Lothaire, Dawn, Bisou

I heard from Lothaire tonight; it was great to see his news after such a long time! I sent him a email in return. I also got to talk to Dawn tonight. I was glad to be able to talk to her about her current separation, and feel relieved at having done so.
Marina wants me to add that Bisou, our cat, has been eating our toilet paper out of the packaging again... and I want to add, since I'm talking about pets, that one of our Platys, which we just got last week, died. He did better than our first set of Platys, though. They didn't even make it overnight; this guy held on for almost a week! The other 2 that we bought at the same time are still alive and healthy, though, so I'm hoping the one death was just an anomoly.

I bought my books for the CCIE Wireless tonight - $300 dollars worth. I'm going to read them to brush up on some of the wireless theory, and continue reading the 5000 whitepages I've scheduled... In addition to all the new stuff that comes out between now and when I feel prepared to take the test. It seems a bit daunting to me currently, but I know that I'll persevere. CCIE is waiting!

Russia trip February 2009

01/16/2009

Today marks the beginning of my 7^th trip to Europe, and my 3^rd to Russia.

Marina and I begin our journey in Vienna, where we have a 12 hour layover, giving us some 10 hours to visit the city. The sun came up in time for us to see the Bavarian Alps from the plane, making both of us miss the life we had while we were students in Chambéry (2002 – 2003). I pulled out the Vienna tour book I bought for one last glance over the itinerary I have planned, and then it is announced that the plane was making its descent into Vienna.

Fresh powder had fallen on the city while it was sleeping, making the city a wonderful site from the landing plane’s window, and adding a nostalgic touch of Colorado to the atmosphere. We made our way through the Vienna airport and Customs without incident, and boarded the airport train destined for Vienna. My first impression was that the city is industrial, as the factories in the suburbs near the airport would have you believe. These first suburbs were followed by modest residential quarters which morphed gradually into a modern urban center. By the time the 16 minute ride (as it was advertised) was over the train had descended into the city’s subway system, terminating at Landstrasse, the central train/subway station in Vienna.

Emerging from the station, the city still looked quite dull… Construction surrounds the station; not quite the Old Europe Vienna I had anticipated. My first task is to get my bearings, but I start off on the wrong foot by forgetting that European street names aren’t announced overhead near the traffic lights as they are in the U.S., but are on the buildings. Construction blocks one street name on the corner where we stand, so I have to do some guessing to find the cardinal directions. After an initial false start, I am able to get us heading towards the first landmark, Hundertwasserhaus.

The next trouble comes from the fact that the attraction is not on the map; instead, a general directional notation (continue 600m in this direction) is supposed to be our guide. After a few blocks, and what feels like more than 1 kilometer, I ask directions of a gentleman walking his dog.

“Hundertwasserhaus?” I inquire, making my best attempt at German (which I do not speak).

“Ya, Ya, just go, ya,” he replies, making a sweeping motion with his hand. I find myself unsure of whether he is pointing us down the side street or directing these two foreign tourists back towards the train station to get them out of his city; it is a bit difficult to discern. I decide to give his intentions the benefit of doubt, though, and give the side street a try. 4 blocks later, I am losing hope, with no Hundertwasserhaus on either side of the street, nor on any of the intersecting streets… A second attempt at asking for directions reveals nothing; the person has never seen the place (I show him a picture from the guidebook). We take some pictures at a church, and ask directions of a third passer-by. She points us down a street that we have glanced down which bears no sign of the building. We walk a block that direction nonetheless, and stumble directly into the house in all its contemporary beauty; a true gem of post-modern architecture.

After pictures, we walk towards the next monument; St. Stephen’s Cathedral. A few more wrong turns, looping back and around as I fumble my way through this city with its missing street names at seemingly every corner. Eventually we find ourselves on an avenue which opens onto a handsome square centering on the cathedral. There are fairytale-like horses and carriages there to greet us, and we take more than a few pictures of them and the cathedral’s multicolored roof. A visit inside the cathedral gives us a nice impression of this ancient capital’s glory of old. We try to take the elevator to the top of the North Tower, but have to forego that excursion as we have not changed any money to Euros. The stairs to the South Tower appear to have disappeared. Not making any headway ascending the towers, and we are hungry, we thus decide to try our hand at the local fare.

After a great meal of Weiner Schnitzel and Goulash, we make our way to the Hofburg Palace, taking pictures outside before visiting the museum of the Palace rooms (similar to Versailles) and the collection of dinning ware (nothing to scoff at). Free audio guides help us learn some of the history of the palace and the Holy Roman Empire, up to the death of Franz Joseph. Marina is excited to see the quarters of Tsar Nicholas, refurbished to the time period when he had sojourned here.

Back to the confusing streets, where I nearly miss our next site: Karlskirche, an impressive Baroque church. We take pictures outside but decide not to enter. A short walk brings us to the Belvedere, and Marina takes pictures while I rest my back (I have been carrying our daypack and the laptop) and do a bit of people watching. We are starting to reach our quota on time, but try to pick up some provisions for tonight’s dinner and tomorrow’s train ride. Unfortunately, Billa, the local supermarket chain, only accepts master card (a fact which seems to be unknown by the merchant who attempts to take both my Visa and Discover cards). After a quick jaunt to the ATM, some 4 blocks away, Marina breaks out the German (where was this earlier throughout the day when I was doing all the asking of directions and making purchases?!) and impresses the clerk, while I manage a quick “Thank yo… Uh, Danke.”

01/17/2009

The plane ride into Russia seems to take forever, just as it did on my last trip. I can’t decide if it’s the excitement, my discomfort with the hooligans who are surrounding me, or otherwise. To add to it, I can’t sleep.

After what seems like the longest flight of my life, the captain announces that we’re making our approach to Ekaterinburg. The passengers on board ignore the captain’s feeble attempts to install order, as well as all attempts made by other members of the crew. People are standing during turbulence; a 10 year old gets up from his seat and makes his way to the restroom. Rules are meant to keep other people in line, not these individuals. Some order is restored once the ground is in sight.

The first thing I notice about Ekaterinburg is the many smokestacks, quickly followed by interspersed residential buildings. We touch down, and the Russians immediately unbuckle their seatbelts and begin collecting their baggage, still oblivious to the flight crew’s shouts for order, and also ignoring the fact that the plane is clearly not yet at the terminal. Marina laughs and whispers that she thinks they don’t understand English and German, the two languages spoken by the crew. I respond that I’m pretty sure understanding isn’t the issue; culture is. The plane takes a long time to taxi to the gate, which I attribute to the captain’s kindness towards the passengers who have chosen to stay standing rather than return to their seats. Those of us who are sitting are definitely in the minority.

With no problems at passport control and our baggage off the plane fairly quickly, we walk through the exit to find Evgeni and Venira waiting for us. They help us drag our luggage through the snow to Evgeni’s Toyota Camry, and the only other bearded person I’ve seen (besides myself) leaves his baggage cart directly in front of our car. A quick confrontation from Evgeni not fixing the problem, he gets out and moves the cart to a spot just behind someone else’s car. Call it Russian hospitality. Then we’re off through the still-falling snow.

An exit sign reads “Tyumen’ 341 km.” There are a few tracks headed that direction, and I have to wonder how many people are trying to make the journey by car this morning. Not many, I hope, glancing at the glistening snow. We drive to Evgeni’s apartment. I’m impressed by how nice it is. Evgeni helps us into the apartment before retiring to his other apartment to try and sleep, suggesting that we do the same. We have some tea (I’m worried that the caffeine will make it difficult to perform the task at hand), shower, and go to bed.

I wake to the sounds of someone in the apartment… Apparently I needn’t have worried about the tea; we’ve missed breakfast and slept through 5 wake-up calls from Evgeni and Venira! We quickly dress and leave the house, picking up Venira on our way to the Ice Village. I slide on a gorki a few times. We try and stick kopieki to the ice walls. Then off to Venira’s, where I meet Gleb and impress him with my Russian. I meet Venira’s mom. It ends all too quickly (no thanks to our oversleeping) and we head off to the train.

Evgeni uses his administrative badge to get us into a nice parking spot right in front of the train station, helping us avoid the overcrowded general admission parking lot. We wait there for a while as the schedule board doesn’t yet indicate which platform our train is arriving on. With less than 5 minutes, we decide to enter the station, even though we still have no idea where our train will be. The moment the platform is announced, there’s a mad rush of people, everyone scrambling to be the first one out into the cold night. When the train arrives, it is lined up backwards; thus everyone scrambles again, this time jostling for position as they board the train. The same woman cuts me off twice without as much as a glance backward. We have first class seats, and board the train on that car.

The train attendant starts a movie in our car; it’s Bruce Almighty. To my surprise, it’s in English without subtitles. A few minutes later, the attendant fumbles through the DVD menus trying to change the language to Russian. Her attempt fails, so she enlists the help of the Militsa on board. After a few more failed attempts (he manages to get Slovakian subtitles though!) Marina goes over to help, at my prompting. She does her best to guide this gentleman through the commands, but he’s unable to follow her directing. After a few minutes, he relinquishes control of the remote to her and she restarts the movie in Russian. The subtitles, however, remain in Slovak… Marina and I play cards, and then alternate sleeping. While Marina sleeps, I watch as the attendant attempts to play a Superman DVD. No luck with Russian audio there, it gets swapped moments later for a Russian war movie. Marina wakes and we play more cards, then talk.

Arriving in Tyumen, Vladimir and Niella are waiting for us. They help us off the train, and we head in the opposite direction of the crowd. I admire Vladimir’s parking strategy, away from the mayhem, before realizing that he didn’t actually get a better spot than everyone else… No, the rules are for everyone else, not us. We cross the tracks on foot, not by the pedestrian overpass. I have a brief moment of terror when Niella steps onto the rail, which luckily isn’t electric. We cross 3 tracks, walking directly in front of a locomotive (another brief moment of terror) before walking through the station (everyone else made it here quicker despite our “shortcut”) to Niella’s car. They take us to Gulya and Tolya’s, where we have more tea. We converse while watching a New Year’s program (the celebrations here really must last for a while!). Later we give them their gifts from America. We go to bed sometime around 2 am.

01/18/2009

Marina and I wake up late today… Sometime after 10 am. Not too surprising considering we didn’t go to bed until 2 am! We awake because Vladimir, Marina’s dad, is calling to see what time he can come pick us up. So, after a quick shower (still no time to shave my beard!), and a wonderful breakfast of kashu with butter and berries, we put on our sweaters, scarves, boots, mittens, shapki, and coats in a vain attempt to try and brave the cold between the house and Niella’s new car (a Nissan. I forget which model).

On the way to our first event for the day, Vladimir asks me if I remembered to bring my swimming suit. Thinking this was a joke referring to my last trip to Siberia, when my family went swimming with Vladimir’s, I laugh and respond that no, this time I didn’t bring trunks. We stop not far from where Lyuba lives; the same block, in fact. Lots of cars, and I have no idea what’s coming.

As we walk towards a skver, I hear talking and laughing mixed with common Russian exclamations (Niechivo sebia! Vopshie!), and as I come to the edge of the parking lot I begin to understand why all the excitment. There, twenty feet below, I see a rectangular hole cut into the ice, ropes dangling on the water forming two swimming lanes! To my right is a small card table with three trophies on it (gold, silver, and bronze). It’s something like 10° F outside (warm for Siberia this time of year), snow is beginning to fall, and these Russians have decided to cut a swimming whole through 3 feet of ice for a polar bear swimming competition! Men, women, and children all brave the cold for a chance at one of the medals, which comes with a trip to Moscow for the Russian championships. I take lots of pictures. Marina is able to meet up with a few of her friends here, with whom we’re hoping to be able to meet up again later in the trip.

We get back in the car and go out past what I believe are four nuclear cooling towers and a coal fired power plant. Vladimir says they’re natural gas, but I’m not convinced. Wide avenues turn into a small single-lane track, cars weaving around gigantic potholes and through some water where a pipe is broken. Up ahead, there’s about 50 cars parked along the side of the road. We go all the way to the front, and Vladimir pays someone 40 rubles to let us into a private parking lot.

Here, I am introduced to the gorki (slides, Russian style). There are about 20 of them, all different sizes, built in the ice. Some have turns (luge-style), others contain jumps, and all are definitely unique. After a few pictures on two separate runs, Niella and Vlad retire to the warmth of the car. The temperature is quickly falling, but Marina and I stay and slide for a while.

We get back into the car and cross the Tura (the river here in Tyumen’). From the bridge, we see cars driving on ice racetracks carved into the frozen oxbows on the floodplain below. One of the tracks is oval; the other has corners in both directions. Apparently, there was a race yesterday and today the tracks are open to amateurs. Volgi, Dzhiguli, and various other marks are all going round and round on the ice; some people racing against the clock, others are having fun drifting, and yet others just driving. After witnessing more than a few near misses between those racing and those who are just poking around, we get back into the car and head back across the Tura.

This time we make our way to a place where the river banks aren’t quite as steep. This is the event which drew me to Tyumen’ from Washington: the baptism holiday. No medals here, this polar bear club is all about repentance. Icons are for sale near the parking lot, and both the militsa and medics are all around, casting a somewhat ominous atmosphere around this otherwise joyful religious festival. Considering I am having trouble taking my hand out of my mitten to operate my camera (the temperature has fallen several degrees since this morning), I can understand the need for caution. Here, the more devout (along with those who are just plain crazy!) dunk themselves three times in the Tura, crossing themselves each time. Those lacking the courage to immerse themselves draw holy water to perform their baptism at home. Completely unbelievable; this is the coldest I have ever been (I mean that literally; it’s can’t be warmer than -10° F), and people are willingly bathing in holes cut through 3 feet of ice! As with the polar bear swimming, men, women, and children are taking part. It’s much colder here, though, and the people don’t have towels and banyas waiting for them when they emerge. I’m at a loss for words.

How else to follow this experience than with a traditional Georgian meal? We drive to a restaurant near Vladimir’s house, trying to warm up from our 20 minutes outside. The wait staff at the restaurant are less than welcoming, but the food makes up it. Cognac to warm the body, rations of beef salad for me, shrimp salad for Marina, and two different kinds of tongue salad for Vladimir and Niella. Mors is served liberally. Pork chops are served as the main course. Klassna!

We head to Vladimir and Niella’s to meet up with Andrei and Sergei. I play computer games for a while with Sirozh, while Marina catches up with her father and stepmother (I was having trouble following the conversation and was sleepy from the food and jetlag). Tea is served, and I watch a James Bond flick while Marina et al. continue their conversing. Andrei returns home from a movie. Then we head back to Gulya and Tolya’s, where we have more tea. Tolya’s still at work (I just now remember that he has a 24 hour shift… And suddenly feel guilty for allowing him a mere 4 hours of sleep last night). I write my memoirs while Marina and Gulya talk about their family history.

01/19/2009

The alarm wakes us at 2:30 am this morning… Quickly realizing mistake, we go back to sleep. When we finally do awake, it’s a bit later than planned, but still early enough to see Gulya off to register me with the local administration (visitors on homestay visas are still required to register their visit with the local authority). Marina, Tolya, and I eat breakfast together: Grechka with hotdogs, left over Haladietz, and salmon. Then chai and tort. As we are finishing the tea, Gulya appears at the door. There had been a long line of foreigners at the administration building, but she managed to talk to the right person and was conveniently bumped to the front of the line.

Tiotya Allya calls, and we talk to her. Marina, Gulya, and I go for a walk on the ploshad’, stopping to take pictures at nearly every ice sculpture. Tolya visits the dentist (getting a fitting for a new bridge). Then we enter the central mall. We visit a shop that sells fur coats, and I’m amazed to learn that the fur coats I’ve been seeing worn by people really do cost as much here as they do in the States; the cheap ones cost somewhere near $1,000 dollars! My mind starts to wonder about the differences between our cultures, what we as Americans value, and how anyone can afford that kind of outerwear.

We decide to go to the church since we have some time to kill before we’ll go to Baba Olie’s. On the way, we stop by Marina’s former school. There’s a new plaque mentioning that a famous singer from the ‘60s attended school here. To the right is another plaque, this one commemorating the school’s use as a hospital during World War II. We take pictures throughout the school after getting permission to visit the building. Marina’s former teachers are busy with classes, and she doesn’t want to bother them. We leave just as the Babushki start arriving to pick up their grandchildren. I take extra notice of all the Hummers and German sports cars on the streets as we walk towards the church, again pondering economics.

Today is the actual baptism holiday, I learn. At midnight the largest numbers of people will be baptized. Those who acted yesterday were a day early, but did so because it was the only time many of them could (today is Monday, so they’re all at work). There’s a long line of women in fur coats, awaiting their time to draw holy water from the well outside the church. We go into the church, and I notice some wayward glances, but attribute it to my rather plain coat. Marina is quick to correct me, however… I’m still wearing my wool cap, as are Marina and Gulfira. I had forgotten that in the Orthodox Church, women are required to cover their heads while men are required to have their heads bare. I hope the churchgoers are able to forgive me for my lack of attention. Not that the tradition is altogether different from ours in the States, but my brain is still busy pondering economics and values.

We leave the church and head home. On the way, we meet Tolya, who is headed back toward the church. He has a small jar for water, which I find somewhat surprising given his New Age beliefs. I later learn from Marina that Tolya’s sister died on this day some years ago. His mother, upon hearing the news of her daughter’s death from a stranger, attempted to visit the gravesite. She stumbled to the edge of the family property before her heart gave out. The family had been trying to figure the best way to let her know, on account of her weak heart. Apparently their concern was well founded.

We get back to the house and unbundled. Marina calls Vladimir. He’s arriving in 10 minutes, so we use the tualiette and put our cheap coats back on. The woods between Tyumen’ and Taraskul seem to help me return from my brief venture into economic theory. Marina and Vladimir reminisce, with key phrases and jokes translated for me. Then we arrive.

Marina’s grandmother appears to be in very good health. We have tea (accompanied by caviar, chicken, mushrooms, and Saliutka pot shyube salad (the literal translation is herring under an overcoat; fur, I’m certain), followed by chocolates. Vladimir takes his leave and returns to Tyumen’. Baba shows us photographs of her dad, uncle, brother (Piotr; was in the army), sisters (one died before reaching adulthood), Vladimir, Marina, Irina, Nikita. I’m having trouble staying awake, which is VERY unfortunate given the family history I’m hearing. Rather disappointing… I can only understand about ¼ of what’s being said, though, and just had a nice meal in a very warm apartment, my eyes still crusted with jet lag… I’m not entirely sure I’m to blame for my sudden narcoleptic attack, and start playing with Bielka to try and head off the sommeil. Bielka, however, gives out, taking a cat nap herself; leaving me to fight sleep on my own.

When a walk is offered, I jump on the chance to get the blood flowing again. It’s cold, as it’s now dusk. -15 C, I hear. The snow crunches under our feet as Marina, Baba, and I walk, Marina and I on either side for stability. We walk around the resort, slowly making our way towards the frozen lake. More adherents of Orthodoxy are here, also expressing their faith through baptism. A father takes his 6 year old son into the water, the child’s breath coming audibly from his compressing lungs (the cold causes you to exhale, due to the temperature difference). A group of teenagers, more on a dare than an expression of faith, I’m guessing, follow. After them, a lone woman enters the waters. Other people are coming and going, quickly drawing holy water and retreating through the cold to their apartments. I take pictures of those baptizing themselves, and of Marina and her grandmother. We return to Baba’s by way of the Orthodox chapel.

Back in the apartment, we look at more pictures. Or rather, the same pictures, but more stories. I feel myself slowly fading, but somehow manage to keep awake. Vladimir returns. We have more tea (Russian style; chocolates and food in abundant supply), more stories, more jokes. Vladimir announces that it’s time to go, and I’m so happy I could kiss him. He starts the car while we say goodbye to Baba. More stories on the way home, while I look at the bustling capitalism that Russia has come to identify for me.

Back at home, there’s more Saliutka pot shyube (with tea) waiting on the table for us. Marina instructs me to eat it whether or not I’m hungry. I willingly oblige; for some reason, I feel quite famished despite the four meals I’ve already eaten. They watch the end of a movie while I do the dishes. We play cards. Gulya announces the hot water has returned (it was out all day); Tolya takes a shower while Marina and I commit for tomorrow morning (I’m still hoping to shave!).

01/20/2009

There’s still hot water this morning, and I’m the last one to awaken. I shave my beard, but get bored with the process (no trimmer, and my beard’s pretty long by now, so it’s a slow job) and leave a goatee. I don’t like the way it looks, but decide to keep it until at least tomorrow. Marina seems to like it, but I find it annoying and resolve to lose it.

It’s colder yet today; -25 C. Marina calls some friends to make plans for today. We’re first going to Lyuba’s, then will have a dinner back here with friends. We dress and are about to leave when Gulya and Tolya tell me to go back and put on thicker pants. I laugh, but follow their advice. Good thing, too. It’s cold enough outside that ice forms on my mustache during the 15 or 20 minutes we take to walk to Lyuba’s. I drop my glove while taking pictures of the ice on my goatee, and have to turn around and look for it after we arrive at our destination.

Back inside, I look at pictures, then drink tea (i.e. eat tort, French toast, shproti sandwiches, kielbasa, and pickles). Then I play cars with Vladik, Lyuba’s son, before we sit for lunch. Play with Vladik. Aleksey returns from work. Play Legos train with Vladik. Tea. Supper. Aleksey and Lyuba are going to her mom’s house and offer to give us a ride. I willingly oblige.

They have a true Japanese car; the steering wheel is on the right rather than the left. I’m a little nervous because I hear these cars are dangerous on the streets, since drivers attempting to pass or turn can’t see as well around the other cars. I definitely see how it could be difficult. Aleksey manages to get us home safely despite the fact that Vladik is bouncing around in his seat behind me (they opt to leave him unbuckled, but make him sit in his car seat nonetheless).

We arrive home and have another dinner with Ole (Marina’s friend), Dima and Yiroslavna (this couple rents an apartment from Gulya and Tolya). Marina and I sit for a second dinner (saliutka pot shyube, salad Olivier, olives, salmon, pelmeni). We look at the pictures Marina’s parents have of their daughters, and watch the beginning of the EuroNews coverage of Barack Obama’s Inauguration. Everyone goes to the kitchen for tea, but I’m fixated on the TV. Tolya brings tea in for me since I won’t go to the kitchen (two kinds of tort. He tries pushing blueberry ice cream on me, but sure I’ve already consumed about 5 times my caloric requirement for the day I kindly refuse).

Since I can’t understand much of the commentary, I watch for politicians I recognize and am given a unique opportunity to watch the crowd. I’m amazed at the number of supporters for the President-Elect; the mall is filled beyond capacity. People are chanting “Obama! Obama!” I can’t help but be drawn into the excitement, but I’m again reminded of the dangers presented by a charismatic President. Visions of Hitler addressing the crowds in Vienna (fresh from my layover there) flash before my eyes… I push them away, but they return of their own accord at intervals throughout the Inauguration ceremony. Crazy; just 4 days ago I was at the Hofburg Palace in Vienna, where Hitler gave a speech before the cheering crowds (Austria seceding to the Germans, I believe). I have hope that Obama leads our country down a better path than Hitler managed to do for his country, but am still scared stiff by the man. I feel it’s dangerous for so many people to trust a single person with their collective dreams, knowing it will be an impossible task for him to live up to all their ideals.

People remarked today that my goatee looks like Lenin’s. Please don’t misunderstand me; I’m 100 percent behind Barack Obama, I just recognize that he needs to be surrounded by people who help him, and the U.S., succeed. He built his campaign on hope, and this hope drew millions of followers, me included. I don’t think our job as supporters has finished now that he’s in the White House. We need to stay vigilant and help the new President keep his power from destroying himself, our dreams, our country.

Marina, who has been reading along with me as I write, reminds me to add one more incident. On the way to Lyuba’s this morning, we went to a store with Gulya. She was looking at the torts, and asked “Devushka, is this tort any good?” “No, not at all!” came the reply. I laugh aloud, and everyone in the store turns to stare at this obviously crazy foreigner (who else would travel to Siberia in the dead of winter without a fur coat?), but am torn by the sheer honesty of the shopkeeper. In America, it wouldn’t matter if the tort had been made from spoiled eggs and dropped on the floor three times before the frosting was added; the shopkeeper when asked would have replied that they’ve never tasted a better tort!

I don’t think the American way is wrong, rather, I think it needs to be examined. Our food no longer has any taste, due to all the chemicals in it and the processes it goes through before ale. Capitalism requires us to make the most profit off the food as possible, thus, we end up with low quality, tasteless grub, but have to pay the same (or more) than people are paying for real food in other countries. While we’re (thankfully) not dying of starvation, I still feel like there’s a lot of room for improvement with our system.

01/21/2009

We awaken slightly at 6 something to see Olie off to college (she opted to spend the night, but I’m wondering why since she’s leaving before the sun is up). Then back to bed, where I dream of chasing ants through a hollow earth, which is propped into place on pillars of ice. I kill the ants by pulling a block out of one of the ice pillars, which topples onto the small creatures, crushing the life from them.

I get up at 10 am today. Gulya is tapping on my bedroom window from the enclosed porch to arouse me from my slumber (she was ready for me to awaken whether or not I felt ready to face the world). It’s colder today than it was yesterday, at -30 C or so. We’re going out for groceries soon, then to Lyuba’s for a walk and dinner.

Outside, the wind is blowing, so it feels every bit of the 30 degrees below zero. I’ve shaved my Lenintee, and am surprised at how much colder my face feels. After only a month with a beard, I somehow feel remarkably incomplete without it. We stop at a local barbershop so I can get a haircut. The hairdresser takes her time, making sure my hair is perfect. I’m impressed since there’s no chance of my becoming a repeat customer. A different level of service than I’m used to. Marina starts taking pictures, and my hairdresser of some 40 years attempts to get a younger, better looking, hairdresser to model in her stead. We coerce the older woman to stay (I prefer reality to doctored beauty). As we leave, I thank the barber (yes, she’s a real barber; she shaved the back of my neck and my sideburns with a straightedge) for turning me into a gentleman.

Next we stop to take pictures at the newly constructed Tyumen’ Oblast Theater. The wind has picked up, so it feels even colder than earlier. We snap 2 quick photos, Marina and I taking turns being in the picture with Gulya and Tolya. Then we’re off to the mall to buy groceries, a memory card for Gulya’s new digital camera, and to teach her how to print pictures from the camera.

We visit an antique store (overpriced, all of it) and a jewelry store (good deals, but Marina seems disinterested) before the arriving at the grocery store. Tolya and Gulya don’t let me stray more than 5 feet from them without coming to my side. I look at model cars and DVDs before I tire of the cat and mouse game, resolving to follow them. We buy chocolates for our colleagues and family (Marina reminds me that my cousin Megan requested dark chocolate with bubbles). I then wander towards the 5 aisles of alcohol to find some Vodka for Minh and Richard, my bosses. I start with Tyumenskaya, a $4 bottle. Marina points to Pekrovskoe, at $5, thinking it might be cool since that’s Rasputin’s hometown.

Then Gulya arrives and suggests that we ask a salesperson what he recommends. Russkiy Standart; but Minh already has a bottle of this. I end up buying a bottle of Fabergé for Minh and a bottle of Tsarskoye for Richard, at roughly $30 a pop… Marina’s upset with me, but she’s the one who started the up-selling. Be careful what you wish for (I honestly think the first two options would have pleased me more, but I know that Minh and Richard are more picky with their drink than I am). Overall I’m pleased; these would have been much more expensive in the States anyway. I find out later that evening that these bottles each cost more than Tolya’s income from a 24 hour shift, and feel guilty for the excess.

Now we go to an Internet Salon. I’m able to read a few emails from friends before DNS stops working. We complain to the dievichki, who eventually are content to refund our money rather than fix the problem. Then off to a photo printing shop. Marina shows Tolya how to choose which pictures to print from the camera. $4 for 4 pictures, and we’re out the door to a battery shop. Here, batteries appear to be sold in any manner possible. Tolya requests 3 Energizers, so the shopkeep opens a new 4-pack, pulls out a single battery, and hands Tolya the others. No waste.

We return to the photoshop to get the pictures and then head home for lunch. We play cards. Marina calls Lyuba, who will pick us up soon on her way from her Mom’s house. More cards. Tea. Cards. It’s nearing 7, and no sign of Lyuba. Marina calls again, and it appears as though we have to take a rain check. We eat dinner (chicken and cabbage). Gulya gives me a second helping, and I grudgingly accept. I’m still hungry, but don’t actually want more. I wash the dishes while the others gather around the TV. I sit for a minute, but decide to leave. I attempt to play an economic simulation game on my computer, but can’t get it to work. After 30 or 45 minutes of adjusting settings, I play a racing game instead, which is less fun than trying to get the simulation working. I start writing my journal as everyone goes to bed. Gulya informs me that Marina has fallen asleep on the sofa and I’m not to wake her. I decide to wait ½ hour then bring her to bed.

01/22/2009

Today, Tolya is working. Marina, Gulya, and I take the bus to Taraskul. We get to the avtostantsa near the home, and catch a bus from there to a stop near the avtovaksal. We miss the first bus to Taraskul by lieterally just a couple of minutes. However, there’s another bus leaving in half an hour, so we buy tickets for that one.

Our bus is late in arriving, so we wait outside in the cold (today’s high is -16; not quite as cold as other days but not exactly beach weather). It comes about 5 minutes late, and we board. I’m caught off guard by the number of stops made by the bus; I was expecting something similar to Greyhound (intercity) but we make frequent stops all the way to Taraskul. I doze, while Marina and Gulya talk. At Bolshoy Taraskul, a woman who has just boarded sits next to me. The bus empties when we arrive at our stop.

Baba Olie and the cold are outside to greet us. We go inside the apartment and eat lunch then go for a walk. I take pictures of the three generations of women. We stop by the Taraskul museum, where I see pictures of Baba Olie and her second husband (her first husband died before Marina was born). I also learn of the resort’s past, as well as the different programs offered by the resort.

Back to Baba Olie’s for tea. Gulya takes her leave (she’s returning home on the bus). I play with Bielka. Marina’s feeling a little sleepy, and decides to lie down for a while. She sleeps about 45 minutes, while Baba Olie and I watch TV (Bielka is completely exhausted from all the attention I’ve given her of late and is unresponsive to both caressing and string). When Marina’s dad calls, she awakens. He’s about 10 minutes out, so we dress for the cold and ride back to town.

He takes us to our next destination; Dima and Yiroslavna’s. Gulya arrives a bit after us (she had to walk from home). We have a wonderful pancake dinner (bleeni with blueberries, bryoosniki, strawberries, and ikra). Then Yiroslavna and Dima show us some of their photo and movie projects. Next, Dima displays his collection of indigenous instruments, and plays all of them (3 flutes, an early reed instrument, a 2 stringed guitar-like instrument, a drum, a guitar, and a 5 stringed guitar-like instrument). He also shows us three different techniques that he has learned for throat singing.

We walk home through the cold, Gulya and Marina talking. I’m feeling uneasy about being out this late; the streets are dead. I keep an eye out for would-be attackers (I’m an easy target, being a foreigner). We arrive home safely, much to my pleasure, and all retire to bed.

01/23/2009

Today saw me the first one to rise. I’ve been dreaming of work, which is a horrible thing to do while on vacation…

After breakfast, we board a bus and head back to the avtovaksal. Our destination today is ????, a small suburb of Tyumen’ that has a cross country ski area. This being my second time cross country skiing, I am pretty sore by the time we finish our 10km circuit. Then we go to the house of Gulya’s friend, Valentina, for a wonderful dinner. Valentina’s husband, Leonid, accompanies us on our train ride home. Marina and I go for a walk in the falling snow, snapping a couple pictures. Then cards and tea.

01/23/2009

We take our time getting up again today, and are treated with a breakfast of Guluptsie (beef wrapped in cabbage). Marina’s dad comes to pick us up, and we drive through an old part of town where there are lots of the original merchant’s houses, izba, with many examples of the wood lace I’ve been reading about. The airport itself has been turned into a heliport, and looks to be the base of UTAir. Continuing our drive, we go past a small ski area on the banks of the Tura, before heading northwest towards the hot springs.

Upon arrival, we immediately start the coals for the shashlik we’ll be eating. The meat, however, is slow in arriving. After about 45 minutes or an hour, the meat finally appears, and we’re all happy. In addition to Marina and me, Vladimir, Niella, and two other families are present.

We eat shashlik, and start toasting anything and everything. Cognac and wine flow freely. After we’re all stuffed with meat and onions, some of us go swimming. Marina, Liza, and I make a steady change of temperatures, from the ultra hot water at the inlet, to the cool water at the outlet, and into the snows surrounding the hot springs. Then cool water, snow, hot water, cool.

Then out of the water to polish off the shashlik. We clean up after ourselves, and head off into the sunset (literally).

Back at the apartment, Marina and I prepare for her class reunion tonight. Lena and Lyuba are there when we arrive, and Vikka (one of the photographers from day 2) is just arriving. We’re followed closely by Dasha (the owner of several businesses), Angelika, and Max, Angelika’s husband (they’re in advertising; he TV and she radio). The last to come is another Lena. I eat Monti, Dasha has pielmeni, Lyuba eats something as well. We all have lots of tea. Stories are shared between Marina and her classmates; Max and I talk culture.

At home that night, I start reading The Shack, and sleep is slow to come. When it finally does arrive, it is fitful.

01/24/2009

Today, I experience my first Russian Banya!

Alieksey, Lyuba’s husband, arrives to pick us up. I notice the carseat in the trunk when we put our banya clothing there. We drop by another apartment complex (not theirs) to pick up Lyuba and Vladik. Vladik stands for our entire drive to the village, but I am the only one anxious for his safety. I meet Lyuba’s grandfather (he’s introduced to me only as Diedya; grandpa). We go for a walk in the woods and take pictures while Diedya prepares the banya for us.

The banya is 85 C (about 170 F, warm for a beginner, Marina says), and I take part in all the experiences that go along with a banya: naked in the banya (sweat begins literally pouring out of my every pore the moment the banya door opens); I’m whipped with hot birch and oak branches (supposed to help clear toxins from the skin, but stings badly because of the heat and the whipping); then dive into the snow and roll around (good for the heart, I hear). We drink beer between recovering from the snow and returning for the whippings (I’ve never liked beer, but it goes down without any problems since it’s the only liquid available and I’m dehydrated from the heat in the banya). Diedya and Aleksey seem to allow me to go a bit lighter than they do themselves (they do this every weekend and claim to have built a tolerance).

Next comes dinner, which is excellent. I have a headache (a gift from being dehydrated in the banya). They start toasting, and I know it’s going to be a long night (being dehydrated from the hour of banya, the Cognac quickly goes to my head). I recall having 5 “last” toasts of the evening, but hadn’t been keeping track until I stated I was ready to quit drinking. Don’t ever try and convince a Russian that you’ve had enough alcohol…

Marina heads out now to the banya (her’s is 60 C, on account of her low blood pressure). Alieksey, Lyuba, Vladik, and I get ready for a walk. We go to a store, where Alieksey buys another beer for himself. Walking around the block, I can only hope that he won’t be driving us home, given the amount of alcohol we’ve consumed by now. We return to Diedya’s and get ready to leave.

Lyuba drives, but that’s only a partial consolation as this is her first time driving, we have a ways to go (60km), and it’s snowing. Not to mention that because she’s driving slowly, a string of cars immediately forms behind her. Vladik is, of course, not buckled in, and is fussy from his long day. Despite the fact that the cars behind seem to be trying to kill us (they only attempt to pass on blind corners or when semis are headed towards us, it seems), we make it home safely.

Olie and her boyfriend, Sergei, are waiting for us when we get home. So I have a second dinner, but pass when alcohol is offered (Tolya is less pushy on this issue than the other Russians I’ve dealt with recently, much to my pleasure! He doesn’t drink himself, being a recovering alcoholic). Conversation and photos follow. When the others prepare for a walk, I decline and head directly to bed with a pounding headache.

01/25/2009

This morning starts off with a phone call from Vladimir. He confirms that he’ll be taking us to Ekaterinburg for our flight home. Marina tells Gulya, who immediately blows up. She yells at us three times, then stops talking to Marina altogether (although neither of us responded to Gulya’s yelling, I still have some trump being a guest. There’s still bad blood between Marina’s parents from their divorce some 20 years prior…). We get dressed and leave the house, going first to the Photo center to pick up Baba Olie’s pictures, deciding to have some of Marina’s parent’s photos printed as well. Next we go to the Internet Salon so Marina can ensure her reference letter is ready for Andreas (it’s due today…). Back to the Photo center for our pictures, then to the mall so we can buy a new memory card for Marina’s parents ($55!!! The one I bought Marina in the U.S. was $20!). We end our morning in the grocery store, where we buy a bottle of wine for Gulya (should help her to feel less neglected, which I believe to be the real cause of her outburst this morning).

When we arrive at home, Baba Olie is already there. A short while later, Lyuba and Vladik arrive. Vladik and I play while the adults talk. Daniela drops in, and Marina gives her the cowgirl hat we bought her. Vladik and I play some more. He gets fussy, so Lyuba puts him to bed. I clean up from our play time, and listen to the talking. He wakes up, Lyuba puts him back down. More talk. Then Daniela, Lyuba, and Vladik take their leave. Baba Olie accepts Gulya’s invitation to spend the night.

We play cards, eat pielmeni, and then play Lotto. Gulya watches her Soap Opera while we play. Then back to cards. Then sleep.

I have a strange dream that night: I pay $10,000 for a Chinese dinner (Marina, Cara, Zenin and I) at a new restaurant in Breen, CO. I’m understandably upset, but had agreed to pay for the dinner beforehand and hadn’t paid attention to the prices, so I own up to my mistake. Marina and I drive towards Durango on the Wildcat road, and come across a KKK procession. I’m surprised to find that the Grand Master is present, with no security. This shock is overshadowed by my feeling of sadness at the fact that the group has a presence in the area. In Durango, I return to work at MyDurango.net, where Jeff says the restaurant where we dined is one of his favorites, and I feel a little better about the cost of tonight’s dinner, knowing that my boss found the fare attractive.

01/26/2009

The first thing on our agenda this morning is to get some pictures printed for Grandma Olie before she heads home. We drop the order off at the photo shop, and then head out for a walk while they print. We go to an Orthodox bookstore, where we are able to find a few books for Mark Schaeffer. Next door is a normal bookstore, and Marina finds a dictionary for Irina while Grandma and I browse. I come across some video games that look interesting, but we move along before I can get a really good look at them.

We go back to the photo shop and look through our prints. Then we take Grandma to the bus stop. It’s a sad parting for me; I somehow am aware that my relationship with her is among the most fragile of Marina’s family and friends here in Tyumen’. As I write this entry two days later, I still have a very vivid image of her waving to us as the door closes before the bus leaves the stop, Marina and I choking on the billowing, oil-filled smoke left in its wake. The important part is Grandma, not the smoke, but I am retelling the memory as I see it, and the smoke has left an impression as well.

We stop by another bookstore where Marina finds some books by her favorite author and a CD that Irina had requested. I’m able to buy 2 games, and I opt for economic simulators rather than the racing games I had originally expressed interest in. I’m getting older, and my reaction time for racing games is quickly diminishing. My mind, however, seems to me to be sharper than ever.

The next part of the day is spent preparing for our trip tonight. We’re headed to Tobolsk, the first Russian settlement in Siberia. I take my time packing and reading the Shack, while Marina and her parents, especially her mom, run around trying to be sure they have everything they need. I’m calm, knowing I have everything I can think of needing, and I try vainly to help calm the others. Marina goes outside to take pictures of the birds in the cold, while I finish my chapter in the book. Then Tolya, Gulya, and I dress for the cold and head out.

The timing with the train tonight is really bad; we’re out on the platform, moving from car to car to car, all of which are full… The “stewardesses” (for lack of a better word) are busy filling their respective cars with coal (used to heat the cars). Roughly half the train is empty, all the potential passengers standing outside in -20 C, while the coal is being loaded… Couldn’t they have loaded the coal before announcing that the train was ready for boarding?!

The trip to Tobolsk is uneventful, as it is now night. From across the river as we near the city, we can see the kremlin standing on a hill above the town. It’s night and the windows are quite frosty, so no pictures, but it’s breathtaking nonetheless. The windows in the station have ice literally an inch thick on them, and I take pictures. Our hosts for the 2 night stay, Sasha and Aziya, are on the platform to greet us.

01/28/2009

We wake early today and Sasha’s son, Alieksey, has a driver waiting for us to take us around the city (!). Our first stop is to pick up a tour guide, who shows us around the kremlin and the buildings there. The guide speaks only Russian, and gives Marina no time to translate. This is fine by me, though, as I’m more free than normal to take pictures while Marina’s parents are occupied by the guide.

The day is a beautiful grey, with snow falling as we make our tour. It is very cold, however, the high being -25 C. In intervals, I take my mitten off and snap 2 or 3 pictures before I have to don the mitten once more. I still manage an impressive number of snapshots, though, among some of which the sun is clearly visible through the dense clouds overhead.

After the tour of the old town, we stop by a small shop where a local artisan fashions figurines from antler, rock, etc. I find, however, a small “kartina” and am immediately smitten. After a brief discussion with Marina (she likes the painting but her mom doesn’t, all the more to my pleasure) we decide to buy it. Bartering takes place, and we end up getting a steal of a deal ($150 plus 500 roubles; less than $170 for something that would easily fetch $500 back home).

Back at Sasha’s, we take a banya. No snow this time, as there is a shower handy within 5 feet of the banya door. Marina beats me with birch branches (she whips me harder than Aliosha and Diedushka did, but the banya temperature is only 65 C so it doesn’t hurt as much). Talking with Marina, I find out that this family is comprised of die hard communists, which surprises me given the very large size of the house and the quality of the handmade furnishings. I find myself wishing my Russian was better so I could have discussed some of my opinions of both the benefits and drawbacks of the capitalist and communist systems...

01/29/2009

Today we make the return trip to Tyumen. Our train leaves the station at 5:30, but we get up long before then to pack (Gulfira is again frantic at this stage) and then have tea. Boarding the train is less eventful this time. The first car that we choose doesn’t appear to have any heat (kind of important when the temperature is -20 C!). Tolya finds us a new car about 45 minutes into the train ride.

Marina sleeps while Gulfira, Tolya, and I play cards. It’s a long, but pleasant, ride. I spend the portion of my brainpower not dedicated to the card game at hand (the pattern and flow of which has long since been ingrained in my head to the point where I just regurgitate what I have memorized) studying our fellow passengers and wondering about their lives. They seem happy, or at least content, which pleases me.

Leaving the Tyumen’ train station, we make a quick stop at Russia’s first locomotive, located nearby. Then home for tea, where Gulfira reminds Tolya and me to eat our fill before we leave to her jubilee celebration (60 years, according to the Russian tradition). We comply, and by the time tea is over we are both satiated. The four of us then step out into the cold to catch a bus to our destination.

Arriving at Maxim’s, I am impressed to find a very appealing structure built to look like an izba on one floor and a palatial dacha on the next. I marvel at the fact that the stairs are all of the same height (extremely rare in Russia). It is probably the most commercially appealing building I have frequented in all of my trips here. The menu is traditional Russian, and Gulfira chooses what we will eat (it is customary for one person to order a single meal for the entire table, which is then shared). Fish soup, potatoes and mushrooms, steak salad, fish pie, and mors. When Tolya and I stop eating about halfway through the fish pie, Gulfira is disappointed. We look at her in disbelief and explain that we had just done our best to follow her directions to fill up before leaving home in order to conserve money. She guffaws, before saying she was joking! I’m not sure what to think since she was being pushy at tea…

That evening, Marina, Lyuba, and I go to Anya’s parent’s house for tea. We share two bottles of Russian Chapagneski, look at pictures, tell stories of France and America. Anya’s dad shows me his impressive collection of music. We play with their cats. I thank Anya’s mom for her help last trip (she found us a couple of nice hotels for our time in Ukraine).

01/30/2009

This morning, Vladimir arrives earlier than expected for our excursion. Marina and I are about half an hour behind him, but he doesn’t complain despite having waited in the cold. We first go to Baba Olie’s (time for a final goodbye; I’m pleased) where we have tea (mushrooms, kielbasa, fish, salad) and talk. I play some more with Bielka, who was rubbing on my feet as we entered (I’m glad to have made a friend). Then back to the car. We make our way through some of the rich neighborhoods in Tyumen to an art gallery, where Vladimir wants to buy us a present (not a painting, though, since we already have one).

We settle on a mammoth carved out of whale baleen. The shop attendant turns out to be Marina’s distant relative (an ex-third-cousin-once-removed, or something). She informs us that we need a special document to export a painting, but happily supplies us with one. We visit a few more stores looking for souvenirs (one store has live models in the windows), but they are all too high priced for Marina and me. Then we drive to the monastery for pictures before visiting a few other of the sites in Tyumen’, and go to Vladimir’s home for tea.

I get a chance to talk to Marina’s half-brothers (Andrei, Sergei) and Tiotya Niella. We have the tea (consuming a box of chocolate-covered prunes in the process), and then climb back into the car and drive across town. Traffic’s bad, and I’m getting worried that we won’t make our next appointment in time (a play at Tyumen’s new theater). We arrive at a house where Tolya, Liza’s father, wishes us a safe trip home and surprises us with a beautiful teacup. By the time we get to the theater, we have 3 minutes to spare. Tolya and Gulfira are just arriving.

I’m surprised to find that none of the lights are on inside the theater, in spite of the fact that the doors are open. We give our coats, scarves, mittens, scarves, hats, sweaters, and bags to the coat check. I learn that we’re an hour early for the play (!!!), and that we came early to take pictures of the new building. The chandeliers are magnificent (they were illuminated about 10 minutes after our arrival), and there’s marble everywhere (on closer inspection much of it was found to be faux marble; painted wood. It’s beautiful nonetheless). Marina has tea at the concession stand; I have mors (we share a couple sandwiches).

The play is an American comedy, but in Russian, of course. Marina translates for me throughout, but I have a fairly good understanding of the events. At the end of the play, Tolya rushes us out of the theater (we leave while everyone is still clapping, quite rude from my experience, although we aren’t the only ones doing so). Marina and I quickly dress for the cold, and find Lyuba, who is waiting to take us to a night club for another class reunion.

We arrive with Lyuba and Alieksey. Anya, and friend who Marina hasn’t seen since she graduated, is there waiting. Vikka and her husband, also named Alieksey, arrive. Lena and Anton come very late, but Marina is happy to see them, as am I. Lyuba’s husband and I consume 300ml of Vodka (Russki Standart) apiece before I start fighting consciousness. Lyuba drives us home, where I crash while Marina finishes some of the packing.

01/31/2009

We wake early and I finish the last bits of packing. Daniella drops in, brandishing a bottle of Russki Standart (Gulfira says she should have bought us a less expensive brand). I laugh, and tell her that I truthfully don’t have a hangover despite the amount I consumed last night, so the brand is worth the extra expense. She takes her leave (she has classes today), and a few minutes later Yaroslavna and Dima arrive to say their goodbyes. Gulfira and I leave to buy souvenirs for Marina’s friends and coworkers. When we get back, I’m pleased to find that Dima and Yaroslavna are still there. We have tea together (two kinds of cake), and I show them the pictures from Tobolsk and guide them through Gimp a bit, saying that it does some things better than Photoshop and it might be something they would be interested in adding to her repertoire. Ksusha arrives. Dima and Yaroslavna take their leave. Ksusha shows us pictures of her worksite in the north. Then Vladimir arrives to take us to the train station, where Olie and Sergei are waiting to say goodbye as well.

Vladimir, Niella, Olie, and Sergei help us onto the train, leaving as soon as we’re situated (I was expecting them to wait for the train to leave). Marina and I talk to the girl sitting across the booth from us (Anya; a bank teller). Another passenger sits in our booth and immediately starts drinking. He has an endless banter of stories about drugs and crime, and never seems to stop talking, interrupting every question we have for Anya, any conversation in English between Marina and I, as well as any of my attempts at thought.

Arriving in Ekaterinburg, Evgeni and Venira are waiting for us. They help us lug our baggage into their car. We go to Venira’s for dinner and tea (pilaf and Russian salad for dinner, Mors and Cognac, cake with tea). They give us more presents (a tray from a famous metallurgy factory for us, what seems like 50 presents for Irina). Evgeni drives us to his apartment for the night.

02/01/2009

Marina repacks our bags this morning after breakfast.

Evgeni and Venira arrive, and we head out together to Ganina Yama. A monastery has been built here, the site where the remains of the Romanov family were found (the bodies were doused with gasoline, set aflame, and then doused in hydrochloric acid, leaving very little to be found). It has freshly snowed, and is a comfortable -20 C today (much better than the -37 C the site had seen only two days prior). I am ill prepared for the cold, however, and keep putting my feet against the pietchkas (furnaces) located in the numerous churches throughout the complex (I count at least 6 that we visit). I mistakenly hear Marina ask me to buy some candles, and when I return she’s upset and explains that I now need to place them in an alter and pray for someone’s health; I choose her Uncle Hassan and my grandfather.

In addition to the many churches and icons of the now sanctified Romanov family, there are numerous pictures outside the churches depicting the Romanovs in various stages of their lives: Vacationing near Yalta, in Crimea, their going into hiding in Tobolsk, their final house arrest in Ekaterinburg. There are also pictures which feature the previous Patriarch, who just died a month prior, as well as the current Patriarch.

After visiting all the cathedrals, we head into a café of sorts for some piping hot tea and to get off our feet. The building is not very warm, and I take my boots off and set them next to a furnace, which is also not very warm (although more so than the air). I put my feet on the furnace in a vain attempt to warm them while Evgeni, Marina, and Venira take turns telling funny stories involving members of their family, focusing mainly on Nanaika.

We make the 16km drive back to Ekaterinburg (Marina and Venira continuing to tell stories; Evgeni making fun of the lyrics of the songs on the radio) to visit the church erected on the site of the Ipateva mansion. It was here that the Romanov family was under house arrest until their eventual murder, before their bodies were taken to the mine at Ganina Yama. The guidebook I have claims that this church has the most expensive icon in all of Russia; however, none of the priests, nuns, and monks we encounter seem to have any idea what I am talking about. More icons and pictures of the Romanov family are found throughout this airy, spacious, and light cathedral. I take a few pictures of the ice sculptures outside.

Then back to Venira’s for tea, dinner, and more tea. Venira’s mother is present, as is Gleb, Venira’s son. I take pictures of my last sunset in Russia (through the windows; my feet still haven’t completely thawed). We call most of Marina’s relatives we were unable to see this trip, all of whom seem happy to hear from us. It is 10:30 by the time we get home and prepare for bed, and will be a short night as we are planning to awaken by 2:00 tomorrow morning.

02/02/2009

Venira and Evgeni take us to the airport, Evgeni helping us through customs with the picture (he pulls out his administration badge when questions arise, and the customs officer is quick to put his foot in his mouth and allow us through). The flight is uneventful, but the skies are clear, allowing me much time to gaze down at the towns and cities below as we fly over them. I’m glad to live in a country that is less densely populated than the European ones I spot below.