Super-Duper Wacky n' Tacky Euro Adventure

I'm very sorry to those who were looking to a finale of sorts to this blog. I could never quite get myself in the mood to write the end. For those who crave more, however, be sure to check out http://vagabeto.blogspot.com. There I will be tracking my summer without a home.

Thanks so much for reading and I wish everyone luck in all of life's adventures; be they in Europe or elsewhere.

I start this entry in the McDonalds of the Frankfurt international airport. I was quite enjoying the 30 minutes of free wireless, but now being forced to pay, and not having any chance of catching another nap, I start another journal entry in Microsoft Word like I have done so many times before. This will be one of the last ones. It should have been the last one except that my terrible updating as of late means that I still need to get some pics of the last few weeks onto the ‘ol bloggy blog. Those come soon.

Well, quite similar to my entry just over a year ago in the Houston airport, my mood seems to be in the gutter with existing circumstances. Of course it doesn’t help that I’ve been trying to reset my body-clock early; however, seeing as it is now 4:20 am in Denver right now, we can see that isn’t quite working too well.

Saying goodbye is tough. Always is. But yesterday and today I didn’t just say goodbye to people very close to me, I said goodbye to one hell of a year abroad. And the stories and memories and experiences that go along with it. It’s funny how much I was looking forward to getting back to Stanford for the past month that I was just in complete denial that the day would ever come where I would have to step on that plane back to the States. And when it comes it sucks. I’m frankly not ready. I was always joking with people that the reason I returned to Moscow for the summer is because they couldn’t force me back to the States quite yet. But now they are. I like Europe. I like Moscow. I like Paris. For all the bribes, traveling losses, late nights, and teary eyes, goddam, this was a good year. Well, I’m never to good at reflecting (how did I ever get through the International School of the Americas?) so I’ll leave you here and encourage you to do what I generally try to do but sometimes fail miserably: keep looking ahead. It’s not looking too bad. But it’s awful hard for me to look in that direction right now.

последний день в работе (posledniy den v rabote)

Yes it has arrived and today is my last day in work. What is it about Moscow that makes the time just pass way too freaking quickly? Well, no use complaining about it, just gotta enjoy it while you can.

And speaking of enjoying oneself, it seems to be a Russian specialty. Since starting here about two and a half months ago, there have been at least three going away parties for co-workers. This tradition isn't so foreign except for a couple of reasons. First of all. There is alcohol. As I was informed, it isn't like this at all Russian firms (that not the Ernst and Young way!) but it seems to be the norm here. As I speak, the company's driver is out getting "supplies." Second of all, the attitude isn't so much "it's great that your moving on and I want to throw a party to commend you" but more "you're moving on and you're going to buy me beer and pizza to show your appreciation for the firm." Oh boy. Well, that was an interesting proposition for a lowly intern earning, well, not that much. So I was both dreading and looking forward to today throughout this past week. While looking into buying supplies today, however, I learned that our amazing secretary was already "all over that shit," as they say in the states. She had sent out a driver to pick up supplies and wasn't even fully aware that it was my last day. This tells me two things: 1) Something else is happening. The company just doesn't throw parties like this on a whim. 2) I don't have to go broke! She told me to just buy a cake and I'll be golden. As to what else is happening, I think my boss just got promoted to director of the Moscow office. But don't tell anyone I said that, I think they're supposed to find out in a couple of hours.

Anyway, it is a sad last day, and yes, I am using part of it to update my blog. But hey, I rarely update anyway, so I don't feel so bad. I already spent the better part of the morning getting a project done that was due "an hour ago" at the time it was handed to me. Enough work. It's time to kick back with some pizza and beer and reflect on what a great summer it has been.

of our weekend trip to before I forget it!

*Approximately one week ago I was gearing up for a prime game of Beirut to be played at our friend Paddy's house. No he's not American, but he loves it anyway! Actually, I think there were only two yanks.
*What I seemed to forget was how early in the morning our flight was the next day.
*Getting up on Friday morning: not so zesty.
*A way too long public transportation trek to the airport on the opposit side of town. Hour and a half was it?
*Meeting the (literally) cheery James at Domodevskaya metro. Damn morning people.
*Tatarstan Airlines again?? I thought we bought with Sibir!
*Have you ever rode a plane whose manufacturer's name is "YAK 43" and boarded it through it's ass ? I have.
* Nizhni Novgorod is one of the biggest cities in Russia. The airport was slightly bigger than my freshman dorm.
*Complete winging it in Nizhni for awhile. First order: find a random bus and ask the locals how to get downtown.
*Somehow we get there and find the local pedestrian street that is the city's center. It's bustling (not really).
*We find a quality biznes lanch for 150 roobs each that included a bottle of French (not really) wine.
*Tour of the Kremlin. Nizhni style. It's not as cool, but still very beautiful and chock full of the obligatory pregnant brides with depressed grooms and their entourages following with champagne and vodka.
*Alright, that's about it. I'm ready for Cheboksari (Olya's hometown and recently declared center of the universe).
*After deciding a taxi would cost too much. We shell out about $7 for a 250km ride to Cheboksari. Nice.
*We found out why it was so cheap: no available oxygen. Instead a fresh supply of smog and sweaty Russians to fill our sinuses. Don't blow your nose, you won't like what comes out.
*We finally make it and chow down on yummy yumminess made by Sveta and Baba Zoya (famed cooks and rumored relatives of Olya's).
*Oh no. Of all places, we go to the local Irish pub! Love the union jack that greets everyone as they walk in the doors.
*Next morning brings Oly's baptism. Yes baptism for a 26 year old. You see, some family friends wanted her to be their baby's Godmother, but she had to be baptized herself. Thus the whole reason for coming down in the first place. So her baptism took awhile. Round three hours. Cute service (is that what they're called?), but the lack of seats in the small Russian Orthodox church got very old very quickly.
*We get some authentic Chuvash cuisine for lunch. Kinda like Russian cuisine, but more bold at times.
*Prepare for the next activity: some beers and snacks.
*The ultimate in relaxation: banya. For three hours, Ksenya's (the good getting baptized the next day) parents treated us to Cheboksary's premier banya; the president of Chuvashia is rumored to frequent the place. That's not sarcastic, but to say that it was really nice and quite the classy place. It included a sauna, cooling pool, numerous showers (one with a radio), changing room, some kind of pool table, electric massage tables, and relaxation room with kettle, refrigerator, and leather couches. Oh yeah, there was also a nice bathroom with a faulty lock; ask Petya for details.
*More and more yummy homemade food, this time From Petya's mom. BTW, Petya has possibly some of the coolest parents I've ever met. Too many things to list, but here's a great example: his dad was going 4 years strong reading Ulyses for fun.
*City wandering with a few beers. Jeeze, that was a tiring day.
*A great sleep and a great breakfast. Unfortunately Olya was off again to take care of the baptism stuff.
*So the rest of us went to take a journey across the river to the lush and beautiful forest along the Volga River.
*There we end up meeting up quite the legend: Narodnaya Actrisa (a big deal title in the USSR and Russia) Vera Koumina a.k.a. Petya's grandma. No idea how old she was, but she was dragging us along the forest, where she was on vacation, pointing out the wild mushrooms and Chuvash wood sculptures that dotted the forest and were made by a friend of hers.
*With full supplies we gather the basic materials for a fire to cook our sausages that were the center piece of our picnic.
*An hour and a half, a lot of wood, and two valiant attempts later, we had no fire. The wood might have been a tad too damp. Oh well, there was actually plenty of other great stuff to munch on and we ended up full nonetheless.
*Back to the mainland. It's not really the mainland, but taking a fairy across a huge river back to the city really makes you feel like you've been on an island for the past four hours.
*A quick visit to Petya's and another way-too-yummy dinner at Olya's and it was already time to finish the weekend and head back to Moscow.
*Almost the entire city of Cheboksary was at the one train station which sends off a nightly train to Moscow. Armed with beer, crab apples, and about seven people total in our party, we reluctantly said goodbye and made our 12 hour journey back to the big city. Sad, yes, I know. But we made the train trip the most of what we could. Not all the beer was drank, but damn, there was a lot. And hey, if we had had the mental capacity to find the last beer, I'm sure we would have drank that too.
*Anyway, next morning. 7am Moscow. How many times have I felt that same feeling of "why did I drink on the train last night?" while cruising the early-morning metro on Monday in Moscow?
*BTW, if you're ever wondering, Amerikanski Bar i Grill does one hell of a breakfast. Plus it was about a fifteen minute walk to my work. Happy days.
*In to work a little early to change into the shirt and shoes that I had left the previous Thursday. On my way in, before changing, I get a comment from my supervisor: "long night?"
*"No. Long weekend." But a good one.

I'm really falling behind here. What ever happened to 'sure, I'll update every other day!'? Well, before I get into our wonderful weekend in Chubashiya, a quick anecdote to show you that no matter what, Russia always get's the best of you - even if it has nothing to do with the crippling bureacracy or people at all for that matter.

So to properly understand the summer weather here, you have to understand that it is nothing like the predictable summers you get in most places in the states. First of all, we're still very far north which means that we are susceptible to cold fronts (yes that's right) even during the summer. Another thing is that like most Northern European towns, air conditioners are just not that common here. Which means when it gets above 30 celcius (about 86) it gets rediculously hot and sweaty around these parts. And you thought Russians were stinky through the other parts of the year. The last thing is that there is a lot of rain and cool thunderstorms which always provide a great show but also make trying to predict what you're going to wear to work and deciding weather or not to bring an umbrella, a difficult task.

So anyway, my parents, with there nice March visit in Paris brought me many wonderful things from the United States - one of which is Claritin D; the allergy sufferers proverbial water from the holy grail. I take "as-is," so I thought the ten box supply would do me fine through the rest of my time in Europe. Not so much. I found the lone last pill yesterday getting ready for work. 'No,' I thought. 'I'll save it for a day when I really need it. Besides, looks like a pretty mild day out there.' It actually had been nice and mild (with a few cold ones mixed in) for awhile and the mild wind probably wouldn't provoke the flowers too much. And it didn't. The problem was it did get a bit hot yesterday. Not too bad (I think 28 celcius), but enough too fire up the ol' air conditioner in the office. No problem. Earlier in June and July I was ready to convert to air conditionology for the cool and refreshing relief that was my personal savior during the earlier heat-wave. But yesterday she turned on me. As I found out earlier, Russians aren't big on changing their filters. I don't even think they have a concept of filters. At least not in this office. Dust. Lots of it. I could almost see it spewing out from the drudges of sleepy filter-confined solitude and delightfully sprayed out in the air and swept into my sinuses. At least 9 times in a row. Well, that's what I counted. Usually I'm a one-time sneezer. I get giddy when people like my dad go over two times. Think it's the most hilarious thing in the world. By my fourth I was halfway down to the batroom after finding no tissues in my bag and the napkin-holder in the kitchen conveniently empty. It was a terrible sight. You can only imagine. Thank God I'm past that "awkward intern" stage and most people were able to laugh it off.

After returning to my desk armed with an entire roll of toilet paper, my sinuses gave my poor nose a break and only eeked out a few more over the course of an hour. The absolute worst part, however, is how my friendly co-worker Sveta (who is generally opposed to all air-conditioners) kindly reminded me how any cold air makes people sick, offering my current state as an example, and told me how I would probably be missing work tomorrow because I now have a cold. Why the mommy-medicine mentality people? Russians are big on science. I know it. Why do they cling to these outdated, unproven falsehoods? Anyway, after endless arguing earlier this summer on the same subject, I could do nothing but blow my nose, shake my head, and utter one simple word which I knew wouldn't convince her in the least bit: "dust."

I now have that last pill in my pocket and it's itching to be swallowed. Nope. High of 18 ('bout 67) today. No air conditioning necessary. Best save it for a day when I really need it.

принарядиться (prinaryaditsya) - to spruce oneself up

Didn't actually discover this one myself, but too good to leave out.

Well, I'm becoming quite the neglectful blogger. Yes, things are happening, but I just can't seem to find that time to update. Today I find myself with a surprising lack of work (I actually have yet to do anything productive today except checkup on my paycheck). A few quick highlights from this weekend:

*Micha accidentally overstayed her visa. Whoops. Big whoops.
*Frantic last-minute preparations for a trip down to the volga-region for this next weekend
*Meeting Fiona's co-workers for their "due-leave" (I think that's what she called it) at a typical Russian restaurant: ambiguous "eastern" decoration with lots of hookahs, shashliks, and needless face control.
*Dave is back on game and we end up out the Silver's of this summer: Tema.
*As usual, good times at Tema.
*Wait a minute, WHERE'S DAVE?
*Phew, there he is.
*An "early" night: in before 3 am.
*Metelitsa's Sport Land casino bar for a full day of English Premiership football.
*Damn, that's a lot of soccer.
*Escape for a red bull and shaurma.
*Leaving Fiona to an awkward conversation with my boss as I go play blackjack.
*I actually won! Better get out quick before I lose my winnings!
*Dave is really back in full form and ready for another night out.
*Never, ever go to Park Avenue Disco, no matter how cheap they say the drinks are. Face control is sometimes a good thing.
*Rediscovering Fabrique and endless oontz oontz dance music till 4am.
*Vodka shots are the cheapest drinks on the menu.
*Sleep almost all day Sunday.
*Jazz at the hermitage gardens. Yeah.
*An extremely pleasant dinner at Margarita Cafe right on Patriarchs Ponds while being serenaded by two very enthusiastic female violinists.
*The entire French community in Moscow only dines at Margarita Cafe.
*Farewell drinks at Micha's apartment. I hope that's a joke. We'll find out soon.

Good luck to Micha and her adventures to Estonia and dealing with the Russian authorities. Last night Dave, Anna, and Josh brought over some ping pong balls, cups, and beers as we played a few games of Beirut in your honor. We hope you were very honored.

змеи на самолете (emei na samolote) - snakes on a plane

I've been following this little movie and some of its fan creations from abroad for awhile now. It opens tomorrow in the states and this is probably the first time that I would much prefer to be home than in Russia, just to see this quality film. Better be showing when I get back.

So I know I'm still terrible at updating. And all my pics aren't up from Turkey even though the trip was almost a month ago. But our home internet is really slow! I know, I know, you're saying: "but Beto, why don't you update at work where you have broadband?" Well, the answer to that question is that I am the hardest-working intern that ever got payed terrible wages and I don't have time for such trivialities. That or I'm just getting lazy with the blog. Most likely the latter.

A rough one in work this morning thanks to a little going away party for our British buddy Jamie who is taking time out to head back to the big island and participate in some "army games" as he puts it. Since he won't be drinking for the next three months, he tried to stick it all in last night and invited me to join in. Oy. Oh man, I can't even oy without my head hurting.