Victory Day

Yesterday was Victory Day, the commemoration of the day that the German Instrument of Surrender in WWII entered into force (if you are a history nerd, you may know that this date is documented as May 8 - however, as it was 11:01 p.m. in Germany, it was already May 9 in the USSR).  We went to see the parade - well, actually, since the real parade takes place only on Red Square, we went to watch the artillery driving back from the parade.  Their return route passes right by the Embassy, so we only had to walk two blocks to find a good viewing spot.

The police were out en force, likely to ensure that we didn't rush the artillery thundering down the road.  It was kind of surreal to watch scores (possibly hundreds; I didn't count) of enormous military vehicles roll through.  I kept wondering whether this was a little taste of what it was actually like to watch military occupations (or liberations) in progress in the last century.

(Not really related, but see the building at the back of the photo below, with the tall spire?  That's the Radisson/Hotel Ukraina.  This will be relevant later in the post.)

Also, we were relieved to know that we had picked the right side of the street for exhaust-less viewing.

Later in the evening, Jeremy and I went out to dinner and to watch the fireworks.  On our way, we stopped in at the Radisson to check out their cool Kremlin diorama, and to marvel at the sheer outrageousness of the mark-ups on souvenirs in the gift shop (like a set of Christmas tree ornaments, offered for just shy of $90, which were identical to a set I got for $10 at Izmailovo market last year).  And then we saw this:

Guess it's a problem.

After dinner, we watched the fireworks.  Had we known that they were going to be at Victory Park, we would have gone there, but we ended up just watching from the bridge by the Radisson.

Also, I was going to do a separate post about Mother's Day, but blogging time has been hard to come by recently, so I will just say it was a great day, and leave you with this visual:

Yum.

Brother, can you spare a kopeck?

One of the things you learn to do in Russia is to hoard change like a miser.  It takes a bit of getting used to if, like me, you're used to counting out exact change at the gas station to get rid of all those pesky pennies and nickels.

But here, when you're trying to buy 287 rubles' worth of groceries, and you only have a 1000-ruble note in your wallet, chances are pretty good that the cashier won't be able to make change.  Even if she can - this is not a case of sexist language; about 98 percent of cashiers are women - you will likely be met with a suspicious stare and a glance into your wallet to ascertain whether or not you are lying.

(I have learned to open and close my wallet with lightening speed, especially when shopping at the larger stores where I KNOW they can break a 1000-ruble note.  Also, when asked whether I have change, I lie shamelessly, to save my coins and small bills for the neighborhood shops where they are really necessary.)

The truly irritating thing about all of this is that prices are still marked in kopecks.  To the hundredth place, too.  And while I have a few odd 10- and 50-kopeck pieces in my change purse, I've never seen a 1-kopeck piece - well, not since 1987, when a few kopecks could actually buy you something.  (Currently, they are worth about 1/4 of a penny.)  So it's nearly impossible to EVER have exact change.  And the cashiers will generally just round up to the tenth. 

Kopecks aren't the only coins here, though.  There are 1-, 2-, 5- and 10-ruble coins.  Notes only go down to 10 rubles.  So, in order to have exact change, you must always be carrying an array of coins in your purse or pocket.  If not, and the shop truly doesn't have change, you may be unable to purchase what you need.

On Sunday, I ventured out to a butcher shop recommended by a friend.  After the butcher had measured out a kilo of chicken breasts for me, we discovered that I did not have exact change, and that he was unable to break my smallest bill.  I fully expected to have to hand back the bag of chicken, but he told me to bring the money the following day.  I was floored.

I went back on Monday to pay him and buy what turned out to be some very nice ground beef.  I wonder whether he knows he has just scored a loyal customer?

What a difference a month makes

April 2:

May 3:

We bought the patio furniture at IKEA this weekend.  I fully intend to spend every sunny afternoon sitting outside with the girls.  So I didn't even cringe (as much as I usually would have) when a quick check on the IKEA web site revealed that, in the States, the exact same set would have cost us about $300.  We paid nearly twice that much.  Yes, summer is short here, but after the long winter, that just means we will get double enjoyment out of it.  (That makes sense, yes?)

Tots Around Town Tuesdays: Novodevichy Convent

It seems we are not meant to actually make it into the convent. Last Tuesday, E and I pushed our strollers up to the bus stop to catch the 64 bus to the convent, only to find that the bus only runs once an hour, and we had just missed the last one. So we walked to a nearby playground instead.

This week, we got to the stop on time, and had a nice ride to the convent.


We walked up to the gate, only to be told by a flat-hatted policeman that the morning service was over and the convent was closed for Tuesday cleaning.



Luckily, there is a nice pond and playground right next to Novodevichy, so we spent the morning there instead.



Then we played on the "Make Way for Ducklings" sculpture by the pond. I remember this book from my childhood - it's about a family of ducklings who live in the Boston Public Garden lagoon, and the original sculpture is displayed in the garden. In 1991, Barbara Bush gave this copy to Raisa Gorbachev.

Natasha went down the row, kissing all the ducks.

Ding dong ...

Two different kinds of bells tolled this weekend.

Westminster Abbey bells:  I totally got goosebumps and a lump in my throat while watching the royal wedding.  I admit it.  I'm a sap.  She looked amazing.  He was beaming.  Monarchy is kind of cool.  I know it's totally the opposite of American, but I dig it.  (Also, don't tell me that Hollywood celebrities are like our royalty unless you would like to watch me throw up in my mouth.  Seriously, who would be Queen?  Angelina Jolie?  Kim Kardashian?  Let's rule out everyone who has made a s.e.x  t.a.p.e. and see who is left.)

The-witch-is-dead bells: I have rewritten this five times since this morning.  I guess I am having trouble processing the news of Osama bin Laden's death.  On the one hand, as an American, I am glad that we finally punched him back.  On the other hand, as a Christian, I have trouble with the idea of rejoicing because someone has been killed.  I remember the videos of Palestinians dancing in the streets after the towers collapsed, and how disgusted and angry it made us.  I don't think the footage of Americans celebrating in the streets is the same, exactly - there is a difference in glee at the death of innocents, and glee at the death of a killer - but it is reminiscent.

So, while I'm not sorry he's dead, I can't say that I'm happy or excited about the news.  Not just from a religious point of view, but also because I don't know what this changes.  Does it bring our servicemen and women home?  Does it kill al Qaeda?

A friend of mine pointed out that it shows that America WILL root out the bad guys and get them, even if it takes 10 years.  I guess that's something.