Don't Talk to Strangers

Do not talk to strangers and certainly do not get in their cars. That is what I have been taught all my life. Yet, getting into a stranger’s car is exactly what you have to do in Moscow, if you want a ride from point A to point B. Taxis in Moscow are almost non-existent. You can order one over the phone, but it will take considerable time for it to come and pick you up.

Entrepreneurial car owners work hard to fill this deficit in licensed taxis. If you stand on the curb and stretch your arm out, a private car will inevitably pull over. You give the driver your destination and bargain over the price. Once you agree on the price, you can get in the car. If you cannot agree, you try your luck with a different car and driver.

Russian society is still rather male dominated. A lone woman hailing a car late at night would not surprise many. However, a woman, accompanied by an able man, yet still doing all the talking, and making decisions herself does put the drivers on guard. Since Nick does not speak Russian, I had to talk to the drivers, while they stared at Nick clearly wondering why they had to deal with a woman.

As on our previous trip, when coming back from our friends’ house late at night, Nick and I decided to get a car. Our friends expertly flagged down the car, settled on the price, and ushered us in. Since all the required conversation with the driver was finished, I let Nick get in the front in hopes of preserving appearances.

The minute we got in the car, the driver yelled at Nick for closing the car door too hard. I apologized profusely, while Nick, all flustered, kept trying to buckle up. “You don’t need to buckle up,” said the driver. “He likes to,” I squeaked from the back seat. “What is he, American or something?” So much for appearances. I had to admit that Nick was American, and thus a can of worms was opened.

While speedily weaving between traffic and swearing at his fellow drivers, our driver proceeded to tell me the story of some distant relative of his wife, who moved to Anchorage, Alaska, after marrying an American woman. Six children later, this relative left the woman because she gained 200 pounds. The story did not end there. The woman’s second marriage, 3 more children, and a divorce were all presented to prove the inferiority of American women.

I tried hard to keep quiet and agree with everything the driver said. The conversation soon shifted to comparing salaries and the cost of living in Russia and US. One careless statement from me, referring to “our country” when talking about US, and my last secret was out. “What, you live there too?!” “Yes actually, that is my husband sitting in the front.” The driver’s interest only perked up, and more questions about money, jobs and real estate prices followed.

At some point we started talking about taxi cabs. I had to explain that if I tried to flag a car down in Boston, only licensed taxis would pull over, and that I would never get into a private car even if one did stop. He was surprised to hear that I was weary of being assaulted or kidnapped when getting into a stranger’s car that was not a licensed taxi in any city including Moscow. The driver laughed when I asked him if he was afraid of being assaulted or robbed when picking random people. He said that unlike in other cities, people in Moscow were very friendly—in the past year he has been assaulted only 3 times. “My point exactly,” I thought to myself and felt very thankful that we were almost home.

Morning Walk

With Laila safely returned to her owners, I still took myself out for a walk at 5:45 this morning. It was a little strange to be walking around so early without a dog. And a little sad. In the past week Laila and I very much enjoyed strolling around the Back Bay Fens--the cool air, tender orange rays of the rising sun and the long shadows falling across the greenery. I went back to enjoy it all again this morning.

Laila

Laila is staying with us for about a week. Summers in Boston are hot, and this time Laila arrived at our house shaved. She still carries her large head majestically high, yet together with her fir she lost some of her regal looks. In case you have not met her, Laila is a big and friendly dog, half Golden Retriever and half Great Pyrenees. She is a very well behaved girl, though occasionally, overwhelmed by excitement, she still jumps on people.

This is the third time that Laila is staying with us. The first time was about a year and a half ago, when she was only 10 months old. Back then, Laila and I tended to jump on people together—she would get excited and jump and I, firmly gripping the leash, would inevitably follow. But we all do silly things when we are young.

When taken outdoors Laila loves to explore. When we first met her, she was exploring effects of nicotine on canine digestive system. In the process, she ate up every cigarette butt she could find on the street. Naturally, our entire walks were spent looking for cigarette butts together. When Laila found one she ate it, and when I saw one, I pulled on the leash as hard as I could to prevent her from eating it. Admittedly I still first scream “фу”, and only then remember to shout “leave it,” when I see the dog eating something inappropriate. Thankfully, nowadays Laila is more interested in tracking other dogs, rather then searching for cigarette butts.

Laila will go home on Wednesday night. Maybe I won’t miss getting up early to take her out for a walk, but I will miss the wet nose in my face, and the big dog stretched out at my feet.

The Omnipresent Shoehorns

What is the last time you saw a shoehorn in US? Yet a shoehorn is something no self-respecting Russian can live without. Or at least so it seems.

Our friends in Russia always offered us a shoehorn on our way out. (It is customary to take your shoes off when entering someone’s house in Russia). The little apartment we rented in Moscow did not have a cork screw in its “fully equipped” kitchen, but it had a two foot long shoehorn. The Red Arrow train overnight kit included a shoehorn along with a toothbrush and toothpaste. Even the Domodedovo airport had a shoehorn for passengers to use after they had removed their shoes to go through security.

Back when my parents and I lived in Russia, we had a shoehorn too. It hung on the coat rack by the door. My parents did not use it often—it was mostly for guests, but my grandparents on the other hand used their shoehorn all the time.

Ideally you want to slide your foot into a shoe without damaging its back. You could step into the shoe, and jiggle your foot until it goes in, but that is not ideal for the shoe. You can also help your foot with your hands, but you need to bend down to do that. This is where a two foot long shoehorn comes in very handy—no need to bend down, and no need to bend the shoe.

The Fight Over Yawkey Stop Continues...

I interrupt my impressions on Moscow (more to come soon) to bring you another disappointing letter with have received last week from Mr. Daniel Grabauskas, the General Manager of the MBTA. The following is letter retyped here word for word:

Thank you for your follow up letter of May 1, 2008 regarding the elimination of the Yawkey stop for train P528.

Observations of utilization of Yawkey Station by passengers on P528 were performed randomly over a period of three weeks prior to the overhaul of the entire Framingham/Worcester Line schedule. In addition, the crews of P528 were interviewed about the observations they made relative to P528. The crews confirmed that three or four passengers got off of train P528 on a daily basis.

The revised Framingham/Worcester Line schedules, implemented on Monday, February 18, 2008, are the culmination of a lengthy period of analysis aimed at achieving improved, predictable On Time Performance (OTP). Since the introduction of the new schedules, the desired goal has been achieved.

The OTP for train P528 has improved dramatically. Between January 1, 2008 and February 15, 2008, P528 was on time 21 out of 33 days for an OTP of 67%. Between February 19 and May 12, P528 has been on time 59 out of 60 days for an OTP of 98%. The overall performance of the Framingham/Worcester Line for the same period has increased from 71% to 92%. We are pleased that the adjustments that were made to the schedules have resulted in the improvement we sought to achieve.

Thank you again for taking the time to write.

Why is this letter disappointing? It fails to provide any real data from the survey allegedly conducted by the MBTA on Yawkey Station use. The letter also gives all credit for the drastic improvement in the On Time Performance of the P528 train to the elimination of the stop. It disregards the significant changes made to the train schedules on the Framingham/Worcester line that took effect on the same day as the elimination of the Yawkey stop.

Again, we plan to reply to this letter. We are also considering providing some real data to Mr. Grabauskas that shows a lot more people using the Yawkey Stop on the P528 train before it was eliminated.

Moscow and Portable Toilets

How did Moscow solve the common problem of people in need of answering the call of nature while walking around the city? In a very simple way—porta-potties.

Porta-potties of every color pop up all over the city. Upon first seeing the porta-potties in Red Square, I thought that the authorities brought them out to accommodate the crowds expected on Victory Day. However, as we spent more time in Moscow, we encountered similar facilities almost everywhere we went.

Prices varied depending on the location. The closer the porta-potty was to the city center, or a major tourist attraction, the higher was the fee to use it. Strangely enough we saw some free ones along Nikolskaya Street, but nobody was using them. Perhaps they were locked—I did not check.

Each row of porta-potties was attended by a woman, often an older lady, who collected the money and kept the units relatively clean and stocked with toilet paper. Every porta-potty attendant had her own port-potty. In other words, in a row of porta-potties, there was one never used for nature calls. Instead, it was furnished, probably by the attendant herself, to provide a comfortable shelter from the elements. The ones I happened to see were often decorated, and always well stocked with cleaning supplies, food, newspapers and magazines.

The porta-potties definitely provide an excellent and cheap solution to the common problem of people looking for a public restroom while walking around in Moscow. However, despite their colorfulness, they do not add to the beauty of the city.