Сергеи Ивановитч Куликов -A quiet man’s story

Waking up slowly to the sunshine streaming through the curtains, Сергеи Ивановитч Куликов turned to face his wife’s side of the bed expecting to see her beautiful face relaxed in the arms of sleep.  Instead, he found her empty pillow still cool and fresh having not been slept on last night or any night for the past 4 years.  His precious Юлиа had passed away quietly, in his arms, on April 27th, 2008.  She had been sick for two years and finally succumbed to her illness on that early Spring morning after thanking Сергеи for the beautiful life they shared over the past 62 years.

Stretching his arthritic joints and willing them into submission, he slipped his feet into the slippers that were waiting for him by the side of the bed like faithful companions.  The last thing Юлиа would do before climbing into bed for the night was to make sure that Сергеи’s slippers were in the right spot, ready for his feet in the morning.  Now it is the last thing that Сергеи does before climbing to bed and wishing his beloved Юлиа sweet dreams in hushed and loving tones.

Breakfast for Сергеи has always been a cup of tea and one slice of dark rye bread toasted with a teaspoon of Юлиа’s homemade strawberry jam (the berries came from their garden at their дача -summer home) to make the day start off sweetly.  This morning was no exception.  Noticing that there are only 3 precious jars left of Юлиа’s jam, he reminded himself to speak to his daughter and ask her to make some more this summer.

Today is Friday, Сергеи thinks to himself.  Many people will be leaving their jobs and going directly to their дача to relax and shed the weekday worries that build up over the course of 5 days.  Today Сергеи will tidy the house and go for a walk along the river.  Perhaps he will stop in a park and read his newspaper, basking in the sunlight and fresh breeze that herald the coming of Spring.

Moscow's Got Talent

Do you ever wonder how people who can do really cool tricks or things with their body parts end up discovering they can do them?  Can you cross your eyes (I can actually make mine move together and independently back and forth -it is odd, I admit) or stick your tongue up your nose?  Why would you even try to do that?!  *ahem* Mr. U *cough*  I won't go any further with these thoughts...For now.

This all leads me to my original point which is that last night we were out for dinner at an Italian restaurant with a group of friends and were treated to a really cool talent.  Apparently a couple of the chefs are master pizza dough spinners and they put on a short 'show' for us.  Once I could get my iPhone to work (ugh, I swear it is possessed sometimes and just as stubborn as its owner) I caught the following on tape, so to speak.   

Buon divertimento!

Days are getting longer and hemlines are getting higher

Ah, Spring has sprung.  Skirts are getting shorter, heels are getting higher and people are falling in love and getting married.  Pretty girls are posing for pictures and basking in the sunlight.  This is more like the warm-weather Moscow that I remember from when we first arrived here in July, 2011.

Sparrow Hill is where couples come to have their wedding photos taken.  The lookout provides a view of the entire city of Moscow, with the Moscow State University in the background (it is one of Stalin's Seven Sisters).

Always a bridesmaid, never a bride.

Before and After...

 

Le cierge pascal

Taking advantage of the beautiful Spring weather, we played tourist on Saturday.  Out of sheer coincidence, we visited the Новодевичье монастырь  и кла́дбище (Novodevichiy convent and cemetery) in the afternoon and were witness to a midnight mass later that night.

photo: Mark Bond

Still feeling adventurous after our long day of playing tourist, we decided to try a new restaurant -the Louisiana Steak House.  Despite the bartender breaking the blender with our drink orders (apparently ordering a margarita is complicated in a cowboy-themed restaurant) and taking forever to bring the beer some of us ordered, we managed to have a fun evening. Our server didn't know how to take us at first but eventually figured out that we were generally harmless.  The language barrier made things very challenging for some of us at the table (*ahem, I held my own, TYVM).  At that point that she started treating us like little children because it was easier that way.  It was all very amusing.  The funny thing is that we are all at least 10 years older than she is.  She was cute and got a good tip for her troubles (pains?).  After a good steak dinner (yum!) and a fun night out with great friends, it was near midnight and time to head home.

The sign reads: Louisiana Steak House

Don't worry, I signed up with the Captain but I'm pretty sure we weren't in NOLA.

Oh my.

A wrong turn down a side street led us, purely by chance, to the church seen below.  The traffic was stopped and we had no idea why.  It turns out that the streets were blocked with church-goers celebrating Orthodox Easter.  The church bells were being rung by hand (and foot!) for 15 minutes.  It was a sight (and sound) to behold.  All of the women had their heads covered and each person held a lit candle, sharing their flames and light with each other.  It was beautiful.

*if you look to the right of the clock face in the bell tower, you can just make out the person ringing the bells

A little lesson about Orthodox Easter in Russia...

Russian Orthodox Easter Customs
http://www.holidays.net/easter/russianeaster.htm

Easter is the predominant springtime feast celebrated by the Russian Orthodox. For religious Russians, the entire Lenten Season, referred to as the Quadragesima, has a markedly different feel than normal, day-to-day life. Historically, all theatre and music performances were banned during Lent, as they were considered distraction from the Lenten proscription to reflect and repent. Today, these public restrictions have lessened, although many individuals still maintain a strict adherence to the requirements of Lent, including not eating meat, eggs or other animal products during the 40 day "fast".

Holy week, beginning with Palm Sunday, is a time of great activity in Russian homes, including spring cleaning and baking Easter bread. On Holy Thursday, Russians paint their Easter eggs using their traditional method of boiling onion peels and scraps of silk together with the eggs. Painted eggs are a universal symbol of Easter, but in Russia they take on even greater significance. Russian Easter eggs are believed to possess magical powers-from protecting crops to warding off evil spirits. Many hide an Easter egg in the foundation of their home, believing that it will bring prosperity.

On Holy Saturday, a strict day fasting in which no food may be eaten at all, families are nonetheless busy preparing for the Easter feast. The feast, served to break the fast after the midnight mass, includes the Paskha Easter cake, baked on Holy Saturday.

Like in Greece, Easter Mass in Russia is held on Saturday night. Worshipers congregate in a totally darkened church, which symbolizes the despair of a world without faith in Jesus Christ. Historically, the eve of Holy Saturday was considered a haunted time, in which satanic creatures tormented townsmen. People were afraid to go out after dark, but persevered to attend Mass, since Church was considered a safe haven.

As midnight approaches, worshipers light candles and then, at the strike of 12 o'clock, church bells announce the resurrection of Christ. An intensely joyful Orthodox liturgical chant can be heard throughout the streets of Russia until the conclusion of Easter Mass at dawn.

Worshipers return to their homes for a long family feast. Tables are traditionally decorated with fresh flowers and painted eggs. In addition to the Easter bread and Paskha cake, foods prohibited during the 40 Day Fast, such as sausage, bacon, cheese and milk, are also served.

After breakfast, people go out to visit friends and neighbors, bringing with them baskets of painted eggs and Easter breads to exchange. An old Russian fable tells that an Easter egg given from the heart will never spoil. People also visit cemeteries, bringing eggs, bread and even beer to their deceased relatives.

Who knows what evil lurks on the underside of stoves?

Here is my "funny" story of the day -well, funny in retrospect, I suppose.

Yesterday, Mr. U received an email requesting permission to enter the apartment in order to do some work today (Wednesday).  It seems that the Embassy is upgrading our gas ovens to safer models -no pilot lights anymore, apparently.  Naturally, the answer was "of course you can come in to provide us with a brand new appliance, TYVM".  The old model was anywhere between 25-75 degrees off depending on the temperature you wanted to set it at.  (Making cookies was a challenge, I tell you.)  I have resorted to a guessing game and an oven thermometer in order to set the desired heat level.  This new one has a digital display so it should be easier to set than the current roulette dial.  I'm thrilled.  It gives me an excuse to try new recipes and bake because I have to test out the oven, don't I?  No specific ETA was given for the work to be done (kind of like Rogers...some time between 8AM and 4PM) so I had to be up, dressed and ready for visitors first thing in the morning because you never know if/when they will be by.  No big deal there.  I am on school break and have no problem with the workers.  They are always sweet and polite with me.

So, around 9:45AM, the guys came to swap out the appliance (yay).  When they moved the stove out to change it...the floor behind the stove was a TOTAL NIGHTMARE.  The guy's comment was: "Oh, only 2 mouse...usually three.  This is good."  I almost died on the spot.  The inventory consisted of used tea bags, some dessicated jelly candies, 2 squashed and decomposing mice, mouse droppings (naturally), popcorn and a crash of dust rhinos.

I have spent the past 30 minutes scrubbing, disinfecting and wiping down the space where the new stove will go.  I almost puked a couple of times. They should be back up in a few minutes to install the new stove which is sitting in the middle of the kitchen.  If it actually works, I'm making cookies.

My hands still smell like bleach.
GROSS

(There are no photos of the mess so just forget about it.  It was all I could do to keep my breakfast down while cleaning everything.  I know, I know, my father would have taken a million photos but I didn't inherit his strong stomach.)

Stroopwafel Ice Cream and Bad Bunnies

Today was a quiet day beginning with a sleep-in (finally, no alarm clock!) and ending with a quiet dinner for two. 

We met up with MM in the early afternoon to exchange some music and photos (the things we can do through the ‘miracle’ of technology are really cool) and then she was kind enough to take me on a quick tour through the Red Light District (oh, come on...I HAD to tick that box).

Street where the Red Light District began -well, the other side of it, really.  Note the multitude of architectural styles all mashed into one church.

And it is on sale, too!

No photos of the doorways though...the girls aren’t a freak show or spectacle -they’re working, trying to make a living.  You all can use your imaginations.  We were joined on our walk by M and with stroopwafle ice cream in hand (OMG, YUM!), we stopped by to see R one more time.

Don't even dream of getting an appointment any time before the month of July.

A few things I have learned about Amsterdam:

1) Bicycles have the right of way unless there is a striped pedestrian crosswalk painted on the road.  DO NOT mess with this or you’ll be on the receiving end of a bell, possibly a few expletives and potentially a few new tire tread marks across your feet.  Make no mistake, you will be in the wrong.  MM swears that there is no beast quite as ruthless as a Dutch woman on a bike who has just been cut off by a pedestrian -tourist or local alike.

2)The weather changes on a dime in the Spring. In order to be prepared for this, it is necessary to carry gloves, an umbrella and sunglasses at all times.

3)If the red light above the doorway is off, the person behind the curtain is busy...and sometimes...”they even a lady”! (*tip of the hat to MB)

4)You can buy a full meal out of a vending machine and get your french fries in a cone.

5)Fast food stands include herring-on-a-bun.  No kidding.

6)Driving a car in the city is simply not a practical or wise option.  If you can imagine, the least of your worries is finding a parking spot!

7)Everyone speaks English and owns a bicycle.

8)You can either buy alcohol or marijuana products in a “coffee shop” but not both at the same time.  One or the other...choose your coffee shop wisely -check the window for the green and white sign to tell you which one it is.

9)Heineken beer is very, very tasty here.

10)Buyer beware...staircases are extremely steep and the steps very narrow (use the railings, they are not just for decoration) and there are sometimes no railings along the canals.  I’m pretty sure you don’t want to go swimming in the water.  I’m also sure that quite a few people have gone into the drink inadvertently (after sampling a touch too much of the offerings of this fair city).

It has been great to be able to enjoy this dynamic city with a ‘local’ as a tour guide.  This weekend excursion couldn’t possibly have been as wonderful without MM’s brilliant advice and awesome company.

The Market of Earthly Delights

50 tulips for 7.50

Up early (yes, I know, I’m supposed to be on vacation), I met MM at her place at 9AM so we could head out to the local Saturday food and flower markets on the Lindengracht and the Noordermarkt along the Westerstraat in the Jordaan.

Stroopwafels-on-demand  YUM!

Fresh stroopwafels and a variety of treats in hand, we proceeded to a hair salon owned and operated by Rachid el Haddad -former Moroccan/Dutch champion kick-boxer turned hair stylist.  I know...I know...but honestly, he did a great job of eradicating my grey hair (they seem to have multiplied exponentially in the past 6 months -I wonder why?) and returning it to a single tone of dark brown.  With MM by my side there was no language barrier and once I saw the results I felt a million times better.  I’m absolutely not brave enough to risk what might happen should I go to a Russian hair shop.  I guess I’ll just have to keep coming back to Amsterdam to have my hair done from now on.  I wonder if Mr. U would finance a trip every 6 weeks?

The view from Rachid el Haddad's hair salon

Hair firmly under control, it was off to a Tattoo Shop just on the other side of the Red Light District to visit with R and see what she was up to.  It turns out she was working on a back piece that melds the imagery from the right panel of Hieronymus Bosch’s Garden of Earthly Delights.  It has been a year in the making and is now about 70% complete.  It was incredible to watch R working freehand from nothing more than a number of pieced-together colour photocopies.  Now that’s talent!

Dermadonna hard at work

It was now drink-o’clock so H, MM and I headed to a bar right beside the St. Nicolaaskerk and seated ourselves downstairs with a view at canal level.  I learned that despite a smoking ban in restaurants, there still are bars that allow smoking (both kinds) provided that you BYOD (I’ll let you figure out what that acronym means).

BYOD

It was great fun to watch the boats filled with tourists go by -funny how people behave when they don’t realize that others can see them/are watching.  We were even treated to a white swan’s antics.  They are really large birds.  Life is good.

A couple of drinks and a yummy caprese sandwich later, it was time to head out.  H took off at top speed on his bike as he was tasked with grabbing ice cream for us and MM and I hoofed it to our rendez-vous point on the bridge where I picked up a hot dog for Mr. U.

It was time to head back to our respective homes for a quick rest before a late dinner at Japanese Pancake World (www.japanesepancakeworld.com).

Open 10 days/closed 10 days, this intimate restaurant that seats 24 at max capacity is run by a lovely German man who takes an enormous amount of pride in his craft.  His offerings are creative and delicious.

Despite his insistence that I should have an  Osaka type of pancake (there are 3 kinds), I stuck to my guns and requested a Hiroshima-style pancake instead.  I’m certainly glad I chose what I did as the kind he wanted me to have (since it was my first time) would have ended in tears and a spoiled meal for me.  I am adventurous to a point -carapace or chitin does not work for me (shades of a New Orleans soft shell crab fiasco) nor does food that is still moving on my plate whether by clever trick or still actually alive.  Apparently there is a certain kind of fish flake that when at room temperature does not move but when placed on a heated surface (such as a stack of freshly-cooked pancakes) they begin to wave as if they are seaweed under the sea.  I almost burst into tears when I saw this on the surface of R’s meal.  Being my father’s daughter, out came the iPhone and I recorded a short video.  Look closely at the pancake stack and you’ll see what I mean.

This was dad’s favourite restaurant in Amsterdam and the owner was saddened to hear of his recent passing.  At the end of the meal he came to us with a bottle of plum wine and we all raised a glass in Zavie’s honour.  After shared memories and shared tears, it was time to head back home in the cool night air.