Geri's Take on...

Last night a girl from Buffalo New York stood in Red Square, Moscow, Russia and watched the practice for the 2010 Victory Day Celebration. This year is a HUGE year for Russian World War II veterans (and indeed all WWII vets) as it’s the 65th Anniversary of the defeat of the Axis powers and the end of the war.

My husband came home and said we had a lucky opportunity to go view a practice of the Red Square ceremony last night, if we were willing to find our way around the shut-down streets and through the crowds lining the roads to see the practice. I couldn’t believe it and still am amazed that we got there and witnessed something that until now has only been a small blip on the news for me, with the famous shot of the Kremlin on Victory Day.

I’ll save you the devastating history lesson on WWII in Russia–it’s one I study almost daily as I research story ideas. You can find summaries of dates, battles, lives lost and other historical facts readily enough. But you won’t find what I’ve had the privilege of witnessing on the faces of the many Russian WWII vets I’ve had the honor to meet during our posting in Moscow. Whenever one of the veterans holds my hand and tells me a bit of their particular story, I feel as though I’m talking to someone from my family. Any boundaries of country or nationality drop when the discussion of WWII comes up, for we are all human and utterly vulnerable when it comes to war.  In the Russian veteran faces I see strength, love of homeland, sorrow, and resilience. Just as with our own generation of WWII vets in the States, these vets saw and did deeds that the vast majority of us will only know snippets of from film and television. Thanks to their sacrifices you and I have lived to see this generation enjoy the greatest life has to offer.

As I sat and watched the thousands of troops marching, I marveled when I saw the US contingent stride by, along with other Russian WWII allies. When I was doing air raid drills in 2nd grade against the outside hallways of my school I never could have imagined I’d not only see Red Square in person, I’d live in Russia as a military spouse. So many emotions flooded through me as I listened to the incredible orchestra play the most complicated pieces, yet all in unison across the expanse of the square.  The years I served during the Cold War. Our grandparents and parents who fought and/or lived through the war. The suffering of so many on all sides during WWII. The tireless diplomats who’ve worked to make sure this Yankee can indeed sit in Red Square in 2010. Then the recognition of Russia’s rich, at times incomprehensible history. All of the Tsars and Tsarinas. The peasants who provided merchants with food and cloth. The many centuries of people who’ve walked across Red Square, day or night, in all seasons, all states of being that a country endures–war, peace, uncertainty, victory.

I’m here because of my husband’s job but I am a writer and I see Moscow and Russia with my writer’s eyes and writer’s soul.  I am so grateful to be able to absorb what I’m learning about Russia and her people not just through the television or a book. I’m living it, with each trip on the Metro, each walk through a wonderful museum, each taste of a pemeni or borscht.  Last night I realized what a blessed Yankee I am.

Moscow is a city of wonder especially in the winter. The hardest adjustment here is learning to grocery shop in bursts. While we have one-stop shopping available, it’s not as convenient to either get to (you have to have your car to haul the groceries back) and unless you get there when they open or very early in the a.m., stores such as Metro (Cash&Carry) and Auchan are so busy that you have to add hours to your shopping trip. And of course, there is the sticker shock.  I paid the equivalent of $9.00 for a pint of raspberries yesterday. I needed/wanted them for a dessert I’m making for a dinner. A luxury, yes, but sometimes in the cold and often gray days of winter the simple burst of red from a raspberry can be paradise.

I prefer to support my local vendors when I can, which means a trip out to the kiosks that are sprinkled all around the metro stations. So many of you ask me what a typical day in Moscow is like–there is no “typical” day. But here’s a glimpse…

I began the day with my usual morning routine–coffee, prayer, coffee, writing. Did I say coffee? Actually I don’t drink that much, and keep my caffeine intake low. But I do enjoy that hot drink to coax me awake. Then I prepared to go shopping for fresh fruits&veggies, some flowers, and maybe even take-out lunch from the local kebab/shashlik place. As it was a Russian holiday I was lucky enough to get my husband to go with me, to carry the treasures. I didn’t tell him about my plan to take pics all along the way, so in one picture you’ll see his “okay, how many photos of an alley are you going to take?” expression. Yup, I married a saint and I know it.

When we walked out of the embassy gate I looked to my left as we crossed the street and spied where I knew I’d be later. Can you see the skaters in between the fence posts? It’s part of the biggest ice rink I’ve ever been on–they flood and freeze a soccer field. And it’s only a 5 minute walk from my door!

Back to the grocery shopping. Check out the snow–we’re in the midst of a record-breaking year for snowfall and temperatures. We stomped and climbed through snow to get to the alley that we cut through to get to the major kiosk area near us–at the Barrikadnaya Metro Station.  Notice the statue that is our protector as we walk through the alley. It’s only one of several magnificent statues on this particular Seven Sister building–there are 7 of these gothic-inspired, “wedding cake” buildings that were commissioned and built in the 1950’s.

There are kiosks for flowers, beer, bread, kebabs, fruit and veggies, rottisserie chicken..pretty much whatever you need when you’re going to or from the Metro on your way home or to some romantic rendezvous (I put this in here to keep your attention). Because of the heavy snow and flat rooftops of the kiosks, the owners have to shovel off the snow, which can be a danger to those of us walking below!

Barrikadnaya Metro Station–Kiosk Heaven

I found most of the fruits and veggies I sought, minus any fresh herbs like parsley and mint, and green onions. It’s interesting to me what can be available depending on the day and time of year.

I was distracted for a moment when I saw the new My My (moo-moo) restaurant that’s opened near the zoo, also near the Barrikadnaya Metro. My-My’s has a tasty, affordable selection of Russian faire to include borscht, beet salads, roasted meats and pemeni, the Russian verson of tortellini/ravioli.

I was lucky to be able to finish out the day as I’d hoped–on the ice. My kids took these pics, and while I’ve come a long way from skating during the Blizzard of ‘77 in Buffalo, New York, it’s a great thing to be able to get on the ice again, all these, um, many years later.

I hope you get to go out and make the most of your day, wherever you are, whatever your abilities, limitations, blessings, or crosses.

It’s how you feel, dahlink, not the date on the birth certificate!

The most common phrase heard from a Russian friend this time of year is Happy New Year (in Russian, of course)! New Year’s is the biggest holiday celebration in the former Soviet Union. There are Christmas trees galore, but they are referred to as New Year’s trees. A comeback of Christmas is happening, but I’ve seen far more signs and advertisements that wish Happy New Year than Merry Christmas. The Russian Orthodox Church celebrates Orthodox Christmas one week after New Year’s, so for us Westerner’s it’s a great time–three weeks of Christmas and celebration!

My husband took the picture of me in Red Square a few weeks ago. There’s a lot more snow today, but the tree is there and we look forward to seeing it with a backdrop of fireworks on New Year’s Eve at midnight. Yes, we’re going to take the kids and brave the crowds and cold and spraying bottles of champagne. If I capture any good shots I’ll post them here.

Check out the bride, and check out her fur! Brides are seen everyday of the week, having photos taken around the city at significant monuments and city sights (Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, Red Square, various bridges). Another common sight here is–fur. I have never seen so many women in full-length furs. Many have been passed down through families, judging by the styles. In a country with little former access to modern materials (I’m talking for the masses, not the folks living in the bigger cities) it’s easy to understand why fur is the warmest choice. I’ll stick to my Gortex and/or down options, but it’s interesting to see how another part of the world stays warm.

I wish you the warmest New Year ever. May you find Health, Peace, Joy, and Serenity.

No, really. Okay, it was just the power source, and it was my fault. I knew that the computer, just like the monitor and other electronics we have, is dual voltage. But the computer, UNLIKE the other electronic items, requires one to flip the physical switch on the back to “220v.” I didn’t. I was trying to conserve transformer usage–I blew up a transformer a couple weeks before the computer, as I printed out the revised copy of SASHA’s DAD, my June 2010 Harlequin Super Romance.  Laser printer + 362 pages + small transformer = loud “pop,” smoke, horrible odor, tears of frustration.

A writer is a professional, though, and I finished and turned in the revisions on time. No excuses, ma’am. I didn’t like using the “family” computer but found myself practicing gratitude that I had any computer at all. How did Charles Dickens do it? By hand.

More good news is that the computer appears to have only lost the power source–I should be able to use it, eventually. The tech hasn’t returned it yet. And I deftly manipulated these events to justify the purchase of a new laptop for moi. I use an alphasmart (think small word processor, very portable) but I need Internet hook-up and an ability to edit on the road. The flight back to the States from Moscow is 10 hrs–that’s a lot of writing time. The laptop will be lovely to have.

I have so much to share about my new life in Moscow. I’ve been to so many fantastic places to include the honey market (think wine fest/tasting but with a rainbow of honey colors and flavors).

Last week I fulfilled an adolescent dream (that’s a long time ago in my lifespan to date) and saw Elton John on his Red Piano tour. His voice is so powerful at 62–he rocks! And he played the old songs I grew up to–many from Goodbye Yellow Brick Road. The number that remains with me a week later is Someone Saved My Life Tonight. While Elton and his marvelous band played, a mini-film of a younger Elton struggling (I interpreted) with his addictions lit up the screen behind the stage. While the images were sobering (no pun intended) and grotesque, I found the overall presentation to be incredibly spiritual. I left the concert wanting to write the best stories ever, to contribute my best work to the world of art.

I promise many incredible photos of Moscow and Russia in the next post, provided that my computer is returned and/or I receive my new laptop in the mail by then. Keep on doing whatever it is that brings you joy in life!

I’ve lived in Russia for over a month. An entire month–longer than most vacations, shorter than any Navy deployment I ever completed. Yet I feel the hands of the Russian culture as they beckon me to explore.

Reminders of this nation’s culture and history are everywhere. From the statues throughout the city, to the breathtaking views along the Moscow River, to the varied architecture, it’s obvious this is not a young country by any means. Moscow was founded in the middle of the 12th century. Keeps my own years in perspective–I’m still young!

What’s impressed me most is the constant flow of ideas for my writing. Whether I’m looking at a statue of Pushkin on the Old Arbat or watching folks sunbathe in Gorky park as I float down the river on a city cruise, ideas and themes abound.

I had an opportunity to visit Tolstoy’s estate, approximately 3.5 hours south of Moscow. Used to these types of bus tours, I packed appropriately. Knitting helps writing ideas come to mind, and I have a notebook with me  at all times.

The bus ride was bumpy and seemed endless at times, until we wound through the town of Tyla and then into Tolstoy’s estate grounds.

The view as we started our walk is one I’ll always treasure and associate with Russia. The birch-lined road felt more like a cathedral as the sun filtered through the tallest boughs. The white bark contrasted with the lush greenery and it was clear this was a place of respite and serenity.

From the cafe-laden streets of Moscow to the majesty of one of Russia’s, and the world’s, greatest author’s home, I daresay this is a place for writers.