The next day was time to make the really long journey back to Moscow. When we got to the airport, some people started drinking again which given it was only about 10am, this was probably not the wisest decision. However, even those who didn’t top up their alcohol content at the airport rather reeked of alcohol. As we flew back the plane had a general stench of vodka emanating from many people’s pores. Being the only female on the plane it was also helpful to learn some bladder control as people’s aim when they went to the toilet was not as I might have hoped.
When we finally finished the long journey back to Moscow we went out for dinner at an Uzbek restaurant, and despite it not being one where they served the same food we normally ate, there was still vast amounts of food. We were pretty tired after that and headed back to the hotel earlier than most evenings.
The next day was in many ways the best of the trip, although I won’t explain why here – but it was the day of bruises and shoulder ache. We were shown around parts of Moscow and given a tour of a museum - which was a mixture of honesty and propaganda about the Russians’ role in World War II. If the guide was to be believed, the Russians almost single-handedly defeated the Nazis (we will quietly pass over them coming into the war late because they made a pact with Hitler to carve up Poland between them). We then continued on our tour of the region and ended up having another massive dinner in the evening. The people had put on lots of entertainment and the dancers and singers were really talented. There was Cossack dancing and lots of songs and so on. Really impressive.
This was also one of those evenings where I was happily sitting there and the chap I was there with was translating the latest toast when he suddenly looked at me and said “There saying that you’re now going to give a toast.” My heart sank and my mind had to do a quick bit of work to come up with something coherent. Fortunately because of needing to be translated I could say half as much because it took double the time to convey the message. Relieved, I sat down and was glad that was over for the evening. At that point a gentleman came up to me and asked me to dance and I couldn’t really decline, so I tried to follow his lead and not trip over his feet – or my own for that matter. People did clap at the end but that was probably at the chap’s bravery rather than my somewhat ropey technique. At the end of the song I returned to my seat and a few minutes later someone else asked me to dance and, again, he was a very good dancer and managed to make me look vaguely competent. When that dance was over I returned to my seat (after saying a slightly stumbling thank you in Russian) and felt as though I had done my duty. The next thing I knew yet another person asked me to dance – this really is no indication of talent on my part, I was one of only two females there – and this was the chap I had danced with a couple of nights before. He really was a very, very good dancer and danced so fast and spun me round so many times that I was dizzy by the time we finished and was surprised that I didn’t fall over. I did actually enjoy it, but was relieved to get back to my seat so that my head stopped spinning. It was a very memorable evening though and makes me smile just to think about it. Not that it has inspired me to hone my dancing technique.
The next day we were taken to a town some distance from Moscow to see a Russian Orthodox monastery. It was really interesting, but there was something kind of creepy about it as well. Lots of people were there as it was made up of various chapels that were used by members of the public. The Russian Orthodox church in some ways keeps things very simple in that the chapels were very bare (not even any seats) and they are very dark, but then there are lots of icons on the wall and people queuing to offer prayers and so on, which made it all very busy. I have no issue with religion and think it can be a really important thing and kind of freeing at times, but I found it really repressive in some ways.
Religion was banned under communism but has had a great revival in Russia since communism fell, but it just struck me that they had chosen a different kind of repression instead. Maybe I just didn’t understand the significance of it to them, and certainly someone I was talking to about it was really enthusiastic about the Orthodox Church - and from his description I could see why. But one of the things that went through my mind while I was there was that the church in the past was known as a place of sanctuary, a place where you could be safe from the threats of the world, a place where people could literally find refuge because pursuers wouldn’t cross the threshold to harm them – but somehow that isn’t what I saw in the orthodox church. Instead it just seemed to be about ritual and darkness.
Anyway, after that we went for yet another large lunch which included more toasts and a chap very loudly playing a trumpet as the musical accompaniment. We then had a quick tour of Moscow, went back to Red Square - in daylight hours this time - and then it was time for dinner. Oh how our hearts sank at the thought of more food.
Everyone seemed to have reached saturation point with both the thought of eating and with toasting everything under the sun. However, we gave it a go. There was, once again, some entertainment laid on, which this time were cabaret type singers. I think they were singing fairly up to date Russian songs, but that basically meant the sort of things we would have listened to in the 1960s and 1970s. The chap from work wasn’t there to translate for me at one point but when he came back someone said to him that the song that was being sung was for me. So I asked him to translate and apparently the song was about my “beautiful and clever eyes”, which obviously was entirely accurate. But then… the chap who was singing came up to me mid-song and got me to dance with him. Let me tell you, his eyes were not so beautiful or clever. In fact there was something kind of scary about him. I politely danced with him, but was very glad when I got to sit down because he freaked me out a bit.
There was also a magician there who seemed to want to use me as his assistant at one point, which seemed to involve him putting his hand up my jumper and making a handkerchief disappear. That’s right… a complete stranger put his hand up my jumper in full view of everyone - surely there is something wrong with such behaviour. As the chap I was with wisely commented afterwards “You’d better check you’ve still got two under there” (all was accounted for and correct by the way).
We finally went back to the hotel and collapsed and then the next day we just wandered round the local area and killed some time until we got whisked off for another massive lunch before heading to the airport to come home.
So Russia was good, the people were hospitable, I saw some amazing sights, had some moving experiences, danced with various strangers, was sung to and had someone put their hand up my top. Sounds like a typical Saturday night to me.
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