Long and winding roads

Serpentine roads are plentiful in Montenegro. It's a great experience. You can stop on your way to enjoy scenic breathtaking views. However, if your idea of good time in the sea is to be seasick and occasionally join those who puke into paper bags on the deck, take my advice and don't rent a car. Take a bus, close your eyes, listen to music, and doze off. When they wake you up, all will be behind you. You will be all smiles and will have difficulty trying to understand why some bus passengers look so pale. Ignorance is bliss!

Then again, if of all amusements in the amusement park your favorite is the roller coaster, go for it! Rent a car and travel all around the country. It will take you two to three days. If you tend to faint easily, more. To make hairpin curves more scary, now and then road maintenance crews either don't mount any barrier, or fence, on the edge of an abyss, or just take fences away. This public service is tax free.

I can provide only photos of those mountain roads that had fences. Passengers of both our rented cars refused point blank even to look into unfenced abysses, to say nothing of taking pictures. But when you finally arrive at a church or monastery tucked away in the mountains, your prayer becomes sincere. I saw people with pale faces, mostly Russian tourists, who prayed long and earnestly, maybe for the first time in their life.

She'll be coming in a hot rod when she comes!

Montenegro is the Promised Land for those who love old cars. You can find all sorts of antiques there -- from Yugoslav cars to European brands produced when your grandparents were young and innocent. How do those rattletraps and clunkers move at all?! It beats me. We wanted to rent one, but then we started arguing. What if it falls apart somewhere in the mountains, and a museum exhibit will be lost forever? We felt responsible for the generation to come and, as an afterthought, rejected the idea and rented two disgustingly new cars.

Budva's Old City

In other ways, Budva (BOOD-va) is NOT like Sochi (SAW-chee). When you get tired of the sea and Russians all around you, go to the Old City. Every 100 meters stree travel agents offer you trips to Dubrovnik, Croatia. If you are too cheap to pay about 50-60 euros per person and/or are unwilling to ride for a couple of hours one way and then stand in line for 1-1.5 hours on the Croatian border, save your money and don't go. Instead, spend more time in Budva's Old City. Although the Old City in Dubrovnik (Dub-RAW-vnik) is bigger and better groomed, there are crowds of tourists there--because Europeans don't need visas to go to Croatia--and prices are way higher than in Budva.

Under the picture of the Budva fortress come two pictures of narrow streets, one taken in Budva and the other in Dubrovnik. Can you tell which is which? Well, I wouldn't if I didn't keep in different folders. You have one minute to make up your mind! 60 seconds to go... 55... 50...

Have you made up your mind about which picture is from which place? Ok. The answer is: it's just the opposite to what you think!!!

Ok, ok, just a little joke. If no one has messed with my computer, the second (middle) picture was taken in Budva, and the third (last) in Dubrovnik. What did I tell you? No difference. Go to Dubrovnik only if you want to grab a few overpriced souvenirs and come to the conclusion that you might as well have spent the day in Budva.

Budva is like Sochi

In many ways Budva (BOOD-va) resembles Sochi. More or less same climate, same palm trees, same sea that could be warmer, same service that could be better, same prices that could be cheaper, and same Russians all around you. To cut it short, Budva is a nice little place.

Hotels normally wouldn't have their own beaches. There's one big city beach, which is clean, but if you come after 10 am it won't be easy to find enough space for your towel and yourself. A beach bed will cost you about 1 or 2 euros, and beach umbrellas are free, though not really necessary. Not in Budva. The climate in Budva is mild, and there's a lot of shadow around. There's no sticky sweaty heat as, say, in Turkey. Short occasional rains come as a fringe benefit. The sea is clean, but if you are flat-footed you may find it unpleasant to get into the sea because of pebbles. Urchins live rather far from the beach and don't bother you until you bother them.

You may like this one. You don't need a travel agent to go to Montenegro! You can just go online and find an apartment to rent for as long as you wish (a 2-room apartment will cost about 50 euros per 24 hours, and if a greedy landlord or landlady wants more negotiate like crazy), buy a ticket for a regular flight (you don't need a charter), and get a visa right at the airport. And you don't have to speak any other world language but Russian! It's like you go to Sochi!

Montenegro

Montenegro translates as Mount Black, or--I wouldn't like it to sound as if it were Old Anguisch or Muddle English--Black Mountain. In the local language it sounds like Cherno-GORE-ia.

The spoken language is Serbo-Croatian. I assert it as a linguist. But if you aren't a linguist and/or you don't want local people to go after you with baseball bats, in Serbia you must say the language is Serbian, and in Croatia Croatian. Some national firebrands suggest that in Montenegro they speak Montenegrin. (What a black grin of destiny!) It's the same language, really. However, Serbs write in Cyrillic, while Croats and Montenegrins write in Latin.

The local currency is--you wouldn't believe it--euro. Some officials in the European Community decided to punish Serbs for being Serbs by leaving Serbia without the sea. They skillfully goaded Montenegrins into seeking independence from the union with Serbia. Although people on both sides feel like twin brothers separated at birth, Montenegrins feel proud to have euro as their national currency, all the more so because the neighboring Croatia has its own local currency no one knows or cares about.

The capital is Podgorica - Pod-GORE-itsa. There is some taste of gore in both, the name of the country and its capital, don't you think? It could be explained by their history, I suppose. Podgoritca literally means Under-mountain-itsa. We traveled all around the country. Every town and village their is a Podgoritsa, because it will inevitably and comfortably be located under a mountain.

Budapest is an English-friendly city

Luckily, Budapest is an English-friendly city. Whenever you stop on a street with a map in your hands, someone will ask you if you speak English and if he/she can help you.

This Hungarian friendliness is especially helpful in public transport. Before you use it, find out how you pay for the fare.

If you want to go by street car, buy a ticket in a booth. If you want to go by subway, make sure you know how far you go. If you meet an old friend or the love of your life, chat with him/her and get off at a wrong station, you may get into trouble. There are no barriers in the subway when you go in or out. You just get your ticket punched. God help you if you go further than planned and meet a ticket inspector. If I were you, I'd just walk!

I thought I knew traffic signs

I took my driving test in 1992. Since then no accidents -- touch wood! I somehow imagined I knew traffic signs. Until Budapest, that is. Here is a poser for you: what on earth do these traffic signs mean?

The first one (vertical photo) apparently says: No junk car shall be anchored, even upside down, especially those manufactured before WWII. Junk yard is a 100 meters upstream, if you can make it.

The lower one is even more forward-looking: No burning automobiles are welcome. Come to think of it, NO automobiles are welcome.

Budapest baths is a must

When in Budapest, get up early in the morning and go to the baths. They are just behind Square of Heroes, across the street from the Zoo. You can spend there a couple of hours or a whole day. It's a real treat! There are hot baths and cold baths, outdoor baths and indoor baths. Go there with your kids or alone, and you won't live to regret it.

I felt like a linguistic moron. Wouldn't you?

Citizens of the world, now I know what you feel like when you come to Russia. I felt exactly like that in Budapest. I felt like a linguistic moron. Wouldn't you? Anything that is written in Hungarian is non-intelligent, although it's written in Latin.

Subway/Metro is a mystery. You have to figure out how many stations you travel, buy a ticket, thrust it into an obscure slit in an obscure column at the entrance to a subway station, you get your ticket punched, and go inside. There are no mechanical or any other barriers. So, if you choose not to pay, it's all right unless your consciousness says otherwise.

If you change your mind and decide you want to get off at another station because you just met an old school friend and he/she talked you into having a cup of tea in his/her house, you'll either feel like a thief, or a ticket inspector will fine you. And it's not fine, if you ask me. In America, you can buy the cheapest ticket, travel to whichever subway station you choose and, when you finally decide to get off the train, the barriers will either let you out, or you'll have to pay the difference to the nearby machine and get out without any sense of guilt. In Budapest, when I used public transport I felt guilty until proven innocent when I got off.

BUDA and PEST

I feel guilty about not having written a line in the last months of 2008. So, let me wright more now. My guilt-writing today is about Budapest.

Unlike other consulates, the Hungarian Consulate in Yekat issues a Schengen visa without any fuss. They don't ask you hundreds of questions or interrogate you using a polygraph (lie detector), and you are not guilty until proven innocent. They want to make Hungary popular, and, given time, they are going to succeed. The Malev Airlines, by the way, is a good company. A few weeks ago, the US Consul General flew with them to London (and back).

The easiest way to get to Budapest is to use the airport taxi. It's not expensive, especially if you chip in. You pay for a 2-way trip, and you can use your return ticket at any time, a few days later if you choose, no problem!

BUDA is the mountainous part of the city, and PEST (pesht) is flat.

Happy New President, America!

Back in April, I wrote that Obama was the strongest candidate. It feels good to be right, in hindsight. Thanks to our good ties with the US Consulate General in Yekat, my students and I found ourselves at the shoulder of history twice -- at the Election Night (which was Election Morning here in Russia) and at the "inauguration party". Here are the photos.

My students granted interviews to the reporters of local tv- and radio-stations and felt very important. Who wouldn't?

All the guests of the Election Night voted, and my students helped count the ballots. Obama won a landslide victory at the premises of the US Consulate, too. No one was surprised. My only question to those who voted for McCain is: did you really want a person with the name Cain as your president?!

During the inauguratiom ceremony, some Americans had tears in their eyes. One Russian lady came up to me and said: "It's amazing how patriotic they are! Last time I felt equally patriotic was in the elementary school, when I was an Oktyabryonok!*

(*Note: My American friends, during the Soviet epoch there used to be Communists, Komsomoltsy or Komsomolers -- young communists, Pionery or Pioneers -- younger communists, and Oktyabryata or Oktyabryonoks -- youngest communists.)

Happy New President, America!

LOOKING BACK: I missed the THE article

HOMEWARD BOUND

A few years ago I realized the reason for heaving the THE article in English when speaking about THE doctor(‘s), and THE dentist(‘s), and THE cleaner(‘s), and THE baker(‘s), and the other - fill in the blank- __‘s people. Once, after I’d chatted with a saleswoman in a greengrocer’s kiosk/stand, I felt my bags were a little heavier than usual. I mean, I paid same money as usual for the same kilos of same fruits and veggies, but my bags were definitely heavier than usual. They – my bags – felt equally heavy since then. It was as simple as that: the saleswoman stopped cheating me!

And then the grammatical truth, pure and simple, dawned on me: THE – it’s when you become a frequent customer, a local VIP. THE – it’s when you leave well enough alone, and stop looking for new places, and do your shopping/cleaning/ mending your teeth at one and the same place!

So, back in Yekat I had – and still have - THE barber. Unlike Europe, America, Africa, Asia, or Australia, in Russia a man cannot easily find a man barber. They are as rare as Siberian saber-toothed tigers, and don’t ask me why. Your guess is as good as mine.

True, once I visited a man barber. It was in Turkey. He smiled at me happily and chatted with me all the time. However, we soon established the fact that he didn’t speak any other language but his mother tongue. For the first time in my life, I was real sorry I didn’t speak any Turkish.

He would talk to me inTurkish, and he would sing now and then, and I half-expected him to start belly-dancing. When I thought it was finally all over, he gestured me not to budge in my seat but wait. I watched him apprehensively in the mirror, as he was manipulating behind me with a metallic stick and piece of cotton. Then he lit cotton and moved to me, his smile still on his face. While I was in the agony of indecision about which language I should choose to call for help, he abruptly thrust the ball of fire right into my right ear. Before I could scream and cry havoc, he thrust the ball of fire right into my left ear! I was quick enough to realize that if I didn’t stop him then and there, he might burn out hairs in my nose next, and then… And then I stopped him. I stopped him, and thanked him, and paid him 3 dollars for the treat, and told him I would tell all my male friends to visit him.

My barber in Yekat is different. She is a woman. She doesn’t attempt to burn out hairs from either my ears or from any other parts of my body. We don’t chat. We keep silence about something very important. Once, an older friend told me: “Come to me and let’s have a cup of tea. Let’s not talk. Let’s keep silence, and let our souls talk”. So, we keep silence, my barber and I. I don’t start cracking any silly jokes or tell her compliments, because, first, sometimes silence is louder than words, and second, she always has a pair of sharp scissors in her hand.

Every time we smile, and exchange a few polite remarks before and after the hair job, and we part to meet same time next month. Now she is pregnant, but I’m not the one to be blamed for that. She’s on her maternity leave now…I had my hair cut a few days ago. Gosh! Customs officers and border-guards will probably have questions to ask me if I dare to leave the country with such a haircut! My barber, give a birth to a nice child and be back to work! My barber… THE barber. Now I realize how I missed the THE article in the US. Wouldn’t you miss it in another country?

Long live travelogs!

In the past few months since my last entry, my friends rebuked me. Some for not writing. Others for what I had written. Ok, my friends and others! I am back!

Lots of water has gone under the bridge since my last entry.

1. The wonderful Ava Smith visited Yekat. Now I know that this is a small world. The first entry of my travelog contained the picture of The Church-on-the-Blood. So, the travelog has made a kind of circle, circle of life.

2. I reflected on what I'd experienced in the US, and I'm going to share it with you. For example, do you know that the flushing techniques in Russian and American restrooms are different?! (Don't miss that!)

3. I visited Budapest, Hungary, and felt like a linguistic moron. (You can miss that.)

4. I visited Montenegro and Bulgaria. They call us "Russian brothers"... Or they used to call us brothers when they were getting Russian gas. No more now, I guess.

5. I visited Albania, of all countries. This is quite a story. Just to make your mouth water and your whole body constipate with jealosy, I'll tell you this -- my college has now a translation contract with Albania. We translate Albanian fairy tales!

6. Russia has celebrated 2 Christmases already, 1 New Year which lasted for about 10 days, and now Russians are preparing to celebrate another new year -- the Julian New Year, or the Old New Year as it is described here. We know how to celebrate life, uh?

Thank you, the wonderful trio !

I have finally caught up with my American adventures and reflections, some of them at least. Looking thru the pages of my "American notebook," I realize I have much more to say and to share. I'm going to do it. But right now I'm on the verge of leaving: Hungary and Montenegro are waiting down the road. From tomorrow on, it means new adventures. But today, before I hit the road, I must say thank you, Ms Ava Smith, Ms Tonija Navas (who by this time must have become a mother), and Ms Katie Irvin, for a nice trip. It's been very fulfilling. Thank you, the wonderful trio!

Why do African Americans love Russia?

I started to suspect it back in D.C. The suspicion grew in me throughout our trip, in Phoenix and Tucson, in Portland and New York, in Philadelphia, and now in Atlanta it blossomed into a realization of the truth, pure and simple: man, African Americans love Russia and Russians! Well, not all of them, perhaps. I mean, I didn't have a chance to speak to every one of them.

We were warmly welcomed in the African American community of Atlanta. After a while, our hosts showed us to the church hall. As we stood awkwardly in the hall during a religious service and people stared at us, I felt somewhat uncomfortable. But then our hosts interrupted the minister, apologized and said: "Brothers and sisters, these people are from Russia." In a moment the hall exploded! Some people started clapping, others were cheering, still others were stretching their hands for a handshake. It was both astonishing and very pleasing.

Here are a few quotations: 1) “We appreciated what the Soviet Union did for us. It was our friend and ally. Today Russia is our friend. It’s kind of hereditary”; 2) “The US used to fight for everybody’s rights. If you are such a champion of human rights and freedoms around the world, how about your own country?”; 3) “Our children don’t carry that baggage and that burden any more”; 4) “Will Obama become President? Who can tell? To move up, you sometimes have to move out. The question is: are Americans ready to accept all of its parts as a part of a whole?”; 5) “Obama energizes young people”; 6) “Sunday 11 a.m. is the most segregated time in America. Blacks go to their church, and whites go to their church, and Hispanics to theirs”; 7) “Bush wants Russia’s neighbors in NATO. What arrogance! What idiocy! They put Putin into a corner. And, of course, he says Russia will point their missiles at America. And what did they want? Obama, in my opinion, will bring more credibility and more thinking into policy.” [The summarized opinion of all I had seen or heard in America is this: if Obama becomes President, relationships with African, Asian countries and Russia may become warmer, given he can act on his own and not be told what to do. The way African Americans welcomed us in the South makes you believe they do remember what the USSR did for them.]

On the streets of Philadelphia

I liked the streets of Philadelphia. They are nice. I walked them "till my legs felt like stone."

And the parking lots! Walls of houses are painted, and when you park your car after a long working day you look at the picture, and feel something deep inside, something unfathomable, and bump into another car but don't mind it and think and think.

The Cradle of the American Revolution

Philadelphia is the "Cradle of the American Revolution." Everything breathes history here.

I finally received an answer to my long-time question: why is the Independence Day celebrated on July 4, and not July 2. The answer of our guide was: for no reason at all. It's a kind of historic mistake. The Declaration was voted for on July 2, and on July 4 saw just a few anendments. Then the text was carefully written by hand and rewritten because of mistakes and occasional smudges. The final version appeared a month later, in August.

Anyway, it was great to rub sleeves with the shadows of the Founders (Founding Fathers of the United States). Now I know why people in Philly all look quiet and strangely serene.

The Empire State Building and the Eiffel Tower compared

Next time you stop in Paris or New York, when night falls remember to go all the way up the Eiffel Tower / the Empire State Building. When you look down, you'll know why I coerced you to do it. If you regret it, I'll return you the money. (If you are drunk and therefore feel giddy, I won't.)

Let's compare the two famous landmarks. Out of reverence to the American taxpayers, I'll put the Empire State first.

Name

The Empire State Building: Its name is derived from the nickname for the state of New York. The Eiffel Tower: Named after its designer, engineer Gustave Eiffel.

Height
The Empire State Building: 381 m ( 1,250 feet) at the 102nd floor, and including the 62 m (203 ft) pinnacle, its full height reaches 443 m (1,453 ft ). It stood as the world's tallest building for more than forty years, from 1931 to 1972, and again since September 11, 2001.
The Eiffel Tower: Including the 24 m (79 ft) antenna, the structure is 325 m (1,063 ft) high, which is equivalent to about 81 levels in a conventional building. The tower is now the fifth-tallest structure in France and the tallest structure in Paris.

Time of creation
The Empire State Building: Excavation of the site began on January 22, 1930, and construction itself started symbolically on March 17, St.Patrick's Day. The ribbon was cut on May 1, 1931.
The Eiffel Tower: Eiffel originally planned to build the tower in Barcelona, for the Universal Exposition of 1888, but those responsible thought it was a strange and expensive construction, which did not fit into the design of the city. After the refusal, Eiffel submitted his draft to those responsible for the Universal Exhibition in Paris. The structure was built between 1887 and 1889. The tower was opened on May 6, 1889 and became the world's tallest tower.

Suicides
The Empire State Building: Over the years, more than thirty people have committed suicide from the top of the building. The first suicide occurred even before its completion, by a worker who had been laid off. The fence around the observatory terrace was put up in 1947 after five people tried to jump during a three-week span. In 1979, a woman jumped from the 86th floor, only to be blown back onto the 85th floor, and ended up with only a broken hip. The last suicide was by a lawyer who leapt from the 69th floor on Friday, April 13, 2007. [
The Eiffel Tower: According to the Société de la Tour Eiffel, there have been 369 suicide attempts and 349 successful suicides from the tower. The first suicide ocuured in 1898, when a man hanged himself from one of the beams. One suicider, a young woman, survived the 57 meter drop from the first floor, landing on the roof of a car. After recovering, the woman married the owner of the car.

One year, two Easters

As it happened, this spring I celebrated two Easters. The Orthodox Easter has just passed, on April 27. The Catholic-Protestant Easter occurred this year almost a month earlier, while we were in Arizona, on March 23.

I didn't see any celebrations in America. We went to the Grand Canyon that day. The only sign of Easter I saw was that fewer Native Americans were selling souvenirs on that day. The commercials advertized either "Easter sales" or "spring sales". No other noticeable signs of Easter.

In Russia, every Easter week we have an excursion to the Church on the Blood. Why that particular week? Because then people are allowed to ring the bells! The view from the Bell Tower is breathtaking. My students and our American and German friends put on earphones and pulled the strings of the bells. (Photo: Talitha, a 4-year old American girl.) A professional bell-ringer was there to help us enjoy ourselves and, if possible, to save the city from a terrible cacophony of sounds. He showed us what to do and how to do it and played the main tune. "The tuneful peal rang on" floated above the city for a whole week. What a joy for Christians! What a nuisance for non-believers and tourists who are sleepy or hung-over in the morning!

Two cultural scenarios

Is there any difference in how Russians and Americans behave in theaters and stadiums? I have a maniacal interest in how cultural scenarios vary from culture to culture.

1. A Broadway Show
Theaters in Russia run up to 15 or more different performances each month. So, you can go to the same theater every day of the week and see something new. In America, or in New York at least, one theater runs one and the same show every night. If you want to see something new, go next door, to another theater. (We enjoyed the musical Hair Spray, and now I remember it every time I wash my hair.) One show may run for months and even years. Well, really, why trade good for worse? Actors polish their acting and singing. People go to see their favorite shows again and again, and they know all the words by heart, and at the end they often stand up and sing along together with the actors.

And yet, I wonder how it feels when you go on stage for the 100th time and have a hunch this groundhog day will last for who knows how long? I must go online and look for statistics of suicides among Broadway show actors.

2. A Basketball Game
I wanted to see basketball March madness. It's a fancy term which means end of the season games of university basketball teams. That couldn't be arranged but our hosts from the Department of State kindly offered us a substitute: an NBA game between New York Knicks and Orlando Magic. The game itself was good. However, I expected cheering to be somewhere between 8.0 and 9.0, according to the Richter magnitude scale. Alas, that was not to be. Cheering was good and whole-hearted but our Russian fans cheer as cheerfully. Ok, the fact has been established and dutifully filed.

Now, here comes the dessert. The most curious thing about circuses, stadiums, and theaters in the two countries is how people get to their seats! In Russia, we say "excuse me", those already sitting usually stand up unsmilingly, and we squeeze to our seats facing them, with our backs to the stage. In America, people say "excuse me" and smile, those already sitting smile back and usually don't stand up, and Americans squeeze to our seats facing the stage, with their backs to the sitting (or standing) people. My American friends explain that the latter approach is more rational, because in this case people don't kick each others' knees. My Russian friends counter by saying that seeing a face is better than... eh... you know...