VDNKh Park

The former Exhibition of Economic Achievements of the USSR (VDNKh) is now the All-Russian Exhibition Centre.  The park has had various purposes throughout history.  Begun in 1939 is was used as a major agricultural exhibition.  Twenty years later it was chanted to a vast park to show off the nation's achievements in economics, science and technology.  After the Soviet Union collapsed in 1991, the grounds and pavilions became private businesses.  Many of the exhibit halls are still used as retail showrooms, yet the complex is only a shadow of what it used to be.

Damon and I took the metro on Memorial Day to search out some memorabilia left over from the Soviet days.  We spent a few hours slowly wandering the park and gazing at the monuments.  They are all quiet impressive and speak of an ideal that never quiet worked out.  

A portion of the park is an amusement park complete with a midway, small roller coasters and a large, rather rickety looking ferris wheel.

Space Obelisk
built (1964) 3 years after Yuriy Gagarin became the first man in space 

Main entrance
tractor driver and woman collective farmer

the Russian way to water the lawn.  This truck drove around and around and around to water the grass!

Massive monument to Lenin

Beautiful fountain made of gold mosaic.
People are encouraged to swim!

This is what we came to see!  It was a bit of a hike once we spotted it but well worth the extra walking.  The statue Worker and Woman Collective Farm Worker is made of stainless steel.  Vera Mukhina created this for the Paris Exhibition in 1937 to symbolize the glory and power of the Soviet Union.  With the hammer and sickle raised far above the man and woman's heads, they scream Soviet to the viewing world.  This symbol was chosen to be used on posters for "Mosfilm", one of the most well known Russian movie studios, making it famous throughout the world.  This statue represents a main Soviet ideal where the government owned all the land and the people did all the work.  As soon as Damon saw the statue in the distance he exclaimed "I've seen that symbol before!  It's very famous."
A few nights later we happened to be out driving at night - stuck in slowly moving traffic.  I had a chance to look around and noticed that we were on the highway that goes right past this park.  Each monument was lit-up and looked stunning.     

Galereika

If you know me, you know I love Polish pottery! Polish potter is pretty common here in Moscow, but there only seem to be about three basic patterns.  I was delighted when a friend shared this little boutique gift shop that carries a large amount of high-end Polish pottery.  It was a bit of a challenge to find, but well worth the effort.  They also carry some adorable stuffed animals that make excellent baby gifts.    galereika.ru
Here are directions my friend sent me.  I think they are priceless and give you a glimpse at the treasure hunt we are often on here in Moscow!
"it is located at Kuznesky Most 21/5.  I took the Kuznesky most metro and then went right out of it and up the street.  You will come to an end and see a starbucks on the perpendicular street.  go around the starbucks and then there is a random circle with a statue.  it is to the right of the statue.  Only in Moscow does a street continue on a different street and have a statue.  Anywhere else these directions would not make sense :)"

Folk Dance

 Russia is known for having exquisite dance performances.  I'd been dying to see one so I carefully selected a folk dance show.  I've seen the Russian Ballet perform the Nutcracker back home, so maybe that is why a different type of dance appealed to me or maybe it was because folk dance tells the stories of the everyday people.

 Many regions of Europe and Asia were highlighted.  The footwork was amazing and the costumes were delightful.  As I watched I thought about how much of folk dancing is done in a community to celebrate life.  They did it at village gatherings and weddings.  So many of the dances were filled with joy and fun.

 Other dances told stories.  History is preserved in this unique form that is passed on from generation to generation.

The best story of the evening for me though, had nothing to do with the dancing but rather with a particular woman we met.  When we came into the performance center we were a bit disoriented with all the shows going on, coat check and where to go.  A batty little old woman approached my husband and asked if he had an extra ticket.  We actually did have an extra ticket with us as one person in our party cancelled at the last minute.  She was probably a bit surprised when he handed it to her.  I'm assuming she comes every performance and tries to get a free ticket.  She shuffled off and disappeared around the corner.  We hustled in forgetting about her as we figured she had walked outside the theater to sell the ticket.  Halfway through the first dance the bent-over woman made her way up the stairs.  Transformed she was now wearing  an old knit dress and some bright orange beads that matched her bright orange, thinning hair.  She carefully carried her pocketbook with one hand as she gripped the railing with the other.  She settled in next to Chad and gave him a big smile as if he were her prince charming.  Throughout the show she proceeded to chatter very loudly to Chad in a mixture of English and Russian.  She was a true lover of the arts.  She enjoyed the performance and my gracious husband gave her all the attention she craved.

Victory Day

Victory Day was a great thing to experience here in Moscow.  Think Memorial Day, Veteran's Day and Fourth of July all wrapped up into one grand holiday.  May 9 marks the day Nazi Germany surrendered to The Soviet Union in the Second World War.

For the girls and me the celebrations began on Monday at school.  A choir of Veterans and another of war widows came to the school to perform.  Although feeble in body, they sang strong the old war songs.  They were proud of their country and the service they had given.

Celebrations start on May 9 with the Victory Day Parade.  This is where Russia displays her military power for the world to see - or at least those of us in Moscow.  This was different than any other parade I have ever watched.  People quietly lined the empty street.  Three police cars led the processions of a kazillion military vehicles.  There were no crowds cheering, clowns throwing candy or fire engines blaring their sirens.  It was silent.  The military men did not smile from their tanks or wave little Russian flags.  They manned their weapons and stared stoically ahead.  The earth rumbled as the tanks drove past worrying me a bit that the old crumbling US consulate building behind me would collapse.  It was a sobering parade yet well worth watching. 

Machine Guns

Big Machine Guns

Tank Guns

A Bigger Tank Gun

Fighter Planes that I bet had guns in them.

Missiles

Lots of big missiles and more fighter planes.

Red, White and Blue smoke - cool.

Scary looking missiles

I don't want to think of the damage these babies can do.

Truck after truck of bombs.

Not sure how they launch it, or for that matter get it off the truck.

This one didn't even fit in the picture.

In keeping with the normal daily duties, a line of street cleaners (33 to be exact) filed out after the last bombs with their sprayers going to wash all the "filth" away.

Throughout the afternoon people give veterans flowers in Gorky Park and Victory Park.  I have heard that the entire family must accompany the veteran just to carry the armloads of flowers they receive throughout the day.

In the evening we headed over to Victory Park to watch the fireworks.  The kids and I agreed that it was the best display we have ever seen.  Only America fires off one firework then waits while everyone ooohs and aaahs before shooting off another one.  Here they shot off twenty then before the twinkles were gone from the sky, twenty more were bursting in the dark.  Suddenly a shot, no a boom reverberated through the air, stopping my heart and shaking my clothes.  Eighteen canons were lined up on the hill behind us and every 30-60 seconds, another went off.  It was quite spectacular.  A good day and I am looking forward to next year when I plan on getting close to Red Square and having a glimpse of the 10,000 soldiers in formation.

Fortunately this was not a typical Russian Day

Maybe it was the weather here in Moscow that caused the crazy to come out in everyone today.  There seemed to be a front of some sort coming through. Overcast and a bit windy it brought a chill to the atmosphere that was not welcomed or friendly. For me it brought out the laughter.  I had four distinct encounters within four hours that gave me a glimpse of the stereotypes I often hear about but rarely encounter here in Russia. 

Elena and I were walking to take the metro to soccer practice. The busy street we had to cross always has a long red light with no pedestrian signal counting down the seconds.  Typically I shift from foot to foot wondering if the light will every change and I will get to cross.  Today an old, fat, wrinkled babushka with a cane stood a few people over.  Wisps of stringy, grey hair whipped wildly in the wind free from the traditional scarf she had tied around her head.  She quickly became agitated and impatient.  Waving her can wildly at the light she began to yell. Next to me a woman with a horrified look on her face was trying desperately to ignore the situation. The babushka made several attempts to step out into the heavy traffic each time ending with another tirade.  "I do not understand, I do not understand" was all I could pick out from the little bit of Russian I know. At one point I actually leaned over and put my hand in front of the babushka stopping her from stepping forward. This only quieted her down for a moment before she began her rant again. And then I saw it.  In slow motion the babushka leaned back, her face full of vengeance for the traffic that has taken over this city, made a horrid guttural sound then thrust her face forward. A wad of spit and phlegm flew from her lips.  The wad spun through the air, little spitletts separating from the whole as it rotated around before landing on the side of a bus. I couldn't contain myself any longer.  As I doubled over in laughter the light turned and the little old babushka was lost in the sea of people.

Soccer practice was almost over when yelling caused me to turn and see what the ruckus was all about.  Clearly drunk, a man, yelling to no one in particular between swigs from his bottle, sat at the end of the stands. In one fluid motion that he had obviously practiced profusely to the point of perfection, he tipped the bottle back, took one last drink and tossed the it high above his head and over the fence behind him.  Stumbling off the bleachers he sauntered onto the field. Fortunately this man was a happy drunk as he walked around passing out hugs to any willing player.  

Back on the metro it was crowded with evening passengers.  Fortunate enough to find a seat I sat shoulder to shoulder with my fellow travelers. To my right sat a tall, slender man with salt and pepper hair.  Like Ichabod Crane his nose was unusually long and bony.  He turned and looked at me.  No, it was more than a look it was a stare. There was no room for him to lean back for this long stare so every bump or rattle of the train swerved me dangerously close to having my cheek pierced with his weapon of a nose. I began to notice that every time I turned to look at him he quickly turned his head forward and looked at me in the window facing us.  Just as I would look forward again our eyes would lock I the glass before he turned his head to a ninety degree angle to stare once again.   This situation lasted for a full twenty minutes as I sat there staring forward frozen in my seat with no place to escape due to the crowded train.  I about collapsed in relief when we got to our stop and I could flee the car. 

Personal cars cannot be parked on the compound where we live. Because of construction we have to park them at a hotel which is a royal pain in the butt. I had left my car on the compound after picking up Maddie at 2:00 in the morning from a school trip. My plan was to move the car in the evening when traffic lightened up and I had a bit more time. Of course I was busted with my illegal parking before I could sneak the car away. So after the soccer practice and cramming my dinner in I got in my car to leave the compound.  I drove through the security gates and waited in the driveway to turn onto the street. Traffic had not let up for the day so I sat and waited, and waited. There are Russian "security" guards who stand just outside the wall that keeps us in, hidden from the world outside. We have no obligation to them.  Their sole purpose seems to be to watch us go in and out and harass us a bit from time to time. So as I sat there waiting two guards walked up and stood on each side of the car looking at me.  I don't know what it was today, maybe I was looking particularly dashing but I was getting rather tired of being stared at.  The guard to my left stood at ease about two feet back.  He looked at me then looked at the car then back to me.  However, the guard to my right stepped so close that I swear his nose was smashed on the window. As he stood there peering my mind began to run away from me. 

"Are the doors locked?"

"Crap, no.  I need to figure out how to have them automatically lock when I shift into drive."

"Should l lock the doors?"

"No, I can't move a muscle right now.  Just look forward."

"I bet I could reach my phone and take a picture of him.  Better yet I could move really fast, lean back and do a selfie with him peering in. That would be hilarious, but bad idea.  Just stare forward."

"I could roll the window down and have a conversation in the ten Russian words I know but I'm sure that will leave a streak of snot on the glass."

"Thank goodness the traffic just cleared and I can get away!  Thirty more minutes of Russia to survive today before I am tucked away in my home for the night!"

Restaurant Armenia

It's been cold in Moscow and the forecast showed rain.  My friend and I ditched our plans for a day out of the city and decided to visit several shops we've been wanting to see.  Late morning the skies were looking a bit grey and frankly it was simply time for a coffee.  She knew of a great little Armenian restaurant and suggested we stop in to warm up.  

It was delightful!  An elegantly carved wood booth with leather upholstery and large pillows was a perfect place to get warm and cozy while looking at the sleet on the other side of the big window.  We ordered several varieties of baklava to try.  A tall, willowy older gentleman with salt and pepper hair and a kind face was seated at the next table.  When our delights arrived I asked the waiter to take a picture of us.  Much to my surprise the man suddenly jumped up and photobombed our picture!  I looked at him in surprise, and with a twinkle in his eye, he smiled and gave a nod.  I threw my head back in laughter.  We enjoyed our baklava and warm drinks then suddenly our mystery man appeared offering us each a small wrapped box.  Inside was a dark chocolate candy.  How did he know my weakness?  

Joyful, fun, generous.  This is who the people of Russia are.