Russia - Distance and insignificance

Long night last night. My bed and I found each other around 6 in the morning, maybe sometime there after. I woke up after having smoked far too many gauloises thinking I had skinned a small kitten and then coated my teeth with it's hide. I was quite sober all night long.

This is going to be a bit of reverse and then forward making, I hope. The day before when talking back from the internet cafe I swung through Kaznaskay Cabor. The place is marvelously dark and gothic. Its very quiet in there and I like walking around th gorgeous marble floors looking at the antique icons while relishing the smell of beez wax candles burning and filling the place with that subtle aroma. I stoppe near the end of the nave. A man was walking around with a camera and a large lens (sigma, I noticed) he came up to me and in not so good english asked me if he could take pictures here. I recognized the accent and answered in Russian, better not, I don't see anyone else taking pics. St. Isaacs is more of a museum but Kazanskay seems to be a more austere kind of place where people go to pray. There is an icon that people wait in line to approach, touch and then pray at. We talked for a fwe minutes and I found out he was Israeli, originally from Russia. He asked what else there was to see to which i was floored, there's so much! His friend came over, he was from Israel, he spoke russian but so so, his name was Manish. He asked how long I was in town for and I told him 3 weeks and he said he would go mad there staying for three weeks and had a generally unpleasant disposition. He found everything distasteful then proceeded for giving me shit for never having been to Israel because I was a jew. Actually, I really didn't like him. He asked what I did and I told him that I was a student and worked in technology teaching part time, to which he told me that I would never have a life and get married as it paid nothing. I think he missed the bit about me working full time, but the pronouncements this man made.. OY VEY!

Saturday has been arranged: I'm going to see Madame Butterfly at the Marinsky Theatre, St. Pete's largest and most beautiful. I think its several hundred years old. Saturday is the premier. I didn't bring slacks but I have a nice shirt to wear, that should suffice. I'm thinknig of getting tickets for Tourindot later in the month. We'll see. There's a ton of ballet performances at the Marinsky but I'm not a dance fan as some of you know, but I'm quite fond of the Opera.

We have readings tonight at the Mayakovsky library. Stephen Elliot will be reading and Saskia Hamilton. I'm on shore leave till then, but time is running out. I had quite the late night making sure a splinter group of students made it home ok. We had a brief run in with the cops who wanted to see our papers. We presented them and got off with a warning to go home. I was ridiculously sober, had a couple beers on the boat and that was it. Monday nights are my night for "Notchnoy Dezhurstav" The night host or night watch, along with Katia who stayed at Fort Ross with the larger group. No one was relieved of any rubels or dollars. Our "spravkas" have come in from the University. These are temporary identification cards with offical seals which are quite helpful when dealing with the local sheriffs. They searched a couple people but seemed to be pleased with having me as an interpreter there, once again marvelling at my good accent. These guys though didn't make any kind of faces when i said where I was born or that we had emigrated out of the country, as the ones last year had. It was nice to pass through the situation so quickly and easily.

During my time at the Datch club which was openned by one of the two founding members of "Dva Samoleta"(Two Airplanes - the Pearl Jam of Russia). The club is tiny and they play everything from Funk to 80s and rockabily. Its a strange place. Datcha is a funny name too. It means summer house in russian, but it also has a conotation that means "my pad" or a place to get drunk that is owned. So one going to the datcha can expect to get sauched. Period. Beers are reasonably priced and people dance, if th eplace gets packed it spills out to the street. Strange bizarre place I tell you. Met a guy from Morishas there who had just finsihed his practicals to become a doctor. He's been living in St. Pete's for 7 years. He's dating the girl that now runs the joint.

I stood outside with Jeff Allen for quite some time discussing the parcitulas of Hendrix's death. He didn't have to die. Jimmy's girlfriend wouldn't call the cops because they had a ton of hash in the flat. The story goes, as Jeff just read a biography on Hendrix, she called Eric Bourdon who told her to call the ambulance. Instead she goes out and buys a pack of smokes and then pours red wine down his throat thinking it will help. What a needless death. He was flat broke by then. He had been scrweed by his lawyers to and fro. He died with less than 8 dollars in his account and his estate has been poorly managed ever since. Michael Jeffries his manager didn't help out either. In some ways he was like a child, all he really wanted to do was play and make music. He had no business saavy at all. I just caught an add as I logged out of MSN that Michale Jackson got off. I don't know if I should be sad that Hendrix died a needless death or MJ gets off, I don't know nor care if he's innocent or guilty. The verdict isn't a surprise and from this distance seems even more irrelevant because this city is lined with the bones of needless deaths.

I heard a lovely story. As we headed back to the Moyka canal last night on the boat we passed the rose colored Michaelivski Dvoretz (The Michael Castle). Its an unusual color, different from any of the other castles or palaces in St. Pete's. The story goes that Michael (prince?) had fallen for a woman who wore an exquisite rose colored dress and that they had met at a ball. She vanished leaving behind a single glove, never to be found again. He took the glove to his artisans and instructed them to paint his palace in that color so he could be reminded of her. Its a one of a kind.

And with that... adieu...