From Russia with Love

In November 2017, for the first time in my life I packed a suitcase full of warm and cozy winter clothes. The reason for this was a two-week stay in Russia, which I expected to be as cold as ice, snowy streets – simply all the stereotyped Russia from the media. I’ve never thought about going to Russia, but as my trip came closer I got more and more excited. Listening to Russian hip-hop on the plane, noticing everybody only speaking Russian around me, reading more and more Cyrillic letters on the signs of the airplane I finally started to realize, that I was only two and a half flight hours away from getting to know the real Russia – The homeland of my boyfriend Anton.
After the passport control, which was not as difficult as I expected it to be and following warm welcome hugs and a bunch of flowers I found myself in my first Russian experience. Traveling to Anton’s flat, we sat on the front seat of a minibus, which seemed to carry even more people than there were seats. While big neon signs with Cyrillic letters passed by, I leaned my head against Anton’s shoulder and let all the new impressions sink in.

Within the next 24 hours I had already been eating my first Blinis, drinking self-made liquor and went to a Russian supermarket to find out that I didn’t necessarily needed to import „Rittersport“ chocolate, as the shop even offered Alnatura products from our local German drugstores. Then the time had come to finally leave the flat and visit the center of Moscow. Entering the metro I understood for the first time why Anton always complained about the delays of the Berlin metro. Minute after minute new trains rolled into the station and so we took the next one to „Bibliotjeka imena Ljenina“, the station next to the library, that is named after Lenin. Like lots of other things in Russia. However – completely new to me was the fact that Lenin’s dead body is still kept in a mausoleum, nowhere else but in the middle of the Kremlin.
The Russian state library reached towards the skies to let everyone who passed by feel like a tiny, minor part of society. In front of the impressive building homeless people were lying on the ventilation shaft of the Moscow subway, to stay warm while the temperature dropped further towards evening. The noise of the streets was loud and everything looked so spacious – buildings,  streets and those various concrete surfaces in between. We sat down on the huge steps in front of the library to wait for Keuc, one of Anton’s muscovite’s friends. Some minutes later the three of us passed an undercrossing of the street to enter the Kremlin.

The Kremlin, the oldest part of Moscow’s old town was full of tourists. Most of them were busy taking photos of themselves. Some selfie’s in front of the festive decorated shopping mall „GUM“, some in the middle of the red square and most of them in front of the famous St. Basil’s cathedral. To be honest, that’s the building which was always on my mind when I thought about Moscow. And suddenly I found myself there for real, sipping some liquor from Keuc’s flask, which made the round every twenty minutes. Not only, because we were about to explore Moscow’s nightlife, but also to feel a little bit more cozy while strolling around. The Russian way of dealing with low temperatures, like the guys explained to me with a mischievously smile on both their faces.

At this point I have to make a little excursion to the department store „GUM“, which I in fact did not went to on this evening – obviously as I was with two men – but on another day, on my own. It was built in 1890 and was considered for a long time to be the biggest department store of Europe. Even if Christmas is due to religious reasons not so popular in Russia, the festive decoration was at its finest. I felt like a little child that would ask for some sweets or toys as soon when I entered the mall. The background music was jazzy and made me walk immediately with light-footedness. Half walking, half dancing I dived into the splendid Russian world of consumption. I starred at luxury goods in the shop windows, watched Russian woman wearing silky headscarves combined with heavy fur coats and sat down from time to time throwing back my head to have a look on the playful decoration in the hallways. Ransacking the food department I had to think about what Lenin would think, if he knew that his dead body was laying very close to a shopping-world with caviar in abundance.

But now back to the evening, when my first Russian drinking experience started. After my personalized tourist program we entered a bar on the other side of the river Moskva. I was glad to finally be in a warm room again, as with the walking closer to the water it became windier and I began to freeze. Even Keuc’s flask couldn’t help there anymore. The bar was decorated with colorful balloons and before I realized what was happening I already found myself in the middle of a girls group that told me how much they loved Berlin. This evening was going to be fun, I thought. Anton handed me my first beer however, I did not say „Na zdorovie“ as everyone may have expected me to say at this point. Because that was my first Russian lesson „Nobody uses the phrase „Na zdorovie!“ for drinking, Annelie!“ So I just smiled and drank my beer in silence.

Looking back, this evening was like a gentle introduction to what it meant for me to drink with Russians. A band was playing, I got to know some of Anton’s friends and we had a really funny way back home. Anton, Keuc and me shared an Uber, which turned out to be super cheap in Russia and then went the last part of the way by foot. So we staggered all three through the empty streets of the neighborhood Babuschinskaja’s, stopped at a little supermarket to buy some more vodka and finally at home sat down in the kitchen. With some White Russians and snacks Anton’s dad provided, we spent there some more hours of real Russian quality time: sitting together in the kitchen, eating all reserved food there is and talking about life. Preferably with lots of proverbs. At least that’s what I was thinking…

My lessons concerning that I should have listen to my father’s words „Annelie, don’t drink too much!“ I had already learned the evening before we went to spend a traditional evening at Keuc place. Waking up from a party obviously not taking the warning for serious, Anton’s dad taught me this lesson the Russian way. Thus, me, willing to die, had to drink Rassol, the salty herbal water out of a big jar full with pickled tomatoes. When I remember this moment I still have to laugh. Sitting there totally hung-over and casually drinking out of a preserving jar with three Russian men standing around me with looks of expectancy on their faces. But I have to admit, it is not the worst thing to do in situations like these. At least I was back to fit for our planned „Vodka Night“ already a few hours later.

1. Vodka (the Russian one which tastes not good enough to drink it without food)
2. Pickled gerkhins (if you thought you already ate salty cucumbers, you’ve probably never tasted the Russian ones)
3. Potatoes (the faible of the Russian’s for potatoes made me wonder why exactly my fellows are called „Deutsche Kartoffeln“)
4. Canned fish and dried fish (latter sounds disgusting, but it’s actually pretty great)
5. Dark bread (another thing the German’s and Russian’s have in common)
6. Good friends or those who would like to become such (on evenings like this there are lots of sentimental vibes in the air, the serious russian face expression relaxes and one just feels like on the coziest place on earth)

Only a week ago we sat together in a tattoo studio in Berlin, talking about the interesting story of the „Cathedral of Christ the Savior“ as one costumer decided to tattoo it on his upper arm. I remembered what Anton told me about this church when we were strolling around that area in Moscow. In times of the Soviet Union they removed the church from 1883 and replaced it with the largest outdoor swimming pool of the USSR.  It was measuring twice the size of a soccer field and was very popular in past times. Means the church that one can visit nowadays is nothing less than a replication. But still a very impressive one – with its golden cupolas and huge statues. I remember walking around that cathedral in November and how ice-cold the wind was blowing into my face. With my scarf pulled up like a bank robber I photographed the church from different angles until it became too cold and I went to see it from the inside. Full of gold and detailed religious drawings I was able to spend some time and also watch orthodox Russian’s saying their prayers. When I felt warm again I left this holy place through the security gate, which I didn’t even notice anymore since one has to pass them by entering every metro station of Moscow.

Besides Moscow I also had St. Petersburg on my bucket list for this trip. So we spontaneously booked a train together with Sasha and Danila, a befriended couple to visit the Russian city at the Baltic Sea for some days. For this short trip Anton chose the „real Russian travel experience“ especially for the spoiled German girl: train tickets for an overnight wagon called Platzkart. When we entered the train all three of my travelling companions looked at my face expression eagerly. My mouth formed to an „Ohh…whaaat?“ when I saw the tiny bed surfaces on the walls. The train was full of people, while walking through the narrow corridor one had to evade naked feet hanging out of the beds, people were snoring, babies were screaming and all the time there was this hot, sticky smell in the air. A small woman, the train conductor provided us all bed sheets and a little white towel. Sasha helped me with some skillful hand movements to made my bed and then after visiting the outdated toilet we all laid down to spend the next 9 hours sleeping. As it was already midnight all people around us simultaneously did the same and so it began to get quiet again after the little unrest while the stop in Moscow. Anton reached his hand out for mine and said: „Enjoy your first night on a platzkart, sweet.“ and with these words I quickly felt asleep. I woke up, when it began to get lighter outside again and I could see snowy little villages rolling by. I turned around and saw the other passengers for the first time in the day light – from mothers with little children over boy groups up to old grannies with walking sticks – everybody dressed preferably comfortable as most of them spend up to a few days on this train. My gaze got caught by some jogging pants which were stucked into white socks which again were stucked in flip-flops and I had to smile: I really just spend the night on a train through Russia. Who would ever have thought so?

My first impressions of St. Petersburg were, that it came more close to European cities. Old buildings with lot of stucco were lined along the dirty, noisy streets. The first place we visited to have breakfast was a multi-storey former factory, which now was converted into a place for hipsters, young fashion-labels and artists. On the way to our Airbnb we crossed rivers and passed lovely cafés. At all it reminded me of Venice with all the little bridges and tightly built-up streets. The only thing that made a huge difference to the colorful city of Italy was the dust shrouding  St. Petersburg. All colors were hidden under greyish fog. Especially the expensive sport cars covered in dust stayed in my mind. Maybe November was not the best time for a visit, because other than that, with all its cultural offerings it seemed to be pretty lively there. So it was a good idea to spend one day between amazing paintings of Matisse and lot of golden ornamented interior in the Hermitage Museum. Masha, a friend of Anton worked at this impressive art-palace and gave us a free tour. In the end even one day was not enough to see all of it, but we could say, we did our best.

The rest of our time we spent walking around the old town, eating Bortsch and Pelmeni and visiting some more local friends of the boys. As most of them were graffiti-writers, likewise their flat was full of painted canvasses and spray cans in every color were stacked right up to the ceiling. Equipped with black eddings and a bottle of rum we started our night with a walk to the center, to spend some time in several bars. The last one offered fancy shots and so we got deeper into talks round after round. But this time I tried to remind my father’s warning. On our way back, when the boys started tagging I learned that this was the reason for all the facades being painted in different colors. So if you see multiple colored houses in St. Petersburg – that’s no style element, but a lazy way to paint over graffiti while don’t bother about choosing the exact same color of the particular building.

What I really liked about Moscow was that there are so many different places. One day you can walk through the old town full of historical buildings, another day you can visit a sleek business center with skyscrapers. When I went off at „Mezhdunarodnaya“ metro station it took me only a few steps until being fully impressed by the shiny glass facades surrounding me. At the entrances men in neutral colored suits and women in pencil skirts were smoking their cigarettes fast, as the wind blew ice-cold through the row of building complexes. So even me wearing hat, gloves and my scarf pulled up right under my eyes, began to shiver soon.  That’s why my time in the „Moscow City“ was a mix of visiting the shopping mall, getting warm at Starbucks as well as filling my stomach with Russian food at Teremok and shooting interesting angles of the modern architecture until my hands turned red again. Teremok by the way can be seen as the Russian Mc Donald’s – instead of burgers they offer different stuffed blinis and instead of coke they serve mors, which comes close to liquid compote. While all the Russians may despise to eat Bortsch somewhere else than at your own mother’s place I really enjoyed it there after my walk through the windy streets in between the skyscrapers.

After spending half of the day in the Moscow Zoo, we went to the district Arbat. It’s one of the oldest parts of Moscow and offers a lot of historical buildings, for example also the former home of Alexander Pushkin. While I am writing down his name I’m surprised I haven’t mentioned him earlier. Because if you plan to visit Russia one day you’ll get that Pushkin seems to be everywhere – the Russians love to speak about him, quote his poems or as my boyfriend just did: tattoo his face on his leg. But back to our walk through the Arbat street. As it is so old and historic, it’s also very touristic and seduced me to buy lots of little Matryoshka’s for my girls at home in one of the innumerable souvenir shops. Besides the popular nesting dolls, one can also buy Gzhel, the traditional white-blue porcelain and of course Putin’s face in different variants: on a T-Shirt, fridge-magnets, coffee-cups… I started to imagine, how it would be if our shops would offer the same political merchandising and Angela Merkel would sadly watch me from a magnet on my fridge every day.
Anton interrupted my thoughts by pointing at a colorful scribbled wall which opened up in our field of vision. „That’s the memory wall of Viktor Tsoy!„ After he noticed the big question mark on my face he continued: „He was our Russian Kurt Cobain. A guy with Korean roots, who was not only a rock star but also an actor. He died young, but people still admire him.“ At this time I didn’t yet know that we would listen to one of his vinyl records, which we would find in a vintage store in Bonn, already 2 months later in Germany.

Since using the term „Bolschoi Theatre“ several times,  the day had come where I understood for the first time in my life, that the theatre’s name literally means „Big Theatre“. While exchanging my new learned word „Malinki“ (engl.: small) with Anton’s mum – she pointed on the theatre and said „Bolschoi“. Something clicked in my head and I was feeling excited about this new discovery. Maybe a bit ridiculous, but that’s learning a language from real-life situations.

From the accessible roof of the „Central Children’s Store“ one has a perfect view over the city. All three licking on some ice cream Anton’s mum bought for us, we watched the lights of the city illuminating the dark sky. We could discover the Kremlin with the St. Basil’s Cathedral and some more places where we already have been. Since it became too cold again, we decided to die away the day in a small café nearby and afterwards said „Goodbye“ in one of Moscow’s beautiful metro stations. Already on my first day I understood why Anton seemed to be disappointed in our Berlin metro stations – they are nothing comparing to Moscow’s huge, ornamented Stations. Most of them have mosaics which are telling some stories from Russia’s history, in particular about the USSR times. Also exciting for me were the long escalators that seemed to never end. Especially when it is rush hour, there even is more life in a Moscow metro station than in some small villages. As Russia’s capital is very huge, people have to spend long distances on the metro to get from one point to another. While in Berlin you can always count half an hour for your way, you have to at least calculate an hour here. But with the free Wi-Fi, books or knitting needles everybody keeps quiet and doesn’t complain.

…and we did as the Scorpions once sang. Except following the Moskva, but at least we went by Uber to Gorky Park. Wearing each two pair of socks, on which Anton insisted, we were ready for ice-skating on Moscow’s famous ice rink. It was already dark outside and light chains in the big old trees illuminated our way through the park. The park entrance with its huge sandstone gate already impressed me, but with the ice-skating this evening became even better. While I watched out not to fall at the beginning I became more and more confident the more rounds we did. With electronical music in the background, light effects as some eye candy and continuously holding hands the time passed by quickly.

On the last day we met Anton’s dad in a Belgian restaurant with a a wide beer-selection. While they were talking on Russian I drew up a summary on my mind:

1. Russia is not as cold in wintertime as I had always thought.
2. Nowadays you can also travel Moscow without knowing the language, as the metro signs are translated in English.
3. Vodka is mostly drunken with food and to celebrate being together, not for getting drunk.
4. Pushkin seems to be everywhere!
5. The water of preserving jars can save you from a hangover.
6. Russian proverbs are close to german proverbs, but more often in use.
7. There is enough „Rittersport“ chocolate in Russia.
8. The serious russian face expression shouldn’t frighten one – it will light up after spending some time together.
9. You can never drink enough tea!
10. Before a journey you need to sit down with your companions and those you leave at home – that should bring you luck!

And so we did in the morning before my flight back. Russia, it was nice getting to know you, I’ll be back. (but next time without „Rittersport“ in my luggage)