As I mentioned earlier, this is one of the many, many such buildings Kruschev erected in an effort to make sure everyone had a decent place to live. They're ugly. They're showing their age. But they are archetypically Moscow.
This is across the street from where I live. I see it out my windows.
This statue is on the property of the World Trade Center. There are a number of shops and services in there, very handy for the likes of me.
Now. On with the evening.
One of Marius' friends here is a girl named Sophie. Her grandfather was the Soviet Foreign Minister during the Gorbachev years and was later president of Georgia. I won't name names but it begins with a 'Shevar' and ends with a 'dnaze.' In any case, Sophie is an anchor on the English language station "Russia Today" -- although she admits to adopting something of an English accent when reading the news.
In any case, being from Georgia, nothing makes her happier than when friends are enjoying Georgian hospitality and their remarkable food. So tonight, Marius and I joined her and a gaggle of her friends at a restaurant near the Old Arbot in central Moscow. And quite frankly, the food was mindblowing. The cheeses were staggering. And then there are the toasts.
Toasts are the epitome of Georgian gatherings. The longer the better. But they're quite beautiful, usually about friends or the preciousness of life and laughter with friends or the treasure of friendship. You get the idea. But one toast must remember and celebrate the departed family and friends who are not with us. There is a Georgian saying that the wine we drink in happiness and friendship fills a river that runs to Heaven for those who await us. Lovely, don't you think?
After the meal, we headed to a place called 'Pavillion.'
Pavillion is one of those places that seems Russian in the way you always imagined Russia before you get here. It sits on an icy pond around which is a periphery park surrounded by some of the most expensive residential real estate in the country. And yet at the same time it could be Gramercy Park. Perhaps this is why I feel so at home here -- it reminds me of New York.
Inside, is a creamy, candle-lit room, modern enough to feel contemporary, relaxed enough to feel warm, with a view out at the frozen pond.
We had desert, talked, laughed some more. It's what you hope for when you go far away -- to feel connected to people whose cultural experiences are so radically different. It's comforting to know we're all the same.
A wonderful, quiet place to be with friends, others in the place were clearly of a more privileged stripe.
Two beautiful girls came in with a Kremlin-sized bodyguard. They took a place in the corner and puffed on hookahs. The faint aroma of strawberry filled the room. Which brings me to an aside; Moscow is a 2nd hand smoke nightmare. All the smoking I have not done for the past four decades may be reversed by the time I finally leave. (cough)
Soon it was just Sophie, Marius and I. Sophie lives just around the corner from Pavillion but she has just bought a new place down the street and is in the process of remodeling. Determined to show us her baby-in-the-works, she led us down quiet, slushy streets to a ninety year-old building. We took the lift to the eighth floor and Sophie unlocked the door to the apartment.
Inside was a shambles. But the remodeling kind of shambles where walls are torn out and framing is going on and plastic sheeting hangs from exposed ceiling joists. And yet something wasn't quite right. There were things in the kitchen that felt, well, recently used. And tea cups sat on an upended box. Suddenly there was movement behind a darkened sheet of translucent plastic and we spin -- there's someone here, stirring on a cot.
It turns out that a couple of the workers are sleeping here. Which is not uncommon but was, in this particular case, a wee bit startling. Without a word, we beat a hasty retreat and Sophie collapsed on the stairs in laughter.
Then we crowded into the lift and Sophie collapsed in more paroxysms of laughter.
We said goodnight to Sophie at her door then Marius and I walked the empty streets to the 'Big Ring', one of the main roads that circles Moscow. For three hundred Roubles the cab driver first dropped off Marius at Polovrskaya then me at Mantylyskaya.
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