Kvartira

Alright, you vultures. You've been asking. Now you're gonna get it.

Below you will find a short video. It is a brief tour of my apartment here in Moscow. In it you will notice numbers that flash on the screen every now and then. These numbers indicate sections below where further details can be found about the specific area being seen in the video. I would encourage you to watch the video then continue your explorations below -- the Management






For weeks I wondered what to do with the trash. Then, one day, the building's owner and a plumber were in my apartment fixing a small water leak in the WC. We were chatting pleasantly when I happened to remember that I had American made trash piling up in my place. The owner was good enough to demonstrate the proper technique for stuffing garbage into the hopper seen above. Now I'm trashless.


Right next to my front door, inside the vestibule, is my gas meter. As you can see, I'm drinking it down, baby!

Actually, I can't tell what I'm using. I don't pay for it! Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha...!


This is the view out the peep hole from just inside the inner vestibule. I never look out of it before venturing into the stairwell. I probably should. You never know when counter-revolutionaries might be lying in wait.




As I mentioned in the video tour, I frequently watch Turner Classic Movies. It is the very same TCM available in the States. But that's not all I have to watch in English. Just last night I was watching LATE NIGHT with CONAN O'BRIEN. What did I say in the very first posting of this blog? It's like I never left.


That oddly-painted built-in against the living room's far wall is not built in at all. It's a good thing there's never any seismic activity in Moscow. Cause I'd hate to be near this Cabinet of Death in the event of a shaker.


When I first got here there were no lamps. All one had for night-time lighting were these horrific overheads. And you know I simply can't live with light that comes down at you from above. Light should come from the side. Even the sun. I asked for lamps and this is what they came up with. One of the lights is on a flexible antennae, and I swivel it around to bounce it off the creamy pink walls.




The pillows here are square. I've been asking people why this is and rather than proffer an answer, instead they look at me with dismay. Look, I'm the least ethnocentric person there is. I don't assume any one way is better than another. But you don't have to believe deeply in our superior American pillows to understand why we are clearly years ahead in bed-based head support.

Ask yourself, how much of the pillow do you actually use? Most people get a bit of their neck on the pillow as well, so you can say that you only need a head-height and bit more of effective pillow real estate. Our rectangular American pillows understand this and proportion themselves accordingly. But your basic Commie pillow has a great deal of wasted territory, forcing you further down on the bed. In my particular case, this authoritarian nudge leaves my feet dangling off the bottom. Right where Ivan wants my ten little capitalist piggies.

I have it on excellent authority that the square pillow was first used in the days following the Bolshevik revolution, when several families had to share not just an apartment but a bed as well. People would arrange themselves around the pillow like spokes around the hub of a wheel. Well executed, a single square pillow could provide nighttime head-rest for a family of nineteen.


I keep this vacuum in my room but I haven't used it yet.


This is what it looks like lying in bed and looking up at the TV. It's actually quite uncomfortable. So I don't use it. Besides, as I mentioned in the video tour, there's no cable box in here so this TV only gets Russian language channels. Which is fine. But I don't watch it. Anyway, I tried on the first night I was here and it just made me feel like I was in a hospital.




This is the basic kit I keep in the bathroom. I keep it pretty streamlined. There's very little counter space to speak of. Actually there's no counter space to speak of.


Right now I'm using Pantene shampoo and conditioner in one. I hate it. Makes my hair seem oily and without bounce. Plus, there's no lustre. A man needs lustre. It's very frustrating. I can hardly wait to run out.




This is an average batch of dishes once done.


This is the dish-washing detergent that I use.


The stove is small but at least it's gas. The burners can't actually light on their own. Instead, they supply this little spark maker that you have to hold up to the burner. You pull the trigger until the spark ignites the gas. The black grills on which you set the pots and/or pans taper off too close to the center of the burner so an errant nudge can result in the toppling of a cook thing.


Anyone who has ever lived in Europe for an extended or semi-extended amount of time is probably well acquainted with these babies. They're supposed to be clothes washing machines. But they're really just Moist Tumblers. And tha's being charitable.

You stuff the clothes in, put some detergent in the tray, and turn it on. A complete cycle takes a couple of hours. But God only knows what's going on in there for all that time. It puts about a cup of water in the chamber then rocks back and forth for a while. Then the water goes away and the drum slowly spins. This goes on for about an hour. Then it jumps into a spin cycle which it attacks with zeal. And it plays with you. Because it'll stop spinning. And all will be quiet for ten minutes or so. So you're convinced it's finished. But then, just as you're reaching for the door -- zzzzzzzzzziiiiiyyyy!!!!! -- the thing takes off for another 20 minutes of dry spinning.




I keep a little bowl for change. You can see the low-denomination coins. They're all but worthless. The proverbial stick of Russian chewing gum can not be bought with change. So I'll save it up and maybe give it to one of the gaggle of beggar children you find following you outside the movie theaters.


While the building dates back to the Kruschev years, it has all the modern amenities one might expect from a building of a much younger construction. The video phone works great. Whether someone is buzzing you from outside the building or just outside the vestibule, you get both images. Of course, well, no one ever comes to visit so I haven't actually seen this work. But I'm told it does!


As you've seen, the refrigerator is in the foyer. Inside the refrigerator is a spare but effective collection of essentials. Eggs. Milk. Cheeses. Meats. Frozen lasagna. Juice. Fruit. And...


Any Moscovites wanting some strawberry yogurt are shit out of luck. I got it all.