Moscow Airport, and Home — Nov 18-19

We arrived at the airport around 6am. It was about six hours before our flight departed. Vladimir escorted us through the first security entrance and told us not to go through the next security until after 9am. He suggested that we hang out at the TGI Friday’s in the terminal. After wandering around for a while, we camp at the restaurant, have a meal and wait.

Security was a little confusing at first, but we passed through with minimal effort. All checked luggage was searched. They pulled things out and rummaged through others. It was easy to push everything back in place and move on. Next our luggage was checked in with the agent, boarding passes were issued, and we took our turn through passport control (surrendering our migration cards) and then on into the extensive duty-free shopping area just outside the gates. There was one more security screening to navigate at the actual gate, but since there were no shops, restrooms or drinking fountains past that point (you can’t even have bottled water), we decided to jam into the seating outside the gate and people watch.

The terminal was non-smoking, except in designated areas. One of the designated areas was right next to us. Instead of standing in the back, behind the exhaust fans, a few stood in front and blew smoke out into the seating area and the passing crowds.

As time passes, more and more adoptive parents arrive with a kid. Next trip that will be us!!

It is time to pass through the final security. All is fairly regular, until they stop Gayle to pat her down and feel that she is wearing a money belt (mine was empty, so I no longer wore it). In front of all the other passengers, they made her remove the belt, then they opened it and looked inside…at that point everyone knew we had a money belt.

A bit of a panic crept in. How are we going to manage all these security checks with two kids who barely know us, and then the long plane flight? Our mood sombered greatly. The rude smokers, a mean shop clerk, broken waiting area chairs, the stern security workers, the endless wait and an upset stomach didn’t help.

But, soon we were boarding the plane and sliding into our center aisle seats.

We saw the new parents and the kids throughout the flight and none seem stressed. The flight attendants were for the most part quite supportive, so the panic subsided as we made our way home.

It seemed that half of the attendants were Russian; the same may have been true for the passengers. So we heard a lot of Russian being spoken. When they addressed each passenger, the bilingual attendants had to decide which language to use. At least three times during the flight, different attendants spoke to me in Russian. I had been hoping that I was able to blend in while on the trip, maybe I did. We had intentionally brought dark clothing (mostly black) with the thought that that would be common.

At the end of the ten-hour flight when were about to land in New York there was an announcement by an attendant, which we did hear, but mistakenly dismissed as not applying to us. What she should have said was, “All passengers, no exceptions, must pick up their luggage at baggage claim and check it on the next flight.” She instead said something more vague. We assumed that since our luggage always had followed us in the past, then it would do the same this time also. Especially, since the tag that the agent applied in Moscow said “Phoenix”. So, when we naively boarded the flight to Atlanta, our luggage did not.

In Phoenix, we stood patiently at baggage claim, until everyone else had retrieved his or her bags and then, assuming the airline has messed up, we looked for the lost luggage office. The first thing the clerk asked was, “So, you saw your luggage in New York?”. “Huh?” “Oh my!” Confused and tired we met my sister Laura outside and headed home without our luggage. Delta promised to have it delivered to our home. The next day our bags arrived, safe and sound. Live and learn.

And so that chapter of our great adventure ended. It was good to be home, but we’re sad as we know have to wait for our court date.

Just A Few Notes About Moscow

Moscow shares the joys and woes of every metropolis (it has a population of around ten million). It is diverse, crowded, glittery and grey. Rich with culture and history and glaring with commercialism. It is a collection of distinct neighborhoods. We saw but a few. Our sightseeing was quite incidental on this trip, as we remained focused on our adoption tasks. Here are a few scattered impressions.

There were trolley tracks on many of the streets with overhead electrical wires. The streets were crowded with cars , trucks, buses, trolleybuses and trams. Parking was at a premium. We saw places where there was parallel parking on the street, then to the right of those parked cars was another line of cars, double-parked on the sidewalk. In other places, there was angled parking and the cars were parked with the front third of the car up on the sidewalk. Very strange!

We saw people sweeping the sidewalks. Each had a dustpan and a small straw broom with a three-foot handle. Back-breaking work for sure.

I don’t remember seeing pigeons, but everywhere I saw these gray pigeonesque birds. Found out they were Russian crows.

Drove by one of the sites from the 1980 Olympics where we saw the pool and ski jump featured in last season’s Amazing Race reality TV series. The ski jump is used year-round, as it has a special surface to ski without snow.

There are police (or some other law enforcement agency) checkpoints along the roads. A policeman may be standing there so you slow down to hopefully just drive by, but he may wave you in for an inspection. We were not stopped in Moscow, but we were in Klintsy, the small town with Bethany’s orphanage. The policeman talked to the driver for a few minutes, probably checked his papers, nothing more.

There are many, many kiosks along the streets; jam-packed with snacks, drinks, cigarettes, periodicals, and I don’t know what else.

There are monuments all over Moscow, also Bryansk, in the smaller towns and just along the road in between. Many are statutes of historic persons, some were military and other just plain, inscribed, stone monuments.

The Russian Orthodox Church celebrates Christmas on January 7th because they use the Julian calendar. In the Soviet era when religion was suppressed, many transferred the Christmas celebrations to New Year’s Day; with decorated trees, presents and all. During that time belief in Saint Nicholas was suppressed and Grandfather Frost rose to replace it. Now more are celebrating on January 7th again, and many on December 25th, so it is really one long holiday over there.

Riding the Rails Again — Nov 17-18

The train to Moscow leaves around 11:30pm. We walked through the station, across the tracks, to the platform where our train was stopped. There was a crowd of people standing there. Olga led us through the crowd to near the front. Then the train whistle blew and everyone started walking forward. We stopped at the last car and everyone passed us. Customs agents were aboard the train, which had just crossed the Russian border from the Ukraine. Apparently the whistle was to let those in the forward cars know that they were cleared to board. But, Customs was still searching the sleeper cars, so we had to wait a few more minutes, then the OK was given.

Ours was an older car that Olga said had joined the train in Bulgaria. It had not been set up for sleeping yet, so we had to pull down the mattresses and bedding from the overhead storage and make the beds ourselves.

Soon the train left the station, we wrote in our journals a bit, and then fell asleep. Did not wake to see the stuffed-animal stop this trip. The temperature in the car was much cooler this time. Before we knew it we were nearing Moscow again. We got dressed, put our belongings in order and waited for Olga to lead us onward.

There was a couple from Bulgaria in the compartment next to us. They had a dog with them. As they were getting ready to leave, the dog was running back and forth in the hallway.

As the train came to a stop, we lugged our baggage down the narrow hallway toward the exit door. Vladimir was waiting and helped with the bags. We all walked through the large crowd to his car. Olga had a separate ride; so we said our farewells, then headed off on an early morning trek through Moscow towards the airport. It was time to head home.

Correcting The Paperwork — Nov 17

After leaving the Karachev orphanage we were back in the car speeding to the notary office in Bryansk, about 45 minutes, to fix the error on Andrew’s birthdate. Olga ran in by herself this time. Then we rushed to get to the Committee office to document the corrected info, before it closed early for Friday, at 4:30. Whew!

Finally at the Chernigov again, we said goodbye to Victor, Olga rushed off on business and we had some free time. This was good fortune, as we could then meet up with Lin and Andrew from Florida for dinner. They were staying at the hotel for the duration of the 10-day waiting period after their successful court date (soon they would be able to take their 8-year-old daughter home). We had connected through a Bryansk adoption group on Yahoo. So much of their experience was similar to ours. We very much enjoyed the conversation. It was good to exchange stories. We asked questions about their medical appointments in Moscow and their court appearance, and they gave us much good information.

After dinner, we packed up our belongings then relaxed in our room (or what passes for relaxing on this trip), then down to the lobby early to meet up with Olga. We saw the adoptive couple that we ran into at the Committee office. They are also all packed; must have been going to catch the same train to Moscow.

While standing silently, we heard a popping noise, but didn’t think too much about it, as there had been some construction work in the hotel. Eventually it occured to me that the sound was coming from outside. We went out just in time to see the end of a fireworks show somewhere behind the hotel; didn’t remember to ask Olga what was the celebration.

Olga arrived in the lobby on time, found a cab waiting outside and we were off to the station

Karachev – The Official Visit — Nov 17

Back on the road to Karachev; this time in daylight. Mostly during these rides Olga is either on her cell phone or talking to Victor. Gayle and I sit silently (numb from exhaustion). Gayle dozes a little.

The small hatchback car was well past its prime; there was a smell of exhaust fumes. I believe there were seat belts, but no one wears them. I don’t remember the color of the car. If it wasn’t gray, then the road grime made it look gray. I could say the same for all the other cars that I noticed.

Back at the orphanage. Just occurred to me that there are no cars parked outside (there were also none at Klintsy). Where does the staff park? Do they all take public transportation? Up the stairs, we were greeted by the Director and other staff members in the hallway. This was the first they have seen me. Olga said at they are all impressed with how much Andrew looks like me.

We continued on into an office; much smaller than the director’s office at Klintsy. We were told that it was almost naptime, so decided to go see Andrew first. Headed down a hallway, through an area torn up for remodeling, to a playroom. Several kids, mostly smaller than Andrew, were playing there. The room was cheery; with colorful walls, a large window, a big playpen and an area rug that covers most of the rest of the room.

Andrew was on a plastic rocking toy, looking very happy. The caregiver lifted him off to bring him to us. I occupied myself with operating the camcorder and camera. Gayle played with Andrew, who remained close to the caregiver. We had brought another toy for Andrew. It was a few rings connected to a disk with a mirror on one side and our picture on the other. He seemed to enjoy throwing it down. They showed us again how he was beginning to walk, when his hands were held.

He got a little fussy and began to cry a couple of times. They jumped in immediately to divert his attention and brighten his mood. Guess they wanted us to see him at his best.

After about 15 minutes, we said “paka paka” to Andrew for this trip and go back to the office. No couch, we all sat on straight chairs. The Director read from a folder. This time there was something amiss right away. The woman at the Committee had given 12/12 as Andrew’s birthday. The orphanage had 12/04. They made a copy of the birth certificate to give to Olga. December 4th is correct.

Olga jotted down the rest of the medical and family information. Gayle asked a few questions and then our time there was over. We left behind a disposable camera and asked for pictures of Andrew, staff and the facility. Hope to pick the camera up on our next visit. One was left at Kintsy for Bethany also.

Papers To Sign — Nov 17

The next morning Olga and Victor picked us up to dash across town to the notary’s office. There we would sign papers to consent to the adoption and to petition the court. It was a busy place. There was a small waiting area with a dozen chairs. We appeared to the the only non-Russians there and so, likely the only ones there for adoption purposes. There was a delay because the person with whom Olga usually works, was out sick. She sat us down and disappeared into one of the little offices. After a while she popped out and quickly disappeared into another. The same was true of others persons who entered the waiting area while we were there. Most came with someone who seemed to know the system well. They also popped in and out of doors with amusing frequency; much like a British comedy.

One older woman entered, took stock of all the people waiting and asked us something in Russian. We had practiced the Russian expression for “I don’t understand Russian” which sounds like “yahnee pahnee my-yoo pahrooski”, but both of us choked under the pressure of the moment and just shrugged; it got the message across just the same.

Some chose to wait outside...in the cold. They even seemed to enjoy it; these are hearty people!

After maybe half an hour, Olga ushered us into one small office. There was a woman behind a desk, with a young girl sitting in front of the desk controlling the notary book that we must sign. There is no room for anyone else to sit. About a half dozen pages were arranged on the desk for us to sign. Olga indicated the purpose of each, but we were used to signing without question.

That’s it! Olga had done all the other work already. Then we left to speed back to Karachev to meet the orphanage director and see Andrew again!

Next Stop, Karachev — Nov 16

After leaving Klintsy, we drove the two hours back to Bryansk, and then continued on another 45 minutes in the opposite direction to the town of Karachev. These were two lanes rural roads. We passed through forests and farmland. No snow on the ground; cloudy, with occasional sprinkles. I had to squeegee the moisture build-up on the inside of window with my glove. Our driver seemed quite adept at passing. Good thing, as he was always passing. Zipping out into oncoming traffic, then squeezing back in, just in time to avoid a head-on collision. We tried to divert our attention elsewhere, so as to avoid screaming.

It was getting dark. We huddled in the back seat and reviewed the photos and video just taken of Bethany. Again we restarted the discussion of the independent medical evaluation. Once more, we reasoned through our options, and finally decided that we would not have Bethany further evaluated. It was tough to let it go. We wanted to “do the right thing”, but in the end, we are comfortable with our decision. We relaxed and looked at the photos again.

Finally we arrived at Karachev. Should be exhausted, but the adrenaline was keeping us charged. As before, up a stairway and down a hallway to wash up in a narrow examination room. We had arrived too late to meet the Director and staff. We would just see Andrew. There were no chairs, so we stood. With no delay, a caregiver carried him in. We only had a few minutes. He is so cute, but is much shyer than Bethany. Gayle held him a little. We had brought a small stuffed bear rattle, again to amuse and test. He was not too interested and soon he wanted back into the arms of the caregiver. She demonstrated his near walking skills. We were told that there are no men in this orphanage, so he’s not warm and fuzzy about seeing me. It was his dinnertime, so we left and to return the next day for a longer visit.

Again snuggled in the backseat, speeding through the cold night air back to Bryansk, we reviewed the photos and video of Andrew. One last time, we continued our discussion with Olga and decided in the end, to rely on the orphanages medical assessments and to trust Olga’s judgment, bolstered by our meager observations. There would be no independent medical evaluation of either child. We took that “leap of faith”, that before the trip I thought equated to lack of effort and planning. It looked different from our new perspective.

We asked Olga to dinner, but she still had more business to conduct before the day ended. We had a late, leisurely meal in the hotel café, then retired to our room for a much needed rest. Of course, our shifted time zone caused us to wake at 2am. We stayed up for about an hour to discuss the day’s events, before drifting back to sleep. Another long day is ahead for us tomorrow.

On To Klintsy — Nov 16

About 11am, we met up with Olga again and all got into a small car with our driver Victor to head to the orphanage in the town of Klintsy, two hours to the west. We used this time to discuss with Olga the options for the independent medical evaluation that we had tried to arrange, but ended up being rearranged by Olga. We had just found out that the doctor was not available that day, only the next day; so that complicated the schedule greatly. Olga assured us, that the doctor/director of the orphanages were both well qualified and that she had known them a long time and greatly respected their opinions that the kids are both very healthy, and that they will provide all the medical information that we need.

We decided to see Bethany first, hear the medical briefing, and then make a decision about the independent evaluation. Needless to say, that discussion was a high stress part of this journey, and it was “to be continued” later that night. What do they say about best laid plans? Before we left on this trip, our agency coordinator had told us to be flexible while we’re here.

Klinsty appeared like Bryansk, in that it seemed frozen in time. Not much that was new. The houses, more like cottages, appeared well crafted, with beautiful detailing and colorful, but in great disrepair. The starkness of winter added to that bleak picture.

The same could be said for the orphanage itself, though we really did not see much of it. We entered through a back door, up a flight of stairs to a washroom to clean our hands before meeting Bethany. Then back down a hallway to wait our turn in a small room with two desks. The director’s office was occupied by an adopting couple from Israel. They had brought a doctor from Israel with them.

After a short wait we are escorted into the Director’s office. It had a couch and several chairs, bookshelves, coffee table. Simple and small, but attractive. The Director sat behind her desk in a white coat, Olga sat in front of the desk. We were on the couch. It was just the four of us. The director read medical information on the girl from a folder. Olga was writing what she heard, and translated for us at the same time.

Gayle scanned a list of prepared questions for the Director, to see what has not already been covered, and asked a few.

Then, the door opened a little and Bethany peeked in; a caretaker was with her. She looked just as she did in the photo on the computer monitor at the Committee’s office. The Director got up, to guide her in and up to the couch. I immediately reached down, hoisted her in the air and plopped her down on my lap.

She was not afraid of me (whoo hoo!), but she was very quiet. Didn’t speak the whole time we were there. She did seem very alert and studied us, seemingly with great curiosity. We had brought three little toys to amuse and test. Gayle brought them out one at a time. A stuffed fabric camera with our picture on the back, a dinosaur that giggled when you pull its tail, and a little ball. She appeared to enjoy the ball the most, but was very protective of all three toys.

Gayle tried to use her collection of Russian kid words, while I make silly faces. We took some pictures and video. Wish we had taken more! The director was still talking to Olga, but we stopped listening and she stopped translating. We heard someone saying “Eta mómma; eta pápa” which is how “This is your mom; this is your dad” sounds in Russian. The caretaker comes back to carry Bethany away; with all three toys clutched in her arms. Paká, paká, which is how “bye bye” sounds. We won’t see her again this trip. So much preparation, so many miles traveled, for such a brief little visit. We must leave now for the other orphanage.

The Committee — Nov 16

About 9am, we walked across the park in a light, misting rain, and half a block down the street to the office of the newly formed Committee on Families, Protection of the Motherhood and Children and Demography, that resulted from the reorganization of the adoption process in that region. The same woman is in charge, just as part of a different agency on the regional level, instead of the federal level.

Up a stairway, down a couple corridors to a tiny, but cheerful, one-person office. We pulled chairs in from the hallway but didn't quite all fit. After brief introductions, we were shown pictures of the kids on a computer screen. We were seeing them for the very first time! All we knew before that was gender and approximate age. They’re beautiful! What a thrill!!

Olga took notes (and translated for us at the same time) on information that was read to us about the kids, the medical records and their families (as much as was known). We try to take notes from what Olga was translating, but she said not to worry; she would type up her notes and give them to us. (She did.)

We signed papers agreeing to visit them and then wait in the hallway while Olga remained behind for a few minutes. There was another couple with their facilitator waiting their turn; we had seen them before in our hotel. All was finished here so we walked back to the hotel. The rain had stopped, but it seemed even colder. Olga left to take care of some details. We rested in our room and awaited our car ride to the orphanages, while we tried to process all that we had just seen and heard.

The Hotel

The Chernigov is located on a hill, partly flanked by government buildings. It’s a white stone structure with four stories. The entrance has columns and there is an ATM to the left and the snack window (where you can buy bottled water) to the right on the entrance wall. They sell sparkling water also so if you want regular, buy bottles marked “still”.

In front is a parking lot. Behind that, a park with a pedestrian promenade opening onto long wide stairs leading down to a major street below. Across from that, is another park with a large fountain (shut down for the season).

It is all very picturesque.

The lobby has dark marble floors, dark hardwood paneling and wooden columns. There is a café off to the left; down the corridor. A grand stairway is straight ahead, branching to the left and right at the landing.

The second floor has a large lobby area with a seating section by the windows. To the left, in the corner, is a podium stationed by a woman. When we first arrived Olga talked to her briefly. During our stay, our room was not cleaned. We thought it was because Olga had arranged for us to only pay for one day, because we had arrived so late (1:30 am). Turns out that the rule is, if you want your room cleaned, you leave your key with that attendant. Ah ha!

The rooms are through a set of glass doors to the right. The hallway has a red carpet runner with gold border. The hardware on the doors is ornate metal. The lock uses a normal key that is hooked to a piece of wood (hard to lose that).

The room was comfortable, but with tiny beds on opposite walls. Looks as if they might double as couches. No springs just a mattress of the type that can be rolled up for storage.

The tub in the bathroom was mounted on a raised platform, making it risky to step out. The shower curtain was normal length, but because of the platform, it only overlapped the top of the tub by a few inches and the rod was very high. Had to fling the towels to hang them on the rod to dry.

The towels are normal, but no wash clothes, of the type used at home, instead they appear to be an inexpensive type of plaid dishtowel.

All of our various electronic items were dual voltage, so all we needed were plug adaptors. We brought four and used them all.

Behind the hotel is another park (with statutes, of course), plus a casino and an Italian restaurant. We tried to eat at the restaurant on our second evening (we had heard it is quite good), but it had been reserved for a party of some sort.

Both times we ate a meal in Bryansk, it was at the tiny café in the hotel. The food and service was good and very reasonably priced. Had to try the borscht (hot, not cold) and did enjoy it. Tried a couple of chicken dishes, one wrapped in pastry, the other between layers of crepes. They have bottled water and canned sodas.

The Train — Nov 15-16

We got to the train station around 6 pm, found a convenient parking space just next to our train, and waited in the car with Vladimir until we were able to board, about 6:30. Vladimir got us situated into our compartment and we said our goodbyes. Olga by came just before the train left the station, introduced herself and said she’d be back to wake us about 20 minutes before the end of our six hour ride to Bryansk.

With our luggage, we barely fit into the train compartment. Two benches were made up like beds, with a table in between (under the window), and a place to put luggage either under the beds or above the door entrance.

The restroom was down the hall at the front of the car. It is about the size of a airline lavatory. The toilet, sink and floor were stainless steel. The floor was cover with a metal grid. No one on the train said anything to us, but we’d been told by others that you should not use the toilet when the train is stopped, because after you go, you press a foot lever, that causes a flap to drop, some liquid to flow, that washes the waste onto the tracks below.

Now it was time to get a few hours sleep while we could. We both woke up though because it was so hot in the room. John got his translation book out and attempted to speak with the woman stationed in our car at the end of the hallway. We’re not sure what he said because she started showing him a schedule on the wall of the train stops and making hand gestures that we should sleep. Realizing that he failed to get the message across, John pulled out the book again, but this time just pointed to the phrase for her to read, “the room is too hot”. She seemed to understand. We went back to sleep again and thought it felt cooler.

Later on John woke up again when the train had stopped. He looked out the window, stared for a few moments, then called to me. Passing by the window in the frosty night air, were large stuffed animals; leopards, Dalmatians, lions, teddy bears, other creatures. Just floating by the window, riding silently on the shoulders of maybe a dozen villagers. We learned later that there was a manufacturer in that town and the locals came to the train to sell them to the passengers. They milled back and forward for several minutes, then disappeared as the train resumed its travels. It was a Polar Express kind of moment. When we woke again before Bryansk, we had to ask ourselves if we really saw that, or just dreamed it.

Olga came as promised and we bundled up again ready to hit the cold. Got off the train at 1:00 am; not many others around outside. Walking down the platform and across several tracks to get to the train station and out to the taxi area, seemed like some old-time war movie.

Olga didn’t say much to us. We just followed her. We got used to just doing what we were told and not asking many questions. The taxi ride to the Hotel Chernigov was just a few minutes. Olga took our passports and got us checked in then up to our room. She said to meet her in the hotel lobby at 8:20 am. The room was neat and clean. It had two twin beds instead of a double (or king we have at home!). We unpacked a little and probably fell asleep around 2:30, after testing to make sure our cell phone would work as our wake-up alarm. (It didn’t know what tine it was, but allowed us to manually enter the time.) It seems like we never got more than three or four hours of sleep at a time.

Arriving In Moscow — Nov 15

When exiting the plane we were directed along a series of corridors by officials stationed at key points, then down a flight of stairs to stand in a short line before a series of booths, each housing a passport control official. One at a time we approached a booth when our turns came. We silently handed over our passport and migration form. After a few seconds the passport and half the migration form are returned, silently, and then we pass through into the baggage claim area. [The migration form was supplied by the attendants during the flight and they even instructed us on how to fill it out. The form has two halves; you fill out both, with the same information. Passport control takes one half as you arrive; you carry the other half with you and surrender it as you leave Russia at the end of your trip.]

Here is where we got confused. We had understood that we needed to complete a Customs Declaration form (to declare all cash and valuables), which we had expected to receive on the plane; and then pass through the Red Channel. However, everyone was going through the Green Channel (for “nothing to declare”). We asked a few Americans, none knew of the Red Channel procedure. We found the forms on a counter, filled them out anyway, and then tried to ask at the Red Channel. But, no one paid us any attention and in fact, all the Red exits were roped off. So, with much concern, we went through the Green Channel.

Nothing happened! No one was stopped. We just passed by one official who didn’t seem concerned with us, rounded a partition and slipped through the final barrier into the crowd of people waiting to greet their friends, family and other expected travelers. This crowd included Vladimir, our driver, holding a sign with our last name (wish we had asked to keep that sign as a memento.)

We exchanged greetings briefly, then Vladimir told us to put our on coats, so we quickly pulled them out of our luggage. I wish that we had also taken the time to pull out our thermal underwear, or at least our sweaters. We would be in store for some bone chilling moments ahead.

Out into the crisp Fall weather of Moscow we paraded. A high of 30 degrees Fahrenheit and overcast skies greeted us. We loaded the car, then easily exited the airport only to run immediately into stop and go freeway traffic. Sheremetyevo Airport is 30-40 minutes outside of Moscow. The road was lined with that dirty black snow. The leaves were off the trees and buried under a layer of snow on the ground. Scattered houses, fences, farmland (in the outskirts of town) was quite reminiscent of memories growing up in Indiana and New York.

Vladimir asked us questions about our trip and our life in the U.S., and answered our questions of him. He had learned English on his own for this job. He also works at a store repairing guitars. Normally he takes the visiting adoptive parents to his apartment to rest before catching the train to Bryansk (which departs about 7 hours after getting off the plane), but his 16 year old son was home sick, so he decided to show us around Moscow instead.

We wanted to try out our knowledge of Russian and more specifically the Cyrillic alphabet, so we sounded out the words on the billboards and buildings, and Vladimir would then tell us what they represent (often they were just brand names). It was comforting to be able to recognize words at we sounded out. Many are known once pronounced properly. For example, Vladimir finds it amusing when people ask about all of the “pectopah” signs in the city. That is how it appears to be pronounced using English letters. If pronounced using Russian letters, it is “restaran”; which makes it clear why there are so many.

First he had to stop at our agency’s office. He easily found parking (a difficult task in Moscow) near a park and suggested we walk around while he went to the office. Did he not realize how cold it was? Gayle stayed in the car after getting her hat, gloves and scarf out of the luggage. John walked down to the street corner pretending to blend in with the passing Moscovites, but soon came back to the car to thaw out.

Vladimir returned and we drove to a place by one of the train stations, to change some of our money into rubles. The street door was locked and a line started to form outside behind us. Vladimir didn’t say what was going on, so we just waited quietly, shivering in the cold. Finally, the door opened, a man came out and we were able to enter.We learned that only one person at a time could go into the teller. Gayle slid our dollars through a slot in a window and someone slid back rubles.

Back into the car and we’re now on our way to Red Square; to see the sights that we didn’t think we’d get to see this short first trip: St. Basil’s, the Kremlin, the History Museum and the G.U.M. state department store. Tough to enjoy being so cold, but still it is impressive...but hard to believe we were really there halfway across the globe. John’s lips were freezing, so much so that he couldn’t speak clearly at times. Vladimir suggested we go in and tour St. Basil’s. He helped us buy tickets (along with an extra ticket allowing us to take pictures). We offered to pay for his ticket, but he said he’d wait outside for us. Again, did he not realize how cold it was? I guess for Russians this is just a light Fall chill.

By the History Museum is an archway marking an old entrance into Red Square. There in the ground is a plaque noting the exact center of Moscow. Tradition is to stand on the spot, spin around, look at the angel on the archway and make a wish while throwing a coin over your shoulder. It was hard to jump in with all the tourists (mostly Russian, it seemed) and making their own wish. But Vladimir had given us coins and took our camera, so we couldn’t miss this opportunity to make our wish come true. Although I think John wasted his wish, wishing he wasn’t so cold!

Vladimir then drove us to the highest point in Moscow to see the city. This was near the beautiful Moscow University building that is one of the seven sisters (matching buildings scattered across Moscow). He stopped where a friend of his was selling souvenirs on the sidewalk. So we were able to buy a few things; but again the cold kept us from really looking for long.

Vladimir suggested we have dinner prior to boarding the train, so he took us to an American restaurant he thought we’d like, TGI Friday’s! He was going to wait in the car, but accepted our invitation to dine with us. Thankfully they had a menu translated into English. The server was friendly and seemed to enjoy trying out her English.

Now we had to hurry to the train station.