Monday 26 April 2010

Caveat Emptor II: The Birthday Chronicles

Having witnessed two non-Russians celebrate their birthdays here in the space of the past month, I thought it would be astute to mention the… peculiarity that Russians perpetuate concerning such an event.

Put gently, the practice is just a matter of good manners on your part. Put plainly, it’s downright mean on the part of everyone else. The chief warning is this: don’t go to a bar or restaurant on your birthday in Russia.


Why, you might ask, would one not want to celebrate their birthday at an eatery? Good food, wine, and company are perfect for such an occasion – so where’s the issue here? The problem is that, once it’s time for all to stumble onwards, you have to pay.


This shock to a Westerner’s system is compounded by the fact that, when Russians actually go out for birthdays, they hunt in packs. The most recent party I was at had least twenty people in attendance. Even though the birthday boy in question was fully versed in Russian culture, he was still not best pleased when the bill came his way.


Oh sure, your guests will bring presents, cards and likely a cake also, but they will drink you out of house and home. So much for being pampered by your nearest and dearest on the one day of the year when it’s all about you.


So where does it come from? Upon consultation with a native, allegedly, after receiving such gifts and enjoying fun times, one should проставиться (pro-stav-it-sya). There’s no real direct translation, though it essentially means one should equal things out. Another example would be that if you have a housewarming or are cooking for people in Russia – you’ll have to clean the dishes (I actually think this one is meaner) while everyone else sits on their behinds drinking the booze you bought for them.


It’s a sort of superstition that is almost reminiscent of the Aztecs, though not so much of the human-sacrifice-so-the-sun-will-rise-again. Put another way, if there’s enjoyment happening, those mysterious Slavic gods of social conscience must be appeased immediately, lest your moments of fleeting pleasure somehow bite you in the ass further down the line.


In other words, if you come to Russia, go to other people’s birthday parties – not your own.


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In other news, well, there is not much excitement. I’m attempting to snap photos here and there and still going to the gym, though not lifting weights and instead running like a pillock on the machines. Russians tend to have a different gym regime to what I’ve seen in the UK, so thankfully the machines are hardly occupied. This is because Russians are big on weights, but are more calisthenics-ish outside of that, in that they will do exaggerated, odd-angled squats, sit ups, abdominal stretches and so forth (rather than cardio, maybe it’s a not-wanting-to-sweat thing). And then they’ll just grab a bar and hang off it for about ten seconds before repeating.


Victory Day (День Победы, Dyen Po-byed-ee) is coming soon, which should be more fun than last year, as it’s the 65th anniversary of the end of World War II. On that note, I read a magnificent variation on the typical error Russians suffer from when translating into English. Instead of writing the typical “The World War II” (i.e. Russians have a problem with definite articles – the same goes for “The Wall Street” or “The Red Square”), one Russian presented me with the beautiful “World War the Second”.


I was also endlessly amused by Iceland’s Eyjafjallajökull volcano-glacier thing terrorizing Europe, even more so by the fact that I didn’t hear one news anchor attempt to say its name in full (it’s pronounced “EYE-a-fyat-la-jo-kutl”).


Finally, my hair dryer dramatically gave up the ghost, ending its own life with a crunching noise, but it matters not: it’s warm outside, and that’s where I’m going next…

Sunday 4 April 2010

Terrorism returns to Moscow

A new entry has been a long time coming. This is mostly due to the fact that I was on holiday for the first two weeks in March, and then straight back on shift for another week. The events on the Metro on Monday, March 29th, have also delayed writing as well. On the upside, prior to my holiday in Paris, I acquired a digital camera and have uploaded several hundred photos of the French and Russian capitals, which you can find at my flickr account.

I'm not entirely sure it's my place to discuss the Moscow Metro attacks. Looking up the entry about it on Wikipedia will give you more information than I can. Yet what I can do, perhaps, is give you a basic version of the events for those who don't have the patience, or the background knowledge. I should warn you that I will hyperlink a bunch of phrases, something I normally hate doing (seeing as nearly every other damned blog post on the Internet consists entirely of links to other sites). Try to think of them as further reading. I'll attempt to keep things simple.

On Monday, March 29th, the first explosion struck the red line Metro station Lubyanka just before 08:00, which was smack bang during rush hour ("час-пик" chass-peek or "peak hour" literally). Lubyanka is of importance, not so much in terms of the transport network as it only meets the purple line, but what's above it. Here's a pic of the Moscow Metro's layout in English. Click to expand.


On Lubyanka Square is the headquarters of the former KGB (Комитет Государственной Безопасность - Komitet Gos-u-darst-vennoi Bez-o-pass-nost lit. Committee for State Security), now the FSB (Федеральная Служба Безопасности - Federalnaya Sloozh-bah Bez-o-pass-nost-ee lit. Federal Service of Security). In other words, it's the equivalent of London's MI5. As you can see from the map, it's just a little bit north from the Kremlin itself, making it a prime target for anyone wanting to attack the Russian government.

Approximately 40 minutes later, the second bomb went off at Park Kultury Metro station, located further down the line from Lubyanka and joins with the ring line station, which is extremely busy at the best of times. Both bombs occurred while the trains were on the platforms. Had they gone off while the train was in motion doesn't bear thinking about. The trains themselves can hit a top speed of about 70 km/h between stations, certainly at that time of day. The bombs themselves weren't that powerful, but they did contain shrapnel and metal rods, and were detonated via the use of cellphones.

As it turns out, Park Kultury was allegedly not the intended target, even though it is a busy thoroughfare at that time. Instead, Oktyabrskaya (one station anti-clockwise from Park Kultury on the circular line) was meant to be hit next. As for what's at Oktyabyrskaya... well, nothing exceptional comes to mind, other than the fact that it's a ring line station like Park Kultury.

The chief reason why the bomber was not successful in reaching Oktyabyrskaya is that perhaps she had been delayed. I know from an acquaintance - who was on the train ahead of the one that was carrying the second bomber at Park Kultury and heard the explosion behind her - that the red line was being closed off and people were being taken off the trains "for technical reasons" and "told to seek other routes", so the second suicide bomber there would have had to get off at the station regardless of whether or not she was heading to Oktyabyrskaya. It was also at such a time that news about Lubyanka was just beginning to spread. Consequently, access to the ring line at Park Kultury was also shut down for approximately an hour.

In addition, the bombers themselves were two young women - one in her teens - reported to be the widows of two Chechen militants (it's not uncommon for these men often have multiple wives). They have been named, and were allegedly accompanied by two men to the station they both got on at, which is Yugo-Zapadnaya - the first station on the red line from the south west. The apartment they were residing in and where the bombs were assembled has also been discovered. The manhunt for the two accomplices is underway.

On top of killing 40 and injuring 100 people and causing transport havoc - which greedy taxi drivers capitalized on at Metro station Komsomolskaya, also on the red line, by hiking up their fares to ludicrous sums (something in the region of 3000 roubles, or $100, to get to the centre of the city) - the mobile phone networks ground to a halt in the middle of the day as a result of the sheer number of phonecalls made and text messages sent. The authorities also asked the networks to do so in an attempt to block any further detonations. The phone network Megafon reimbursed its customers for any text messages sent from the time of 08:00 to 16:00, while mine (Beeline) sent me information messages about alternative bus routes or something along those lines (I couldn't tell, as the rest of the text was missing).

As for responsibility, it lies with so-called Chechen warlord/Islamist rebel leader/freedom fighter Doku Umarov, who is more or less deemed Russia's equivalent of Osama Bin Laden. Previous acts attributed to this man (or his group, of which he is its self-styled Emir) include the recent derailment of the Nevsky Express in November 2009, which claimed 27 people, as well as numerous homocides and kidnappings - all in the name of seeking the creation of the so-called "Caucasus Emirate".

Thankfully, all of my friends and acquaintances were unharmed, though there were a number of near-misses and those who slept in or were late for work.

As a result of Monday's events, I ended being contacted by BBC Radio Ulster to talk about it. Skip ahead to approximately 1:14:30. I was a bit nervous talking on national radio, so please excuse the inaccuracies that I have hopefully remedied with this post.

Finally, Russia Today went into overdrive on Monday with its coverage, some of which you can watch here. Their footage was at one point being streamed by both the BBC and CNN on the day.

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In other news, the snow is gone and it's warming up. Despite me looking forward to a winter wonderland of lots of snow remiscent of 2005/2006, which I got, it was too long and too dark. So much so that it was starting to take its toll emotionally. What'll likely happen now is a boiling hot summer, just like in 2006, which should be a joy when I'm at work.

I've also joined a gym literally around the corner from my apartment. Nothing exceptional, but it's open late, meaning I can go for a run after work, which is a relief after being on a 12-hour shift.

Last but not least, I acquired a faux leather office chair from Ikea for my flat. Its design is nothing exceptional, but it took a ludicrously long time to assemble because of its leatherette-ness. It was a balancing act trying to position a cumbersome soft thing next to another combersome soft thing, then trying to screw the two together. Three limb minimum. In hindsight I'd have rather changed the tires on a Hummer. Here's the completed article.

Someone should invent some sort of clamp specifically for Ikea furniture.