Story Veta (Book 2)

Kathy in FL

Administrator
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Chapter 207: Aug 21 - Gdansk, Poland

Well, after six hours on a train and most of the remainder of the day on a bus yesterday, all the walking I did with the students today in Gdansk, Poland was both welcome and tiring.

The tour guide met us on Swietojanska Street before heading to Kosciuszki Square, famous for it water fountain and all of the restaurants in the area. It is also just a few steps to what passes for a beach in the city – nothing like Florida beaches – and to the harbor. While at the harbor we took a short walk through Dar Pomorza - Oddzial Centralnego Muzeum Morskiego. That’s pretty much a mouthful also known as the Gift of Pomerania called the White Frigate, that has been associated with Gdansk since 1929. Over thirteen thousand maritime school were trained on her, encompassing 51 years, 102 school cruises, and a half million sea miles.

Another ship we saw was the ORP "Blyskawica," a Polish destroyer of the Grom class that served during WW2. It is the only ship of the Polish Navy awarded with the Virtuti Militari order. From there we walked down the beaches – Gdansk Beach and Sopot Beach – to reach Sopot Pier, the longest wooden pier in Europe, at 515.5 meters. It was a good picture spot because of the great view of whole shore. While we were I the Sopot district we also walked down the main street. It was charming during the day but we were told at night it could become very rowdy as it was the nightlife hub of the city.

Our next stop was the famous Crooked House of Sopot. Urp. That was my so-called cast iron stomach’s reaction to the strange architecture. I kept hearing it called “unique.” It reminded me of a cross between a Dr. Seuss illustration, a melting building, and something someone tried to draw while they were intoxicated. It actually isn’t a house you live in but a commercial structure that holds a café and a couple of business offices. My word, it gave me a headache just looking at it. The students liked it, I can’t imagine why. From the outside it wasn’t practical and that affected the usable space on the inside. Maybe I am just too practical … or not. Either/or I must admit I did not like it. One of the few such locations that I’ve ever been able to say that with certainty. I did not like it Sam I Am. Oh for Heaven’s sake, I must be over tired. Back to recording the day.

We stopped for a break and box lunch at Oliwa Park, known as the green jewel on the map of the region. The park has a long history. It was probably created in the Middle Ages, but its current architectural shape didn’t begin until the turn of 18th. From that point Oliwa Park gradually took on its modern look with the addition of a Chinese garden, English touches, a botanical garden, and a palm house. It is a hugely popular place for people to come and relax, picnic, and enjoy the many sights it has to offer. The students enjoyed the so-called Whispering Caves (aka Dionysus' Ears) that lie to the southeast of the Pałac Opatów.

The students cleaned up after themselves under the harsh eyes of some of the local retirement aged day-time users of the park. I don’t know what those people were expecting, but what they saw was not it. Our group has made a habit out of trying to leave our stopping points cleaner than we find them. The retirees seem to be expecting us to do the exact opposite. The scowls turn to disbelief – as if we were putting on a show for them – but the students either did not realize it or chose to ignore their attitude. Such is life and I think the students have learned that “it takes all kinds” to be an international truism. And in case I’ve never mentioned it, they have a running game about the litter they find … how many pieces they pick up, any unusual finds, etc. I can’t remember how it started but they never fail to tabulate the day’s findings in some way.

The next stop was the Archikatedra Oliwska. The Oliwa cathedral as it is known today was built in stages from the 13th to the 18th century. It is 107 meters long which makes it the longest Cistercian church in the world. The organ case is unique in the world and is considered one of the largest worldwide. I mention it because we were treated to an impressive concert by one of the student organists.

While walking through the Old Town area we stopped at the Amber Museum – there were some very impressive pieces – but we didn’t stay long as we were not the clientele that would buy their expensive trinkets. And then it was through the Upland Gate and onto Dluga Street, Old Town’s mainstreet. As with other such locations there were lots of things to admire; important monuments, musems and beautiful tenement houses. We made a quick stop at Dom Uphagena, an 18th century merchant house. The house was originally owned by Johann Uphagen in 1775 before becoming a museum in 1911.

Golden Gate (Zlota Brama), one of the most notable tourist attractions of the city, was our next point of interest. Inside the Gate there are shocking pictures which show how Gdansk looked after WW2. And then there was there was St. Mary's Church, Gdansk's most visible place of worship. Known more properly as St. Mary's Basilica, it is believed to be the largest brick church in the world. The interior vault supports 37 windows, over 300 tombstones and 31 chapels.

The second most important street in Old Town is Piwna Street. As the name "Piwna" (adjective of beer) suggests, once upon a time the most famous brewers lived here. Also located on the street is the house of Albert Forster, a Nazi politician and war criminal.

We then stopped at the Great Armory (Wielka Zbrojownia) for a quick tour. The Great Armory was built between 1600 and 1609 in the shadow of the medieval city walls. A working arsenal until the 1800's, the armory remains the finest example of Renaissance architecture in the city. Next came the Main City Hall, a spectacular building, and the seat of the city authorities. A photo stop at Neptune's Fountain (Fontanna Neptuna) which is reputedly the symbol of both the city of Gdańsk itself and its links with the sea was also on the itinerary.

Golden House was along our route and worth a picture stop. It was designed in 1618 and has the richest façade in the city. In the friezes between stories are 12 elaborately carved scenes interspersed with busts of famous historical figures, that include two Polish kings. The four statues waving from the balustrade at the top are Cleopatra, Oedipus, Achilles and Antigone.

Walking along Mariacka Street (ulica Mariacka) our guide showed us examples of the historical development of Gdańsk, with its characteristic perrons with the famous gargoyles, and facades of ornate houses formerly belonging to merchants and goldsmiths. We did manage a brief stop at the Motlawa River Embankment (Dlugie Pobrzeze). Our guide told us it is a place where you can feel the spirit of the old Hanseatic League. The Hanseatic League was a confederation of merchant guilds created to defend its members. It started small in what came to be known as Germany and quickly spread to cover much of the Baltic.

Our last three stops were churches. St. Bridget's Church was almost completely destroyed during WWII. It was rebuilt in 1973, based on original designs dating from 1394-1420. Inside the church there is a wonderful amber altar that we were allowed to photograph so long as we didn’t use flashes. St. Catherine's Church is the oldest existing church in the Old Town, and in the whole of Gdansk, under the patronage of St. Catherine of Alexandria from Egypt, containing the grave of the great Gdańsk astronomer Johannes Hevelius in its underground crypts. St. Nicholas Church is one of the oldest temples in Gdańsk, built near the end of the 12th Century, and was the only one which did not suffer damage during World War II and the city's liberation by the Red Army.

A bus met us for the short trip back to the ship. The students were reluctant because tomorrow is a sea day, but also because they do not know if they will be allowed off the ship in Russia. I didn’t have an answer for them and in truth have my own concerns about being in Russia. Estonia comes first so I encouraged them to simply take their time and learn what they could and enjoy it either way since no one knows what tomorrow might bring.

I got a lovely surprise after making sure the students and chaperones made it back onboard. Vit came wandering down the gangway and then smiled when he spotted me. “We have thirty minutes before all-aboard sounds.”

I knew what that meant. He wanted to look around in the duty-free shops. In all honesty I did too. I did some postcard shopping since I hadn’t been able to with the students; we were there to sightsee, not shop. In reality I think our guide simply thought the students wouldn’t have any money to spend or would take too long in the shops. In the duty-free area I did get postcards, but I also got salt. It may sound strange to some, but I was intrigued enough with the vendors wares that I indulged myself. There was a time when salt from the deep tunnels of a site just outside of Krakow would have been carted all across Europe, to the tables of kings and consorts in far-flung realms or so recited the shopkeeper. Today, however, after the end of commercial mining in these parts back in 1996, it’s only available in regional stores. His was one such location and there were all sorts of claims about the salt’s quality. It wasn’t terribly expensive so yes, I got a large bag and will share it with my siblings as a stocking stuffer this holiday season and include a copy of the flyer I picked up.

Vit had his heart set on a bottle of Polish Mead. Mead is a traditional alcoholic drink resulting from the fermentation of honey. It has been manufactured and consumed in Poland since the Middle Ages. The traditional division of mead is półtorak (two parts honey to one part water, plus flavorings), dwójniak (one part honey to one part water, plus flavorings), trójniak (has an alcohol content of 13 to 15 percent) and czwórniak (with an alcohol content of 9 to 12 percent). Various bouquets of honey are obtained by the juice of what is added to the honey such as fruit juice (fruit honey) or spices (honey and spice or herb). Traditional ingredients used are: hops, cinnamon, cloves, ginger, pepper, juniper, vanilla, rose petals, mint leaves, almonds, lemon and orange zest.

We were heading back to security when I was the one to spot the last purchase. It brought back a memory from one of my college roommates. Vit knows there is a story there but wasn’t able to get it out of me before he had to go on duty. Bison Grass Vodka. I’ll include the flowery description here: “No list of things you can only buy in Poland could possibly be complete without at least a mention of this iconic regional specialty. Made like normal vodka, the unique tipple is finished off with an infusion of herbs from the far-flung primeval forests of Białowieża.” Let me simply say this … stuff … is … strong. I will leave it at that and I will not be recording that college caper for future posterity. It is one of the few times my cast iron stomach has failed me.

Tomorrow is a sea day, and I am scheduled half a day to help continue packing up Mr. Baird’s office. I’m not sure if there will be translations but if so, I will be doing that as well. I’m off to bed. As I started out saying, I am tired. I am glad that tomorrow is a sea day and both Vit and I can sleep an extra hour before starting our days.
 

Kathy in FL

Administrator
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Chapter 208: Aug 22 – at Sea

This morning flew by and then Barney shooed me off saying that she didn’t want to listen to HR “beat their ever loving gums” at her any more than they had the preceding day.

“Take off. It will give me time to organize what needs doing the most. Plus Mr. Baird wants to encourage the children to help. They can’t if you do it all for them.”

Hmm. I suppose but as Polina has said, I’ve no interest in looking a spitting llama in the mouth. Sometimes I think she must stay up all night creating a list of such ridiculous misquotes just so she can break my composure.

Vit and I decided to use our half-day off together by working on our own packing.

“We are accumulating things,” Vit said with satisfaction as we both stared into our storage locker we’d emptied not that long ago.

I couldn’t help but giggle. “If you mean for a wine cellar yes.” It is the same conversation we have every few days.

“Ah, you finally found something that your cast iron stomach can’t handle,” Vit says with a naughty grin at my vodka glass.

“What? Never!” He still doesn’t know the story and I intend on keeping it that way. “Besides, this is only water. But Yegor was listing a bit to the side after he and Polina tried the Bison Grass. Are you certain the bottles you sent to Dylan and Charlie will make it through customs?”

Vit grinned. “They will, or your brat will know why it did not.”

“I hope you know what you are doing. That stuff was illegal in the US up until 2010.”

Bison Grass Vodka is usually served chilled on its own. An alternative is mixing it with apple juice (a drink known in Polish as tatanka (Lakota for "American bison") or szarlotka (Polish for "apple cake"); known in the UK as a Frisky Bison; and in the US as a Polish Kiss). It is sometimes served over vanilla ice cream, and another common mixer is ginger ale. A "Black Bison" is the vodka mixed with black currant juice.

The reason why it was illegal before 2010 is because the grass it is made from contained coumarin which the FDA classifies as a "substances generally prohibited from direct addition or use as human food." Since 2011, the makers of the vodka made a version of the vodka from rye grain which aims to have a flavor similar to the original. There are some purists that claim only the original will do and bottles of the pre-2010 brew are very expensive. Most people however say you can’t tell the difference. I do not know who to believe, but I will believe that regardless it is a potent alcohol.

We headed back to the cabin after making sure our inventory was correct and wrapping most of the bottles in bubble wrap to wait for an appropriate crate. We picked up dinner to eat in and afterwards Vit started to playfully fork custard into my mouth. He is intent on bringing my weight back up. I’m not so sure of that happening as I’m back to daily yoga and palates. When I told him that he said, “Then I will make sure that you lose no more. I do not wish to lose you to a wind blowing you overboard.” He has some silly imagination.

I think some of it is worry for the ports that are coming up. Estonia will not be so bad, but Russia eats at him a great deal. In truth, it is eating at me as well. I just have this feeling that I can’t put out of my mind. Like a fingernail scratching at my psyche.
 

Kathy in FL

Administrator
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Chapter 209: Aug 23 - Tallinn, Estonia

Good Heavens. I was in Estonia. I never expected it. I must admit that it was fascinating. Breakfast was a rushed affair as I had accidentally overslept. Not a first time, but it was nearly the worst time. Thank goodness I always lay out my clothing the night before or I would have been frantic. I wouldn’t have had any breakfast at all if Tower hadn’t thrown me a breakfast sandwich as I rushed to get to security.

“I owe you!”

“Fergetaboutit,” he said with a laugh. “How many times have you pulled my hungry butt out of the fire with that magic backpack of yours?”

We both laughed and I inhaled the hardboiled egg on toast before scrambling down the gangway to catch up with the chaperones who where looking for me in the wrong direction. Snafu all straightened out we found our guides and headed out to Tallinn Old Town.

Tallinn’s Old Town is divided into two areas – the lower town and the upper town (also called Toompea). Tallinn is not a large town and the old town area is only a 10-minute walk from the port. Those two sections of Old Town were once separated by gates, almost like two different cities. Nowadays, the combination of the upper town on the high limestone hill and the lower town at its foot form an impressive skyline that is visible from a great distance both from land and sea.

Our guide told us that Tallinn's old town is one of the best preserved among all the Nordic medieval cities and that we were walking the streets that former kings, queens, and czars walked down. The Town Hall Square is reminiscent of pages from a children’s fairytale book with its pastel-colored buildings all pretty in a row. We had a beautiful photo stop at Tompea Hill for stunning views. We also admired the art at Aleksander Nevsky Cathedral. The lower town (all-linn) is one of the best-preserved medieval towns in Europe, and is also a UNESCO World Heritage Site. In all I think we spent two hours just wandering and taking photos.

One of the more notable stops that we made was at Kiek in de Kok and Bastion Passages Museum. The mysterious Bastion passages, dating back to the 17th to 18th centuries, run beneath Toompea and are an integral part of the city’s defense system together with the town wall and its towers. We entered the tunnels through the Kiek in de Kök Fortifications Museum while our guide told us about their fascinating history and to view Tallinn from below.

St. Catherine’s Passage (Katariina Käik) was another notable sight. If you want to get a chance to really glimpse what life was like in the Old Town part of Tallinn, Estonia, you will have a guide take you to St. Catherine’s Passage. It is located just a short distance from the Town Hall. The old passage connects Vene and Muurivahe Streets in town. On the northern end of the passage you will find the remnants of St. Catherine’s Church, which is one of the oldest churches in the city. In fact, the passage derives its name from the church. Many people like checking out the old tombstones that are an integral part of the sanctuary there. There are many famous people buried at St. Catherine’s. On a different note, the southern end of the passage will take you past some of the best artisan shops in Tallinn. You can watch the artists at work in their given craft, as well as more than a few souvenir vendors and kiosks. There are also quaint little cafes scattered down the passage.

A heart-wrenching stop on the tour was The Broken Bridge (The Estonia Ferry Monument). It is an Estonian landmark, located next to Fat Margaret's Tower. The Broken Bridge is a memorial to the ferry catastrophe of 1994; a tragic event in which the ferry ”Estonia,” from Tallinn to Stockholm, went down with the loss of 852 lives.

Other sights were Olde Hansa Krambude, Town Hall Square, Holy Spirit Church (Puhavaimu Kirik), Estonian History Museum in the Great Guild Hall, Pikk Hermann (Tall Hermann Tower), Maiden Tower (Neitsitorn), Viru Gate (Viru Värav), Nunna, Sauna and Kuldjala Towers (Town Wall), the Great Coastal Gate (Suur Rannavärav) and Fat Margaret's Tower (Paks Margareeta), and the Masters’ Courtyard. The Masters’ Courtyard in Old Town is a courtyard devoted to the masters and craftsmen of Tallinn. This is where our group spread some economic cheer and where I sample some mouth-watering confections from a place called the Chocolaterie Café.

Our last stop of the day was at Kadriorg Palace. The palace and surrounding manicured gardens are an example of Tsarist extravagance. We spent an hour there in the park allowing the students to work out any remaining wiggles and then after reboarding I could safely turn them back over to their parents fully expecting them to eat and then crash and burn for the night.

I came back onboard to find that Vit had stretched his legs and gotten some things on our list. Linen towels primarily but he also purchased some kitchen spoons made of juniper wood as well as some juniper berries (a local product). For his “collection” he purchased a bottle of Vana Tallinn, a sweet liqueur. And for me? He purchased several bars of Kalev white chocolate with blueberries. If he keeps this up there will be no question that I will regain all the weight I lost.

I suppose what I am putting off is thinking about tomorrow. Russia. Both Vit and I nearly itch with stress wondering what the place holds for us. But I have no more excuses. It is time for me to follow Vit to sleep. If he can sleep, certainly I should be able to. I hope.
 

Kathy in FL

Administrator
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Chapter 210: Aug 24 - St. Petersburg, Russia (1)(Sunday) - Part 1

This day. Oh my goodness, this day. We are in Russia. That would be enough. But this day. I do not know where to begin except at the beginning. I had no sooner reached over to turn off the alarm than Vit’s phone rang. I immediately knew something was wrong. The stoicism fell across his face and when he asked, “My wife as well?” Ugh. My stomach fell through the floor.

“We must go to security,” Vit told me sitting up stiffly on the side of the bed.

“For?”

“No one is allowed off the ship until a matter is cleared up.”

“What matter?”

“They will not say. But … they ask for me. And Kokhana … for you as well.”

“I wouldn’t leave your side even if they …”

He turned to me sharply. “Veta. I am asking you to please … just …”

“I won’t embarrass you or myself if that is your concern.” I admit I was a bit stiff.

“Nii. I …” I had stood to get dressed and he pulled me to him and took me in his arms. “Nii … you are never that. But these people …” He shook his head. “I would prefer … but it is not to be. Let us see what they want. But do not give them anything without looking at me. Please.”

I understood what he was asking. He needed me to be as stoic and blank as I could be regardless of the situation. I determined to try. I did not know how difficult that was going to be.

We both dressed in full Class A uniform as quickly as possible then headed to security. I was surprised, that in addition to Polina, Mr. Baird was there as well as the Russian envoy.

“A request for your presence has been made,” Polina said to both of us. And we both nodded.

The decks we traveled were nearly clear at that time of day but no particular effort had been made to cover our exit, leaving some people to give us strange or worried looks. The looks bothered me and just added to my struggle. When they said no one would be allowed off the ship until after our meeting they were not exaggerating. Not even our shipboard contingent were allowed on the gangway … not even the Russian envoy. Mr. Baird gave Vit a pointed and slow nod. Polina looked at me and I stiffened my back where it had begun to bend in the brisk wind blowing in off the water. Both of them seem to wonder if it was the last time they would see us.

There was a black sedan waiting and we were escorted there by men whose nondescript suits screamed government goon. They reminded me of the US stereotype of “we’re from the government and we’re here to help” only these men also had the presence of walking walls. They opened the rear door of the car and we had no choice but to get in. The car pulled out immediately after the door was shut. The four “escorts” remained and we were alone with the silent driver. Of course, we didn’t say anything either.

Then the car pulled to a stop near a waterfront warehouse. Only then does the driver say harshly in Russian, “No names.” Despite how dilapidated the warehouse was, it was surrounded by clones of our escorts, these more obviously armed than the four we’d left behind.

I do my best not to show my fear but I’m living in terror that somehow we will be arrested or something. My fear is such I really don’t know what I’m thinking but I followed Vit. Into the warehouse we are escorted. All of the windows are either boarded over or blacked out so it is taking time for my eyes to adjust to the change in lighting. I forgot and wore my photo sensitive glasses and they darkened in the cold wind. It is taking them time to return to normal. I can see nothing, but I do feel Vit stiffen and then stand at attention and very still. Finally I am able to see more than shadows.

Coming towards us is a man dressed in a dark suit, moving slow, who does not appear to be in the best of health. Somehow once the man gets close Vit stands even stiffer at attention with a look on his face that I cannot even begin to decipher and dare not ask him to explain.

In Russian the man says, “This should not have taken so long.” His voice is deep and has echoes of a once powerful presence, but illness seems to be stealing that from him. Then he gives a small bow with his head.

Vit then responds, “I am honored Sir.” And he bows in return slightly deeper and with his upper body. I’ve never seen him react this way to anyone, not even to Baird.

The other man then seems to stand stiffer and prouder for a moment before his health gets the better of him. A wheelchair is quickly brought as a stiff wind blows in from the port knocking the man’s hat off. I snatched it from the air and brush it off before handing it back to the man with a shy smile I cannot hold back. I feel myself blush before quickly returning to Vit’s side. The man looks at me and then at Vit, cocks his eye, and gives a knowing grin and nod. He then silently agrees to be taken back the way he came.

I’m still trying to figure out what is going on while watching Vit watch the man leave. Even beneath the stoic facial expression I see him struggling with an indecipherable and deep emotion. Despite the cold expression that several of the men standing there have on their faces, they too feel something deeply. All I can do is hold my tongue. Vit watched the man be helped into another black sedan on the far end of the warehouse but as they were preparing to leave, a boy who would have been about Benji’s age, comes walking back purposefully like he was a cadette in a military school.

Reaching Vit he gives a respectful bow and says, “With Grandfather’s compliments. He says you will understand. He would give it to you himself but … he is not well.”

Vit tried to speak but all he could do was swallow. I said quietly, “Eyes are the mirror of a heart and I saw nothing but honor in his eyes.” Vit nodded but continued to struggle so I added, “I may not know who he is, but I know he is someone deeply important to my husband. That’s enough for me. May God ease his ills and give him peace.”

It was over as quickly as it had begun. We were directed to return to the sedan and get in. As we drive back to the B the driver says, “Cancer.”

Vit replied, “Thank you for telling me.”

Stiffly the driver said, “I did not do it for thanks. Do you remember Peter Keryanov?”

“Yes.”

“He was my brother. It broke our mother’s heart when he died, and our father now does little but drink to forget. Were you the one that shot him?”

Vit sounded like he wanted to spit. There was a loathing in his voice I have rarely heard. “Nii. It was Mitkin. Do you know of whom I speak?”

The driver nodded and then was silent for a moment. As the car slowed, he said, “Then they finally told the truth. A word of warning Dymtrus. Mitkin has climbed high in the Foreign Intelligence Service. But when the truth of this came out, his swift climb was stopped … possibly forever. There were a lot of important men that have been affected by the facts becoming known; Mitkin is not the least of them and he is a man that worships Perun, Svetovid, and Woda but they appear to have abandoned him. Word is he is the one to be held accountable. His marriage to a politician’s daughter has even ended over it. When word of this meeting reaches his ears … and it will … you should watch your back. He is not a man to take lightly. And a cornered animal can be dangerous.”

Vit said, “I will heed your words. And tell your parents, Peter died with honor and as a hero. He refused to give up his post, even at gunpoint. He refused to let them blow the engines that would have been a death sentence for all of us. There were none braver that night than he.”

The man’s jaw worked then he nodded.

As soon as we pulled up to the ship we got out. The four escorts climbed into the car and then they were away. It was a signal. Crew from all directions of the cruise port came running to prepare for those given permission to leave the ship. My mouth was as dry as cardboard. Polina suddenly appeared, pale and stoic in her own way.

“You … are prepared to escort the students?”

I look at Vit who nods and I lift my chin. “Of course.”

“Good.” She handed me a communication device and a backpack. “There are snacks in here and it has already gone through security. I will see you upon your return.”

I nod. Vit follows after telling me, “I will explain tonight. But … you must take care.”

“I promise,” I tell him. Today is Sunday and I had thought he would be with me but obviously not. There must be something more but I my mind is eased somewhat by seeing Mr. Baird clap him on the back halfway up the gangway. I do my best not to allow it to look like I am struggling with my composure as the students stream down the gangway like they can’t believe they were actually allowed to leave the ship. Someone from the pier walks up to me and introduces themselves as a Liaison who will handle getting my group through security and immigration and onto the bus.
 

Kathy in FL

Administrator
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Chapter 210 - Part 2

St. Petersburg, Russia. I was still in shock but trying to prepare to meet the needs of my group. Internalizing what the morning had brought would have to wait until I had more information from Vit. I kept expecting something to happen at Security and Immigration but nothing did. If anything our group had a much easier time getting through than other tour groups and I was treated with a great deal of respect that I tried to reciprocate.

The tour started with a with a panoramic city drive covering the major sights of St. Petersburg: main street - Nevsky Prospect with its historical buildings, Kazan Cathedral, Saint Michael's Castle, Admiralty, Spit of Vasilyevsky (Basil) Island with wonderful views on the Neva river, Summer Garden, Smolny Cathedral and other great sights. There were several photo stops and I was happy to see the students that regularly displayed “an excess of exuberance” were well-behaved and polite. I’ve since learned that they were all given a very direct lecture on what was acceptable and what was not, as well as the consequences for any unacceptable behavior. A few parents chose to keep their students onboard, but most were allowed to attend. Etta, Al, and Aiden were among those permitted to go but some who did not surprised me. Old prejudices die hard is all I can say.

After one and a half hours our first major stop was at Peter and Paul Fortress. No visit to St Petersburg is really complete without a visit to the site where it all began – the Peter & Paul Fortress. This is the original citadel of the city, built on Hare Island near the north bank of the Neva River between 1706 and 1740. And this is where you can get a feel for St Petersburg’s more than 300-year-old history, from royal tombs to prison blocks to historical museum exhibitions. We were there an hour. What I learned today is that there are definite restrictions on where you can take photos and what you can take photos of. The students are already used to this as it is a way of life with the Peace Mission – and the early problems with social media – and our guides were quite surprised how well they obeyed the rules, even asking for permission first if they were in doubt. Apparently some tourist groups do not follow the protocols all that well and it can be a problem.

After the Fortress we went to the Savior on Spilled Blood, St. Petersburg’s most iconic site after the Hermitage Museum. The Church of the Savior on Spilled Blood is known for its elaborate façade and brightly colored onion domes. Officially the Church of the Resurrection of Christ, the magnificent church was built on the site where Tsar Alexander II was assassinated in 1881. The hour we were there felt rushed but mostly because the crowds were beginning to form, and I was at pains to keep our group closely together.

Next came two hours spent at the St. Isaac’s Cathedral, or rather the museum complex that is there. St. Isaac's Cathedral is one of the greatest monuments in Russian architecture and art of the middle of the 19th century. It is the third tallest one cupola construction in the world after St. Peter's in Rome (143m) and St. Pauls in London (109 m). The cathedral is mainly used as a museum, but sometimes, on major religious holidays, services are allowed to be conducted in there.

It wasn’t just the students who were hungry at that point. I was worried I would develop brain fog if I didn’t at least get a cup of tea but I needn’t have worried because it was time for a traditional Russian lunch at a pre-arranged location. Lunch was … mmmmmmm … it was delicious. A typical lunch menu in Russia will include soup, a main course and fruit drink and will end with tea and something sweet. Soup is considered a must-have for lunch and, depending on the season it could be either a cold soup in Summer or one of the traditional hot soups. The variety of hot soups versus the scarcity of cold soups reveals how much longer the cold season here is.

The soup of the day was Schi, a beef sauerkraut soup. None of my vegan students were on the tour but there was a vegetarian version of the soup had someone needed it. Next came the main dish. We could choose between Kotlety (meatballs and mashed potatoes) or beef stroganoff. I could have eaten a serving of both but chose the stroganoff. It tasted as good as any I have ever had.

The fruit drink reminded me a bit of American koolaid except I knew that it wasn’t. Typical Russian lunches will include either kompot or kisel. Kompot is usually made from fresh or frozen berries and fruits. You basically boil the berries and/or fruits in water and add sugar to taste and enjoy it hot or cold. The key for making kompot is to use a lot of berries/fruit. The more the better. That’s what all of the students had. I chose kisel which is a version of kompot, but you have to filter out the berries, dissolve some starch in the cold water and slowly add the mix to kompot, stirring the drink all the time. The starch makes the drink thicker – like a melted jelly. Vit had bashfully asked if I could make it our first Christmas at home. It has become a family tradition for the entire Petric clan now whenever there is a holiday or celebration of some kind. After the sweet, much stronger than I made at home, the tea was very welcome. So were the Jubilee Cookies that came with it. The cookie recipe was created in 1913 specifically for the 300th anniversary of the Romanov dynasty.

I was nearly rolling after lunch and made such a fuss at how good it was that the guide later said that we had made up for a bad experience the restaurant had had with a tour group the preceding day. The fact that the students all pushed in their chairs and stacked their dishes really pleased them. I suppose they had expected a mess due to their age. I made sure to pass the compliment on later and I also sent notes of to all of the parents. I mean if their kids did something right that should warrant as much attention as doing something wrong does. Positive feedback works better than the proverbial stick after the fact.

The State Hermitage Museum in Palace Square was our last stop of the day. It is the largest museum of Russia and one of the richest museums of the world. I purchased several books and an overabundance of postcards due to no pictures being permitted. I knew Vit wouldn’t care, the previous day he even encouraged me to spend what I wanted while we were here. I’m glad of both as we spent three hours there and my head was spinning between wanting to do my own looking but needing to keep an eye on the students in the extremely crowded environment.

It took more time to get back on the ship than it had to get the students off. The longer it took the more anxious I became. And then to have to go straight to security to report to Polina rather than see Vit was driving my blood pressure sky-high.

When I walked in Polina asked me to sit and then closed her office door.

“You did well Little Sister.”

“Er … in what way?”

She was momentarily surprised then smiled. “You impressed the right people. And they were watching you with the students as well.”

“Ugh. Who? And more importantly why?”

She shrugged. “Because it is the way this part of the world works. Plus … I think it was a favor to Vit. I am told there is …” She ended with a questioning tone.

“Don’t ask me Polina. I haven’t a clue what I witnessed, who the people involved were, or the why of it. I do know that at least one of the people appeared extremely important and … perhaps revered isn’t the best word but it is the first word that springs to mind. Vit obviously respected him. The remainder? Obviously above my pay grade.”

She grinned even wider. “And we will leave it that way.” I suspect Polina knows more than she said. She didn’t ask me to break Vit’s confidence so it is no skin off my nose … or “hair off my head” as Polina has said in the past. She took my reports and then said we could discuss them later, that she knew I was anxious to go “freshen up” after my long day. Uh huh.

I walked into the cabin to find Vit pacing. “Kokhana!”

“Are you okay?” I asked walking into his open arms.

“Yes. Nii. I am relieved you have returned. I worried for you today.” He gave me a tight hung. “And now, drink some tea while I explain this morning.”

“Should you? I … I don’t want you to risk getting in trouble.”

He relaxed. “Ah. My good wife.” He sighed. “I cannot tell all. That is still not permitted but I will explain what I can. You deserve to know.”

I accepted the cup of tea he offered and tried not to frown when he grabbed a bottle of vodka, took a long look at it, then put it back in the frig and instead poured a glass of wine.

“The … gentleman … is the father of my Captain.” From that I inferred he meant the man that some of the crew of the submarine mutinied against. “It was on his word alone that I was kept out of prison during the investigation, and it was with help from him that I was able to leave Russia despite my passport and other identity papers having been confiscated up to that point.”

“Oh Vit.”

“Yes, his son was mad but that was not his fault. And he behaved honorably even when for a time it looked like I had been a criminal.” I could hear real respect in Vit’s tone.

“I’m glad someone gave you a chance. But … er … what was in the papers? Were you cleared?”

“I was already cleared or … I would not be here.” The matter-of-fact way he said it gave me goosebumps. What came next was beyond anything I could have imagined. “The papers … explain my parentage.”

“Your what?” I asked, completely and totally conflabbergasted.

Looking like I felt Vit said, “What this must have cost to discover … Kokhana I do not think I could even surmise.” Then he added, “I am a Cossack. A true Cossack.”

I said, “Was there ever any doubt? I’ve had none.”

Vit gave me a look and then pulled me over to him. Quietly he said, “This must never go any farther, it is imperative. Not even Dylan must hold this knowledge, not until I am certain it will not bring harm to the family. You must agree to this.”

I was frightened but nevertheless agreed. “It shall be as you wish.”

He sighed. “Not as I wish but as necessity dictates.” I nodded my understanding which allowed him to continue. “My father was an officer in the National Guard. My mother … Ukrainian. This was back in the days when the rivalry between the FSB and the National Guard was at its worst. I will not put you in danger by giving names but … my father was arrested for a crime he did not commit and died in prison shortly before I was born and before his name could be cleared. My mother was killed four years later in what was called at the time an alley mugging. In truth she had joined a … rebellious group … that had promised to make the FSB pay for the dead and disappearances they had caused.”

“Does it explain about Anitchka?”

“It does. She … was my half-sister. My mother went into a relationship about six months after my father’s death. Two thoughts on the matter … because she was a beautiful young woman and alone and prey to such things. And for financial reasons to keep me from starving as her family had turned her out when my father was ….”

When he stopped speaking I asked, “Are you all right?”

His skin was cold and clammy. It worried me. “It is answers I never expected to get. There are photos. I … look like my father. Anitchka had our mother’s eyes.” He shook his head like he was a bit haunted. “I had learned to live with the non-answers. Now I will learn to live with the answers. It … it is enough to know my parents were honorable.”

Trying to help him shake the shock of it all off, or at least get it manageable I lightly teased, “And that you are Cossack indeed and not just in hope?”

He sighed. “There is more to being a Cossack than birth. But yes, I think I now rest easier on that.”

“Do you want me to get you some dinner? We can eat in. You need something.”

“Ah. Polina and Yegor have asked us to go out with them. Do you mind?”

A little surprised I still said, “Nii.”

“Then we should hurry.”

We dressed casually and were nearly pounced on by Yegor as soon as he saw us.

“Say yes,” Yegor demanded. “If you do not, I am stuck listening to my sister tell me what a worthless piece of **** I am for leaving her to take care of our mother alone. And she and Polina will wind up throwing things that I will have to pay for. You owe me that much at least for finding your mouse.”

I’m not sure what to make of him or his words but Vit clasps his hand and says boisterously, “No man should have to put up with that. I’ll buy the vodka, you lead the way.”

I slowly looked at Polina who shrugs and says, “He’s not wrong. His sister is worse than a bear with a hangover. It is her husband that is the useless one. What is it you Americans say? He has champagne tastes and a beer belly wallet.”

I tried not to laugh and said, “Close enough.”

I can’t tell you exactly everything we ate but better that than not being able to remember what all I drank. Actually I didn’t drink and Polina only drank a little. We were both along simply to allow our men to blow off some steam. I knew why Vit was stressed but never did understand all the dynamics of Yegor’s long involved diatribes against his various relatives. Apparently it is something particularly Russian. However, after three hours it was time to return to the ship and we had to pour nearly a pot of strong coffee into both of them. Luckily they weren’t too drunk and didn’t upchuck the delicious food we ate. Pierogis (hearty thick pastry with generous meat/vegetable filling), Borsch (the most famous Russia soup with beets), Bleeni (pancake which comes from pre-Christian times), Solyanka (a soup thick enough to be a meal to itself), Peroshki (similar to an empanada but stuffed with meat, cabbage, and cheese), Shashlyk (Russian kebabs), caviar, and enough desserts to put me into carb collapse.

Unfortunately, on the way back to the ship I caught my second wind. Vit was very playful until the end of our shared shower. Then shock set in once again. I tried to distract him but it was no good. He finally went to sleep and I’ve been writing this out ever since. Tomorrow (nearly today) we are in St. Petersburg for a second day. I had several notes from parents thanking me for letting them know how well their students did and asking if I would also be on the second day’s tour. I sent off what confirmations that I could but I suppose I should get to bed. Tomorrow promises to be another long day. My poor Vit. Yes, he has answers he never expected but oh my … those answers. I worry that belated grief will hit him and I will not be here when he needs me.
 

Kathy in FL

Administrator
_______________
Chapter 211: Aug 25 - St. Petersburg, Russia (2) - Part 1

I could swear, just really swear. A long, drawn out string of swearing that would shock even Charlie. This day is not like yesterday but still, I could just swear. If it is not one thing, it seems to be another. All this drama is completely unnecessary. I’m thinking pirates might not be so bad after all. At least I can shoot them with impunity, and everyone would understand.

This is … oh bother. If I don’t get this down in my thoughts straight I will not be accountable for my actions. Only I will be. Bah. I will practice my stoic face after I finish this journal entry. I’ve already packed our case and Vit is not here to witness my tantrum. Ugh. I need to remember to set my violin case beside my backpack. Back to typing in a sec.

# # # # #

Okay, left a note for myself on the inside of the cabin door. I also added another spare set of glasses to my bag. I have no idea what I would do if … stop it Veta. Just settle down. Write your day and then get some rest. You are going to need it. And I apologize for the third person rants and admonitions. It has just been a day … or should I say the daytime was interesting but as soon as I got back onboard things got … complicated. I still have not decided if they went sideways or downhill. It could be either one.

I really did not want to leave Vit this morning. He looked … well … a bit strung out. I had to shave his face as his hands were shaking such that I worried about him cutting himself. He only worked a half day and would not go in until lunch time. I wanted him to sleep in since he was supposed to accompany me on the evening’s activity, but he refused saying he would only wind up more tired. I left him re-reading the file the old man had given him.

I was in no mood for food but grabbed a muffin so I wouldn’t suffer for it later in the day. I also poured a strong cup of tea for myself and made myself sit calmly and drink it. Who knew that would probably be one of the smarter things that I did today? From there I quickly headed to the security exit. Ugh. The students were a little wound up and I was about to remind them of the behavioral requirements. Yay for me that I didn’t have to play heavy first thing out the door. Polina walked briskly on the scene and asked, “Will I hear that there have been problems?”

It looked like a nest of owelets blinking in the sudden light. “No Chief Ivanov,” several of them said at the same time.

She looked them over then turned to me. “I will be watching and will send assistance if necessary.”

“Yes Chief Ivanov.”

She gave me a half-wink where no one could see. I nearly laughed at everyone’s relief when she moved on to the next group but everyone’s behavior – including that of the chaperones – had improved. Getting through Immigration and Security took a little more time this morning than last, but not as bad as last evening. Our liaison was waiting on the other side, smiled grandly, and led us to our bus and guides for the day. We wound up having the same ones which was nice. It meant less time getting to know each other. And good thing as our first activity of the day was a subway ride and tour of the most beautiful Metro stations. You read that correctly.

I expected something along the line of a nice train station, but I was nowhere even close. The first metro stations in Russia were built as monuments to and for the working class. When I say the stations look like palaces I am not exaggerating in the least. The newer metro lines are more modern and antiseptic in design. The ones we visited - stations Ploshchad Vosstaniya (famous for its bas reliefs), Pushkinskaya, Admiralteyskaya (the deepest in the world), Kirovskiy Zavod (massive marble and granite columns), Narvskaya, and Avtovo (an underground palace) – are grand on a scale of the palace of Versailles and other such places; they were old the oldest of the stations. Marble, granite, columns, arches, crystal chandeliers and candelabras, mirrored and gilded surfaces.

Some “fun facts” our guides told us is that the metro stations in St. Petersburg are the deepest in the world, Admiralteyskaya station being the deepest (86 meters below the surface, or 282 feet). It is also the first subway system to try platform screen doors completely isolating people in the station from the trains. It was introduced not only to avoid any suicide attempts (once a real problem) as well as accidental falls onto the rails. It also minimizes noise, wind, and the amount of litter on the rails. One of the other “firsts” is that St. Petersburg was the first city to introduce single-vault stations and a two-tier station.

After the subway tour – and the opportunity to stop to pick up some gorgeous postcards – we resumed the bus tour and took an hour drive to Tsars Village (Pushkin). Founded in 1710 as an imperial residence, it is even more notable as being the location of the first public railway in Russia in 1837. This museum complex includes the Catherine Palace, Alexander Palace and other buildings and associated parks, and today is a major tourist attraction.

Even our lone French student that has bragged about being descended from royalty was more than a little awed by his surroundings. I once thought the French royalty had a lock on over the top opulence. Not so. Before really entering the grounds our guide reminded us that unless given specific permission that we should leave all phones and photographic equipment put away. He said that he would obtain a digital package for us. He would give a copy to me and I could download it for the students. The first thing I thought was that no one was downloading anything until Dylan’s program gave it a good sniff. It turned out to be clean and had more than just pictures. There were videos and pictures of the students visiting both yesterday’s and today’s sites. That told me as nothing else did that we were being watched, but thus far nothing has come from it.

The first location within the museum complex that we went to was Catherine Palace where we were given the privilege of visiting the Amber Room, normally only seen by special appointment. In the past you could go with a special ticket but too many people have made the room and amber within it fragile. The Amber Room was once considered a Wonder of the World. Originally constructed in the early 18th Century for a Prussian location, it was given by King Frederick William I to his close ally, Russia’s Peter the Great who installed it at Catherine Palace. After some renovations it covered some almost 600 square feet with thirteen thousand pounds of amber. The original Amber Room was dismantled and stolen by the Nazis and its current whereabouts is a mystery. The current Amber Room is a reconstruction that was started in 1979 and wasn’t completed until 2003.

The Palace is one of the most stunning former summer palaces of the imperial families. It is a grand property that was left completely gutted―but renovated extensively―after WWII. If what we see today is still not as grand as it once was I suspect many viewers would go blind. Its halls are opulent halls. The Amber Room has been painstakingly recreated with amber panels, gold leaf and mirrors in a process that took more than two-decades. Catherine Park is just as amazing and we learned about its impressive landscaping. It was lovely to have such knowledgeable guides because it meant they could answer the students’ questions and I wouldn’t have so much “homework” to do. All of their curiosity about the history of the palace construction and redesign were answered. We saw pictures showing the amount of destruction caused during the Second World War. The guides explained the tedious restoration process and the story of the famous Amber Room, how it disappeared and how it was newly recreated by talented amber craftsmen in the local workshops of Trsaskoye Selo.

While on the bus we ate a boxed lunch that was a bit like something you would find in a bakery. The students all praised it saying it was the best boxed lunch they’d had. The main dish was perogies; one filled with apple and the other with cabbage and chicken. There was a box of fruit juice (standard in Russia and not just for “kids”) and for dessert there was a bar of Russian chocolate. I’ll admit the perogies were quite filling but I could have done with a cup of tea to wash the sweet away. Not that I’m complaining, simply stating a fact.

Happily everyone had finished their lunch during the hour drive to the Peterhof Summer Residence, our next stop. How do I describe this place without sounding unbelievable and using an excess of adjectives? Think of it as the centerpiece of Peter the Great's "Russian Versailles". The palace itself is amazing on its own but when you add the park and fountain gardens, amazing becomes nearly indescribable.

The ballroom is a gilded masterpiece like nothing I’ve ever seen outside descriptions in fairytales. The floors in the throne room and dining room are inlaid wood that are so precise I struggle to figure out how they did it without a computer and laser. But we are talking the 1720s so everything was done by hand. We were even allowed to see the oak study used by Peter the Great when he was in residence. Catherine the Great left her own mark on Peterhof by adding even more opulence to the gardens with fountains and gilded statues so shiny they are blinding when the sun hits them just right. The garden has taken two centuries to reach its current incarnation and encompasses nearly 200 different styles. The fountains are engineering feats well before their time, and each succeeding generation tried to outdo the one before. The fountains do not operate year round, closing in early October and re-opening usually in May though they’ve been known to open as early as April. When they do reopening it is an all-day festival that people around the country attend.

From the opulence of Peterhof we transitioned to the opulence found in the Faberge Museum where we spent an hour. First, it is located in the Sherlov Palace. It is inconspicuous outside, but inside it reveals a timeless and classic architecture. There are four thousand items on display but the most valuable are nine Easter eggs made for the last two Russian emperors, Alexander II and Nikolai II. I will quote Charlie for this review. Someone had a little time on their hands. Or should I say a lot of time. And a lot of money. Heavens. Only the jewels on display in the Smithsonian come close to what I saw today. Or perhaps some of the crown jewels in the Tower of London. Of the Sixty-nine known Fabergé eggs, fifty-seven have survived to the present day. Ten of the imperial Easter eggs are held by the Russian government. Of the “lost” eggs, only three are known to have verified photographs of them: the 1903 Royal Danish Egg, the 1909 Alexander III Commemorative Egg, and the Nécessaire Egg of 1889. At one point there were thought to be seven “lost” eggs but the Third Imperial Easter Egg of 1887 was found in the US in a private collection.

After the Russian Revolution, the Bolsheviks nationalized the House of Fabergé, causing the Fabergé family to flee to Switzerland. During the same time period, the imperial family's palaces were ransacked and their treasures moved to the Kremlin Armory on order of Vladimir Lenin. His successor, Joseph Stalin, was desperate for money to keep the government going and had many of the eggs sold. Between the years 1930 and 1933, fourteen of the imperial eggs left Russia, many of them to Armand Hammer who was very wealthy, a personal friend of Lenin, and the son of the founder of the Communist Party in the US. After the collection in the Kremlin Armory, the largest collection of Fabergé eggs numbered nine and was assembled by Malcolm Forbes. They were to be put up for auction by Sotheby's in 2004 by Forbes' heirs, but before the auction could begin, the entire collection was purchased for a then undisclosed amount in by the oligarch Victor Vekselberg whose estate still owns them today as part of their Faberge private collection.

My purchase of the day was a replica Faberge egg. It is a replica of the Memory of Asov Egg and it also came with the replica “surprise” in the egg of an imperial naval cruiser. Yes, it was expensive, but I saw it and it seemed to embody so much of Vit that I had to have it. The original is still in Russia. When I got it back to the B, it was to find that Vit had gotten off the B and done some shopping of his own and felt drawn to a replica of the Danish Palaces egg. It’s “surprise” are miniature folding panels that are painted with the following scenes: the imperial yacht Polar Star; Bernstorff Palace, Copenhagen; The emperor's villa in Fredensborg park, near Fredensborg Castle; Amalienborg Palace, Copenhagen; Kronborg Castle, Helsingør; the Cottage Palace, Peterhof; Gatchina Palace near St. Petersburg, and the imperial yacht Tsarevna. The original is on display in the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

I hugged him and Vit was surprised. “You … are so pleased? I was not certain …”

“Vit Dymtrus you are far more romantic than you let on.”

I won’t record the rest of our conversation. Suffice it to say Vit was pleased … as was I.

Our last stop before heading back to Security and Immigration was at Kazan Cathedral. The Cathedral overlooks Nevsky Prospect, the most central street of the city. The Cathedral’s proximity to the colorful Church of the Spilt Blood means it is often overlooked by visitors to the city, but this Orthodox Cathedral is a must-see if you every have the opportunity, It may be an Orthodox Cathedral but looking at it put me in mind of the Vatican and with reason; it was modeled after it.

Completed in 1811 its purpose altered, and it became a symbol of Russian’s victory over Napoleon in 1812. In 1876, the first political demonstration look place in front of the Cathedral. After the Russian Revolution of 1917 the Cathedral was closed; however it reopened in 1932 as a pro-Marxist museum of history, religion, and atheism. It wasn’t until 1992 that the Cathedral resumed its original purposes as a church.
 

Kathy in FL

Administrator
_______________
Chapter 211 - Part 2

While there the atmosphere and history affected me quite a bit. I asked the chaperones to watch the students so I could go say a prayer I’d learned while in correspondence with the old priest, my uncle, known as the Prayer for Healing.

O Christ, Who alone art our Defender: Visit and heal Thy suffering servants, delivering them from sickness and grievous pains. Raise them up that they may sing to Thee and praise Thee without ceasing, through the prayers of the Theotokos [Virgin Mary], O Thou Who alone lovest mankind.

I suppose it was odd given what most people considered my cold nature. But Edda caught me with tears in my eyes and asked why. The story of my early life came out for many more people to know than I expected. I apologized and begged their pardon for my tears. I was about to leave when I was startled by a tug on my skirt. I looked down and saw a small girl holding a flower for me to take. I bent down and thanked her in Russian. The girl’s smile lit the entire area and then she pointed to an old woman selling flowers.

Suddenly I knew exactly what I wanted to do. “Flowers. I want to buy flowers for the church,” I told the old woman. She smiled at me gently and it reminded me so much of Momma that I knew that I was doing the right thing even if I couldn’t explain exactly why.

Etta got my attention again and asked if it was something I did when I was little. “It’s hard to explain,” I told her. “Imagine being all but blind and deaf and leaving all that you knew by taste, touch, and smell. I was very young and nearly feral at times. Then one moment, a breakthrough. It was the memory of the smell of flowers that allowed me to move from the world I was born into – the church orphanage – to the world I’d been sent to. I was terrified when I came off the plane. The world was too big, too different. Then the woman who became my mother wrapped me in her arms and I smelled it. She wore flowery perfume and … it just calmed me. She would put flowers in my hair when I behaved for her. It is what helped me to survive being healed with surgeries on my eyes and ears. I still love flowers … or at least the smell of flowers. Sometimes when I play my violin it is like I am in a garden and … never mind. It is just … the way it was for me.”

“Wow.”

“My Poppa used to say, ‘Love that big can send you across the ocean … and can give you the courage to survive the crossing.’ And I try and purposefully show my appreciation when I can and that helps me not to take for granted all I’ve been blessed with … and not forget there are others still living the life I was able to leave behind.”

One of the chaperones asked me, “Are you okay Mrs. Dymtrus?”

“Memories,” I answered. “Just memories.” But I also knew it was time to move along.

Security and Immigration wasn’t as busy as it had been in the morning, and that it would be when tourists from other ships docked nearby returned to their ships. I made sure that all the students made it back to their parents or guardians and I went to security to turn in my report. I was told that Polina was in a meeting so I simply put the report on her desk and headed for the cabin. Vit was waiting for me and we exchanged our gifts for one another. They are on the same shelf our “troll family” sits on but we are thinking about locking them in our room safe for safekeeping.

The evening’s activity was dinner and a Russian folklore show. The food was good and the music and dancing enjoyable but in truth both Vit and I were drained, and my attention kept wandering around the room, making sure the group I was with remained together and focused. A woman almost made us late because she wanted to shop but I told her we had to get back to the B as our security passes had to be strictly adhered to.

She kept giving me disgruntled looks all the way back to the ship and through security. I might even say she flounced off though she wasn’t of the age to pull it off with any dignity. Vit and I were two steps away from our cabin door when we were called to Security.

“What now?” I grumped. I’d been looking forward to a hot shower and washing my hair.

“Perhaps the woman complained,” Vit answered. He was in a thoughtful mood. I could also tell he was very tired and I resented whatever it was that was taking him away from getting the rest he needed.

I walked in first and then stopped short. Not only was Polina in her office but so was Mr. Baird and the senior Russian envoy. Vit was so close behind me that the way I stopped nearly caused him to stumble. He caught himself and stiffened as soon as he saw what I did.

Bottom line is … we’ve both been assigned to a temporary detour in Russia with some other diplomats. We are to leave early in the morning for Moscow and all we need are a couple of days of clothes and our ID papers, everything else will be provided. The envoy acted like we were being given a huge compliment to be included, that we’d both been asked for by name. He shook hands with Vit but nearly patted me on the head before leaving. I looked at Polina then at Mr. Baird, then at Vit, leaving him to be the first to speak.

“This is … legitimate?”

Baird sighed. “All on the up and up. My concern is they aren’t very specific what your duties will to be. One of ‘em let slip this was a sudden change in the plans.”

I looked at Polina who said, “This is a good thing. My country was ambivalentnyy – ambivalent – whether they would fully participate in the Peace Mission. They wanted to be part but, there were those that wanted to maintain distance as well. This detour shows their willingness to participate more fully. Even if that is to balance out the Asian influence, it is a good thing they are now open to more participation.”

Mr. Baird said, “Exactly. Let’s take a walk to my office. I have a couple of things for you.”

Trying not to make a face where anyone could see me, I glance at Polina who let me see the humor in her eyes. I was glad she wasn’t taking offense at Mr. Baird’s rather obvious ploy to speak with us without Polina hearing it. Right as I was leaving the room, she handed me what looked like a report but I could feel something pressed between the center. I nodded at Polina and she at me.

What Mr. Baird wanted to give us was a talking to about what to do in the unlikely event there was trouble. “I’ve got friends. If you can’t reach me directly, you reach these people, and we’ll make arrangements. The British Embassy is also on alert should they get contacted by you. And Veta, give your brother a call. He’s not happy. I could feel the heat coming through the communicator. Admin made the arrangements without clearing with stateside security. We can’t pull out now, it would look very bad.”

I’m not up for recording that conversation with Dylan but it was strange, Vit seemed more confident knowing Dylan’s feelings on the subject. It was later that I found out it was because he knew that there would be someone looking out for me should something happen to him.

“That’s all very fine and dandy. But you can add Polina to the people looking out for us.”

“What?”

I tossed him what Polina had hidden between the pages of the report. It was a very thin wallet. Inside it was Russian rubles and several business cards. On the back of the cards were instructions on how to contact certain people and how they could be useful.

“Vit two of those people have Ivanov as a surname. Another one has Kuznetsov and that is Polina’s maiden name. And before you say something I know those are common surnames in Russia but …”

“But it would appear we have very good friends,” he said.

Then the packing, and then Vit going on to one more shift, and I must now get some rest. Every time I think I have finished with the 007 crap it rears its ugly head all over again.
 

Kathy in FL

Administrator
_______________
Chapter 212: Aug 26 - Fly to Moscow (Part 1)

As I wrote yesterday, we have been temporarily assigned to a small envoy of diplomats “paying their respects” to Russia. Vit was asked for particularly, I thought I was as well but today someone inadvertently let slip that I was an afterthought to keep him happy and not make waves. Huh? What? They could send me away multiple times but this time they kept us together to keep him happy? As Devin would say, “Alrighty then.”

There is something going on but I’m not sure just what. Politics in Russia is so strange. With both of us of Ukrainian descent it is difficult to determine whether it is a political statement in general (Ukrainians being subservient to Russian interests) or whether it has to do with Vit in particular for his talents or possibly even for his history.

I suppose I should just get it out of the way now. Dylan is coldly furious that this could happen and he is taking it personally. We told him last night to be careful but with the mood he is in there is no stopping him.

# # # # #

“I am not sure that I like this.”

I said, “Dylan there is nothing to be done about this.”

“I know, but I am going to have eyes on you two the entire time regardless of the cost. They can include it in the invoices. If someone gives you our private signal for getting out of Dodge …”

Vit said, “You risk too much Brother.”

“Dammit, they are not stealing either one of you.”

Trying to calm him I said, “Dylan it might mean nothing.”

I could hear the fury in his voice even though to most people he would merely sound mildly miffed. “I’m aware and that is the only reason I am not pulling some of the stunts that I could. It might also be someone trying to curry favor. Word has it that there has been a shift in strategy. The Peace Mission is much more popular, internationally and nationally, than they expected. Nevertheless, use utmost caution. And don’t get pulled into any political discussion. You both know the drill.”

Since Vit hesitated, I jumped in and said, “I’m asking you not to share this with the family Dylan.”

He snorted, a bad habit all the men in the family seem to be picking up. “That you definitely don’t need. I’ll pass along that you are incommunicado for the week. If they fuss I’ll say … oh hell, I’ll think of something. But someone is going to get some big paybacks for pulling this with no input from us. The Boss Man ain’t happy and contract or not he’s got some pull.”

# # # # #

As with all things in Russia it is hurry up and wait. We waited for the car to take us and the other diplomats to the airport. Then we waited like residents of a cow chute to go from line to line in the airport … security, check in, luggage tagging, more security, another check-in for the flight, another TSA-like inspection of carry on luggage after check-in at the gate, and finally a line to board the assigned flight. We rode S7 (years ago it was known as Siberian Airlines) and the planes are still the weird lime green they’ve been for decades and the interior was just as purple. I was surprised we rode Business Class, but I won’t complain. It was only a 2-hour flight but at least we weren’t crammed in like fish eggs in a caviar can.

The hurry up and wait was the same to get off the plane at Sheremetyevo International Airport with lines and more lines. Multiple security checks, luggage pick up that had to be found since it was shipped in a secured container, find and meet our liaison, wend our way through the paparazzi that caused irritation for other people in the airport, wait for the liaison to find our transfer, and then actually get permission to leave the airport and start our day. Even with a representative assigned to our group at each step of the way it was a long and tedious process.

I was rather shocked to find out we wouldn’t know the itinerary until we met our liaison and our liaison had only just gotten the group’s roster of attendees at the same time. Oh. My. The young woman was gorgeous. She reminded me of a cross between an old-time beauty queen and a Bond Girl from the movies. She was also in a bit of a panic because she spoke English but none of the other home languages of the diplomats in the group. Then we were joined by several Russian diplomats, one of whom brought his wife and grandsons. The boys were middle school age and very well behaved, but you could tell they expected to be bored.

I looked to Vit, but he was being drawn in by the leaders in the now combined group. Both Mr. and Mrs. Hurkovskiy were important members of the Russian party and I really did not like the idea of their grandsons being left alone to make their own way within the group. I’ve grown too used to and too comfortable with my role as the students’ security chaperone aboard the B so I did the same thing with Maksim and Mikhail. We got to know each other when they realized I could tell them apart.

“Of course I can tell you apart. Mikhael, you play a string instrument. Maksim, you play piano.”

“How did you know? Did Babushka tell you?”

“Nii. Look at your hands. Maksim your hands have long fingers with smooth skin but I bet those hands are a lot stronger than people expect.” Then I held up my own hands. “Mikhail?”

“You play the violin!”

“Very good and yes I do. I also see that both of you must play some sport, but they are not the same one. You’ll have to give me more clues however if you want me to figure it out.”

It turns out that Maksim is into track and field, Mikhail enjoys archery and tennis, and both boys enjoy cross country skiing in season.

“Excellent. A healthy and balanced life. What about your studies?”

Both boys enjoy mathematics and art which most of their friends find odd. “Why? Music, art, and mathematics all exist in the same dimension. You cannot have one without the other. Look at Leonardo da Vinci or Alexander Borodin or say Yakov Perelman? Ask any of them and they would have said the same; mathematics, music, and art all spring from the same creative well within the human mind.”

The paparazzi were becoming annoying and out of habit I inserted myself between the boys and the so-called journalists. A Russian soldier approached me and asked stiffly, “Is there a problem?”

Quietly I replied, “Pictures of the young are not permitted without permission from their elders. Would it be permissible for me to walk with them to the other side of the group until Mr. and Mrs. Hurkovskiy have their say one way or the other?”

The soldier seemed relieved that it was such an easy “fix” and I invited the boys to move closer to the center, away from the edge of the crowd our group formed thereby allowing the Russian security to fill in the space we left. I continued conversing with the boys, asking them how they were doing and about five minutes later the bus arrived that we would all be riding in. I shepherded the boys towards their grandparents and then waited politely to be noticed.

Apparently I had been under observation the entire time. Mrs. H, as I came to think of her, is a bit frosty but she’s an older and important woman in her own right. She was also a little irritated. To the boys she said, “Your tutor will not be joining us.”

The boys waited to hear what their fate would be. She looked to me and then after a hesitation said, “I am given to understand that you are both a tutor and … chaperone … for the older students that follow the Peace Mission.”

“Yes, Madam, that is so.” I didn’t correct her use of the term chaperone. I now know it was so her grandsons would continue to view the Russians that followed us as their primary security. I could tell she was waiting for something so I simply expedited the situation a bit after receiving a very minute nod from Vit who had already read my mind. “If it is permitted and not an imposition, I would consider it a privilege to travel today in your grandsons’ company. We can speak of our music if nothing else presents itself. If I am called on for translating, I will make sure that there is someone of your approval to take my place.”

“You … play?”

The head Russian on the B stepped over to say, “Indeed. Mrs. Dymtrus is a concert violinist. She has performed several times to the pleasure of us all. Her rendition of Katyusha filled my heart as if I was home hearing my dear daughter play it.”

That was a bit too much. “Ah, but Sir …”

“Nii, I will not let you hide your light. I will speak with your husband and it is my hope you will provide us an evening of entertainment once we are onboard our ship.”

What was I supposed to say? I nodded as if he had bestowed a huge compliment and when he walked away I turned back to Mrs. H as if to wait upon her permission.

Her lips twitched and she snorted revealing there was more humor to her than at first impression. She looked at her grandsons and with steel in her eye, “You know what I expect. I will have a report of your day tonight after dinner.”

“Yes Babushka.”

She gave them another look and said, “None of that. You’ll not charm me out of it.” The boys grinned even more broadly. She tried not to smile at their antics and shooed them … and me … to the bus where we waited in line to board.

“Please?” It was the liaison. “Do you mind using the rear doors? It will be easier and faster to get everyone on and off the bus during stops.”

It was a little warm in the back of the bus but I sat in the single seat next to the emergency exit and onboard restroom and the boys sat in front of me. One of the Russian security guards, the lone female, approached and handed me our itinerary and a small walkie-talkie. “In case we become separated.”

I caught something glinting through the window over her shoulder. I told the boys to duck down in their seat a moment. The guard looked and then spit, “Idiots.” To me she said, “There is no danger. We’ll handle this.”

She growled into her own communication device, “Those idiots from the university are back. They are in a brown sedan to your … yes, there.” She nodded to me and then said, “If you see anyone else, let me know.” I was to find out later they were “cub reporters” from one of the school newspapers that had yet to learn the that they were only allowed as much “democracy” as the government said they could have. Being as that is none of my business since Russia is not my country, I kept my mouth closed.

The boys apparently already knew what the day was supposed to hold so I quickly brought myself up to speed after checking with Vit, who sat closer to the front, to see if he had the information. He was trying to communicate that he was sorry we could not sit together but his attention was being sought. I later told him I hadn’t expected it. I was just happy to have some way to pass the time rather than riding with the luggage or sitting in a storage room at a hotel, both of which I had experienced while serving on a “detour.”
 

Kathy in FL

Administrator
_______________
Chapter 212 - Part 2

Our first stop was Manezh Square which was located near the Kremlin and the Alexander Garden. We got off the bus in preparation for a walking tour and I made sure Maksim and Mikhail new that me shadowing them was about my job and not about their maturity. “Should it need to be said.”

“Thank you Mrs. Dymtrus.”

“You’re very welcome. Let me know if I start droning on. I’m afraid the tutor in me is so ingrained I don’t always know when to turn it off. About like knowing when to stop playing before people fall asleep.”

That made them both chuckle and we got on quite well the remainder of the day.

From there we went to Aleksandrovskiy Sad, the first public park in Moscow. In English it is known as Alexander Garden and sits along the Kremlin’s western wall. Colorful flower beds and impressive Kremlin views make it a favorite strolling spot for Muscovites and tourists both. Back in the 17th century, the Neglinnaya River ran through the present gardens, with dams and mills along its banks. When the river was diverted underground, the garden took its place above ground in 1821. The garden is famous for its architectural monuments, incredibly beautiful flowerbeds, and history. Its purpose was to commemorate Russian victories and those that died in war of 1812 with Napoleon and now includes memorials for the dead of both World Wars.

Only a few steps on, Red Square - the most famous square in Moscow – is an architectural and historical monument, which, together with the Kremlin is an international symbol of the Russian capital. Red Square originated in the late 15th century. In 1493, to stop the constant fires, Ivan III ordered the area to be cleaned up and on the east side to arrange a big market. Fast forward to the 20th Century and Red Square gained notoriety for different reasons … as a monument to Soviet state values. It is also home to Lenin’s Mausoleum.

We used Vasilievsky Descent to get close to St. Basil's Cathedral, a symbol of Russia that has survived all of the changes since it was built in 1555–1561 by order of Ivan the Terrible in honor of the capture of the Kazan Khanate. The storming of Kazan began on October 1, 1552, on the Feast of the Protection of the Mother of God, therefore the “official” name of the temple is the Church of the Protection of the Mother of God. The cathedral is a symmetrical ensemble of eight churches surrounding the central church, topped with a tent. Each of the eight churches is named after the saint, on whose day this or that significant event of the Kazan campaigns of Ivan the Terrible took place. There are nine iconostases in the cathedral, in which there are about 400 icons of the 16th and 17th centuries.

I so wanted to take pictures, but it was not permitted, at least not by our group. Some tourists did take pictures but there were only certain spots that you could do it from. I also wanted pictures of Vit and I together. Who knows when we will ever come back to Russia and I want him to have good memories, not just those he struggles with from his childhood. I tried to visually memorize every location but also wanted postcards if I couldn’t have pictures. But that would have to wait.

We walked along the Kremlin Embankment, one of the most famous promenades in Russia. The walkway has been around a long time and had many different uses, mostly as a trade location though it tended to flood. We also took a turn on the Prechistenskaya Embankment, a beautiful waterfront area pm the left bank of the Moskva River. In ancient times the richest of the rich lived on the street. The main attraction of the waterfront is a magnificent church known as Christ the Savior. Christ the Savior Cathedral is the largest Russian Church and can fit ten thousand people. The current church (completed near the turn of the millennium) was built on the site of the original church once held. The original church was erected in honor of the victory over the Napoleonic army in 1812; however, it took almost forty-four years to build. In 1883, it was designated the highest building in Moscow and the largest church in Russia. In 1931 the original church was blown up by order of Stalin.

We’d been rushing from site to site so that I hadn’t realized it was close to lunch time. The boys were starving but seemed pleased to find out we would be eating lunch at a restaurant that specialized in Siberian cuisine. I must admit I was intrigued as well. I returned the boys to their grandparents and then stepped into the background to await whether I would be dining with the group or not.

I stood on the outside and was bumped from behind. You’ve got to be kidding me. Sloppy. Just sloppy. I grabbed the young man and had him out the door in less than five seconds. I looked at the female security guard who was outside and made a face. “Hang on. He dropped something in my pocket.”

While one security guard took charge of the protesting man Zoya said, “Allow me.” She reached into the pocket I was certain something had been dropped into and pulled out a small digital recorder that you could monitor from a distance.

Disdainfully I said, “You’ve scared off the real boogy men and only the idiots are left.”

“As you Americans say, ‘something like that.’ Good catch.”

I slipped back inside only to run into Vit. “A problem?” he asked gruffly.

“Not for me.”

“You will tell me later. For now let us sit and eat, breakfast was long ago.”

“I don’t want to cause you problems.”

“You have not and will not. Come sit.”

It was a bit intimidating to be pulled into a group of diplomats. I normally avoid them when at all possible. The detours I have been on have taught me that very few appreciate interacting with personnel. I was still figuring out my place in the group so remained quiet unless addressed directly. I was stoic but I tried to not put off bad vibes that would draw attention. And I succeeded. Besides the meal was enough to distract everyone.

The restaurant was a very interesting one. The interior looked straight out of a 19th century Russian novel. The menu was certainly interesting and authentically Siberian. Yak and meatballs of brown bear (minced meat of Sayan bear with cream cowberry sauce buckwheat and white mushrooms) were an accepted option. I was tempted but stuck to the day’s special since I wasn’t sure how the cost of meals were being covered. The appetizer was Polar Partridge Pate over toasted brown bread topped with a candied apple and my main dish was Venison with local berry and pine needle sauce. I stuck with rose hip tea sweetened with Siberian honey for my drink and I saw Mrs. H view it approvingly.

I found out during the meal that our next stop would be Izmailovsky Market. “You will find your postcards there,” Vit told me and then one of our diplomats – who no doubt heard from one of the students in his sphere – commented on my “collection.” It was embarrassing but I tried not to show it. I later found that people thought I was “humble” and “shy” which they found strange given my reputation as a security officer. I also later found out that my interactions with the “pirates” that had attempted to board the B mid-Atlantic, as well as the incident on the O’Meg, were common knowledge. Ugh. Is there no privacy anymore?

The boys were once again under my watch after our meal was over with. I was not happy with the huge crowds we faced at the market. I was freed of the boys when Mr. H called them over. I looked to find Vit who, seeing that I was now solo, nodded for me to come over. When I reached his side he whispered in our mish-mash private code that we’d been instructed to “spread some economic cheer” during this detour, to put on a good show.

“I know Kokhana. Your frugal heart balks but trust me on this.”

“On this? On all things.”

It was the right thing to say and I could feel a lessening of the stress through my hand on his arm. It was then that I realized Vit was struggling. Some of it was memories. Some of it was worry about the big picture. But some of it was also he was still figuring out why were brought on the detour since he was being treated more as a diplomatic staff member than his normal duties.

We were in the market for about an hour and by the time we left my head was spinning and my backpack full. Izmailovsky Market is the biggest flea market in Moscow and a souvenir mecca. It was also part arts and crafts fair. From Matryoshkas, to cheburashkas, Soviet paraphernalia, badges, winter shawls, fur hats, postcards, books, old electronics, watches, and the list would go on and on if I let it. I focused on postcards but also got an antique book of Russian folktales. Out of habit and without much thought I would stop and help when there was a language barrier … except for French. I could understand it of course but I explained I wouldn’t subject them to my rough pronunciation. We switched to Danish of all things and completed the transaction.

I heard someone ask Vit, “How many languages does your wife speak?”

When he answered them and then said I was also proficient in reading and writing most of those languages – I am still learning to the intricacies of Malay and Arabic script as opposed to the phonetic conversion – there was a brief silence. “Ah … yes … Baird prefers your wife over any translation device for final proofing of documents.”

The boys had overhead and asked, “How come you know so many?”

“Languages?” At their nod I answered, “I went to university at a large school with a diverse population of students. I found I had a talent for languages early, a roommate got me a job translating science journals, and the rest as they say is history.”

“But so many?”

“It keeps life interesting and keeps my skills marketable and useful.”

That gave them something to chew on and then Maksim, the bolder of the twins, asked, “What language would you like to learn next?”

“Hmm, I don’t know if it is a separate language, I understand there are differing views on the subject, but it is certainly a dialect that is new to me. I would enjoy learning Siberian. I thought some of the menu at the restaurant was fascinating.”

They looked at each other and said, “Tetka Esfir married a Siberian diplomat and we had to learn some so that we could speak to the workers when we visited.” I learned that “Tetka Esfir” was Mr. H’s daughter in law from a son who did not live long after the marriage but there was a child and Esfir insisted on remaining in contact with Mr. and Mrs. H even after she remarried.

The boys are conversationally proficient, or at least enough for their purposes, and we had fun as they “taught” me something new. To them teaching an adult was a new experience. “Nonsense, you teach them all the time with your music.” That gave them something to think about for sure.

When I purchased a number of Russian hair slide barrettes the boys laughed. “I have a lot of brats that all have wives.”
 

Kathy in FL

Administrator
_______________
Chapter 212 - Part 3

Vit snuck up on me and whispered, “Wise as well as beautiful.” I gave him a look that said so plainly to behave his naughtiness that it set a few people chuckling. I could feel my blush – I hadn’t meant to draw attention – and it made Vit grin fully for the first time that day. It was worth a little embarrassment and apparently helped others see us as a real couple and not just one of convenience which I suppose such rumors still persist a bit thanks to Ana Bosques’ continued occasional digs.

Vit’s purchases were definitely more expensive. He got a couple pieces of Gzhel Ceramics including an egg tray, a small pony figurine, and a couple of cups and saucers. Gzhel ceramics are the traditional white and blue that you see in many vintage collections. While I was looking at an inexpensive lace shawl in the Orenburg style for when I went to church, he came in behind me and bought several Russian shawls in traditional patterns. He said, “These are not for your sisters. You will have pretty things as well.” Oh my. He also purchased some Finift (enameled) brooches and an enameled orthodox cross that I made the mistake of allowing him to see me admire.

The last thing we did was stop at one of the food stands for kabobs. I have no idea how we could still eat after that lunch we had. If I had fallen down I would have rolled the rest of the day. The vintage cast iron grills the kebobs were cooked on were as interesting as everything else in the market. And then it was back on the walking tour and on to Our Lady of Smolensk Novodevichy Convent. The Novodevichy Convent is one of the key Orthodox complexes that played a crucial role in the history of religion and public life of Russia. It is also one of the most beautiful architectural monuments in the country, a true masterpiece of the 16th–17th centuries. The ancient, though still-active, Smolensky Cathedral of the convent, contains several important Orthodox relics.

I was fascinated to walk by Lomonosov Moscow State University (MGU), one of the oldest, largest and leading classical universities in Russia and the center of national science and culture. It was named in honor of Mikhail Vasilyevich Lomonosov in 1940. For 37 years, the Main Building of Moscow State University was been the tallest building in all of Europe and is still one of the tallest buildings in Moscow. It remains was of the best examples of Russian public building construction and is one of seven Stalinist skyscrapers (aka, the Seven Sisters). It is where Vit got his degree. Unlike my own time in university Vit was not happy in his. It was all work and survival while trying to put the memories of the mutiny behind him. I glanced at him a few times and he was very … stoic.

I sensed his stress level decline when we moved on and stopped near Poklonnaya Hill in Victory Park. This gently sloping hill was once located far outside Moscow. Now it is in the heart of the city as Moscow has grown phenomenally over the years. The view from the summit looked out over the city. It was on Poklonnaya Hill that Napoleon waited in vain to be gifted with the keys to Moscow. It was also from there that soldiers went to the front to defend Russia during WWII.

Another memorial to victory is the Triumphal Arch which was originally built between 1827-1834 in Tverskaya near the Belorussky Railway Station. It was moved and restored in 1968 to its current location on Kutuzov Avenue near the Poklonnaya Hill. The Triumphal Arch is decorated with six pairs of cast-iron columns, niches in which figures of Russian warriors are located, and above them are high reliefs depicting scenes of victory over the French, liberation of Moscow and others. Victory statues were erected above the eaves, and the chariot of Glory is located at the top of the arch with six beautiful, harnessed horses.

We next walked along Old Arbat street which has been a fully pedestrianized street for decades. The shops were full of tourists, but I noted the prices were not nearly as good as at Izmailovsky Market. But it wasn’t shopping that was our destination. We are staying at the Hotel Ukraine while in Moscow. It is also one of the original “Seven Sisters” of the Stalinist skyscrapers. When you think of Communist Soviet Union, and what the average worker went through simply to survive from day to day, walking into some of the soviet-era building used primarily by the elites is very jarring. I’ll have to describe the hotel tomorrow. I need to finish tonight’s entry and get some rest. Stoicism and constantly being on guard can be exhausting. There were no particular problems today but I felt like I had to watch my back (and Vit’s) at all times. And I’m still not sure what our purpose is for being here. We are being treated like diplomatic envoys. It is so odd.

We were shown to our room to allow us a few moments to freshen up. When we walked in I nearly walked out thinking there had been a mistake. Vit thought I was making a joke until I compared the room to the others that I’d had while on detours.

He growled, “Are any of the diplomats on this detour as well?”

“Nii,” I said looking at what I found hanging in the closet where I had gone to put our duffle bag. “Vit?”

He walked over and opened the envelope then read it aloud to me. “Don’t fuss you damn Cossack. I owe you and Veta more than I can repay and it weighs on me. Barney said this will suffice. If you need anything else charge it to me if you can or bring the receipts back and we’ll settle up then. Baird”

Clothes and accessories. Evening clothes for both of us – both formal and casual – as well as daytime necessities. We were to put off our Peace Mission uniform and dress more like the rest of the envoy. Vit’s wasn’t much different, but of course he dressed that way normally. My clothes were slacks and skirts, and folk blouses that were modest, for day time. For evening … ugh, I will wind up looking like a Russian mail order bride stereotype. I’ll do what I can to tone it down. There was also a make up case but thankfully it is primarily in neutral palette.

There wasn’t even time to get irritated or embarrassed by the fact that someone obviously thought I couldn’t dress myself. Vit changed into dark slacks and a white shirt … nearly duplicate to his preferred monochromatic regular wardrobe … with a matching jacket and shoes. And I into a pair of casual slacks and a peasant top with a sweater and scarf … and ankle boots (Yay! They were Skechers brand). I snarled at the make up case and for some reason Vit found it funny and was still chuckling as we left the room – with me wearing an appropriate layer of the war paint upon my face.

My appearance drew some surprised looks, but no one remarked on it. I, however, drifted over to Zoya and in a low voice told her, “I hope I didn’t create any problems today. My uniform was declared off limits.”

“Ah, that explains it. And no, there were no problems. But perhaps you will draw less attention.”

“I’d be invisible if I could get away with it,”

She cracked a brief but friendly smile and told me to retain the communication device “just in case and that Mr. and Mrs. H were pleased with the attention I was paying to their grandsons.

When Vit quizzed me about what I’d done I explained, “Good manners don’t cost and … frankly I understand the position she is in as a female security personnel. I also don’t want to offend any of the others. I’m following orders, not snubbing them. I am being caught between two worlds and I want neither to think that I offend the other intentionally.”

He nodded and it was only then that I realized a few of the other members of our group were eavesdropping. I gave Vit a “sweet” smile that promised retribution and he grinned back playfully. He whispered so no one else could hear this time, “The day is better with you near. I will sit with you and the terrors.”

“They’re not like that. Lots of energy yes, but well-behaved and they know how to keep it under control.”

“Hm, we will see. It has been a long day and we are going to be on the water.”

I wanted to ask him why he thought I didn’t know how to handle boys after all the practice I’ve had, but let it go. It had been a long day for Vit as well and I suspect he was merely looking for an excuse. I found out that it reminded him strongly of his previous service on the O’Meg and he wasn’t enjoying the attention.

We headed to the ship pier to take a seat on the open-air upper deck (others settled into one of the window-side seats in the fully heated lower saloon area) to enjoy a 2.5 hour Scenic River Cruise. I wondered to myself whether enjoyment was an order, but it turned out that it really wasn’t difficult to do so. Except for the fact I could not take pictures. Sigh. Our guide called the views of the embankment “incomparable.” They were certainly fine views including of the White House where the Russian Government is located. We floated down the Moskva river, passed Novodevichy Convent, the St Vasili Blazhenny Cathedral. the famous Kremlin walls and towers, Pokrovsky Cathedral, and the Cathedral of Christ the Savior. It really was lovely and Vit’s attention seemed to please Maksim and Mikhail a great deal. They didn’t preen exactly but they were proud of their accomplishments that they had earned on their own. They are only recently come to live with their grandparents. Their mother remarried again and it is easier to keep to their studies living in Moscow full time.

A bit of gossip is that their newest step-father was a notorious oligarch, years older but without children of his own to inherit his fortune. That is what the twins’ mother will provide. She’s barely in her 30s, this is her fourth marriage (the first two husbands died), and quite beautiful. The rest I will leave up to the writers of soap operas.

One of the reasons that I am so tired is because instead of returning to the hotel, we were taken by bus to dinner. Dinner at a 700-year-old monastery in the heart of Moscow. Yes, you read that correctly. It was beautiful. And again I could not take pictures. However, I had a surprise that I’ll explain in a moment.

First, we walked to the bell tower to see the world's only ceramic iconostases. An iconostases is a wall of icons and religious paintings, separating the nave from the sanctuary in a church. Iconostasis also refers to a portable icon stand that can be placed anywhere within a church. It was very awe-provoking for me. At the top of the bell tower we enjoyed the sunset illuminating Moscow’s rooftops. From there we had walked down and had a very traditional Russian meal served in what was the monks' refectory. As we dined there were storytellers that told about the monastery’s history and also of ancient Russia. Vasily the third, Peter the Great and Napoleon Bonaparte all walked the steps in this monastery for one reason or another. The dinner was delicious and consisted of soups, salads, stews, breads, and desserts of bakery items, all freshly prepared and baked within the monastery walls.

I don’t know about the others but Vit and I were a bit overwhelmed, each for our own reasons. We’ve both travelled the world, but this was a bit like coming “home.” But that was also the problem. For Vit it was an affirmation that “you can never go home again” and for me? It was an affirmation that my home is where Vit is and where he is is no longer Russia. We will enjoy our time here in memory of our “roots,” but Vit admits that he was better welcomed and loved in Pembroke, even with the problems we faced, than he ever remembers being in “Mother Russia.” But we were very quiet when we spoke of such things, even though it was in the shower.

Vit does not feel any ill-intent by any in the party, to the contrary he is being strangely welcomed almost as an equal, or at least as one that has earned his place. I am still not certain, neither of us are, exactly what the purpose is for us to be along. We will continue to be cautious. It might not even be the machinations of anyone in the group, but of someone watching from afar. I know Vit has worries regarding the man Mitkin. I will remain aware and flexible should something come up. It is so tiring. I need to get to bed. Tomorrow we remain in Moscow. My sense is that we are being both shown off and shown around so that they can show off. For now, those in control find us useful for this purpose. That could change in a heartbeat.

Ah, and before I forget, the “surprise” I was given? There was a media specialist through out the day who will remain with us for the entire detour. At the end we will receive a memory device with a collection of videos and pictures that have been reviewed to make sure there are no disallowed content and locations. Now stop writing Veta, it is time to sleep.
 

Kathy in FL

Administrator
_______________
Everything up to and including Chapter 215 has seen the light of day. Everything after Chapter 215 has never been published. I don't know how far I will get tonight. Have a Monday in the middle of the week and it sucks, but I will get something up and I may start moving over the next story. Don't know yet. I've got one of "those" headaches and Cola and Alieve are just not kicking it yet ... suuuucks. If the barometer doesn't stop messing around this hen is going to throw a hissy.
 

Kathy in FL

Administrator
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Chapter 213: Aug 27 - Moscow (1) - Part 1

If Russia is “a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma” as Winston Churchill famously said, then Moscow presents an intriguing starting point for an amazing cultural discovery, or so say the travel books I have read. It also can be just as irritating as any other big city. By and large the people I have met are nice – not the scary bad guys that popular literature and media paints them to be – but there are some that need to be dumped down a dry well and capped over. In other words, they exhibit the same tendencies as people in every other country of the world. And, just like every other country I have thus far visited, it tends to be the political class that cause the “stray hares” that cause the world to rotate sideways on occasion.

The day started well despite my lack of sleep and stress yesterday. I dressed in a conservative black pencil skirt, a black-on-black embroidered blouse, and a black blazer. I know I looked a bit like a crow, but I was trying to dress modestly since I had thought I would be chaperoning the twins.

I looked for the boys when I came down for breakfast, but instead Mr. and Mrs. H’s clerk came to me and said, “You are looking for Maksim and Mikhail yes?

“Yes.”

“Their mother arrived late last evening, and they will be spending time with her for the remainder of our time here in Moscow.”

Trying to be polite and not show my personal disappointment I said, “Being with family is a good thing.”

“Yes. Thank you for understanding.”

I startled her when I said, “It is my privilege to do so.”

I turned only to find that Vit had already been called to join the diplomats. I was trying to determine what to do when Zoya approached me and asked if I had a moment to translate some travel documents. “Some” turned into quite a stack and I ate a cabbage and apple pie while I nearly dropped kicked the cantankerous old translator that the security had at their disposal. The one they were using yesterday had been “reassigned” for some reason.

“I will see if I have permission to help with any other translations today,”

Obviously relieved she walked off with the translations.

“You did not eat breakfast?” Vit asked me a moment later having come looking for me.

I stuffed the last bite of the pie in my mouth – it reminded me a bit of an empanada – and asked, “Whatever gave you that idea?”

His lips thinned.

My joke had obviously missed the mark. I told him, “I ate. You saw me eat. I missed a cup of tea, but I did eat. It was simply … um … on the hoof. The translator that is available today is out of the dark ages.”

I didn’t know if he was angry at me or simply angry in general but whatever it was he got called back to discuss some bit of naval engineering and our group headed to the bus which would take us to the Iberian Gate and Chapel, also known as the Resurrection Gate, which is the main entrance to Moscow's Red Square. The gate connects to both Moscow City Hall and the State Historical Museum and is the only gate of the Kitai-Gorod.

Erected in 1535, this red-brick gate connects the north-western end of Red Square with Manege Square. The Iberian Virgin is well-known for its miraculous abilities. Local legend says that blood flowing from the icon’s face caused a war to end. It is also said that even members of the imperial family would visit the icon and pray alongside their subjects when they traveled to Moscow. In 1680, two-story chambers and an icon of the resurrection were added to the gate. A gilt angel and cross were added to the dome of the chapel at an even later date. The chapel is home to a replica of the icon of Panaghia Portaitissa, an Eastern Orthodox representation of Virgin Mary. Many miracles have been attributed to people praying in front of this icon. In 1931, the Kremlin demolished the gate and chapel in order to make more room for military parades. In 1994, the gate and chapel were reconstructed.

After the gate we moved on to the Kremlin and Kremlin Armory. The Kremlin is an historic complex and an important landmark in Moscow. It is famous for its citadels called kremlins, hence the name. The complex consists of eight cathedrals and palaces surrounded by the Kremlin Wall. The Moscow Kremlin complex is also the official President's residence when he visits Moscow. The Armory, established in 1808, is one of the oldest museums in Moscow. The museum's initial mission was to produce and store weapons. It now houses a large collection of treasures of the Golden and Silver chambers of the Russian Tsars. The museum also houses a unique collection of Russian jewelry called the Diamond Fund, and many other artifacts representative of Russian culture. Every cabinet and case in the museum contains a piece of Russian history, from Alexander the Great's boots to crowns, jewels and gem-encrusted items, splendid costumes, royal coaches, religious artifacts, state gifts, a beautiful Fabergé display and a nearly endless list of additional valuables. Vit was happy to see me picking out many post cards as well as a couple of books so that we could have memories of what all we had seen.

I thought I had once again found my niche when one of the Russian diplomats’ wives hesitantly asked if I would help her with her English. She was about my age but had an other worldly beauty that a blind man would have been awed by. Her husband was years older than she and he hadn’t chosen her for her education but for other assets … like her family connections and the fact that all of her older sisters had also “married well” and had several healthy children each, most of them boys. She told me all of this so matter of factly I struggled to hide my personal opinion.

I saw no harm in in but I’m no fool regardless of how I sometimes miss obvious signs. My eyes strayed to Mrs. H, the senior female in the Russian envoy, and when she realized I was asking her permission she gave me a gracious nod. That out of the way I looked toward the Sr. Russian envoy from the B and he gave me a nod as well. Both bases covered without making a fuss, I had a nice time and realized the woman wasn’t quite as light in intellect as she played at being. She seemed surprised to be treated like she had more than two brain cells to rub together and then became even more eager for “help with her English.”

Our next stop was the Russian Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. The US is not the only country that has a similar monument. Italy is another as is Greece. Situated near the Kremlin Wall, The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier is a monument, erected in honor of the Soviet soldiers who died in WW2, also known in Russia as the Great Patriotic War (1941-1945). The central feature of this memorial is a platform made up of big red granite tiles.

I was shocked to be called upon to place flowers at the tomb. I don’t know whether it is an attempt to embarrass me or not. The Priest did not know what to say either. I surprised him when I placed the flowers and whispered a prayer I had learned in letters from my uncle the priest and in Russian, “O God of spirits and of all flesh, Who hast trampled down death and overthrown the Devil, and given life to Thy world, do Thou, the same Lord, give rest to the souls of Thy departed servants in a place of brightness, a place of refreshment, a place of repose, where all sickness, sighing, and sorrow have fled away. Pardon every transgression which they have committed, whether by word or deed or thought. For Thou art a good God and lovest mankind; because there is no man who lives yet does not sin, for Thou only art without sin, Thy righteousness is to all eternity, and Thy word is truth. For Thou are the Resurrection, the Life, and the Repose of Thy servants who have fallen asleep, O Christ our God, and unto Thee we ascribe glory, together with Thy Father, who is from everlasting, and Thine all-holy, good, and life-creating Spirit, now and ever unto ages of ages. Amen.” It is a Prayer for the Departed from the Orthodox Church of America. Despite the seriousness of the situation, it was rather fun to watch his face when he asked my name and I gave it to him … all of them. After the surprise I saw the twinkle in his eyes as he nodded me away and back to the rest of the group.

From there we went to another solemn edifice, Lenin’s Mausoleum, the final resting place of the former Russian Marxist activist Vladimir Lenin which is located in the Red Square by the Kremlin Wall. Almost immediately after Lenin’s death in 1924, the Russian people decided that a simple burial would not do. In response to the thousands of telegrams received urging the regime to preserve Lenin’s memory for future generations, the government began the task of constructing a proper resting place for the former radical. The first resting place for Lenin was a wooden tomb constructed by architect Aleksei Shchusev in 1929. The wooden tomb was eventually replaced with one made out of stone. One of the most interesting facts about the mausoleum is the care taken to preserve Lenin’s corpse. Long rumored to be a wax model, the truth is that it is indeed Lenin that mausoleum visitors will see. A special and complicated embalming process helps to keep the body presentable to the public. An interesting side note about Lenin’s tomb is that Joseph Stalin was briefly interred near Lenin until the government buried Stalin in the Kremlin Wall Necropolis during its de-Stalinization period. No photography, video or audio recording of any kind is allowed in the mausoleum. I was more than slightly startled to find I would have to endure a physical search by staff before entry. I did my best to keep my face stoic despite my distaste. We all did. Making it even more imperative is the fact that visitors are expected to show respect during their visit and none of the Peace Mission wished to lose face.

Finally it was time for lunch in Korchma Mokhovaya (Ukrainian traditional cuisine). With Maksim and Mikhail no longer in the party and Vit invited to dine with a select group, I found that I must dine on my own. At first I tried to join Zoya and the other Russian security personnel but there was a social barrier I could not cross. Instead I sat at a table in the back and worked on translations while I ate a business lunch for one. It wasn’t a bad lunch, simply a lonely one where I felt ostracized and I wasn’t sure why.

The food at least was delicious. First came the restaurant’s signature Vinaigrette Salad: Beets, potatoes, beans, carrots, sauerkraut, onions, sunflower oil. Next was the soup; a Lean Sorrel Borsch with sorrel, potatoes, onion, carrots, tomatoes, homemade sour cream. The main dish was homemade stuffed cabbage rolls. Rather than a liquor I was served a homemade cherry fruit drink which is quite common in Russia. Vit was outraged when he found out the other women in our party did not invite me to join them.

“Please do not worry at it,” I asked quietly to avoid notice. “I didn’t expect this to be anything other than it is.”

“Why?” he asked. His tone was odd and I could swear he was almost sullen.

“Because this is the way it was for me on other detours. Yesterday was an aberration. Today is normal.”

He gave me a look of surprise then something I was unable to identify. “It was always this way?”

I shrugged. “Except when I had students to tend but again, that was not normally the case. Do not let it bother you.”

This time I read anger but it was definitely not at me as he was having to work too hard not to look daggers at some of the others in the party. “How can it not?” he asked.

Saying what I thought to be obvious I answered, “Because it shouldn’t. Even on the B I do not socialize except for those in your set. You know that.”

He looked both thoughtful and troubled but there is no time for more discussion, and useless discussion at that. It is what it is. I only hoped he wasn’t trying to design some type of change in my circumstance. With him nearby it is not nearly as uncomfortable as it could have been. I simply put it down to politics and refused to let it bother me.

At the request of some of the Russian diplomats we stopped briefly at the Coffee in the O2 bar for iconic views of the Kremlin and the City … and the coffee of course. I drank what was handed to me rather than be rude but it was stronger than I ever drink it by choice; what Charlie would call used engine oil in texture and taste. I saw Vit try and hide a grimace then look over to see me doing my best to find a place to surrepticiously dispose of gritty and harsh brew. He stepped over to me and we switched cups – he’d finished his – and at his first sip he turned his head and said, “Not even Yegor could stomach this slop. I will get you …”

“Nii,” I whispered. “Just help me get rid of it please. It appears we are about to head out.”

Since I wasn’t really privy to the day’s itinerary I was a little confused why we were going into the Ritz Carlton but then we went to the top and I saw it was for the views. Most everyone got another coffee, but I got a Sea Buckthorn Tea. The tea is very healthy and quite common in Moscow. I had wanted to go to the ladies room but one of the liaisons asked me to explain a translation I made. It was problematic because the words were translating literally rather than what the intent was. The confusion was easily cleared up, but it was time to leave by then.
 

Kathy in FL

Administrator
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Chapter 213 - Part 2

Our next stop was the Bolshoi Theater, a place I have always dreamed of going. The orchestra was taking a lunch break and we had leave to look around. I stood in the wings using my imagination and was caught red handed by one of the Russian clerks.

“You play?”

“Yes. But I beg pardon if I am holding everyone up.”

I tried to step away, there was something in the man’s eyes I didn’t care for and Vit was some distance away. From behind his back he pulled a rather scruffy violin case. The violin that came out of it was even scruffier and was painted several odd color combinations and designs. I refused to make a scene after the “pile on” asking me to play. Vit still did not know what was going on as he was in conversation with several diplomats back towards the entrance into the theater.

Trying not to draw an excess of attention I played Bach’s Partita for Violin Solo No. 1 in B Minor but as always I got lost in the music. When I was finished I addressed the violin and said, “You my friend have a lot of hidden talent under all of that character you wear.”

I was returning the violin to its case when a big bear of a man approached me with lust in his eyes. I’m not making that up. I didn’t have to decide how to act or which direction to run because Vit was there and growled, “Jasha.”

“Ah … Vit! It has been a while!”

Vit merely grunted.

“You will introduce me, yes?”

“I will introduce you, no.” He turned to me and said, “Come, wife.” I nearly barked like a trained spaniel but didn’t feel it would helpful to be that kind of snarky with an overprotective and jealous Cossack on my hands.

The man stepped in front of Vit and said, “You have new friends these days. You will introduce me to them as well, yes.”

“No.”

“I can perhaps … persuade you.”

“No. You cannot. And you can tell that to your friends, especially Mitkin.”

The man Jasha gave the truth away by being surprised at being caught out.

Vit added, “People that claim friends with Mitkin have a way of getting buried. By Mitkin himself and his enemies. And he has made many enemies who have grown tired of him. Be careful Jasha or perhaps you will experience a fall as well.”

Vit very intentionally looked at the other staffers that had tried to create a situation. To help him identify the main culprit I returned the violin to the man who had given it to me. “Thank you. It is amazing what can be uncovered with a little thought put into action.” I let him think what he would but definitely put the man on my enemies list.

I received a few interesting looks from others in the party but I had played my part well and a scene had not been created that would force some of them to notice that would have made things even more uncomfortable than they had already been.

The next stop on what was feeling like a whirlwind tour to showcase the greatness of Moscow was the Monument of Peter the Great. Designed by Zurab Tsereteli, the Peter the Great Statue commemorates 300 years of the Russian Navy's start by Peter I. The statue has a height of 94 meters and is famous for being the seventh tallest statue in the world.

Then came Gorky Park is an amusement park across the Moscow River named in honor of Maxim Gorky. The Park covers an area of 300 acres of land where children's playgrounds, carousels and old buildings from the late 18th and early 19th centuries are displayed. The Park also houses the so-called Graveyard of Fallen Monuments, which represents a collection of old Soviet statues.

I noted that several of the older women in the party were starting to droop regardless of how they tried to hide it. The liaisons were letting everyone know that the next activity was the last one before dinner. We stopped at Bunker-42, a Cold War Museum. “Bunker 42" was constructed in 1955 as a command post of Strategic nuclear forces of Soviet Union. We walked down a stairway consisting of 290 steps and 12 floors to give us a feel of the depth of the bunker. We were guided through the bunker's exhibition hall, where we were told about the purpose of the bunker and its communication facilities. We were supposed to realize how the facility could protect from all the factors of atomic explosion and feel the seriousness of nuclear world war risk but I simply felt mildly claustrophobic, especially when they started with the special effects – an imitation of a nuclear bomb explosion and nuclear missile launch.

We were separated into two groups once we returned to the hotel and I was much relieved to find that Vit had refused to be separated from me as he had been earlier at nearly every turn. It was a foodie type walking tour which skipped the tourist spots and took us instead to local favorites, including those in the Ysachevskii food market. I was definitely all in and lunch seemed long ago and Vit finally started relaxing though I knew him to be watching our surroundings closely. We tried such regional treats as smoked lard, red caviar, and Russian honey. We also learned about the culinary heritage of the former USSR. Other dishes were from Uzbekistan and Dagestan regions as well as former Soviet delicacies: Abkhazia tangerines, Caucasian curd, and Uzbek pilaf. Finally it was back to the hotel for the remainder of the evening.

The hotel looks like something out of 1960s/70s spy novel. Very vintage décor. It was pretty but the wallpaper on the wall was the kind of jarring you could only find in some 60s and 70s retro-style architectural magazines. I’m not sure what “style” you would call the furniture. Like a blonde French Provincial but yet not that frou-frou. And all the coverings in the room were done in gold velveteen. The carpet was gold shag. No, I’m not kidding. And the shag was so long both Vit and I have nearly tripped multiple times. But the mattress was comfortable and had a pillow topper. You never realize how bad your regular mattress is until you lay on something better. And the room wasn’t small either; 366 sq ft. Our window looked out over the cityscape and at night the view was even more amazing with Red Square and the Kremlin lit up. The bathroom, by European standards, was huge and definitely luxurious with all modern plumbing and fixtures and tile on nearly every surface. Definitely European in other ways as well as there was a toilet and a separate bidet. I contrasted this with the little hotel room Frankie and I shared those first days in London and … I admit I was a little nostalgic. But also thankful that the shower was large enough for Vit and I to share.

I re-read the words I used at the beginning of this journal entry and admit that I’m a little ashamed of myself. Or perhaps not ashamed precisely, but I am irritated at myself. Not because the sentiment I expressed isn’t true, but because I allowed myself to lose my cool as Devin would say. That won’t be happening again. I will not allow someone to dictate my behavior. If I let them see they can push my buttons that gives them knowledge and power to do it again … and again and again. When I was younger Angelia used to say, “Talk to the hand.” I never quite understood but think I do now.

Vit feels somewhat the same way though he was more successful in his stoicism. The man Jasha was someone that Vit had met during his term in university. They were never friends, but they had never been enemies until Mitkin made a point of cultivating the younger Jasha. Several times there were rumors of there being “near incidences” … accusations of cheating, dates that stood Vit up, etc and so forth … and in the end they always led back to Jasha. Until Vit started using their tactics against them. Jasha had to switch from the mathematics department to music. The man is technically a good player, but he will never be first chair and it grates on him.

Either way, we will be wary of being separated as we were multiple times today – perhaps intentionally, perhaps not – and will also not allow such irritations as Jasha to control our behavior. We are in control of us, not the other way around.
 

Kathy in FL

Administrator
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Chapter 214: Aug 28 - Moscow (2)

Everyone was up early for a final breakfast at the hotel. This time Vit stayed close and refused to allow us to be placed at separate tables. I caught a few irritated glances, quickly hidden, but not from people I expected. As a matter of fact I was given a few encouraging ones from a couple I didn’t expect as well.

After breakfast and out of habit I made sure that everyone had their luggage packed, tagged, and ready. Vit looked on indulgently and a couple of men said something but somehow or other they were left smiling. I knew they likely thought it a joke and tried not to be irritated by the testosterone wafting around. Vit seemed to know exactly what I was thinking and turned it into a joke on them. “My industrious wife,” he said like a caress but I did notice the slight emphasis on “my” and nearly rolled my eyes.

I was already slightly irritated. I’d done my best to take the pieces of the “wardrobe” I was given and make something modest out of it that will not set me apart or make me look like a piece of Ukrainian “arm candy.” I wonder what on earth could Barney have possibly been thinking given the choices. I wound up wearing a pair of black slacks, a black business shirt, a Russian pattern scarf, the ankle boots, and a forest green coat. Vit insisted on being the one to take the backpack and I took a large messenger bag-style purse instead. Today was to be every bit as hectic as yesterday with the added diversion of a market stop.

Our first stop after breakfast was Ostankino Tower, currently the tallest free-standing structure in Europe and 11th tallest in the world. Standing at 1,772 ft tall, it was built to mark the 50th anniversary of the October Revolution. Construction began on the tower in 1963 but wasn’t completed until 1967. The tower has 3,544 stairs, an elevator that can take 13 people to the top of the tower in less than a minute and weighs 55,000 tons. A fire in 2000 almost caused the tower to fall and did result in its restaurant, the rotating and glass-walled Seventh Heaven, to become permanently closed despite several attempts to reopen in. Three people died in the fire and there are rumors that the area is haunted. Another fire, this one in 2007, resulted in less damage and no deaths but the reputation remains. Fearless visitors can still enjoy the glass floor on a limited basis and long wait lines. What makes a trip to the tower worth the wait is being able to see Moscow in its entirety.

I will say visitors should be prepared for high security, including a passport(s) check. Young children are not permitted on the tour at all, and older ones need the same type of identity documents as an adult. As with all tall structures, check the weather forecast first: bad weather means bad views. We also were given a technical tour where we went inside the interior of the tower structure to see how it is constructed.

The next site was also remarkably interesting, Monument to the Conquerors of Space. The monument, created in 1964 to celebrate the achievement of Soviet space pioneers, is a 350-foot-tall titanium monument that is shaped like the exhaust spiral of a rocket. Located near the All-Russia Exhibition Center, the simplicity is what makes what would otherwise be a utilitarian design into a beautiful tribute. Both sides of the monument are decorated with people who helped to make the space program happen and that includes scientists, workers, and Laika the first space dog. There is a poem that speaks of conquering darkness that is very moving.

The Central Pavilion, also known as Pavilion №1, is another site on today’s list. It is in a wedding-cake style, 97-meters high, and decorated with gold-plate. It is an excellent representation of Russian classical architecture. Before the fall of the Soviet Union, a statue of Vladimir Lenin used to stand in front of the pavilion. But the enormous building has undergone several renovations, including the last in 2018.

Next up, Friendship of Nations Fountain. Beautiful. It is a display of 16 statues that represent the former member nations of the of former Soviet Union (that’s a lot of “former”). Russia, Armenia, Ukraine, Belarus, Uzbekistan, Lithuania, Latvia, Tajikistan, Estonia, Turkmenistan, Moldavia, Georgia, Kirghizstan, Azerbaijan and Kazakhstan. The 16th country, Karelo-Finnish SSR, was incorporated back into Russia in 1956. Also known as the People's Friendship Fountain, it is located in the plaza near the Russia Exhibition Centre. The fountain was constructed in 1950s, each bronze and gold-plated maiden is a female wearing the national dress of their country. The figures form a circle around a wheat sheaf made of gold-plated copper sheet. The bowl that encircles the monument is made of red granite and is powered by eight pumps. Eight hundred jets spray water in an ever-changing display.

And then came what many were apparently waiting for. The Danilovsky Market. It is a food market where we spent two and a half hours. We sampled things that were sour, spicy, cheesy and sweet. The first thing was Russian honey served with herbs and berries. Next it’s on to appetizers like fresh cheeses and curd from the Caucasian region. Up next, juicy tangerines from Abkhazia and apples from the gardens around the city. Then it was on to two that I’d already tasted; smoked lard and red caviar from the island of Sakhalin. A kitchenette allowed us to taste toffees, jars of pickles, and homemade jams. In particular we were encouraged to taste the secret cure to every Russian’s hangover, salty cucumbers and sauerkraut. After the salty, a Kvas or fruit-drink curbed our thirst. Next we headed to an area for dishes from Uzbekistan and Dagestan, pilaf and chudu (scones) with cheese or pumpkin, finishing off with tea and pies. Vit nearly had to roll me to the metro though he seemed very happy to have witnessed me eating so much.

Next came a local shop where all I asked to pick up was Sea Buckthorn Fruit Powder and some Russian chocolate. I hadn’t been paying attention and tonight Vit presented me with a malachite jewelry set. He seemed quite pleased and if I am honest, so am I. The green stones are gorgeous and thankfully not that expensive. Vit was happy he bought me jewelry and I was happy that the jewelry wasn’t prohibitively expensive.

We had a few more stops - Patriarch Bridge with panoramic views of Kremlin, the Kremlin cathedrals (Assumption, Annunciation, and Archangel Michael), Red October artistic cluster on Prechistenka Street – and then it was on to our accommodations for the remainder of the “detour.” A canal boat.

I was following Vit down the hall and he stopped in front of a cabin and used the key we had been issued to open the door. I nearly ran into his back when he stopped suddenly. “Vit?”

I could barely see around him but I sensed he was looking at the key card and into the room. “Vit?”

He slowly entered and I followed wondering what was wrong. Until I saw what had stopped him. Surprisingly Vit and I have a cabin that is nicer than we expected. Vit doesn’t know whether to be suspicious or gracious until he stepped over to the fruit basket that had been left on the bed. He snorts at a card he finds then said, “Baird.”

“Mr. Baird?”

“He paid for an upgrade. And check the closet. It would appear he wants to add to our consequence. This is to be more of a luxury gathering than they let on.”

I winced as I stepped over, wondering what Barney ordered this time. But when I opened the closet, the note wasn’t from Barney but from Sofia. “Stop worrying and have some fun. And no, there are no plaids or kilts.”

At my chuckle Vit read over my shoulder. He asked suspiciously, “Kilts?”

I giggled this time at the look on his face. “Let’s just say Barney’s … er … taste is …”

But, by the look on his face, I didn’t have to explain to Vit. We just barely had time to clean and then dress for dinner. And I am too tired to write much more than to say that I am very glad that Sofia picked the outfits that she did or I could see being too ashamed to be seen with Vit. I would have looked … never mind. I am glad that Mr. Baird caught the prank before I had to suffer. Or the consequence of the Peace Mission suffered because our consequence was lacking. Who knows what comes tomorrow?
 

Kathy in FL

Administrator
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Chapter 215: Aug 29 – Uglich, Russia

This morning we started out on the Moscow Canal, a canal that connects the Moskva River with the Volga River. While cruising through the canal we got our first glimpse of rural Russia on our way to the quiet and historic town of Uglich. I asked Vit, “Do you remember any of this?”

“Nii. I was only in big cities or at sea. Not even with Baird did I travel back this way. Do you …?”

“No. Nothing. I remember remembering but … but it’s all gone now.”

“Shhh. You were nothing but a baby when you left.”

“Part of me doesn’t feel like I have ever left. And part of me feels like … like I should not be here now.”

We were in our cabin looking out the window. We were both having a bit of an adjustment reaction to what we were seeing slip by the ship as it made its way to the Volga.

“Are you … sorry?” he asked.

I shook my head. “But … but this isn’t home no matter how much a corner of my heart would like it to feel that way.”

He put an arm around me. “Veta … my love … “

I turned into him and said, “Home is where you are Vit.”

He grunted then said, “The connection I thought I would feel, that I worried I would feel, is broken. It is as you say, part of me wishes it was different but nii, you are my home not this place.”

It was time to head to breakfast but neither one of us had much of an appetite.

# # # # #

Our port today was Uglich, a historic town located on the banks of the Volga River in the Yaroslavl region. It is called a Golden Ring city, is almost 1000 years old, and was the setting of many important events in Russian history. During the reign of Ivan the Terrible in the 16th century, Uglich was prosperous both politically and economically. Yet after the Tsar's death, Dmitry Ivanovich who was the youngest son, was sent into exile to Uglich in 1584 leading to the most renown event in the city's history. On May 15, 1591, the 10-year-old prince was found dead with his throat cut in the courtyard of the palace. Since he was the last descendant of the Rurik Dynasty, his death had put a start to Russia's political and dynastic crisis called the Time of Troubles.

Later the Romanov Tsars turned Uglich into a place of pilgrimage and built the Church of St. Dmitry-on-Blood in 1690 on the location of the young prince’s murder. The church still stands to this day and is well-recognized for its unique exterior of red walls and blue domes. Situated on the banks of the Volga River, it is part of the Kremlin ensemble, along with the Spaso-Preobrazhensky Cathedral. Among the town's other highlights are the 17th-century Alexeevsky monastery, considered to be one of the oldest ones in Russia, and the golden-domed Resurrection monastery. Another point of interest is the Uglich Hydropower Engineering Museum, providing information about the Uglich Dam and compelling stories of how it was built.

For part of our party we were given a walking tour of Church of St. Dmitry on the Blood. It is on the banks of the Volga River and our guide told us was first mentioned in chronicles from 1148. Our guide spoke fast and prolifically. The history of the city is full of many events, so many I can’t remember all he mentioned, but the one that stood out was of course the death of Crown Prince Dimitri, which still has many mysteries surrounding it.

The onion domes of the colorful churches in the area are done in greens, blues, and silver. Like other Golden Ring cities, it was founded in the Middle Ages and played a major role in regional trade and politics in the 16th century, but it is chiefly known for the death of Prince Dmitry, the 10-year-old son of Ivan the Terrible whose murder was blamed on Boris Godunov. Inside the church was magnificent frescoes dating from the 1700s and icons from the 17th and 18th centuries, painted by the finest imperial icon artists.

I was surprised at the number of tourists browsing through the local shops and strolling along the promenade. I stepped inside the Assumption Church, an outstanding example of 16th-century Russian Orthodox architecture, to get out of the crowds and came out to find a note left for me that the other women had chosen to return to the ship to freshen up for a bit. Having been in their company long enough I realized “freshen up” was a euphemism for taking the first drinks of the day. I wondered if Vit was doing the same but realized he must still be at the hydropower plant, being suitably impressed. The Museum of Hydropower Engineering is the former NKVD administrative building.

I was left to wander the local shops. Sigh. I made a mistake of doing more than window shopping and went into one shop and fell in love with a 10-piece nested doll set that shows the Fire Bird fairytale. I had my debit card with me and yes, it worked. I have decided I will not do that again, at least not without talking it over with Vit first. I felt a little silly going back on board and through security where it was completely taken apart to check for any contraband. Did I mention that it was made up of 10 nested dolls. Taking them apart was bad enough but they simply handed them back to me in a tray after they went through the scanner and I had to put them back together before heading to the cabin.

I was nearly done when Vit came back on board. He comes over to see if there is a problem and I whisper the facts. He merely pats my shoulder and helps me to complete putting the dolls back together. Then in a mischievous voice he said, “At least you will not have to put these back in order.”

He hands me two lacquered eye glass cases. “Oh Vit! They’re beautiful!”

“Now you will stop worrying that the zipper broke on the other you have?”

My cheeks were red I’m sure but I really was pleased. I’d forced myself to not buy one very similar to the ones that he had purchased because, yet, the zipper had broken on the bag I had been keeping my spare glasses in.

I suspect I overheard something I wasn’t meant to when the man didn’t realize I spoke both Russian and Ukrainian as well as several other languages. “Your woman is easily pleased.”

“Yes, she married me didn’t she?”

It was a joke but I wasn’t pleased and I took time before dressing for dinner to show Vit just how pleased I was with the gift … but more so with him.

He kissed me. “I did not mean for you to hear that. I was not … how do you say … fishing for compliments.”

“Whether you were or weren’t is beside the point. I don’t want you to ever wonder again.”

He sighed. “I should never have doubted.” He shook his head the asked, “How did you do this alone? This ‘detour’ seems to be without purpose.”

“I was never really part of the … “ I shrugged. “Main party, or what have you. I enjoyed when I played chaperone with the sisters, even the partial day I spent with the young brothers on this detour, but otherwise … there was not much pleasant about it. I would have preferred being home with you … I mean on the B in our cabin, doing my normal job. Oh botheration. You know what I mean don’t you?”

“Yes Kokhana. I too would prefer returning to the B and being ‘crew’ rather than whatever this is I am being asked to be. And I do not like this separating. I am constantly looking over my shoulder and,” he sighed. “I worry about your safety. I had begun to find equilibrium until Jasha showed his ugly face and I saw the game that was being played.”

“He’s not very good is he?”

“You did not find him charming?”

I made such a face that Vit finally laughed and said we should avoid being late. “Who knows what our diplomats will get up to if there is no one to witness it?”

“They are not ‘my’ diplomats. They belong to the Peace Mission and they should remember it. These games need not be played. We are supposed to be working for everyone’s good.”

Vit nodded and we finally took our leave of the cabin. And dinner was nearly as tedious as I thought it was going to be. It was lightened by some wonderful music but that is all I can say. This nonsense is tiring and Vit is telling me that the bed is very comfortable which is his way of saying we should rest while we can. I agree.
 

Kathy in FL

Administrator
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Chapter 216: Aug 30 - Yaroslavl, Cruising Lake Rybinsk

It is so odd, this position Vit and I find ourselves in. Vit says we must enjoy what we can but not let too many of our real thoughts show on our faces or in our demeanor. I agree and explained to him once again that aloof was the only way I could function when on detour unless I was dealing directly with students or superiors.

“Kokhana … I never …”

“We’ve dealt with our misunderstandings … on both sides. I could have explained instead of assuming. The same for you. We’ve learned that lesson. Let’s not beat ourselves up over it any longer. Let’s simply not repeat that particular mistake.”

In some distaste he said, “There will be others. I find I am …”

“Vit. Please.”

He finally nodded and we kissed, tasting the rather odd toothpaste after taste from the Dollar Store brand that I’d picked up. It was ginger and mint. Thankfully the combination of flavors did not last long otherwise I might become willing to waste the money I spent on that tube. Bleck.

Overnight we were ferried to Yaroslavl. Luckily I could read Cyrillic which gave me a brief preview of what we would do this day; a city tour, a church, and then a return to the ship so that we could continue on our way. Before any of that however we needed to get through breakfast.

Russian breakfasts are very similar to typical American fare. Coffee or tea, eggs, sausages, and buttered bread of some type. They also sine in the area of pancakes and porridges. Vit has stated numerous times that he will eat anything so long as it has stopped moving. The only dish that I found that he did not really look forward to with gusto was porridge. At least until he found out the way Momma had taught me to make it. He also came to enjoy grits. This morning our breakfast was porridge and Vit prepared to be polite and not turn his nose up. But thankfully the on-board chef knew his stuff. Breakfast was a buckwheat porridge. And while similar to nearly the only food he’d had in the orphanage growing up, this was well-cooked and sweetened. Additionally buckwheat is high in protein, has a low glycemic index, is naturally gluten-free, and helps lower bad cholesterol. There was also toasted Russian black bread with plenty of fresh butter to slather on it. I was fairly certain that at the rate I was being fed, that all of those lost pounds would soon find me again.

We were quickly moved off the ship and started our city tour. Credit for Yaroslavl’s city center goes to none other than Catherine the Great, who was even more than a mighty Russian ruler—she was a forward-thinking urban planner as well. Or so our historian and guide made sure we were to understand. The city is over 1000 years old and was founded by Yaroslav, the son of Russia’s first Christian grand prince Vladimir the Great. Yaroslav landed here in 1010 to suppress a hostile pagan tribe that raided passing merchants. To defend itself, the tribe released their secret weapon, a sacred bear with a taste for human warriors. Yaroslav later called “Yaroslav the Wise,” merely grabbed an ax and dropped it with one blow. As a result, the city's coat of arms today features a bear carrying an ax.

We strolled through the city seeing such sights as wide, tree-lined streets and attractive parks. We stepped inside the exquisite Church of Elijah the Prophet, a masterpiece of Orthodox architecture whose interior is covered in frescoes, from the floor to the top of the domes high overhead. The frescoes were scenes of daily life—peasants harvesting hay, weddings, animals—that gave us a sense of how ordinary people lived in this area during the 17th century, when the paintings were made. At the outdoor market, we were expected to spend money. I was extremely hesitant, not wanting them to try and break us financially since they were unable to break us earlier.

Vit whispered, “Baird transferred our per diem onto the gold card. Since we are being fed, we will spend it this way. Allow me?”

“I’ll follow your lead,” I told him. I know this is some type of ploy and I hate these ridiculous games.

“It is good,” he said, giving me a warm smile of encouragement before proceeding to buy a bottle of the local vodka. Thankfully that is not all he purchased as I really don’t want vodka to be the only thing I remember Russia by. There was a clay bell with the bear mascot on it as well as some Gzhel porcelain pieces. The gzhel was all handmade so no two looked alike and it is also the purchase that shocked me. Vit purchased a tea set in cobalt blue. It was not the most expensive piece purchased that day by others but it certain was not something that I would have purchased on my own. But it is beautiful and he says it will hold a place of honor at our home. Thankfully the shop wrapped the tea set in tissue and bubble wrap and then into Styrofoam sections inside a box that was further wrapped and placed in a box suitable for shipping. Vit carried it in a eco-bag provided by the store as a bit of free advertising.

We continued walking and our guide told us most of the churches and houses gracing the historic city center were built by rich merchants in the 17th to 19th centuries, as they competed to outdo one other in beautifying their city.

Soon enough we were hurried back to the ship for embarking as it was time for lunch or tea, whichever was preferred. Most passengers, including the group in this detour, relaxed onboard the ship as we traveled across Lake Rybinsk. The lake was formed in 1941 between the upper Volga River and its tributaries. At the time of its construction, it was the largest man-made body of water on earth.

I was handed a folder and inside it were several translations that needed refining. Vit was not pleased and refused to leave my side. He is becoming very suspicious. And then I was called on to play for guests of the detour diplomats.

“This is something you need not do,” he assured me. “You are not here as their servant.”

I shrugged. “I don’t mind, and it is better than standing around acting out verbal translations between people that only pretend to not understand one another.”

Slowly Vit unbent and smiled. “Ah, so you caught that did you.”

“Let’s just say their lack of understanding is selective. Besides, they may listen but I only play for you.” Vit actually chuckled at that. “Ah, my Kokhana.” And it was only once he settled into a chair that I picked up my violin and began to play.

Once we were able to escape and returned to our cabin he showed me how much he appreciated my playing. “I admit I have missed your playing.”

“I would play for you more often but they’ve asked people to keep their playing in the sound booths on the education deck.”

“There will come a time when you need not hide yourself away. You will have a home where you can do as you wish.”

And for that I showed him some appreciation that left him … well appreciated and sleeping with a smile on his face.

It is good that Vit and I are once again comfortable with one another. We both still have worries, but we are more in tune and working together rather than at cross purposes.
 

Kathy in FL

Administrator
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Chapter 217: Aug 31 – Goritsy, Russia (Sunday)

Russian cities and Russian countryside are so very different, nearly a completely different world. Sometimes I think I remember then sometimes it is more I am remembering that I remembered. Most of the time it is just a blank, an entirely new experience. Vit did not grow up in the countryside and for him too, this is an entirely new experience. This is the fabled land of Mother Russia.

Today we explored a rural village. Yet somehow it felt … a bit contrived … similar to going to a history exhibit or museum or even a Russian Disney’s It’s a Small World. And when we got off the “ride” we were directed through a gift shop. Rereading what I just wrote makes me sound cynical and world weary. Perhaps I could have phrased it slightly less acerbic but, though the people were nice, it felt more like a display than real.

First, the morning brochure explained we would “dive into the medieval atmosphere of this extraordinarily picturesque tiny river town of Goritsy, one of the most tranquil places in Russia.” I did not find it particularly tranquil with the crowds from the two cruise ships that were docked here; one us on our way to St. Petersburg, and the other going the opposite direction to Moscow. The small town was once the center of one of the largest accumulations of Russian monasteries. Not today, but there remain quite a few.

Two of Goritsy's monasteries are especially famous, the first of them is the Kirillo-Belozerskiy monastery that dates back to 1397. Its founder was a monk named Reverend Kirill who left his privileged life to seek a remote place to become closer to God. His monastery prospered and became a refuge for many nobles during the Time of Troubles. The walled area of the monastery features two priories and eleven churches, most of them dating to the 16th century. The monastery walls, about half a mile long and almost 23 feet thick, were constructed in 1654-80 to hold off Lithuanian invaders. It soon turned into a fortress which resisted the attacks of the Poles and Lithuanians for many years. It could not, however, resist the Bolsheviks. The monastery is now home to one of the best collections of Russian icons in the world. During the Revolution, the monks were shot or sent to labor camps, though it was one of the few monasteries not turned into a concentration camp. Despite this, the ornate building has managed to preserve much of its historic grandeur and was named one of "The New Seven Wonders of Russia."

There was also Uspensky Cathedral and Ferapont monastery, both in the historic complex of religious buildings. At Ferapont, sometimes spelled Pherapon, the main treasures of the cloister are frescos and icons, painted by Dionysy who was a great icon painter of the 16th century. Nowadays the frescos in Pherapontov cloister are the only wall-paintings of the master that survive. We were shown through the church of the Annunciation, the church of St. Martinian and saw the Aathedral of the Nativity of the Virgin Mary.

Although less grand, the setting of Goritsy Nunnery on the banks of the broad Skeksna River is stunningly beautiful. This atmospheric building with pure white walls looks like a vision out of a fairy tale. It was founded in 1554 by Princess Efrosiniya, the wife of one of Ivan the Terrible's sons. She became one of Ivan's numerous victims when Ivan began to suspect her and her son of treason and the Tsar had her drowned in the river Shekna. More horrible still, Ivan then turned the monastery into his own personal harem for wives and abducted Russian beauties. During the Time of Troubles, the nunnery fell to Lithuanian attacks and was only saved from complete destruction by the rebels Minin and Pozharsky. The guide seemed to single me out as if he was attempting to frighten with his horror stories. Vit was not amused. What no one seemed to realize is that after years of working with Poppa and Derrick in the mission field, their “stories” would be considered somewhat tame. The world is full of misery and you don’t have to go looking into history to find it.

The Russian North has always appealed to monks and saints. Since the 15th century numerous monasteries and cloisters have been founded throughout the northern part of the country and reached the White Sea coastline. The relics of the saints' bodies still lie intact in the monasteries. Our guide suggested that the cloisters and monasteries went through all the troubles and turmoil of the 20th century, and survived, thanks to them.

Slightly less than a mile west of the village is Maura Mountain. Our guide recounted a local legend that says that at the top of the hill Saint Kirill had a vision as the place to found the monastery. A stone with Kirill’s footprint may be seen there. Close to this stone a Cross and the Chapel of Saint Kirill and Ferapont were erected.

After the worldwind tour we were shuffled through a marketplace and then back on board our ship for cruising along Lake Onega. It is fed by 58 rivers, and has 1,369 islands and is bordered by the Republic of Karelia on the west, north and east, and by Leningrad Oblast and Vologda Oblast on the south. It was described as a great inland sea that creates its own weather, just as the Great Lakes in the United States do. The shores are lined with birch forests which explained all of the birch bark items on display in the mark.

Though the shores looked uninhabitable, people have lived along these shores for thousands of years, as petroglyphs carved into the granite on the eastern shore attest. I could wish for a few less people on this ship. Thankfully dinner was a quiet affair, and I was not asked to play as some serious discussions had come up on the Peace Mission, putting it in context with the history of Russia. As an “SO” I was excused while Vit was expected to remain. I let Vit know that I would be returning to the cabin rather than trying to fit in with some of the other diplomatic wives. My actions didn’t stand out as only the highest-ranking wives remained for “cocktails”.

Vit has finally returned and he asked for something he has not in so long … a massage. He was hesitant until I gave him what he called a “wifely stare.” Then he gave a tired grin and slowly relaxed. He now stares as me and says he wishes to return the appreciation so I will close here. G’nite.
 

Kathy in FL

Administrator
_______________
Chapter 218: Sep 1 - Kizhi Island, Russia

Our guide explained that the Kareliya region, which spans the area from St. Petersburg to the Arctic Circle, is a huge wilderness of forest and water only sparsely inhabited. There are still people, but they live what would be called in the US a very “backwoods existence.”

Today was a a little less like a museum than yesterday despite that being exactly what it was. We went to an open-air museum on Kishi Island. Kizhi is one of the islands in Lake Onega and is located in the approximate center of the lake. As we approached it from the water, the towering wooden Church of Transfiguration was quite the sight. The silhouette of the Church loomed out of the water, its multiple onion domes impossibly intricate. There are two forbidden things on the island … smoking and staying there overnight. Every passenger disembarking had to sign a contract stating that they understood the rules and understood there would be severe penalties (unspecified) should the rules be broken. A bit heavy handed perhaps but given a few occurrences in the past, and the fragility of the wood structures, understandable from their viewpoint.

From memory, this is how part of the contract was phrased after being translated into English:

Dear guests,

The Kizhi Island is an open-air museum of local history and architecture which includes the UNESCO world heritage site Church of the Transfiguration. In order to keep the Kizhi Museum well maintained we ask you to abide by the following rules:

  • keep this place neat and tidy;
  • leave your oversized bags in the checkroom;
  • leave your pets within the museum entrance area, ask our personnel for assistance;
  • you can enjoy your meals in the cafeterias in the museum entrance area;
  • no smoking is allowed on the island;
  • follow the instructions of our tour guides and museum personnel;
  • you can use your camera in the museum interiors, but only without flash;
  • professional and commercial filming is permitted only upon the agreement with the museum administration;
  • bicycles and other means of transportation cannot be used on the museum main exhibition;
The following activities are prohibited in the museum area:
  • making open fire;
  • swimming and walking in the swimsuit;
  • to be present in the state of alcoholic or drug intoxication;
  • bringing in plain weapons, firearms, explosives and inflammable fluids.
  • touching or damaging exhibited items, icons etc.

After the ship docked, an additional guide joined the diplomatic group and took us through the famous open-air museum personally. Only later did I find out he was in administration in some form. The museum featured eighty-nine examples of traditional Russian wooden architecture, from very simple wooden structures representative the first settlements on Kizhi which appeared between the 10th and 12th centuries, to the jaw-dropping Church of Transfiguration built in 1714 without a single nail to hold it together. Instead a special notching technique was used to hold the Scots Pine structures together. The Church also has 22 shimmering shingled onion domes that replaced earlier pyramid-shaped tops. For a moment I wished for the students to be here for a lesson in physics but then the thought of how some of them might act caused me to shudder inwardly and be grateful they were not. Other wooden structures on display included cottages, barns and windmills, and less ornate but beautiful in their simplicity orthodox churches.

At one point in the 16th century, Kizhi Island was declared a pogost (or parish center) by the Russian Orthodox Church and produced lumber and iron in an economy that sustained over 100 villages. After a two-year rebellion was quelled in 1771, Kizhi's importance waned until finally in the 1950s the island was almost forgotten. Most of the inhabitants left, all the original villages disappeared, leaving behind impressive these wooden relics. I will add here, though it wasn’t discussed, that it was easier for the communist regime to move people from the countryside to the larger cities. Easier for them. For the villagers it often came with the loss of their former way of life, and often the loss of their religion. They were put to work in factories and only the elders remembered the forests and woodland areas that once supported them.
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It was in the 1960s that traditional lifestyles and buildings were turned into “museums” through restoration. Today, this collection of traditional log structures, centered on two churches and a bell tower set in an enclosure still called the Kizhi Pogost, is considered one of Russia's greatest open-air museums. The buildings were set in 3 special sectors, named after the regions that the structures came from: North Karelia, Karelia, and Pudozhsky. Moreover, the island was declared a World Heritage Site by UNESCO in 1990.

We were also shown the Church of the Resurrection of Lazarus, moved to the island from the Murom Monastery on the lake's eastern shore. Dating back to the 14th century, it is by far the oldest building in the collection, and is also the oldest wooden church still standing in Russia. Tradition holds that the building, a pilgrimage destination, has healing powers. The Chapels of Archangel Mikhail, of the Assumption of Virgin Mary, of the Divine Savior, and many others complete the ensemble of this museum. I itched to take pictures, but they were not allowed for our diplomatic group. Vit understood and when we were in the inevitable “souvenir store” he purchased us a book on the museum that had a great many interesting pictures. He also insisted on purchasing me a scarf and several bars of the natural soap produced on the island. The soap is produced in accordance with an age-old recipe with different organic plant oils as main ingredients. Some of the best-selling soaps are those with white clay and therapeutic mud.

Another treat we purchased were a local pie called a kalitka. It isn’t a pie as most would think, but more of a tart or hand pie made of potato and yogurt with a rye flour crust[1]. It was delicious and I am determined to learn to make them for our holidays.

I was feeding the crumbs of the kalitka to a few birds who were obviously used to tourists doing so when I saw Vit approached from the corner of my eye. His smile turned stoic and I wondered if there was a problem.

“Do you feel up to playing?”

“Now?” I asked in embarrassment.

“Nii. During cocktails. There has been a request for you to play some Russian folk music.”

“Folk music? Not classical?”

“The request was for folk music specifically.”

“Will there be time for me to look over some sheet music?”

“Veta you do not have to do this.”

“If it will increase your consequence and that of the Peace Mission I have no problem with it. I … just wish to look for some appropriate pieces.”

“You are sure?”

Forcing myself to relax and smile I told him, “Yes. But it will only be a few pieces. Perhaps they should ask some others to play as well. I don’t want to hog all the attention when they have some due as well.”

Vit’s eyes twinkled at my naughtiness and so it happened once we were back on the ship. The Russian diplomat’s daughters played first and then I closed with three Russian folk songs and a piece of Balkan gypsy music that had a rather rousing effect on everyone right before they went into dinner. The wine and vodka flowed freely, and I think I managed to prove myself to be less of an easy target to try and embarrass Vit with.

Vit barely made it to the cabin before having to stuff one of our bed pillows in his mouth so no one would hear him laughing. “Ah, my Kokhana. That will teach their wives.”

“I hope so. I suspect some will have to walk softly tomorrow if the amount of vodka being consumed is any indication.”

I was shown my own rousing amount of appreciation and now that Vit is out of the shower it is time to rest so we can face tomorrow.

[1] Kalitki: Weight-loss-friendly pies from Russian Karelia (RECIPE)
 

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Kathy in FL

Administrator
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Chapter 219: Sep 2 – Mandrogi, Russia

Not everyone made it to breakfast today.

Vit shrugged and said for my ears alone, “They should learn to pace themselves better.”

I had a hard time not giggling at all the black coffee and tea that were being served up instead of food.

Today was another history museum. This one in Mandrogi. Very atmospheric with an introduction that we “travel back in time to the 19th century at a reconstructed Russian village populated by talented artisans who make handmade items using traditional materials and techniques. Other highlights today include a rustic shashlik lunch.” In other words, be prepared to spend some rubles as we educate you. I don’t mean to sound jaded. I know they do the same thing the world over. It just becomes a bit tedious when you are on a budget, or at least trying to keep to one.

As soon as we disembarked our guide for the day started his spiel. Welcome to Mandrogi! It is a famous reconstructed traditional Russian village. You can see how people lived long time ago. You can view some skills there: horse riding, cooking, different types of sewing, wood drawing on Matreshka and others. The village has several traditional Russian houses (izba), museums. The nature is nice around, the River has lots of fish, and forests are inhabited with many bird and animal species.

Obviously English was not his first language and if I had to guess he barely understood what he was saying otherwise his grammar would not have been so bad. Better was the flyer we had been given on the ship.

Once upon a time there was a village called Verkhnie Mandrogi, or "Upper Falls" in the language of the locals. The village was rebuilt in 1997 and has been attracting tourists ever since.Visitors to this small settlement on the outskirts of the Leningrad region can catch a glimpse of a time long-forgotten by immersing themselves in 19th-century rural Russian life.

Located 260 kilometers northwest of St. Petersburg, Verkhniye Mandrogi is a rustic, wood-crafted village that has thoroughly recreated the simple life of pre-revolutionary Russia. Surrounded by forests and flanked by waterways on both sides, this timeless settlement along the Svir River offers something for almost anyone who wants to unwind from big-city life.

There are several relaxing banyas dotted around the village, two restaurants with excellent homestyle food, a vodka museum, crafts and cooking master classes, horseback riding and, for those seeking something a little more rustic, cozy cabins offering complete immersion in 19th-century Russia. All cottages have a wooden Mandrogi decor and a welcoming atmosphere with a real stove and all the amenities.

Among the activities are the workshops. A community of people of talent and enthusiasm united in our objective to preserve, develop and recover the popular arts and crafts. There are exhibitions of Russian dolls, paintings and prints (lithography and etching). In these workshops you will be introduced evidence to the processing of the materials you will learn the basics of a trade: painting on wood (such as for the dolls), work on a frame, make a pot in ceramics, painting ceramics and much another.

Thanks to the rich forests of the area and the geographic location on the river, in Mandrogi is possible to organize activities of hunting and fishing. Another interesting activity is the excursion in the forest, riding a horse, walking, archery, air rifles and organize a picnic with sausages, wine or taking what you want for lunch. The stay at Mandrogi is not just for the summer but also in winter, with special activities.

It’s a harmonious blend of a historical and a modern way of life. Here it is possible to completely unwind from the noisy big city and learn something new about Russia’s past.


Essentially we rambled through an area called the Old Village. It was made up of traditional buildings moved from other locations and rebuilt at the new site. There was a village on this site in earlier times, but sadly it was destroyed during WWII. The purpose of the village that stands there now is to give visitors an idea of how Russians lived in the 19th century. It isn’t just for international visitors either; Russians come here to experience life as their forebears knew it, staying in little cabins, feeding livestock and cooking on wood stoves. A bit like Dude Ranches in the US.

We got to observe craftspeople in the workshops creating beautiful handmade items: miniature Fabergé-style eggs mounted as pendants, Karelian birchwood boxes painted with exquisite scenes, and gorgeous dolls in traditional costumes. We strolled from studio to studio, admiring these treasures, with many visitors also buying what was made on sight. Then it was time for a snack. It was one of the best piroshkis I’ve ever tasted. Yum!

However, a snack is not all we sampled. One of the highlights of the day was a traditional and rustic shashlik picnic lunch, with shish kebab and all the trimmings, as well as local entertainment. Neither Vit nor I had ever experienced any of this despite it being our heritage.

And then a memory for me. “What … what is that sound?”

It took a moment for the guide to realize what I was asking about. “A woman is at a loom.”

“May I see?” I asked Vit.

“Of course,” he said, leading me off and around where the sound was coming from.

“I … I heard this. As a child. Before Poppa and Derrick …” I closed my eyes and just listened for a moment. I told the woman thank you and allowed Vit to take me back to our group, but I couldn’t hide how affected I was even pulling as much stoicism around me as I could. Lucky for me everyone else was still enthusiastic about their lunch and some of the other demonstrations going on … as well as picking their latest purchase.

I was rather involved with memories of memories and wasn’t paying attention to what Vit was purchasing until it was too late to stop him, assuming I could have without embarrassing us both. There was a platki shawl with exquisite floral designs on it. Other textiles included guilloche table napkins, bead woven canvases, lace-made neckpieces, and handkerchiefs. Other traditional items were decorative wooden cookery, adorned with traditional wood-painted fancy red, black and gold khohloma ornaments, spoons, a cutting board, and some cups and bowls.

“Vit, how are we to get this back to the B, much less home?!” I whispered so that no one else could hear.

He snorted. “The same way the other diplomats will. We are each being given a crate.”

“Other diplomats? We aren’t diplomats, we are personnel. And an entire crate for each diplomat? Oh my Lord, security is going to love that.”

He chuckled. “Yes, so I’ve been informed by Mr. Baird. Who asked for us to pick him up some vodka from the museum.”

“Vodka. What vodka?” I asked, not expecting those kinds of shenanigans. Vit smiled mischievously and as we walked the cobblestone roads of the village I noted several of the male diplomats losing their polite boredom and getting excited. Oh my. We were on our way to the most popular museum in Mandrogi … the Museum of Russian Vodka.

The museum contains a collection of 3,500 different types of vodka brought from all across the Russian Federation, with displays educating the guest on the varying ways in which this drink is produced.

Most of the bottles were clear or frosted but there were some notable green bottles as well as some done in the ceramic blue and white porcelain.

When I abstained from the vodka tasting experience I got a few “knowing” looks. The truth is that I abstained so that Vit could participate. However, I didn’t say no to the rabbit liver pate on buckwheat crackers. They could think whatever they wished.

Soon enough we were back on the ship and cruising along the southern shores of Lake Ladoga, a vast freshwater inland sea that was once connected to the Baltic Sea. Islands dotted the water while forested nature preserves and beaches lined the shores. While many of the guests enjoyed their last night on board, Vit and I had other responsibilities. Vit wrote reports and I took the time to write “gracious” thank you notes to people for their congenial hospitality as I had heard several women said they planned to do.

And I better put this away and get back to finishing those notes or Vit will have finished his reports and long been asleep before I will.
 

Kathy in FL

Administrator
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Chapter 220: Sep 3 - St. Petersburg, Russia (3)

Vit and I are back in St. Petersburg, and relieved to have it so. It made for an extremely early morning but it was necessary to get everything moved between ships. I would have loved to have met with Polina but that’s not ultimately how things happened. There was what Towers called an administrative SNAFU and the schedules were devised as if we were returning late last evening. No, definitely not. While Vit was whisked off for reports and debriefing, I didn’t even step foot on deck but has been assigned to the day’s security detail.

I wondered at Polina’s coldness and I apologized for the inconvenience. She gave me one of her trademark micro-smiles and I finally figured out her changed demeanor was due, not to my “tardiness” but because of a new security person, a Russian, who is in charge of the group’s security rather than myself. I had no problem with that. What I didn’t care for was the man’s Siberian-cold attitude.

He asked me if I would do my duty. I nearly hissed at him, not in the mood for whatever he was going for. My gruff reply surprised him. “I never do anything but. Lead on before someone can say we are late.” Obviously he did not expect me to speak Russian. Apparently he’d made the assumption that my designation was a political appointment rather than one based on merit. At least he seemed to moderate his attitude as the day wore on.

When the students came through customs looking rather melancholy I got their attention by saying, “Hup, hup and pull it together or do you want me to start calling you ducklings? And treating you that way? This day requires you to be situationally aware.”

“Chief Dymtrus!”

“Yes, yes. I missed you as well. But I’m serious, if you cannot keep up and follow the rules, I need to know now so that you can return to the ship.”

For whatever reason they all started to behave more awake and I had no troubles the remainder of the day. We met off the ship at 8 o’clock and by 8:30 we were on an hour-long scenic tour along the rivers and canals of St. Petersburg. The day just became busier from there.

At 10:00 we were taken on a ninety-minute guided tour of Yusupov Palace including the Gregory Rasputin exposition. It was a thirty minute travel time by but to the Archangelskoe Estate west of the capital. Our guide was excellent as she explained what we would see throughout our day.

Fringing the River Moskva, Archangelskoe was owned by Russian princes between the 1600s and 1900s, including Prince Yusupov, a wealthy noble who turned it into a hub of high society. Together with its showpiece — the neo-classical Yusupov Palace — the estate incorporates a small palace and statue-dotted gardens once called the ‘Russian Versailles.’

Located 20 kilometers west from Moscow, the elaborate Archangelskoe Estate is a rare example of the elite residence on the outskirts of Moscow surrounded by a sprawling garden and facing the Moscow River. Get dramatic views, listen to interesting stories and get up close and personal with a private residence of Russian elite of 18-19th centuries.

The land on which the palace stands, in the south of the historic center close to the Mariinsky Theatre, was originally the site of a wooden palace belonging to Tsarevna Praskovia Ivanovna, niece of Peter the Great. In the mid-18th century it was bought by Count Peter Shuvalov. In 1770, his heir Andrei Shuvalov commissioned the French architect Jean-Baptiste Vallin de la Mothe, designer of the Small Hermitage, Gostiny Dvor and the Academy of Sciences, to build a new palace on the site. De la Mothe's building forms the basis of the palace that can be seen today, although various additions and alterations were made by leading architects as the palace changed hands over the years.

We saw both big and small palaces, beautiful gardens, churches, the tiny Tea House, monuments of Catherine the Great and Alexander Pushkin, Upper and Lower Terraces The estate was built in a neoclassical style and looks like it came from a vintage movie set. One of its highlights is a terraced park decorated with many antique statues.

In 1830, the palace was purchased by Prince Nikolay Borisovich Yusupov, and it remained in the ownership of the family until seized by the Bolsheviks in 1917. The legends surrounding Rasputin's murder, which took place in the basement of the Yusupov Palace on 16 December 1916, are mostly based on the sensationalist account in the autobiography of Prince Felix Yusupov, who claimed to have led the plotters in first poisoning, then shooting, then beating Rasputin with clubs and throwing him into the icy Malaya Nevka River, where the Mad Monk eventually died of hypothermia. There is now a display in the palace museum that uses photography, documents, and wax figures to recreate the assassination and the following investigation.

After the October Revolution, the palace was handed to the educational authorities, which fortunately opted to preserve many of the original interiors and used the building as a type of clubhouse for the city's teachers. As well as the Rasputin display (which can be seen only on guided tours in Russian, unless booked in advance), the modern museum offers guests the chance to explore the reception rooms and living quarters on the ground floor of the palace (English-language audio tours available). The Yusupov Palace also functions as a cultural centre, hosting classical concerts and theatre performances in the beautiful rococo Palace Theatre and the equally impressive White-Columns Hall.

Arkhangelskoe's oldest buildings are the church of Archangel Michael (1646) and Saint Gates (1820s). Take a walk around the park for nature nooks and architectural gems.

The estate celebrates the harmony of architecture and nature, and you will feel it through all its beautiful elements: 200-year-old larch trees, a fountain "Cupids with Dolphins", sculptural groups "Hercules and Antaeus" and "Menelaus with the body of "Patroclus", balustrade with 44 marble busts of ancient heroes, emperors, philosophers and generals – Caesar, Democritus, Nero, Augustus.

From the Yusupov Palace we switched to a guided tour of St. Isaac's Cathedral which was originally the city's main church and the largest cathedral in Russia. It was built between 1818 and 1858 to be one of the most impressive landmarks of the Russian Imperial capital. One hundred and eighty years later the gilded dome of St. Isaac's still dominates the skyline of St. Petersburg. Although the cathedral is considerably smaller than the rebuilt Church of Christ the Savior in Moscow, it boasts much more impressive facades and interiors.

The cathedral's facades are decorated with sculptures and massive granite columns (made of single pieces of red granite), while the interior is adorned with incredibly detailed mosaic icons, paintings and columns made of malachite and lapis lazuli. A large, brightly colored stained-glass window of the "Resurrected Christ" takes pride of place inside the main altar. The church, designed to accommodate 14,000 standing worshipers, was closed in the early 1930s and reopened as a museum (due to communism’s anti-religion ideology). Today, church services are held here only on major ecclesiastical occasions. A treat was the opportunity to climb the 300 steps up to the cathedral's colonnade, where we enjoyed magnificent views over the city.

The next part of our day was given a resounding decree of approval by the students; a traditional Russian lunch at a local restaurant. I have to admit that I was too stressed to feel real hunger, but I did appreciate the effort made by the restaurant’s staff. While we were there it was explained that most “traditional Russian food” commonly referred to is only consumed during a holiday celebration. The definition also depends upon what time period you are referring to.

The 1990s was a hard period for most Russians with only simple food (a lot of products were from the own garden). Last years of the USSR was a period of food shortages. People from the countryside needed to go to Moscow to buy meat. Standing in the lines to buy milk, bread and so on was a normal way of life. In contrast, the peasant food of Imperial Russia was simple. People had no time to cook delicious meals because of hard physical job out in the fields. Milk and meat were a rare thing even among affluent peasants. In the beginning of 20th century, 60% of food calories came from bread, while only 15% of calories were from animal products (such as milk). Peasants baked bread 1-2 times in a weak. Schi (soup from vegetables) was the most popular food as well as porridges from different types of grain. In the summer, people loved fresh vegetables (especially turnip).

The young woman explained further. “The majority of modern Russian soups have not existed till 15-18th centuries! Moreover, there were no tomatoes and potatoes (important ingredients of Russian soups) till 18th century! Borsch… the most traditional Russian soup appeared only in 16 centuries and consisted of beat, cabbage, onion and carrot (no tomatoes and potatoes). Only schi (or cabbage soup) and some strange soups made of salted water and bread were popular that times.”

“So what do we really eat in Russia now? The normal food of modern families usually include soup (the first dish) and some side dish with meat (the second dish). Bread (white and black) is the most traditional food ever. Our parents and their parents ate bread with everything from their plates. In the summer, vegetable salads and fresh vegetables were a must thing on the table as well. In the winter, families with gardens often eat their own salted vegetables, it was especially popular decades ago when people have no money for fresh vegetables. Now many people buy fruits and vegetables any season.”


I was very glad to see how comfortable all the students were eating “family style” and using better manners than was expected. Afterwards they cleaned up after themselves and straightened their tables and chairs and told all the staff thank you … even the head cook who came out to see what the noise was about. I made sure they were left a tip that was large enough to split with the staff that served us and tonight I sent a letter through the diplomatic office telling the restaurant thank you for both the excellent service and delicious food as well as the educational opportunity. I did similar to the tour company and the administration at each of the stops we made. When Officer Kirill, the new Russian, questioned why I would do such a thing I answered, “Why would I not? I’ve tried in various ways to let people the students interact with know that their time and skills were appreciated.”

“But why? You are security. That is the job of the diplomats.”

“The students aren’t diplomats in the traditional sense. They are students but they also need to set an example of good behavior that reflects well on the Peace Mission. And it is my responsibility and privilege to set a good example for them. Would you rather them go through life not giving thought to such issues? Or is it better that they are taught to think and then act in such a way as to seek effective communication and appreciation for the people they come in contact with?”

He made a face. “But … why? It is not your job. You are not their parent or teacher.”

I wanted to roll my eyes and sigh the way some of the students do. “Fine. Simplified as much as possible. It is an act that I make time for. It hurts nothing and in some instances it perhaps help, even if in just small ways. And it sets a good example for the students to think about following with free will. Every little step, no matter how small, works toward a successful Peace Mission.”

It was obvious he still did not understand and considered it at minimum a waste of time and potentially an overstep of my place. Oh well. I learned things with Poppa and Derrick that have never proven false, and using good manners and showing appreciation when it is deserved, is never a bad thing.

After lunch we took a city sightseeing tour through the historical downtown and Nevsky Prospect with short walks and photo stops so that the media specialist that had been assigned to us could get some group shots. We also spent time gift shopping.

Nevsky Prospekt is St. Petersburg's main avenue and one of the best-known streets in Russia. Cutting through the historical center of the city, it runs from the Admiralty to the Moscow Railway Station and then to the Alexander Nevsky Monastery. In the very first days of St. Petersburg it was simply the beginning of the road to the ancient city of Novgorod, but it quickly became adorned with beautiful buildings, squares and bridges and became the very center of the bustling, rapidly growing city.

Nevsky gradually widened as we traveled along its length towards the river. It is lined with some of St. Petersburg's most impressive buildings; such as the Kazan Cathedral on one side and the Dom Knigi book store (the former Singer sewing machine company headquarters) on the other and the wonderful view down Kanal Griboedova to the picturesque Russian-style Church of Our Savior on Spilled Blood.

In addition to the many different denomination churches that line Nevsky, which prompted the French writer Alexander Dumas to call it "the street of religious tolerance", there were numerous other attractions. Just a stone's throw from Nevsky, next door to the Grand Hotel Europe, stand Arts Square and the Russian Museum. Further down the road, was the largest department store in the city - "Gostiny Dvor", and long with the Russian National Library (the second largest branch in the country), an impressive monument to Catherine the Great and the Anichkov Bridge, which was adorned with four striking equestrian statues.

Nevsky Prospekt is also the city's central shopping street and the hub of the city's entertainment and nightlife. I was so busy acting as interpreter and helping with financial transactions that I didn’t spend a dime myself. I’m glad I did not after coming back to the cabin at 5:00 pm for the six o’clock sail away to find several bags upon the bed.

“Do you have hunger?” Vit asked me, his syntax showing he was either tired or irritated. It wound up being a bit of both.

I simply looked at him and he snorted in disgust. “This is the Baird of old. He gives gifts haphazardly. Henry explained Baird overbought and decided to ‘share’ the excess.”

“Oh,” I said blinking. “Do I want to know what is in the bags?”

At Vit’s irritated shrug I slowly opened the first bag to determine what I was to do with it all and nearly shrieked and threw it across the room.

“You did that on purpose!”

Vit was trying not to laugh. “I swear Kokhana, I did not but … your face …” More laughter. “It makes the irritation less. And the fur is not real.”

“It” was a Cossack black fur hat and a fake fox fur stole designed in such a way as to make it have a “face” on one end and a “tail” on the other.


In my own irritation I said, “I will try and appreciate it but when on earth will I wear it in Florida?”

Vit just smiled and continued to chuckle until he showed me his. It was a Ushanka hat used by the Soviet military in winter. “You can remove that yes?” he asked pointing to a life-like Soviet-era Army medallion on the hat.

“I can remove that yes,” I told him wondering at Baird’s sometimes strange taste in “gifts.” The rest of the items were somewhat more practical. Caviar, vodka, shawls, and recordings of Russian music. How I am to pack this all up with our other purchases is giving me indigestion. Oh well, Vit said to have faith in him to find a solution and I suppose I must.

Dare I say I am glad to be back aboard this ship? Well I am. Yes, we have some troubles here but at least I feel there are more around to help me watch my back.
 

sssarawolf

Has No Life - Lives on TB
Another great addition.
I have more time to read this week as you see. No honey do's just my own work and all the animal chores and watering the garden are mine this week. Dear Hubby, volunteered to go hiking and backpacking up the Locksa river in ID for the week with the young men and their leader. No one else would or could go, so he did. Four days of hiking 5 miles each day in the woods and etc. We'll see how he is when he gets home on Friday.
 
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Kathy in FL

Administrator
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Chapter 221: Sep 4 - Helsinki, Finland

Dare I remind myself that I had just been wondering how I was supposed to get all our belongings packed to send back to Pembroke? I was also bemoaning putting the weight I lost back on too fast and yet I probably ate an entire loaf of rye bread by myself today. With real butter. Ridiculous. And I’m paying for it now with a stomach ache. But many things happened today, and I was likely “stress eating.”

Both Vit and I woke this morning trying not to worry too much that our jobs were coming to an end. Why I was worried I can’t exactly put into words. I want to see my family and I’m worried about them. At the same time? I was worried about the same sort of problems occurring that came before. And there is much to do. The house is not currently livable is my understanding. Good grief. I know I am being ridiculous on this subject as well.

“Put it aside for now Kokhana. We will speak of it tonight. After you have dealt with the children.” He looked over my head as we entered the Mess Hall. “They seem rather … energetic.”

I turned to see where he was looking. “Oh gawd.” I took a breath, straightened my spine and prepared to intervene.

“Nii. They must learn. And … yes … appreciate you cut them much slack.” He snorted. “Kirill approaches them. Let it be a lesson for all.”

“Including Kirill?”

My cossack chuckled quietly and tried to keep a straight face. He met the man last night and sounded like Charlie when he said the man walked like he had a cob … in an uncomfortable place. For my own reasons I hoped that he wasn’t on my team for the excursions and I was lucky he was still … er … acclimating and would be with Polina most of the day.

Having eaten and noticing the time I walked by the students’ tables and said, “Knock it off or get left behind.”

As they lined up smartly and exited the Mess Hall I heard Kirill ask Vit, “How does she do that? She tells them and they do? I tell them and they simply stare. It is maddening.”

I ignored Vit’s laugh at the man’s obviously flustered expense and kept the students moving for our nine o’clock meeting with today’s guide. It was not long after that I discovered they’d had an early morning party with … cake.

“Cake?!” I heard another security personnel mutter. “Who needs to be dropped overboard?”

Even the chaperones were questioning the person’s sanity … or duplicity. It turned out to be Ana Bosques and for once she was absolutely no one’s favorite person. It took a while, but the students settled down though most of them seemed tired. I believe it was the carb crash and made note to make sure that Ms. Bosques was never allowed to plan an early morning party again, even if it was given the lofty title of a “Graduation Breakfast.”

Today we toured Helsinki, Finland and also an interesting tour of a reindeer park. There was a lot of stopping, going, and passing by, starting with a fifteen-minute stop at Temppeliaukion Church, also known as the Rock Church of Helsinki. We were unable to go inside due to a service being held but even from the outside it was impressively different from most churches. It is a mix of concrete, granite, and copper. A church had been planned there since the 1930s but WW2 interrupted the building and it wasn’t until 1969 that the church was completed.

Next stop was Sibelius Park and a stop at one of the cities most family coffee shops. The shop looked like a Finnish summer cottage but the students were hardly of a mind to notice, they were so intent on the coffee. In all honesty I did not say no to a strong, black tea.

We also stopped at the former Olympic stadium, but only from the outside as there was a great deal of refurbishing taking place.

From there we “passed by” viewing of several locations as the guide expounded on each one. The National Museum of Finland, Parliament of Finland, the Mannerheim Statue, and the Helsinki Central Railway Station. We stopped for twenty minutes at the Uspenskin Cathedral, an Eastern Orthodox cathedral with a unique architecture. They were setting up for a wedding so it was another building we were unable to go into. It was a shame too as it is the largest cathedral in Finland.

Due to traffic our next two scheduled stops … Senate Square and the Old Market Hall … were given up. I was beginning to wonder if the students were going to be bored out of the heads when the guide said, “You’re in luck. We will be able to enter Nuuksio early so you’ll have more time there.”

Well hurray. Instead of ninety minutes we had a little over two hours giving everyone adequate time to interact with the large shaggy animals and become educated on them. An interesting fact is that the herd has an exact hierarchy. What that means is that the oldest reindeer with the biggest antlers is the leader. In the spring, when they drop their antlers, the ranking may change momentarily depending on whose antlers are the first to drop.

Another bit of trivia is that reindeer antler is the world's fastest growing bone, new antlers grow up to 2-2.5 cm per day. For those that don’t know, yes that is quite fast. When the summer arrives they lose also their thick winter coat, which means they might not look the "prettiest". They still are as healthy then as they are at any other time of the year they just look like they could use a major comb out.

The reindeer within the park are tame and are used to humans and will sometimes even “mug” for a photo, especially if lichen is involved as a bribe. I made the mistake of not putting my braid up this morning and had to take time to wash reindeer spit out of my hair before I could feel free to eat. The students were provided berry juice and a sweet bun (yes, more sweets) and adults had the choice of campfire coffee or tea and a sweet bun. Most of the students dozed on the return trip to the pier where they were given time to shop in the duty-free area.

I did my own bit of shopping with Vit who had come to tell me that we were invited to dine with Mr. Baird.

“Um … for any particular reason?”

“For a particular one, but he said he would explain during our meal … in a private conference room.”

“Why does this not give me a warm and fuzzy feeling?”

“Because you have come to know Baird too well?” he asked letting me know that he too had suspicions that this wasn’t just a friendly meal before our tour was over.

The chaperones rode herd on the students and then hurried them through customs, security, and back to their parents so they could consume something that didn’t make them act like a herd of rabid cats. Shudder. As soon as the students had cleared out Vit and I took our purchases to the counter. What a bunch of silliness that started with canned reindeer meat. I haven’t decided if it will be Charlie or Dev who gets a can in their Christmas basket.

Next came cloudberry products. A couple of cloudberry drink mixes, some cloudberry jam, and Lakka which is a liquor that is produced by soaking cloudberries in alcohol, giving it a very distinct flavor. Vit also picked up some Finlandia Vodka. It’s produced from rye barley and has 80% alcohol content. The smell alone will knock you out. I was surprised that Vit didn’t pick up some Finnish liqueurs, but it was only because Henry had taken his order already and the rich and fruity berries used for making them are brambleberries, cloudberries, lingonberries, sea buckthorn, brambleberries, and cranberries. Another liquor that Henry took an order for was Sima, is a mead-like drink fermented with lemons, various types of sugars and sometimes raisins. Vit kept asking if there was anything I wanted but I was full up and the meeting with Baird was only making me feel fuller. I did suggest that Vit get a puukko – a Finnish hunting knife – for his collection and he wasn’t hard to convince. We both finally embarked and then went to change for dinner.

“It will only be a few more days and then we will put off these uniforms for good,” I said as an observation on the state of our uniforms.

“You will be sorry?”

“I’m not sure,” I admitted. Vit would have continued the conversation, but we needed to hurry to be on time.

It was a nice dinner … chicken breasts with steam vegetables.

Baird looked at the plates and made an apologetic facial expression. “Meant to have steak but have been ordered to lay off the red meat for a bit. You mind?”

“Of course not,” I answered after Vit looked unsure about being treated like an equal. The meal was good, and Mr. Baird had Vit laughing at some memories from when he first went to work for the man. As dessert was served is when the man finally got to the point. And what a point it was.

“Wanted to speak to you before now but these damn committees move too slow and insist on putting their stamp on everything before you can even breathe a word. Look,” he said speaking to Vit. “You’ve been recommended, then made the cut, to continue as support staff with the diplomatic mission.”

“The B will continue then? My understanding is it was to be retired after Copenhagen.”

“Not making myself clear I suppose. It won’t be the B, but other ships.”

“Other … ships?”

“Yes, different legs of the mission will be conducted on other ships.”

This had been my concern, that something would come up and Vit and I would be separated. Vit noticed that I was stiff but trying not to show it. He understood and asked, “And my wife?”

Mr. Baird wiped his mouth and got serious. “The offer is for the pair of you. Veta will continue on with her position. Some high-level security clearance required translating, and some security with a focus on public relations. Each ship and crew will be slightly different so her job responsibilities will be slightly different. However, the biggest change is that it will not be a family ship. Some couples will travel together, at least at the diplomatic and executive officer level, but there will no longer be any minors on board. The ships being used are smaller and won’t support the kind of onboard population we’ve had here on the B. And frankly, the kids have been a bit of a distraction for some. Not unwelcome but simply more than was anticipated.”

Vit nodded and I relaxed but there were still questions to ask. “How much “smaller” are the ships we talking about?”

“Some will be the size of a river cruise boat and others will be larger than the … than the O’Meg, but smaller than The Sun that you travelled on,” Mr. Baird answered. The fact that he stuttered slightly over the name of his old yacht was significant and I wondered if the pirate attack in the Atlantic had worried him more than he let on, especially with Sofia and the children’s presence. “But, and please do not discuss this with others as it is not common knowledge, all future ships will be more militarized than the B. Another reason minors will no longer reside on Peace Mission ships.” His next statement confirmed what I had been thinking. “The repelled boarding during the Transatlantic crossing has made the change necessary but it also proves we were a threat to those against peace. While our standing may look like it is in question, the reality is that the mission being extended says just the opposite. I’d give ye more time if I could but … I need the answer tonight. If we’re needing to bring in new people outside of the current crew roster, it needs to be done quickly.”

I was in a bit of a shock, but Vit seemed sure. I’m relieved to say he looked at me before giving his answer and waited for my minute nod. He immediately accepted for both of us after seeing he had my support.

“That was fast,” Baird said both surprised and relieved at the same time.

“You diplomats are not the only ones that have become invested in seeing this Peace Mission completed successfully,”

We were going to have after dinner drinks, but Mr. Baird received a call that he was needed at a meeting and Vit and I needed to go back to the cabin so we could have some privacy to discuss the new development. We didn’t have much time to rearrange our plans.

Our first call was to Dylan.

“Thank gawd,” he said.

“You knew of this?” Vit asked.

“No. Well, as of about ten minutes ago I had heard you’d been cleared and would be made an offer but with the time difference I wasn’t sure when I’d hear. I wanted to call but …”

“Nii. I understand. My one concern is that the family …”

“No. Don’t worry about that. First off, there’s been a few …”

“Problems?” I asked, stepping into the call that Vit had put on speaker so I could hear.

“No. Well, some. But nothing either of you can do anything about.”

“New ones or a continuation of the old ones?” I asked, trying to get clarification.

“Both and neither. Look, I’m not …” He sighed, then changed topics. “My contract has been extended as well for the duration of the Peace Mission. And not just me personally but the company as well. They’re all for it because their reputation is growing in that arena and it is better than just barely making bank. Their compensation is commiserate with the confidence being placed in them … as is mine. But I’m asking you not to let that information out to anyone else. I don’t want trouble in the family. And yes, there’s been some jealousy here and there. Not so much between the adults but … some of the younger ones having to move home and that sort of thing.”

What I was concerned about is that he is also keeping it from his wife and his own kids. Things are worse than I am being let in on. First Charlie, now Dylan. I’m not sure what to make of it. Are the economic problems back home really so bad that they are chipping away at the foundation of the family? But I didn’t really have time to dig for more as Dylan got a conference call set up.

All of my siblings, including Angelia which is a surprise, are happy we are able to keep our jobs. There is still a great deal to do on the old Jackson place and income producing jobs are very few and far between right now. They also want to give the neighborhood more time to absorb the idea of who now owns that land. There’s been talk but it is the kind that will die down as soon as the new wears off, especially if Vit is able to employ some locals.

Bottom line? Vit and I will not be separated. I will help to contribute to the house fund which means Vit will not solely be burdened by it. The family approves though I told Vit in all honesty that that was not my primary concern.

“Are you certain Kokhana? You will be longer from your family.”

“Our family. And … I think this is providential. It is addressing some concerns we both have.”

“I …”

I walked up to him and wrapped my arms around his waist. “I’m not talking primarily about finances. I trust you. And I’m helping which makes me feel better about that. Mostly I’m talking about the … the family stuff.”

“Ah.”

Not wanting to explain but wanting him to understand I said, “There are too many things going on. We can’t just walk back in, couch surf, and not expect some of the old stuff to be a problem. We can wait until we can move into the house and stand on our own two feet without too much dependence.”

I felt him relax. “You understand.”

“Yes. Part of me may still resent the family for what they did, and I need to work on that as well. And I need to work on accepting the problems that Charlie, Barbie, and now Dylan are going through without trying to over manage and over help.”

“We will figure these things out together.”

“Together.”
 

Kathy in FL

Administrator
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Chapter 222: Sep 5 - Stockholm, Sweden

Our day in Stockholm was a little overwhelming. Scratch that. The day was a lot overwhelming. What is it that Reggie says? “I’m still processing that.” That is definitely how I feel. I’m still processing last night’s decision as well as the understanding that there is more going on in the family than I know about. I’m not sure whether I should ask or if this is just their latest strategy for “protecting Baby Veta.” And I don’t mean that how it sounds. It is a good thing that no one reads this journal but me. I’ll recount my day and hopefully that will declutter my mind enough I can keep my mouth in check.

I was with the students again today and our first activity was The Vasa Museum. It is a unique maritime museum experience; in fact, it is said to be the most popular museum in all of Scandinavia. It houses a 17th-century 64-gun warship that has been meticulously restored and preserved. It is a grand lady of the sea, measuring 69 meters and was built under the rule of King Gustavus Adolphus of Sweden. Intended to be the flagship of the Swedish Navy, the ship sunk on its maiden voyage, barely making it out of the harbor, when high seas and wind overtook its deck. The Vasa is filled with some of the most ornate and exquisite carvings ever seen on a ship of its kind. It is located in a climate and humidity-controlled environment and is constantly monitored and maintained to keep it in the most ideal condition for a relic of its age.

It's not much of a stretch to say that there are not many ships available to examine that were built in 1628. Inside, there are several levels so you can see it from all angles. The students enjoyed photographing the ship but had a little difficulty with the interior as it was dark, intentionally so as a matter of preservation. And with no flash allowed, only those with special filters that lighten up without using a flash, were able to get the best photographs. Jae was called on several times to “share” the ones that he captured. Besides the ship itself, the museum is filled with tools of the maritime trade and traces the history of Scandinavian maritime society.

After the Vasa Museum we were off and practically running as we took a walking tour of Gamla Stan, Stockholm’s Old Town. We were moving so fast I doubt I can recall everything so I will simply record what stood out starting with Österlånggatan. For many centuries Österlånggatan has been one of the key thoroughfares in Stockholm. Back in the 1300s, the street used to reach outside the city walls and was filled with woodwork and blacksmith workshops, most of them supporting the local shipping industry. The shoreline was eventually pushed eastward by dredging and and using that gravel and rubbish to add land. By the 14th century the street had become the 'long street east of the wall', far from the water, paved and lined with shops and homes. The shipping trade gradually disappeared and by the early 20th century virtually everything associated with it on Österlånggatan was gone. In sharp contrast to its old days as the backyard of the dock district, crowded with sailors, taverns, travellers, and traders, in the 1980s, the street was transformed into a relatively quiet area, with many restaurants and shops attracting tourists. Historic buildings like the Royal Coin Cabinet, the Stockholm Concert Hall and the Stockholm School of Economics are all located along Österlånggatan. The famous statue of Saint George and the Dragon is also found here, at Köpmanbrinken (the Merchant’s Slope).

The German Church – also known as Tyska Kyrkan or St. Gertrude’s Church – was another attraction labeled a “must see.” Back in the Middle Ages, it served a local German community, hence the name, and was built in honor of Saint Gertrude, the patron saint of all travelers. During the 17th century, the church became a major epicenter for church music in Sweden. The massive, Baroque-style brick structure boasts a large steeple, which can be seen from several blocks away, along with the impressive copper-covered spire and Neogothic gargoyles perched on the top, overlooking the town. Yes, I said gargoyles. Large windows adorn the building, allowing much light into the interior during the day. The ceiling is adorned with an intricate painting and the gilded face of Saint Gertrude decorates the northern gate, while the southern portal is bordered by the statues of Jesus and Moses.

Köpmanbrinken, or the "Merchant's Slope", is a historic street composed of two slopes. (Yes, I know, how literal.) The northern slope is commonly referred to as Fiskestrandsbrinken ("Fishing Shore Slope"). Back in the Middle Ages, up until 1520, the area east of the slopes, between the alleys Nygränd and Brunnsgränd, used to be the major fish market, Fiskaretorget.

Walking along the street, we were shown some of the city’s most famous sites such as the replicated statue of Saint George and the Dragon, the medieval original of which is found at the Storkyrkan Cathedral. This bronze replica was cast in 1912. Saint George is depicted as a young man in his battle armor with the lance impaling the dragon. In contrast to the Storkyrkan original, several parts of the statue have been altered, like the knight's helmet and the dragon positioned differently. Saint George sits atop a life-sized horse with the dragon’s legs pushing into the horse’s stomach. The plinth is embellished with reliefs of the martyrdom of the brave saint. The original piece was commissioned in 1489.

Back in the day, on the narrow space along the slopes' eastern sides, where the Saint George statue is found today, there was an entire block, called Acteon, which collapsed in 1829. Following the collapse, the slopes were made less steep and, during the 19th century, were regarded as two individual streets, separated by Köpmantorget square. The two streets were subsequently united into one, with its present name, in 1885.

We were able to see the home of the Swedish Monarchy, the Stockholm Palace, from the exterior only. It is where Sweden's King performs his mandated duties as the Head of State. The palace is flanked by other government buildings, such as the Parliament building. The original building on the site was a fortress back in the 15th century. Under the 16th century rule of King John III, the fortress was transformed into a luxurious Baroque palace. Visitors to the palace are greeted by the Högvakten, the Swedish Royal Guard. Shaded by a copper roof, the brick edifice with sandstone facades boasts 660 windows, over 1400 rooms, several lush courtyards and is said to be one of the largest in the world. Our guide certainly bragged on it enough that I purchased a picture book of the interior.

Next we walked by Stockholm Cathedral, otherwise known as the Church of St. Nicholas or the Great Church. It is a brick Gothic-style structure in the heart of Stockholm that is said to have been built by the city's founding father, Birger Jarl. The church served the Roman Catholic community until 1527, upon which it was converted to Lutheran Protestant. Late into the Middle Ages, it was once again retaken by Roman Catholics and, to this day, remains under the governance of the Archdiocese of Stockholm. We were taken inside for a glimpse of the original large wooden statue of Saint George and the Dragon, which was carved in the 15th century. The statue is also a reliquary and, today, contains relics of the favored local saints.

One of the highlights of the walking tour was the Nobel Prize Museum. We had an additional guide for the building and they started out with a biographical history of Alfred Nobel (1833–1896), a scientist whose interest was primarily in peace-keeping. The museum opened in 2001, marking the centenary of the Nobel Prize. Its permanent display includes many artifacts donated by the laureates, presented together with their personal life stories, beginning with the Nobel Laureates of 1901 and continuing to the present-day ones. Some of the more notable inclusions are Marie Curie, Albert Einstein, Rudyard Kipling, Ernest Hemingway, Mikhail Gorbachev, Sinclair Lewis, Henry Kissinger, Mother Teresa, and Winston Churchill. The museum celebrates the accomplishments and the memory of the Nobel Laureates with an immense range of exhibitions, films, and science-related productions. The Cultures of Creativity Exhibit takes visitors on an excursion through the process of selecting a Nobel Prize winner from the appointment to the actual banquet, a very educational activity the student really got into; to the point there was some bickering until the adults put a stop to it.

Of course there was a souvenir shop at this stop. One of the most popular items was the Alfred Nobel's gold medal made in dark fair trade chocolate. Another one was the Swedish “dynamite” candy flavored with jalapeño pepper. There was also the Bistro Nobel featuring Nobel chocolate, Swedish cakes, as well as flunch … which the students ate with gusto. Including the unique Nobel ice cream, plus the Nobel tea usually served at the annual Nobel banquet. The tea I drank gratefully, to the amusement to a couple of the students who insisted on procuring it for me. Tomorrow is their last day and I suppose we are all making the best of the last memories together.

We also saw the Royal Armory (Livrustkammaren), the Museum of Medieval Stockholm, and the Stortoget (“Grand Square”) among several other sites that escape me at the moment.

The students were becoming very wound up and I was glad to turn them back over to their parents, many of whom were in the duty-free area. And who should also be there? Vit seeking to exercise some retail therapy after making sure that I was “clocked out” and finished for the day.

He was pushing a cart that already had several items in it, including a sheepskin rug similar to the one we’d already purchased. “For our child,” he says. Hmph. We don’t even know if that will ever happen, but I won’t take his dreams and plans from him. More carved wooden utensils, the kind I prefer to use when I’m cooking so they are at least practical. Then came the less practical he wanted me to help him pick out.

First came salt licorice. We were both a little hooked on it from our time with the Marchands. Swedish salted black liquorice is one of a kind, and it’s not for everyone. It’s rich, slightly salty, almost creamy – but that really doesn’t give you the full picture. Not everyone likes the stuff, Vit and I do.

Next up was jams and marmalades. The traditional jams and marmalades in Sweden are made from wild growing Lingonberry, Blueberry and the legendary Cloudberry, known as 'Nordic gold'. The Cloudberry only grows in the forests of the northern parts of the country, and is rather rare and hard to harvest. The harvest season is late summer to late autumn, during which you can also find the golden Chanterelle mushrooms hiding in the deep layers of dewy moss.

We couldn’t escape without some Pepparkakor (Ginger Biscuits). Swedish Thins as they are called are known all over the world, and even Momma and Angelia have a recipe they make during the Christmas holiday baking season. Mmmm. You can eat them with cheese and fruit, or just enjoy them with a cup of coffee or a glass of cold milk.

Swedish Mustard was another treat that Vit insisted on getting. In keeping with the North European gastronomic tradition, the Swedes are big on mustard. They like it spicy and brown, or as a sweet sauce to drown their herring in. I nearly gagged the first time I saw Vit eating it that way but it wasn’t long before most of the brats were hooked, including Derrick. As adventuresome as I can be with food, I simply cannot stomach canned herring with mustard slathered all over it. And Vit knows it.

“Alllll mine,” he said giving me a goofy grin making several people that know him from the ship look at him in surprise.

I rolled my eyes and said, “Allllll yours.” He broke down laughing as well. The weight of my worries is so much less with Vit around.

Our last purchase was Absolut Vodka for Vit’s collection. Many people don’t know that the famous ”Absolut Vodka” comes from Sweden, and not Russia, and what Vit really wanted was the ones in their limited edition bottles. One of them looked like cut crytal and the other was a metallic blue faceted bottle.

Back on the ship we ordered food that we waited for and then took back to our cabin, we had a lot of work yet to do before we could sleep, starting with packing all of our purchases and other belongings that need to go back to Pembroke for storage in a crate provided by Barney who is overseeing all that sort of thing for the Baird family. We’ve been told our future assignment will be much more limited space-wise. We are only allowed one gym bag each plus our backpack carry-ons. As a result, our uniforms will make up 90% of our clothing allowance. That is about like it is now for practical purposes. Our sleepwear and gymwear are all that we held back with the rest going back from Miami. The remainder is what we’ve purchased since then but that was also with the understand that it would go back to Pembroke in the first crate … and the clothing provided by Baird which he has insisted we keep since he’s already claimed it as an expense.

“Should I keep any of it?” I asked Vit once I got to that part of the closet.

“Keep the fur hat and perhaps the …” he tossed a hand towards the black dress slacks and peasant blouse I’d made good use of. He was considering his own wardrobe. “We may need casual clothes and these will be easy to care for.”

“Ah, my very practical colovik-krasien.” [handsome husband]

Vit’s face clears and he looks at me. “Only because you say it is so, but it is nothing compared to you my oszczadliwa druzhina [frugal wife].”

“Only for you.”

He blinked then shook his head to clear it. “None of that woman or we’ll not finish this task.”

I sighed. “Spoilsport.”

He chuckled knowing I was playing with him. “Wish it so easy to put this off but tomorrow we will both be busy. The last day of the students has come and I will be writing the reports all day and checking to make sure the equipment is mothballed.”

“So much fun. My heart can hardly stand it,” I said with a voice dripping in sarcasm.

“Ah. You are worried we are doing the correct thing?”

Caught so I put away my silliness and answered, “Not exactly. This ship has been our home for nearly nine months. If I understand correctly we will be changing ships frequently from here on out. Changing crews at the same time. Some that I have worked with all this time left the ship today without even a goodbye. It makes me wonder.”

“Hmm. I too was surprised at how quickly some personnel have left the ship. But then again this has been in the works almost since the beginning. Do you wish to speak of it?”

I shook my head. “Not really. I guess I just needed to have my feelings acknowledged so I wouldn’t feel so foolish. I just … I don’t know … expected at least a goodbye even if we wouldn’t be keeping in touch in the future.”

“And you think the students will be the same?”

“Oh I know that is going to happen. I learned my lesson with Frankie and Reggie. They grow up, don’t need me. I kept my emotional distance better this time. Did not become so attached.”

“Not even with the Baird children?”

“Not even with them though I enjoyed the Science Club and their friends. It is simply time for them to move on to the next … level.”

Vit came over and took me in his arms. “And so it is for us as well. We are moving on to the next level. There will be new, but there will also be sameness. It was confirmed that Yegor and Polina will continue in their roles.”

I went limp in relief. “Well that is a huge concern off my shoulders.”

“Yes. And we travel with them by train day after tomorrow. Others will fly.”

“How …?” And then I saw the manilla folder on the table.

He said, “I thought you had read it already. Do you wish to do so now?”

“Nii. Just give me a run down while I get these clothes folded and into the crate.”

I won’t record all the details as they are boring and I’m finally exhausted after not using good sense and drinking a bottle of pop too late at night. We are packed except for the last of the laundry and our hygiene bags. That will simply have to wait for tomorrow.
 

Kathy in FL

Administrator
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Chapter 223: Sep 6 – Copenhagen, Denmark

This is the last day that everyone is going to be on the Bonhoeffer. In fact, many crewmembers have already gone to their new assignments are returned home in the case of many of the civilian personnel. The ship is almost painfully quiet as I write out today’s happenings.

Vit and I have been packing a little bit each day into our allotted gym bag using the newest compression bags to make sure everything fits and is under the 50-pound limitation. I’m thankful we did so as it helped the day to be calmer. I heard too many were still scrambling to figure the issue out and trying to figure out how to empty their storage lockers.

At the last moment we found out we also are allowed a shared duffle bag packed in the same way that will travel separately and be waiting at what Vit calls our next assignment. Rather than tossing everything in there all higgledy piggledy, I insisted that it too be organized to maximize space. We’ll have to take our carry-ons with us on the train and a day of extra clothes in case the duffle bag is late getting to whatever our new cabin is.

While Vit finished closing his department, I took the high school students on one last excursion before wishing them a peace-filled and blessing-filled future. The first was an hour-long canal cruise. It was drizzly and a cool 63F. I’m glad I hadn’t packed my rain jacket away yet, I needed it as we stepped aboard our boat and found a comfortable spot on the outdoor deck, leaving the salon to the other tourists, some of whom had younger children with them. An older gentleman noticed and made time to tell the students, “Good kids, you lot.” It wasn’t much but I could tell several of the students appreciated it.

Then it was time to sit back and take in the picturesque sights as we glided along Copenhagen’s canals and harbor waters. Every turn and twist revealed a new, photo-worthy sight and a bit of history to go with it provided by the crew over the loud speaker. One of the most notable was the Little Mermaid statue, inspired by the Hans Christian Andersen fairy tale. We learned about Copenhagen’s rich history from the onboard guide as well. We drifted by the Amalienborg Palace – the winter residence of Denmark’s royals since the 1700s – and passed Copenhagen Opera House, a stunning contemporary building that stands on the harborside. We cruised around the pretty canals of Christianshavn, with its cobbled streets, pastel-colored houses and old warehouses. There was also the Church of Our Saviour with its winding-staircase spire where we heard how King Christian IV established the district in the 1600s as part of his plans to fortify Copenhagen. We passed a host of other famous buildings, such as the Old Stock Exchange, famous for its unusual spire, and sailed by the island of Slotsholmen in the city center. We returned to our starting jetty and hurried to meet our next guide and activity, a going away surprise for the students.

“Well, what did you expect?” I asked with a laugh. “I still don’t know where some of you have put all the food you’ve eaten since January. We’re lucky the B didn’t sink.”

The chaperones had a good laugh at the students and the students had a good laugh at themselves as we took a two and a half hour tour called “Eat Copenhagen: Vikings to New Nordic Food Culture Walking Tour.” The guide was a good one, normally working with university age students. He was a perfect fit for our group; jolly without being childish. Even the youngest of our students enjoyed how he presented a subject that could be a little dry if you weren’t a foodie.

In the process we didn’t just learn what people eat in Denmark, but why. We also stopped at four places for delicious food that we’d learned about and between times saw several iconic sites. First stop was at Mo Christianshavn, we we walked along the canals of the 400-year-old neighborhood, sometimes called Little Amsterdam. Then there was Our Saviour's Church where we heard secret stories of the iconic church as we explored what religion has to do with Viking food culture. Next was the North Atlantic House where we paused to explore how food helped to build Denmark´s North Atlantic Empire. Lastly we stopped at the Copenhagen Opera House to head out towards the naval island of Holmen and learn about the maritime history of Danish Pastry.

As we walked back to where the B was docked I gave the students hand wipes … which a few used to wipe their mouths with when they couldn’t reach the few crumbs they’d left unconsumed.

“Well, this was our last outing.”

“Gah, don’t start the girls up. They were already sniffling this morning. Me sister already looks like a watering pot.”

Said sister looked like she was about to take a swing at him and in her shoes I would likely have felt the same. The young man could be abrasive on occasion, but I didn’t begrudge him. His parents were ten times worse. He was a lamb compared to them and he was a ferocious defender of his sister and their younger twin brothers.

“Fine. Nothing mushy. But if you don’t mind, I’d like to share a few things I learned along the way as I survived what you have ahead of you. I figure it is the least I can do and let’s just say I’m paying things forward.”

Most of them gave me their polite attention. The few who didn’t were the ones that I knew were in for a long hard slog into the maturity that university and adulthood would require of them.

“Congratulations but don’t celebrate just yet. Prepare to face the fact that titles held in high school lose their significance in the post-graduation world. What matters now is the work you put into your life, not what you accomplished in high school. Never be satisfied with your achievements, be prepared to become an over-achiever.

Be ready to become the person you always wanted to be. This is a time for transformation. Humans have a hard time breaking out of the personas they choose for themselves, but you are at the perfect age to become whatever you choose.

Make as many friends as possible, not just acquaintances. We all get comfortable within our little tribe of friends. You will be saying goodbye to many good ones, but plenty more are waiting for you out there. Meet as many of them as possible.

Be open to new experiences. Have goals and high standards. The most rewarding paths are ones with a prize at the end; not because of the prize, but because of the path itself. The road may split or even become a mountain, but never let it stop you and learn as much as you can along the way. Know what you want and have some idea of how you will get there. You may have to stop and change course on occasion, but never stop moving forward.

Prepare for there to be challenges. Brace yourself for the future. Think on your feet when changes come and learn to adapt. Your career path may become obsolete, or some gadget will transform your field forever. My Poppa used to say, “Those with their eyes on Yesterday will get smacked in the face by Tomorrow.” I find that to be truer every year I grow older.

And here’s a bit of life I learned from watching other people when I was your age: Alcohol will play a part in your life, it’s nearly inevitable even if you never take a sip. Just don’t let it become your life, whether that means your own habits or the habits of the people you associate with.

Don’t allow yourself to be stupid. Let yourself feel good about learning every day. Don't be lazy and write off a failure or use it as an excuse to slow down. Embrace both your talents and the hurdles that you may not be able to overcome right away. If some laugh at your hard work and success, then let them laugh their lives away.

And here’s a bit of practical advice. Start job searching now. Make connections. You need to build your skills in order to do a job, but a strong connection will make you 80 percent more likely to get it. Learn to network with success-oriented people. Perhaps was on the greatest talents in life with the greatest reward is the skill of being trustworthy and of being able to discern those whom you can trust. That skill alone will take you farther than you can imagine.”


We had reached the gangplank and after a few hugs and handshakes, I ushered them up but remained at the bottom while they were met by their family and hurried away to finish packing or to their cabins to grab their bags for leaving. As Vit stated, it wasn’t just the students that were going on to new things. So were he and I.
 

Kathy in FL

Administrator
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Chapter 224: Sep 7 - Train Day (Sunday)

Ugh. I’m exhausted. I’m not the only one. Vit gently snores after face-planting on the bed. Our schedule has gone something like this. We were up early and I grabbed several boxed meals for Polina, Yegor, Vit, and I while the others took care of our personal gear and got it loaded into the waiting conveyance. It wasn’t all that long to reach Copenhagen Noerreport but the place was packed and the other three practically herded me like a duckling until we were on the train. They claim it is because they didn’t want me dropping the food but I have my doubts. LOL

I handed out the breakfast boxes and we ate during the nearly five-hour trip to Hamburg Hbf where we transferred after a two-hour train ride to Osnabrueck hbf. We ate our boxed lunch during that stretch which freed up my hands to help with transferring our carry-ons to the next stretch of three hours to Amsterdam Central. That train station was worse than all the others combined but we were finally picked up and transferred to ship. A total of ten hours on the trains plus transfers.

We actually weren’t the only ones transferring by train. There were a few other senior staff and personnel traveling with us while most traveled by plane. As crowded as the train was, it turns out to be a much better option as those who had to take a plane had long layovers and long lines through security where the old pandemic policies were still practiced.

I hesitate to record this bit, but I will simply because it explains some of my feelings from the day. During the train ride I once again felt eyes on the back of my neck. This time the eyes felt decidedly hostile thought I hesitated to mention it at all due in part to how the others were acting and due in part to the fact I didn’t know if my emotions were causing me to overreact. However Vit sensed my discomfort and asked if I wished to switch seats.

“Nii, you like the aisle seat so that you can stretch if necessary. Just, if you get up to walk, let us do it together.”

“Veta?” I think he was concerned I was having an anxiety attack or similar. My sleep had been broken and I finally just got out of bed and finished packing my remaining hygiene items and night clothes until Vit woke up. I suppose I did look a little rough around the edges.

Yegor saved me from having to explain when he came to sit in the train seats in front of us. “Zasramets (rude Russian description) three seats back. He realized I made him, and he is now leaving the compartment. I recognize him from a group that were anti-Ukrainian, at the last station … that group with their idiot placards. He must have heard you speaking to one another. Switch to Russian until we leave those duraks (jackasses in Russian) and transfer to the last train.”

“Yes,” Vit said with a deadly tone.

“Polina is coming with some food. We will eat and rest in case there is a situation at the next station.”

Nothing happened for which I am very grateful. In fact at the nearest station stop we watched the man hurry off, with three others.

That is the last of it but it still made me very uncomfortable. We haven’t had to deal with any of that lately. I need to become more aware of the possibilities and keep it in mind from here on out. I told Vit my thoughts later and he seemed relieved not to have to be the one to bring it up. I’ll speak with Polina at some point and explain. Hopefully it doesn’t give her a distrust of me being able to do my job.

We arrived at the ship before most of new crew and personnel. The few that traveled with us were stumbling with fatigue and I took them in hand and got them to their quarters. Polina and Yegor headed to their assigned cabin and Vit to ours. He played “mule” and moved our gear while I played errand girl and picked up the packets waiting for us as well as Polina and Yegor.

When I walked in “different cabin arrangement” was a decided understatement. Our room is a “French balcony” on the middle deck. It measures 135 sq ft. As an XO it is supposed to be a privilege to have it. Sure. Uh huh. The cabins with a window-only view are bigger at 150 sq ft but that is good since they are twin bed set ups for people to room together, some even bunk four people. Can you imagine four people sharing 150 square feet, including the bathroom?

French balcony isn’t really a balcony but a slider that opens up to a glass barrier right by the bed. We have a desk but no “sitting area” so we either sit on the bed or on the stool at the desk when in the cabin. It supposedly is to encourage people to “live” in the common areas. Vit was not sure whether the so-called privilege was real or a prank. I didn’t care so long as we were together. To lighten the mood I said, “Oh dear, guess we’ll just have to spend more time in bed.” Finally Vit smiled and then laughed, willing to be teased out of his mood. He also took the time to go with Yegor to find out more about the ship while Polina and I “freshened up” and read our orders.

The ship is the former Viking Aegir, a 445’ long river ship repurposed for this mission. There is a sense of minimalism, and not just in the cabins. Every area of the ship reflects this Scandinavian trait. Unlike the B, all crew and diplomatic corp and their support staff will use the same areas, a reversal of the class system we had grown used to. The only exception to this is the Bridge, Security offices, and Communication rooms. There are 95 “state rooms” that ARE divided by “class” and rank. Vit and I share one of the 22 French balcony cabins. Additionally there are 25 standard cabins, 39 veranda cabins, 7 veranda suites, and 2 explorer’s suites (converted to work space). There are also traditional crew quarters that are strictly reserved for the Captain and crew serving those duties as well as some of the crew assigned to the ship by the company “loaning” the ship to the mission. The ship is capable of carrying 190 passengers and 48 crew members under normal circumstances but basically 238 people will live and work aboard the Aegir while in service to the Peace Mission.

It was at this point that I discovered I am an “assistant” to the person that is essentially the entertainment director that keeps the diplomats, their SOs (for those that brought theirs along), and their staff from getting at each other’s throats any more than necessary. In my position I will be both security (under Polina) and social assistant (Under Chief Gunder). I will also help with translations when needed though they finally brought in the newest translation machines thanks to Dylan’s company. In some instances I will also be the entertainment as she plays the violin. Vit wasn’t pleased about that. He thinks I’m being taken advantage of.

“I don’t care.”

“What?!”

“Vit, it keeps us together. Let them call it whatever they wish. To me it is a means to an end.”

“Ah, my Kokhana. But I will not let it be like it was before. You will only do this additional thing if it does not harm you.” I think Vit overdoes it a bit, but we shall see.

I’m more concerned if I’ll be up for the job. I have few resources to prepare for an itinerary I know nothing about as of yet. I get the feeling that Chief Gunder doesn’t know yet either but he is a jolly man and covers up remaining questions with ease. He pointed me to a series of travel guides on the shelves in the ship’s library where I can do research for each port to help make the prearranged excursions more interesting. I was also issued a tablet that has wifi that is both a way for me to write and submit reports, and a tool for keeping track of any personnel in my groups while on shore. It will have a cell signal off-ship so I can also use it to try and answer any questions that are asked during excursions.

Vit’s position is as Mr. Baird explained. He is onboard liaison between longboat crew members, military staff, and civilian staff; mostly overseeing the security equipment if not the actual communications (which is Yegor’s position) as well as making sure that the longboat crew has what they need as far as supplies. Polina and Yegor are in the same type of cabin as Vit and I. Polina is once again security chief and Yegor is communications chief so all four of us will work closely together.

Here is where the first SNAFU reared its head. The ship is still being fitted and supplies brought on so the four of us had to make ourselves scarce. The other early crew were more interested in sleeping that anything else but the four of us did not feel like sitting on the dock for what remained of the day. Chief Gunder gave me some free tickets and a debit card to pay for expenses in my manila folder. I showed them to Vit who asked the others if they are game. It is Yegor that said, “We have to eat anyway.” Polina shrugged and nodded as she had not been cleared to take over security from the previous Chief until in the morning and was feeling at loose ends as she’d been expecting to go over personnel rosters.

Where on earth Yegor puts all the food he eats is beyond me. He reminds me a bit of Charlie in that respect. Strangely they are both built along the same body type; stocky yet somehow lean at the same time, and they are both deceptively strong.

Let’s see, what was on the menu … Dutch apple pie that I managed to snag the recipe for to compete with Angelia’s at the next Thanksgiving feast. Three types of farmhouse Gouda cheese and bitterballen, a kind of meatball croquet. Satay from an Indonesian Surinamese took. Sausages and cold mets at an 128-year-old butcher’s shop. Herring and kiddeling at a fish shop that had been run by the same family since 1880. And last but not least puffy Dutch pancakes in a 250-year-old former canal house.

The food put all of us in a better frame of mind. The good wine didn’t hurt either. Now we are back on the ship and I’m unpacking what I can as my day starts early tomorrow.
 

Kathy in FL

Administrator
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Chapter 225: Sep 8 - Amsterdam, The Netherlands (1)

Sunrise was not until 7:02 am but morning twilight started at 4:59 am thankfully otherwise my body’s clock would have been dragging the entire day. Yegor, Vit, and Polina were shocked that there would not even be coffee or tea for hours yet. Luckily for them “Bratty Little Sister” had insisted on bringing our leftovers back last night so they could at least have breakfast. And I snuck out my electric kettle and yaupon tea. Yegor made the worst face at his first sip of the tea then looked inside his mug and said, “I like it. You will share what this is.”

I laughed. “Ask Vit. I can hear Chief Gunder hailing me from here. Wish me luck. It looks like that kind of day already. I’ll try and find an Aldi or similar and at least bring back some cheese and crackers for a small meal that will hold everyone until dinner.”

For that I got a ridiculously disorienting kiss before grabbing my daypack, the tablet, and hurrying to the start of my day. Today the remainder of the staff, crew, and diplomats were to show up. Mr. Baird was with them but thankfully Henry would manage his office and personal items. As I was to find out, Barney had to remain at the estate and take care of some of Mr. Baird’s personal business. She may rejoin up in Budapest. Yes, I said Budapest. The children are off to school and Mr. Baird’s personal business was announcing that Sofie was now his fiancé but that part I didn’t hear until later.

First came the other staff. “Chief Gunder? You were hailing me?”

“Ack. Goot. Yes I was. The communicator will send but it will not receive.”

“Here let me look.” He had the headset plugged into the tablet and had the Bluetooth on at the same time. The equipment did not appreciate that.

“Ahhhh, much better,” the man sighed happily. “Now for today. We have multiple waves of crew and personnel coming aboard through out the day. Two of the largest groups will need to be kept off ship until the smaller groups can be absorbed and directed to assigned quarters. The first is already here, well ahead of schedule … or late as they were to arrive last night but missed a connecting flight but they are now ahead of our ability to bring them aboard. I was able to arrange a canal cruise and walking tour. I need you to keep them off for three hours. They say they have already eaten … better than we’ve had … so it will just be a matter of amusing them for a short time. Yes?”

Chief Gunder spoke excellent English though, like Vit, his syntax becomes strange when he is stressed or rushed. And his German accented-English can seem brusque which did not necessarily match his jolly and usually kind face. He had a lot of people waiting on him for other things so I took the packet and decided it couldn’t be worse than herding cats or teenagers. I was … mistaken.

“Good morning! Does everyone have their communicators? Yes? What about their translators? Working for everyone? Good, good. I see a few familiar faces. Those that know me or were on the B will be familiar with the excursion programs made available on off-duty days. Be sure and sign up in a timely manner. Our roster of people is smaller but so too are the number of excursions. No one will be left out, but you might not get first pick by procrastinating. The process for that should be in your onboarding packet and is also available on the in-cabin edu-screen. So far, those screens work better than the ones on the B so you’ll be able to use them for more than watching soap opears.” I got a few hoorays for that bit of news. “Your personal effects will arrive and be delivered to your cabin while we are out. And if you could, let me know if there are any allergies so we can avoid any problems. Let’s get started before we get run over before the sun is even all the way up.”

I was enthralled as those I was leading … well sort of leading, more like poking and shoving with the occasional bit of dragging. Luckily Chief Gunder had acquired us a local guide who was very good at his job which meant that my job was mostly to keep the herd moving and out of trouble. The trouble part thankfully no one was interested in. The moving in the same direction was a little more challenging to say the least.

We discovered Amsterdam in a manner I wasn’t used to moving … leisurely. But even at that pace some of the group didn’t keep up without prodding. And the first part of the tour was on one of the city’s famous glass-topped canal boats. Oh my goodness. I’m not kidding.

Amsterdam is home to 165 canals that wind their way through the cityscape, spanning a total of 31 miles. One thousand two hundred and eighty-one different bridges cross over the canals. We saw some of the city’s oldest and loveliest buildings; from narrow-fronted gabled houses to gilded manses adorned with riches during the height of Holland’s Golden Age. There were interesting vessels, including many charming houseboats moored canal-side. We traveled from an area called the Golden Bend to Overhoeks, the city’s newest quarter, and from the Music Building to the replica of the 18th-century ship Amsterdam moored outside the Maritime Museum. We also passed the wooden double drawbridge known locally as “Skinny Bridge,” and famous in many paintings and postcards.

I almost had to lever some of the group out of their chairs and off the canal boat. Getting them to actually walk back to the ship required a fortification of coffee. While they stood in line and the guide cut me a break, and while praying they would continue to act like adults, I ran into an Aldi to pick up some deli items. For all that, I was faster than the coffee-swillers and in gratitude I bought our guide his own coffee gaining me an appreciative grin.

I got the first group back to the longboat only to find another group had arrived. I spotted Yegor and asked him to split the Aldi supplies with Vit and Polina while I grabbed the new group and headed off to another excursion to keep the chaos down to a dull roar as Poppa was known to say. Yegor’s face was funny when I tossed the Aldi grocery bag at him, but I didn’t have time to enjoy it because Chief Gunder was bearing down on me with the tickets and the group, slightly more lively than the previous group had been. I’m still not sure whether to be grateful for that or not. The intranet was finally working he said so to forward my notes to him. I sent him the notes I made on the personnel in the first group (including a severe dairy allergy).

“Hello! You’ve met Chief Gunder and now, for those that don’t know me I am Chief Veta Dymtrus. Let’s get out of the chaos shall we?” I wound up have to give the two-fingered whistle I’d learned from Devin to get their attention. Sigh. More cat herding, this time towards a waiting bus. While on the bus I gave the same spiel as I had to the first group and gathered what information I could, filling in the blanks as needed.

More time was needed to absorb the first group and some of the diplomats who had no interest in the excursions so this excursion was going to be five hours long. Most of it walking over 70 acres. Keukenhof Gardens. Wow. Well first an ugh. It is a fifty-minute bus ride each way to get to the gardens. Most of the group snoozed after being none too pleased about having to get off one bus just to get on another one. I could sympathize but life is what it is and it was a free treat. There was no need for some of the grumbling and rumbling I heard, or that language being used. Hopefully it gets around how many different languages I speak. I saw those who already knew me bring the other personnel up to speed. I got a few disbelieving looks but at least there was fewer “fuss and feathers” from them.

It was nice to see some of the Dutch countryside as we toodled along in a very comfortable bus, and then we arrived for a behind the scenes tour. The gardens are normally only opened 8 weeks of the year in the Spring. What we saw was the preparation for what happens in the Spring. Each autumn, forty gardeners plant the seven million bulbs, donated to the park by over 100 growers. Planting starts early October and is usually completed by early December. The most interesting fact is that the flowerbeds are synchronized to the different bulb flowerings to ensure blooms throughout the duration of park's 8-week opening. How this works is that to ensure continuous blooms, three different bulbs are planted in each location/hole. The shallowest bulb will bloom first for three weeks, followed by the subsequent layers.

In addition to the tulip gardens, Keukenhof features a variety of other gardens. The English landscape garden features winding paths and surprise see-through vistas. The walled area of the historical features archival varieties. In the Nature Garden shrubs and perennials are combined with bulb plants. The Japanese Country Garden is a non-traditional garden in a natural environment. Four pavilions house rotating displays and flower exhibits.

It really was beautiful even without tulips in bloom. And I came back with an extraordinary number of postcards, each devoted to a different tulip. And … a bag of mixed tulip bulbs. It was not nearly as funny as Vit made it seem when he found out tonight after mistaking them for a bag of onions

Back to the ship with most of the second group sagging in fatigue. The first group had been assigned quarters and the second group’s assignments were waiting on them. I had hoped to grab something to eat, unfortunately not. There was a third group – who had been stuck in airport security due to an incident on their flight and arrived late – who needed to be kept off-ship until the first two groups were processed. Because you know, just because you have a cabin number doesn’t mean you get to use the cabin. There were uniforms to pick up, assignments to receive, documents to sign and date stamp, etc. ad nauseum. At least with the third group I didn’t need to keep them gone as long. Just long enough to process some of the bodies and the remainder of the personal gear.

Chief Gunder understands people need to eat to keep the hangries at bay. Group 3 got a one-hour comprehensive Dutch cheese tasting experience. A local cheese producer – Henri Willig – provided a guide that gave us insight into the production of cheese. From ancient to modern times. The group got to try five different types accompanied with beer and/or wine. I abstained even though by then I could have used a glass of wine.

I’m thinking I was home free once I got Group 3 back to the ship. Uh, nope. There was one more group of people that should have been with the first group. Since they needed to stay off the ship through the dinner hour Chief Gunder came up with a plan to take them on a night walk where we stopped for snacks and drinks giving the galley time to feed groups one, two, and three and prepare for the unexpected group four that had supposedly been changed to arriving tomorrow. There was the Herengracht where we learned about the West India House and its significance during the Golden Age. The Royal Palace Amsterdam to see it illuminated at night. We spent thirty minutes walking along the Emperor's Canal (Keizersgracht) and getting a bracing drink and finger sandwich to go with the beautifully illuminated canals. We stopped at the Jordaan, a trendy neighborhood. Last stop was Noordermarkt, the 'place to be' on the weekend. We ended the walk there at a typical Dutch bar. Let’s just say the Dutch are boisterous when in a good mood.

By the time I got that group, thankfully the last group, back to the longboat I was topped off. All I wanted was a shower and a glass of wine. Shower first however as I wasn’t sure if Vit had even had time to get off the ship long enough to breathe much less find a bottle for our miniscule refrigerator. I nearly forgot to take my uniform off. I was standing there with the water pouring over my head when Vit joined me. No hanky panky but a lot of holding onto each other.

“Kokhana? You are well?” he asked while running his hands through my hair, an act he knows I enjoy.

I snorted. “If I was not sure before I am quite sure now that I like students better than adults. And I hope the stiff rumped crankies some of them had today was more a result of jet lag or lack of sleep than it is their normal personalities.”

“Yes. This crew is … different. I foresee personality clashes, particularly between the military and civilian groups.”

“Are smaller crews normally like this?”

“Nii. Fewer numbers require greater cohesion for best work atmosphere. Today has been a bit like being back on the O’Meg only with too many guests all demanding attention at the same time.”

Understanding his feelings too well I told him, “They’re employees, not guests. Just because some of them come with a bigger price tag doesn’t mean they can treat the rest of us like hired hands.”

“Ah. You have met some of the diplomatic staff.”

“And nearly tossed them in a canal. I need to write up a report on some of the issues for both Polina and Chief Gunder. I suspect some will need to be kept to different excursions.”

“Or lose the privilege,” Vit added. “Such behavior should not be acceptable.”

“Agreed.”

It is at this point that I learned of the real reason that Barney would be absent for a couple of weeks. Mr. Baird’s “personal business” is that he had installed Sofia as his fiancé and Barney is there to guide her through what is undoubtedly going to be a challenging household change.

At the sour face Vit made I said, “I take it that Henry was being Henry.”

“Yes. I had to hear how the children are taking it in stride because Sofia has never done anything to usurp their mother’s/step-mother’s position and spoke with them that if they objected she would remain Mr. Baird’s mistress but give up the idea of marriage. Then I had to hear that Edda spoke for them all when she said, ‘All I care about is Da being happy. You keep that in mind and there won’t be any trouble and we can tell everyone else to stuff it.’ I was barely able to escape before more of what you call the TMI was shared. Henry was very amused. I, was not.”

I did my best not to laugh but I suspect that is what Vit was actually trying to cause when he said, “Ah, that is better. Unfortunately all I was able to get you was some fruit before the Mess Hall closed. Tell me you ate with your groups.”

“Some but I would love a glass of wine.”

“Nii. No wine Love. First comes food and then I have a surprise for you.”

I sighed. “You spoke with Derrick.” I knew the tone. I was about to be smothered with love and concern.

“Your brat was checking to make sure you are well. And to make sure you are taking your supplements.”

“If I take any more supplements I will jingle when I walk. Honestly. Both of you conspire to treat me like I am two years old.”

“Nii Kokhana. And to prove it, you will drink your surprise.”

My “surprise” was something called Anijsmelk. It is an old Dutch drink consisting of hot milk, anise seed, and sugar. It is traditionally enjoyed as a nightcap because the warmth of the milk and the calming qualities of star anise have relaxing effects and promote sleep. Well, I couldn’t fault him for his choice, and I may have to lay in a supply as it can be purchased in shelf stable drink boxes. Vit still fell asleep before I did but that was understandable. His day sounded even more difficult than mine, just on the equipment side of things.

But speaking of days, it is time to crawl into bed and let the anijsmelk finish working. I’m half asleep as it is. Tomorrow is another day and I suspect I am going to be running quite a bit more than I did with the students.
 

Kathy in FL

Administrator
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Chapter 226: Sep 9 - Amsterdam, The Netherlands (2) - Part 1

This new way of doing things is going to take some getting used to. To address space availability in the excursions, and to keep them to a reasonable size, most excursion tours from this point forward will be shorter and there will be more than one per day. I’m still not sure if it is the best use of the time we have but then again I’m not sure there is any other way to handle it either. Today was longer than normal as the last diplomats, equipment, and supplies were brought on board and the last of the personnel that showed up in the wee hours would have to wait for all of the onboarding.

Some opted not to go on the excursion which was actually a relief for me as the group had been more than one bus full. Personnel will not be required to join a provided opportunity on their days off. They can walk the towns themselves or even be free to arrange a private tour (which they would then pay for themselves). There is the understanding that you will be back and onboard at sailing … or else. I am sure other things will come up but Chief Gunder seems to be very experienced in this area and he and Polina also seem to work well together. I’m glad. Fewer conflicts makes Veta a happy girl.

I have already discovered one issue that needs to be addressed ad Polina is already on it, though it isn’t strictly her purview. It doesn’t take near as long to get on and off the ship and through security due to the fact that there are fewer people doing it but it is still challenging, especially when someone has a lot of packages they need to take through the scanners. I made note of the issue in today’s report and cc’d both Gunder and Polina. Chief Gunder said he would get with the Chief of Housekeeping and Maintenance if Polina (“Chief Ivanov”) would, as Chief of Security, send out a notice to all personnel.

Everyone received the notice tonight. All baggage must be stowed at all times when not in use for safety reasons. The cabins are smaller with less storage space – though I must I adore the under the bed storage space – and housekeeping needs to be able to get in and out of the cabins they are servicing quickly and efficiently.

Housekeeping is different on this ship. First off, I did the housekeeping for our cabin on the B. On this ship there is a need – due to space limitations – for housekeeping to be more regimented. We will still do the majority of our own housekeeping but rather than having to wash the sheets I will simply put the sheets in a central laundry collection location at which time I will then requisition the next sheet set and sign for them. Additionally, housekeeping will come in and do the floors, windows, and bathrooms. This housekeeping will also act as an inspection process to make sure everyone is taking care of their personal responsibilities. The practices are not what some expected or are used to. Many in the diplomatic area are having to get over the fact they have to do their own housekeeping.

The other issue that the new personnel and staff are being reminded of is the 24/7 security cameras and that even if they don’t think a camera is going, to behave as if it were since someone else’s camera could be pointed in their direction. And whether it is one of our cameras or someone else’s, behavior unbecoming is grounds for immediate dismissal from the Peace Mission. They’d already signed their agreement to those terms and conditions but apparently the reminder was a timely one as the “freebies” are now over and they could thank the group that got a drunk on right before leaving the pier and nearly being late for sailaway.

I really hate playing playground monitor and in fact told someone today that I won’t since everyone on the A is an adult. That went over well, not. But we are in shake down mode as well as everything else. Slackers are not welcome and the sooner everyone realizes it and gets on the same page, the more successful the mission will be.

All of this is going through my head tonight as I watch an extremely exhausted Vit sleep. Polina says that Yegor is much the same. I said, “Don’t take this the wrong way but you don’t look much better. And I’ve seen how everyone else looks in the Mess Hall. Is something going on?”

“Some of the same as was on the B but we have less time and less privacy to deal with it. Your brother is very good but even he can’t catch everything when there are those that conspire from within.”

“Oh no. Anyone in particular I need to be careful of or watch?”

“You would do this? It is not It is not part of your duties.”

“To keep our husbands looking and feeling like burnt toast? Absolutely.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “Let me consider this. Until or if I give you a specific name, watch for the small things that says someone is meeting with someone not in this crew, hand offs, leaving the ship with something and not coming back with it, or coming back with something that is not a sourvenir or the like. Da?”

“Yes. Similar to what I watched for with the students.”

“Unfortunately yes. But do not intervene unless what they do endangers the group.”

This morning didn’t start off with any 007 crap. The Mess Hall was busy and people were drinking coffee like it was mother’s milk but other than that I had no premonition. But I supposed being eleven and a half hours away from the ship was bound to allow for problems.

The topics of today’s excursion was Zaanse Schans (windmills), Delft, The Hague, and Madurodam (a family park) tour outside of Amsterdam. Vit wasn’t jumping up and down in joy but he wasn’t as concerned had we been in an eastern European location either. Plus we started exceptionally early and there wasn’t time for him to get too concerned, or at least exhibit it.

I hope this feeling of herding cats subsides as the mission continues. I felt like I needed to put some of my group on a leading string. Gah! They may have been good at their jobs, one would assume at least since they made it through the selection process, but some of them seemed to be scatterbrained and too easily distracted otherwise. I was glad we had a guide so that I could spend my time keeping track of everyone.

We had a nice city tour en route to our first stop, the Zaanse Schans. Per our guide, “The Zaanse Schans is a residential area in which the 18th and 19th centuries are brought to life. Despite the fact that visitors from all over the world visit this neighborhood every day, it is good to know that people still live here. Keep this in mind during your visit. Stroll past the bakery museum and enjoy the smell of fresh cookies, or take a look at the warehouse where clogs are made. You should be sure not to miss the cheese factory, pewter foundry and the various windmills. The Zaanse Schans is a unique part of the Netherlands, full of wooden houses, mills, barns and workshops.”

Each person in our group was given a special card that granted them entry into each of the museums. It was no ordinary card either. To use it they had to press their thumb into the reader on the card which activated it so that the reader on the museum entry gate would recognize them and let them through. What they did know is that the card had a tracker on it, my tablet could keep track of them. Another “upgrade” from Dylan’s group, it was both a security and safety tool, and a tracker that could be used for other reasons. I am essentially beta testing it. If it works with no problems for a week, each personnel will get one assigned to them that will be used both on and off the ship that they must keep with them at all times. It will even be used in the Mess Hall and security access in passageways. I can also see Dylan trying to track me with it for family reasons. Ha. If I catch him doing it I’ll teach him just how much he and Devin have taught me, then we’ll see what kind of bugs can be found.

I should stop recording this stuff. I sound subversive. I’m not. I’m actually tired of all the rule-breakers and terrorists and anarchists and all the rest. I don’t want to get lumped in with them. And I definitely don’t want to endanger Vit’s green card and ability to gain citizenship. I need to be careful how far certain people push me. Cany you tell that we didn’t get rid of our personal paparazzi? What I wouldn’t have given to have a certain Mr. Reid lost overboard. And saying that I should decide whether to go back and delete these comments or add another level of encryption. Since nothing is ever really completely deleted, I’ll probably just spend some time adding some more encryption and security levels to my personal devices and make sure this one disconnects from being sync’d with the others … just in case.

I gave everyone an absolute meeting time to be back and then set the free. They hadn’t expected it. “What? You expected me to treat you like children? Ha! Go have fun. Make memories. Enjoy yourselves. Learn about the people of The Netherlands. You have your translators and you can contact me through your comm link. Everyone knows what to do in case of an emergency but let’s try not to have one. Not all of the excursions that will be offered will operate in this way so take advantage while you can. Tomorrow the next leg of the mission officially begins and we’ll all have much work to do. Just please, don’t make me come looking for you. It will have to go in my report and none of us needs any more paperwork.”

That last got a few chuckles but at least they finally started to use some enthusiasm and fan out. A few refused to walk about on their own and that was fine as I didn’t mind since it was my job and it gave me time in a smaller group to get to know some of them. About a third of the group knew me from the B and lucky for me that acted like I was trustworthy despite being a Chief in security. My “odd” designation was as confusing as ever and I got some startled looks from a few of the new personnel.
 

Kathy in FL

Administrator
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Chapter 226 - Part 2

I ignored it as much as I had on the B and utilized the tools I had to help all of us to take advantage of what was being offered. We started with the windmills. There were twelve of them, and they were all large and imposing save for the last two that were considered a “mini” windmills. A guide sign read, “In addition to the magnificent industrial windmills, there are two miniature windmills at the Zaanse Schans. Meadow mill ‘De Hadel’, was relocated to Zeilemakerspad in 1968. It was originally built in the late 19th century and was used to pump water out a polder. Originally the little mill was located in Midwoud, a small village in North Holland. The second mini-mill is De Windhond, the last crushed stone mill from the Zaan area. The little mill has nine pounders and a grindstone. In earlier times young people built these little mills everywhere on farmers’ yards or on small barns. They made some extra money by pulverising broken sandstone mill stones from other mills into crushed stone. This fine sand was an excellent for sanding and for use as an abrasive.” Thankfully I was able to translate the sign with only a little help from the translator on my tablet. A few of the words I had to spell because they certainly didn’t come out the way the tablet could understand and everyone got a good laugh out of it.

In addition to the windmill museum there were houses and factories set up into museums. The favorite of the day was the Bakery Museum. This building the museum is in dates from 1658. The original bakery, with its authentic bread oven and beautiful marbled floor, was full of tempting goodies. The name of the museum comes from the Duivekater, a famous Zaanse sweet bread. And of course there was the opportunity to taste the Duivekater in the bakery, along with other traditional Dutch baked products and confectioneries. The bakery was donated to the Zaanse Schans in 1970.

There were also handicraft exhibits and experiences. The cheese farm, the clog workshop, the weaver’s house, the coopery where barrels are still made the old-fashioned way, a liqueur distillery that no one even tried to resist, and a very interesting pewter foundry where all the pieces are cast and finished by hand in molds as old as 1697.


There were other things of interests along the walking paths in the village but eventually it was time to go and I was relieved that everyone showed up on time though one group complained of not having enough time to see everything. I found out later that is mostly because they chose to go to a pancake shop and it took longer than anticipated despite the suggested by our lead guide that they go there last and get their treat to go.

We next drove to the quaint fishing village of Volendam. Many of the residents still wear traditional Dutch clothing. Quaint it may have been but it wasn’t what most would call small with nearly 25,000 residents. We kept to the “Old Town” area for a quick look around. This stop included a visit to a local cheese factory for a demonstration and a sampling of its dairy production. We also took the ferry boat to nearby Marken, another traditional fishing town. Here there were wooden stilt houses.

Once back to the bus we continued by coach to each destination on our afternoon tour. One stop I could definitely have done without. The Condomerie is the world’s first condom specialty shop that sells 1,00)+ types of condoms and lubricants. No, I am not kidding. Had they stood down from their unmerciful teasing I might have been able to agree that it was a interesting. And, of course, it was colorful because of the different colors of condoms painted with cute and what was supposed to be funny faces. This shop was certainly one of a kind.

We ate a quick lunch if provided boxed meals and then it was a drived to the picturesque town of Delft. Not everyone was thrilled … I mean the blue and white traditional pottery was lovely but certainly not to everyone’s taste. The fact that it is produced at the Royal Delft, the last remaining earthenware factory from the Golden Age of the 17th century was more interesting to the men. We viewed a large collection of Delft antiques at the museum and then were ushered through a gift shop until we were taken out to explore the historic city center independently. That meant everyone was free once again until it was time to reboard the bus. Most took advantage of their independence this time and walked past landmarks such as the Oostpoort (Eastern Gate), Waag (Weigh House), Oude Kerk (Old Church), and Nieuwe Kerk (New Church).

We had two late arrivals this time, but it was due in part to an improper fit of uniform shoes. They’d also notified me in plenty of time so I hadn’t needed to worry. I commended the two women for using the buddy system and contacting me as soon as they realized they’d be late. I did note it in my report but more so the one woman would be able to requisition new footwear without a hassle.

Back aboard the coach, we continued to The Hague, the former capital of the Netherlands and its third-largest city. Pass by Noordeinde Palace and the Houses of Parliament on a coach tour of the seat of the Dutch Parliament. We made a photo stop at the Peace Palace, which houses the International Court of Justice. All the while there was insightful commentary from our guide about the significance of these sites before continuing on to Madurodam, a famous miniature park.

It reminded me a bit of Legoland with its miniature scale models of Holland attractions replicated in minute detail, including Amsterdam’s canal houses, the Alkmaar cheese market, spinning windmills, and the world’s largest miniature railway. If the delft factor was primarily enjoyed by the women, Madurodam was enjoyed primarily by the men. I’m not even making any comments about that. There is an bit of engineer in most of the male species and they certainly got a kick out of those on display.

Everyone was able to take a final walk through the duty free shops before boarding and heading to their assigned cabins where their duty assignments and schedule were waiting. As I mentioned earlier, getting through security should not have taken as long as it did, but even I had a full backpack. Gouda cheese, miniature wooden clogs. Dutch licorice. And for Vit, Genever (also called Jenever), the traditional liquor of the Netherlands, from which gin has evolved. Some tasters say the flavor of this spirit is similar to white whiskey. I was told it is very good for mixing into cocktails, in fact many classic British gin cocktail recipes originally called for genever. Oude (old) genever is the traditional style, with a malty botanical flavor. Jonge (young) genever is a newer recipe with a cleaner taste, more similar to vodka. There are several genever distilleries in Amsterdam, each with their own secret recipes. Bols, the world's oldest distilled liquor brand, has been based in Amsterdam since 1585. I had also bought a bottle for Polina to give to Yegor.

I walked in and could tell she’d had a rough day. “Have you eaten?”

She snorted. “You sound like my husband.”

“Or the bratty little sister?”

“Da,” she said taking the bottle I afford her. “You seek to bribe me?”

I admitted it. I blinked, not know how to respond. She shook her head and chuckled tiredly. “You are too easy. We need to fix that. Sit and tell me of the running bezgolovye kury [headless chickens].”

I looked at her in commiseration. “That kind of day was it?”

“Da. That kind of day.”

We took the time to speak of things I thought most important and she spoke of what she considered most important. And then I pulled out the flyer for the The Condomerie. By the time I was finished explaining why I needed to get with Chief Gunder on such future excursions she was holding her side and saying, “So this explains the laughter I heard from the communication room. I will ask Yegor of it later.”

I also handed her two of the Stroopwaffles uneaten in people’s boxed lunches and I gave the other two to Vit. They were too sweet for me. The Mess Hall was a mess by the time I could sneak in. They were closing down but I was able to grab some cheese, crackers, and fruit and sat in the corner trying to decompress from the day and that is where Vit found me.

“Come, I have more for you than rabbit food. They are going to have to change the mess hall schedule to allow time for all shifts to grab a meal. It is one of the things that is being adjusted.”

The way he said it as we walked back to our cabin had me looking at his face more closely. “Oh dear. I take it one of the things is actually one of many things.”

“Yes,” he admitted with a great attempt at not frowning in frustration but I could tell.

I walked in and we spoke of our days and then he handed me his phone. “I had it shipped direct to Pembroke in care of Charlie.”

“It” was a set of delft dessert plates and tea cups as well as a few figurines.

“You will have the nice things for your home,” he said almost daring me to object.

“You are the nice thing for my home I am most enthralled with.”

“Ah. Is that so?”

Luckily the size of the cabin didn’t crimp our style. The day did a bit. Vit is exhausted. An equipment contractor sub-contracted out some maintenance work. That appears to be where most of the shenanigans have been found. The damage is not great but the time it wastes is problematic. They swept the ship three times now and found something new each time. Vit isn’t sure if it is the incompetence of the “sweepers” or the skill of those that placed what needs sweeping. It will not delay the sailaway … we are actually underway now … but it means that checks and rechecks in the coming days are going to be irritating.

I need to go over the schedule to make sure I understand things. While we are traveling on the long boat there will be no “sea days” at all. It will be almost two weeks before I have a traditional day off and it looks like Vit and I will be sharing it. Most of that time will will be traveling through Germany. After Germany is a few days in Austria and then a few days in Hungary and that will get us to October. Chief Gunder has sent me a outline of the proposed scheduled after that but with the notation, “nothing is written in brick.” Uh huh. He and Polina should get together and take that act on the road.
 
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