BROWN WATER RUNS DEEP
I think I mentioned before that we have a few water issues here. Well apart from the fact that we can't drink it and that it requires 10 or 15 minutes running in the mornings to receive hot water, we now have BROWN water issues. Well, I mean really brown, we always had a tinge of the Vandyke colour favoured by water colour artists but now it runs the colour of the type of tea favoured by builders, you could stand a spoon up in it!
I am lying actually, to have more impact. The truth is that it isn't all that bad NOW, but when we returned last weekend from our trip it was unusable. I was really reluctant to shower (of course I did but...), it was not possible to do the much overdue laundry and the problem was getting to be a larger issue.
On Monday, setting out on my morning errands, I was perturbed to see a wide, rather worn, canvas/plastic pipe leading down to a mains drain in our courtyard, with an enormous amount of bubbling and boiling pressurised water surging through it's precarious body, causing enough pressurised steam to run a train. This scene was taking place between me and the bins where I was supposed to dump my large bags of household rubbish.
I considered dumping my kitchen waste somewhere in a street bin but then raised the courage to pass to the bins. A vivid picture went through my head of this pipe, under enormous strain, suddenly popping up out of the mains drain and waving around in huge circles furiously blasting out scalding gallons of water over any idiot happening to be in the way and that was me done for. The workmen supposedly in charge of this event seemed to be unworried smoking their heads off and not paying attention but I'm sure this wouldn't be allowed anywhere half civilised.
CATS ON A HOT TIN ROOF
I decided to go along to a neighbour's flat for a coffee with the ladies who were spending the morning 'crafting' to take a look at their works.
My neighbour has the most brilliant view from her kitchen window which includes the Church of the Spilt Blood (that is the church in the picture above). However she also sees most of the rooftops on our side of town. It was astonishing to be able to see people up on the tiles going about their business. Some were working and repairing or seeing to satellite dishes but others seem to be up there purely for the heck of it! I suppose if you don't have a garden or balcony and it is a sunny day, why not? Well, I won't be caught on our roof. I do sometimes hear footsteps above us and we are on the top floor so someone goes up there.
My neighbour has seen someone slip down a roof before but fortunately the fella was saved.
A SMALL VICTORY FOR ME OVER THE DOMESTIC HELP
Upon my return to my flat after an eventful morning I found my cleaner standing by the door in her coat waiting to leave (it was ten minutes before 12 so I wasn't late for her). This is going to be an interesting relationship. I am a bit weedy when it comes to household help and they usually get the better of me but this time I am determined to hold my ground. I think this change of attitude has come about because she is SO bold.
My windows needed cleaning. She has three hours to clean my flat. I can do it in two actually. I asked her very nicely if she would clean the three dirtiest windows and not to worry about the bath as we haven't used it since her last visit (I told you about the colour of the water, it makes taking a bath pretty unappealing!). She gazed steadily at me and said, "No, I will clean two". I gazed steadily back and said (with my weedy heart gathering pace), "No, I want you to clean three'. To which she replied "No, two!" yet again! I realised that this was a 'make or break' moment, so I held my ground firmly and decided that if she was going to be this difficult she could walk. She acquiesced and cleaned three. I had to go out for the morning in case I had created an atmosphere!
So that is why I was surprised to see she had finished before 12 o'clock. I should have asked her to clean four windows! Now that would be too bold!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!
Birthdays are fun at the best of times and this one was no exception. When one is living abroad a birthday can be enough to make you a little homesick for the family you love but expats always find a sort of substitute family amongst themselves and rally to any occasion that demands giving someone a little extra attention and this was the case on my birthday!
Four of us enjoyed a lovely lunch in a Georgian restaurant. Really tasty food it has to be said. The Georgians have this special bread which is a bit like a pizza base covered in delicious dripping cheese. Not normally my thing but this was particularly good. There was a heavy use of fragrant herbs, particularly coriander. My trout was simply fried and filled with a wonderful stuffing of walnuts and garlic and spices. This restaurant is local to us and I am sure we will frequent it.
NEARLY MUGGED AGAIN!
Walking around Nevsky Prospect after lunch, three of us, chatting merrily and dawdling along, looking in shop windows, forgetting to be vigilant, I suddenly became uncomfortable with the three men who seemed to be trying to pass us on both sides but were taking too much time to pass. One moment there were just the three of us girls and the next there seemed to be six people. I could tell from the body language that it wasn't right. I stared straight at one of the guys and he made no eye contact, neither were they making a connection to each other. That was a give away to me. I quickly walked slightly ahead and said to the other two "come on QUICK! I am not happy with this". They realised immediately and responded. The guys knew we were onto them and still made no eye contact, pretending they hadn't noticed anything.
It's not a good idea to idly walk around this town and forget you are a foreigner in Russia or you will lose your purse!
THE OYSTER BAR
Because I had enjoyed lunch I decided that I would walk to the oyster bar that evening where I was meeting Mike for my birthday supper. I thought I could work off some calories before indulging again.
It took me a full hour walking really fast. When I arrived I was completely knackered! I did stop to take the lovely photo above though.
I am not going to mention every dinner in which I indulge but what was noteworthy at this restaurant was the girls...
HERE COME THE GIRLS!
As we sat enjoying our first glass of wine in walked three incredibly tarted up ladies. I tend to distinguish levels of 'class' by the height of the heels but I am probably totally wrong as I am going by my own culture, Russia is different! These girls were in incredibly high heels and definitely in the money. I don't know what their profession is but they sat down to enjoy a dozen oysters each, flown in from France and costing about £100 for half a dozen! Mike fancied they were prostitutes but they were just as likely to be the WAGS of the local mafia guys.
Several other groups of girls came to the restaurant that night all dressed in a similar fashion. We enjoyed the evening immensely, although I did feel rather drably dressed myself!
ON THE SUBJECT OF GIRLS
There are not enough men to go around in Russia and the girls do all they can to attract a man.
In discussions with my expat girlfriends we have commented on this problem as we all realise that foreign men are a very attractive proposition, especially middle-aged business men! We have all been in situations where you feel the eyes of a girl on you and your husband and they are thinking 'what is a man of such position doing with a woman as old as that!!!' It is the name of the game here and is quite dangerous for some unsuspecting couples.
It is important for every expat couple to have discussions about this and to make sure the husbands recognise the danger and not mistake it for an attractive option!
FOOD FOR THOUGHT
One of the less delightful aspects of living in a Russian apartment block is the all pervading stench of cabbage which one's neighbours seem to have constantly on the boil. At least I like to think it's cabbage. Mike thinks someone died in one of the apartments about a year ago and hasn't been discovered yet. I will keep you posted on that one.
On the subject of unpleasant things, I opened a tin of sardines for my lunch the other day. They are not like sardines I have tasted before and are extremely unpleasant. However, having opened them, I didn't really know what to do with them. I realise now, too late, that I should have chucked them down the loo however, at the time I thought the only way to get rid of them was to eat them. I soaked them in vinegar to try to disguise their flavour and put a tonne of salt and pepper on them. I ate them on top of crispbread without letting them touch the side of my mouth. Lesson, don't buy Russian tinned sardines.
THE BUSINESSMAN
I love the uniform of the 'businessman' in Russia. Italian suit and black tee-shirt, expensive watch, smart haircut, no smile and always a black, dark-windowed four-wheel drive. The amusing thing is they can't drive for toffees. At least, they can't park. I know this because I watch a lot of 'dark-windowed, four wheel drive activity' from my flat window (discretely of course) and they cannot park into a space! I assume this is because they can probably buy their driving license and don't take a driving test. I think you can buy most documents here.
ON THE SUBJECT OF BABIES AND WIND
Nicky continues to receive helpful advise in terms of caring for her baby. For example she should keep her in one country for at least the first three years so she can acclimatise. She should give her vitamin D and the nurse gave her something to stick up the baby's bottom for wind! (is that a cork Nicky?)
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