embassy and escorts

in honor of the conference and russian american workshop, there is a reception at the american embassy for workshop attendees. we are taking to this residence building, there is hor d'oeuvres and all sorts of alcohol being carried around. i find some older gentleman passing out a tray of booze and he immediately makes me his priority red wine recipient. steve leaves me adn tells to mingle--crap! but surprisingly i find myself talking to people, until i realize that i'm talking to older scientist gentleman and realize that i look about 18. right...i talk to a few people who;s research i'm actually interested. get cornered by some russian guy who also works with migrants, who brings me 2 (!) glasses of wine, breaks one of them, and insists that i have to go to siberia (why? because that's where migrants are. what kind? chinese...umm...no thanks). suddenly the buses back to teh hotel are leaving. it's only 9 so steve suggests we go out somewhere. sure. it's -2C outside in moscow, but it's not really because it's actually raining. we walk into the main tourist street and dont find anything interesting. suddenly steve remembers that last time he stayed at some hotel, the concierge told him about this bar designed by Phillip Starck, a famous french interior designer. we must go there. ok, but what's the name of it? steve doesn't know. where is it? steve doesn't know...but he think that if we walk into the nearest hotel we can ask tehir concierge. the idea sounds logical enough, but we can't find a hotel, so we walk into a restaurant (the most expensive one in russia) adn ask teh doorman to point us to the nearest hotel. he is eager to help and starts telling me which way to go but keeps saying things like, dont walk, it's raining so take a cab and really this hotel is expensive, tehy charge a lot for a night. ok but we're not staying the night. he understands, but still this is expensive. do you see what's happening here? young me, older looking steve, we're looking for a hotel..... we get nowhere so we get on the subway and steve finds a map from our hotel, so we call the other hotel adn figure out how to get there. it's a walk from the subway and we're slightly lost. did i mention it's raining? since i'm straight from the embassy reception i'm wearing heels and fancy pants adn i'm secretly cursing steve for his flair for adventure. we finally find this bar, i check out the bathroom and looking at the mirror realize that i'm soaking wet and look like a mess. the place is really nice, REALLY nice. the towels in teh bathroom are not paper but real. we order two mojitos which for sure are going to be ridiculously priced and the bartender puts it in front of us, winking at me...that's great. the place inside is actually really cool, gray and candlelit, with black grafittied saying ont eh wall. we have our drinks and leave, deciding to take a cab home. tehre is one outside so i ask teh driver how much he'll charge (because there are no meters in cabs). we get in adn i take 100 rubles out of my wallet (my last money) to give to steve to contribute to the cab ride and i catch the driver looking at me in the rearview mirror. he makes a sad face and says: "you still have to pay out of pocket for rides?" 'yeah?" he shakes his head. we're going to a hotel, clearly, this man, too, assumes i'm an escort. we get out of the car and i tell steve about this interaction. 'everyone in moscow thinks i'm a sex worker!!" 'i dont think you're a sex worker, alex." thanks steve :)

eecaac

that stands for eastern european and central asian AIDS conference. it is sponsored by nih and russian department for consumer goods and safety (our BBB, i think). there were something like 2700 people registered to come adn this is the third time they're holding the conference. it's amazing just how many people are here. they represent all sorts of organizations involved in fighting the epidemic--scientists, ngo's, governmental policy agencies, doctors, PLHIV networks--from youth working with youth to old and established doctors adn politicians. people are here from all over the world, not just the US and russia, not just the eastern european and central asian countries of CIS, but western europe adn africa. the conference opening had so many important speakers addressing the crowd. the ambassador of the US spoke great english adn russian, dr. jay levi, one of the scientists who isolated HIV in 83, the head of UNAIDS of eastern europe, minister of health of Russia. there are concurrent sessions and presentations going on, there is a youth village and a poster presentation room. there are pharmaceutical booths and meeting for UNAIDS and RUssian and AMerican government discussing policy and new agreements. it is overwhelming, i feel like i'm lost misplaced. i'm afraid people will ask me questions and realize that i sort of dont belong.
part of being a stipend recipient requires me to attend a young scientist workshop where american and russian researchers present their project. interesting, but it's all science, adn i am dying having to sit through diagrams of enzyme transcription and polymerase inhibition. everyone, of course, has a powerpoint, and american kids are actually decent in presenting their work--they are good public speakers. russian kids are not. they stumble, they mumble, their talks feel practiced and recited many times before their adult mentors. it's boring :(. but the worst was this one kid who presented a new computer program that allows you to program a plasmid dna so that you can sequence it however you want and incorporate your RNA of interest wherever you'd like. it was terrible, he read off his slides, he misread off his slides. he paused, he paused so more. i wanted to leave, really. it was so bad, the head moderator--former minister of health of the US, established scientist from uflorida, an older disitnguished gentleman in a bow tie--fell asleep, on the podium, in front of everyone. yep.
i've noticed russians have no cell phone etiquette. everyone, of course, owns a cell phone, but people fail to turn them on vibrate. so during so super important UNAIDS address or an interesting epidemiology presentations, cell phones are going off adn you see these russian dudes in suits and overweight ladies in high heels answering them and frantically running out of the room. that's rude. what's ruder is that they let them ring. the phone starts ringing instead of canceling the call right away so that it doesn't make noise, the owner will sit there for 3 minutes trying to figure out if it's his phone, then search through pockets looking for it, then stare at the screen for another 3 minutes figuring out who the caller is...just answer it!! someone is actually speaking right now!!
the hotel is great (have i mentioned that already?) it's not russian, which is what i feared and my sheets are actually clean. the lobby is spacious and full of 24 hours cafes and bars and in order to access the elevator you need your room key. couldn't figure out why, until steve tells me how he was approached by a sex worker in house one night. this red headed lady came up to him adn asked if he wanted to spend some time with her. he declined but told her tehre is someone who wants to interview her (that would be me). it's obvious that she is paying someone at the door to have access to guests adn the next day we were looking for her because i wanted steve to show her to me. at some point a red-headed lady gets into the elevator. i'm excited i'm convinced it's her. it's early morning so it's possible she is leaving the room of someone....that is until she gets off the elevator with me adn addresses some guy in british english asking him about today's presentations--i just confused a british scientist with a sex worker :(

more of work

so because we're at the conference earlier than the conference starts, we're trying to do some work. we interview 3 more sex workers. two in a bazaar, supplied by friendly neighborhood sex worker extraordinaire (the one who wanted to take me out dancing). we're sitting in a clothes market--this giant 2 story structure full of little booths, or partitioned holes, really, that are selling everything from fur (fake i'm sure) coats to bras to toddler clothing. it's nuts here. upstairs the cafe is busy as well. and the interviews happen amid a loudness that carries, hopefully not into my recorder. after the interviews, we sit down with the original sex worker and steve talks to her some more about organizational structure of sex work in moscow. she takes shots of vodka out of plastic cups as the conversation goes on. in between questions, she turns to me to tell me she likes my eyes. then, she tells she's been hired by women before (this is the part of conversation i'm not translating for steve). then, she tells that if i were to hire her, she'd agree...and tehn wouldn't charge me at all. i am feeling very awkward.
we end up going out to dinner, to an australian restaurant, yes, in the middle of moscow. like every other place in this city, it too serves sushi--the national russian dish. because i sort of dot want to eat 'australian' salad adn cannot find anything that does not contain teh word australian beef in it, i settle for some sushi. bad choice. as steve pointed out once we left the restaurant it has a taste of actual real australian sushi, as if it was shipped from australia, some days ago.