to: home

this is probably going to be the last of it for a while. 4 cities, 5 airports in less than 48 hours. i spent the last morning in moscow wondering around. it was cold, and it being like 9am on a saturday quite quiet. did you know that moscow airports do not post boarding time on their boarding passes? well, rather, boarding stops 20 min before the plane takes off. so the time boarding stops is posted on the boarding pass, just not when it begins. just imagine the confusion, of standing in front of the gate, waiting...? apparently, boarding times are announced over the intercom, the entire airport is just a slew of announcements, calling this and that flight, changes to gates, drunken lost passengers, requested, called, strongly advised to go to their gate. the sandwich lady on the plane, after giving up on feeding me salami sandwiches, tries to flag down the flight attending to get me a blanket because she thinks i'm cold. then, she tries to 'order' my drink for me, then, after we land, she tries to give away my jacket stowed above my seat to the little girl in the seat in front--she thought it was a children's jacket. the next day, my cousin and i go city walking. first, we are stopped by the cops to give a deposition. apparently, they were called to the scene of a burning vehicle. when the cops arrived, the vehicle did not appear to be burning, or on fire, or have been burning. so we are flagged on the street to provide a statement that the police did in fact respond to the call, and that the vehicle did not appear to be engulfed in flames or in any way damaged. annoying as it is, made better by three policemen clearly flirting as they're writing the deposition. we retrace anthony's steps, accidentally, but decide to stop by Bessarabka, the central (and most expensive) farmer's market in the center, we are committed. there, we are accosted by salespeople, and Caucasian (that's, again, from the mountains, not just white) men offering fresh fruit. when we do not respond to their sweet talk, they switch to ukrainian, as if we didnt understand the first time. hot dog in a fried bun (kinda like a oversized, over-doughed corn dog) for my cousin and we are off to crafts street. the cabby that took us home was smoking in the car when we got in. the car reeked like cheap cigarettes. and after airing out the smoke, all windows down in the middle of winter, i sort of regretted doing that, for as the smoke cleared, what was left was the terrifying cabby BO smell. i swear, the smoke was better. do you know how much 61 surveys weigh? 3 kilos, exactly how much i was over the limit when i got to the airport the next morning. shit, a moment of panic and i am now stuck logging extra weight in my carry on. i look homeless. we end up waiting in the boarding bus for like 15 min, and it turns out they literally drove us 20 feet. so could have walked. during this time some dude decides to start a conversation. where am i going, what am i going to do there? oh you're going home?? to the states? i've never talked to anyone from the states! well, this is your lucky day, buddy. then, he wants us to 'communicate', on facebook, contacts, my space. i'm not even listening to the slew of sites he's listing. thank god, he's sitting nowhere near me. short layover in zurich, where, with my super short connection, i almost kill some british dude, who decides to take the time to drink his water while passing through the xray conveyor belt, take his time to, one by one, empty his pockets of cell phone, cigarettes, passport, no wait, i can keep that. i almost jumped the line, had it not been for the fact that his stuff was already in the boxes, and the lady border patrol was so politely swiss, i would have felt embarrassed. and the best thing to do on the transatlantic flight, when you're not sleepy? catch up on movies. the lady next to me, i'm pretty sure judges me after my second wine. but that's ok, i judge her for praying before eating her airplane food, which, by the way is pretty good, and so so plentiful. the swiss are trying to make me fat. finally, home, super long line to passport control, and i'm eavesdropping on conversations, excited to finally hear english. it appears my quadruple security alert went away because i am let through without much trouble (i correctly answer where i work. are you bringing any food, alcohol, or tobacco? no (except for the ocntraband of vodka in my luggage). my mom volunteered to pick me up, but forgot where she parked. or actually, she remembers where she parked, she just doesnt remember how to get to the car. so literally, for like 15 minutes we walk around in a circle, me with giant carry on and giant suitcase, looking for a way to get to the parking lot. seriously, mother?! finally, home. i am unpacked, refrigerator cleaned, grocery shopping done. and off to bed, my bed. i guess it's back to reality.