Everyday, Homespun, Grade A Adventure

I don't much take to travel guides. Maybe because they're boring. Maybe because they're overwhelming. Maybe because I don't follow directions well. OR maybe because adventures are so much more fun when you make them up as you go, and discoveries are so much more satisfying when they actually feel like your own. I recently had one such adventure. I "discovered" the love lock bridge. This is based off an international tradition which I had never heard of until traveling to Ireland a year ago. Now I see it everywhere. Apparently, as tradition has it, couples put a padlock on a bridge and then throw the key into the water to symbolize the lasting nature of their relationship. Lock your love and throw away the key? I'm skeptical. But I guess it adds character to the bridge. Strangely enough, however, there was a truck on this pedestrian bridge. This particular bridge has metal trees all down the middle of the path, each of which is covered with locks. Unfortunately for the love-birds of these trees, the love luck had maxed out and the trees were being lifted and carried off by this truck. I'm not sure how that works into the symbolism, but it can't bode well. On came the fresh, new trees ready for fresh, new love birds. I took some pictures and then moved on with my adventure as fountains shot up in the river.

Across the street was a park so I decided to check it out. I'm sure it's just as famous as the bridge, and, were I to crack I travel guide to Moscow, I would have known all about it and sought it out, but there's something so much better about not knowing. There was a huge statue and lots of flowers, which, I guess, is a good thing and makes it a pretty park, but I didn't really know what to do with them so I just proceeded on. There was a huge sculpture at the end of the flower beds. If I were more mischievous I might have crossed the rope with signs saying not to get any closer. It was a fascinating sculpture, however, embodying 15 vices of adults that to which children (who we claim to be the future) are the victims. It was rather profound, as I suppose art is meant to be.  After I read the sign about it and took a few pictures, I surveyed the scene for my next move.

There were several playsets... But I resisted the temptation to be the creepy adult playing alone on the slides and whatnot. Plus I had no one to watch my purse. Instead, I eyed the many benches lining the pathway. I picked one, popped a squat, and pulled out my book. Yep. That did it. I sat in the springy sunshine with a great view and filled my mind with Harry Potter in German. That's how much of a nerd I am. After a while I went back. I passed through several newlyweds taking pictures on the bridge.

Oh and then there was the garbage can on fire. Yep. Another run-of-the-mill, everyday, homespun, grade A adventure.

I'm not sayin'; I'm just sayin'.

The Right to Bear Arms... In Russia

Gosh I love public transportation. It keeps my life from getting boring.

I was wrestling the crowd into the metro when a man standing by a pillar caught my attention. I did a double take at what he had in his hand. 'Twas a sword. I kid you not. It was sheathed, mind you, but a sword nonetheless. Being the length of his leg (and he wasn't exactly a short man), he had the tip on the floor as if it were a cane. No one else seemed the least bit fazed. Um. Hello? There is a man standing nonchalantly in our midst with a sword. Not even concealed. Not that he could have concealed it even if he wanted to due to the size. I can only imagine what would happen to someone in the US standing in a subway station with such a trinket. Oh my. Does that fall under the right to bear arms? I have no idea.

I'm not sayin'; I'm just sayin'.

No Escape

I know. Don't die of shock from the rapidity of my recent postings.

One of my absolute favorite thing about cities is the street performers, particularly musicians. They add so much color and life to the many-faceted, everyday goings on. You step off the underground and as you wind through the tunnels your ears are greeted by an electric guitar, or maybe a violin. Sometimes it doesn't matter if they're good or bad. They can make you think or feel, help you come to a realization, or just put a smile on your face. Sometimes they catch you when you're on the train. You can't leave. You can't get away from the collection bag that they're going to strut less than a foot away from your hands folded stubbornly in your lap. And I won't get into the legal reasons that they do it this way. One day I was sitting on the metro and a woman entered with an accordion. I don't think I'd really even noticed her there until the train started to move and the sound greeted my ears, forcing the cognitive dissonance of wanting to look, but knowing that if you look up you are slightly more obligated to drop in a few rubles (which is great, but simply impossible to do for every street performer). I don't know much about accordion technique, but I will say it sounded good to me. I was a rather tragic piece and, together with her all-black attire and the droning winter outside, it was rather picturesque. A perfect soundtrack. Then, today, I think I had recommenced reading my book when two hipster-ish guys came on and perched themselves next to me. One had an electric guitar, with the amp hanging off him somehow. And the other had none other than a flute. And he worked that flute. They played a catchy little number and I couldn't help but be impressed. By the music itself, but also the pluck of the Russian flautist.

I'm not sayin', I'm just sayin'.

Thawing

Personally, I've always been more of an autumn person. But I must say that Russia really has me warming up to the Spring (bah. No pun intended... or was it...?). It's not like I've never endured long, cold winters before. In fact I've endured longer and colder than this. But there's something amazing about how quickly the entire city thaws. And I mean ENTIRE city. The skies turn from grey to blue, the record snowfall disappears almost instantly, and the people, once shedding their furs, suddenly become more human. Or, shall we say, the shell hiding the surprise inside becomes a little thinner--more transparent. People's facial expressions change and vary in public and they look at each other and have animated conversations. Today I witnessed a chorus of laughter on the metro. Yes. Laughter. And I'm pretty sure it was relatively sober laughter. And people of all ages have started wearing all sorts of colors. I won't go into the hot pink velour track suit WITH bunny ears hanging off the hood.
The other day I got on a trolley and almost fell on a boy of about 12 as we lurched to begin. I managed to hold the bar, but he gave me a glare. Then I heard "Skyfall" playing. After it went on too long to be a ringtone I started rummaging through my purse, thinking that my ipod had started itself as it sometimes done. I found it, and it was off. Then I remembered I don't have "Skyfall" on my ipod. After a few moments of confusion I realized that this boy had it playing from his pocket. Unabashedly. Once it was over some sort of hiphoppy music that I can't tell you the name of but involves strange whistle sounds and reminded me of "Fresh Prince of Bel-Air" came on. The boy's stop came soon enough and he swaggered off with his tunes proudly playing. I sat down and another boy maybe a little younger came on and walked to the back. He was, I kid you not, playing with a yo-yo. And not just up and down but actually doing tricksy stuff. He seemed to think he was pretty cool. I felt like I was back in the 90s. Sometimes I can't help but just laugh to myself and think "Yes. You really DID just witness that. People."

I'm not sayin'. I'm just sayin'.

Russians: A Surprise Inside Every One...