On the Table

We need a kitchen table. My large round granite tile kitchen table is in storage in Phoenix. It simply wouldn't fit in my Moscow galley-shaped kitchen.

As part of our temporary furniture rental, we'd rented a table and chairs. We had no selection, but the glass and chrome rectangular set they delivered fit suprisingly well in terms of style and size. The rental company was willing to sell it to us. The only problem is neither of us liked it!

I have always favored neutal traditional furniture, punctuated with foreign, often tribal, elements we've bought on our travels. (It sounds weird, but it works.) However, our new apartment cries for modern, sleek minimalist decour. We had thought about just letting it cry, but the rental table showed us we had to accomodate the modern style.

The Settling-In service had recommended Grand Furniture, the largest furniture store in town. We looked at several maps to figure out how to get there. It is past the MKAD, which is a large circular highway surrounding Moscow, and not accessible by Metro.

Larry unburied our car from the snow, scraped the ice off and we ventured off. About 30 minutes of travel time later, we hit pay dirt, finding the huge store complex from the highway. Figuring out where to exit and how to get over there was another story. (This is actually the typical story of driving in Moscow.)

We managed to get to the parking lot and hiked into the entrance. In Moscow, you measure your shopping success in steps:

1. Finding someplace that may have what you want.
2. Coming up with a plan to get there.
3. Actually arriving at the place.
4. Finding what you want at the price you want.
5. Negotiating and paying for what you want.
6. Arranging to get your purchase home.

In Phoenix, shopping success was only tied to accomplishing Step 4 as the rest are a given.

Grand Furniture is aptly named. We entered a store that was twice as large as the largest Wal-Mart. The furniture was organized by manufacturer, so we had to go through everything to look at all the dining sets. After two hours, we found only one set that suited our needs, a very expensive import, and were about to give up.

It was then we saw the passageway to another section. At the end of it, was MORE furniture (another double Wal-Mart size). I wish we'd seen this section first as it had hundreds of reasonably priced tables all grouped together. After about 30 minutes we selected the least offensive glass and chrome table we could find in the right size. (It was less chrome, more glass.)

It took us another hour to select chairs, with Larry dragging various hopefuls over for us to test drive with the selected table. Eventually we settled on some more expensive cordovan leather ones with chrome arms and legs that reminded me of a rounded director's chair. The sales girl had been patiently watching us off to the side for the last hour so she knew what we wanted.

She took us and the price tags of the table and chairs over to a cashier. They questioned us in rapid-Russian. I thought I heard the word for "discount card" but not much else. Sighing, they called in reinforcements, someone who spoke some English. She asked if we had a Grand Furniture discount card. (Hey, I got that right!)

We admitted we didn't. She suggested we first buy "something" to get the card. I just said, "Okay." (Here I often, just go along hoep to figure out what's going on as things progress.) The cashier then produced a bill for two of the four chairs and we were led upstairs to another cashier who took my credit card. She stamped the bill several times to make it official. (I may have to buy a stamp so I can feel a part of life here!) Then she handed me back the stamped receipt with my new Grand Furniture Discount card.

I was now entitled to 3% off the rest of my purchases. We walked back downstairs to the first cashier, who printed up three more bills, one each for the chairs and one for the table. We went back upstairs and paid for those. Then we were taken over to another counter to stumble through my Russian address to arrange for delivery.

Delivery was free, but assembly cost an extra 5%. We decided Larry could probably screw the base and the pedestal legs on the table himself following the pictures on what was sure to be assembly instructions in Russian.

It took six hours total, but we had completed all six steps in one day. The chrome and glass set will be here Tuesday, feeling completely at home in the apartment. It's my 18th Century mahoganny dining set that's going to feel like a stranger in a strange land.

Measure Your Day in Rubles

My Saturday in Rubles:

$2000 Rubles (US$60) to pay my cellphone bill in advance at the little phone store near my apartment. (My provider had cut off outgoing calls as I had used up my previous balance when I set it up.)

$1000 R. (US$30) to pay up Tay's cellphone. I did this as I was already there and had made myself understood about wanting to pay.

$250 E.U. (US$300) for Taylor's appointment with the French orthodonist at the European Dental Center. The good news is he only has six more months in braces. The bad news is they want a total of $2,800 US for this and the follow up! I made a mental note to call our dental insurance provider Monday night to see how much of this they'd be picking up.

$5200 R. (US$175) for Taylor and Larry to join a tennis league that plays doubles every other Thursday night from 9 to 11 p.m. This averages $5 an hour per person. As indoor tennis courts rent for $50 an hour, this is a great bargain. They start this Thursday.

$2100 R. for lunch plus $200 R. tip (US$70 and US$7) at an "English pub." This covered the 2 appetizers, 2 entrees, 2 beers, 2 soft drinks and three waters consumed by Larry, Taylor and me.

$1050 R. (US$35) for a two-pack of boxers for Larry at Stockmans, an expat department store.

$650 R. (US$21) for two pairs of warm gloves for Nancy and a scarf for Taylor. We decided to stock up on some 60% off stuff at Stockman.

$3000 R. (US$100) for groceries at Stockman's. I splurged on a small sack of sugar which was US$8. Taylor had asked me to make Snickerdoodles and I didn't want to use the local giant size crystal sugar which just sits in the cookies like boulders. We also bought cheddar cheese which was $10 for a pound. We bought a kilo (2.2 pounds) of ground pork for US$20, a very small bottle of Worstershire Sauce for US$6, and some lovely freshly baked crescents for US$1 each. We didn't have to pay for parking as dragged everything home on the Metro.

$100 R. ($3) for the DVD we watched that night of "Runaway Jury." We actually got it free as a hand-me-down from someone leaving Moscow.

Baby, It's Cold Outside

Yesterday, I took the elevator down ten flights of stairs and slogged 15 minutes through the snow to go to the gym to use the Stairmaster and walk on the treadmill. Diane, who is also a gym member, suggested we have her DRIVER pick us up and drive us over to exercise.

In our defense, the temperature is below zero outside. With the windchill factor on the river, it feels far colder. This is the typical Moscow winter we were warned about. It's so cold that in the 10 minutes it took Diane to walk home from the grocery, her lettuce froze.

It seems to snow all the time. These are big, fluffy flakes that look so beautiful from my apartment window and seem to blow directly down your throat and into your eyes when you are outside. With the treacherously icy sidewalks, there's no rushing through it.

Up to now, it's been uncharacteristically warm here. Locals described it as "April weather." It's definitely January in Moscow now.

Museum Musings

To get out of the apartment, I signed up for a Patriasky Dom tour of the Tetyakov Art Museum. It was cold and icy out and despite the aid of my compass, I still had to wander around awhile in the sub-zero temperatures before I found the museum.

I ended up being the only person on the tour. (Apparently no one else was willing to dare the rigors of the weather to see this museum today.) As a pre-revolutionary builidng, this is place is fabulous. As an art gallery, it could use a makeover. Many of the rooms had huge skylights but there was way too much glare. I was continually shuffling around the room trying to get an angle so I could see. The modern-looking bathrooms had obviously been recently redone. Unfortunately, they left out two things in the stalls--toilet seats and toilet paper dispensers.

The musuem was founded by a rich merchant in the early 1900s and is housed in his home. A former peasant, he really had a taste for "social criticism" in his choice of contemporary art and there were quite a few that really poked fun at the church and the aristocracy, the two big powers of his day.

But he was also an avid collector of 17th and 18th century Russian art and most of the tour was spent in those rooms. The guide was a little too fond of the large scale religious epic pictures from the 18th century for my taste. I wanted more time to look at their Russian icon collections, having sat throught the 90 minutes lecture on that topic Monday.

This is a huge museum, probably better covered in two sessions. As it stood, the guide expanded the usual two-hour tour to three hours. I thought that was a pretty good deal for my $14 fee. Afterwards, she walked me back to the Metro so I wouldn't get lost in the snow again.

Having A Ball

I gave my Understanding Russia class another shot. Luckily the lecture on Russian icons was very interesting and ended after about 90 minutes, about my limit for sitting on someone's sofa with no breaks.

This week's hostess lived in an apartment which had been the home of the czar's second cousins. It was beautiful, with lovely stone mantles, crystal chandeliers, sculptured molded ceilings and inlaid wooden floors. It also has a ballroom. Like everyone here with a grandiose apartment she said, "Oh, we need it for entertaining for my husband's business." I bit my tongue to keep from saying, "Oh, and how many company balls are you holding this year?"

Actually, this woman has four children under age 10. I'm sure the empty ballroom makes a great playspace for them. They certainly couldn't hang out in the kitchen, which was so small I initially mistook it for a butler's pantry.

I had already gotten into trouble being critical with this group. I had previously complained, when asked, about the prior lecture's 2.5 hour length. The coordinator later remarked to me that the class was called "Understanding Russia," not "Entertaining Americans."

Back on the homefront, I had Russian lessons today and asked my teacher to look at my Internet balance statement which was in Russian. I had been told I could pay for the service at the bank in my building. I wanted to see if I could use that form. Of course, it was the wrong form. He phoned the Internet company which walked him through the four step process of finding the correct form on my computer. (Their Website is only in Russian.) I printed it out and he helped me fill it in.

I had to supply the owner's name, our address and the amount I want to pay, all in Cyrillic. I had to write all this information twice as the form must be completed in duplicate. Then I had to get my scissors and cut out the form so it was the correct size. He was explaining which line at the bank I would be forced to wait in when Lena, my housekeeper, volunteered to take it in for me. I kept notes on the process as I have to do this every month.

Cheap Skates

They watered down the tennis courts at Taylor's school, creating an ice rink. He and his friends played ice hockey there last week. As he did't have any skates, Taylor had to glide along in his tennis shoes. Obviously, the poor kid needed some skates. I just needed to figure out how to get him some.

Ruth, who is a former competitive skater, gave me directions to a "Sport Galleria" that had good quality, cheap skates. Taylor and I set off for the Metro on Sunday, changing trains (and stations) and rode another 20 minutes to a large park in North Moscow. We first missed the entrance to the market. It was down a ramp in the basement. After calling Ruth again for clarification, we went back and through the old, corregated single door.

Inside, we were accosted by the smell of axel grease. The single wide aisle had little booths of either side. Many "stores" had used gears and chains. A couple were selling shiny new cross country bicycles and Mopeds. Alec would love this place.

We found a booth with a good selection of ice skates (10 pairs). Taylor selected a pair of men's Chech ice hockey skates. He had to try on several pairs as I had no clue what size he wore. (Shoe sizes differ all over the world.) We settled on size 43. After paying for the skates ($80 cash), the sales person walked us over to another booth where for $3, we got the skates sharpened. All the transacations were completed using my pidgeon Russian and their pidgeon English.

I was interested in exploring the park, but Taylor was on a mission to find a hockey stick. (For some reason, "Sport Galleria" only had left-handed ones.) We took the Metro back to the city center to Sportiva, a high-end sports store. There I spent $30 for a right-handed stick, on sale. To buy something at Sportiva, you must first find a salesperson and show them what you want. Often, the only items in the store are the displays, so he then has to call the storage rooms. You must wait while they bring up whatever it is you are buying, which is usually still in the plastic bag. The salesperson then marks something on the price tag and walks the item to the cashier.

Sportiva accepts credit cards, but you must also show them your passport. This isn't a problem as you are required to carry your passport everywhere. The police have the right to stop you at any time to inspect it.

Carrying Tay's new stick home in the Metro, I was reasonably sure no one would dare to mess with us, even the police.

My Cups Runneth Over

Larry left for Madrid yesterday for a week of meetings.

Meanwhile, Tay and I were invited to dinner last night at Sue's house. I brought over a basket with a bottle of wine and a container of Snickerdoodle cookies I'd made earlier.

I'd made the cookies using ingredients I'd brought from the U.S. plus some Finnish flour I'd bought here. (Russian flour has no gluten.) I did use local sugar, which has very big grains and didn't blend as well. Overall, the Snickerdoodles turned out rather nicely. The convection oven does a wonderful job with cookies.

I didn't know what to expect about the evening but dressed in my ususal dressy, casual attire (wool slacks, cashmere sweater and good jewelry). As you are expected to take off your shoes upon arrival, I also brought my slippers!

Sue's daughter, Whitney, a good friend of Taylor's, met us at McDonalds on Old Arabat to walk us over to their apartment. We had a about a 10 minute walk off a side street to their beautiful pre-revolutionary building.

Four other guests came in a few minutes later, a younger couple and two women. Something was "off" to me about the two women. I realized that they didn't look like wives. It turns out, they weren't. Both worked with Sue's husband. How did I know that before they even opened their mouths? They dressed a little edgier. Wives here dress softer--almost borderline boring. (Think Laura Bush.)

As usual, the group had an international flavor. Sue and her husband are Americans, who've also lived in Great Britain. The husband of the other couple was Canadian. His wife was South African. One of the women was a Swede who grew up in Britian and the other was an American, spending about six months a year here as a consultant.

After some hors derves and drinks, the seven of us were invited to find our places at their beautifully-set round walnut dining table. (The teenagers ate in the kitchen.) I was comfortable with the three forks, large spoon and three knives at my placesetting, but I was curious as how I would be using the FIVE crystal glasses in front of me. One glass had water with a lemon slice. I also could identified the red and white wine glasses and the cordial glass.

Sue served a pear salad with Stilton cheese and a poppy seed dressing which we ate with white wine. Next we had our choice of salmon or beef with scalloped potatoes, green beans, roasted potatoes and fennel. She served a choice of rolls and the butter was in individual little dishes. We ate that course with red wine.

The lively discussion topics included shopping in Russian markets, the idiosyncracies of Russian burocracy, the origins of root words, fur as a power statement in business, the strangest foods we've been served and our children. We started the evening with lost luggage stories (along with "worst flight" stories, this is almost a competition in this kind of crowd).

For dessert, we had a chocolate torte with orange sauce. After dessert, she passed around a lovely selection of cheeses, which she offered with port, clearing up for me the mystery of the fifth glass. Not being a port fan, I declined.

After that was cleared, she served our choice of coffee or tea with either white or dark (not brown) sugar. She also passed around a plate of chocolates and my Snickerdoodles. Everyone ate a Snickerdoodle. My cookies resulted in way too much acclaim next to the lovely dinner.

Everyone left about 15 minutes later as it was already 12:30 a.m. We had a half hour trek home which felt good. There were a lot of drunks out and I would have felt a little uneasy walking back alone so I was glad Taylor was with me.

I came home to my dishwasher which flooded the kitchen. Until I can call our realtor, who will call the owner, who will call some repair guy with body odor issues to come spend four hours here, I am back to doing dishes by hand again. So instead of five glasses per placesetting, I'm thinking plastic cups.

It's Good to be the Ambassador

Today, I went to the International Women's club meeting at the Australian Ambassador's residence.

The house was more fun than the meeting. It is: "prolific Moscow architect Feodor Shekhtel's (1859-1918) greatest work. Every detail was specifically conceived for the house, from the stylized door knobs and ventilation grilles to the fabric and furniture. It is, however, the striking Art Nouveau fireplace in the grand hall which commmands the most attention. Presiding over a lofty room measuing 11.2 meters in height and 130 sq. meters in area, it is reportedly the largest fireplace in Moscow. The equisitely carved wooden mantelpice, rises over three meters from the floor...The Papua-New Guiena sculptural works that so perfectly, if unexpectedly complement the formal staircase, hail from the ambassador's personal collection."

While the public rooms were huge, it had a very Arts and Crafts style that made it seem warmer. The ambassador talked about going on a Patriasky Dom tour after he first arrived in Moscow. When the last stop on the schedule was barred, the tour guide took the group outside his house, where she poetically described the home in great detail and told them regretfully the building was inaccessible to the public. When the ambassador suggested he could try to get them in, she just ignored him. Undeterred, he ordered the guards to open the gates and the dumbfounded but delighted group got to go inside. (It's good to be the ambassador!)

I came home to find the cable company blocked out our TV signal with a message to pay them. I had been working on this but, like everything here, it is harder than it sounds. They don't send you a bill and you are suppose to pay in advance. With Olga, of the Settling In service, I had previously filled out the cable TV form for automatic credit card payments. I got stuck after I was unable to fax them the requested front and back copies of Larry's credit card as you have to call them first before faxing.

Luckily, I had electronic copies so I emailed them the credit card copies. Olga called back to tell me they also needed the "particulars" of Larry's passport and our cable account number. I had to look up the passport information on a database Larry keeps on my Palm Pilot and I sent them an email with that information. Next, I had to go through my mountain of Russian paperwork dealing with our household stuff to try to figure out which ones concerned the cable TV. After translating enough to understand I had the cable TV form, I picked up the likely account number and emailed that to them too.

Even if I have sent them everything they need, an unlikely prospect, I still have to wait for them set up automatically billing, charge my credit card and unblock the signal. So we're back to no TV.

Swahili Finals

I helped Taylor study for his Russian final last night, which is sort of like me helping him with his Swahili final. It really is the blind leading the blind. Lena, the maid, was so appalled by us, she couldn't help but jump in to correct our pronunciation as she cooked dinner.

Lena made us mashed potatoes, salad, chicken and soup. It was all good, except for the blinis she left for dessert. Those were very good. She left earlier today, at 6 p.m. Including her shopping time, she worked for 9 straight hours, for which I am paying her $32.

Moscow is such a small world, I actually met one of the other women Lena works for yesterday afternoon. She was at the Gourmet Cooking Group luncheon. This turned out to be really more of a potluck. The food was good but not gourmet. I brought Mile High Biscuits, one woman did "Shake and Bake" chicken and someone else bought apple crisp. Food wasn't discussed at all. Nevertheless, having a leisurely lunch with wine in someone's fabulous pre-revolutionary apartment was very enjoyable.

Our hostess lives in the "Moscow House" a famous building on the Ring Road. Her apartment was huge by Moscow standards, about 2400 square feet and I bet her rent runs at least $10k per month.

Two of the eight women there had children getting married. Both of them were marrying into families of different family nationalities. Susan's middle daughter is marrying a second-generation American of Indian descent. They are having a completely traditional Indian wedding which is being completely paid for by the groom's family. Susan was instructed to wear rose, cover her head and keep her feet bare. The bride will be painted in henna, which her family will inspect three days after the wedding to see how hard the groom's family has worked her.

Iris, a very stylish woman, just found out her adult old son is marrying his Greek girlfriend in her native country. While we commented on what a great party that will be, she was a little concerned about the problems of accomodating the bride's Greek Orthodox wedding requirements with her family's Roman Catholic ones.

It occurred to me that if you provide your children with all these fabulous cross-cultural experiences, you shouldn't be surprised if they choose to marry someone completely foreign to your background.

Monday, I went to my Understanding Russia class. This is an American Women's Organization group that holds lectures every Monday. The speaker does detailed research into interesting topics, but her delivery is so mundane, my attention kept difting. I found myself wondering what the hostess paid for her apartment or if I could see Christ the Savior Cathedral out the window.

This week's topic was the history of religion in Moscow. At the end of the speaker's prepared remarks, she brought in an 85-year-old woman who reminisced about what it was like living in Moscow when the Nazi invasion was immanent. (The city officials left town. As there are no athiests in foxholes, Stalin reopened the churches!)

She went on to talk about the religious persecution under Krushchev. Unfortunately, at that point, I'd been sitting on the uncomfortable sofa for well over two hours without a break. I just wanted to go home and do laundry!

Fat Ears

Saturday night, Larry and I went out to dinner with Diane and Eric. They met here first for wine and spinach/artichoke dip. Then we walked to the French restaurant, Riviere, in their building, about five minutes away.

Diane had made a reservation for 8 p.m. and we were the only ones in the place. It had a very formal decour. I kept expecting John Beluchi to pop up and say, "The weemen...How much for your weemen?"

An excellent harpist played a variety of songs including "Turkey in the Straw" and a bird in a cage at the bar often sang along. Perusing the wine list, Larry ordered a South African wine.

The restaurant started us off with a complimentary appetizer of some kind of raw meat. (Fine dining is not for the unadventuresome.) They served each of us maybe a teaspoon's worth on a plate with a cut up piece of cucumber so it wouldn't look so lonely. I had ordered Parma, pear and goat cheese "salad." There was only a token piece of green on the plate but it was very good. Larry had baked oysters with black caviar. Afterwards, they brought us each a berry sorbet. (Not as good as Mossaic's, but that's saying a lot.)

I ordered turbot with shrimp sauce for dinner. This was almost as much as a mistake as Larry's venison, which he later described as "Bambi's granddad." Eric and Diane had the lamb, which they both raved over.

For dessert, Eric had New York cheesecake, which was a 3-inch diameter round. Of course, I couldn't resist the creme brulee. It arrived in a very shallow six inch round bowl. I noted the nicely carmelized (not burnt) sugar. While the taste was good, I thought the consistency was too runny. Diane and Eric had port, Larry had cappucino and I had decaf. coffee. I also had ingestion later as I am not use to eating and drinking so much rich food.

The next day it was time to seriously consider my exercise program. I had been putting off joining the gym here because it is so expensive. This really tried Taylor's patience. "Do you realize, I could have diamond stud earrings for what this place is going to cost us a year?" I asked Taylor.

He replied, "Would you rather have fat diamonds in your fat ears or no diamonds in thin ears?" So I opted for the no diamond/thin ears and we joined the Radisson gym, a 15 minute walk from home. It has exercise equipment and free weights, locker rooms, saunas, steamrooms, a juice bar and an aerobics room. Our hefty membership fee does include all classes which include water aerorbics, pilates, yoga, Tai-Chi, Tai-Bo, Step, Latina Jazz and Irish dance. These are taught by people named Irina, Marina, Lena, Elena and Litlia.

The gym was not crowded, although there were a lot of hefty ladies there to attend water aerobics. Unfortunately, I had to see many of them nude in the locker room. Maybe it's because I'm from Scottsdale, but I have never seen so many overweight people in a gym. I'm always the "fat" one.

Tay and I worked out and then I tried out the Turkish sauna. It was like sitting in a toaster oven. It was too hot to breath through my nose. I was literally afraid my extremities would start burning! Something was wrong, either with me or the sauna, so I vacated it. The ladies' steam room was next door and that felt great.

So in one week I've moved from blogging about laundry dilmenas to writing about fine dining and health clubs. It's a strange world in which I live.

High and Dry

After six weeks, I finally got a clothes dryer delivered. I paid $625 (in cash) for my mini-dryer and $3 to have them bring it up the elevators. Then the installation guy arrived. He insisted on being paid $30 to install the dryer. This is a non-ventilated dryer. Instillation consists of plugging it in. It's like having someone charging you $30 to install your toaster!

I sounded like one of those emotional Russians as I unloaded six weeks of frustration on this bandit. The Settling In translator, Olga, finally negotiated a price of $6 to make him go away. Olga had set up the sale and hadn't balked at the installation charge as her first priority was to get the dryer delievered.

The dryer, which can be mounted on the wall, extracts water from the clothes. The water is collected in a plastic container that should be emptied after every load.
The instructions, in eight different languages, are written for someone who has never before used any mechanical dryer and cautions that the lint collected does not mean your clothes are falling apart.

Moping

I've been feeling very overwhelmed. I have so much to do and everything here is so hard. I realized I was going through the motions of cleaning and cooking but most of my energy was devoted to moping! If this continued, I'd be laying on the sofa watching Russian language TV all day and give up washing my hair!

My new maid arrived this morning and got to work cleaning my apartment with a minimum of supervision. That freed me to finally get my curtains ironed and hung. At last I could take the aluminum foil in the bedroom windows down. I invited a friend over for tea and met her that afternoon at the Metro station to walk her over to my apartment. It was the first time I'd been outside in three days.

Ruth is in Moscow on a student budget. As my maid bustled around my beautiful kitchen, cooking dinner, Ruth described her continuing problem with roaches. (The drain pipes in her apartment have no lint trap, so bugs and gasses come right in.) What did I have to mope about?

Maid in Moscow

My new maid starts today. During the interview, I told her, through a translator, that I wanted her to clean, change the sheets, do the laundry, iron, shop and cook. I omitted taking the trash to the dumpster and dealing with deliveries, only because I forgot. This will leave me free to pursue my quest for the elusive clothes dryer and my new charge of finding a tailor to hem Larry's new pants.

I ordered the dryer six weeks ago. When our Settling In service, Move One, checked this week, the company didn't remember me. I told Move One I was prepared to pay the extra $80 to just get one at M Video, an electronics chain where my friend, Diane, bought one in September. M Video, however, hadn't had a dryer in stock in months. Apparently, driers are rare as people here prefer the washer/dryer combination machines that leave you with hot, wet clothes you still have to line dry.

Move One did find me another dryer and we negotiated a delivery date. The cost is $575 (in cash only) so I needed a couple of days to amass that much from the ATM machine. (I have a withdrawl limit of $250 daily which I keep neglecting to increase.) My Move One rep, Olga, was shocked I didn't have that much cash just laying around the apartment. Anyway, by the time, she and I worked out a delivery date and she called the company back, they had SOLD the dryer!

Later that day, she found a more expensive dryer ($625) which could be delivered Friday. That cost included delivery to my building, but I had to pay an extra $3 to get them to bring it to my apartment door.

In the U.S. I'd be getting a lot of drying power for that money. Here this buys me a tiny, apartment sized dryer that doesn't require ventilation. But I am really ready to stop having so much of my life revolve around laundry!

The Towel Rack Quest

I came home to a dirty apartment, six suitcases to unpack, piles of dirty laundry and an empty refrigerator. Everywhere I looked, there were jobs for me to do.

We ate leftover stew and potato chips our first night back as I was too tired to walk to the market to buy something to cook. The next day, Larry drove Tay and me to Mega Mall where we went to Ashan to stock up. Ashan is huge, it's cheap for Moscow, it has everything and it's always crowded. Shopping at Ashan is like going to a Wal-Mart that's having a well-publicized 75% off sale.

To beat the worst of the crowds, we went after they first opened at 10 a.m.(Moscowvites tend to sleep in.) Our other strategy was to park our cart at the end of each aisle, deftly darting through the crowd to snatch whatever food item we needed.

We checked out (cash only) and went on to Ikea in search of a free-standing towel rack. (The three of us share the master bathroom and there is room to hang up one towel.)Mocowvites treat Ikea as if they are making a leisurely stroll through the zoo. This shouldn't be a problem, except the store is so crowded that all the aisles are clogged. Ikea has one path through its stores and you are forced like a rat in a maze to travel though the entire huge store at a snail's pace before you can leave.

We were unsuccesful in our towel rack quest, but we did pick up some much needed bedside reading lamps. We then went to Stockmans, where we also couldn't find a towel rack.

Back at home, we found the perfect towel rack at Overstock.com. Unfortunately, Alec would have to drag it over in pieces in his duffle when he comes in May.

Point A to Point D

As experienced travelers, we are always mildly surprised to be delivered from point A to point B, with no unpleasant experiences. Traveling internationally, usually from point A to point D, we have no such false hopes.

Last week, Comair lost my mother's bag and Tay's bag on their flight from Salt Lake to Oklahoma City. A couple of days later, they lost both of Larry's bag. (All bags were delivered the following day.)

On our flight yesterday, Comair failed to deliver the plane. We were an hour late out of Oklahoma City, missing our Cincinatti to JFK flight by about 15 minutes. We took the next flight, arriving at JFK in time to see our Moscow flight, which had already pulled away from the gate, head toward the runway.

Larry and Taylor missed their Moscow flight last trip as well. Then they had Delta route them through Europe where they spent another day missing connections. Wiser this time, we opted to overnight in New York and catch the same flight tomorrow. Luckily, the Comair delay was due to mechanical problems. We stayed at the JFK Radison, courtesy of Delta. Had it been a weather-related delay, we would have been on our own. Delta would have expected us to do like Tom Hank's character in The Terminal and sleep in the waiting room, returning carts for food money.

Our luggage is unretrievable so we checked in with our carry ons. Taylor, luckily, had his toiletries, but my bag was packed with an eye toward "stuck on the plane" rather than stuck at the hotel. So I had food, water, wetwipes and a travel blanket when I really needed toothbrushes, makeup and clean undies.

We took the shuttle to the Radison and settled in for our last look at American TV, watching the Apprentice and CSI. Larry called housekeeping to request toothbrushes, toothpaste and shaving cream.

We slept in a bit and discussed our options for the day over breakfast at the hotel. We had considered venturing into Manhattan via taxi and the train but realized we wouldn't have time for anything but a quick look at Rockefeller Center. (And frankly, I was not excited about the prospect of navigating another strange metro system in an unfamiliar city.)