Thomasineurope
Frequent Guest
Joined: 29 Apr 2006
Posts: 71
Location: SPB, Russian Federation
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 Posted: Tue Feb 05, 2008 12:52 pm Post subject: Its been awhile since my last blog, so here you go... ENJOY! |
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A Russian week in review...
As my return to Russia one week ago has been met with limited Internet access and as one might expect, equaled by as little soberness, I am here to bring you all up to date.
My Russian travel visa was finally awarded after two and a half weeks in Tallinn, Estonia. While I was quite pleased to return home to Piter, I was also surprised to find myself disappointed to depart all of my newfound friends in Estonia who made my exile there spectacular. From “Neimeta” Baar (translated as “The Bar With No Name”), where my fan base continually prodded me to take to the dance floor (as they simply could not figure out how one slides about the way that I do), to the countless after parties, drinking by habit with my Goth girls and, of course, the beloved DM Baar (Yes, there are two “a”s in “Baar”. In fact, if you care to learn how to spell in Estonian, I have learned it is as simple as randomly doubling various letters in every word. I think it’s done to confuse the Commies, keeping them on their toes…).
Finally, my return journey was complete. On my first day in Peter I met with my employers to receive my new apartment and complete my registration documentation. I was further awarded with the news that as my delay orchestrated a scheduling conundrum, my start of teaching has been left as “undetermined”. Therefore, while this means that I will be without pay until my start, I am now living rent free in an excellent apartment (only some 20 meters off Nevsky Prospect, the main strolling street of all Piter) and only have my drinking and food intake as expenses. Luckily for me, as an alcoholic, in reality this means that drinking is my only countable expense.
My first night out in Piter would call my return to both Dacha and Fidel, my two favorite dive bars that I call home. My welcoming there was all one could ask for...
Upon arriving near the entrance to Dacha, “Egor”, the six and a half foot, rock-a-billy doorman spotted my approach.
“Tomas!!! How are you? Where have you been???”
We immediately shook hands and exchanged a pat on the back as I described the delays I faced in my return. He was convincingly happy to see me home, as we have become old friends by now.
Next it was Sasha, himself currently working the door. Not wishing to be rude, I awaited as he collected the cover charge from the two Russians before me. His attention was not as sharp however; as he immediately welcomed me back into town. Arriving in front of him, we shook hands as I asked what the cover tonight would be. This of course being nothing more then small talk as I already new the response I would receive…
“Tomas, you do not pay here… please, have a great night”.
I entered Dacha and in a familiar step, immediately approached the bar. Two or three people deep stood awaiting a chance for a drink, however my status as a regular here would allow me a greater honor. Within seconds, George, my bartender, would realize me presence. Then as such, he stopped what he was doing, walked the length of he bar, then divided the customers in front of him by his arm as he reached out to shake my hand. Further ignoring those there before me, he reached for a glass and poured my expected order of a vodka tonic. This followed by two shot glasses of his chosen Jagermiester so that we could share a toast.
Yes ladies and gentlemen, I am home.
Next door would follow in the same display. Arriving at Fidel, I was welcomed back with a handshake from all the door staff. Noticing my entrance, my regular bartender of this new bar made his way to take my order. Then upon reaching me he stopped, accepted a look of ignorance and then returned to the bar to make what he already new I wanted… my preference of drink has been well noted here. Then returning to me, he began to pass the drink across the bar. Yet again, this action was interrupted. Taking the same face of embarrassment, he paused, pulled the straw from my glass, gave my drink a brief stir and then threw the straw to the ground (I always discard my straw after a brief stir of my drink). I have been gone nearly three weeks, giving enough time it would seem for him to learn my mannerisms, displaying such to the exact in preparation of my first drink back. Accepting the glass, and a shake of the hand… I was back.
This entire week recounted the same recognition to my return. My many now old friends welcomed me, while, as is Russia, many new friends were received. Everything is as it should be. Piter is my new home and is doing all in its power to assure I do not again depart anytime soon. I have waited years for this… and only now have I realized how much it seems that Russia has been awaiting me as well.
I am an Expat. |
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