Moscow Connection: Day 2 - Tourism Day, or The Story of Four Power-Naps

Part I Written by Ilya Shapiro

It usually takes me a few days to get over jet lag, which time period inevitably expands during the insomniac sprint of Federation missions—and this time is further extended by generous amounts of vodka. And so the second day of our Moscow trip was chock-full of tourism, meetings, and other activities, all punctuated by glorious bouts of shut-eye relaxation.

The day started at some ungodly hour, when I came down for breakfast at 8:40am (12:40am Washington time), well in time for our 8:45 scheduled departure. I’ve been singularly impressed with the food we’ve had here—and today’s prandials would prove no different. From breakfast, the highlight was definitely thick pieces of crusty black bread with cheese and tomato. Just like mom used to slice!

Though our watches showed that it was 9:10am by the time we departed, the minutes will reflect that we set off at 8:45 mission time, sharp. We soon arrived at the imposing red walls of the Kremlin, built in the fifteenth century to house and protect the royal family. Using the techniques we learned at our pre-trip meeting, we scaled the wall and mounted our attack on the state armory.

Inside the armory, we saw suits of armor—for men and horses—royal carriages (including one that was on skis, to be pulled by 23 horses on snow), crown jewels, and Fabergé eggs. Perhaps most importantly, while the group finished listening to a description of Catherine the Great’s various dresses, I caught my first power-nap of the morning.

Having evaded the guards as we escaped with a bejeweled furry crown and several diamond eggs—with functioning train inside—we hurried to see Czar Bell: a 200-ton never-rung cast-iron bell with a chunk cracked out of it. Just like the Russians: engaging in tit-for-tat power games with the Americans even before there was an America. Well, at least the Liberty Bell symbolized, um, liberty. Next we passed the equally imposing Czar Cannon. It too was never used.

Then we passed through Church Square. Why you need four churches in one place—all with those funky onion domes—was beyond me, but hey, sure impresses the tourists. While most of the group visited the inside of one of them—from a previous trip I remembered them as being much less interesting on the inside, in typical Potemkin style—I caught power-nap number two on the outside steps.

Walking outside the main gate, we just caught the changing of the guard—goosestepping, wide-brim hats, and all—at the tomb of the unknown soldier, which features a big bronze cape, spear, and helmet. As we walked by Manezh Square—which in the early post-Communist years was turned into a large park and underground mall to head off the political protests that inevitably congregated there—we passed by numerous tourist-trapping Lenin impersonators. And not only goateed three-piece-suited revolutionary vanguards; short mustachioed Stalins and corpulent bushy-eyebrowed Brezhnevs berate visitors, giving visitors the ukaz (command) to spend their hard currency on decadent Western photographs.

Red Square opened up before us, revealing the wide expanse in front of Lenin’s mausoleum. Above the tomb—we didn’t wait the two hours it took to get in to see the illuminated corpse— Soviet leaders and party VIPs would stand and review military parades (and provide fodder for Kremlinologists who studied their standing order for hints of hierarchical changes). Sadly, this is another tradition President Medvedev recently reintroduced, with massive rockets, fighter planes, and tanks making their way across the Square on May 9 (Victory Day).
Curiously, one side of the Red Square is a huge shopping mall called GUM (pronounced “goom”). It’s an ornate building built in the l890s and now contains various fountains, boutiques, and fast food stands.

Coming out the end of GUM, you come across what is probably Russia’s best-known landmark: St. Basil’s, the red cathedral with multi-colored, multi-heighted onion domes. Each of us took about 50 pictures of St. Basil’s—the place is quite striking, and each angle yields a new scene. That done, we got back on the minibus to head to the Choral Synagogue—my perfect opportunity for power-nap number three.

The 106-year-old Choral Synagogue has long been the center of Jewish life in Moscow. We had a wonderful lunch here, including beef barley soup, chicken schnitzel, and berry sorbet. Then the synagogue’s head administrator gave an informative talk about the history of the (orthodox) synagogue and of the Jewish community in Moscow and Russia. This was not a good time for power-nap number four—especially because I was in the first row of pews—but jet lag overcame me yet again. When I later asked a question, the speaker called me out for my drowsiness. The shame apparently doubled as my second wind—first wind, really—so there would be no more sleep for the weary me on this day.

After touring the synagogue, we visited with Michail Chlenov, the Secretary-General of the Euro-Asian Jewish Congress. It turns out this organization has nothing to do with U.S. soldiers fathering children in Vietnam, but instead brings together Jewish communal organizations from the Balkans to Australasia. I didn’t know there were Jews in Japan, but I guess somebody had to invent the sushi rolls that have lox and cream cheese.

Next we ferried over to Arbat Street—a long pedestrian street filled with street musicians, caricature artists, outdoor cafés, and souvenir shops, which had been the capital’s central market area for a long time. I bought three stainless steel flasks (with KGB and other Soviet insignia) and two sets of nesting dolls (decorated with Russian and Soviet leaders). Perhaps most importantly, Arbat features Moscow’s first Starbucks—a point of pride for the several locals who mentioned it to me.

Finally we shuttled to the Bronnaya Synagogue, which is the city’s Chabad/Lubavitch center. We spent several hours on the roof of the synagogue—which doubles as a trendy restaurant—and were joined by Hillel officers and members of a young professional Jewish group called e-club. The meal consisted of minced herring—shaped in the form of a fish!—accompanied by tasty tomato-cucumber-parsley salad, then grilled beef and veggies.

Our Russian hosts were dismayed that our menu hadn’t allowed us to sample the wonderful Caucasian dishes the restaurant was famous for, so we ordered some lamb, beef ribs, cutlets, and other grilled meats. Delicious! All washed down by Israeli wine. Na zdarovya! And a fine way to end a day that nourished us mentally, spiritually, and bodily.

Part II

Malka’s Addendum:

We ran back to the hotel for a strict, very strict, no really guys we mean it, 15 minute clothing change break. Thirty minutes later… the brave BGS’ers apologetically and gratefully met our driver out by the van to head into nocturnal Moscow with a few select e-club members. First stop: karaoke.

We walked up a dark obviously exclusive stairway and were about to be turned away entirely when Mischa worked his magic and we were ushered swiftly past a 1000 euro entrance fee live band karaoke private mafia party and up another candlelit stairway to an empty room with multiple tables, just for us. “Local beverages” [redacted to protect the innocent and employed] were ordered and karaoke commenced.

The Americans kicked it off with some CCR, the Russians took their turns (and Malka even sank Tum Balalayka with them!), the whole BGS group displayed remarkable teamsmanship in numerous group songs, an apple was enjoyed in an innovative way, and the first stop was brought to an end.

We walked through Moscow, optimistic at finding a more exciting replacement venue – the rooftop of the Ritz – only to find there had been a private Audi party (how did they get the car up there??) and everything was now closed. We still loitered, taking pictures in front of the red carpeted Audi special event backdrop, passing the cocktail dressed hosts as if we didn’t know any better, spinning in Faberge egg-like swivel chairs, and extending our arms above the plexiglass roof encasement to capture lit up Moscow, finally accepting the darkness when it was already the next calendar day.

We walked back to the hotel, bid adieu (or da zaftra and laila tov) to our new friends, and congregated in the hotel lobby for a night cap and snacks and debrief with our new family. (And this was the night I was going to go to sleep early!)