RJFensterman@verizon.net's Page

What can I add to what's already been said about a country with over a thousand years of recorded cultural history, and that had covered 1/6th of the globe? All I can do is what they told many years ago, when I was an umpire for high school baseball games in New Jersey -- "Call it the way you see it". So that's what I've tried to do here. The good stuff. And the bad.
I've heard it said that no one comes to Russia for the Weather. Nor for the food. Nor for the Language. Nor for the Roads...
Well,… Continue

His name was Andrei, and he drove a black Toyota Avalon. As a Russian cab-driver there were two interesting
things about Andrei: he spoke very good English, and he had actually been a professional wrestler. He felt that being a good cab-driver was more useful to society than being a wrestler. He arrived at 7 AM to the lobby of the Azimut, where we sat having wafers and coffee in lieu of a breakfast buffet that wouldn't open till 7:30. He whisked our luggage into his car, and we were off i… Continue

The black car was a 1991 Volga; that was the year the car became the choice of cab-drivers, rather than of
members of the Nomenklatura. The car emblem was a red-and-black stag. The driver looked unhappy and tired; this was understandable, considering he had just driven up from Petersburg, about 200 miles away. It was a warm day for Russia, and his shirt showed the results. His name was Boris, and the name certainly suited him: he was husky with a gruff, gravely voice, had reddish h… Continue

Kizhi would be the northern-most point on our journey, being just north of the 62' Parallel. Once we left the Island, we would be heading south and west, re-tracing our path -- a kind of deja-vu or a film being run backward: from Lake Onega into the Svir River again, and then back through the canal locks ("haven't I seen these rusty moving walls before?"), and heading toward the delta with Lake Ladoga. (We had actually passed today's destination on the trip northeast, and not been… Continue

We cruised through supper, and through the evening's entertainment -- a long-haired guitarist and his blond singing partner, who did a lot of Russian ballads; the only one I recognized (the tune, anyway) was one from years ago, known as 'Those were the Days!' in English. When you're my age, the words are very poignant:
"Those were the days, my friend/We thought they'd never end/We'd laugh and sing forever and a day./We'd live the life we'd choose;/We'd fight and never lose./ Those were the days,… Continue