Moscow is a much different place that when I lived here 7 years ago; it's not even the same as when we came back for a visit a couple years ago. It took me close to the first two weeks to get used to many of the changes. I'll get to some of those in later postings (well...don't hold your breath), but I thought I'd share some of the things that have NOT changed.
When I took this picture in the supermarket about three blocks from my apartment, I just had to laugh. Despite all the high-tech toys and in-your-face modernization that is Moscow these days, somehow the broom handle has yet to be invented here. Instead, Mother Russia continues to sweep the dirt from her streets as she has for the last several centuries, all hunched and doubled-over with these things. For example, the janitor in my office building has earphones for her music and a cellphone, but she still sweeps the halls with a broom that is approximately 2.5 feet long. I feel guilty, like I'm hiding some big secret from her or something. "Psst...lady, wanna see a little trick I learned back in the States?"
Anyone that's been married is painfully aware of the marathon photo sessions that come along with tying with the knot. In the time-honored tradition of long-suffering, Russians take wedding photos to a whole new level of endurance -- think the Ironman of the wedding photography world. After taking the obligatory photos right there at the ceremony, the wedding party then proceeds spend hours driving to multiple destinations all over town in order to take approximately one billion shots of the happy couple in the exact same pose and with the exact same facial expressions, but with different scenic backdrops. This was one of about 10 couples that my friend and I saw on a Saturday trip we took to a neighboring city, Vladimir.
This collection of so-far-unchanged things made my day. The big thing on top is a pryanik -- almost like a big gingerbread cookie with jam in the middle. It's a classic treat, and if it's fresh, it's fantastic. The shiny packaged treat is a sirok, a small piece of cheesecake-like dairy substance glazed with chocolate. It has to be 60% fat, if anything, and I love them. And, not only are they still around, but they haven't gotten more expensive. Five rubles for a little piece of heaven. Lastly, you can see my reciept. I have never quite figured this out, but for whatever reason, every time a cashier hands you a receipt (without fail!), they rip it. I am honestly baffled by this practice (why the tear? what is it for?), but I am extremely happy to report to everyone that the practice is alive and ubiqitous as ever.
It's nice to know that there are a few islands of stability in this sea of constant change.
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