It wasn't until the last minute that I was sure I'd get to go.  The original plan was to leave on Monday 7/20, but I had problems getting my visa. Ann & Dima thought they could invite/sponsor me, but the visa application was rejected with notice that a Russian resident had to issue the invitation. So Alla & André, Dima’s parents, hustled off an official invitation via registered mail that reached my house on July 11. At that point I had a week to get the visa from the Russian embassy in Washington D.C. Their instructions said to mail the invitation, application, and fee of $145 for one-day processing. I should have called first because they sent everything back with new instructions that said they would not accept personal money orders, only cashier’s checks, and that the minimum processing time was now four days. So I turned around and sent everything back with a cashier’s check for $105. The visa came on Wednesday the 22^nd, and our three week trip got cut back to two since Dima’s new job starts on August 17.

Anyway, Ann and I left Indianapolis at 1:00 PM on the 25^th and got to Chicago where we left on Aeroflot for Moscow at 7:00 PM. It was a nine-hour flight with a nine-hour time difference, which worked out to us arriving in Moscow at 5:00 AM Sunday morning Indianapolis time or 2:00 PM Sunday afternoon Moscow time. I didn’t really sleep on the plane – just closed my eyes for several hours. We collided with the sunrise at about midnight Indianapolis time.

Dima’s brother Jenya met us at the airport after we got our passports and visas stamped. (There were no customs questions or searches in Moscow.) We would have had a really tough time getting to Novokuznetsk without Jenya’s help. Dima had come over alone three weeks earlier. Before he left he warned us not to take a taxi from the airport. "If you take a taxi, you will die", he said. We took a bus from the international airport to a subway station in Moscow (puddle of blood in the lobby…) then caught a trolley to the bus station that serves the domestic airport. There we bought tickets for a flight to Novokuznetsk that leaves at about 10:00 PM Moscow time. The flight to Novokuznetsk should take about four hours, with another four-hour time change. Hopefully I’ll get some sleep on the plane before we land at 6:00 AM Novokuznetsk time.

I went to the tualet, where I had to pay a woman 3 rubles ($.50) to get a token that let me through a turnstile into the pissoir. Then I walked around the bus terminal. Black seems to be the major fashion statement around here, with women wearing miniskirts and see-through blouses. It’s about 80° F. The kiosks sell candy, soft drinks, small appliances, and underwear.

The woman selling the airline tickets to Novokuznetsk didn’t like my sleeping pad tied to my pack – didn’t like it at all. So I carried it with me on the plane. She didn’t charge us extra for having heavy baggage though. A man at the ticket counter was trying to check three hay-bale-sized packages on to the plane, but he claimed his money had been stolen and he was asking passengers to chip in to pay for his extra luggage. Someone asked how much he needed and he said one million rubles. I didn’t see anyone jump up to contribute.

The airline transaction included a bus trip through Moscow to the domestic airport. Moscow has advertising everywhere. It’s weird to see Western products and logos advertised with Cyrillic lettering.

I thought the bus had dropped us off at an abandoned terminal. They told us to get off and wait for another bus since the one we were on was broken down. When the other bus came, it just took us to the other side of the same rusty, rundown building. After a couple minutes on the runway, a woman led us all to some stairs about fifty yards away. Upstairs the waiting area reminded me of a high school cafeteria – linoleum and plastic.

Once we were on the plane, I slept/dozed for the four-hour flight. With a four-hour time change, we were on the ground in Novokuznetsk at 6:00AM Monday local time or 5:00 PM Sunday Indianapolis time. I was glad to see Dima waiting for us at the airport, but not half as glad as Ann was. Dima’s friend Valery has a car, and he drove us to Alla and Andre's apartment where we took hot showers and had a big breakfast of onion and tomato salad, pelmini (dumplings stuffed with ground meat), and tea. Then we took off with André to exchange money and see Novokuznetsk.

He pointed out the local buildings – children’s hospital, post office, library – as we walked along wide sidewalks and narrow dirt paths. The striking thing to me was the complete absence of lawn care. There are no lawns, just grass and weeds and whatever growing wherever. Other than that, the buildings seem fairly modern in an industrial style and mostly in good shape. It wouldn’t quite make it as a model American city though.

The first bank we went to had just gone under – bankrupt. People who had lost their life savings were hanging around quietly like this gave them a reason to sit for a while. Dima explained that in Novokuznetsk Russians are now being paid with vouchers that represent a promise of money but that have no monetary value in themselves. People work because jobs are scarce and they believe they will be paid eventually. Businesses barter with each other for materials and services, some of which they distribute to workers in lieu of wages. Occasionally they pay ten percent or so of the money they owe. Cash is scarce and crime is prevalent. High-level corruption defeats foreigners’ attempts at bailing the country out with infusions of cash.

The next bank we tried wasn’t buying currency that day. The third bank had a good exchange rate (6.20 rubles/US dollar), and they were buying, but suddenly there was some question about whether we might find a better deal somewhere else. We finally decided it would be fine here, and we got several hundred dollars worth of rubles so we could buy our return plane tickets to Moscow.

We walked around some more while André pointed out government buildings, theaters, monuments and other points of interest. People were walking and standing around everywhere we went. It felt like school had just let out. As Ann observed later, the US would be the same if only a few percent of the people had cars. We got back to the apartment at about 1:00 PM and slept for a couple hours because we couldn’t keep our eyes open any longer.

Valery came by after we got up, and he drove Ann, Dima, Alla, and me to OVIR (the local passport/immigration office) to register our passports as prescribed on our visas. The woman who handled this was the most enthusiastic bureaucrat I’ve encountered. This was obviously a prestigious and important job to her. She shared an office with an assistant while the other clerks had desks in an open office outside her door. Dima speculated that most of the twenty or so people hanging out in the hallways were applying for emigration to Germany, as this is available to Russians who can prove they are of German descent. There were three phones in her office and she took several calls while she filled out our paperwork. At one point she had two calls going at once. She was cordial and efficient without being either warm or officious. She had a PC with an inkjet printer, but all the forms were filled out by hand. Dima went to another office somewhere nearby to pay a registration fee. After about twenty minutes Alla and the apparatchik had completed all the information on the forms (date and place of birth, occupation, etc.) and Dima had returned with the proper receipt. Now it was time to sign and stamp the papers. She stood up from her desk and bore down on the stamp with her full weight, but it still came out faint because her ink pad was dry.

We took Alla back to the apartment and picked up André. Then we headed out to see the fortress in the original city of Kuznetsk, across the river from Novokuznetsk. The local government had restored the fortress in honor of Kuznetsk’s 380^th anniversary this year. 380 is significant because it is the first round number anniversary since the fall of the Soviet Union (which prohibited such observances). The fortress was impressive with thick, stone walls and a good view of the city below. Novokuznetsk has 600,000 people, and 35,000 of them work in a gigantic steel mill outside of town. Next we went up the hill a little ways to drive around the mental hospital where Dima used to work. We didn’t see any inmates.

Valery dropped us off in Novokuznetsk at the ticket office for Aerokuznetsk. The flight back to Moscow was 50 rubles higher than it had been to get out here a couple days ago. Also, foreigners pay twice the fare of Russian citizens, so Ann and I paid 1700 rubles each while Dima paid 850 (on his Russian passport).

Back at the apartment Alla had stuffed peppers, salad, and more pelmini waiting for dinner. The mother of one of Dima’s high school friends was here; she had lots of questions about America – particularly regarding our widespread poverty and racism. Valery also came by for dinner. André poured us vodka and wine, and I went to bed before the party broke up. Slept well until about 8:00 AM Tuesday.