Posted by Dani in Thursday, February 18, 2010 Late evening- Moscow time
We have twin beds in our room. Oh well, we were so tired at the time it really didn’t matter. I would have been thrilled to have any flat surface and a somewhat soft pillow. We slept for about 2 hours. Sweet sleep. Not nearly enough, but sweet nonetheless.
When I awoke it was getting late (Russia time) so had to get showered, dressed and find out where the Crocus Center was before everyone was gone. I had lots to do: finish powerpoint presentation, burn CD of powerpoint, find a woman named “Natalia” whom I had never met but had been emailing for several months, find the Wahl distributor and collect the needed clippers for tomorrow’s presentation, figure out where the lecture would take place, meet the translator, and find out what I could about the demo cat I would be using.
The lady at the front desk told me the Crocus Center was the big building next door. No biggie. It was snowing, and I had only slight heels on but it was not far. I bundled up in my big furry coat, donned a beret, pulled on gloves, and passed through the double-door entrance and its amazingly warm heater that blasts each patron coming in off the street. It is really cold here. That doesn’t even really describe it. It’s the kind of cold that sucks the life right out of you and makes you wonder if your bones might crack.
But it was only next door.
In Russia, “next door” must mean something different than it does in the USA. Because the show was really at the far, far end of the entire enormous complex that started next door but stretched for what seemed like miles beyond. This meant that I had to enter each “Hall” that made up the Crocus Center and attempt to find someone who speaks English enough to tell me where Zoo Russia might be. I discovered that many of the older people do not speak English and don’t even know what you are saying when you ask “English????” Anyone who spoke some English was under the age of 25, I’d say. A sign of the times, I suppose. And geez I am arrogant enough to expect them all to speak MY language when I am in THEIR country. I should have picked up that Rosetta Stone program I saw at at a kiosk at JFK.
A particular young man said he spoke a little English, which he did. But when i asked him where Zoo Russia was, he went into this long, broken whirl of words about the zoo in Russia being very far away and it was probably closed and I couldn’t walk there anyway. Imagine me trying to explain to him that it’s not a “zoo” but rather “an exhibition trade show for veterinarians and pet grooming professionals.” This was beyond his “little English” I quickly discovered. I was on my own.
I passed by Hall 3 going in the opposite direction of about 386 old ladies who were lined up to enter the hall and holding tickets in their hands. I wondered what it was that drew all of the 70 year old women of Russia out of their cozy little homes and out into the snow and cold. I was only guessing but I assumed it was not Zoo Russia. If so, I was in for a real treat when it came time to teach aggressive cat handling tricks to this particular group of ladies.
I ventured on. I slipped on the icy sidewalk. No one came to my rescue. Not a living soul despite the fact that many were passing right by me when it happened. No matter, really. I was embarrassed and would rather be left alone in my humiliation in such circumstances. I was okay it turned out. And I was pleased to know that my knee surgery from 5 months ago turned my torn up knee into a sturdy part that could handle such disasters. I chalked the event up to a fact-gathering experience: Russians will not help you when you are down and your knee works.
Alas, Hall 1. It really did exist. Now if I could just get the non-English speaking dude at the front gate to let me in despite the fact that I did not have a badge or a ticket of any sort. ”I am a speaker,” I told him. Either he understood that eventually or he was just tired of trying to figure out the game of charades I was playing. How do you show “speaker” with your hands so that someone else gets it? I need to know this for next time.
As luck would have it, Natalia was at the first place I stopped to ask if anyone knew a “Natalia.” I do realize that it is a popular name and is probably akin to asking if anyone knows a “Mary” or “Lisa.” So this leaves me wondering if the “Natalia” that I met up with today is really the one I originally needed to find. Either way, this one can get me a badge and seemed to know who I was and where I needed to be.
I think I am an ordinary person. Just one of the joes running around on this planet, working hard, taking care of my family, and living life. But apparently I am famous over here. The first 3 people I met said something like “You’re the famous cat groomer we have heard of.” Who woulda thunk it? I will be honest and admit I like hearing that I am famous all the way to the snowy, frigid regions that make up the edges of the world. Very cool. I hope they still think this tomorrow after I groom a cat on the big stage.
One can always hope, right?
