14 April 2012 - Finding Religion

The Moscow International SDA Church

[Insert the name of your favorite hymn here.  I'm gonna go with, "A Mighty Fortress."]

When I was still staying at the Swissotel, I had seen in the Friday issue of The Moscow Times the religion section with a notice for the Seventh Day Adventist church here, even indicating that it had services in English.  Bonus.  Now, as most of you know, "backslidden" would be a kind way to describe my religious status these days.  But it's a part of my culture and traditions and when I am in an unfamiliar place, the familiarity of the services can be soothing.  It also is a great way to practice one's pronunciation in the new language!  (Incidentally the Russian Embassy is just around the corner from the SDA church in Frankfurt that I attended a few times.)

While at the Swissotel I had planned on attending one day and got dressed up and everything, but then they were late in getting me my eggs at the executive lounge and, well....  But today I was serious about it.  I had recalled that the newspaper announcement listed a Metro stop that required a couple of changes, so I thought this could be a long trek.  Turns out the church has a web site that gave quite good directions for getting there.  It is accessible from either the Nagatinskaya or Kolomenskaya Metro stations.  The newspaper had mentioned the Nagatinskaya station, which is the one that requires several transfers.  The Kolomenskaya station, however, was just four stops on the line that is closest to my place.  Perfect.  There was one other note in the directions, though.  If you arrived at Nagatinskaya, it was a 15 minute walk to the church, but it would be about a 25 minute walk from the Kolomenskaya station.  I did not relish a 25 minute walk in heels, especially as sidewalks in good repair are not a guarantee here.  Hmmm....  But wait, what else did the directions mention?  Oh, yes, "the tram."  Tram?  What tram?  Never heard or seen anything that I would classify as a tram here.  Maybe they were calling the electric buses trams?  Hmmm....

I followed the detailed instructions on how to exit the Metro station to find the tram and finally found some people standing around tracks in the street, so I figured that must be the place.  But I couldn't find a place to buy a ticket and wasn't sure if this was something that you bought from the little news and tobacco kiosks in the area.  But as I was pondering this, a tram arrived.  And it was not an electric bus, but a single street car.

I watched as other people got on board and the process seemed somewhat lengthy, but that was because people were buying their tickets directly from the driver through a little hole in the window between the driver's compartment and the rest of the car.  Fascinating.  So I bought my ticket this way (RUB 28 or a little less than $1 per ride, if you're curious), but then couldn't figure out how to use it in the turnstile.  With an arrow at the top of the ticket, it seemed like it should be pretty self-explanatory.  As I struggled with this, a few old ladies were looking at me like I was an idiot.  Nope, just an American apparently lacking in common sense.  They were talking to me and apparently telling me what to do, but of course it was in Russian and lost on me.  Then one of them took pity on me and came up and inserted the card for me - arrow first but card upside down.  Ah....  The rest of the ride was relatively uneventful and one of the stops was right across the street from the church (good thing the web site had a picture of the church so I recognized it as there were no announcements on the stops).

The church building looks large enough, but the sanctuary itself is extremely small (850 square feet).  According to the web site, this is a church where (due to foreigners visiting the country, for example) membership is actually smaller than attendance, the latter of which averages 270 (yes, all stuffed into 850 square feet).  They opened up a large space in the wall between the foyer and the sanctuary so that more people could see the services, but that's overflowing as well.  Forget niceties like a room for parents and infants.  They are trying to raise money to build a larger church, but of course the visitors are not as likely to give large offerings for this, so the burden falls to the members, nearly 70% of whom are under the age of 35, so still early in their careers.

I had arrived early enough that I was able to score a seat in the sanctuary, which was an open area with small upholstered seats arranged in rows and a large set of lights and other things overhead because, as it turns out, they stream the services on the internet.  I was really surprised by this as it seemed like something that one would expect of a large church with professional A/V staff and all.  Nope, just a line of young guys at the back of the sanctuary.  (If you're having insomnia late Friday night or early Saturday morning in the US, you can tune in at http://www.moscowchurch.ru/ and there are also archived sermons - all with English translation.)

A few highlights from the service that differed a bit from what I'm used to:

• The "praise singing" section at the beginning of the service featured lyrics on the overhead in both Russian and English.  I guess you were welcome to sing in whichever was easiest, though I couldn't hear anyone else singing in English.
• There were different translators throughout the service.  During the opening portion that included the praise singing, welcome and announcements, the translator was a young and energetic young man who was probably either still in high school or early on in college.  The translator during the sermon was a young woman who was very expressive, which helped to keep the audience's attention, though I suspect that her being quite attractive with a beautiful smile and playful eyes would have been enough to keep the male audience engaged in either event.
• Given the limited space or perhaps the hard tile floor, we didn't kneel during the service.
• I didn't need to wear heels.  This is one of those wonderful churches where you can wear whatever you have.  Not sure whether this was a function of the youthful nature of the audience, income limitations or general culture, but anything from jeans to suits to beautiful princess-like Easter dresses for the little girls was just fine.
• This was one musically talented group!  There were four different musical performances, including an a  cappella trio of women who I have to believe are of Filipino ancestry with their beautiful smiles and sweet voices singing in English, a woman who sounded like she had had professional singing experience, a tiny girl we could hardly see but who sang like an angel and a talented pianist who was apparently doing variations on a theme that he was creating real-time.  Just amazing.

Overall, a really nice experience.  I think I'll go back now that I know how to get there, though I have to admit that it is tempting to sleep in and watch the services online in my PJs....

8 April 2012 - Performance Events in Russia

Interior of the Moscow Conservatory's concert hall

Since I have been in Russia, I have had the privilege of attending two performances that I would consider to be cultural events.

The first was a dance performance with Igor Moiseyev Dance Company, a famous Russian dance company that is celebrating its 75th anniversary this year and which has focused on folk dance.  A colleague of mine who I will call Larry (protecting the innocent and all) had invited me to the event as a friend (we will call her Allison - also not her name) had received some free tickets to the sold-out event.  I was in!  I should note that both Larry and Allison are probably somewhere in their 60s and apparently attend these types of cultural events all the time, so it was a perfect opportunity for me to see how I was supposed to behave or if there were things that were done a bit differently than in the US or Western Europe.

Larry and I went to the even straight from the office and met Allison in the foyer of the venue.  She is just adorable with the most natural smile and warm manner I had seen in a while.  She doesn't really speak English, though, so Larry was doing a lot of translating between us.  And when he wasn't around, that didn't stop her from speaking to me in Russian like we'd known each other forever and I knew exactly what she was talking about.  For some odd reason, I found myself responding in German.

She brought me a little gift - a small apple made out of light-colored marble or stone with a metal stem.  She presented it to me saying, "Like the Big Apple from America."  Charming!!  Of course, I had nothing in return and felt a bit awkward.  Around this time, her daughter and granddaughter met us.  Her daughter's father (I assume Allison is then divorced?) was actually conducting the pit orchestra (which was actually in a side balcony rather than in a pit, but you get the idea) for the dance company.  As such, he had some comp tickets, which is how we got in.  Allison's daughter is apparently also an accomplished pianist and spoke some English, which was welcome.

The venue was nice and quite ornate, though with not much legroom and with rather narrow seats, but the views were fine an acoustics good.  I didn't notice anything unusual about the event etiquette, other than when the performance was late by around 10 minutes, the crowd started clapping.  I couldn't figure it out as I didn't see anything happening on stage, which I guess was the entire point.  On another, I noticed for future reference that had it not been for Larry, I'm not sure I would have been able to figure out where our seats were, either from the ticket or for the levels since, of course, everything was in Russian.

I did, however, get a further taste of Russian hospitality after the event, though.  Allison's son-in-law was picking up her, her daughter and granddaughter, so Larry had made arrangements for them to drop me by my hotel (this was on my second trip to Russia when I was still staying in the Swissotel).  Since there was only seating for a total of five people (four passengers), that left no room for Larry, so he was going to take the subway by himself.  I said that was ridiculous and I would go with him, but he insisted that I go with the others.  It did not seem that I had a choice in the matter.

So we piled in the car.  I was getting into the back, but the others insisted I ride in the front, which I thought was not right since I was getting out before everyone else anyway, but again, they insisted.  So Allison's son-in-law (we'll call him David) started driving towards the Swissotel.  Now, the Swissotel is right next to a major concert venue of another type, and as we approached, it seemed that it was just emptying.  Add to that the fact that it is really quite difficult to get into the Swissotel due to the way that the streets are laid out, etc.  So I suggested he pull in a spot next to the conference center of the hotel and I would just walk through the parking lot to the hotel.  Great.  Except Allison insisted on accompanying me.  So this adorable grandmother was walking through this darkish, snowy, slightly slippery parking lot with me to make sure that I got back safely, whereas I thought that I should be walking HER back to the car.  It was apparently an example of Russian hospitality, though, and there is just no arguing with it.

The second event was last night.  Larry had asked a couple weeks ago if I might be interested in going to a classical concert if he could get tickets.  After the previous event, I accepted without hesitation.  He was able to get tickets for RUB 1,200 (about $40), despite once again the event being sold out.  This time, we were able to get tickets as Allison's son-on-law, David, was playing viola in the orchestra.  Who knew?

So he and I met at the train station near the office and three stops and a train change later, we were at the venue, which was the concert hall of the Moscow Conservatory, which is a famous music school.  Allison was as delightful as before when we met her, though she noted that we were six minutes late, upon which I had a flashback to be in Germany where things are generally a bit more punctual than in Russia, or so had been my experience until this point.  Anyway, as we headed in, she stopped to point out the poster for the evening's program.  I had to do a bit of a double-take and thought perhaps I was reading it incorrectly.  But I was not.  You can see a poor picture of said poster here.

If you can zoom in on the top right, you'll see that the conductor is no other than Sir Michael Tippett.  And yes, the group would be singing spirituals.  I can honestly say that I never expected to hear spirituals sung in a large concert hall in Moscow - and with not a single black person among the choir, which was also a bit surprising.  But it was really good.  This was the first half of the program and during the intermission I asked Allison and Larry if they were familiar with spirituals and understood the background with slavery and all that.  It seems that they had not and had, without that background, been a bit surprised by what they thought was supposed to be a classical performance, but they liked it and the way the a cappella voices blended together.

The second half of the program consisted of selections from Bernstein's "Wonderful Town," which made for a rather American-sounding evening.  I had heard music from this work before, but hadn't previously seen the entire musical (or portions of it) performed.  The performance was, of course, in English with the exception of a narrator of some sort who spoke in Russian.  I'm not sure whether the original calls for a narrator or if this was just a way to help those who didn't understand English follow what was going on.  So I wasn't sure if I was missing out on something but enjoyed it all.  And what was quite charming at the end is that after the clapping (the crowd here and before got to a point where the clapping was rhythmic rather than random, which I guess is perhaps an encore request?), the cast and orchestra agreed to perform one piece again for us.  But only if we would participate with them.  The song?  "Conga."  Oh, yeah!  So the audience was on its feet and on the ground floor (we were in the balcony) there were literally conga lines going around.  Too, too funny!

I really enjoyed the performance and Larry and Allison said that they had as well, though they hadn't been sure before the concert whether they might like the music and it wasn't "classical" in the sense they are used to.  All good, though.  So after David picked up Allison, in the spirit of Russian hospitality and being a true gentleman, Larry walked me home.  As it turns out, the concert venue was straight down the road from my apartment about seven minutes away.  Who knew?

Oh, and there was another gift involved, this time an egg in celebration of Easter, even though the Russian Orthodox Easter isn't for another couple of weeks.  I do so love the warmth of people I have met here.

My gifts from Allison

7 April 2012 - The Subway

My morning commute consists of a 10 minute walk to the Teatralnya Metro station, a ride on said Metro (Green line), exiting at the second stop (Paveletskaya) and another 10 minute walk to the office - just about 30 minutes door to door.  Not a bad commute and only slightly longer than my commute in Germany.  But I suspect that if I tried to drive to the office, even though it's not very far from home, it would take significantly longer.

Some of the partners I have spoken with here can't believe that I would take the Metro.  Now it turns out that most of these partners either are Russian and live quite a ways outside of town and have a nice ride or, in the case of at least one, has his own driver (clearly the Russian partners make more than we do in the US!).  I'm a BIG fan of rail transit, stemming back to taking the commuter rail when I lived in the suburbs of Chicago, to the Amtrak Hiawatha between Milwaukee and Chicago (one of the few profitable Amtrak routes, I might add), to the subway in Chicago or New York, and most assuredly the incredible local and high speed rail in Germany.  But when they said this before I had experience with the Moscow Metro I was a bit concerned.  The concern was, of course, entirely needless.  It's certainly different than in Germany, to be sure, but with a few modifications in my perspective and behavior, I have become a big fan.

I decided to try the system one weekend when I was still staying at the Swissotel.  You know, to see how bad it might really be, but doing so during a weekend where hopefully there would be fewer users and it would be easier to figure things out.  I asked the concierge at the hotel about the Metro and how I could buy a ticket.  He paused and asked if I'd like him to arrange a car service or taxi.  This didn't inspire much confidence in the Metro, but I declined the offer.  He then said it might be helpful to write the request in Russian, so he wrote something on a piece of paper that apparently I was supposed to provide to the cashier.  (Alas, no kiosks where I could buy a ticket.)  He estimated that I could get a 10-ride for "around 300 Rubles."

I will admit that when I slid this note under the glass at the cashier's desk I felt a bit like a bank robber and wondered if the cashier on the other side might feel the same way.  She looked at it, then at me with a raised eyebrow.  But she took the 500 Ruble note I had offered, did some typing on her keyboard, and slipped my change and a thick paper card back into the slot - along with my note.

It turns out that the 10-ride costs RUB 265, which is a little less than $9.  There is apparently some kind of electronic chip or something inside as you  place it on a pad at the entry locations to the subway which authenticates entry and displays the number of remaining rides on the ticket.  The entry locations are gates or turnstiles without a gate or turnstile.  During rush hour, there is an employee on the other side of the "gates" who can see whether the passenger's entrance has been authorized, though this type of resource is not necessarily present during off-hours.  So far, I have not yet been asked to show my ticket on the train itself.

Each ride is good for the entire system, rather than on a zone system which I always think is overly complicated.  The system consists of a ring line that reflects the ring orientation of the city, and then other lines that spring out from it.  The stations are much further apart than I am used to within either Chicago or Germany, so just a few stops can take you quite a long way.  At the same time, it requires you to plan ahead on which station is closest to your destination as it could have a significant impact on how far you must then walk to your destination.  Fortunately, many businesses indicate in their contact information the closest Metro station, which is quite helpful.  This also tends to result in a lot of people boarding and exiting the train at each stop.

The trains operate very frequently - often nearly one per minute.  The signs are generally in Cyrillic characters, so you need to plan your path in advance and know which way to go.  For example, when I was first learning how to get to work, I knew that no matter whether I was coming or go, I should also choose to go towards the middle stations.  That station, Novokuznetskaya, when printed in Cyrillic characters starts with what looks like Hobo, so I always have this visual of being a hobo (yes, with the stick and a pack of goodies in a red bandanna tied on the stick) going to work and I always have managed to get there.

There are clear unstated rules regarding the exit and entry process of the subways.  Everyone on the outside clearly stands just to the side of the door until all people are out and then there is the mad dash to board.  It can be crowded.  There are long benches along the sides of the train with bars above them to grab on to, but no such bars in the main vestibules, so you either have to do a form of surfing or get in the midst of the aisle.  Everyone seems to seat themselves with precisely the same distance so when a seat is available, you "fit."  It's quite amazing.  During the trip, of course, like on pretty many other subways, you studiously avoid looking at others.

When you exit the subway, the real fun begins, especially during rush hour.  There are generally (at least at my two primary Metro stations) three escalators and they reverse the direction of the center escalator during rush hour to attempt to smooth the traffic flow.  Attempt.  But it is not enough.  What happens is that as soon as the doors of the trains open, a ton of people emerge and all head towards the escalators.  And you have trains running in both directions that are emptying onto the same platform, so if you are exiting and hear another train approaching from the other side, you start double-timing.

Think of a boa constrictor to get the visual here of a lot of people and only two escalator lines.  There is a mass of people.  They don't really queue per se, but nor is there actual pushing.  Rather, it is a display more aggressive pedestrian skills than what I have (though I am working on that) coupled with an the absolute refusal to acknowledge the existence of those around you.  Despite a quasi-queue, people still walk right up to the front and weasel their ways in.  No looks to the others, no  "excuse me's" or anything like that.  They just butt in and everyone continues.  The line does move, so it amuses me to no end that these people just HAVE to get about 10 people ahead of where they would have been otherwise.  The other interesting thing is that there is nearly perfectly even spacing once on the escalator - despite the aggressiveness in entering the escalator, everyone seems careful to leave an empty stair between the person in front.  And everyone moves to the right.   It is truly fascinating.

At the top of the stairs, there is another need for aggressive pedestrian skills, often driving by other streams of incoming passengers from other lines (both stations also connect with another line of the subway) and everyone trying to exit through the same gates.  Same types of "I'm not acknowledging you exist" tactics as everyone presses ahead.  Somehow this is all done with minimal body contact, which I fine mildly reassuring.  That said, one's "personal bubble" becomes quite small in all aspects of the subway.

One other thing about the subway is that some of the stations are really quite ornate inside.  I might try to take some pictures of them at some point in time, but even the kind of "plain" station that I have included above (Paveletskaya) is still much prettier than many US or German subway stations I have experienced.

Overall, a great and efficient means of transportation at a low price.  Highly recommend it.

25 March 2012 - The reality of relocating to Moscow: Part 1 (The Lads)

Oxley's new bed in an apartment bereft of furniture

[Perhaps Chumbawamba's "Tubthumper (I get knocked down)" or Pat Benetar's "Hit me with your best shot"]

I've heard it said that moving is one of the most stressful events in one's life.  I suspect that moving among countries would rank even higher.  I will be experiencing this stressful event this year.  Twice.  Great idea....

The fact that I am only supposed to be in Russia until I return to the United States this summer was a bit of a complicating factor.  It didn't make sense to move everything to Russia as there wouldn't really be enough time to fully settle before it would be time to move again.  Not to mention that most landlords aren't really interested in renting out an unfurnished apartment for less than a year.  And who knew how long it might take for everything to clear Customs in Russia?  So we decided that I would live in a corporate apartment in Russia and all of my belongings would be shipped to the US and placed in storage until I arrived there and I would just ship some things to Russia to get me through the next few months.  This also had the advantage that, since it takes a while for a shipping container across the ocean, I would have my things available as soon as I got back to the US rather than having to live in corporate housing there until everything arrived.

So far, it seems logical and convenient, right?  Aside from a few points that became more important as the process proceeded.

1. Getting me into Russia is not as easy as just buying a ticket; there's this matter of a visa.
2. 'Banes and Oxley could not be placed into storage for a few months.
3. I would be ripped from my life and roots in Frankfurt with essentially no notice or right of return.
4. Timing, as in most things, is everything.

Since the first point has been discussed at length in previous entries, I will skip it but cover the other points in separate blog postings to spread out the boredom.

Let's start with the cats.  As you may require from the posting from a few months after I moved to Germany, getting the cats there was not an easy thing and I couldn't have done it without the assistance of my sister-in-law and my brother (but mostly my incredibly organized and patient sister-in-law who went through all of the visits with the veterinarians, Department of Agriculture and more).  Somehow they made it and, perhaps due to the drugging involved, seemed no worse for the wear.

In November I had anticipated that there might be similar issues to getting them back into the US, including ensuring that their vaccinations had been given at least six months prior to their entrance.  So I finally found a veterinarian and got them in for this appointment.   (Yes, I am a bad cat mom for not having taken them in before, but honestly, where were they going to pick up rabies and distemper in my apartment?)  I explained my plans to the vet and he said, "Oh, so you'll need a pet passport."  Excuse me?  Yes, Germany has something called a Heimtierausweis that is a passport of sorts for the domestic pets to travel around the EU.  I can't make this stuff up.  It's slightly larger than a regular passport, has a little hologram on the front (with animals in the hologram) and yes, there is a place for a photo of the respective animal, though this is optional (imagine the fun I had trying to get the Lads to pose in front of a white background without their glasses and not smiling).  This document is used to record all their vaccinations as well as to document health certifications made by the vet just prior to their travel.

So this was a major hurdle out of the way, though there were still two requirements before they could go to Russia.  First, they had to get one of these health certifications no more than 10 days prior to the date of their travel.  And, second, to go to Russia they also needed to have a ringworm treatment or something as a precautionary treatment within 3-5 days of their travel, which effectively set the date after which they could travel - which was only a window of a couple of days.  Hmmmm.....  And then there is the matter of actually transporting them there.

A slight digression.  The firm somewhere along the way decided that it might also take too long to clear customs for an air shipment of my possessions, so whatever I wanted to take, I needed to be able to take as excess baggage.  Umm, seriously?  For 2-3 seasons of clothing (maybe only two, as who knows when winter ends in Moscow and whether summer might arrive before I went back to the US) and with one of those seasons consisting of a lot of large warm items as well as my new clunky snow boots?  Seriously?  I had an odd assortment of luggage available (an old Hartman rollaboard with shot bearings that I had replaced with a small Rimowa but hadn't thrown out, the small Rimowa itself, a cheap rolling duffle bag I got at Wal-Mart to bring some clothing back from the US one time, my Tumi rollaboard for 2-3 day trips, and the gigantaur Rimowa).  It sounds like a lot of luggage, but it's really not.  But it nevertheless would take up at least one of the luggage carts.  Now picture me arriving in Moscow with all of that and going through Customs.  Is there any way they would NOT stop me to look in the bags? And then think of adding on to that two large crates with the Lads in them, yowling at the top of their lungs.  Trying to find any sort of taxi that could accommodate all this stuff.  Getting set up in the corporate apartment with the cats still yowling.  It just sounded like a really, really bad scenario.

So I decided to seek professional assistance, especially since from the start I had made it clear that I would only consider this if the firm was able to get my cats there as well.  Again, not possible to put them in storage.  Also didn't make sense to ship them to Chicago (assuming my family would be willing to host them) since I'd have to move them again anyway to New Jersey.

You might be surprised at how many pet relocation companies are out there.  I'm serious.  You might also, like me, nearly experience heart failure at the prices they charge for an international relocation for said pets.  The services they would provide would include booking of cargo accommodations, pick-up of the Lads from my home, delivery to said cargo provider, pickup on the other end, and delivery to my home.  It did not include the process or costs associated with getting all relevant vaccinations, trips to the vet for the ringworm treatment and health certificate.  And of course you have to provide the crates of the proper size for shipment.  So, want to guess how much?  [I'll let you think about this while you continue reading the rest of the blog.]

Due to all the visa-related changes in timing, the move was completed before either the cats or I were able to move, so they were living in my apartment with no furniture.  I know that this sounds like cruel and unusual punishment and maybe it was, but I figured they would still prefer being in their own 'hood rather than being boarded in a place with strange animals, sounds and noises.  I did keep out a couple of their sleeping mats/pads, their toys and some other things to try to make them feel at home, but I still felt horrible.  As you can see, Oxley took to hanging out in one of the bathroom sinks, as well as on top of the kitchen cupboards when he felt scared (which of course made me feel even worse).

They seemed to get used to it, though.  Well, at least until I brought up their cargo crates from the basement.  This put Oxley on top of the kitchen cupboards for more than a couple hours.  I had hoped that they might get used to the crates so it would be less stressful when they had to go into them.  I was wrong.  When the appointed time came for the pet relocation pick-up and I tried to load them into the crates, there was much yowling, scratching, growling and yes, the need to try to pluck a cat from the top of the cupboards (which cat then cowered in the back of the crate liked a cowed being, which made me truly feel like a heel).  But off they went.

While I was flying on Aeroflot, the Lads were living the life in the Lufthansa Animal Lounge before they made the journey with Lufthansa Cargo.  Lucky guys.  (Every time I think about an animal lounge, I just picture them sipping martinis and decrying the lack of civilized travel and their disbelief that they allowed dogs and ferrets into the lounge.  And then catching a whiff of tiger and realizing they might soon be someone's appetizer.)  The cool part about this is the pet relocation company gave me their air waybill number so I could track them like a package.  While they landed about the same time as me (albeit at a different airport) it apparently takes cargo a really long time to clear customs, but they finally cleared and were picked up by the local pet relocation contacts who delivered them to my apartment just a bit before midnight.

They seemed generally fine, though Oxley had had a bit of an accident in his crate.  That didn't stop him or Banes from immediately meowing, "Where's the food?!"  Ah, the Lads.....  Oxley also had a bit of an issue with the new litter box I had purchased, which had a covering over the top to assist in corralling both unpleasant scents as well as cat litter.  I think it reminded him of the crates, so a bit of training was necessary to help him get used to it.  In the interim, the cleaning lady rolled up all rugs except the one in my bedroom, so I'm not sure whether there was an incident or this was a precautionary measure.  At this point, I think we are at the point where we can have some rugs.

So the answer?  $3,400 and some change.  Oh, and the firm decided that this wasn't included in my package since it wasn't a long term assignment but a short term assignment following a three year long-term assignment.  WHAT?!  Somehow I don't think they would treat the human children of people this way and I'm not done with this issue yet.

11 March 2012 - Getting a work permit - on Sunday

Upon entering Russia with your visa that was issued to allow you to get a work permit, you must meet in person with the FMS (Federal Migration Service) within three business days of your arrival for an interview in order to actually get the work permit. I had heard from others that there was a long interview involved as well as lots of stamping of documents. The firm provides someone to take you through this experience that is generally performed entirely in Russian. I faced this with a bit of trepidation.

So my colleagues in Russia set up a meeting with the FMS the Sunday after I arrived. Yes, that's right, a Sunday. The previous Thursday was a national holiday (International Women's Day), so people also took off Friday in exchange for working on Sunday so that they still had a sort of three day weekend. I thought this was just something that our firm was doing and assumed that if the government gave its employees the Friday off, they certainly wouldn't make them work on Sunday (I mean, they're government employees and don't they usually get more holidays off than the rest of us?). But I was wrong. Not only were they working, but the offices were open for business to the public just like on any other business day. This was the beginning of my confusion over the process that was to follow.

Overall, I was surprised with the reality of it all, though - extremely quick, direct and efficient. Yes, we are talking about a government agency here.

The office where we had an appointment was only a short cab ride away. It was a relatively drab, non-descript building that didn't exactly scream "government" in the way that many other drab, non-descript buildings might. The outer door was unlocked and we walked right in and through a metal detector that beeped quite a bit as we passed through. At the top of the staircase as you entered were some security types watching people come in, but who were apparently unperturbed by the beeping and not inclined to ask to search our bags for possible weapons as might be the case at a federal building in the U.S. Also unlike the U.S., we walked directly to a door, knocked and walked in, and were directly in someone's office. No gate keepers. No queue. I was so confused.

When we walked into the office, the first thing I noticed was, of course, the occupant of the office - a relatively young woman in her late 20s or early 30s dressed in a way that suggested competence and professionalism. Hmmmm.

The second thing I noticed was the ambience. By which I mean the chill music that was playing in the background. Where is the horrible elevator music? This was actually, well, pleasant. Not so governmental.....

The third thing that caught my eye was the computer on the desk. No, not an aging PC from the 90s, but an iMac. Which I suppose might also have been enabling the chill music.

And the final thing that I really was not expecting? A Liebherr calendar. No, not featuring their line of eco-friendly refrigerators (including wine cabinets, not that I have been checking), but their heavy construction equipment. German/Swiss equipment. Featured in a government office of a trendy young woman chilling out while working on her iMac. Fabulous. Perhaps it instilled a bit of Swiss efficiency into the process as this normally bureaucratic process was accomplished in just about 5 minutes!

Anyway, I got the work permit. I learned later that those who get the full work permit, versus the HQS type, have to go to a large building on the outskirts of the city where there are long lines and a lot of frustration. Ah, THAT sounds more like government in action, no matter where you go.

21 March 2012 - Busy season food

The first few months of the year are pretty hectic for auditors and are generally known collectively as "busy season." (It is not the same thing as tax season, which most people seem to think of when they think about accountants, though there is of course some overlap.) Audit busy season is not driven entirely by a deadline as it may be for one's personal taxes, though there are similarities. The frenetic time is primarily driven by the simple fact that the majority of companies have a fiscal year that is the same as the calendar year. So they close their books in early January and then expect the auditors to be immediately available to audit said books. Publicly traded companies do indeed have deadlines by which they must file their audited financial statements, so they generally get priority. But any way you look at it, everything needs to get done before 31 March because then you are in the midst of first quarter financials and the cycle just keeps on going.

The practical impact of this is that auditors work like dogs during these months, working late into the night and on weekends and generally are not allowed to take vacations (and if they do, they risk the scorn of their colleagues who are still slaving away at the office while they are on the beach or hitting the slopes). This time of year also coincides with cold and flu season, so add sickness to the mix and it can be a really miserable time of year.

The firm does try to ease the pain as much as possible, though. In our Chicago office, for example, free lunch was provided in the office on Saturday. Generally, our professionals are out at the client during the week, but the clients aren't wild about us roaming about their premises unsupervised, I suspect, so the teams often work at home or in the office, so this is a nice perk.

In Frankfurt, I don't recall any perks other than the monthly cocktail hours held on Friday evening at the office, which happens throughout the year. And let's be honest, who wants to spend a Friday night drinking at the office rather than spending precious hours with friends or family?

Our Moscow office, though, takes busy season seriously and demonstrates it through a lot of feeding. It starts in the morning. First, a plate of sliced lemons is delivered in each kitchen area to be used with the tea (which is the preferred drink here, rather than coffee, which is difficult for me to get accustomed to). Then, somewhere around nine, a huge basket of fruit is also delivered to the kitchen areas. You can tell when it has arrived as a swarm of people is making its way towards the kitchen. Same fruit every day - bananas, apples and oranges. And finally, at 8 PM, pizza or some other type of dinner is delivered, though it's not clear to me where the feast occurs - I just see audit colleagues bringing some of the spoils back to their desks. All in all, though, a very nice gesture that improves morale, might strengthen immune systems through the healthy fruit and lets our people know we do care about them. Well, and their productivity. ;-)

18 March 2012 - In search of legality

(Warning: This blog posting is likely to be a bit on the dry side, but I consider it an important part of getting to Russia, so I'm sharing it anyway. It'll also give you a bit of the frustration involved in the process.)

Despite our obvious charms (and our arrogance, of course), there are some places where the famous blue passport (you know the one I'm talkin' about and it is not the one from Canada) isn't enough to let you into another country. You know, such as countries that have traditionally had issues with the US -- like Russia and China. So a visa application is required, which visa varies depending on how much time you have, the amount you're willing to pay (no, not talking about bribes), the purpose of your visit and, of course, whether it appears that you want to stay there for the rest of your life or if you will indeed leave.

(As a side note, do you know that US passports were generally green until 1976 when the color was changed to blue in honor of the bicentennial? Or have you seen one of the limited edition green ones that were issued for about a year starting in 1993 to commemorate 200 years of the US Consular Service. There were also red passport covers in the past. Who knew??)

Anyway, when I first learned that I needed to go to Russia, I had very little time as I wanted to get here for as much transition time as possible with my predecessor in the job. Alas, getting a business visa is not a very quick thing. As near as I can tell, our firm in Germany must issue a request letter that indicates a bunch of things. Our firm in Russia, in term, submits something to the Russian government, which then (if you're lucky) issues an official invitation letter. That must be physically mailed/shipped from Russia to Germany, which takes about two days. THEN you begin the real visa request process, which involves filling out a very long firm reminiscent of my requests for licenses to practice law or be a public accountant, in terms of requiring a lot of detailed information about where you have gone to school, where you have lived and a bunch of things you have likely forgotten about and must spend some time researching. (My favorite request was a list of all the countries I have visited in the past 10 years and the year of travel. Seriously?!) In my case, I then turned over my passport along with the application form, an extra passport photo and the invitation letter to a visa service provider.

I don't know about you, but when I am in a country that is not my own, I get a bit nervous about handing over my passport. And while it's true that you don't generally have to show state-issued photo identification to travel within the Schengen zone countries (generally the European Union with a few notable exceptions like the UK not participating but Switzerland does), when you show up at a German hotel and speak in English, you are usually asked for your passport.

Now, as luck would have it, I was scheduled to be traveling the day that the official invitation letter should be received from Russia. Ditto for our entire practice. So I had to beg a poor, unsuspecting intern who wasn't attending the meetings with the rest of us to please pick up our mail from the mailroom, look for this envelope for me, and then combine it with the precious packet of documents containing my passport, and take it to the visa service provider. Meanwhile, I made a color photocopy of my passport and asked (okay, begged) my assistant to please call the hotel and make sure I would be able to check in without the original passport. They said they would note it, and indeed it wasn't a problem. I still felt a bit naked without that little blue book, though!

When we submitted the application, there was also a bit of a mystery as to how long it should take to get the visa (a double-entry business visa). One source said it would be 5-7 business days (which would get me there after my predecessor was already gone), whereas another said 3-5 business days for expedited service. Fortunately, the latter range was correct. But still, I had to book flights and hotel in advance in order to request the visa, so each day was a guessing game of whether I would indeed travel then or if I would have to re-schedule. I also had another trip to Munich that raised my anxiety again about traveling without my passport. Fortunately, though, everything worked out and I traveled to Moscow with about three days of transition time with the predecessor.

I was only able to stay in Moscow about a week for my first trip due to some meetings I had to attend in Prague. This meant that when I returned, I would essentially have to camp out there until my work permit was ready as otherwise I would have no right to re-enter the country. No problem, though. I mean, how long could that really be?

Most work permits take at least three months to obtain, which was time we didn't have. There is a faster kind of work permit/visa known as the HQS (for Highly Qualified Specialist - don't laugh when you think of me and this label in the same sentence, please). This one could allegedly be obtained in about four weeks from the time that I had a contract with the Russian firm. So on the first of February, I signed a contract and the estimated availability of the work permit was 24 February. Terrific. So I felt comfortable leaving Russia on the 19th of February for a client matter back in the European Union, with the idea that I would be on site at the client on 20-23 February, then return to Frankfurt on the 24th and pick up the work permit then. I followed up periodically to ensure that the 24th was still the date we were shooting for and nothing seemed to change. Terrific. Everything functioning as planned. I felt like I still lived in Germany....

There was one slight wrinkle in that the 23rd was a national holiday in Russia (Motherland Defenders Day) and many were also taking the 24th off, though the latter wasn't an official national holiday. On the 22nd, it occurred to me that I wasn't sure how/where I should pick up the work permit, so I sent an email to our team in Russia to see what the plan was. With the three hour time difference, the team had already gone home for the day/holiday, though I did get a response on the 24th, right around the time I landed in Frankfurt. Essentially, due to the holiday, the Russian government hadn't yet provided the invitation letter, so things would be delayed a while for the visa.

What invitation letter? What visa? What about the work permit? Despite the weeks of obsessive-compulsively (Lord help me, I AM an accountant with a checklist problem) re-confirming the process and timeline, I was told that the 24th was the day that our firm in Russia expected to get yet another invitation letter from the Russian government. This would then have to be mailed to us in Frankfurt, upon receipt of which we would have to do yet another visa that would likely take another week. Uhhh, WHAT?!!!! I noted that they had arranged for me to move into my corporate apartment in Moscow on the 1st of March, so even if they'd gotten the letter on time, there was no way under the timeline they'd just outlined that that was possible. "Well...."

This is about the time that I saw my carefully crafted timetable begin to disintegrate and my life as I knew it begin a sort of death spiral. That timetable looked as follows (24th was a Friday):

• 25-26 Feb - Haircut in Frankfurt (I remain freaked out by the idea of finding a hairdresser in Russia and let's not even ponder the whole coloring aspect - and I think color will be even more important with the stress-induced proliferation of silver strands that will be occurring in the next months). And then frantic work to determine which things I could fit in suitcases to take to Russia, which things should be thrown out, which electrical goods I needed to find homes for, and which things should be sent via sea to the US in a shipping container and placed in storage until my arrival. And hopefully dinner or brunch with my fantastic neighbors.
• 27 Feb - Lads to the veterinarian for a health certificate and parasite treatment. Russia requires that the parasite treatment be administered within 3-5 days of travel.
• 28 Feb - Moving day, after which my apartment would no longer be livable for humans (but perhaps okay for cats awaiting their transport)
• 29 Feb - Return of Hudson, my delightful A5 lease car. Pick-up of Lads by PetRelocation.com contact for the journey; they will spend the night in Lufthansa's Animal Lounge (not joking - http://lufthansa-cargo.com/index.php?id=138).
• 1 March - Flight to Russia. Lads arrive in Russia.

So moving one piece of this puzzle would more or less cause the house of cards to come down. Lovely. So, what to do? Well, not a whole lot of options other than just rolling with the flow and seeing what happened.

The invitation letter finally arrived in Frankfurt on Wednesday, along with a reminder that I would need an HIV test. Huh? There was also a recommendation to use a visa service in Berlin. I asked whether this visa was procedurally different than the previous one, in which case I would prefer to have the local visa service do the work so we didn't lose even more time shipping the passport (!!) and other documents to Berlin and back. They said it wouldn't matter. So while I was rushing to my doctor to get an HIV test, I had my assistant contact the local visa service to ensure that they could perform the work and to get an idea of how long this might take.

When I finally emerged from the doctor's office (miraculously, they did not see fit to give me an infusion via IV as in the past, so the appointment only took a little over an hour instead of the regular 2-3 hour visit), a few things had taken place. First, the local visa service said that an HIV test (results of which wouldn't be available until Friday, which already had me concerned) were not needed in Frankfurt, only in Berlin. Um, why would it matter where you applied? No one seemed to know.

The other tidbit is that the local visa service said that because the duration of this visa was over three months, they could not take care of the visa for me and I would need to physically present myself at the Russian consulate in Frankfurt, which naturally does not accept appointments in advance. It also wasn't clear whether they would speak English. Lovely.... So I was set to just show up on Thursday morning when they opened and hope for the best.

Lucky for me, one of the professionals in our group in Frankfurt (I will call her Lyudmila) is Russian and trilingual and has visited the consulate before. She described the situation outside the consulate as having a gated area where everyone just crowds together. A guy comes out and speaks in Russian, and you essentially have to push your way to the front and yell out (in Russian) that you are there for a visa and then perhaps he'll let you through the gate. This did not sound very promising for a non-Russian speaker and someone who is generally not physically assertive in crowd situations. Fortunately, though, Lyudmila took pity on me and agreed to go with me the following morning.

The situation was exactly as she described it. She positioned us outside the gated area near the exit door in the wrought iron gate, and when the guy came out she called out about the visa and he let us in the exit. Just like that. We then headed to the visa area, waited a relatively short period, gave the guy my paperwork, he had us go to the cashier to pay the fee, and then he gave us some sort of a receipt and said that maybe the visa would be ready the following Tuesday. Maybe.

The upside of this is that I suddenly had an extra weekend in Frankfurt, though this was less appealing since I no longer had an apartment with furniture in it. The downside, of course, is that there was still no certainty on when I would be able to go to Russia, not to mention that I was supposed to be out-of-town in meetings Tuesday afternoon through Thursday morning (yes, more traveling sans passport) and, oh yeah, Thursday morning was another Russian holiday and likely the consulate would also take Friday off. So if the visa wasn't available on Tuesday morning, I likely wouldn't be able to collect it until the following Monday unless they would accept someone else picking it up.

There is yet another additional twist to the process. The visa that I was applying for would get me back into Russia, but there was still the matter of getting the official work permit itself. So because the visa was premised on my getting said work permit, I needed to have an in-person meeting with the FMS (Federal Migration Service) within three business days of arriving. Which might be fine if I got the visa on Tuesday and could indeed fly to Russia on Friday. But if I had to wait until the following Monday to get the visa, there would not be time to get to Russia, have the meeting with the FMS, and then get to Amsterdam in time for meetings that were supposed to begin on Tuesday evening.

If you're confused by this point, you would not be alone. I felt like I was a pawn of some kind in a giant critical path chart with multiple activities that kept getting changed and the critical path was getting longer and longer by the day. Unpleasant.

Lyudmila and I were back at the consulate in Frankfurt at the crack of dawn (okay, shortly before it opened at 9 AM) on Tuesday. Same crowded gate scenario, though this time we did have to elbow our way to the front of the queue rather than being let in through the exit door. Miraculously, the visa was ready and I was able to fly to Russia on Friday.

Believe it or not, though, this long entry is far from the entire story. The saga of the related logistics is perhaps even longer and will be the source of future blogs, though they will hopefully be a little less boring!