So I spent the 4th of July, as many of you may know, sitting in a German cafe on the old Arbat, drinking Czech beer, and reading portions of Marx's Das Kapital. I'm trying (in my spare time) to work on 2 courses that I am teaching in this upcoming Fall semester and Marx will undoubtedly take up quite a bit of time in each. It seemed an odd way to spend the 4th of July but since the American Embassy never sent me an invitation to their annual party, it was the best that I could do.
However, I would like to offer some kind words about the waiter who served me at this particular German cafe, the Postmeister. I have heard people complain about service in Russian restaurants before, and I am sure I have even been one of those persons - the service is different, the waiters and waitresses tend to leave you alone and very rarely will they come back to your table and ask you if everything is O.K. or if you need anything else, you have to ask for you check, etc. For Americans this can be frustrating because we tend to go out to eat to do just that - eat. When we are done, we leave. However, here one goes out to eat not just for the food, but also for the experience. If you want to linger at your table after you have finished your meal, it is perfectly acceptable. No one will run you off so as to make more money on the person waiting for your table. It is really a nice concept, especially if you want to sit with a coffee or a beer, or even a glass of wine, and read a book.
But, on to Eduard, my waiter. I looked at the menu and was very happy to see that they had potato salad. After all it was the 4th of July and in my family that simply requires German potato salad (not the awful Americanized version with mayonnaise and mustard either). So I happily ordered my potato salad and tried to order a Harp, as it was on the menu. Eduard told me that they did not have it and in fact did not have any of the bottled beers listed on the menu. The only beer they had was draft and on the menu there was no indication of they type of beer that each one was or where it came from. I asked him to bring me something good and dark and he returned with a wonderful double-bock from the Czech Republic. I had two. After the beers and the potato salad I decided it was time to leave and requested my check. Since it came back about 50 rubles over what I had in cash, I decided to pay by credit card, which is a normal practice for restaurants in the Arbat area. Upon seeing my card Eduard replied that they did not take credit cards. It was, or at least it could have been, quite a conundrum. But Eduard calmly responded that there was an ATM around the corner and that I could just come back, which I did. I also left him a very nice tip for his understanding and trust that I would return. It reminded me of a time when Grant & I went to a local restaurant and neither one of us had a wallet. The wait staff insisted that one of us remain at the restaurant for fear that we were trying to run off without paying. Clearly, Eduard had a different idea.
On to my recent archive adventures, which are not nearly as positive. First off, I understand that I am an American and that as such I have certain ideas, based on my culture, of the way things should be done. I expect a certain amount of logic to processes and procedures, which again, I understand are based solely in my own culture. But sometimes the level of bureaucracy can get to a person, no matter how understanding you may try to be. For instance, requesting copies from a Russian archive can be a maddening experience, particularly if you try to follow what you consider to be logic. Where one would think it would be easiest for everyone involved to simply write down a particular set of pages using the number of the first page and then some type of arrow or dash (a dash would definitely seem likely as Russian authors love to use dashes) and the last page number, for instance 4 - 25, the Russian bureaucratic way says otherwise. You must write down the number of each page that you want separated by a comma - 1,2,3,4,5....... This results in a very unnecessarily long form with a great deal of writing upon it. It is a very good thing that the archivist I have been working with thinks my handwriting is nice!
Not to continue complaining, but then there is the matter of paying for the copies, which I will attempt to do tomorrow. To pay for copies you must go to a bank and fill out yet another form, stand in line, and tell the bank teller, with your form in hand, that you wish to pay for copies that you have requested from the archives. Then, with any luck, she will give you a receipt which you then take back to the archives so that they can make the copies for you. We'll see how that goes tomorrow......
On the library front, after speaking with 5 people, at least, it is now clear that the issues of Krokodil, a satirical journal from the Soviet period, that I wanted to look at are in the process of being restored and microfilmed. I was told to try back "later." It looks like I will have to go to the University of Miami after all since it is easier to get Krokodil there than it is here. Go figure! The other journals that I have been looking for might be in the music department of the library, but so far no one is really sure. Tomorrow I will go to the music section and check with the librarians there, that is if I am not totally dejected and frustrated after paying for my archive copies. I also hope to look at some manuscripts from the composers who were prominent in the 1950s - 1960s and who had much to do with the position of jazz in the Soviet Union.
I leave you with a picture of the Russian State Library, where I have been spending some of my time, and a picture of a graffiti wall dedicated to Viktor Tsoy on the Old Arbat. He was a very important rock musician in the late Soviet period who wrote some beautiful lyrics, but unfortunately he died relatively young in a car accident. Also posted is a picture of a Russian cat - because I am lonely and miss Zeus and Carlos. And last but not least is a picture of my room complete with clothes drying by the window, lest any of you mistakenly think that the life of an academic is luxurious :)
Russian State Library
Wall dedicated to Viktor Tsoy (his last name is in red & has a peace sign in the center)
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