Streets paved with gold

Sometimes you smell a rat, it can be because you find a person suspicious or a situation suspicious, I have met and smelt many rats in my life. In Russia, there are also rats that smell, some real and some imagined. There are also rats that smell in the United Kingdom and in other countries, however, these other rats vaguely try to hide their smell and themselves from public scrutiny. In the United Kingdom, we have rats within the government that cost the tax payer large sums of money on yearly basis due to idiotic contracts, suspicious business deals and extravagant expense claims. Russia is not so unusual but Russia is bolder than other countries. Comment has to be made.

Pavements (otherwise known as 'sidewalks' thanks to the Americans) are our metaphorical rat here in Moscow Russia. The city has a new mayor. His wife 'allegedly' has/had links with a brick company and now by pure chance, luck, fate or successful business tender, the city is undergoing a massive pavement renewal project. The streets are being repaved. Can you feel your nose twitching?. These pavements will need millions of bricks. The tarmac (asphalt) is being dug up and grey bricks are being put down.

This information and story is not new or from my own hand, it is already in the foreign press (see below). It was reported in the Moscow News. However, when I heard that the mayors wife has/had 'alleged' links to a brick company and I saw the pavements being redone, my nose went up in the air, like a bloodhound after a fox. I do some business at private communities here in Moscow. These communities are the Beverly Hills of Russia. Huge gated communities with high fences and security cameras everywhere, you can smell the money and smell the rats. Huge palaces that look like movie sets from French historical classics are springing up within these gated communities. I doubt very much that many of these houses were funded and paid for by legitimate money, via legitimate business profit. I suspect a new large house will very soon be erected at an unknown location, somewhere in Russia or in another country. Perhaps it is being built right now?

I saw exactly the same situation in Slovakia and with their city pavements. The pavements are brick. One day they were laid and the workers did a good job and it looked very smart, then the next year the street was dug up for new cables. The bricks were taken up and badly relaid , then the next year the street was dug up again, this time for water pipes and badly relaid. By the third year, the pavements looked so untidy and full of missing bricks that it was dangerous to walk on. A perpetual cycle of moronic city planning. Bad city planning goes on everywhere nowadays because no one wants to take responsibility and communication between departments is bad to non existent. A contract is 'won' not always based on logic, ability or cost efficiency.

Russia is colder than Slovakia, with few if any parking laws, huge heavy cars park on the pavements, the winters are still freezing, weight and ice do not go well on oven cast bricks. I am sure pipes and cables will need to be laid when a new businessman 'wins'  by 'tender' to provide water pipes or fibre optic cables to offices in the Moscow streets. These new bricks in Moscow will need to be dug up and relaid and this pattern will continue, year after year, when I am long gone until the pavements look awful and new 'person', 'wins' a new contract to relay the pavements again in Moscow. In short, it is an endless cycle of money exchanging hands and filling pockets, to build a new palaces, in some private gated community or in a foreign country far way from nosy public eyes.

Of course, the brick supplier whoever he or she is, can never be proved to be the mayors wife or linked to him or her in any way, this is only an imaginary rat and an 'alleged' opinion as suggested by popular media gossip.

These rats, make the world go round, some get rich but most get by. That's life. Its not what you know but who you know and this applies to all of us in every country throughout the world. We should not be bitter or jealous but just have good connections, be in the right place at the right time and have the arrogant nerve, audacity and luck to pave our own streets with gold.

Further reading on this see:
- Moscow crazy paving scandle, The Moscow News, Lidia Okorokova 07/07/2011
- The Moscow sidewalk shuffle, The Moscow News, Tim Wall 07/07/2011
- Moscow Mayor
- Sidewalk replacement

Mushroom hunting

This weekend, we went mushroom hunting for Russian mushrooms since we are in Russia. The mushrooms didn't have names like Igor or Vladimir but had names that I cannot remember and were probably in Latin since all plants and are in Latin.  We went with a Russian friend not a 'fungi' but a fun girl. She knows her mushrooms as well as I know my beer types. It has been very hot and humid in and around Moscow so heading into a cool forest to pick mushrooms on a hot day is a welcome break from the relentless heat.

We all followed our friend into the forest, in a region local to Moscow called Serpkhov about two hours from Moscow. The forest was shaded and beautiful. I never grow tired of seeing Silver birch trees. They are beautiful trees and grow all over Russia. The light dances on the tree bark, lighting the trees up like candles. Our friend Natalia, led us winding through the trees. My kid followed her excitedly carrying a basket that was far to big for him as we followed her instructions on which type of mushrooms to look for and to pick. Natalia told us not to pick them by hand, as she would cut them with her mushroom knife at the base near the ground, so that they would grow back again for future picking by her and by others. Responsible social harvesting. At first, I felt bored and a little nervous of picking wild mushroom but looking for them became exciting, like looking for hidden treasure. This hunting for the correct type of mushroom was a lot of fun and whenever we found the right one it was like finding gold in the forest or when someone lands on your square on a board game or at least it was for me and my kid.

There were many types of mushroom, yellow ones, red ones, purple ones and white ones. Natalia told us to only get the white ones. Whenever we found one, we cried out 'Natalia' and she would reply "coming" and would get her little mushroom knife out and put a mushroom into the wicker basket. I always planned to go mushroom picking in Slovakia but never had the time or the energy. This custom of collecting mushrooms from the forest, seems to be an Eastern European tradition. I don't know if it originates from necessity during Socialist times or if it is a family tradition? It is however a nice tradition and great fun for everyone. We filled two baskets and went home, on our way home we saw a group of young Russians carrying beer bottles and wine which made me depressed as I knew they would probably dump their bottles in the forest to add to all the others that people selfishly leave behind in nature that start fires and harm wildlife. When we arrived back at the cottage, Natalia told us to soak them in water for an hour, let them dry and fry them with onions. They became yellow after soaking and shrank, so if you pick mushrooms, pick lots to make it a worth while meal.

We soaked them for two hours, just to be safe and I cooked them with freshly picked marrow from Natalia's garden, fried tomatoes and four eggs. I mixed the egg with creme fresh and added salt and fresh pepper making two tasty omelets. To be honest dear reader, the mushrooms mostly tasted like any mushroom but had a woody earthy taste that made them less dull than a supermarket mushroom, the taste is not the objective, collecting them and having a fun time is.

I don't recommend ever picking any mushrooms in any forest, in any country, alone or without an expert with you. Mushrooms, can make you very sick or even kill you. Only ever pick them with a person you can trust and who knows their mushrooms very well. Wash them carefully and fry them in an omelet or put them in a tasty soup.

This site may help as guide to safety but never eat anything wild unless you are absolutely sure it is safe.




© All Rights Reserved.

My mother-in-law has moved in!

These last few months I have had a Russian nanny looking after my child. So far, I have avoided paying anyone to look after my kid. Partly out of a resentment to be like every other expat in Moscow and partly out of a mistrust and an urge to save money. We have had a few girls from the Philippines. These girls have just sat on the sofa sending messages to their friends or watched TV, while junior has played on his own. They have put him to bed in a wet nappy and in socks. He did not complain how could he?

Naturally, my trust of nannies has been slightly abused. We finally hired a Russian woman to look after our kid. We did not interview other women, only her and I found her via a contact here in Moscow. She came to our flat and showed us lots of photos of kids at an orphanage where she worked and she looked honest. How can you turn down a woman who worked at an orphanage? The image of lambs and fluffiness comes to mind. We hired her on the spot. On her first day, I asked her for her passport and she looked slightly bemused at my request. I scanned a copy of her passport just in-case she came from an international child selling gang. You never know who you let into your home what ever the country you live in. Russia is certainly no exception and I believe in absolute caution when it comes to these things. I would ask the Pope for his passport if he were to look after my kid and with the recent scandals, I think I would be justified.

At first, she did as I asked, we communicate in Russian. I asked her not to take junior outside in the street unless he is strapped in his pushchair (stroller), I showed her where to take him for walks and asked her to play with him and told her what to feed him. I told her when he sleeps and for how long. Then after about a week, she began to make small comments to my wife and to leave long notes for her written in Russian about what my kid had done and what we should do with him. One day, I returned home and he was still sleeping at 3.00 pm in the afternoon, I told her he must wake up at 2.30 pm or he will not sleep at night. Her reply was let him wake up when he wants to. Then she began taking him for walks in the busy streets holding him by the hand and taking him to church. She is religious and gives all her pay to the church. One day, when my wife was home, I snapped and my wife translated my anger to her as the three of us stood in the living room of my Moscow flat. Mrs Doubtfire (the nanny) bluntly told me, if I don't like her or let her do what she likes with my kid, she will leave us. I felt as if I was talking to my mother-in-law, a mother-in-law from hell although this woman is not my mother-in-law and thank god for that. I call her 'Mrs Doubtfire' as like the movie character, she has a bossiness about her that is slightly intimidating, she has a strict housekeeper, nun like way about her. I guess I must be mentally scared by experiencing too many bossy women in my past.

It's funny how women often stick together and have an unspoken silence between them when they agree with each other, it's a kind of female mental telepathy. My wife stood there next to Mrs Doubtfire with her arms tightly crossed and said 'you worry too much and must trust her'. I half expected to see Mrs Doubtfire move in the next day. The two of them looked like nuns from the convent of immaculate conception and I felt like a small boy waiting for a beating before Sunday mass.

The other day, I came home with a big watermelon from a local supermarket. In the kitchen, Mrs Doubtfire looked at me sternly and snatched it away from me and told me not to give it to my wife or son. She then phoned my wife and told her it could be from China and is not safe to eat. I could feel steam coming from my ears, I went into the bathroom and bit my fist in a silent scream. I ate all the watermelon they did not have any. I have not turned Chinese and I have not been poisoned.

The woman scares me but despite her bossy, nun like 'I know best' attitude, she is good with junior. She paints pictures with him, draws with him, plays games and talks to him. I hope she does not turn him to religion too much. As I said, she gives all her pay to the church so she obviously has a good heart or she is clinically insane. She is flexible and very reliable. I must bite my tongue and say nothing, even though she annoys me, I think she can be trusted.

A good nanny and a good woman are hard to find when it comes to finding a person that you can trust with a child. Mrs Doubtfire is here to stay, I can't win this battle. One point to her, zero points to me. I have looked after my kid since he was six months old, I suppose it's time to take a back seat and have greater trust in others.

© All Rights Reserved.