29 January 2008

29 January 2008
Mark Twain
United States of America

Dear Mark,

I hate traveling…actually, let me rephrase that: I hate traveling with large amounts of baggage. I think that the only thing that causes me any kind of performance related stress is getting there-after that, it’s easy. As you know, I have relocated to Moscow for a couple of weeks and am writing you now from a hotel lobby. Packing for the journey was easy-I’m very efficient with packing-remembering all of my music was also fine. Getting to Moscow was another story…
So…I have my suitcase, my computer, and instruments. I decided, purely for ease, to only take my saxophone and flute. One reason was the weight and encumberance issue on my person. The other is the fact that Russian air carriers have cut the weight limit for carryon baggage in half: from 10K to 5K. Now, I traveled to Moscow by train, but I now have to prepare for this issue for later concerts by slightly adapting both my pieces and performance programs for only one or two instruments; possible, but annoying. Regardless, traveling anywhere with instruments is getting more and more difficult. The next time I tour, I’m taking a flute and a laptop…that’s it!…I’ll create a case for both that is light and small and not worry.

Anyways, I had to carry my suitcase, computer, and instruments from the apartment to the metro; then, had to get all of this on the metro, then out of the metro, then the walk in the cold and snow to the train station looking, and moving, like a pack mule…

The train ride was typical-over night coupe with 4 to a room-nobody smiled, nobody spoke-typical. Even if you try and make conversation or just even try and be friendly, you soon realize that it’s a losing endeavor.

If Saintpetersburgians are grim, Muscovites are downright rude and obnoxious. We, coming again from the train into and out of the metro with our belongings, were either almost run over by human traffic or at the very least snarled at-we were also refused when we asked directions-multiple times!-this is also a typical Muscovite reaction-if you don’t know where you’re going, it’s your own damn fault.

We arrived at the hotel to find out that our names were left off of the reservation list; we are staying here for a couple of nights because Margaret has a Fulbright seminar. Of course, it was OUR fault, even though we were in close contact with the powers that be. So, they begrudgingly got us a room, which was completely covered in beer and filth-at least they didn’t blame us entirely for this-so they reluctantly moved us again into a foam green cubicle which is their ‘standard’ room-mind you, this would make a Motel 6 look like the 4 Seasons, and this is supposedly a 3 star hotel…more like 3 strikes! The only cafes/dining for miles was in the hotel complex, and they (all 6!) were closed for cigarette breaks for 2-½ hours…so we waited to have coffee…it was after noon at this point and I was not as of yet happily caffeinated…

Speaking of which, the food here is absolutely atrocious…breakfast has been instant coffee, white bread with butter and a piece of processed ham, and…a choco-pie, which has been the highlight…lunch was a small improvement, it only took about 3 or 4 bites to know that what I was eating was fish, and that was purely because of the bones…

Well…it got a little better…Margaret has been at enjoying her Fulbright seminars while I have been locked up in the foam green cubicle writing a film score and finishing my email interview with Saxophone Journal-this has been fun-I am sent questions every day or so and answer in essay form. Give me leeway and I’ll pontificate for pages…really about anything, whether I know the answer or not…

A word about the Russian post…wow…it’s amazing what was sent to us and what actually has arrived…I was sent a film from Greece-it was supposed to be here in 10 days and was sent registered mail…it got here in 3-½ weeks…I took the slip that was left to the post office to pick it up, and…they couldn’t find it…REGISTERED MAIL, mind you…’leave the slip, we’ll call when we find it’, they said. Of course, the slip was my only documentation that I received anything, but they didn’t care…I knew that I would never hear from them again…but, in a few days, they found it…I went to the wrong window to ask for it in the first place, so of course they didn‘t have it…again, MY FAULT…

Anyways, thus begins my next couple of weeks in Moscow…it could get better…it could also get a lot worse…

Part of the adventure…

Until next time,

Demetrius