Lessons learned from rocky iv.

"You said you were going to conquer new frontiers,
Go stick your bloody head in the jaws of the beast..." - Bloc Party

In Moscow, it is never possible to not be in Moscow. New York and London are chameleons, offering nuances and pockets secluded enough to either forget the urban sprawl, or so authentically diverse that you must rethink what city, even country, you are currently in. Even St. Petersburg has some of the ambiguous elegance of several European cities, a massive version of Prague, an exponential Budapest. Not Moscow. Moscow is a leviathan, an eternal presence that looms, not above you, but directly on top of you. Not always a crushing weight, but a presence undeniable.

This trip always had a sense of urgency for me. Not only because my time to do such drastic things is dwindling frightfully low, but also due to the precarious status of many of my destinations; if I couldn't see them in the next 5 years or so, they may not be around to. Angkor Wat is crumbling, Hiroshima's ghosts are fading (literally, we'll come to that in December), and I fear that Russia's politics, and thus its borders, are freezing back up once again.

This annoyance turns tragic when one gets to meet the Russian people themselves. I found almost all of them to be extremely friendly, if not equipped to be tourist-friendly, though nothing in Moscow is. Basically no signs (one in every 70? 80?) had an English translation, and outside of my hostel staff, in 3 days probably 5 people I came across spoke enough English to struggle through a small set of directions, or a lunch order. The usual reaction to hearing English was utter bewilderment. And this is the reason that I wanted Moscow to be not simply a destination during my travels, but the city to begin my time abroad.

Leading up to this trip, the standard reaction was "Oh my God, you're going to have the time of you're life/so much fun/an absolute blast." And I will, but I also somehow need to stretch a sizable but fixed amount of money across the span of 5 months, 30+ countries, and 3 continents, without taking any new money in during that entire time. To see everywhere I want to, to financially actually make it through to mid-December, this can't be a giant gluttonous pub crawl, or at least not a non-stop one. This lesson could not be absorbed in the tempting and familiar comfort of London, or the opulence of Paris. But rather Moscow. Whether it's baptism by fire, or the hazing of the expatriate, that tone of unfamiliarity had to be set. Not discomfort but the necessity to avoid the complacency that any comfort inevitably brings. And what better locale for such an aim than Moscow.

Relentless, unapologetic Moscow. The size alone will crush you. By fast rail without any stops, its diameter is 90 minutes in all directions before you even hit the suburbs. 156 metro stations latticed throughout its faceless, repetitive geography. There is actually little of major note to see there- the Kremlin and Red Square, and whatever much smaller attractions appeal to your personal idiosyncrasies. But the main draw, what made it more rewarding an experience than St. Petersburg, was the nearly-tangible atmosphere that is as omnipresent as the hammer & sickle is in its architecture (seriously, everywhere). You can see photos of the onion domes of St. Basil's, wikipedia the history and significance of the Kremlin, but you will never even begin to comprehend what Moscow means until you are enveloped in its bloodless grasp.

That sounds like a condemnation, certainly a hyperbole, but what other city can inspire even remotely that, simply by its existence. Simply by walking its streets.

------------------------

(post-script)
Walking these streets is what I did most of the time, and meandering around the gorgeous underground metro, taking in the sights of both the people and what the people themselves were seeing. Though I did so with my own soundtrack. Despite being several years old, and having heard it countless times in all ranges of moods, Bloc Party's Silent Alarm will now always be linked to Moscow for me, "Pioneers" and "Plans" especially. In truth, "Pioneers" will probably be my anthem for this voyage as a whole, but also perfectly encapsulates its audacious beginnings. Also, Regina Spektor's Soviet Kitsch was a beautiful accompaniment to the delicate grandeur that is Red Square at night, which was my farewell to the city. So if you browse the photos below, if at all possible, pull up those songs to go along with them.

Moscow:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2099609&id=35804394&l=d9ae5998c6

St. Petersburg:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2100146&id=35804394&l=a0efba73fc