April 17, 1999
The Weather
O.K., no politics today. I figure it's time to give Kosovo a break. There are enough talking heads out there babbling on left and right about it that it's time to give my mouth a rest. So I decided this week to go back to some life in Russia stuff. But, to tell you the truth, I'm drawing a blank about what to write this week, so I'm reverting to that old, cliched stand-by, the weather.
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'Frosts so cold you could spit at someone and not only would he be offended, he would also get hurt because the spit would turn to ice on the way." - Evgeny Popov
'Merry Making in Old Russia'
Here's something about living in Russia in the winter. I was talking a while back to a fellow teacher with a degree in geography. She was saying how it gets to a certain point where it's too cold to snow. When it's -5 (Celsius) or such the snow can come in big flakes. A little colder, it comes in smaller flakes. And when it hits -15 or so it's just too cold to snow! The moisture is just frozen in the clouds or something. Of course, she explained it a lot better than this, but the point still remains. Now those of you who live in colder climates may be used to this, but to this Southern California boy it's something new. Back home, when it snows, and that's just in the mountains, it means it's damn cold. But in the winter in Russia, when it snows it actually means it's getting warmer! A day with snow means a couple less layers of clothing. Now dig that.
But y'know, one of my favorite things about living in a sub-zero climate is the frozen spit on the street. But I saw something that tops even that! Frozen vomit! All red and noodly. Nice. How would you like to slip and break a hip on some frozen vomit?
It gets so cold that the snot in your nose freezes. The moisture in the air freezes, so the air sparkles in the light of the day. The wind makes you eyes tear up, but then the tears freeze on your face.
But now spring has come to Moscow, and I must say it's really disconcerting. Yesterday I got off the Metro where the wife works, and I didn't even recognize where I was, no snowdrifts, no icy sidewalks, no bracing cold. It took me a minute or so to orient myself, to recognize the landmarks and find her school. When I was in the hospital, I noticed that the snow was starting to melt away outside, and I figured that winter was over. But, of course, the day after I got out, it started snowing again, in late March. And then there was a couple of weeks of rain, when the combination of rain and snow piled five-feet high along the roads turned everything into a lake or a mud pit. But slowly but surely, things are drying up. No longer do I have to wear two pairs of long underwear. No longer do I have to wrap my face up in a scarf, with my hat pulled down so low that only my eyes are exposed to the elements.
Today it's 20 Celsius, the warmest it's been since October. It feels like summer. I'm not even wearing a jacket today. When November hit, the temperature dropped down to -30. It was incredible. I had never experienced anything like that in my life. But now, when it's 10 - 15, I feel like wearing shorts and going swimming, and back home I would be to cold to go out.
This summer I will be back in California, back in the 100 degree (Fahrenheit now, after all, it's America) blistering heat. And I can just imagine how much hotter it's going to feel that usual. But today, it's such a nice day out, I don't feel like sitting on the computer all day, so I'll end it there.
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Announcing something new on the Budget Press web site! Actually, it's something old that I screwed up, but now it's back. It's a little photo essay called The Budget Press Story. Here all you're questions about Budget Press, such as How? Why? What does this johnnie b. baker guy look like? will be answered. If you've got enough patience to wait as the pictures download, check it out - http://members.tripod.com/johnniebbaker/story.html
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And now, on to the letters…
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I've just finished reading another interesting budget file and was especially intrigued to hear of your Russian hospital experience. It brought to mind a story I heard when I was in Kiev (end of 1992) and we took a trip up to St. Petersburg and met up with some other English students there. You may be aware that the water is notoriously full of harmful organisms up there and one is strongly advised not to drink it or even use it to brush your teeth. Obviously, if you're there for a short stay you have to be quite unlucky to catch what I'm told can be an extremely nasty spell of the runs but if you're in the town for a whole year as our friends were it's almost inevitable that you will end up with it however careful you are. Therefore by the time we visited nearly everyone had been laid up for a few days (within dashing distance of the smallest room, of course). One guy got it worse than the others and ended up in hospital for a few days. When the doctors came to see him they noticed a slight swelling in his stomach and decided on this evidence that he had appendicitis and so would have to go in for an operation. The poor guy wasn't too happy about the situation but decided the doctors knew best. Anyway, due to weakness etc. he hadn't been for a leak for over a day at this stage and so was pretty desperate to go before the operation. When he came back the swelling had miraculously disappeared and it was decided that he didn't need the operation after all!
Ben Vincent
England
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I don't have time for drivel like this. Your writing is poor and your politics are simple. I don't need this 27K note wasting my email space.
Adios,
Jim Jobe
One Dog Press
Reply - Well, I thought about getting rude and all that, but changed my mind. Every once in awhile it's good to get something like this, keeps you grounded, y'know. I guess, as the saying goes, you can't please all the people all the time.
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Until next time …
#15
April 23, 1999
A Night Out
I had heard that Russian women could be a little forward, but being married and not much of a club hopper, I had yet to experience this first hand. But the other day a friend of ours invited us out to a club with some Russian friends of his. The joint was cool, the band hip, and we drank quite a bit of beer and some 25 proof fortified Georgian wine. I was getting kinda loopy, and as my legs were getting tired I left the dance floor and sat down.
Suddenly, this gorgeous Russian girl, early twenties, dressed in black, stylin’, sits next to me and says something in Russian, too fast for me to understand. ‘I don’t understand’ I say in Russian, at which she snatches the beer out of my hand, puts it on the table, grabs me by the arm and pulls me on to the dance floor. I look around for my wife, and notice that she is dancing with some guy. Oh well, I guess its o.k. for me to dance.
She immediately pulls me extremely close, wraps my hands around her, and leads. I mean damn close, I could hardly breathe. I didn’t know where to put my hands, so I put them on her small waist. Now, in a former life, I would have been thanking heaven, I mean this girl was hella fine. And there was no awkward getting to know each other; it was immediately heavy petting on the dance floor. But all I could think of, though, was how I was going to extricate myself from her clutches.
‘Ne Russki?’ she asks me.
‘Ya Americanyets’ I tell her.
‘’Oh! What do you do in Russia?’ she asks me in passable English.
‘I’m an English teacher.’
‘Oh! Good for me! Where do you live?’
‘In Tyshino’ (a district of Moscow).
‘Oh! Good for me!’ she says.
I think of putting my hands on her butt, which I just know will be firm and fine, but then that will just make it harder for me to get away, which I must. I notice Carolyn, my wife (by the way, she is tired of me calling her ‘the wife’) looking at me, dancing at a distance from her partner. I look at her with panicked eyes, and she laughs. The song ends, and she just walks by. I grab her and pull her near. ‘Maya Zhena!’ I say to the Russian girl. She pulls away and says to Carolyn ‘This is your husband?’ Carolyn says yes. ‘I hope you are very happy’ she says, and walks away. I was relieved, but in the back of my head I couldn’t stop thinking ‘In a former life…’
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Last week presidential elections were held in Algeria. In 1992, the first multi-party parliamentary elections in Algeria’s post-colonial history were supposed to be held, but when it became obvious that the Islamists were going to win, the army stepped in, and cancelled the elections. Since then the country has been in a state of war that has claimed over 70,000 lives. It was hoped that these elections (which the Islamists were prohibited from participating in), with seven people running for president, would help the county return to a more stable situation. But 48 hours before the elections, six of the seven candidates withdrew from the election, claiming that there were irregularities and vote rigging in the early voting coming from army bases. They stated that the army was making sure that their candidate, Abdelaziz Bouteflika, was going to win. Of course, the Army denied it was playing favorites. The election went ahead, and being the only candidate, Boutefilka won. The other candidates have said the elections were a fraud, and have called for demonstrations and protests. I asked an Algerian friend of mine who now lives in California, Saida Baazizi, to tell us about what she thought of what was going on in her country.
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Emotionally troubled by my brother's last e-mail, this is what I'm able to write this morning:
"LES ELECTIONS ONT EU LIEU JE NE SAIS PAS CE QUI VA SE PASSER MAINTENANT CAR UNE MARCHE DOIT AVOIR LIEU DANS PEU DE TEMPS… WE'RE GONNA SEE" These are the words of my brother who lives in Algeria. He is telling me that a march is about to take place very soon and that he doesn't know what will happen. He is not the only one who has doubts about his future; he is not the only one who would like to leave the country, but stays because of his courage. I admire that about him. He came to the US, but decided to go back to Algeria, for there are things to be done over there and that if the youth decide to leave, what will happen to this country that is predominantly populated by youth? Surprises: that's all I can say about our election processes. Who would have thought that, in 1991, President Chadli Benjdid's resignation would have triggered a ferocious civil war? Who would have thought that after being elected, President Boudiaf would be assassinated? Who would have thought…? Who would have thought that there would be six candidates that would withdraw their candidacy barely 48 hours before the elections leaving Bouteflika alone? This is to tell you that no political expert can predict the future of Algeria, for it is (to borrow my brother's expression) suffed with surprises. Although this is the worst time that Algeria is facing since its independence from France, I believe firmly that the nightmare is about to end. People are tired of instability, particularly the Algerian youth...and I never forget that youth is FIRE, the best source of energy.
I HAVE to be optimistic. You should see the people in Algeria. Despite the killings and the very expensive cost of life, they are so funny and have the best attitude, the fuel being optimism, we have to be. It might not (in fact, it will not) be an overnight metamorphosis; it will take time. But we will stand on our feet some day.
Saida Baazizi
San Bernardino, CA
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So, how many of you remember my poem ‘Damn Hank’ from Budget File #9? Well, my man Raindog has published it in The Lummox Sampler, part of his LRB (Little Red Book) series. It's available for $5 + $1 postage (free to prisoners). I encourage everybody to order a copy from LUMMOX PO Box 5301 San Pedro, CA 90733-5301 USA. Check out his web site at http://home.earthlink.net/~lumoxraindog.
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Okay, I was bored on my computer at work the other day, and stumbled upon this survey thing-a-ma-jig. So go to The Budget Files homepage http://members.tripod.com/johnniebbaker/foolish/file.html and take my highly scientific opinion poll concerning this weeks Budget File. The results will appear in the next File.
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And now, on to the letters, all in reply to Jim Jobe’s thoughts about my literary merits, and the lack thereof…
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Who the hell is Jim Jobe? Some people should not be allowed to live on this earth let alone open their mouth. Letters like his really tick me off. However....don't pay attention..
Anesa
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Johnnie B
I chuckled when I saw the note from James Jobe (whom I've actually met!) and nodded about your reply. Both sides of the coin are valid, as one who gets lots of unsolicited email and junk email (junkie-mail?). Wading thru piles of verbiage about things that are not that interesting can be really tedious…But the other side, your side is just as important because it affords all us "arm-chair world citizens" to get a different perspective on things over there. The non-standard party-line. Both sides are important to respect. As always, it's difficult to 'keep all the plates spinning'.
RD
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Johnnie,
I've been on the short end of some of these. You can't let 'em get to ya!
Scott Holstad
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JB,
Granted, an in depth discussion of the weather may not be the most insightful piece of prose you've yet offered...but as for Jim "One Dog" Jobe, all I can say is opinions are like assholes. When I hear one, it usually stinks. Keep on keepin on.
ST
Reply-
Does that include my opinions? Or yours?
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Until next time…
Budget Files
