Former Soviet Union Expat Thread

Coja Petrus Uscan

Crow
Orthodox Inquirer
Gold Member
The hysteria fronted by Klaus Schwab permitting, I will be in Russia in a number of days.

I'm am starting this thread as a commitment to engaging in interesting activities, documenting them on here with words and photos.

If anyone has any suggestions of places to visit. Post them below.
 

Coja Petrus Uscan

Crow
Orthodox Inquirer
Gold Member
Starting with a short write-up on a previous micro-visit to Moldova and Prednestrovie (a break-away region of Moldova).


Moldova is a very messy country. Drab buildings. Streets falling apart. There are beggars - probably gypsies. I saw one who had his lower arms removed, probably by his parents. As they do in India, to earn more money. I do not understand, but somehow this man had a cigarette attached to where his arm was removed and was smoking. It appeared to be floating by an invisible string. Another woman looked like she had been beaten up to earn more money. Her dimmed wailing hoped to stagger passers-by into a guilt-sticken furtle through their pockets. But most have probably seen her a-hundred times. So her small pot remained meager. Her patrons likely consist of the odd tourist.

I entered the city by taxi at night. Welcoming you is the sight of Las Vegas meets Chernobyl - two expansive apartment blocks parting before a sea of grey trees. Those who constructed them likely thought that this was the beginning or a bright new future, in which village people would swap the rustic for the manufactured.

161005160848-sm-28-city-gates-development-of-the-entrance-to-the-capital-from-the-airport-sidechisinau-moldovabuilt-in-80-sarchitects-yu-skvortsova-a-markovich-and-a-spasov-photo-stefan-rusu-bacu.jpg


In the center it looks like a normal Russian city, but once you leave the center there is a lot of litter. Even outside expensive apartments. Here you can see the hallmarks of modernity written on the faces of the young. These are the children of those who drive expensive black cars. Appearance suggests they are mostly Russian or Ukrainian, rather than Moldovan. They are taken by passion and experience. Thus, there is a lack reflection on one's behaviour. The girls move in a way I remember from school. In a way that is immersed in themselves. While the boys are much less masculine than those who live in Soviet apartment blocks.

In Moldova you can see many expensive cars, with flashy designs. It seems to be the case in such poor countries that those who are rich like to show it by buying such cars. It is the same in Ukraine and Albania. I have read Ukraine is considered the most materialistic place in Europe. But in Prednestrovie there are no such cars.

I stayed a few nights in a very large apartment with good furnishings. In other countries in Eastern European capitals I would expect to be paying $60 / night, but this was sub-$30. Unlike apartments in Russia and Ukraine, where the common stairs and corridors are never cleaned, these are cleaned. Next door was a luxury swimming pool, of the type I could imagine Bill Gates stewing in. It was $20 a pop. Yet to the rear there was a jumble of assorted odd houses and to the left a ghetto of slums that looked to be old laborers' cottages. To the front was a park, somewhat maintained, but with the abominable fog and industrial stacks in the background it only spoke of depression.

The cracked roads and fumbling pavements are generally not equipped with the underpasses you see in Russia and Ukraine. Thus, seeing people quickly making a dash across six lanes of fast-moving traffic is not uncommon. They may otherwise need to walk a mile or so to a stop-light. Unlike Moscow the underpasses are in bad condition. I walked each night at around 11-12 to a convenience store. This would take me past one of the few jewels in Chișinău's grey, the Ciuflea Monastery. Passing it I descended into one of the underpasses, sour with the smell of today's urine deposits. It was pitch-black, but for an interruption of light from one of the entrances. It was usually traversed by loud men, or women quickly sprinting through via the light of their Facebook interface.

Manastire-Ciuflea-Monastery-Chisinau.jpg


The people of the Soviet apartment blocks are different to those in the center. All young boys seem to look and act the same - somewhat aggressive. They are more like Romanians. The men seem to be more practical and physically capable. In Northern Europe most men cannot do practical things like change a plug. But here it is all they know. So they are more masculine, whereas Northern European are more feminine. Even in Moscow men are more feminine.

...
 
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Thirdworlder

Robin
Non-Christian
Visit arbat street in Moscow, the street has been in existence since the 15th century, it is also a kind of artists street..., the red square is also a tourist delight.
 

Coja Petrus Uscan

Crow
Orthodox Inquirer
Gold Member
It has been nigh on a year since I last knew the feeling of not being bridled. It has been so long that I don't remember if it was just outdoors or indoors. For the past six month I have been shuffling through the streets in up to 46 degrees Celsius, a mandatory textile bib shielding me from nothing, before I may take it off in an enclosed space to eat. All this in a country with one of the lowest COVID death counts.

As I awoke to my first day, it dawned, "Those people weren't wearing masks." I looked out of my window to survey a car park. The mask ratio was at about 1%. The previous night I had walked the streets without realising I was the only person wearing a mask.

Pensively I went out into the streets unbibbed and observed there were no masks in sight. I was told that Moscow and St. Petersburg were beginning to gear up, with QR code passports required to enter many places. The man from the hotel said otherwise. An occasional bib wearer could be sighted, but often elderly. As I descended into the bustling Okhotny Ryad shopping center, I masked, though did not see a requirement to on the door. Quickly I realised that virtually no one was wearing a mask. Some had masks over their lips only, others below their chin, but mostly nothing. To preserve dignity, I quietly adjusted myself to the normal state out of sight.

It seems some shops require masks and others not. A few times caught myself masked out in the open, so second-nature wearing a mask has become. But it is fairly apparent, if the secular authorities are not engaged in COVID hysteria, people will not care less.

Breathing freely in public again was going well, until a raving homosexual blew a soap bubble in my face. Sometimes those things come in handy.
 

ScannerLIV

Woodpecker
It has been nigh on a year since I last knew the feeling of not being bridled. It has been so long that I don't remember if it was just outdoors or indoors. For the past six month I have been shuffling through the streets in up to 46 degrees Celsius, a mandatory textile bib shielding me from nothing, before I may take it off in an enclosed space to eat. All this in a country with one of the lowest COVID death counts.

As I awoke to my first day, it dawned, "Those people weren't wearing masks." I looked out of my window to survey a car park. The mask ratio was at about 1%. The previous night I had walked the streets without realising I was the only person wearing a mask.

Pensively I went out into the streets unbibbed and observed there were no masks in sight. I was told that Moscow and St. Petersburg were beginning to gear up, with QR code passports required to enter many places. The man from the hotel said otherwise. An occasional bib wearer could be sighted, but often elderly. As I descended into the bustling Okhotny Ryad shopping center, I masked, though did not see a requirement to on the door. Quickly I realised that virtually no one was wearing a mask. Some had masks over their lips only, others below their chin, but mostly nothing. To preserve dignity, I quietly adjusted myself to the normal state out of sight.

It seems some shops require masks and others not. A few times caught myself masked out in the open, so second-nature wearing a mask has become. But it is fairly apparent, if the secular authorities are not engaged in COVID hysteria, people will not care less.

Breathing freely in public again was going well, until a raving homosexual blew a soap bubble in my face. Sometimes those things come in handy.
This post made me laugh.

I wish you the best of luck on your novel writing endeavors.
 
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