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I apologize for the infrequent posting. Due to personal life stuff (unrelated to my stay here) and political news from America, I have been tired and a little down, especially when I have free time. So my blog is taking a hit. I've been feeling much better, though, so I'll do my best to post regularly again now.

Today, we went on an excursion to the old Tretyakov art gallery. I'll be honest--it was pretty boring. I just can't dig pre-20th century art. I understand why others do and I can see why it's good, but it's never been my thing. We took a guided tour, which made it worse, and it was led by an employee of the museum who spoke fine English but interjected a high-pitched "Yes?" into her speech about every 30 seconds. I started a count, but I stopped at 67, about halfway through the tour, because I was tired of paying attention. After the tour a few of us realized that there were rooms of early 20th c. art that she had totally skipped, and I'm glad we found them. Modern-era art is some of my favorite. I loved this piece by Filipp Malyavin (click for the whole thing):

There is a new Tretyakov elsewhere which houses avant-garde 20th and 21st c. art, but we won't be taking an excursion there as a group, so I'll have to make time to go one of these weekends.

After the museum, some of us went to a restaurant called Ёлки-Палки--which is pronounced Yolki-Palki. Yeah. It was aptly described by someone at the table as a Russian Cracker Barrel, although it's certainly more expensive. I ended up shelling out about $20, which is entirely normal for Moscow. It wasn't the food that got me, but the juice. I had two TINY TINY glasses of grapefruit juice which ended up costing me about $6. Unfortunately, just drinking water wouldn't have been much cheaper, as the water was 120 rubles ($4). You can't get tap water here (because you shouldn't drink the tap water), only bottled. This is probably why people drink so much beer here--it's cheaper than or comparable to anything else.

From Yolki-Palki we walked to a park that had been recommended to us by the woman who organizes our excursions. She said there was a very interesting sculpture there, and she was right. It's called "Children are the victims of adult vices" (click title for Wikipedia article) sculpted by Mikhail Shemyakin. I think its greatest value for foreigners is the insight it provides into the values of Russian society--though it was very controversial when it came out, according to Wikipedia, and so of course it's not representative of all Russians. Still, artists don't make art outside of society's influence.

Covering some impressive distance, all things considered, Darcy and I led the group over to a great little place Anya showed us on Sunday. It's called, I kid you not, Beard Papa's. It is a Japanese cream puff place. They sell only cream puffs (and not even much of a variety), and I only know it's Japanese because the women behind the counter say thank-you in Japanese and because Anya told us it is. Wikipedia, however, confirms this. But the thing is--the cream puffs are heavenly. They're not the little melon-ball-sized ones you get from the grocery store. I hate those, and the stuff inside is too light and weird. I won't try to describe how awesome the cream puffs from Beard Papa's are, but if you ever come to Moscow please do swing by metro station Kropotkinskaya (not the most attractive name, I know) and hit up this tiny, inexplicable little bakery. Their website indicates that there are about a billion in California and one on the Upper West Side in New York and some in other US locations, but it just wouldn't be the same as eating a really good cream puff at a Japanese bakery with an English name in Russia.

Before being introduced to Beard Papa's on Sunday, Darcy and I met Anya at Arbatskaya to head over to Old Arbat, a pedestrian-only street, where they were holding a Flash Mob event. People had been told to wear bright colors and blow bubbles starting at 2:00 in the afternoon. We didn't get there until 4, but man, people were still going strong. There weren't a ton of bubbles then, but the excitement included:

1. Young kids, maybe junior high- and high school-age, playing a traditional Russian game in a huge group
2. Girls and some guys carrying signs that said, "Free hugs!" and sometimes, "Kiss me!"
3. A guy doing yoga-like poses on his hands, feet, and head on top of broken glass. We left when he picked up a meter-long nail-like thing that he was apparently going to swallow.
4. A drum circle
5. A quartet of young woman, probably from the music academy, playing classical music
6. Hilarious costumes and skimpy clothing in celebration of the spring weather
7. People actually smiling, even laughing and screaming and singing and dancing

That last one is a big deal in a place like Moscow. Smiling for no reason in public, especially at complete strangers, is practically verboten. This morning when I was thinking of depressing things while waiting for our group to assemble in the metro station, our excursion guide looked at me and said, "You already look like real Russians!"

The whole Arbat experience felt like recharging.

Edited to add: Still loving my host family. Grisha just came in with a glass of freshly-made grapefruit juice.