Sometimes there are some very ‘funny’
(read upset) surprises that life brings to tourists. When I decided to take a
trip to a certain country (let’s call it country Z) I was told that in my
country (let’s call it country A)there is no embassy and I need to go to
country B to apply for visa and then return to my country A and wait for 2
weeks. After 2 weeks I would have to go again to take my visa and go to country
A to pack and then go to country C to the airport because the plane flies only
from country C. Just imagine trajectory and all my routes before getting to my
destination as a tourist!
Monday, March 30, 2015
Tuesday, March 24, 2015
My Morning (or My breakfast)
…The sausages were hissing in the frying
pan. The smell of sausages and eggs always reminds me of my Soviet childhood.
My father always said that he couldn’t imagine his breakfast without eggs as
well as lunch or dinner without meat. He was a typical Soviet Russian man who
enjoyed simple slow life and did his best to be a ‘real’ man. What did it mean
for him and other thousands of Soviet men?
Rule#1 –men never cry even if it hurts
very much either physically or mentally
Rule#2 –men prefer meat (as well as other
animal proteins like fish and eggs) to sweets. Sweets are only for girls.
Everything must have been eaten with
bread in order not to feel hungry soon again. It was the rule for everyone not
only boys.
Rule #3 –men should not take much care
about their appearance. All the decorations are only for girls.
Did you see that ideal men died with the
USSR collapse and we lost more than the country?
Tuesday, March 17, 2015
Happiest moment?
Do we have a lot of moments which can be
marked “happiest”? I doubt it because “happiest” is superlative form which
means it’s unique, the only one. Well, mine probably was “entering my
university.” “Why not delivering your baby?” – you would ask. Because I had
different feelings at that moment including “fear”. Since then I always have
“background” fear for my son. But the purely happiest moment was when I had no
worries. I chose my way long time before I finished school. But there are
always some obstacles which we need to overcome and I can say it was my first
victory, serious victory in this life.
Tuesday, March 10, 2015
One World Message
If I had a chance to tell the world only
message I would ask people to think less about money and luxury, to be simpler.
I guess this is more than 1 message but they are interconnected somehow. I
really admire the lives of people who enjoy natural beauty around us. What can
be more beautiful, more puzzling, more exciting? Probably nothing. Those people
have special light in their eyes. Difficult to explain what kind of but it
exists. Well, I think the message should be concise. So, this is the end.
Tuesday, March 3, 2015
Cat in the rain
(Author- Ernest
Hemingway)
There were only two Americans stopping at the hotel.
They did not know any of the people they passed on the stairs on their way to
and from their room. Their room was on the second floor facing the sea. It also
faced the public garden and the war monument. There were big palms and green
benches in the public garden.
In the good weather there was always an artist with his
easel[1].
Artists liked the way the palms grew and the bright colors of the hotels facing
the gardens and the sea.
Italians came from a long way off to look up at the war
monument. It was made of bronze and
glistened[2]
in the rain. It was raining. The rain dripped from the palm trees. Water stood
in pools on the gravel[3]
paths. The sea broke in a long line and slipped back down the beach to come up
and break again in a long time in the rain. The motor cars were gone from the
square by the war monument. Across the square in the doorway of the café a
waiter stood looking out at the empty square.
The American wife stood at the window looking out.
Outside right under their window a cat was crouched under one of the dripping
green tables. The cat was trying to make herself so compact that she would not
be dripped on.
‘I’m doing down and get that kitty,’ the American wife
said.
‘I’ll do it,’ her husband offered from the bed.
‘No, I’ll get it. The poor kitty out trying to keep dry
under a table.’
The husband went on reading, lying propped up[4]
with the two pillows at the foot of the bed.
‘Don’t get wet,’ he said.
The wife went downstairs and the hotel owner stoop up
and bowed to her as she passed the office. His desk was at the far end of the
office. He was an old man and very tall.
‘It’s raining,’ the wife said. She liked the hotel -
keeper.
‘Yes, yes Madam. Awful weather. It is very bad
weather.’
He stood behind his desk in the far end of the dim
room. The wife liked him. She liked the deadly serious was he received any
complaints. She liked his dignity. She liked the way he wanted to serve her.
She liked the way he felt about being a hotel-keeper. She liked his old, heavy
face and big hands.
Liking him she opened the door and looked out. It was
raining harder. A man in a rubber cape was crossing the empty square to the
café. The cat would be around to the right. Perhaps she could go along under
the eaves. As she stood in the doorway an umbrella opened behind her. It was
the maid who looked after their room.
‘You must not get wet,’ she smiled, speaking Italian.
Of course, the hotel-keeper had sent her.
With the maid holding the umbrella over her, she walked
along the gravel path until she was under their window. The table was there,
washed bright green in the rain, but the cat was gone. She was suddenly
disappointed. The maid looked up at her.
‘Have you lost something, Madam?’
‘There was a cat,’ said the American girl.
‘A cat?’ the maid laughed. ‘A cat in the rain?’
‘Yes,-’ she said, ‘under the table.’ Then, ‘Oh,I wanted
it so much. I wanted a kitty.’
‘Come, Madam,’ she said. ‘We must get back inside. You
will be wet.’
‘I suppose so,’ said the American girl.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)