To begin, let’s get one thing clear: This trip was a miracle. It was truly a gift from God , and would not have been accomplished without direct Divine intervention at several points. Thanks, God!
I had been writing to several women. There was one woman in Moscow, however, that I found myself spending more and more time writing. We exchanged email at least twice each week, which lead to some interesting and prolonged conversions, that would not have been possible with snail mail. I even began calling her once or twice each week. I knew things were becoming serious when she said she knew I had other pen-friends, just how many were there? That’s when I realized it had been two months since I had written anyone else. I resolved to begin writing to the other women. On month later, I still had not written to any other woman!
I started dreaming about visiting her. Of course, I wanted to visit all the other women I had been writing to, partly because I felt an obligation to at least meet with them, and partly because a trip to Russia would be a once-in-a-lifetime event for me, and I wanted to see as much as I could. Just for fun, I started to plan different budgets: one for a trip all the way from Murmansk down to Odessa, one for a trip just to Moscow and St. Petersburg, and one for a trip to just Moscow. I also applied for a new passport "just in case."
This summer I had been doing short-term contract work – a month here, two months there. I began to pray to God that I would have a chance to fly to Russia in September or October. Elena told me she had begun praying for that, too. I believe that if you talk to God long enough, you’ll get a reply. (And of course, when you do get a reply, the only sensible thing to do is shriek and run in terror.) So I was not too surprised that, when talking to God about this, I began to get a reply. I began to get a definite feeling that I would be going to Russia at that time.
Let me tell you the significance of that time frame. When I had a job with bennies, I had promised myself in January that I would go to Russia in the Fall. I’d have vacation time saved up, and it would be a reward to myself for surviving my divorce. When I got laid off, I put that dream on the back burner, but still kept it warm. As my time with contract positions progressed, I realized that I needed a permanent job. If I was going to meet my child support obligations I would have to get a "real" job with benefits by October. So, if I was to go to Russia this year, it would have to be in late September or early October. Otherwise, I would have to wait at least a year before I would have the vacation time saved up.
As the end of August approached, I decided I would not be able to go. I still had this something telling me I would go, but I had to act on what I saw in my life. In early September I told Elena I would not be able to come. I cried myself to sleep that night.
The next night, I got a call from a company promoting a credit card. Although I didn’t qualify for a credit card, the sales representative mentioned they offer consolidation loan deals. I thought, why not? Since my ex had forced the bank to repossess the house, my big concern has been building up my credit rating. (Instead of just giving it back to them after the divorce, she operated on the theory that if her credit was going to be bad, why shouldn’t my credit also be bad?) I told them to go ahead and give me the most I could get, which could have been up to $10,000. I would pay off my debts, give the rest back to the company to lower the principle, and pay off this loan and improve my credit rating.
On Monday, Sept. 15 I interviewed for a job that felt good. On Tuesday, I got a call from the credit company. Now that I’ve lived in my apartment a year, it appears that my credit is very good except for the one blemish because of the foreclosure. Could I explain that? I explained it, she said she’d call back, and in an hour I was approved for $5000. (As a side note, because Iowa has an equal credit law, both my ex-wife and I kept the same credit rating after the divorce as we did when we were married. If my ex had given the house back to the bank, we would not have that blemish, and her credit would still be good. However, with the foreclosure, HER credit rating was hurt because she was in school. Because I’ve been working, my credit rating was not. Another case of her shooting herself in the foot aiming for someone else.) The account would be opened by Friday, and the money would be squirted into my checking account.
As I hung up the phone, it struck me – after paying off my big debts, what would be left over would be just what I had budgeted to go to just Moscow! I was going to Moscow! I was going to Moscow real soon! In fact, if I was going to go, I would have to go a week from tomorrow. I had one week to make all the arrangements.
Here is where the Hand of God really started stirring the teapot. I checked airline prices on the web – discounters, consolidators, etc. The best price was through TraVelocity: Aeroflot round-trip, O’Hare to Moscow, $771.45. The price would be good until Friday, so I have until then to decide if I’m really going or not. Right now, the big question was whether or not I would be offered a job. I’m on unemployment, which means I must accept the first reasonable job offer. If the company doesn’t want to wait until I come back from Moscow, then I don’t go to Moscow.
The next day, Wednesday, I had another job interview that I finished at 1:00. By 5:00, they have offered me a job. During the interview, I explained that I may have a chance to go to Moscow; if I did go I would not be able to begin work until Oct. 2nd. They were disappointed but everyone at the interview thought this is a great opportunity and they’re willing to hold the job for me. So now I’ll have a job when I come back!
I double-checked the process of getting a visa. Whoops. I need a reservation at a hotel. I did some quick checks on the internet and sent out several requests along with a few prayers. If they don’t send something back by tomorrow, I won’t be going. Hotel Ukraina is the first to come back, and as it turned out, the least expensive: $71/night. I got the fax reply with the reservation, got photos, filled out the visa application, and got overnight delivery from the US Post Office – the package was sent out just 5 minutes before the office closed. Now I just have to wait. I’m so confident I use my almost-maxed credit card to reserve the flight.
The weekend rolled around – the money isn’t in my account. Monday comes and goes – my visa arrives, I get a letter from the hotel threatening to cancel my reservation if I don’t wire the full amount for my room, but no money. Tuesday afternoon, in a panic, I called the customer service number for the credit company. It turned out that, while my account was set up on Friday, no money had been added to it, and probably wouldn’t be for another 2 - 3 weeks.
After spending half an hour throwing a tantrum, I said some prayers and called my credit card company. Can I have an emergency raise on my credit limit? After talking with a very nice man with the credit department, I got the raise. It’s enough to give me a cash advance and to pay for most of the plane ticket. That night, I went to Sears and ran up a hefty charge – new luggage (two carry-on pieces), some gifts, a new camera and film, etc. I took it all back to the apartment and started packing. When I finished that, I finished working on the dress I’m making for Elena. (Yes, I sew. It’s been a useful hobby for about 15 years. You could call me a tailor; I prefer to think of myself as a member of the Seamster’s Union...) Finally, at 3:00 AM I crawled into bed.
Wednesday morning: I woke up and realized TODAY I’M FLYING TO MOSCOW! I stopped mail delivery, went to the bank for my cash advance, then went to my travel agency to pick up my tickets.
Uh, oh, problem. I had planned to pay for the tickets with part credit card and part slightly elastic check. But because of the way I made my reservation, it must be paid ENTIRELY by credit card. Thanks to my cash advance, that is no longer possible by about $175. I waited in the office while the agent kept trying to get the situation resolved. At one point she was saying on the phone, "...please do not put me on hold. This gentleman needs to leave the country today!" Great. Now people think I’m a fleeing criminal. At that, we both laughed, and she asked me to come back in about half an hour.
I went home to finish packing and finish picking up the place. I need to leave by 12:30 if I am to get to O’Hare in time for my 6:00PM flight. At 11:45 I called and asked if my tickets are ready. YES! I said goodbye to my cat, made sure everything was turned off, said goodbye to my cat again, and ran out the door. At 1:00 I’m on the road to O’Hare. I got there at 5:15, checked in at 5:30, and bought some stuff at the duty-free shop. This stuff almost doesn’t make it to me. At O’Hare, when you buy stuff at the duty-free store, you don’t take it with you. It gets taken to a special place on the other side of the metal detectors, delivered there by aged Chinese gentlemen taking very small steps. Several other passengers and I didn’t get our purchases until well after they had already made the final boarding call.
It is only now, that I am sitting in my window seat waiting for the plane to take off, that I truly believe I’m actually going. Up until then, with one problem or another, there was always the possibility that I wouldn’t make it. I’d like to relax, but I’m too excited!
Aeroflot is much different than any American airline I’ve used. This flight made a stop at Shannon, so the plane was packed with Irish. The food was the best airline food I have ever had. There were no Heather Locklear look-alikes in the stewardesses, but one steward looked like David Duchovney. And the in-flight movies were something else. There was a Brooke Shields movie. I was looking forward to hearing her speak Russian. Instead, there was a Russian guy reading the movie dialogs in Russian. It was the reverse with the Russian films (i.e., he’s reading all the dialogs in English). All of the Russian films seemed to date from Stalin’s time. Since the narrator is reading both the male and female parts, it can be a little confusing as to who is saying what.
We had an hour stayover at Shannon that grew to 2 hours due to the fog. This time the flight was filled with every possible Aeroflot crew from the past month, all heading home. Again, an excellent meal. I greatly amused the stewardess when I tried to use my Russian on her to order tea. An hour out of Moscow I took my bag to the restroom, shaved, changed, and made myself presentable. Then I sat at my seat and waited for my first view of Russia. It was overcast, so all I had was a wonderful view of the clouds. But they were Russian clouds, by God! As we made our final approach to Sheretmyevo, we broke through the clouds.
If you read Science Fiction, you’ll know that every author comes to a point where they try to give a feel for the alien planet. It may be something as blatant as red trees or as subtle as rabbits that turn out to be carnivorous. The best authors can describe a scene in a way that makes you feel how alien a planet is, and can describe a land that is almost like home except for one small detail that lets you know how truly far away from home you are. I felt a lot of that distance from home while looking at the ground. There were villages that looked like Iowa villages, surrounded by forests. (Forests? Toto, I don’t think we’re in Iowa anymore.) In the distance I saw smokestacks half a kilometer high belching smoke. (Smokestacks? Now I know we’re not in Iowa!)
As we approached the ground, the details became clearer. My objective was in sight. In a few minutes I would enter a world that, as a child, was as alien as the surface of Venus and as inaccessible. I thought of all the obstacles overcome, all the mountains climbed, all the dragons slain, just to get where I am at this moment. And as the plane gently kissed the ground of Mother Russia, one thought dominated all others:
"Good Lord, what have I gotten myself into?"
To be continued...
