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[personal profile] alexpgp
I sweated blood over the "welcome to the USSR" speech I gave to each new group of tourists arriving from the United States that bicentennial year. I polished it, and practiced its delivery, because it had to be quick and thorough, yet interesting enough to hold my audience's attention for the length of a long commercial television interruption back home. While delivering a generally upbeat and wholesome message (summarized by "we're going to have a great time!"), the principal point of my spiel was to convince my newly arrived charges to avoid striking out on their own: don't exchange currency on the street, don't buy item such as icons, samovars or antiques, and above all, refrain from associating with political dissidents.

As in any such endeavor, there will always be that 10% of the crowd that fails to absorb the message.

In my experience, membership in that last decile is not necessarily due to a lack of education or intelligence. In fact, my most memorable interaction with a member of this never-quite-up-to-speed group involved a university professor of economics. On the evening before his group's departure for home, said professor knocked on my door as I was getting ready to join the group for dinner, and asked me to come with him to his room.

"Is everything okay?" I asked.

"I don't know," he said. "I need some advice."

I followed the professor into his room. On the bed, half-buried in a mound of well-wrinkled newspaper, there was a samovar. It was old and grungy, and not in the best of condition, but it was an honest-to-goodness antique samovar, dated 1869, which doubtless had boiled countless gallons of water and brewed many, many kettles of tea over its lifetime.

"Where did you get the samovar?" I asked.

"I bought it at an antique shop," said the professor. "Isn't it a beauty? The reason I knocked on your door, though, is that now I'm hearing that I won't be able to take it out of the country. Is that true?"

"Well, you heard right," I said (mentally adding probably from me, back when you arrived). "Foreigners need to jump through a number of hoops and get proper appraisals and approvals before the authorities will let an antique like this out of the country."

"But it's not as if this is some kind of national treasure," protested the professor.

"I can only agree, but I don't make the rules," I said, and gave a little shrug.

"Isn't there anything that can be done?" he asked.

"I don't think so, but let me give the problem some thought," I said. "In the meantime, we're about to be late for dinner and we can't let that happen, can we? I'll see you downstairs, okay?"

I left the professor's room and took the elevator down to the second floor, then turned left, toward the main dining room. As I passed by the display window of the hotel's Beriozka shop – one of several state-run souvenir shops for foreigners situated strategically around Moscow – I saw a number of people from my group standing in line to exchange their foreign currency for all sorts of knick-knacks, including nesting dolls, lacquered boxes, and modern, electric stainless-steel versions of the samovar up in the professor's room. Business was good.

They have a strange saying in Russia: "If it's forbidden, but you want to very much, then it's permitted." I'm not saying I understood it very well, but the saying echoed in my mind as I mulled over the professor's predicament and made a decision. A little while later, I buttonholed the professor as he left the dining room.

"Professor, are you a risk-taker?" I asked.

"Well, yes. Sometimes," he said. "Why?"

We had a brief discussion about his immediate problem, which ended with the professor nodding agreement, whereupon I told him what I wanted him to do, and arranged to meet him in his room in half an hour. I went up to my room and fetched my multipurpose Swiss Army knife.

When I arrived at the professor's room, I saw that he had fulfilled my instructions to the letter. With the greatest of care, I used the various implements on my knife to undo the knot in the string that was tied around the package from the Beriozka shop. Then I laid the undamaged string to one side and carefully unwrapped the several layers of rough paper imprinted with the Beriozka logo that had been used to wrap the contents of the package.

Moving with care and deliberation, I replaced the utilitarian stainless steel samovar the professor had bought in the hotel's Beriozka shop with the purchased antique article, then I carefully rewrapped the samovar with the Beriozka paper and retied the string around the package. Unless the departure customs examination was particularly thorough, there was no reason to think the Beriozka package would attract a second glance while clearing customs the following day at the airport.

"So, what happens if I get caught doing this?" asked the professor as I admired my knot-tying skills.

"Well, as I mentioned in the dining room downstairs, if you get caught, I'm to be left out of it. I will disavow any knowledge of this, is that clear?"

"Yes," he said, "you have my word on that, but if I am caught, what can they do to me?"

"They may make you fill out a bunch of forms," I said, "but in the end, about the worst they can do to you is confiscate the samovar and kick you out of the country. Maybe fine you. The way things stand without this scheme, they'll still confiscate the samovar and you're leaving tomorrow anyway." The professor nodded.

"Okay, I understand, but why did you have me buy all this other stuff?" asked the professor, pointing at two bags of other souvenirs that I asked him to buy, including a set of nesting matrioshka dolls, some wooden spoons, and a mandolin-like balalaika.

"You want to give the impression that you're a harmless souvenir-hound that went crazy inside the Beriozka shop," I said. "Whatever you do, do not treat the samovar package as if it is your nearest and dearest possession." The professor nodded once more, and handed me the steel samovar as I left his room. "This is for you," he said.

By the time I got back to my room, it occurred to me the samovar I had been given was overly heavy for its size. I removed the cover, and discovered the professor had managed to stow a compact bottle of cranberry liqueur inside the samovar while I had fussed with the decoy package. Fair enough, I thought, and grinned.

The next day, I accompanied the group to the airport and watched as the group slowly percolated through the customs stations. When his turn came, the professor put the samovar on the ground so that he could give the customs official his passport and declaration, and then scooted it along the floor with his feet while carrying his other two bags of souvenirs through the gate to the check-in counter. Bravo, professor!

After the entire group had been processed, I turned to go claim a table in the airport's coffee shop while I waited for the new group arriving on the same plane taking the old group home. I pulled out my carefully worded welcome speech and a pen. The text needed a little more polish, I thought - a little more oomph! - to better get my message across.

Date: 2010-05-22 05:05 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] supremegoddess1.livejournal.com
i love how you incorporated the topic!

Date: 2010-05-23 01:43 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] alexpgp.livejournal.com
Thank you!

Cheers...

Date: 2010-05-22 06:39 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] tamara-toronto.livejournal.com
Вот действительно уж, браво, профессор:) А говорят, что только русские обладают такой смекалкой( хотя, идея, все же была не его :))

Date: 2010-05-23 01:56 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] alexpgp.livejournal.com
По поводу смеклаки, и кто обладает ей, не знаю. Я же тоже не русский! :)

Спасибо за комментарий.

Cheers...

Date: 2010-05-23 10:47 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] tamara-toronto.livejournal.com
Так вот я об этом же и говорю -о Вас же :)

Date: 2010-05-22 11:09 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] furzicle.livejournal.com
When you speak to people, you always seem to think that they've heard everything you've said. I would say that if only 10% missed what you've said, you're in an advanced group! With kids (and I don't think adults are much different)I think 100% of them miss at least 10% of everything you say. And 10% miss a whole lot more!

One thing that I do with kids is have them repeat after me certain key points. I figure, once they've said it, they're more likely to remember at least that one phrase. Repeat after me, "Buying antiques is forbidden."

This is another cute story!

Date: 2010-05-23 01:42 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] alexpgp.livejournal.com
Thanks!

I quickly became aware of the fact that most intelligent adults apparently turn off their brains when they go on vacation, so the task I had before me was difficult, because nobody likes being lectured to on the bus from the airport. On the other hand, this was Soviet Russia we were talking about.

(My 10% figure is taken from conventional Marine Corps wisdom, BTW.)

Cheers...

Date: 2010-05-23 03:00 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] furzicle.livejournal.com
Hmmm, on the assumption that most Marines would listen really closely to what they're being told by a DI, the percentage goes up. Like all people, there would be a mix of intelligent and less-intelligent people there, so I can't say anything about them being dumb or smart. Generally, the Marines I have known seem to be slightly smarter than the general population. (After all, the smart ones join the USMC and the others join the army!) But knowing the Marines, they probably researched it pretty thoroughly.

Date: 2010-05-23 11:06 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] alephz.livejournal.com
Man, tons of neat stuff and the prof got to feel like a spy.

Bravo, professor, indeed!

Date: 2010-05-24 03:24 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] alexpgp.livejournal.com
Thanks for reading!

Cheers...

Date: 2010-05-23 08:39 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] mstrobel.livejournal.com
Aha! What a brilliant triumph, I loved it! Bravo professor indeed for the scooting too :) Genius.

Date: 2010-05-24 03:24 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] alexpgp.livejournal.com
I thought it was a nice touch.

Cheers...

Date: 2010-05-24 04:32 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] velvet-granat.livejournal.com
Hehe :) There is a very curious setup in St.Petersburg international terminal... if you are taking something out of the country (artwork, old samovars, etc.), you are supposed to find a form in your language, on a stand hidden about 20 metres away from the one and only entrance into the customs area. Of course the signs on this tiny stand are in Russian only, so bully you if you can't read it. Then you fill it out, and then, like a good law abiding citizen, after being shuttled through the first luggage scanner at the speed of light, you are supposed to walk down the Red Channel, open your bag and display its contents. Quite unlike the hordes who surge down the Green Channel straight to the check in desks where they happily get rid off their suitcases and go off to be patted down before shopping themselves silly in Duty Free.

Curiously enough, if you don't declare anything and don't walk down the red line, they don't ask, as they have no other way of knowing that you might be carrying a Monet wrapped in a jumper in your check in luggage. If you are boarding a flight home via Asia, they don't even pay attention to you because two Japanese tour buses have just disgorged their contents and they are all going through a single scanning machine. It's very... Russian in its absurdity. ;)

Date: 2010-05-24 03:27 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] alexpgp.livejournal.com
My understanding is that the customs agents select people at random in the green line for inspection (it happened to me once), but the selection process can be quite random and, as you note, quite characteristic in its method

Cheers...

Date: 2010-05-25 02:23 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] teaberryblue.livejournal.com
What a cool story!

Date: 2010-05-25 02:43 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] alexpgp.livejournal.com
Thank you!

Cheers...

Date: 2010-05-25 02:56 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] teaberryblue.livejournal.com
I actually liked it quite a lot more than "what a cool story" implies but I can't brain right now.

Date: 2010-05-25 02:41 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] gratefuladdict.livejournal.com
Well done, as always! :)

Date: 2010-05-25 02:44 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] alexpgp.livejournal.com
Thanks!

Cheers...

Date: 2010-05-25 09:01 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] rattsu.livejournal.com
... oh how I would have been one of those 10% I am afraid to say... oh how I would have been.

Date: 2010-05-28 11:24 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] alexpgp.livejournal.com
We all are members of that group from time to time, methinks.

Cheers...

Date: 2010-05-26 08:13 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] fourzoas.livejournal.com
I really enjoyed this piece; this professor's story will have me chuckling for a while, and as someone who often has to give those "welcome and here's a list of Important Stuff You Need to Remember" speeches, I can really relate!

Date: 2010-05-28 11:25 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] alexpgp.livejournal.com
I'm glad you liked it!

Cheers...

Date: 2010-05-27 08:11 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] blythe025.livejournal.com
Great post!

Date: 2010-05-28 11:25 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] alexpgp.livejournal.com
Thanks! (And thanks for reading!)

Cheers...

Date: 2010-05-27 10:33 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] agirlnamedluna.livejournal.com
This was probably one of the most clever takes on a topic =D

Date: 2010-05-28 11:27 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] alexpgp.livejournal.com
I appreciate the compliment. There were rather a large number of clever takes this past week.

Cheers...

Date: 2010-05-27 11:14 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] beautyofgrey.livejournal.com
oooh, love this. The topic was so subtle I almost missed it. :)

Date: 2010-05-28 11:29 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] alexpgp.livejournal.com
For my part, I could not help but think the topic seemed to be standing on a street corner, crying "Extra! Extra!" at the top of its fictional little lungs. :)

Thanks for the comment!

Cheers...

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