I left the metro ready to explore the city only to realize the museum I stood in front of was not open yet. Instead, I headed to the Pesto Café only to be met with severe disappointment. I entered telling the woman I wanted a non-smoking section. She led me along the two seat tables obviously in the smoking section all the while telling me “no smoking”. I warily sat down looking to see if people around me smoked. They were far enough away. OK. I ordered my meal and waited only to see more and more smoking. No. I moved to the non-smoking area waiting for my food…and waited. I went up to them asking for my food. FINALLY. It came out…COLD. Two small beef medallions smothered in sauce too sweet even for cake icing. The potato chunks tasted stale and the grilled vegetables limped in sogginess. I went to the front to pay telling them the food was late and bad. The attendant went to the kitchen with my card. I stood…waited…to see the body guard move in front of the machine I stood in front of. He thought I was going to harm the computer! How audacious! I laughed at him. How funny he was! He moved away when he realized how ridiculous he looked. I left that place in a hurry.

The cool museum made up for the ridiculous restaurant. Set in an old “medieval” building, I toured the theatrical museum. I liked the museum the best. It had old vaudeville machines people used to take on the road entertaining children with puppetry and machinations. In fact, a woman was demonstrating some of them to a young boy. I pretended to be a young girl “oohing and aahing” when she opened a compartment to see the small figurines pop out or when she opened the chest to show the movable people. She seemed to have as much fun as him. I had to pull myself away up the stairs to meet the militant attendant. She asked for my photo ticket. She touched my pant pocket telling me to place it in there. No other guard has been that up front. She cracked me up. I went from room to room with another attendant pointing the way. At the end the militant woman once again wanted to tell me what to do while the other attendant and I smiled while saying I had already been there. The woman sighed in her disappointment not to be able to tell me what to do.

I walked on hungry searching for something simple and easy. I found it in a basement bakery. Yummy! Pizza, cakes, pastries, cookies, and pies. They overwhelmed my eyes! I finally settled on a heart shaped chicken quiche. For $3 I ate as much as my $30 lunch only 1 hour before! The fresh chicken, cheese, and mushrooms made up me almost forget the meal before. 5 minutes later it was gone but not my memory. I knew it would be good by seeing the long line. Oh so good. This helped me when I went shopping next. I visited the Valenki Museum with its displays of felt boots. Felt boots are a Russian heritage with pride. I saw pictures of them being used during wars and by dignitaries. They are warm beyond belief. Some were painted…some embroidered…some plain but powerful. I just had to go to the store next door. No, I didn’t get a boot because they were too bulbous for me but people were going crazy over them buying here and there. I opted for the sheep covered felt slippers to keep me warm during the long winter. Oh…I also bought a funky hat no Russian would dare wear but that I love dearly.

I needed that hat with the very cold weather…and it was chilly! I forgot about the heat when I entered the Spaso House, the American Ambassador’s Residence, to volunteer for the Christmas party. A band rehearsed while I took photo after photo. The super large tree hovered over the people while the ballroom was ready for kids and plenty of activities while the side room prepared for Santa Claus and Ded Moroz (Russian equivalent). I found my place at the top of the entrance stairs ready to take goodies people brought for the party. They came slowly but then exploded; cookies, chocolates, cakes, and pastries. A number of people brought oranges. Why? They are to celebrate the New Year. One time I carried over three kilos of oranges to the kitchen which then brings them to the guests to partake. I had a corner in the kitchen of my sweet goodies after I finished bringing food from the guests to the kitchen. I ignored the Ambassador’s speech to enjoy the season. I ignored people prodding him for a photo. Instead, I enjoyed the people who came, the American music flowing in the air, and the camaraderie present. Children squealed with parents laughed. My best moments were watching the kids sit on Santa’s lap and adults standing next to Ded Moroz. Before I knew it, my feet told me it was time to go home and rest. I did, but not before I compiled my sweet goodies!

You will not be hearing from me for awhile because I will be visiting Sri Lanka, Greece, Armenia, and Kyrgyzstan. I cannot wait to explore!