The metro. Recently I have become an aficionado or something like that. I have ventured out on my own with kids in tow and arrived perfectly timed at my destination. I also have walked to and from different stations and been able to navigate around my traditional path. This is a big accomplishment. Believe me.
There are some interesting things to note about the metro. The groggy masses board and depart the train with equal amounts of indifference. Some of these people have ridden these rails since childhood, back when communism was alive and well.
It’s different now to be sure. Young people sport ear phones, cell-phones, and e-books instead of the traditional bound materials. But I’ve noticed something unique about this massive public transit---its silence. Aside from the announcer who tells us at which stop we’ve arrived and where we’re headed, there is no talking. You don’t really notice when the sounds of the scraping breaks ensue, but when it stops, the silence is almost deafening.
There are, like all things, some exceptions. The kids and I witnessed a few when we were out the other day. One is the occasional giggle or screams from a small child. I get to witness this often when my three older kids tickle number 4. If you want to see a Russian smile, cause a small child to laugh or giggle. It gets them every time.
Second is the cell-phone ring. In the States you might hear a cheesy television theme song, heavy metal, or even rap on the ring. Here it is something akin to the Russian version of techno music (which surprisingly reminds me of polka). It rarely rings more than once. The guilty party is very quick to pick up and conduct their business. Although I don’t know what they’re saying, I don’t think they talk on the phone just to yak.
The third phenomenon is unique. Real musicians. Yesterday we stood feet away from a young boy playing the accordion keeping his balance on the moving vehicle. At first I thought it was a cell-phone but the volume increased and my kids’ eyes widened. He didn’t look poor or sick, but he took donations in a bag on his arm anyway. Many were happy to oblige.
A fourth unique scene is the traveling salesperson. The most frequent item is foldable shopping bags that make something cute like dangling strawberries, a triangle or whatever. These people move from car to car, wait until the doors close, and then prey on the captive audience. My favorite item was Dr. Scholl’s insoles for men. Very funny.
The last thing I want to mention is real beggars. This is heartbreaking. Usually we are decently comfortable in our seats when someone stumbles onto the train. A seat is always offered to them but they decline and then announce their needs. They hobble down the aisle asking for a kopeck or two. A woman I saw yesterday had a body that looked 80 years old. When my eyes wandered to her face, I saw that she was no older than me. It made my heart ache to look at her. Moscow isn’t exactly handicap friendly.
Despite all these social oddities, we will continue to ride the metro. We’re definitely getting the best view of the city from this angle.
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