Ports of

The Spiral Sea

An Idea Exchange Vehicle

for Contagious Concepts

Vol 1 No 1

August 2001

.Page 2... Return to Page 1-- .Go to Page 3

 The train car had a pot of water kept boiling for tea at any time. We had brought food with us, so we ate picnic meals in our compartment. These days in the New Russia, touring companies offer packaged tours aboard the Trans-Siberian, and they do in fact serve interesting fare in the "restaurant cars." But this trip, our state of exhaustion made a nice, quiet meal, while gazing out our own picture window at the passing countryside, an attractive alternative.

 .

 .

Twenty-four hours into the twenty-nine hour trip, when we pulled into the city of Perm, Slava's sister met us with a goodie bag of much-appreciated home-cooked food. We visited with her on the station platform, stretching our legs during the brief stop, but soon were on our way once more.

.

We had departed Moscow's central station at 2:30 PM on Saturday, and made Yekaterinburg by 9:30 PM Sunday, two time zones and 1700 kilometers eastward. Slava's son, Dima, was at the station to greet us in the cool evening. He loaded all of our luggage into his work van, and also helped to cart it all up three flights of stairs to our apartment.

Monday morning early, Slava volunteered to do a bit of pre-breakfast shopping--necessary due to our long absence. He came back disgruntled that, as usual, the store closest to us had only one kind of breakfast cereal--plain corn flakes. It takes a little time to readjust to Russian life for Slava, as well as for me, after a visit to the United States, or any Western country. But Dima had thoughtfully provided us with country-fresh garden blueberries, which added a delicious burst of flavor to the corn flakes.

________________________________________________________________________

My first day back I tried to find an activity compatible with flat brain waves. Looking at a pile of laundry, I figured that I could handle ironing sheets. (Since we do not have a dryer, all sheets and shirts need ironing.) This monotonous task was perfect.

The second phase of jet lag permits one to stay awake in the day time, but does not permit sleep at night. Unable to stay in bed, I got up to read the dullest book I have.

I have not yet called friends to let them know that I am back, nor have I started to work on projects. My main goal for the week is nothing more than to adjust to being awake when it's light, and to sleep when it's dark... I sometimes wonder how many other people are made as miserable as I by jet lag. If a U.S. president were ever to be so afflicted, he or she might chose a foreign policy emphasis on Latin America in order to keep travel within a narrow time zone band.

Gradually I am getting better. Last night Slava and I went to visit Dima and Yulia and son Nikita, age 5. Yulia planned the evening as a delayed birthday for the menfolk--all of them!  Slava had a birthday on July 26th, and Dima and Nikita on July 30th. Nikita proudly showed off a Lego kit pirate ship. Ever since he was three, he's had a thing for swords. Other little boys like guns. Not Nikita. His weapon of choice is a sword. So in fantasy play he's either a swash-buckling pirate, or a space cadet with a light saber. He's growing at a fearsome speed. Right now he's a cute little pirate, however it won't be long before he's a hunk.

It's no use. I have been trying to write myself awake, to no avail. I hope you will excuse me for a few days while I go off to take a nappie-poo...

....On to Page 3