In mid-December of 1989, my best Russian, then Soviet, friend, Andrei Zhelnov, visited me in the United States. He was among the early Soviets who were permitted to travel to the West during the Gorbachev Era of glasnost and perestroika. It wasn't easy to get him here. I had to send a formal invitation through the Soviet Embassy and take out a health insurance policy on him, but he did get here.
He flew into New York, and the next day mutual friends and I took him to the Christmas Spectacular at Radio City Music Hall. He was amazed by everything he saw from hydraulic lifts that worked their wonders during the Rockettes Christmas Spectacular to the drive in window at McDonalds. During our tour of New York he asked me what "those pretty songs I keep hearing" were. I said, "Andrei, they're called Christmas carols, and you sang them, too, before the Revolution. Maybe some day you'll sing them again." That's how isolated they were under communism. An educated man in his early thirties had never heard "Silent Night." After all, it's only been translated into about 150 languages! Andrei loved everything about Christmas. Only the ubiquitous wreaths unsettled him. In Russia, wreathes mean death. I assured him he didn't enter the country during the time of a plague.
After New York, we came home to Blackwood. We went into Gateway, after having stayed till about 4 a.m. watching ET. Andrei met with my very first Russian class and spent most of the day answering questions from students and teachers in the lecture room. That night, we went to a German Club Christmas party hosted by the Weisser family. It was bitter cold that evening, and the Weissers had a wonderful fire going. Andrei and I sat in front of the fireplace getting to know Mr. and Mrs. Weisser while the kids were downstairs playing pool. Suddenly, Andrei said something like, "It's so cozy to sit in front of a fire. The peasants all had fireplaces, but as soon as electrification came to the country, they boarded them all up because they were old fashion." Andrei had never before sat in front of a fire on a cold winter night.
When we excused ourselves to attend to my charges, we walked down the steps to the basement. Suddenly, Andrei caught sight of the kids playing pool at the Weissers' pool table. It would be one of the many times Andrei laughed out loud here. Billiards was a game played by aristocrats before the Revolution. There were pool houses here and there in the Soviet Union, but Andrei had never been to one, and he had certainly never seen a pool table in the home of someone in the middle class. It astonished him that middle class Americans could have pool tables in their homes.
I also took Andrei into Philadelphia. My nephew, Gregory, and niece, Adrienne, came over, and we made a tooth pick Christmas tree with styrofoam balls and artificial snow. Andrei thought it was funny that we had to go to three stores before we found artificial snow. In the Soviet Union, you might might go to ten stores to find a good cut of meat! Store to store to store and line to line to line was just a way of life in his country. After that, I took Andrei, Adrienne, and Gregory to South Street for Jim's steaks and then to the "Nutcracker." Andrei had seen it at the Bolshoi but was pleased with the Pennsylvania Ballet production.
When I got on the phone once to order dinner, Andrei just shook his head in disbelief. "You mean, you just make a phone call, order dinner, and they actually deliver it to your home!?" "Well, yes, Andrei, that's how it works." Again, astonishment. When on another evening, we pulled up to a drive in window at McDonald's, I ordered the food, and Andrei guessed that's what I was doing. "What happens next," he demanded to know with childlike curiosity! Just about everything astonished him.
Finally, Andrei and I left for Disney World. I drove. We broke up the trip by visiting a friend in Savannah, spent two nights there, and then left for Orlando the next morning. I won't go into all the wonders of Disney World, but I had never been there either, and I was impressed by it. At one point, we were walking through Polynesia. We weren't saying a word. We were both so stunned by how Disney had recreated Polynesia that we were speechless. All of a sudden, Andrei exclaimed, "Kipp, I bet this is impressive even by capitalist standards!" This time it was my turn to laugh out loud. "Yes, Andrei, it is impressive even my capitalist standards!" The first 3-D film that Disney showed that Christmas was Michael Jackson's Captain EO. I had tried to explain 3-D to Andrei on the way down, but I guess my Russian wasn't adequate to get it across. We put the glasses on, and Andrei wondered what they were for. "You'll see!" I had never seen 3-D that sophisticated before either, and Andrei had never seen it even once in his life. He just kept shaking his head and exclaiming "Obaldet," something like "Incredible!!" Later after the fireworks ending our first evening in Disney World, Andrei would use, over and over again, a much stronger Russian slang word for "Incredible!"
Introducing Andrei to Gateway was a highlight of my career. Introducing him to Christmas a highlight of my life. I think Andrei would say the same thing.
He flew into New York, and the next day mutual friends and I took him to the Christmas Spectacular at Radio City Music Hall. He was amazed by everything he saw from hydraulic lifts that worked their wonders during the Rockettes Christmas Spectacular to the drive in window at McDonalds. During our tour of New York he asked me what "those pretty songs I keep hearing" were. I said, "Andrei, they're called Christmas carols, and you sang them, too, before the Revolution. Maybe some day you'll sing them again." That's how isolated they were under communism. An educated man in his early thirties had never heard "Silent Night." After all, it's only been translated into about 150 languages! Andrei loved everything about Christmas. Only the ubiquitous wreaths unsettled him. In Russia, wreathes mean death. I assured him he didn't enter the country during the time of a plague.
After New York, we came home to Blackwood. We went into Gateway, after having stayed till about 4 a.m. watching ET. Andrei met with my very first Russian class and spent most of the day answering questions from students and teachers in the lecture room. That night, we went to a German Club Christmas party hosted by the Weisser family. It was bitter cold that evening, and the Weissers had a wonderful fire going. Andrei and I sat in front of the fireplace getting to know Mr. and Mrs. Weisser while the kids were downstairs playing pool. Suddenly, Andrei said something like, "It's so cozy to sit in front of a fire. The peasants all had fireplaces, but as soon as electrification came to the country, they boarded them all up because they were old fashion." Andrei had never before sat in front of a fire on a cold winter night.
When we excused ourselves to attend to my charges, we walked down the steps to the basement. Suddenly, Andrei caught sight of the kids playing pool at the Weissers' pool table. It would be one of the many times Andrei laughed out loud here. Billiards was a game played by aristocrats before the Revolution. There were pool houses here and there in the Soviet Union, but Andrei had never been to one, and he had certainly never seen a pool table in the home of someone in the middle class. It astonished him that middle class Americans could have pool tables in their homes.
I also took Andrei into Philadelphia. My nephew, Gregory, and niece, Adrienne, came over, and we made a tooth pick Christmas tree with styrofoam balls and artificial snow. Andrei thought it was funny that we had to go to three stores before we found artificial snow. In the Soviet Union, you might might go to ten stores to find a good cut of meat! Store to store to store and line to line to line was just a way of life in his country. After that, I took Andrei, Adrienne, and Gregory to South Street for Jim's steaks and then to the "Nutcracker." Andrei had seen it at the Bolshoi but was pleased with the Pennsylvania Ballet production.
When I got on the phone once to order dinner, Andrei just shook his head in disbelief. "You mean, you just make a phone call, order dinner, and they actually deliver it to your home!?" "Well, yes, Andrei, that's how it works." Again, astonishment. When on another evening, we pulled up to a drive in window at McDonald's, I ordered the food, and Andrei guessed that's what I was doing. "What happens next," he demanded to know with childlike curiosity! Just about everything astonished him.
Finally, Andrei and I left for Disney World. I drove. We broke up the trip by visiting a friend in Savannah, spent two nights there, and then left for Orlando the next morning. I won't go into all the wonders of Disney World, but I had never been there either, and I was impressed by it. At one point, we were walking through Polynesia. We weren't saying a word. We were both so stunned by how Disney had recreated Polynesia that we were speechless. All of a sudden, Andrei exclaimed, "Kipp, I bet this is impressive even by capitalist standards!" This time it was my turn to laugh out loud. "Yes, Andrei, it is impressive even my capitalist standards!" The first 3-D film that Disney showed that Christmas was Michael Jackson's Captain EO. I had tried to explain 3-D to Andrei on the way down, but I guess my Russian wasn't adequate to get it across. We put the glasses on, and Andrei wondered what they were for. "You'll see!" I had never seen 3-D that sophisticated before either, and Andrei had never seen it even once in his life. He just kept shaking his head and exclaiming "Obaldet," something like "Incredible!!" Later after the fireworks ending our first evening in Disney World, Andrei would use, over and over again, a much stronger Russian slang word for "Incredible!"
Introducing Andrei to Gateway was a highlight of my career. Introducing him to Christmas a highlight of my life. I think Andrei would say the same thing.
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