Asa vs. The world

Secret Lovahs' rendezvous

asakitfield — Mon, 10 Dec 2007 18:02:00 GMT

Well finally, post three. I am wicked behind mostly because the internet cafes' computers are pure shit and after battling with them for an hour or two I usually give up and resume my position on the beach. A lot has happened since my last post but I will try to keep these things in order, so first things first... Moscow...

Well thank god that I had Masha to show me around the city because there was no hope with out a russian translator. I ran into a few people that spoke a little english, the gals at the airport information desk and thats about it. Thank my lucky stars that Masha was able to meet me at the airport on time and I didn't have to try and decipher the train station names, which was our back up plan. But everything worked out great! She was there waiting for me and just like out of a movie, we were both nerviously scanning the masses for a familiar face. Then the second we locked eyes, our hearts jumped through the top of our skulls with excitement. Very cheesey I know... Anyway, so after re-adjusting to our language barrier for 30 minutes while chit chatting, we jumped on a train into the city and to our hotel. The subways in moscow are the craziest I've ever seen. People just plain don't give a shit there. I was run over at least twice by a couple of old Ba-bushkas (old ladies) while trying to get on a train. It is by far the most popular form of transportation and is pretty much free-for-all warfare during 'rushhour'. Masha and I had to devise some sort of leash system so I didn't get shoved off a train. That was until I just started throwing bow's. Much move effective.

So once we got settled into our crappy hotel room which cost $120 a night (in thailand you can rent an entire hotel for that) we were off to have some din din with some of her friends. I had some traditional broskt or whatever ever it is called. Its a light beat soup. Not to bad. They also have this brewed soft drink that tastes like a combination of stale college keg beer and my running shoes. But I politely drank it down, smiled and said "mmmmmmmmm" and then of course I had some russian pancakes (crepes). The dinner was good but the conversation pretty much blew. She hadn't seen her friends since high school so they had lots to talk about... in russian. I sucked it up though because I pretty much put her through the same thing all summer with my fast, slang talking (and usually slurring) friends from 'boozebay' harbor. During dinner though I had to use the little boys room so I ventured off looking for it on my own. I figured there would be some sort of sign with a symbol that resemmbled a toilet or some clue to point me in the right direction. Nope. They just use russian words there. fuck. I forgot to mention that we were eating in a place simular to a food court in a mall which was quite busy. So once I think I find the way to the toilets down this extraordinarily plain hallway and stairwell (everything is plain and basic in russia) I feel a sigh of relief and make a B-line for the men's room as I'm about to explode from that Sneaker soda. It is here where I learn my first lesson of the trip the hard way: you generally have to pay to use public bathrooms in other parts of the world. As I am jogging to the bathroom door I hear an explotion of russian curse words coming from a russian lady who then starts chasing after me! I duck into the shitter and without hesitating, she zips in right after me and starts yelling all sorts of shit at me in her wacky tongue. at this point I am half laughing and half petrified (as well as almost pissing my pants) and trying to figure out what the hell this lady wants from me. She obviously doesn't speak a word of english so this conversation is going no where. So I end up letting her drag me back down the hallway by my forearm to her Pee-pee payment stand and figure out that I basically just ran right by her with out paying. I give her the 10 flippin' rubles and go about my business. Whoops

Masha had lots of stuff planned for my visit and the most important being the russian bathhouse. She had briefly talked about this bathhouse in months prior but would not prepare me for what I was in store for. I will have to save the bathhouse story for its own entry as it was quite a tale and this one is getting to long.

The last night we went to a club called Cafe fresh... It was a great time. Met up with a couple of my new comrads from the bath house party and drank lots of vodka and tequila. Russians like shots.

All in all it was a great stop and was great to see masha. we parted at the train station with as few tears as possible. I was going to miss her of course but its hard to be upset when you are on your way to paradise.

till next time

disturbing the work week in london

asakitfield — Fri, 7 Dec 2007 11:18:00 GMT

Well Finally post numero dos... Stop two, London England. I certainly picked a weird time to go see henri, one of my longtime drinking buddies and old roommates. I showed up on monday and left thurs. morning. plus the poor kid is finally working a 9-5 now. Lucky for henri's sake I was pretty tired from the recent weekend and all the traveling so I didn't manage to get him fired. Almost, but no cigar. (wait till I come back through London on my way home through!) The second I stepped off the plane into the busy beehive that is Heathrow, I received a swift slap in the face by the pimp hand of the U.K. exchange rate. I was extremely parched from my flight mostly because virgin Atlantic likes to serve their water in either shot glasses or mini shampoo size bottles and I got tired of asking the irritable stewardess. so off the plane I went straight for a mini-mart to buy a beverage and a snack. When the lady told me the price in her pleasantly smart accent I nearly messed myself when I converted it to USD. "$55,000 for a fucking coke and smile??" This trip's budget was doomed.
Henri's brilliant directions to his apartment were such crap that the cabbie couldn't even figure it out. An address would have been nice. so after driving around aimlessly for 20 minutes increasing the fare by multiple figures, the guy dropped me off in the 'area' and said "good luck mate" and then drove away with a small American fortune.

It was great to see henri, and meet his very German girl friend, his roommate and his roommate super hot sweedish girl friend. Sweeden is now going to be a stop on the European leg of this trip for sure.

First night was low key and spent it mostly catchy up over some wine. I ended up taking an ambien so I could get some much needed deep rest and to adjust my body to the time zone. Of course ten minutes after I take my sleeping pill I discover the live broadcast of the monday night football game (pats vs. ravens) on some UK sports channel in the high 800's- HEAVEN! one of my largest peeves about being abroad is missing my beloved patriots. So I struggled desperately to stay awake and watch the game. Despite the jumping jacks and cold water to the face, the wine and ambien took charge and I didn't make it past the first quarter. We still won, of course.

The second night was the only night we went out, which was probably best for all persons involves. I didn't wake up till and 3 pm thanks to my pharmaceutical induced coma and in London it gets dark at about noon. So I missed all the touristy things I wanted to do for the day and settled for a long jog around Hyde Park. After almost getting hit by three cars because of the difference in road edict (I discovered yellow stop lights mean speed up, not slow down) I made it back to the apartment and began to get ready. Henri thought it would be a good idea to take me to all the touristy bars that all the American students and old sleazy brit-tops go to get pissed and hook up. It wasn't much of a slice of true London nightlife but it was still a good time in its own right. The places were lined with heavy set and sloshed chicks both brits and yanks. It seemed that older British men like to come here dressed in their work suits to shoot a little ‘British accent’ game at the easy American piggies. After 6 or 7 Guinness’s we got into the game a little as well but our better judgment saved us from the "quantity, not quality" mind set of these bars.

Two memorable events occurred that still strike me a smile. The first place we stopped at, henri, christian (roommate) and I were enjoying our first pints of the night, when some freckle faced irish alcoholic chick got our attention and in a thick drunk Dublin accent asked "do you engage in physical violence?" Caught off guard we replied "no" and then YOINK! She snagged henri's beer in took two steps back to her group of friends to continue chatting as nothing had happened. Needless to say henri was both pissed and shocked but there really wasn't much he could do. You can't give a drunk Irish gal a beat down in public over a pint... well maybe in the right neighborhood of northern Ireland but not here. So after a few words of anger henri managed to earn half of his own beer back. She didn't even need the beer at all. She looked like the 'drunk girl' in her group of friends. The one whose friends have to decide who’s turn it is to baby-sit her before they go out for the night. We saw her later get into a nearby car and drive home, she probably ran over a small family and is in jail as we speak.
The second altercation happened after the bars had closed and they were begging us to leave. Henri in some way managed to insult a skinny French guy while smoking a cigarette. This frenchy started going on about how powerful he was and that we were nothing (even though he had been hanging out at the same crappy bar we were). With one clean open hand slap to the face henri wiped the frog’s pretentious smile right off his face, as well as his cigarette. After a short pause, The masseur’s rantings changed from condescending remarks to lethal threats. He proclaimed that we were all already dead. That tomorrow we would not wake up because he was to have us killed. blah blah blah. The friends he was with rolled their eyes at their friend like "here we go again" and then pulled him away. So needless to say I'm still alive and well and enjoying the bangkok heat. Till next time….

Gallery: Fancy london town

asakitfield — Thu, 6 Dec 2007 19:48:00 GMT

workweek disruption for henry

Gallery: Pit stop in NYC

asakitfield — Mon, 3 Dec 2007 16:25:00 GMT

egregiousness with the usual suspects

Pit stop in NYC

asakitfield — Mon, 3 Dec 2007 02:10:00 GMT

I would have to say that this was the official start of the trip even though it was supposed to be more of a send off. It was a recipe for egregiousness with some of my favorites scheduled to meet up. I drove down from boston with Richie and Rory and of course, I took my usual car cat nap for most of the journey. Though I did manage to wake up for enough time to leave my mark on a dunkin doughnuts bathroom some where in conn. where I also proceeded to loose my sunglasses. These were those expensive sunglasses you bring on a trip that you say to yourself while packing: "eeeh, I probably shouldn't bring these because I bet i'll loose them... Ahh fuck it, i'll bring em' anyway". whoops, no big deal, one less things to worry about loosing, right?

So after battling a little rush hour traffic the three of us managed to make it rory's friend terresa's apt. where we regrouped before heading out. I'm not quite sure how detailed I want to make these things because of the wide array of audiences that will be looking on. Obviously the more details the funnier but I think I will have to use the occasional omission as to not incriminate any third parties or even myself. So unfortunately the only truly outlandish story that comes to mind from the NYC pit stop will have to be saved for a later date. It involves an incredibly awkward love triangle that ends in a certain drunken someone having to take a bus back to boston at 4 am because a certain lady decided to switch her fancy to a different guy. All I have to say is I'm sorry grant.

Anywhoo, The weekend was a perfect send off; lots of good ole drunken laughter. I some how managed to, for the first time in my life, not spend a small fortune in New york city mostly accredited to the aid of my friends and blatant bad math skills of the bartender at the place we went Saturday night. We hit up a couple fun bars that would be posh by any of maine's standards; one called 'fat baby' and then other 'plan b'. I also got the chance to meet up with a couple familiar faces from the summer: garreth and jenn, which was great (thanks for coming out guys) We finished up the weekend with the traditional hung-over sunday brunch where the four of us (dan oregan was there) managed to disrupt anyone sitting in near vicinity of us with lewd conversation and loud laughter. I spent sunday night with my parents and cousin lydia, uncle joe and the kids which was very pleasant. (thank you very much lydia and joe for letting me crash there, and thank you parents for coming down to see me off). I didn't end up sleeping at all that night because of a mix of excitement and last minute loose ends to tie up.

So during this stop I decided that in addition to blogging travel recaps and stories, I would throw in a haiku for each entry or location. This would be carrying on a tradition I started in argentina on my outward bound expedition. during the trip, the group i hiked with kept a group journal and people would take turns writing an entry each day and then read it aloud. entry would range from recaps to sonnets to haiku's... The Haiku's were my favorite so here goes the first of many:

Refresher: haiku is a short 3 line poem, 5 then 7 then 5 syllables are allowed for each line respectively. And they don't need to rhyme, well mine don't

Goals for N Y C
try to not spend all my dough
this is just the start

well that one blows, i need a warm up to get my poetic juices flowing....

till next time