Dear Citibank:
I am a Citigold customer as well as having my mortgage through Citibank. I pay Citibank about $1500 in interest payments per month.
I thought that I would give a final report on the series of unfortunate events that occurred between Sunday, June 28, 2009 and Thursday, July 30, 2009.
Sunday, June 28- In the small town of Rostov Velliky, Russia I discovered that I lost my Citibank Bank Card. The next day, I tried to obtain a cash advance from the only two banks in the city and was not successful.
Monday, June 29- I took a train to the larger town of Yaroslavl, Russia. I found an Internet Café where I confirmed that no money had been fraudulently removed from my account. I notified Citibank of the loss of my card and asked that a replacement card be sent to me care of my hotel in Kostroma. I also tried to call the emergency number as well as the Sebastopol, California office of Citibank.
Tuesday through Thursday, June 30- July 2- I send multiple emails to Citibank informing them that I am not able to call the emergency number. I receive replies that tell me that they are unable to help me with my problem.
Friday, July 3- Kostroma, Russia: With the help of my Russian friend in Kostroma, after refusals by five banks, Gasprom Bank agrees to give me a cash advance of 20,000 rubles.
Saturday, July 4- Kostroma, Russia: All competent Citibank employees appear to be on an extended Independence Day weekend holiday. My banker, Ron Sparrow is on holiday. I send an email to Marisol. I also email Citibank with an open letter that I have published on my blog.
Monday, July 6- Vladimir, Russia: My son offers to send me some money by way of Western Union. He also informs my wife of my plight. I receive the first coherent letter from a Citibank employee with profuse apologies. Citibank is unable for some reason to send a replacement card overseas. She gives me a phone number to call. I am unable to successfully connect to this number.
Wednesday, July 8- Moscow, Russia: I go to a Citibank on the Arbat. One of the bankers speaks very good English but says that he is unable to help me. Accounts in Russia and the United States are not connected. He says they really work as separate banks.
Thursday, July 9- Moscow, Russia: I still am unable to successfully connect to Citibank. Every time I call the number a recording tell me to enter my account number and various other pieces of information. I am left with no money on my phone card and no successful connection to Citibank. I use up 2000 rubles ($63) trying to call. My wife, Donna, sends me $500 through Western Union.
Saturday, July 11- Moscow, Russia: This evening I receive an email from Citibank that says that I can get cash from my account if the banker calls a particular phone number in the United States. My train leaves for Riga, Latvia today. I can find no Citibank until I arrive in Prague, Czech Republic.
Monday, July 13- Krakow, Poland: Citibank email informs me that since I cannot call them, they will try to call me. I give them my cell phone number. It is a Russian cell phone number. Apparently they try to call me several times and are unsuccessful. They inform me by email that they are giving up trying to call.
Thursday, July 16- Prague, Czech Republic: I go to the Citibank and they are very kind. I meet with a banker who speaks good English. I give him the phone number to connect with the office in the United States. It takes us over an hour to get $500 in emergency cash from my account. The agent in the United States constantly tells me that the bank does not want to give me the money. He says that he is on night shift, I imagine as some excuse. He says that these transactions are risky operations. He asks for many many confirmations: social security number, bank card number, bank card pin, mother’s maiden name, place of birth, date of birth, California Driver’s license number, etc. Finally through the patience of both of us, I receive $500.
Tuesday, July 21- Sebastopol, California: I go to my local bank. Marisol informs me that fourth of July weekend was difficult for her. She says that Ron was away and she must have received a hundred emails that week. I assume that she never opened mine. She says that my permanent card will arrive on Friday, July 24. In a few minutes I am issued a temporary replacement card. I use it in the grocery store an hour later and it is “denied”.
Monday, July 27- I go to the my Sebastopol Citibank and ask them if the card has arrived. There is a problem. I also tell them that my temporary card does not work. Marisol tries to issue me another and then says that it is a problem with her computer. She hands me over to another agent, who goes through all of the bells and whistles to issue me a new card. I ask for a temporary card in the mean time. He says that he is afraid that it will interfere with the issue of my permanent card. We exchange goodbyes. “Thank you, Eric.”, he says.
Wednesday, July 29- Marisol gives me my permanent Citicard Gold Card. She says that it is ready to go because I have made it operational on her machine. I go outside and check it on the bank’s ATM. It doesn’t work. In fact after trying to use it, the ATM shows a large “fix me” icon (wrench and screwdriver). I come in and Marisol insists that it will work if I use it at any other store or ATM. I go to another grocery store and again the card is “denied”.
Thursday, July 30- I am at Costco in Santa Rosa. I call Citibank’s toll free number. Justine helps me. After verifying my identity he tells me why it won’t work and says that he can fix it. After that I try it at Costco. It works! Finally.
Sincerely,
Edward Lynch
Friday, July 31, 2009
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Last Message from Europe
I took a late flight last night from Prague, made even later by a two hour delay. I arrived at Victoria Station at about 1:30 AM. The crowd from the Gatwick Express had to be let out of a locked gate. As I came out two guys are brawling with each other. A girl is screaming "Stop them, stop them!" and plunges herself into the middle of the fray. Trying to pull the idiots appart, one butts the head of another. Pure stupidity. That was my introduction to London. A few days ago, a German friend I met in Prague said he was near the main square when he saw some British young idiots attacking Czech policemen. He said that eventually there were about eight Brits and fourty policemen in a brawl. What is this about the British? In all of my time in Russian, I never saw so much as one argument. I heard a lot of Russians laughing, maybe playfully arguing, even drunk asleep on the pavement, but no violence.
Just a few reflections on my trip. My greatest times while traveling was staying in hostles. Because I am alone I am always longing for social contact. Not only is the staff of all the hostiles very friendly, I always meet young people from all over the world. It makes me wonder, why do people stay in hotels?
In Prague it was no exception. I met two nice German guys who showed me the greatest Czech resturant in Prague. One evening about 10 other Germans joined us. We drank good Czech beer and I listened to them give good natured ribbings about the Germans fo the north, the Swabish, the East Germans, the accents. One guy in particular loved Johnny Cash and I had to sing "Walk the Line" twice for him.
The next day I met a large group from Bulgaria who were on their way to a music festival. I played for them some of Donna's group Zora singing Bulgarian music(by the way one of the young women was named Zoranita after her Grandmother, Zora). One said, "There is no way of telling whether this group is Bulgarian or not. It sounds very authentic." I would call that a high complement.
Late night I watched an international group play drinking games (not my style) while they kept asking me if I knew another Beatles song, or a Rolling Stones song, or Bob Dylan- It was great fun.
So I am signing off for now. I probably will write more soon but from a California location. By the way, is no one left reading this blog?
Just a few reflections on my trip. My greatest times while traveling was staying in hostles. Because I am alone I am always longing for social contact. Not only is the staff of all the hostiles very friendly, I always meet young people from all over the world. It makes me wonder, why do people stay in hotels?
In Prague it was no exception. I met two nice German guys who showed me the greatest Czech resturant in Prague. One evening about 10 other Germans joined us. We drank good Czech beer and I listened to them give good natured ribbings about the Germans fo the north, the Swabish, the East Germans, the accents. One guy in particular loved Johnny Cash and I had to sing "Walk the Line" twice for him.
The next day I met a large group from Bulgaria who were on their way to a music festival. I played for them some of Donna's group Zora singing Bulgarian music(by the way one of the young women was named Zoranita after her Grandmother, Zora). One said, "There is no way of telling whether this group is Bulgarian or not. It sounds very authentic." I would call that a high complement.
Late night I watched an international group play drinking games (not my style) while they kept asking me if I knew another Beatles song, or a Rolling Stones song, or Bob Dylan- It was great fun.
So I am signing off for now. I probably will write more soon but from a California location. By the way, is no one left reading this blog?
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Again Krakow and Prague (Maybe)
I am curious just how many people are reading this blog. I sent out a mass email informing friends that I would be doing it. Barring places where I could find no Internet Cafes, I think that I have been pretty faithful. Donna tell me that I have a few fans, but I would love it if you would email me if you have be reading it and maybe with a few comments. (only positive comments of course)
Krakow- I thought that I could walk from the train station to my hotel, as the guidebook that I am using shows the distance as fairly short. I walked through a green thin park and asked two young women for directions. This was actually the extent of my social interactions in Krakow, if I don't count the my waiter and Kristina at the hotel. They were anxious to help, and of course lovely brown skin, one in a white dress the other in jeans with a stylish red top. They told me to board a tram and take it two stops. I pulled out some coins to try and ask them how much the tram cost. They started saying, "Oh, no, please no." They thought that I was trying to pay them for their help. They obviously don't know me very well.
I got close to my destination and asked another young woman, but she was not sure. She says in perfect English, "I've lived here my whole life and I'm not sure where it is." She steered me in the right direction and I found the hotel in the Jewish Quarter of Old town or Stare Miasto. It was home to about 68,000 Jews before World War II and now reported to be around 100. I think that most of that 100 are actually Orthodox Jews from Israel visiting the city, as I saw many in the area when I was there.
I showered and then made my way to the center- Ryanik Glowney, a large piazza lined with outdoor restaurants, large umbrellas advertising Polish beers and crowds of tourists. The old city is surround by a green ring. My thought is that it was part of the old city wall that has since been torn down. An impressive Romanesque/ Gothic Cathedral towers over the square. An arrow in from point to the entrance for tourist. And another sign that cautions "This entrance is only for worshipers." You of course know which entrance I took.
You must rely on my description, however limited to describe this church- There is something called late Baroque. It actually boarders on the Rococo, excessive flourishes of little angels, cloth, and stars. The overall motif is silver and black. The massive crucifix hanging in the middle of the church is the size of a two story building.
The square and streets nearby are crowded with tourists who seem to be looking for something to do. So there is a dearth of street performers- guitar strummers, faux mono chromed mimes- Victorian couples, King Arthur, pale statues the works- vie for the attention of the crowds. I heard a spirted group of young people singing from a block or two away. They attracted a large crowd. Their enthusiasm was contagious, their harmonies sweet. With that 4th interval from Balkan music it was enticing to watch them. I listened attentively to their second piece. I heard the word "Jesu" and immediately became suspicious. Were these just a bunch a Jesus freaks? I am so jaded.
I dipped into my guidebook again and saw that the Wawel Castle is really the place to see. I took the ten minute walk to the castle and an imposing red brick wall guarded a group of buildings and a cathedral. The Wawel Cathedral is the burial place of the Polish kings and later the Catholic hierarchy in Poland. The center of the church is dominated by a silver casket, supposedly with the remains of Wadislaw who died in 1156 (I am guessing, but close.). Also buried there is Stanaslaw, another king known as "the short", another "the old", "the lion", "the brave" and so on. My audio tour cautioned me: "You may now want to climb to the bell tower. But if you are not in a healthy condition, beware of the 46 steep stairs. If you need to come down, just turn around..." Truly. Fourty six steps, that's nothing. I remember the climb to the Duoma in Florence. I think that it was 146 steps and no one ever warned me about that climb.
That evening I dined at a little restaurant just across from my hotel. I asked the waiter for his recommendation. "Try the Hungarian pie", he said. Delicious. Beef with a light red creamy sauce over a large potato pancake. He was very late with my beer and he apologized saying, "It is my first day." Just after I got my food I saw him dart out the front gate, never to return. I later asked the waitress what happened to him. She said, "It's his first day."
I walked the streets of the Jewish Quarter for about an hour looking for live music and found none. I headed again to the main square and found Harry's Piano Jazz Bar. The music was lively and even hot with a tenor sax player whined and squealed such sweet music. Caravan, Kind of Blue, Summertime were just a few of the pieces. Then double saxes and a new drummer- very satisfying.
I am rambling. I took the train the next morning to Prague- an eight hour ride. Why so long, I am not sure. Outside the train two Irish girls argued loudly with each other, "If you hadn't stayed out so late..." "I am just expecting you to help me because I would help you..." and on and on. I had two cabin mates from Denmark. They both spoke very good English. In the first hour we could smell something strange. It reminded me of my electric trains when they overheated. The smell got stronger. One of the guys pointed his camera out the window and showed me a great deal of smoke coming from the breaks of our car. We stopped at a station and the various train employees inspected the brakes. It was actually an asbestos smoke from the break linings. (So you know who to sew when I die young- rather prematurely- maybe I am too old...) They must have just eliminated the breaks from this particular train. The malfunctioning part was just below our cabin.
Prague (or Praha)
From the start I have to say that even among the hoards of tourists here, Prague is one of the most gorgeous cities I have ever seen in my life. The river setting, the parks, the towering steeples, the seventeenth century architecture. I hardly know where to begin. It is packed with churches built between 1100 and 1700. Each church has its own interesting facets. But not only the churches but also the combinations of buildings, the red tile roofs, the coblestone streets, the many statues and art works all around the city. Please put it on your list.
It is getting very late, so I have only one more thing to report. I visited a private museum in the castle today. It is owned by a family related to Spanish kings and Slavic dignitaries who rubbed elbows with the Hamburgs. I listened to a one hour classical concert in one of the drawing rooms, flute, viola and piano. This family lost everything under the Nazi's and then regained it from 1946 to 1949. Then they lost it all again under the Soviet system and the family moved to Boston. Finally when Vaclav Havel became president, they applied to regain the family properties again. They were given back their confiscated possessions- an amazing array of artifacts- hundreds of 16th and 17th century paintings including a few Van Dykes, a Velasquez, a Bruegel, the largest collection of 17th century firearms in the Czech Republic, tapestries, rare ceramics, musical instruments, the original musical score of Handel's Messiah re scored in the hand of Mozart, two handwritten symphonies by Beethoven. I saw all of this and more today.
Krakow- I thought that I could walk from the train station to my hotel, as the guidebook that I am using shows the distance as fairly short. I walked through a green thin park and asked two young women for directions. This was actually the extent of my social interactions in Krakow, if I don't count the my waiter and Kristina at the hotel. They were anxious to help, and of course lovely brown skin, one in a white dress the other in jeans with a stylish red top. They told me to board a tram and take it two stops. I pulled out some coins to try and ask them how much the tram cost. They started saying, "Oh, no, please no." They thought that I was trying to pay them for their help. They obviously don't know me very well.
I got close to my destination and asked another young woman, but she was not sure. She says in perfect English, "I've lived here my whole life and I'm not sure where it is." She steered me in the right direction and I found the hotel in the Jewish Quarter of Old town or Stare Miasto. It was home to about 68,000 Jews before World War II and now reported to be around 100. I think that most of that 100 are actually Orthodox Jews from Israel visiting the city, as I saw many in the area when I was there.
I showered and then made my way to the center- Ryanik Glowney, a large piazza lined with outdoor restaurants, large umbrellas advertising Polish beers and crowds of tourists. The old city is surround by a green ring. My thought is that it was part of the old city wall that has since been torn down. An impressive Romanesque/ Gothic Cathedral towers over the square. An arrow in from point to the entrance for tourist. And another sign that cautions "This entrance is only for worshipers." You of course know which entrance I took.
You must rely on my description, however limited to describe this church- There is something called late Baroque. It actually boarders on the Rococo, excessive flourishes of little angels, cloth, and stars. The overall motif is silver and black. The massive crucifix hanging in the middle of the church is the size of a two story building.
The square and streets nearby are crowded with tourists who seem to be looking for something to do. So there is a dearth of street performers- guitar strummers, faux mono chromed mimes- Victorian couples, King Arthur, pale statues the works- vie for the attention of the crowds. I heard a spirted group of young people singing from a block or two away. They attracted a large crowd. Their enthusiasm was contagious, their harmonies sweet. With that 4th interval from Balkan music it was enticing to watch them. I listened attentively to their second piece. I heard the word "Jesu" and immediately became suspicious. Were these just a bunch a Jesus freaks? I am so jaded.
I dipped into my guidebook again and saw that the Wawel Castle is really the place to see. I took the ten minute walk to the castle and an imposing red brick wall guarded a group of buildings and a cathedral. The Wawel Cathedral is the burial place of the Polish kings and later the Catholic hierarchy in Poland. The center of the church is dominated by a silver casket, supposedly with the remains of Wadislaw who died in 1156 (I am guessing, but close.). Also buried there is Stanaslaw, another king known as "the short", another "the old", "the lion", "the brave" and so on. My audio tour cautioned me: "You may now want to climb to the bell tower. But if you are not in a healthy condition, beware of the 46 steep stairs. If you need to come down, just turn around..." Truly. Fourty six steps, that's nothing. I remember the climb to the Duoma in Florence. I think that it was 146 steps and no one ever warned me about that climb.
That evening I dined at a little restaurant just across from my hotel. I asked the waiter for his recommendation. "Try the Hungarian pie", he said. Delicious. Beef with a light red creamy sauce over a large potato pancake. He was very late with my beer and he apologized saying, "It is my first day." Just after I got my food I saw him dart out the front gate, never to return. I later asked the waitress what happened to him. She said, "It's his first day."
I walked the streets of the Jewish Quarter for about an hour looking for live music and found none. I headed again to the main square and found Harry's Piano Jazz Bar. The music was lively and even hot with a tenor sax player whined and squealed such sweet music. Caravan, Kind of Blue, Summertime were just a few of the pieces. Then double saxes and a new drummer- very satisfying.
I am rambling. I took the train the next morning to Prague- an eight hour ride. Why so long, I am not sure. Outside the train two Irish girls argued loudly with each other, "If you hadn't stayed out so late..." "I am just expecting you to help me because I would help you..." and on and on. I had two cabin mates from Denmark. They both spoke very good English. In the first hour we could smell something strange. It reminded me of my electric trains when they overheated. The smell got stronger. One of the guys pointed his camera out the window and showed me a great deal of smoke coming from the breaks of our car. We stopped at a station and the various train employees inspected the brakes. It was actually an asbestos smoke from the break linings. (So you know who to sew when I die young- rather prematurely- maybe I am too old...) They must have just eliminated the breaks from this particular train. The malfunctioning part was just below our cabin.
Prague (or Praha)
From the start I have to say that even among the hoards of tourists here, Prague is one of the most gorgeous cities I have ever seen in my life. The river setting, the parks, the towering steeples, the seventeenth century architecture. I hardly know where to begin. It is packed with churches built between 1100 and 1700. Each church has its own interesting facets. But not only the churches but also the combinations of buildings, the red tile roofs, the coblestone streets, the many statues and art works all around the city. Please put it on your list.
It is getting very late, so I have only one more thing to report. I visited a private museum in the castle today. It is owned by a family related to Spanish kings and Slavic dignitaries who rubbed elbows with the Hamburgs. I listened to a one hour classical concert in one of the drawing rooms, flute, viola and piano. This family lost everything under the Nazi's and then regained it from 1946 to 1949. Then they lost it all again under the Soviet system and the family moved to Boston. Finally when Vaclav Havel became president, they applied to regain the family properties again. They were given back their confiscated possessions- an amazing array of artifacts- hundreds of 16th and 17th century paintings including a few Van Dykes, a Velasquez, a Bruegel, the largest collection of 17th century firearms in the Czech Republic, tapestries, rare ceramics, musical instruments, the original musical score of Handel's Messiah re scored in the hand of Mozart, two handwritten symphonies by Beethoven. I saw all of this and more today.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Krakow and Prague
I found out that there is no train from Riga to Krakow or even Riga to Warsaw. I was warned that I would start seeing lots of nuns from the time I entered Poland. Not only Poland, but the several nuns boarded the bus with me and a few other lay people. I boarded a bus headed for Warsaw, Poland. Leaving at 9:30 PM, it was due to arrive in Warsaw at 8:30 AM. Hmmm, eleven hours on a bus, I wasn't sure that I could endure an all nighter of that nature. Nevertheless, my dear wife left me with just the drug to deal with the situation- Ambian. I popped it almost immediately as I sat down on the bus. There were two bus drivers and no potty on board. The alternate bus driver had just the anti- sleeping potient to combat my secret elixer. He pops in a copy of "Big Stan" in the DVD player on the bus. (Short review: Don't waste your time!)
You must experience this. An American movie plays with barely audible English and a huskey voiced Pole translating the whole movie, dialogue by dialogue, word by word. It was hard to endure and kept me awake more than an hour even with the Ambien. But finally sleep ensued.
I work to bright sun in my face and looked at my watch. It said 2 AM. I feel asleep again and awoke to the bright sun and my watch still saying 2 AM. As you may have guessed, my watch stopped. My train was to leave the main train station and the person who sold me the bus tickets told me to ask the bus driver if he would stop at the main train station before driving a mile farther in Warsaw to the main bus station. I tried to talk Polish to the sister sitting next to me. (Really, I know no Polish- only a little Russian- and I hear Russian ticks off the Poles.) With the aid of a map she communicated to the bus drive and he answered with a firm "Ney!"
Consequently I had to board a rush hour bus and tool it back to the train station. The train station in the center of time is just left of arguably the ugliest building in Eastern Europe. Designed by Stalin in the mid- 30's, it is the tallest Soviet pre- modern "Ugly" monstrosity. A building that the Polish have a love/ hate relationship with, I am told. They love to hate it.
I arrived in Krakow about 2 PM, quickly found my cute hotel in the Jewish Quarter. Introduced myself to the famous Kristine with whom I have had an intermittent email correspondance with. "I will arrive on.... stay for three nights..."; my next email: " I will arrive on ... and stay for two nights..."; my next email: "I am sorry I underestimated the time it would take me to travel to Krakow.... I can only stay one night..." And Kristina write to me, "and you can only find the time to visit our beautiful city for one night?" I gave her one of my California key ring gift (Made in China) to try and sooth the hurt feelings.
I am torn. There is a line to use the Internet here at the hostle in Prague. I must tell of my whirlwind tour of Prague, then the hazzardous trip on the train from Krakow to Prague. But I think that you must wait for that story for another time.
Bye.
You must experience this. An American movie plays with barely audible English and a huskey voiced Pole translating the whole movie, dialogue by dialogue, word by word. It was hard to endure and kept me awake more than an hour even with the Ambien. But finally sleep ensued.
I work to bright sun in my face and looked at my watch. It said 2 AM. I feel asleep again and awoke to the bright sun and my watch still saying 2 AM. As you may have guessed, my watch stopped. My train was to leave the main train station and the person who sold me the bus tickets told me to ask the bus driver if he would stop at the main train station before driving a mile farther in Warsaw to the main bus station. I tried to talk Polish to the sister sitting next to me. (Really, I know no Polish- only a little Russian- and I hear Russian ticks off the Poles.) With the aid of a map she communicated to the bus drive and he answered with a firm "Ney!"
Consequently I had to board a rush hour bus and tool it back to the train station. The train station in the center of time is just left of arguably the ugliest building in Eastern Europe. Designed by Stalin in the mid- 30's, it is the tallest Soviet pre- modern "Ugly" monstrosity. A building that the Polish have a love/ hate relationship with, I am told. They love to hate it.
I arrived in Krakow about 2 PM, quickly found my cute hotel in the Jewish Quarter. Introduced myself to the famous Kristine with whom I have had an intermittent email correspondance with. "I will arrive on.... stay for three nights..."; my next email: " I will arrive on ... and stay for two nights..."; my next email: "I am sorry I underestimated the time it would take me to travel to Krakow.... I can only stay one night..." And Kristina write to me, "and you can only find the time to visit our beautiful city for one night?" I gave her one of my California key ring gift (Made in China) to try and sooth the hurt feelings.
I am torn. There is a line to use the Internet here at the hostle in Prague. I must tell of my whirlwind tour of Prague, then the hazzardous trip on the train from Krakow to Prague. But I think that you must wait for that story for another time.
Bye.
Monday, July 13, 2009
Reflections on Riga
I have been in Riga three days now. I am missing human contact. The people are friendly but a little business like. Other than my guide on Saturday and one American I just met at the museum, I really haven't talked with anyone since my conversations on the train with Katya.
The young women in Riga are beautiful. Almost all have blond hair and a medium build, often tall and brown. The favored language seems to be Russian. I was told that the population is something like 60% Latvian 40% Russian. From the conversations I hear more speak Russian. Certainly there are some Russian tourists, but many young people who actually live here speak Russian and use it in their every day speech. The Latvian language has a lilt similar to Swedish but much softer. Latvian is related to Lithawainian and that language Germans used to speak around Kalinigrad (now extinct).
I find myself using Russian now instead of English to ask questions. At the market I was buying something and I said "It's for my wife." in Russian then "Skolka?" - or "How much?" I caught the "disat" which means 10 but I didn't catch the number next to it- It could have been 11 to 19- I said "da". Turns out it was 15 Lats or $30. Most people I have had minor contact with speak some English and on the whole, I think it is better to speak English. There is still some bitterness amongst some about the Russian occupation for 50 years.
That's another issue, the money. It is the highest value of all European money. But the prices are more reasonable than in England or France. I would say for the most part, comparable to the dollar, maybe a little less. For example, using this internet now I am paying only .80 Lat which is about $1.60. In France I paid two Euro for a half hour. That is about $6.00 an hour. One other thing I found I must watch out for is the coins. There is a 2 Lat coin- worth obviously $4. I received two Lithuanian "two's" as change instead of Lats. It turns out that those coins are worth about 20 cents. So I lost $3.60 without knowing it until I was informed by a woman in a store.
Today is Monday. In general for travelers, if you like museums it is a bad day. I had intended to go to the top of St. Peter's the highest point in the old city to get a view. But it was closed, along with most museums. I sat in the park for a bit then walked to get a cappicino then another. There are days I have no coffee. Today I have had one expresso and two cappicino's already. Look out! This may be a very long blog. My second cappicino was just an excuse to sit in the square and sketch.
In wandering around I came across the Riga Cathedral (or Duoma) and it was open. I had taken it for a Catholic Church by its interior- stainglass windows, holy water, altar facing the people and numerous images and icons. It was built in 1257 and survived Hiter's bombing but had several other casualties in its history as most buildings in the city. Attached to it is a midievil monastic courtyard that hold many artifacts from the past 500 years- probably 100 canons give by Catherine the Great to Riga, clock faces, decorative statues from the faces of torn down churches, iron work, tools, cannon balls and so on. The cathedral also contains the largest pipe organ in the Baltics.
Wouldn't luck have it. The museum that I looked for the first day was next to the cathedral and was open. The National Marine History of Riga. It is actually an archelogical and historical museum. Since Riga is near the Baltic, much of its history has to do with the sea, but it had many artifacts more than 3000 years old as well as pieces covering its formal history beginning in 1201 A.D.
And one more thing, the weather. It is changeable. Changeable means that it can be bright and sunny and in ten minutes a black cloud can move in and provide a downpour. The downpour may last ten minutes or an hour, but it usually clears. Last night it was pouring rain for maybe three hours. Today it is gorgeous, maybe 75 degrees F.
At this moment I am waiting out the time that I will take a bus to Warsaw. It leaves 10 PM and will arrive at Warsaw at 8 AM. I have a little pink pill set aside just for this purpose. On the train I was horozonal for the all nighter; for this one I will be semi vertical and I will make sure that I sleep. I stay in Warsaw just long enough to take a train to Krakow. My great regret is that I can only stay in Krakow for one night.
It is time to stop. I told you that the coffee would have a deliterious effect.
The young women in Riga are beautiful. Almost all have blond hair and a medium build, often tall and brown. The favored language seems to be Russian. I was told that the population is something like 60% Latvian 40% Russian. From the conversations I hear more speak Russian. Certainly there are some Russian tourists, but many young people who actually live here speak Russian and use it in their every day speech. The Latvian language has a lilt similar to Swedish but much softer. Latvian is related to Lithawainian and that language Germans used to speak around Kalinigrad (now extinct).
I find myself using Russian now instead of English to ask questions. At the market I was buying something and I said "It's for my wife." in Russian then "Skolka?" - or "How much?" I caught the "disat" which means 10 but I didn't catch the number next to it- It could have been 11 to 19- I said "da". Turns out it was 15 Lats or $30. Most people I have had minor contact with speak some English and on the whole, I think it is better to speak English. There is still some bitterness amongst some about the Russian occupation for 50 years.
That's another issue, the money. It is the highest value of all European money. But the prices are more reasonable than in England or France. I would say for the most part, comparable to the dollar, maybe a little less. For example, using this internet now I am paying only .80 Lat which is about $1.60. In France I paid two Euro for a half hour. That is about $6.00 an hour. One other thing I found I must watch out for is the coins. There is a 2 Lat coin- worth obviously $4. I received two Lithuanian "two's" as change instead of Lats. It turns out that those coins are worth about 20 cents. So I lost $3.60 without knowing it until I was informed by a woman in a store.
Today is Monday. In general for travelers, if you like museums it is a bad day. I had intended to go to the top of St. Peter's the highest point in the old city to get a view. But it was closed, along with most museums. I sat in the park for a bit then walked to get a cappicino then another. There are days I have no coffee. Today I have had one expresso and two cappicino's already. Look out! This may be a very long blog. My second cappicino was just an excuse to sit in the square and sketch.
In wandering around I came across the Riga Cathedral (or Duoma) and it was open. I had taken it for a Catholic Church by its interior- stainglass windows, holy water, altar facing the people and numerous images and icons. It was built in 1257 and survived Hiter's bombing but had several other casualties in its history as most buildings in the city. Attached to it is a midievil monastic courtyard that hold many artifacts from the past 500 years- probably 100 canons give by Catherine the Great to Riga, clock faces, decorative statues from the faces of torn down churches, iron work, tools, cannon balls and so on. The cathedral also contains the largest pipe organ in the Baltics.
Wouldn't luck have it. The museum that I looked for the first day was next to the cathedral and was open. The National Marine History of Riga. It is actually an archelogical and historical museum. Since Riga is near the Baltic, much of its history has to do with the sea, but it had many artifacts more than 3000 years old as well as pieces covering its formal history beginning in 1201 A.D.
And one more thing, the weather. It is changeable. Changeable means that it can be bright and sunny and in ten minutes a black cloud can move in and provide a downpour. The downpour may last ten minutes or an hour, but it usually clears. Last night it was pouring rain for maybe three hours. Today it is gorgeous, maybe 75 degrees F.
At this moment I am waiting out the time that I will take a bus to Warsaw. It leaves 10 PM and will arrive at Warsaw at 8 AM. I have a little pink pill set aside just for this purpose. On the train I was horozonal for the all nighter; for this one I will be semi vertical and I will make sure that I sleep. I stay in Warsaw just long enough to take a train to Krakow. My great regret is that I can only stay in Krakow for one night.
It is time to stop. I told you that the coffee would have a deliterious effect.
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Riga, Latvia
Hey, I am in the present time!
My last day in Moscow was very mellow. I took an early walk to a Cathedral of the Holy Savior. It is built on the scale of the great Italian Duomas. It was originally build around 1820 to commemorate Russia's victory over Nepoleon. It is enormous. But in 1935 Stalin tore it down. Then he built a community swimming pool on the spot. - Unbelievable! Then in about 1990 some people started to raise money to rebuild it and they did.
After that walk I found a French cafe, of the type we were trying to find in Paris- great coffee, great expresso (I had one of each.) and wonderful bread- I had something called a flute that had those hazelnuts and raisins in it, Also a Danish- spelled in Russian with those exact Cerrilic (sp) letters. I found out that they are a chain and my waitress thought that there was actually one in Los Angeles. I am certain that a cafe like that would do well almost anywhere.
I took the 9 PM train out of Moscow last night. It was great. I purchased one of those tickets with a sleeper. It is a typical Russian train, except in this case it was a Latvian train. All of the bunks are open. Basicly the train is nothing but sleeping sections and there is someone sleeping next to you, above and across the corordor. I was lucky enough to have a Russian young woman who spoke English as my neighbor. We chatted in the train for about two hours, then lights go out and everyone gets into their bunk and goes to sleep. I slept well but awoke at 6 AM. She is both a student and works for the statistics office of the Russian government. She is a smart cookie. Her mother and father are both Russian but grew up in Latvia and she was visiting her grandparents in Riga. I even met them. It is remarkable how much you can find out about a person after 16 hours on a train- really only 8 hours because I was sleeping for about 8. She has a boyfriend she met at her office. She loves him very much. He is shy and 12 years older. He just had an operation on his brain because of an annurism, but he is OK. Her mother lives in Malta, and married a man from Tunisa who is not so strictly Muslim. But according to Katya (her name) her mother has a terrible accent when she speaks English. I could go on an on. Because she was quite a talker, but I enjoyed it and it was a great way to spend a long train ride. I could tell you her life story but maybe you don't want to hear it and the time is running down on my Internet.
I am in Riga, Latvia now- beautiful little town and I am staying at a nice hotel. It is pouring rain on and off. I just had a nice tour of the city- just one to one because I was the only one to show up for the tour at 6 PM. It was a nice way to get a feel for the city which is very walkable- at least in the "old city". The city originated in 1201 but most buildings were built later because the city has gone through any number of attacks, from Poles, Swedes, Russians and Germans. The Germans bombed the whole center square in 1941, so building and churches that were 600 years old were destroyed, but most have been rebuilt.
I visited a museum dedicated to the Soviet occupation. There is still a prejudice against Russians here from the Soviet times. Yet more people speak Russian than Latvian- although I think that most speak both. The population is roughly equal between the percentage of Russians and the percentage of Latvian. This museum contains some Russian prejudice and I confirmed it with my guide today. I noticed that much of the text is in four languages, but when there are three- Russian is left out. The clincher was when I used the toilet and in three languages it said something like "Please do not throw paper in the toilet." or something like that. But there was no translation in Russian. So now when someone clogs the toilet, they can blame the Russians.
It nice to back to the Roman Alphabet again- but I only know one word in Latvian - OK, maybe I don't know one word in Latvian- I wrote it down "somewhere" now I can't find it. My guide was teaching me how to pronounce things- their c is like in Russian- most letters are straightforward- well "j" is like "h" like Spanish and their vowels have little squigglies in all kinds of places which change the sound- well maybe not so easy to read.
I am sorry, no deep insights tonight.
My last day in Moscow was very mellow. I took an early walk to a Cathedral of the Holy Savior. It is built on the scale of the great Italian Duomas. It was originally build around 1820 to commemorate Russia's victory over Nepoleon. It is enormous. But in 1935 Stalin tore it down. Then he built a community swimming pool on the spot. - Unbelievable! Then in about 1990 some people started to raise money to rebuild it and they did.
After that walk I found a French cafe, of the type we were trying to find in Paris- great coffee, great expresso (I had one of each.) and wonderful bread- I had something called a flute that had those hazelnuts and raisins in it, Also a Danish- spelled in Russian with those exact Cerrilic (sp) letters. I found out that they are a chain and my waitress thought that there was actually one in Los Angeles. I am certain that a cafe like that would do well almost anywhere.
I took the 9 PM train out of Moscow last night. It was great. I purchased one of those tickets with a sleeper. It is a typical Russian train, except in this case it was a Latvian train. All of the bunks are open. Basicly the train is nothing but sleeping sections and there is someone sleeping next to you, above and across the corordor. I was lucky enough to have a Russian young woman who spoke English as my neighbor. We chatted in the train for about two hours, then lights go out and everyone gets into their bunk and goes to sleep. I slept well but awoke at 6 AM. She is both a student and works for the statistics office of the Russian government. She is a smart cookie. Her mother and father are both Russian but grew up in Latvia and she was visiting her grandparents in Riga. I even met them. It is remarkable how much you can find out about a person after 16 hours on a train- really only 8 hours because I was sleeping for about 8. She has a boyfriend she met at her office. She loves him very much. He is shy and 12 years older. He just had an operation on his brain because of an annurism, but he is OK. Her mother lives in Malta, and married a man from Tunisa who is not so strictly Muslim. But according to Katya (her name) her mother has a terrible accent when she speaks English. I could go on an on. Because she was quite a talker, but I enjoyed it and it was a great way to spend a long train ride. I could tell you her life story but maybe you don't want to hear it and the time is running down on my Internet.
I am in Riga, Latvia now- beautiful little town and I am staying at a nice hotel. It is pouring rain on and off. I just had a nice tour of the city- just one to one because I was the only one to show up for the tour at 6 PM. It was a nice way to get a feel for the city which is very walkable- at least in the "old city". The city originated in 1201 but most buildings were built later because the city has gone through any number of attacks, from Poles, Swedes, Russians and Germans. The Germans bombed the whole center square in 1941, so building and churches that were 600 years old were destroyed, but most have been rebuilt.
I visited a museum dedicated to the Soviet occupation. There is still a prejudice against Russians here from the Soviet times. Yet more people speak Russian than Latvian- although I think that most speak both. The population is roughly equal between the percentage of Russians and the percentage of Latvian. This museum contains some Russian prejudice and I confirmed it with my guide today. I noticed that much of the text is in four languages, but when there are three- Russian is left out. The clincher was when I used the toilet and in three languages it said something like "Please do not throw paper in the toilet." or something like that. But there was no translation in Russian. So now when someone clogs the toilet, they can blame the Russians.
It nice to back to the Roman Alphabet again- but I only know one word in Latvian - OK, maybe I don't know one word in Latvian- I wrote it down "somewhere" now I can't find it. My guide was teaching me how to pronounce things- their c is like in Russian- most letters are straightforward- well "j" is like "h" like Spanish and their vowels have little squigglies in all kinds of places which change the sound- well maybe not so easy to read.
I am sorry, no deep insights tonight.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Trying to bring you up to date
I sit at a computer at the hostel in Moscow today. I take an overnight train to Riga, Latvia tonight at nine. I try to think of a way that I can update you with all of the things that have happened to me in the past week. I have only about five minutes left on the timer to do it.
Rest assured, my banking situation is better- emergency funds from Donna, then a very apologetic letter from citibank. It is as if all employees with brains left for holiday during fourth of July weekend and did not come back. So, the money front is good.
I spend four lovely days in Kostroma- a small city on the Volga with beautiful beaches, friendly people who do not speak English and two incredible Monastaries. It was also a time for me to rest a little after my trials.
I then went to the town of Vladimir- accent on the second syllable. It rained hard the whole time- There is a lovely little church built in 1200 where a woman gave me a tour all in Russian. She wouldn't stop. I could not understand a word. See you next time, gotta go.
Rest assured, my banking situation is better- emergency funds from Donna, then a very apologetic letter from citibank. It is as if all employees with brains left for holiday during fourth of July weekend and did not come back. So, the money front is good.
I spend four lovely days in Kostroma- a small city on the Volga with beautiful beaches, friendly people who do not speak English and two incredible Monastaries. It was also a time for me to rest a little after my trials.
I then went to the town of Vladimir- accent on the second syllable. It rained hard the whole time- There is a lovely little church built in 1200 where a woman gave me a tour all in Russian. She wouldn't stop. I could not understand a word. See you next time, gotta go.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Yaroslavl
(I have received monetary relief from my wife, Donna. Thank You.)
I believe that I left you in Rastov. I took a train to the next city, Yaroslavl. It is a big beautiful Russian city about 65 miles north east of Moscow. Though asking questions of some young people (maybe in there 20's) I was invited to visit one's flat having picked up some groceries at the local Supermarket. There were five of us and later - much later four of us, along with the groceries several bottles of wine.
One of them Olga spoke very good English. The others, not too much English and me not too much Russian. I was invited as is customary to the kitchen, where all the food was laid out and we ate. Then we played a well known card game in Russia called "Fool". Needless to say they are all very good at this game and I am very bad. But the evening continued on and on until I look at my watch, it is 4 AM! I took a cab back to my hotel and had a good sleep.
I believe that I left you in Rastov. I took a train to the next city, Yaroslavl. It is a big beautiful Russian city about 65 miles north east of Moscow. Though asking questions of some young people (maybe in there 20's) I was invited to visit one's flat having picked up some groceries at the local Supermarket. There were five of us and later - much later four of us, along with the groceries several bottles of wine.
One of them Olga spoke very good English. The others, not too much English and me not too much Russian. I was invited as is customary to the kitchen, where all the food was laid out and we ate. Then we played a well known card game in Russia called "Fool". Needless to say they are all very good at this game and I am very bad. But the evening continued on and on until I look at my watch, it is 4 AM! I took a cab back to my hotel and had a good sleep.
Pay No Attention to Time
I am standing over a group of fountains at Alexander Gardens near the Kremlin wall. I watch an endless stream of Russian tourists pose with a large bronze statue of an old man looking into the mouth of a fish. I think that I remember some of the story at least. The poor old man finally catches a fish. There is a conversation between the fish and the man and the fish makes the man a promise if the man will release him. The fish opens its mouth and there the man finds a gold coin. Perhaps you can fill in the rest of the story.
Each person poses with his or her individual gestures and arrangement. One holds the old man's arm tightly and leans forwards, another girl pretends to kiss the old man, another makes an obscene gesture for the two in the camera, still another jumps into the old man's arms. The old man's arm is worn and shiny, polished bronze from the touch of so many poses with visitors.
Two giddy teenage girls push each other close to the water. First their feet are in, then up to their knees in water, then they are swimming in the fountain. They are laughing and lightly jabbing each other with light-hearted arguing. A Moscow police man nearby eyes them coldly but quietly.
The girls get out of the water and disappear for a short time then show up below me, climbing to the top of another bronze sculpture of the fox and grapes. Some boys are photographing them. The girls twist and turn lithely up, up to the top of the statue then quickly down. They disappear again, shortly to show up at some small gentle falls that that are tiered in different levels. They take turns sitting on a flat wet tear making sexy poses of each other, laughing and taking turns. They disappear again.
Each person poses with his or her individual gestures and arrangement. One holds the old man's arm tightly and leans forwards, another girl pretends to kiss the old man, another makes an obscene gesture for the two in the camera, still another jumps into the old man's arms. The old man's arm is worn and shiny, polished bronze from the touch of so many poses with visitors.
Two giddy teenage girls push each other close to the water. First their feet are in, then up to their knees in water, then they are swimming in the fountain. They are laughing and lightly jabbing each other with light-hearted arguing. A Moscow police man nearby eyes them coldly but quietly.
The girls get out of the water and disappear for a short time then show up below me, climbing to the top of another bronze sculpture of the fox and grapes. Some boys are photographing them. The girls twist and turn lithely up, up to the top of the statue then quickly down. They disappear again, shortly to show up at some small gentle falls that that are tiered in different levels. They take turns sitting on a flat wet tear making sexy poses of each other, laughing and taking turns. They disappear again.
Rastov, Yaroslavl and Rubinsk
The Kremlin in Rastov is magical, still in the midst of being restored it contains six museums. The major art or craft of Rastov is enameling, mostly of traditional Russian Orthodox images. Enameling uses metal oxides of different kinds to obtain color varieties. The images are painted with these oxides and then fired and the result is a beautiful shiny, bright, glasslike appearence. It is a technique that is over one thousand years old. The Enamels in the museum were mostly 200 years old to the present. My guesthouse host are enamel artists. They have modern musuem worth works in there house. Gotta go
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Superfast Post
I have twelve minutes to post before the time runs out on this computer. Truckee, my son, called my time here a bit harrowing. If you are getting that idea. I must totally disagree. I am having the time of my life. Yes, it is sometimes difficult. Yes, it is sometimes challenging. Even sometimes I think, how will this ever work out? But I remember the movie Shakespeare in Love. When things are at their worst, the theater manager says "It will all work out." Someone says, "How?" He replies, "It's a mystery." It is truely the way I feel. I am having fun. I am in great physical condition. I am seeing a part of the world and meeting people I have never met before. It is a great experience for me. I know that sometimes my blogs my sound a little dramatic.
Now I am distracted. A group of girls from the hostle where I am staying just came in. One says to me, "Oh, you are a nateev speaker. I am happy to talk to a nateev speaker." Well, that is what I going to do next. Does that not sound like fun? My trip is full of experiences like these as well as being tongue tied at the train cashier, missing trains, walking miles with all of my gear and even losing my banking card. So, do not worry. I am fine and having fun. I am a bit behind in the blog. I am only in Rastov on the blog and have yet to talk about Yaroslavl, Rubinsk, Kostroma, Vladimir and now Moscow. So stay in touch- Donna claims I have fans. So fans, my time is running out but I've got a conversation to start.
Das Vadanya!
Now I am distracted. A group of girls from the hostle where I am staying just came in. One says to me, "Oh, you are a nateev speaker. I am happy to talk to a nateev speaker." Well, that is what I going to do next. Does that not sound like fun? My trip is full of experiences like these as well as being tongue tied at the train cashier, missing trains, walking miles with all of my gear and even losing my banking card. So, do not worry. I am fine and having fun. I am a bit behind in the blog. I am only in Rastov on the blog and have yet to talk about Yaroslavl, Rubinsk, Kostroma, Vladimir and now Moscow. So stay in touch- Donna claims I have fans. So fans, my time is running out but I've got a conversation to start.
Das Vadanya!
Monday, July 6, 2009
I missed my train in Moscow
I think that is where I left off, before my citibank insertion. I was to get to Rastov Veliky at 8:30 PM. I found some kind people at an Information desk at the train station. She wrote me a note to give to the ticket taker at Yaroslavl Station and this train would leave Moscow about 11:30 PM and arrive in Rastov at 1:30 AM.(By the way Moscow has eight major train stations within the city limits.)
When I bought my ticket at Yaroslavl station, the woman gave me a strange look. "Do you really want to buy this ticket?", she seemed to ask. And yes, it was a sleeper in first class for a two hour trip and I felt that I need that- 1700 rubles or $25. I got first class treatment, a cabin with bed all to myself and a two hour nap.
The train arrived as indicated at 1:30 AM. I took a cab- Always when you take a cab in Russia, you must ask the price first. But the problem is that when you ask for the price they hear your accent and double the price. The trouble is that there is no way arround this unless you get a Russian to make the request for you. So as usual I got ripped off taking a cab to the KORS Guest house in Russian XOPC (Pronounced HORST)At 2 AM the place was shut tight. I rang the buzzer, awoke the woman of the house and she told me to find another place.
Now in a strange city where I knew no one or nothing of the city, I was not about to trapes around with my luggage and try to find an open Gastonitza. I decided to lay down right there- in back of a protect large art sculpture that they created on the front lawn. I was immediately attacked by swarms of starving mosquitos. I opened my bag to look for my deet but it was too dark. Ah, my trusty ipod. I used it for light, retrieved my bug repellent and continued to drench myself and try to sleep.
I did not sleep. But I found that by four in the morning the attacks had stopped. Also it was beginning to get light. I left my gear in this protected place and proceeded to give myself a tour of the beautiful protected Kremlin. Rostov was a center for the government of the land around Moscow. It was a wealthy trade center for flax and linen. A city was built surrounded by walls as a center of commerce in the area. The walls only partially survive, but the buildings remain intact. Several multi-spired onion domes decorate the sky. A complex of buildings served the people of the area for about 100 years until Moscow took control of the government.
The city of Rastov is also located on beautiful little Lake Neri. It started to rain and I headed back to get my gear and hold up in a seller's stall that had been a hangout for the young drinkers of the town, the previous evening. A babusha came by to clean each stall and did not even bat an eye to see this foreigner with suitcase, bag and guitar sitting inside on of the stalls. I looked at my watch. It was 8 AM. I also saw the phone number of my guest house. I took about a half hour to use my dictionaries and write a semi-coherent version of my state. "I did not find Gastonitza. I was awake all night. Can I please come and stay at your place?" Imagine it all in bad Russian. They took mercy on me. Thus commenced my two day stay in Rastov Veliky. (Photos later)
When I bought my ticket at Yaroslavl station, the woman gave me a strange look. "Do you really want to buy this ticket?", she seemed to ask. And yes, it was a sleeper in first class for a two hour trip and I felt that I need that- 1700 rubles or $25. I got first class treatment, a cabin with bed all to myself and a two hour nap.
The train arrived as indicated at 1:30 AM. I took a cab- Always when you take a cab in Russia, you must ask the price first. But the problem is that when you ask for the price they hear your accent and double the price. The trouble is that there is no way arround this unless you get a Russian to make the request for you. So as usual I got ripped off taking a cab to the KORS Guest house in Russian XOPC (Pronounced HORST)At 2 AM the place was shut tight. I rang the buzzer, awoke the woman of the house and she told me to find another place.
Now in a strange city where I knew no one or nothing of the city, I was not about to trapes around with my luggage and try to find an open Gastonitza. I decided to lay down right there- in back of a protect large art sculpture that they created on the front lawn. I was immediately attacked by swarms of starving mosquitos. I opened my bag to look for my deet but it was too dark. Ah, my trusty ipod. I used it for light, retrieved my bug repellent and continued to drench myself and try to sleep.
I did not sleep. But I found that by four in the morning the attacks had stopped. Also it was beginning to get light. I left my gear in this protected place and proceeded to give myself a tour of the beautiful protected Kremlin. Rostov was a center for the government of the land around Moscow. It was a wealthy trade center for flax and linen. A city was built surrounded by walls as a center of commerce in the area. The walls only partially survive, but the buildings remain intact. Several multi-spired onion domes decorate the sky. A complex of buildings served the people of the area for about 100 years until Moscow took control of the government.
The city of Rastov is also located on beautiful little Lake Neri. It started to rain and I headed back to get my gear and hold up in a seller's stall that had been a hangout for the young drinkers of the town, the previous evening. A babusha came by to clean each stall and did not even bat an eye to see this foreigner with suitcase, bag and guitar sitting inside on of the stalls. I looked at my watch. It was 8 AM. I also saw the phone number of my guest house. I took about a half hour to use my dictionaries and write a semi-coherent version of my state. "I did not find Gastonitza. I was awake all night. Can I please come and stay at your place?" Imagine it all in bad Russian. They took mercy on me. Thus commenced my two day stay in Rastov Veliky. (Photos later)
Sunday, July 5, 2009
An Open Letter to my Citibank
For one week, I have struggled to get my bankcard replaced. On line they say they cannot arrange it but all of the overseas phone numbers do not work- at least in Russia. So I am devoting this blog to sharing my third correspondance with citibank- Oh, this is the bank we as tax payer gave how many billions of dollars. (I'm not bitter.) By the way, I think I will survive- but only one card left and someone who is working it from another angle for me.
Dear Caroline at Citibank Online Client Services:
Where can I start? This number that I should call collect from overseas does not work! Do you want to try it. It says to me that this number is no longer in service. I have tried to be patient and it has been one week. Only with the help of a very nice Russian was I able to pull some money out to survive on from my other credit card. This is a bogus system if someone is in Russia. I can tell you that for sure.
I have also tried Citibank Russia and they say that they are not connected to you. Is that true?
Now today I find out that my Citibank AAdvantage card (ending in 6734) is blocked. Do you want me starving on the street in Moscow? You must help me!!! If you had known the number of hours that I have spent on the Internet looking for phone numbers and trying to contact someone, you would be astounded. I even tried to call my banker Ron Sparrow in Sebastopol, with some number I got on a search on the Internet, but the recording said it was an old number. It is about 500 rubles for every two minutes that I connect to the United States even if the call does not go though- as none of them have. I am ready for "Customer Service"!
I suggest that you send a replacement card (I guess both of my cards need a replacement now) to a central citibank in Moscow. I will come there and pick it up. I will show passport, California drivers license and my health card if that helps.
Please Please Please give me the services I need.
Sincerely,
Edward J. Lynch JD
Attorney of Banking
Please email me soon with good news.
Dear Caroline at Citibank Online Client Services:
Where can I start? This number that I should call collect from overseas does not work! Do you want to try it. It says to me that this number is no longer in service. I have tried to be patient and it has been one week. Only with the help of a very nice Russian was I able to pull some money out to survive on from my other credit card. This is a bogus system if someone is in Russia. I can tell you that for sure.
I have also tried Citibank Russia and they say that they are not connected to you. Is that true?
Now today I find out that my Citibank AAdvantage card (ending in 6734) is blocked. Do you want me starving on the street in Moscow? You must help me!!! If you had known the number of hours that I have spent on the Internet looking for phone numbers and trying to contact someone, you would be astounded. I even tried to call my banker Ron Sparrow in Sebastopol, with some number I got on a search on the Internet, but the recording said it was an old number. It is about 500 rubles for every two minutes that I connect to the United States even if the call does not go though- as none of them have. I am ready for "Customer Service"!
I suggest that you send a replacement card (I guess both of my cards need a replacement now) to a central citibank in Moscow. I will come there and pick it up. I will show passport, California drivers license and my health card if that helps.
Please Please Please give me the services I need.
Sincerely,
Edward J. Lynch JD
Attorney of Banking
Please email me soon with good news.
Friday, July 3, 2009
St. Petersburg, Tver, Rastov, Yaroslavl, Rubinsk and Kostroma
Yes, I have been doing some traveling and my apologies for not writing sooner. I am at this moment at an Internet Cafe in Kostroma, Russia- another beautiful city on the Volga. I feel that I could write for hours on what I have seen but I only have a few minutes. I will write until my time is up. I signed up for 30 minutes- only because they have somehow run out of 60 minute cards. I have already used one thirty minute session to write a short note to Donna and try and figure out my bank card situation (more on that later).
To help update- if anyone is still out there- I will include a few little snippets from my letters to Donna.
Snippet 1
have been doing a lot of walking. Today I walked way up Nevsky Prospect In St P. to find the International Hotel that supposedly gives legendary walking tours for St. P. The streets are so confusing!!!. I was looking for Sovietskya Street.
I found out later that there are three (maybe more) Sovietskya Streets- Number one, two and three. Fortunately they are all parellel. Also there are all kinds of numbers on the houses or flats but they are like "20- 25" which bear no relationship to the house number. Maybe one house in five has a number on it. I was an hour late but I was able to book my next trains. I will go there tomarrow, now that I know where it is. Thank God that I took that Russian class. It has really helped even though I am still a basket case in Russian. I can ask for directions.
Later on today I went to the Moscow National Museum. It was very wonderful for a person like me. It was full of Russian painting, most artists I had never heard of before and I certainly had never seen their work. Rapin was the only one I knew. Really really great- As with the Hermitage I got an audio guide and also took a lot of photos.
I just took a short nap and will find a place to eat now.
Wow, I just got your note about being able to call me. that is great. I will try and call you tonight. I tried the other night , then I asked the office and they said all calls are blocked inside the hotel. Crazy Russians. I only have a little time left but I will buy another card soon. Also I will turn on my phone for you."
Snippet 2
"I must tell you that today was a glorious day- my last day in St Petersburg. I walked about a mile to the International Hostle where a well reviewed walking tour begins. When I got there only two other people were there and the guide. We decided to do the tour by bicycle. It was four hours riding around all different parts of St Petersburg. The city is beautiful and the weather was amazing as it has been the whole time I have been here ( a few short rain showers, but that only makes it better.) Peter of Petersburg was our guide- a native with more of a Scotish accent- perfect English and knows so much about the city. It was really a joy. I reflected as I rode the bicycle, what a peak experience this was.
I am getting so much out of this trip, I must tell you. Certainly the experience of travel, the information that I have learned but also it is a country that is a little difficult to travel in when one does not really know the language. It is not really geared for tourists or non Russian speakers except in certain tourist areas. Getting my railway tickets, getting on buses, asking for directions, even getting lost is a challenge and I love it. You should also know that it is a very safe city. I have never seen any kind of dangerous places like we saw in London. The people are very kind and patient and try to help me when I ask a question in bad Russian- except the babushkas."
Real me writing.
Getting tickets for trains has been a real hastle for me. I speak Russian so badly and the ticket cashiers ask so many questions in Russian- almost none speak English. Generally trains are cheap and fast. I needed a train from Tver to Rastov- not too far- maybe 150 miles, but the cashier informed me that I must go through Moscow Station and transfer (it could be my worst nightmare.). I took the elektrishka- a fast comfortable commuter train to Moscow. After standing in line for a half hour I ask for a ticket to Rastov. She informs me that I must take the Moscow Metro to another station and catch it there. It begins with the letters KOM- KOMINIEYETSKI - I think. I decide not to rely on my memory but to actually look at my ticket. I have two ticket pouches in my bag. I look at the wrong ticket. I see the abbreviation KAZ- and so go to that station instead. There are about 12 railway stations in Moscow.
I get to the wrong station and I missed my train . more later
To help update- if anyone is still out there- I will include a few little snippets from my letters to Donna.
Snippet 1
have been doing a lot of walking. Today I walked way up Nevsky Prospect In St P. to find the International Hotel that supposedly gives legendary walking tours for St. P. The streets are so confusing!!!. I was looking for Sovietskya Street.
I found out later that there are three (maybe more) Sovietskya Streets- Number one, two and three. Fortunately they are all parellel. Also there are all kinds of numbers on the houses or flats but they are like "20- 25" which bear no relationship to the house number. Maybe one house in five has a number on it. I was an hour late but I was able to book my next trains. I will go there tomarrow, now that I know where it is. Thank God that I took that Russian class. It has really helped even though I am still a basket case in Russian. I can ask for directions.
Later on today I went to the Moscow National Museum. It was very wonderful for a person like me. It was full of Russian painting, most artists I had never heard of before and I certainly had never seen their work. Rapin was the only one I knew. Really really great- As with the Hermitage I got an audio guide and also took a lot of photos.
I just took a short nap and will find a place to eat now.
Wow, I just got your note about being able to call me. that is great. I will try and call you tonight. I tried the other night , then I asked the office and they said all calls are blocked inside the hotel. Crazy Russians. I only have a little time left but I will buy another card soon. Also I will turn on my phone for you."
Snippet 2
"I must tell you that today was a glorious day- my last day in St Petersburg. I walked about a mile to the International Hostle where a well reviewed walking tour begins. When I got there only two other people were there and the guide. We decided to do the tour by bicycle. It was four hours riding around all different parts of St Petersburg. The city is beautiful and the weather was amazing as it has been the whole time I have been here ( a few short rain showers, but that only makes it better.) Peter of Petersburg was our guide- a native with more of a Scotish accent- perfect English and knows so much about the city. It was really a joy. I reflected as I rode the bicycle, what a peak experience this was.
I am getting so much out of this trip, I must tell you. Certainly the experience of travel, the information that I have learned but also it is a country that is a little difficult to travel in when one does not really know the language. It is not really geared for tourists or non Russian speakers except in certain tourist areas. Getting my railway tickets, getting on buses, asking for directions, even getting lost is a challenge and I love it. You should also know that it is a very safe city. I have never seen any kind of dangerous places like we saw in London. The people are very kind and patient and try to help me when I ask a question in bad Russian- except the babushkas."
Real me writing.
Getting tickets for trains has been a real hastle for me. I speak Russian so badly and the ticket cashiers ask so many questions in Russian- almost none speak English. Generally trains are cheap and fast. I needed a train from Tver to Rastov- not too far- maybe 150 miles, but the cashier informed me that I must go through Moscow Station and transfer (it could be my worst nightmare.). I took the elektrishka- a fast comfortable commuter train to Moscow. After standing in line for a half hour I ask for a ticket to Rastov. She informs me that I must take the Moscow Metro to another station and catch it there. It begins with the letters KOM- KOMINIEYETSKI - I think. I decide not to rely on my memory but to actually look at my ticket. I have two ticket pouches in my bag. I look at the wrong ticket. I see the abbreviation KAZ- and so go to that station instead. There are about 12 railway stations in Moscow.
I get to the wrong station and I missed my train . more later
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