And we're off...

...or, rather, Azh is off! Aickz! What does this mean. Well, nothing other than he's arriving an entire day and a half before me in a country that he's never been in before and spending it with people he's never talked with before. That is, he's spending time with Olezha, my 30-year-old brother, who's got the whole first day planned out:

" Мы с Ажем для начала съездим на Красную площадь.

Потом купим водки пару бутылок и домой поедем. Я

готовлю сейчас назавтра жаркое из говядины с картошкой.

Купил банку красной икры. Так что извини, съедим

с Ажем, тебя не дождавшись, а потом посмотрим."

- from a recent email

Translation:

"First, Azh and I'll go to Red Square. Then we'll buy a couple of

bottles of vodka and set off for home. I'm preparing some beef

stew with potatoes (zharkoe, from the word for HOT 'zharko/

zhara') now for tomorrow. I bought a can of red caviar. You'll

have to forgive us, but Azh and I will eat it all before you arrive,

and then we'll see."

My concern for him at this point is really one of survival. Not physical, of course, but psychological. The appropriate reference points that Olezha instructed me to use in acquainting Azh with his housing situation of the first week is: he's going to visit Cartman (Oleg) in Shrek's cave (our appartment in Krasnogorsk).