DISQUS

Yeah, the arduous visa system is silly, really, especially for people who have suffered through it over a dozen times and proven that they can go through it without detracting from Russia. There should be some kind of honored guest plan or something, where, instead of filling out the endless homestay paperwork with the exact same facts and numbers, and wearing out one's nerves in OVIR, which in the smaller towns (like where I go) often means standing in the same line as people filing for ANY civil act --- and take a long, dramatic time doing so, --- one could apply for and pay for the visa on-line, then check in at a kiosk at the point of entry. Again, these would be guests who had always done exactly as they said they would, so why squeeze them out of a few meetings and shopping exercizes in Moscow and force them to always chose the most break-neck route to their "final" destination? I think us homestay old-timers deserve something for our loyal patronage.

What I love the most about reading Mr. Putin is that he is very instructional. He describes algorithmically the decision processes that apply to situations that we may never personally engage in, but have an ability, nonetheless, to appreciate. Replace any two names of countries in his algorithms with the names of two personal acquiantances, whose relationship reminds you of the aforementioned countries and, voila, you have a potential solution to the problem. Whatever happens in the elections, I hope that we will continue to have access to Mr. Putin's disciplined mind algorithms through his words. I've found their application extremely useful in normal business management and business strategy situations.

A memorable small victory was when I made my first purchase under the old Soviet-style talonchik system. For those who don’t know or have forgotten, this is the system in stores that separated goods from consumers by a continuous countertop worked by one or more store assistants who were always grumpy because they had to trod around the long perimeter of the store to get from customer to customer (clamoring for attention). All the goods were piled high on the shelves beyond this countertop and consumers needed to explain in precise, yet colloquially acceptable descriptions, exactly what they wanted. The store assistant would wait while you examined the object. Then, if you decided you wanted it, she would give you a talonchik, which had the price of the item on it. You would take the talonchik to the cash register, get in line, pay, and receive a second talonchik, which you would take back to the sales assistant (when she was free again) in exchange for the item from the shelf (or so you hoped: since that was the one you had inspected). You can imagine how uncomfortable this experience was for shy people, new to this system (in other words lacking a model of how to behave and express oneself in a way that makes sense to those who instinctively know the protocol), and who barely speak Russian or not at all. So, I was quite happy when I finally made myself understood and became the proud owner of a medium-sized, two-handled, enameled yellow cooking pot with pastel floral design, which I desperately needed as I set up my home. Fortunately, stores like Magnit have come on the scene and made widely acceptable the self-pick western model, which removes the language and assertiveness requirements for consumers.