Flash a smile, get some beads

Last weekend, I took a road trip to the infamous Mardi Gras in New Orleans, Louisiana.  I had many preconceptions about how crazy it was going to be, so I adequately prepared myself.  I imagined Disneyland during its 50^th celebration meets Las Vegas on New Year's Eve.  I packed boots, dark make up, and plenty of Asprin.  I was even more excited because  my sorority little sister, Mary, was flying in to Austin to join us on our weekend to Mardi Gras.

Mary, me & Megan on 6th St.

I met Mary at the airport on Thursday evening and was extremely excited to show her Austin during our one night before heading off to Louisiana.  We chatted, got dressed up and picked up Nat and a friend, Megan, before heading downtown.  For those of you who are not familiar with 6^th Street, Austin, it is a site to see.  The police, rather than deal with cars hitting drunk pedestrians, close down a large portion of the street by setting up blockades.   This makes it legal and extremely convenient to do my favorite pass-time: jay-walking.  We bought $5 pitchers of alcohol from one of my favorite bars called Shakespeare’s.  We even saw our bartender at Cheers light shots on fire to make the famous Austin beverage “Flaming Doctor Peppers.”  It was quite the way to start the weekend.  We had to be up at 4AM to start our road trip so a good night’s rest would have been appropriate, but you know me better than that, right?  We finally crawled into bed at about 2AM, making the following morning brutal as I realized I was still in a mildly altered state of mind.  I went from sleeping in the parking lot on top of a suitcase to dancing up a storm in a matter of 60 seconds. 

My bed away from bed

The drive was entertaining.  We stopped for a meal of deep fried alligator tail, with a side of deep fried frog legs and deep fried craw fish- a true Cajun feast.  It rained on the way there, forcing the men folk to get out and wrap our baggage in trash bags while the ladies snapped photos.  After 12 hours of rain and traffic, we finally arrived at our off-Bourbon Street hotel.  A thorough inspection of the mattresses at our 2.5 star hotel concluded that our room was not infested with bed bugs, so we settled in and hit the town.


 We got so much look from flashing!  Flashing our beautiful smiles that is!  Check out my high neck dress if you don't believe me.

My lovely group of friends

Balcony where treats fall from!

We came out decked with bead, boas, yo-yos and many other random treats.  That was only the first night!  The following day we wandered around the city and had lunch at a traditional Cajun restaurant where I got my first order of jambalaya.  My only complaint about the weekend was the creepers waiting to snap pictures of your drunken bartering mistakes, and the rain.  The unfortunate weather conditions forced us to stay indoors most of Saturday.  Although we do look cute in ponchos!

Nat and me on a terrace during our lunch

Mary, me and Anna

At our refuge from the rain, we had jello shots out of a tube that looks like a syringe.  Does that sound familiar?  Remember my post about the injection shots in Kiev, Ukraine (Shot of Death)?  

Jello Shots!

I am convinced that since I did not see a parade during Mardi Gras, I should just take a trip to the capital of all Fat Tuesday celebrations: Carnival at Rio de Janeiro.  I can feel the wander lust rising…

Flood Gates have been opened

After having spent the last month and a half studying up to twelve hours a day, you better believe that Tuesday night was a night to celebrate for the first year law students at University of Texas.  Directly after the final ended, some immediately started drinking, others napped, and others just sat dumbfounded in shock.  By 8PM all of my new friends were ready to begin the festivities of the night.  The evening was started by a three-man race to a restaurant/bar called Trudy’s.  The contestants had to tie themselves together, run to each destination, chug a large beer, and then keep running.  Nat and I made the wise decision of simply being spectators, but quickly realized that in order to continue to gawk at our friends, we had to actually run after them.  The plan quickly deteriorated, so we decided to just walk directly to Trudy’s with one other friend.

After Trudy’s, we headed to a peer’s house prior to hitting the town.  During the evening, somehow Star Wars came up and I was shocked and appalled to hear that one of Nat’s friends had never seen the original trilogy.  Out of sheer shock and offense, my gut reaction was to slap him.  Harsh I realize, but he also said he didn’t know Harrison Ford was in the movies which I think merited a slap.  I apologized, and shortly thereafter we headed downtown.

A larger group of law students had rented a party bus to head downtown, but we had something better.  It only cost my one dollar, and is totally green – public transportation.  We took some silly pictures while we waited, and I guess we were having so much fun that a homeless man decided to join us so we took a picture together.  Quite the rowdy crowd! 

Note our new homeless friend on the bottom right

At the bar, we meet up with the rest of the first year law students.  Some were dressed like elves, Santa’s ladies, or just themselves but covered in green glitter.  After a while, some of us went on a quest to find a dance floor and break it down.  Unfortunately, we realized it was still Tuesday, so dancing was scarce.  We snuck onto the third floor of a bar, only to get escorted down.  After one of our friends fell down the stairs on the way down, we went from escorted down to out.  Since everyone is done with school and I don’t have a job, I really feel like we are living the dream and constantly on vacation.  I wish this feeling would never end.

I am also feeling the holiday spirit here in Austin!  Check out the huge tree!  I felt like such a little kid spinning in circles under the tree.  I got really dizzy but held my ground.  One of our friends tried to spin but completely fell on the ground.

Nat and Erica under the Christmas tree made of lights

Spinning under the tree!

Group picture!

Shot of Death

On second thought, maybe two beers and a shot of vodka orange juice wasn't the best pre-train beverages to be consuming before heading back from Kiev to Odessa.  Not only did I narrowly miss my train home, but the liquor wasn't even enough to break the 6AM bedtime I was accustomed to!  Either way, I had a great time at the doctor's bar, known as Palata #6.  One of my best friends, Tristan, asked what everyone's favorite European city was, and I wrote Kiev, mostly just because of this bar.  Just take a look:

Getting into my straight jacket

Having second thoughts

"Do I really have to be in this dude's lap??"

Freedom! 

What a ridiculously amazing bar.  If I ever opened a bar in the states, it would be hospital themed as well.  I can see it now, "Papa, I know you always hoped I would take over the family business by becoming a doctor... but how would you feel about turning your clinic into a bar!!  That would be much cooler."

You are the coolest African I have met this entire trip!

My first night in Kiev, I was invited by the rest of the hostel guests at TIU Kreshatik to share a home cooked dinner.  We had amazing borsht, salad, rice and pasta.  As soon as the bottle of vodka came out, the true friendships began.  Around the table sat an American girl, a Greek man, two Turkish guys, a Japanese dude, a Ugandan man, and two Ukrainian chicks.  I am still amazed that at any given point, everyone sitting at a table will be able to speak English; it really makes my life much simpler.  We had such a great time over dinner that we decided we should all go out to the bars together.  After picking up a new addition to our group, a British guy, we were on our way. 

International Relations featuring Borsht and Vodka

Kiev is notorious for its deep metro lines.  Claudia and I joked that you could get so much done on your way to work, just on the metro escalator.  We must have looked like such ridiculous tourists, because we took hundreds of pictures that night, many of them on the escalator.

Metro Photo Shoot!

Work it, Boys!

I had such an amazing time, hanging out with "Sushi," "Dark Chocolate," and everyone else (for the record, those were the names they gave themselves, and I don't have to tell you who is who!). 

Erika to the Ugandan: "You are the coolest African I have met this entire trip!"

Ugandan: "Wow, thank you.  What a compliment.  You are so kind."

Erika: "Actually, you are the only African I have met this entire trip."

Pause.... roar of laughter on both sides

Dancing to the live music

We danced on tables at the bar.  Well, actually "Sushi" did and this might be one of the only times I passed up table dancing.  We ordered towers of beer that I haven't seen since China and all around just had a grand old time.    

Beer Tower 1 of 3

Sushi on the Table

Our group got broken up into multiple factions when deciding what to do next.  Artyom and I wanted to meet our other friends at a different pub, but it seemed like others wanted to go to a Disco, excuse me, "night club." So we went our separate ways.  We sat at the pub for about an hour, before my bad habit of falling asleep at the bars kicked in.  I was exhausted, having spent the last night barely sleeping on the train from Odessa.  Jason and Artyom convinced me that all I needed was some vodka and Red Bull.  *Sigh*  I really did not want any Red Bull, since I had to be up by 8:30AM the next day to watch the Soccer tournament my kids were playing in and it was already pushing 2:30AM.  Somehow, I was convinced to go to Vodka Bar, which was on the way home.  Here is when things started to get ugly.

Right about when things started to get ugly

Besides a few beers, I hadn't really been drinking, and did not plan on starting at 3AM, but I did take one Red Bull to keep me awake.  I had to suffer through the bad techno remixes, and one must really have a good attitude to survive them, so I figured one Red Bull wouldn't hurt. At this point, I had with me Jason, Artyom and the British dude who had tagged along.  All was going fine, until the Brit got too drunk, annoying and apologetic.   You know the kind: gets too drunk, and insists on apologizing about everything.  He also tried to smoke a wet cigarette that he dropped on the floor which we all chastised him for.  He was getting a little strange, and it was already past 5AM when I put my foot down and insisted that I was walking home, with or without everyone.  

I just love this picture.

Artyom was nice enough to make sure the Brit didn't lose his jacket or money, or me, cause I was ready to just walk home and ditch the guy.  We went and bought water in the 24 hr kiosk, but after one 5 minutes of holding Artyom's water, the Brit ran off and apparently started playing soccer with the bottled water somewhere on the street.  This story isn't even worth my breathe, but basically, he was drunk, annoying and almost found himself on the street that night because Artyom almost kicked him out of his hostel.  Artyom and the Brit had a long conversation which went something like this:


Brit: "You just don't understand.  My life is so hard.  I am 32, and I live with my mother.  She doesn't even know I am in Ukraine right now."
Artyom: "Um... actually, my mother is dead.  And well, so is my brother."
Brit gushes through flood of tears: "My life is so hard."


When staying in a hostel, sometimes you win, sometimes you lose.  This British guy apologized, cried, and promised to behave.  He put himself on voluntary prohibition and is now restricting himself from going out at night.  Well done.

Rolling Black Outs

The city of Odessa is notorious for its black outs.  You can tell how expensive the clothes in a store is based on whether or not they have a generator outside keeping the lights on during a black out.  On my first day at the office, the lights went out, and since then, it has just been the norm.  You deal with it.


Last night, we were at a bar after my friend's birthday celebration when the lights unexpectedly went out.  There was a roar of cheering and laughter, followed by a drunken rendition of The Beatles' "We all live in a Yellow Submarine."  Of course, that was the only line any of the patrons knew, but that didn't stop anyone from having a fine time with it.


Before the lights went out, we met a very drunk Ukrainian girl at the bar that insisted in being all up in our faces, drinking shots someone else ordered, laughing louder and more obnoxiously than I do, and just all around being annoying.  She would ask strange questions, and look at us with these wide deer in the headlights eyes that suggested maybe she was more than just drunk.  She asked me how I heard about the bar, and I pointed at our group of friends, trying to get her to go talk to them instead.  My evil plan worked, but unfortunately, our groups just ended up merging, adding a new element of comedy to the scene.  


One of our English friends, who is not afraid to tell it like it is, got upset that she kept hitting him every time he said something funny.  All of a sudden the lights went out and he said, "Hit me again, and I swear to God I will pound you harder than you can imagine and no one would even know what happened 'cause the lights are out."  She just laughed like a jackal.  By this point, I was just beyond annoyed and she could probably tell I was giving her dirty looks, which I do not do often.  She told our friends, "I don't even want to know her."  Which I thought was hysterical, given the obviously mutual feelings I had for her.  


We seemed to have the situation under control, until she got a set of utensils with her meal.  One of my friends was smart enough to take the knife away from her.  I know it sounds dramatic, but two minutes later she actually stabbed our English friend with the fork she still wielded.  He retorted to her stabbing by explaining, "If you stab me again, I will take this fork and jab it into your eyes."  Again with the jackal-like laughter.  I told her in Russian, "Не шутка!" meaning, "No joke," as I reached for her fork to take it away from her.


After we disarmed her, she ravenously tore at her burger - we then decided it was high time we made our escape.  The lights were still out, and the bar was smelling suspiciously like paint, or gas - worrying us that this might be yet another insurance company fraud attempt.  Bars suspiciously "accidentally" burn down often in Ukraine, meaning the owners can collect large sums of money from their insurance carriers...and you thought the insurance fraud was bad in the states.  

Tonight you will learn to drink like a Russian

I was a little depressed after Claudia departed for the airport; I am not going to lie.  We had a fabulous time getting into adventures and getting into and out of trouble.  I spent most of the day after she left sleeping and trying to get rid of my now lingering cough.  It seems now, that I was resting and preparing for the night ahead.  I finally had arranged an evening with Crazy Dave from the Ukraine.

About six months ago, I told Mark that I was planning to volunteer and tour Ukraine.  His initial reaction was, “Oh my God, you should try to find Crazy Dave from the Ukraine.”  A little skeptical about his infamous title, I inquired with caution.  Dave was apparently a longtime best friend of Mark’s brother who moved to Ukraine shortly after the fall of communism, was a pioneer in the Internet Ukrainian bride industry, and all around legend.   After a few years of misadventures in the Siberian Mountains, he got married and started a family.  He sounded interesting, so Mark said he would ask his brother if he could get in touch with him online.  We soon thereafter became Facebook friends; Crazy Dave was excited to hear when I would be in Kiev so he could show me the ropes. 

Me and Crazy Dave

Olga, me and Timur

After many failed phone calls and boched planning, we finally had arranged an evening together.  He invited his lovely Russian wife, Olga, and one of his best friends.  We blasted the Black Eyed Peas as we sped down the roads to Kiev’s downtown.  Dave told him that the Black Eyed Peas once came to Kiev and he and his wife were invited to the after party because they were also former residents of Sonoma County.  How amazing is that!  We made our way to Art Club 44, a bar that hosts local bands trying to get big.  Olga and I chatted and bonded very quickly and I was feeling very good about the evening, until it was suggested that we go elsewhere because the music was too loud and the crowd too young and drunk.  We left our half consumed beers on the bar and set foot towards our next destination.

Art Club 44

We went to a very cute home style restaurant that had a pet piglet.  We sat down began to peruse the menu.  Not necessary.

Dave’s Friend: “Do you like vodka?”

Erica: “Of course.”

Dave’s Friend: “Then tonight, we teach you to drink like a Russian.”

I know I had an earlier post about only drinking vodka with little snacks and food known as zakuski, but I had no idea how thoroughly regimented shot taking can be.  We got our pickled garlic, cabbage, tomatoes, and pickles and started the process.  The first two shots we taken relatively quickly, with barely enough time to start a new conversation topic.  We toasted to our meeting and looked each other in the eyes as we cheered.  Then we settled down a bit, letting the vodka slowly make its rounds through my body.  The third shot was a shot in honor of the ladies present and is taken about 20 minutes after the first two.  Olga and I stayed seated until the men stood with their shot glasses In hand.  Third shot down.  Maybe around this point, I started to realize that my alcohol tolerance did not include vodka, as the entire time I had been sticking to beer rather than hard liquor.  After hanging out for a little while longer, it was decided that it was time to drive home.   I wish I could still drink like a college kid, because I would have loved to see where the drinking game led.  After all, I only made it to round three. It’s like a secret society, I could discover their secrets, but then they would have to kill me.  Murder weapon of choice: alcohol poisoning.   

Ekaterinburg in a Meat Bag

Ekaterinburg was obsessed with the Beatles!

Church to commemorate the death of the Romanovs

The love you take is equal to the love you make... - The Beatles

The city of Ekaterinburg is large, historical and happening. We saw the memorials, churches, the downtown, and even, randomly enough, a tribute to the Beatles.

This is a random sign I thought was funny.  It states, "Be careful!  Evil Dog!"






Wandering the city was a lot of fun.  It was a little cold and overcast, but all in all, it was a beautiful city. The night life however, requires more explanation.


Every night we were out until 6AM.  It's not that James and I are that cool, staying out till the sun rises - this is just the norm in Russia.  Our first night, we were supposed to head to a different location because the hostel was over booked.  There were people who were supposed to leave at 4AM; we never had to go to the alternate housing.  By the time we got back from our night out, they were already gone.  That first club was interesting.  At first they didn't want to let us in, but as soon as we told them we were from California, they told us to put our coats aways and come back.  Oh yes, in the words of Katy Perry, "California gurls, we're unforgettable!"  Inside, was a mix of bad techno, and what look like underage girls.  It looked like a high school dance.  This is exactly why I would be an opponent of making the minimum drinking age in the USA 18; everyone just looks way too young.

Fellow Travelers at the Yellow Submarine Bar

Of course I started another dance party!

The next night, fellow hostel residents and I went to a Beatles themed bar (What did I tell you about this city's obsession?).  They were by far my favorite travelers I have met on this entire trip.  All super funny and extremely interesting.  At the bar, we met some Russian girls whose men were immediately alarmed and concerned about losing their women to James.  He got pulled aside by a Russian dude and was told, "I don't care what you do, but tonight she is mine."  Yes, women are treated like property here.  We ended up following our new Russian friends around the city after the bar closed at 3AM.


My favorite moments included me trying to explain to this Russian man the concept of a hostel.  
Russian Man: "Five back packs no problem!  You stay with me! I like Back People." 
Erica: "No, not Back People, that sounds like something else in English.  Back-packers!"


I was shocked when they wanted to keep going at 6AM.  I put my foot down, and said, we are close to the hostel - James, we are going home.  I had had enough for one night.  They walked by a Kiosk and offered to buy me a beer.  Confused, but I am walking home??  This is Russia. 


After they walked us home, they told us to call them in the morning so we could hang out again.  


Erica to the 50 year Pyoter: "Tomorrow is Monday, don't you have to work?"
Pyoter: "Yess, sure, but for you, whatever."


I love Russia.  We were out until 6AM on Monday morning, everyone had work that day, and they still went out after the wet blanket Americans wanted to go home.




What happened next was unexpected.  This is what happens when you stumble into your hostel at 6AM.

This Frenchman who was staying in our hostel slept in a sleeping bag like sheet called a "meat bag."  The logic is that you can sleep in it, and not get dirty if the rest of your bed is dirty - quite a handy tool for a traveler.






We came home to find him walking the corridors in his meat bag, with a bottle of vodka in hand.    He somehow got me into his meat bag and I thought this was the funniest thing in the world.  Sadly the pictures of me in the bag head first, a la Borat, were on someone else's camera. 

Irish Invasion of the Meat Bag

The best part was that the Irish guy who was also staying with us got jealous and also wanted to get into the meat bag.  His entrance into the French territory sparked an epic battle at 7AM in the middle of the hostel.


Nothing like two full grown men fighting over a meat bag to make you glad you were sober enough to catch it on film and actually remember the madness that ensued.  


I was terrified they were going to break something in the hostel.  Remember kids, Drinking is Dangerous!

Peaceful Coexistence?

Irish winning the Battle of the Meat Bag

French Retaliation

The French guy kept insisting, "I won!" because he had slapped the Irish guy.  

James: "You bitch-slapped him.  You both lose!"

Just like the French to think they won when it is obvious that they were far from victory.

The French was subdued - America watches in neutrality

Эрика, я тебя люблю! : Erica, I love you!

Я познакомилась с русскими людями, и было очень интересно!  Мы пыли пиво конечно и скоро мы начали танцевать на поезде.     

I had an amazing time with my new friends on the train ride from Tomsk to Yekaterinburg.  We drank some beer and before we knew it, we had started a dance party on the dining car after hours.  

After spending the rest of the night laughing and dancing in the dining car, we started to play music on my iPhone.  I played some Soviet songs for kicks and what proceeded next was the epitome of everything I wanted and hoped for this trip - a drunken sing-a-long to the Anthem of the Soviet Union with Russian strangers in a train car somewhere in Siberia.  We sang so loudly, other patrons of the dining car eagerly joined in and cheered in nostalgia.

We eventually got kicked out of the dining car and were forced to walk back to our car through halls of sleeping passengers.

All was going well until the Russian who told us he had been studying to become an Orthodox priest started questioning his life long devotion and started to ask me to be his woman.

"Эрика, я тебя люблю!" - Это что мой новый друг мне сказал много раз.  Как глупый этот мальчик, который учится на семинарии.

"Erica, I love you! - This was what my new friend told me many times that night.  I kept thinking, he's harmless; what a silly boy who is in his fifth year in the seminary.  

"Erica, you break my heart. You kill me."

What happened next basically reaffirms every stereotype of "Crazy Drunk Russians" I have ever known.  After I repeatedly rejected his advances many times, he told me, "Erica, you break my heart. You kill me."  He pulled out his switch blade and showed me how painful my rejection was.  Friends, because I am sure you will be concerned for my safety let me reassure you that I was extremely sober, and somehow this distorted display of affection was more hysterical than frightening.

Ok, maybe not so dull!

"What a dull knife" I kept thinking.

Very soon after he drew blood, I decided it was time to find my bed and go to sleep.  I had had enough fun for the day.  He continued to follow me around the following morning.  Needless to say, after the previous night, I was not shocked to see him with yet another been in hand.