Lesson learned

Wow,

So I’ve had some adventures in Moscow. On our first day we went to the Embassy and met with a lot of advisors and representatives of various departments, which, apart from being very tiring after a night of train-travel, was pretty interesting. The US Ambassador’s wife even approached us (she, a former Fulbrighter) and invited us to “the residence” at some point. We hear d a lot of interesting things from various briefings and left in a bit of a daze.

That night I met Zeke, an old friend my summer abroad in Petersburg. He has been working for the Moscow times this past year and it was great to catch up. The next day we stopped into the American center and then to the Fulbright office. We took care of some official business and then were set loose into the city. I desperately needed to exchange some money (I was told to bring a lot of cash and so needed to change it all to Rubles eventually). I was nervous about the street exchanges, but heard you don’t have to pay as big of fees as at a bank, so after visiting Red Square and wandering towards Arbat with some friends, I finally chose a decent looking exchange with a door for security and a good rate.

I had calculated how much I should get in exchange for $1,300 (31,850 Rubles) and thought I was in good shape. The lady told me that amount, counted out the 850, and pulled the rest out of the machine. I, stupidly, was afraid to stay in the little room too long and get scolded, so I went back outside and put of counting my money until later. Also, I didn’t get a receipt and didn’t think about it until later. I enjoyed a nice afternoon and some shuarma on Novyi Arbat and went home with a sense of achievement (having exchanged my currency).

After folding some laundry, I remembered to count the money I had gotten, and much to my surprise, I was 5,000 Rubles short. That’s $205. As you can imagine, I went into shock. How stupid of me not to have counted the money, not to have asked for a receipt. I have an obvious accent and a foreign look. It would be so easy to rip me off. If I had noticed that I’d been short-changed, she could have apologized and given me the right amount, otherwise, I have no proof, the police would do nothing, and she’d walk away with $200. I was an idiot. I eventually found some friends to consult. Everyone agreed, the situation was grim. I could go to the police and maybe get a passport check and pay a bribe to get my documents back. I could go back to the lady and be sworn at to no avail. Basically, I had no options. Finally, I decided to go ask the ladies at the hotel desk for advice.

They were wonderful. They heard me out, asked for all the financial details, explained that nobody should ever go to an exchange in an underground tunnel (banks charge fees, but are secure and give receipts)… they told me that yes, going to the police would be useless. Finally, they said that my once chance was to go back and hope that it was an honest person making an honest mistake, and that she’d rectify it. Even then, I had no proof. The situation was pretty hopeless. Nonetheless, they recommended that I try, and even reminded me of the word for “receipt”, which any native-English speaker might forget in favor of a word that means “recipe” or “prescription”, none of which would have helped me. When they asked where in Russia I was headed and heard Tomsk, they smiled sweetly and promised that nothing like this would ever happen in Tomsk. This warmed my heart greatly.

Finally, I asked some friends, and they agreed to accompany me for courage. I decided that the reason I was in this mess was that I was too afraid to talk to people, too afraid to say that I needed a minute to count my money. This was a lesson I needed to learn. Talking to the hotel ladies gave me the confidence I needed to realize that I can speak some Russian, that I can express myself, and that the only way to thrive in another country is to have what it takes to actually talk to people.

With my friends’ help I prepared some tactics. I’d appeal to her as if I assumed it was a mistake, say that I am sure she is an honest person, that I was foolish not to have counted, that I certainly had no evidence, and that I really just wanted to make sure there was no way to settle things. We, my friends, the ladies, at the desk, and I, were all sure, however, that I had been had, that I was a stupid foreigner in a wild metropolis, and that I had walked into an obvious trap.

I buzzed at the door and was allowed in. “Were you working here at 5?” I asked. “Yeah, so? She answered, pretty hostilely. “Do you remember me?” “No, can I help you?” I fumbled, “I know people make mistakes, everyone makes mistakes.” She looked puzzled. “I came in here and gave you $1300. You should have given me…” I really started to fumble. I was nervous, forgot numbers, stuttered, apologized. Finally, she realized I was really worked up, calmed me down, and asked me to explain. I did and she did the calculations, figured out how much I should have received and how much I did. It all added up. I didn’t know what would happen.

To my amazement, I started to sense real sympathy. This person I took for a swindler really felt for me. She said there couldn’t have been a mistake, that the machine counted the money, etc. Finally, she asked me to come back the next day. I told her I was leaving for Tomsk and that I might not be able to. I asked what she could do tomorrow that she couldn’t now. She explained that she could call the bank and find out if there was a problem with the numbers, and if there was, give me the money the next day. When I told her it’d be hard to make it, she got agitated, begged me to understand that she was also in a bind, that it was a legal issue and so on. I understood that she really wanted to make things right. Eventually she called her boss, explained the situation, and when told that she couldn’t just hand out $5,000 Rubles, pleaded that he understand that I was on my way out of the city and couldn’t come back. Nothing came of the phone call, and we started talking again.

I told her I could try to come back, and she said that I absolutely need to, that she would be there, and that she would look into it for me.

I was amazed. I came there feeling cheated, feeling disillusioned with the country I had devoted so much time and energy into studying, feeling like I wanted to at least vent my frustrations on this lady in a perexod ( can’t really translate). What I found was a real person, sympathetic, caring, real. I really believe her. If she had really taken my money and faked that performance, then she is a talented enough actress to deserve it. I’m going to go back tomorrow, and maybe somehow I’ll get my money back. If not, I don’t even think I’ll be that upset. If nothing else I have a renewed faith in people, in the Russian people, in everything I thought I loved about this country. If nothing else I learned that to get by here, to learn anything, I’m going to have to stop being so nervous and self-conscious and actually talk to people. That’s what I’m here for, after all. If nothing else, I have at least a little bit of renewed faith in myself (obvious counting blunder aside), that I have managed to pick up a bit of Russian in the last few years.

We’ll see what happens tomorrow. Regardless, I have an expensive cab-ride to the airport at 7:30, and my flight to Siberia leaves just before midnight. Despite the stress of this misadventure, I’m really excited to finally get to see my home for a year.

More to come,

Jason

PS, I've posted some more pictures from Kiev