Trekhprudny Lane

Took in a fourth kitten. Half-dead at the metro station, in freezing weather. 

It's a cruel irony here that on the street, coexisting, are copious amounts of meat and fish sold in the open air, and a shocking number of limping, skinny, homeless dogs. Yesterday, twice, I encountered the two within yards of each other, and both times I just had to stop and buy some meat and pass it out. It was so cold, so cold, and they curl up into balls so tightly on the pavement to preserve their warmth... as if they had so spines. For some reason, though, the dogs were wary of both the fish and the chickens I bought for them. What cautious instinct is that, so strong that it overrides hunger? The magpies enjoyed a feast instead.

Over the weekend, we attended a holiday party for children at A's office building. These "New Year" celebrations are a Soviet tradition, organized by Russian employers, and held at work on a weekend morning. A remembers similar celebrations from his childhood, but it was so bizarre for me: standing around a corporate glass lobby with other parents, all the rest of whom had tarted their little daughters up in ball gowns and glittery make-up for the occasion, as a huge glowering man behind a tiny laptop spun disco-style Russian carols sung in chipmunkish voices, or sicky-sweet R&B versions of the same tunes, at top volume. No one really smiled, except for photos, which seemed to be the real reason for the event. Such a dutiful good time. Father Christmas and his wife appeared with microphones in hand, like award presenters, for a few minutes of fatuous crowd-rousing ("Who likes presents?" "Jaaaaaa!!"). When a woman in gold pants began marching a pathetic, old-looking brown poodle in a sequined costume round and round and round in a circle on his back feet, his eyes rolling and his tongue lolling and the music blasting, endlessly laboriously circling, we left. It was another Russian simulacrum of many bits of Western culture(s), equal parts Disneyland and television and game show and birthday party, with no roots in any real past, with confused suggestions of Christmas (which does not exist here), and it was all utterly shiny and empty.