Chapter 94: And The Crowd Goes Wild!

July 28, 1997, Moscow, Russia

On Monday, after breakfast, we boarded a large tour bus which would whisk us around Moscow on a day-long sightseeing tour which would include Red Square, the Kremlin, St. Basil’s Cathedral, the Sophia Embankment, the Bolshoi Theatre, the Monument to the Conquerors of Space, the monument to the Worker and Kolkhoz Woman, and the Russian White House, where President Yeltsin had stood on one of Dima’s tanks during the coup/counter-coup in 1991. And our final stop of the day would be GUM, and the nearby TsUM.

On the bus, the hockey players tended to sit in pairs, as did the parents. I was one of the last ones on, and immediately faced the prospect of taking an empty seat near the front of the bus, but next to Kelly, or going much further back. She smiled invitingly at me and I walked past without so much as acknowledging her. Another empty seat, though, had a young woman with an equally inviting smile.

“You can sit here with my parents and me if you want,” Natalie said.

Her mom and dad occupied the two seats across the aisle, and she sat by the window, so I sat down next to her, with her to my left and her dad to my right.

“Thanks.”

“It would be silly to sit alone,” she said. “You don’t mind if I have the window?”

“Not at all. They’re big enough I can see past you.”

“Have you been on this tour before?” Chris asked from across the aisle.

“No, though Jesse and I had a tour of St. Basil’s yesterday morning, along with some of the other churches we won’t see today.”

“They’re mostly museums, right?”

“Yes. The government and the Orthodox Church are trying to figure out their relationship, and which buildings should return to the church for their use, and what ones should remain museums. I’m just happy the Soviets didn’t end up tearing down all the old, beautiful buildings, which was a real risk at several points during Communist rule.”

Our first stop was Red Square, and I stayed with the Heaths, as I ended up doing for the rest of the day. When we finally arrived at GUM, Natalie received permission from her parents to wander the store herself, with a promise to meet back at the bus five minutes before we were supposed to leave.

“Come with me?” she asked.

I looked over to Chris for approval and he nodded.

“Sure.”

We walked away from her parents, and she said she wanted to see everything in both buildings, if possible, before deciding what she wanted to buy. That was a tall order, given we only had an hour, so I suggested we prioritize the things she really wanted to see.

“Thank you for talking to me last night,” she said as we looked over a display of amazing «матрёшка». (Matryoshka doll)

“You’re welcome. I was happy to do it.”

“Who is that?” Natalie asked, pointing at a doll set where the largest one was Mikhail Gorbachev.

“Those are Russian politicians. The big one is Mikhail Gorbachev. I’m sure you remember what Dima said about him when we were at the White House.”

“It’s so funny that they called their government building the ‘White House’. But I know who he is, I just didn’t recognize the doll. Do you like them?”

“I do. Well, the religious ones and the other traditional ones. Santa Claus just doesn’t cut it for me, nor do any of the political ones, including that one with Reagan and Thatcher.”

“These are like the most Russian things we could buy, right?”

“Either something like this, or a tea set, but a nice tea set is expensive because the holders are usually real silver, and sometimes even gold.”

“I don’t have THAT much money!” Natalie declared.

“There are some very nice Russian-made scarves, if you wear them.”

“Not really. You see my hair in a ponytail, and I don’t really have a need to cover my head.”

“You could wear them around your neck as well,” I replied. “Come look at the display, and you’ll see them on the mannequins. And if you look over there, you can see lacquer boxes, which are another traditional Russian thing. Some of those will be very expensive, but some will be affordable.”

“Let’s look at those,” she said.

We walked over to them.

“Some of these look like the paintings in the churches.”

“The icons, yes. Technically, icons are not ‘painted’ but ‘written’ because they convey a story or message. I think they’re special, though I wouldn’t argue that secular art can’t have similar emotional and spiritual effects.”

“What do you mean? Isn’t it just like a painting?”

“In one sense, yes. And great paintings move the observer to some kind of response, often emotional. They can be very powerful in that way. The icons have that effect on Orthodox worshipers, but there are also non-Orthodox who are moved by the beauty of the work and the message conveyed. I’m guessing you haven’t been to the Art Museum?”

“No. We went to the Natural History Museum and the Museum of Science and Industry on school field trips, but not the Art Museum.”

“Think about it this way - has a movie or TV show ever made you want to cry? Or made you feel happy?”

“Sure.”

“Well, paintings can do that, and a whole lot more, as well.”

“I swear, you need to come teach at our High School!”

“They’d never hire me, and if they did, the parents would be up in arms. I’m a subversive!”

“What’s that?”

“A troublemaker. I teach kids to think and to ask difficult questions, something most parents hate with a white-hot passion.”

“But you don’t hate it! I’ve heard Jesse say things to you that would get me grounded for a month and you just let him get away with it!”

“Is that what I do? Think about it for a second.”

“You don’t let him annoy you!” she declared after a moment’s thought.

“Close. I don’t let him know he annoys me. There’s a BIG difference!”

“So why let him say those things?”

“Because he’s a person who has just as much right to his opinions as I have to mine, or anyone else has to theirs, for that matter. Going to school and growing up are supposed to be about becoming good citizens and being able to function in society. Well, if we don’t teach our kids how to think, ask questions, and make decisions, they aren’t going to be good citizens. And that means, among other things, letting them say and do things of which most parents disapprove. And teaching them how to lose without giving them ‘participation’ trophies.”

“Nicole told me what Jesse did when they tried to give them to the team. They all gave them back and said they didn’t want them. I guess some parents got angry about that.”

“I’m sure they did. But in life, you will lose, and you need to learn how to do that from the time you’re little. I never, ever let my kids win a game. That way, when they finally DID win, they felt really good about it. What would have happened had I been letting them win?”

“Winning wouldn’t have mattered. And they wouldn’t have known if they actually won or you let them win.”

“Correct. And when we lose, if we learn from our mistakes, we improve our chances the next time.”

“Do you think there is any way I could be able to talk to you even after the trip?”

“Let’s wait until we’re back in Chicago. I’m sure I’ll see you at one of Jesse’s hockey games. We can talk during the game. I don’t want your parents to be upset or nervous. And that means you need to be careful about how you talk to them. I’m not saying don’t ask difficult questions or refrain from challenging them, but be smart about it. If you upset them, they’ll decide I’m a bad influence and then we won’t be able to talk.”

By the end of our shopping time, Natalie had decided on two very pretty, moderately priced lacquer boxes. I’d bought a more expensive pair for Kara and Jessica, and smaller gifts for the kids, including «матрёшка» for Jesse and Birgit. For him, it was a religious set, for her, it was a traditional peasant set. For Stephie, I found a lacquered rabbit toy, and I’d picked up other appropriate gifts for the rest of the kids.

We arrived back at the bus ten minutes before we were to depart, exactly as we’d promised Natalie’s parents. I’d made the point to her that part of gaining freedom was showing responsibility, and that meant being on time, among other things. Natalie showed her parents her purchases, and I chuckled when I saw Jesse walking out with a brand new «ушанка» on his head, despite the warm Moscow evening. (ushanka)

“Cool hat!” Chris said to Jesse.

“My old one doesn’t fit anymore. But I couldn’t find one with a Soviet star! So I bought a star, too, and Aunt Kara can sew it on for me.”

“No ‘Hero of the Soviet Union’ medals?” I asked.

“There was a shop that had some Soviet medals, but not that one,” he said. “I bought some general’s stars, too.”

“Of COURSE you did! What about a uniform?”

“Captain Dezhnyov took my measurements,” he grinned.

“Why not just go for Tsar?” I asked.

“Tsar Jesse I! Yes!”

“God help us,” Paul said, as all the adults laughed. “What did you buy, Mikey?”

“A Russian hockey jersey. They’re WAY less expensive here than back home.”

The tour guide called for all of us to board the bus, which we did, and a short time later we were sitting in a private room at a nice restaurant for dinner.

“One more game in Moscow,” I said. “What do you think?”

“We need to score more goals,” Nicole said. “I can’t carry the whole team!”

“Coach says our passing isn’t good enough,” Mikey said. “But it’s tough to get good passes out of our zone because they attack so hard. We’re lucky just to clear the puck to center ice to get our line changes.”

And that was, indeed, the source of the problem. If they could find some gaps to pass the puck out of their defensive zone cleanly, they could get some breakaway or ‘odd man’ rushes. That had happened a couple of times, and both times had resulted in Nicole scoring a goal.

“Supposedly the teams in Saint Petersburg aren’t quite as good,” Chris said. “We’ll be more evenly matched. I think they wanted the Moscow games to go their way.”

“I don’t think the fix was in,” I said. “Ice hockey is serious business here in Russia. If you think about the US, it’s mostly the northern tier of states. Sure, the NHL has put teams in places in the South, but they’re almost always in areas where retirees from New York and New England move, or at least spend their Winters. California is an aberration. If I understand the numbers, only Minnesota has more youth hockey teams than the city of Moscow and its surrounding area. Think about that! And you know most of the NHL players are Canadian.”

“True. But that’s changing.”

“Yes, with more Europeans, especially Russians and Swedes, in the past five years, and the American numbers are picking up, too, but Canada still dominates.”

“You kids are having fun, aren’t you?” Paul asked.

“Yes!” Jesse, Mikey, and Nicole all responded.

“Jesse,” I said. “Tomorrow, they’re going to present you with commemorative medals for playing here in Russia. They aren’t ‘participation’ trophies, but meant to show you took part in an international friendly competition that was meant to bring Russia and the USA closer together. I think you should accept them. The kids on the other teams will get them as well.”

“Dima talked to me about it already,” Jesse said. “He told me to think about it like military ribbons. We’re getting them for doing something important, not because of winning or losing. And not just because we showed up.”

“Sounds like the General has it well in hand!” Mary laughed.

“You don’t get to be a general officer by being an idiot,” I said. “Well, usually, anyway.”

When we finished our meal we made our way back to the bus which took us to the Moscow Hotel, where once again, our small group met for drinks while the Jesse, Mikey, Nicole, and their teammates hung out in various rooms playing games. As I had the night before, when I went upstairs I called home, and just as I was pulling out my computer, there was a knock at the door.

“Surprise, surprise,” I chuckled when I opened it to see Natalie.

“You’re not upset, right?”

“No, I was totally expecting you to show up. Come in.”

She did and I shut the door. We sat down, her on the couch, and me in a chair.

“So, what do you want to talk about tonight?” I asked.

“Well, you answered most of my questions about sex last night, so I want to know how you decided what to study in college and what job you wanted.”

“I didn’t really,” I said. “By that, I mean, I never had to make a decision. The first time I sat down with a computer, it was as if the universe had planned for that specific moment. And it really was perfect. I loved computers, and just started messing around with them, and then I started making money with them. It was so obvious to me that’s what I wanted to do for the rest of my life, that it was only a matter of deciding which college to go to. Even starting my own company was totally obvious because I’d done that in High School.”

“But there’s nothing like that for me, except volleyball, and that’s not exactly a career!”

“Oh?” I asked. “What does your volleyball coach do besides coach?”

“Teaches American Government. I haven’t had her yet, those classes are for Seniors.”

“What did she do in High School and college,” I prompted.

“She played volleyball. She had a partial scholarship for sports that helped her get her teaching degree.”

“So it is a career, then?”

“I hadn’t thought of it quite that way.”

“There are also college coaching jobs, the Y, the Park District, and so on. Maybe that’s not your full-time job, because I’m not sure what they pay, but you can certainly do those things, if you didn’t want to teach.”

“That’s such a simple solution, and I didn’t even think about it! And it’s something I could do when I eventually become a mom. I could take care of the kids but also coach volleyball. Wow!”

“And that’s just one way to look at it,” I said. “The master of the karate dojo where I teach is a book editor, which is how he earns his living. His schedule is flexible, so he can do both at the same time. Both of those things make him happy.”

“He’s not a full-time instructor?”

“In a sense, he is, but it’s difficult to make a good living teaching karate unless you have a very large school, and even then, if you want to get the best students, you have to keep the rates very affordable.”

“That makes sense.”

“The key to all of this is to do what makes you happy and fulfilled. That’s true about everything in life, in the end. What you don’t want to do is be miserable. And it’s entirely possible to be earning a good living, with a good job, and be completely miserable because you are unfulfilled or unhappy. Sometimes, happiness and fulfillment have to take priority over money, though obviously you need to earn enough to pay your bills, buy food, and so on.”

“But if you have lots of money, can’t you do the things you want to do?”

“Yes, and maybe that’s enough to make you happy. If so, then go for it. But most people want to do something or be something, not just be rich. Think about your parents. Do you think they’re happy?”

“Dad likes his job and Mom likes hockey and volleyball, and likes hanging out with us, so I think they are, yes.”

“Could they have more money to spend if your mom worked instead?”

“Sure.”

“So why doesn’t she?”

Natalie smiled, “Because what she’s doing makes her happy!”

“Exactly! Remember what I said the other day about making life an adventure? Well, this is a similar thing - you need to do what makes you happy, albeit, within certain limits.”

“So deciding I want to be a serial killer is out?” she smirked. “I mean, I have the hockey mask already!”

I chuckled, “Halloween costume?”

“Yes. Nicole and I dressed up as slashers for Halloween the last time I went trick-or-treating, which was about three years ago.”

“So you understand what I mean by limits?”

“I was being silly, obviously, but how do you decide the limits?”

“By never doing anything that will hurt someone, if you can help it. If you can’t, then doing it in a way that does the least possible harm. And remember, harm can be physical, mental, emotional, economic, or even moral.”

“Moral?”

“Getting someone to do something they might otherwise not want to do by pressuring them, for example.”

“So boys who try to get girls to have sex?”

“Yes, but just trying to do that isn’t the problem. Heck, that’s normal! It’s things like ‘if you really loved me, you would’. That right there has the potential for emotional, mental, physical, and moral harm. Or, say, a girl gets pregnant and her parents or boyfriend bully her into having an abortion, when she thinks it’s murder. Same thing.”

“So how do you know when you’re going to hurt someone?”

“Well, first you think about how you would feel if they did it to you. Do you go to church?”

“Most Sundays, yes.”

“Then you’ve heard, ‘Do unto others as you would have them do unto you’ said many times.”

“Whoa! Now I get that! Put yourself in their shoes!”

“Yes.”

“But sometimes you have to hurt someone, don’t you? Like if you want to break up with them.”