In Transit

The Aeroflot plane to Moscow was old. For the first time ever flying a major airliner I wondered if it would hold up for the journey. The signs of wear were everywhere, despite retrofitted coverings on all of the seats. Wood edging on the doorways and baggage compartments gave it a distinctly nautical feel and as we climbed, shuddered and groaned our way into the air to a winterscape made of clouds, I was reminded of the Titanic. 

En route, I read an article that explained why Russian Caviar was so expensive.  The Beluga Sturgeon comes from the Caspian, Black and Adriatic seas, and was nearly fished to extinction.  Severe limits were put on the fishery in 2007.  Today, the price per kilo of Beluga Sturgeon caviar ranges from 250$ - $5,000.  Yikes!

We landed in Moscow and everyone clapped.  I was left to wonder...was there a doubt?  Somehow the response was more sinister than the clapping that occurs when everyone lands safely in Hawaii or Mexico.  

Moscow International Airport was modern and refined, however, my transfer to the domestic airport cost about $110 (2,650 ruples) by cab.  

Scam is a nasty word, especially as a North American looking at the promise of love overseas, however, that's what this was.  I landed in Moscow International and the signs were all Cyrillic; alien to me.  I was rushed and didn't know how far away the domestic terminal was located (has anyone ever been caught on the ring road between London and Gatwick as the clock ticks inexorably down?).  The unofficial cab drivers were there, talking English in quick reassuring tones, promising official receipts and warning me of the urgent need to get to the terminal on time.  I figured I was being scammed, but I had no way of checking.  

The trip to the domestic airport was obscenely short, and a domestic Russian paid 3$ for the same trip.  A bus would have taken me there in minutes for only 1$.  I have traveled extensively, and was chagrined that I fell for it, but what can one do?

Eventually, I ended up in Pyatigorsk.  Keep in mind, that my destination was determined by the work I was doing, not by women I was hoping to meet.  However, it was in Pyatigorsk that I met Tatiana. 

An Auspicious Beginning

It was fall of 2008 when I landed in Kiev, en route to Russia.  I was reading a spy novel where the hero had just done the same and I had images in my mind of narrow streets and dangerous car chases.  The reality of Kiev was so much more than I expected though.  My first impressions are best described through my travel log at the time:

Monday September 22^nd 2008

3:39 AM Local

The jet lag rattled me awake this morning at about 3AM. I've had one full day in Kiev and I'm heading out to Moscow on Aeroflot this morning. My flights were all brilliant. No waits, no problems at the borders. I arrived in Kiev Saturday in time for a short nap and some dinner: Borscht of course, and a nutty tasting veal in wild mushrooms.

Sunday it rained. And rained. And rained. But that being said it was still beautiful out. I walked a little further away from the hotel than Saturday night, and Kiev is really quite impressive. It suffers none of the fates as Georgia; it is modern, full of beautiful architecture, full of shops, gardens, churches, nice cars and gorgeous women.

Kiev is probably the sexiest place I've visited so far in my travels...perhaps even more than the France-Italy border. Women are generally attractive, but almost exclusively in good shape and they largely dress to emphasize that. Perhaps half the female population wears high, and really I mean HIGH heels and boots. High fashion jeans, skirts tops...it's a living rock video.

And unlike a recent trip to Vienna, where of course fashion is also king, the women here...actually the people here, all touch. There is no safety bubble around them, couples stroll through town not only holding hands, but really engaged in one another's physical space. Romance is alive and well in Kiev in a way I haven't seen for years. It is heartening.

Of course the men drink enormously. Many of them are drinking all day and all the time, and everywhere you look are groups of guys with the countenance of hard drinkers. They look like Russian bad guys in American movies.

I toured through St. Sophias cathedral today, an 11^th C cathedral topped in the Russian Orthodox style (I think?); huge church built of really thick stone walls that gave it a primal presence that I sometimes prefer to the finer architecture of later European styles. Not as grand and soaring, but easier to conceive of the massive challenges the masons had to overcome to build such places. Or maybe it's just the presence.

On my way back to the hotel, I watched the Renault race car demonstration on a street that had been cordoned off for several kilometres. I gathered at the sidelines with thousands of others, under umbrellas in the rain, and was rewarded with the shockingly loud screaming of a jet powered car ripping by us at speeds that looked like they were trying to achieve liftoff.

I actually downplayed my impressions of the women for the travel log which was being read by a number of people who's first interests may not have been as focused as I was.  Suffice it to say, that this was my first breathless moment.  I was incredulous.  On the cordoned off rainy streets of Kiev, there were stunning women everywhere - and dressed in a manner that set my pulse racing as fast as the cars.  It was just so much to take in; I was gawking foolishly, almost injuring myself trying not to miss anything, when one of the Renault race cars would go screaming by and I'd breathe again with a whoop and a grin.

It was, to say the least, an auspicious beginning.

JF

Online beauty.

With blond hair past her shoulder blades, Oksana has the tender doe eyed look of a beauty queen.  She is a nurse and describes herself as a sensual romantic looking for her soul mate.  She wants a deep connection to a man, at least 38, who cares to learn who she is inside.  Her pictures are soft, with her in a miniskirt and high heels, or a short, pretty pink dress.  She is 25.

Ekaterina is 23, stylish and relatively conservative and looking for her One and Only.  A pharmacist, in her photographs she wears a short flowery dress and heels or black pants with a stylish patterned bustier type top and a glittering belt buckle.  She is looking for a man, 26-41.

Alisa is still a student, 19, and looks like a runway model.  She likes modern music and movies, nights out, riding horses and walking in gardens.  She wears a modern looking short dress, a red bustier and matching thong, shorts and a purple tee-shirt.  Always in heels.  She is looking for a man who is honest and reliable, who wants children and family, and is at least 34.

Angelina is a knockout.  She has long dark hair, down past the middle of her back, and a knowing devilish smile.  She is shown wearing jeans and a shear blouse over black bra, or a classic short grey dress.  At 20, she too is a student and is looking for a reliable gentle man who is himself at least 20.

Anna is 25.  She owns her own salon, and with long blond hair and Norwegian features, looks like a fitness model.  Her pictures are fun and sexy, from the bedroom cop outfit, to a short tank top and underwear, she looks like a Victoria Secret model.  She looks for a confident man, at least 30, who will appreciate her love and be loyal to her. 

Galina is a lawyer, she's 24, with a fun smile and mischievous eyes.  She is photographed in short dresses, purple, blue or black, and heels.  Her platinum blonde hair is almost to her waist.  She is looking for a man who will have his own opinions, but listen to and respect her opinion as well.

These profiles, and thousands more, starred out of my screen when I first looked online.  Initially, I was simply shocked at how beautiful the women were.  Even compensating for the fact that the photographs are professionally shot, the women were just gorgeous.  And sexy! 

And frankly, I couldn't reconcile the professions with the photographs.  I kept thinking that there was no way an economist, or a lawyer or a doctor could look so...good!  I think that if I grew up with teachers that looked anything like the photographs I was viewing, I wouldn't have remembered a thing (despite paying a lot more attention!). 

I think that part of the problem is that in North America, and perhaps in Europe, a woman who is beautiful at an early age, often doesn't have to do anything else.  Men trip over her from her teenage years, and she accepts, and even expects, that behavior as normal.  Without the external drive, many of these women fall into the trap of having the world provide for them, instead of challenging themselves to become better.  I think of it as the Paris Hilton syndrome. More on that later.

Needless to say, in the weeks before I went to Russia, I spent several hours looking at several different International Dating sites online.  Bit by bit, I realized, that at least in the photographs, I tended to prefer the look of the Ukrainians to the Russians.  Mind you, the differences were pretty subtle.  Nonetheless, I slowly focused on one city as being the possible Nexus of the Universe for stunning women, and determined that I would fly to Moscow, via Kiev.

JF

Why do Ukrainian women want European/American guys? The numbers argument.

I can only tell you what I have learned; there are several answers to the "why?" question.  One is simply mathematics.  So humor me my analysis:

According to the CIA world fact book, in both Russia and the Ukraine, there are just 9 men for every 10 women between the ages of 15 and 64.  This might not seem like a big difference, but imagine, in a room of 100 women 10 will not find mates.  Now consider that in North America, in the same age group, there are equal numbers of men and women and yet, at any given time there are bright, attractive women and worthy men without partners.

I wasn't just saying that 10% of Ukrainian women were single, I was saying that 10% of the women will never find mates.  Ever.

And it gets worse.  By 65, the ratio drops to 2 women for every man.
It becomes easy to imagine how tough it might be for a woman in the Ukraine.  She's beautiful, but so are many of her friends.  She is educated, but so are almost all of her friends.  And despite all the things she does to stand out, to be unique, to attract attention, there just aren't that many guys.

And along comes the internet, and suddenly guys are everywhere.  And they even seem like decent guys...

JF

A first look at Russia

To me, Russia was exotic:  A massive country, more Asia than Europe, but with a rich European heartland politically divided  for years behind the iron curtain.  Russia recalled to me images of Czar's, of a beautiful Anastasia, big fur lined hats, fields of snow and the sweeping vistas in the 1965 movie Dr. Zhivago.  And perhaps nothing captured the sense of the exotic unknown more than the turbaned spires of St. Basils in Red Square.

In 2008, as a scientist on a NATO project, I was to go to Russia.  We were going to a conference in Pyatigorsk, a small city (~140,000) between the Caspian and Black seas.  This would be followed by a regional field trip and finally an expedition into the Northern Caucuses on the Russian side of the border with Georgia.

I was thrilled.

I began looking up Russia on the internet, and as surfing goes, one thing lead to another and I found myself faced with thousands of gorgeous pictures of Russian women.

Now I have traveled a lot, and there are beautiful women in many countries.  In particular, the delicate exotic oriental beauty of the Asian countries, the ripe sensuality of South America (where I have not yet been), the sophistication of northern Italy or France, the healthy glow of Canadian women...a comprehensive list would take hours. 

And yet. 

Something about the photographs I was seeing sent signals to my reptile brain that I couldn't ignore.  The pictures of Russian women promised both the exotic unknown, with a recognizable familiarity of Caucasian features.  These days, I associate an underlying intelligence with those images, but in all likelihood, I was simply struck by the plethora of beautiful women. 

Now I should say, that "Russian Women" usually includes all of the former Soviet Union:  Russia, Moldova, Belarus, and especially, the Ukraine.

So for my first trip to Russia, despite the serious intentions of a scientific study, I now had a new, less formal inquiry in my mind; could the women be anything like what I was seeing online?

Time would tell...

JF