Sometimes, when you travel to a place with a different environment, you experience a shock to your system. If you've just spent a week in sunny Miami, and then return home to cold and wet New York for Christmas, you might feel a climate shock. The sudden change of weather--stepping out of the airport and into the parking lot to see the ice envelop the cars--it can take a bit of time to adjust too. I didn't feel any immediate climate shock when I stepped off the train to St. Petersburg; despite the four-hour distance, both Moscow and St. Petersburg are somewhat similar climate-wise, although St. Petersburg certainly has bodies of water. It wasn't until a few days had passed that I began to feel a different kind of climate shock. In Moscow, we juked past masses of tourists and natives alike to navigate a Byzantine metro system, we walked marathons across the capital, and we woke up early and scrambled to meet as many speakers as possible. It was a lot of work--to the point where it even affected my health--but I am still grateful for the experience, even if it was hectic. But you simply can't continue at that kind of pace for more than five days; at some point, the team will crash. And so, I was pleased to see a far less hectic schedule for St. Petersburg. It's been great to mellow out more and also enjoy the city. After just a week in Russia, I can see why they say, "You come to Moscow to find work, you come to St. Petersburg to find love."
Author: zlowy
Kroos Saves Germany From The Dead
It's fascinating how one fleeting moment can decide not only the course of a team's future, but the atmosphere of a nation. When Germany came up against Sweden last night, they were in need of a moment, a jolt of energy, a wake up call to save the lives of a team falling asleep at the wheel. After winning the World Cup in 2014, and after winning the Confederations Cup--despite resting their entire first team for the summer--as well as the U-21 Euros last summer, many had expected Germany to reclaim their World Cup glory. However, after Mexico shocked the Germans on Match Day 1 with a 1-0 win, and after Sweden went ahead with an early goal from Ola Toivonen, the defending champions found themselves with their backs pressed against the wall. Had the halftime score of 1-0 held, Germany would have been eliminated full stop. Soon though, Marco Reus equalized. Max Bottcher, who is a native German, began chanting and grew hopeful. The tension rose when Jerome Boateng, who was a rock in the middle of Germany's World Cup-winning defense four years ago, got sent off. Just when it seemed all hope was lost though, with Sweden set to go into the final matchday three points ahead of Germany, Toni Kroos swung a gorgeous curler into the goal, past Sweden's mammoth goalkeeper. The entire nation of Germany went crazy--the first time they have been truly riled up since that fateful final in Rio. Max, sharing in his countrymen's jubilations, ran into the streets, jumped for joy, and sang the praises of a Germany team which, after passing through the valley of darkness, are now back in the hunt for glory.
An Ode to the Moscow Metro
Yesterday, I discovered a confusing element of the Moscow metrorail system. While I had intended to Smolenskaya, I actually ended up in....Smolenskaya. That’s right, there are two Smolenskaya stops, separated in definition by a color difference; while one Smolenskaya is on the light blue rail, another is on the dark blue rail (good luck to any color-blind tourists trying to figure that one out). Furthermore, there are, as I learned later, two Arbatskaya stops. It certainly confused me and delayed my journey, but I leave Moscow with positive memories of the metro, from its efficient passage system, to its well-run security, to its efficient trains, to its helpful natives who aid tourists in need of help. Perhaps I will even remember with fondness the screeching and hissing of the crowded rush-hour train as it races down the tracks in need to send its commuters to work on time.
Fun at the FIFA Fan Fest
I didn’t expect much as I ambled past the zoo and past the long sidewalk en route to the FIFA Fan Fest. If anything, I expected a large crowd jostling each other to get a look at a giant TV. What I received was much greater, though. After making it past security, I saw a bustling fan store, where fans from all over the world perused through merchandise, which ranged from jerseys of the Panamanian national team to keychains of Zabivaka—the one who scores—or the toy wolf mascot who has endeared himself to visiting fans. Eventually, I got to a charger station, where people would charge their electronic devices and crowd around the tent talking football. I managed to survey several people there—when you don’t have electronics, and when you don’t have a game to watch, and when you have to stay near to keep an eye on your phone, there’s pretty much no way they would say no to the survey. I translated the surveys into Spanish and Italian for some people, and I met some great fellow fans. Later, I would go on to the middle of the fest, and kick around a soccer ball with other fans, as we watched Iran take on Spain. It was, as FIFA surely intended, the ultimate fan experience.
Same Cathedral, Different Russia
It says a lot about a country when in the space of a few miles, you can see both an emblem of the nation’s glorious past as well as a testament to its promising future. This was certainly the case during my tour of Moscow this week, as I walked through Red Square and saw the Kremlin, Zaryadye Park, and greatest of all, Saint Peter’s Cathedral. The cathedral, which goes head to head with Europe’s most impressive churches, was flooded on the outside by tourists attempting to get a selfie with the iconic cathedral in the background. I certainly did not miss the opportunity to snap a few myself, but I was more impressed with Zaryadye Park. The park, which opened last autumn, is a testament to Russia’s avant-garde city planning. It includes a “floating bridge,” which overlooks the Moscow River, as well as a multi-purpose concert hall. From its intriguing architecture to its daring innovation, Russia, after all these years, remains at the forefront of culture.
Moroccan Madness
For the first time since 1998, Morocco played in the World Cup. While they failed to live up to the promise shown under veteran coach Hervé Renard, becoming mathematically eliminated after two losses, they still have plenty to be excited about. Apart from Morocco’s burgeoning talents in Hakimi Achraf and Amine Harit, who respectively turned away attention from Spain and France to represent the Atlas Lions, Morocco can take solace in the fact that their fans absolutely rocked the show. While Portuguese fans were few and far between, despite having won the Euros 2 years ago, Moroccan fans dominated the atmosphere and filled the air with their raucous songs. They echoed their hymns through the Luzhniki metro station, they bellowed out the national anthem from the top of their lungs, and they didn’t stop chanting, even after the game, when many people would be swallowing throat lozenges just to ease their hoarse throats. It was contagious passion; I found myself joining along for the occasional “Vive Le Maroc.” Furthermore, they had a sense of humor. When Cristiano Ronaldo had the ball, they would chant “Messi” and “Cristiano Vaffanculo,” (perhaps the latter is a tad abrasive, but the point stands). “Cristiano Vaffanculo” turned to “FIFA Vaffanculo” whenever the refs would fail to give a Portuguese player a booking for an aggressive tackle. Cristiano’s early goal ended any chances of Morocco progressing, but Morocco’s fans will doubtless have relished the experience to see their team compete in the biggest tournament in football for the first time in 20 years.
Football: The World’s Greatest Unifier
As I was making my way through the thick post-game crowds at Otrikiye Stadium, I noticed two peculiar jerseys in the back. Of course, throughout the course of the Poland-Senegal game, I had spotted an array of interesting kits, from one featuring Senegal’s backup defender Kara Mbodji, to one featuring Argentina’s 2nd choice goalkeeper Willy Caballero, to one USA kit with the word “COVFEFE” on the back, referring to President Trump’s misspelled 2017 tweet which has since ascended to Internet fame. But the ones that most caught my eye were the beautiful Nigeria kits, which featured Russian letters on the back. I stopped to chat with the two brothers, who had flown over 11 hours from Dhaka, Bangladesh, to witness the World Cup in person. The Bangladeshi pair had purchased Nigerian kits, often regarded as the most beautiful jersey from the 2018 World Cup, and then printed their names on the back, but with Russian letters. It’s just another example of the cultural fusion that has become a common theme of this World Cup. When I went to the Poland-Senegal game, most of the people wearing the Senegal kit were Caucasian, while most of those wearing the Moroccan kit were native Moroccans. And while most of the Polish fans were native speakers, most of the Portuguese fans were of Pan-Asian descent. It is a testament to football’s power to unite different people, different cultures, and different regions. It is a testament to why football is the most powerful unifier the world has.
Talking With Tino
At first, I didn’t believe it. Then, the kids began to flock to him and asked him for an autographs. I was less skeptical, but I still wasn’t convinced. So I approached his younger friend, who I presumed was his son, and asked where he was from. “Colombia,” he answered. I asked if his father was an ex-footballer, and he nodded. Then, I turned to the elder gentelman, and asked with bated breath: “Hola. Eres Faustino Asprilla.” “Sí.” Faustino Asprilla, one of the greatest footballers in Colombian history, was standing right besides me at Lotte Hotel, watching Brazil take on Switzerland. We chatted for around 15 minutes, and there has never been a point in my life where I have felt more grateful to have become fluent in Spanish. I asked him about Colombia, about his footballing career, and about the game in general. He’s the kind of guy who has a larger-than-life impact, yet who still treats you like an equal. When Philippe Coutinho picked up the ball and struck it, Asprilla immediately called it: “Gol.” Surely enough, the shot floated into the top corner, leaving both the fans and players in a state of shock. But not Asprilla. When you’ve been a world-class striker, you just have a superhuman instinct to tell which goals will be goals. It was a surreal experience to be able to talk to such a legendary player. In what has been a trip jam-packed with conversations with marketing leaders and soccer chiefs, nothing tops shooting the breeze with “Tino.”