November: 27
| 28 | 29 | 30
December: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31
January: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13
Map
Tuesday, November 27, 1990
I was woken up, still on
the train, by Svetlana's friend, a woman journalist, asking me if I would like some tea.
So, I had tea and cookies, with a vitamin, for breakfast. I spent the morning looking out
of the window, talking with Svetlana, and playing with Lusha. We lunched on carrots,
salami, and bread.
We arrived in Moscow at about 14:00. I went to Igor N.'s by metro. As soon as I got
there, I took a long shower and washed some clothes. Afterwards, I made some phone calls.
I had milk and toast with Igor for dinner.
Wednesday, November 28, 1990
Igor woke me up at 09:00 for a breakfast of tea, hot dogs, and noodles, with a vitamin.
I had gone to bed early the night before, and had woken up in the middle of the night,
hungry and dreaming of McDonalds, after six hours of sleep. I decided that since I was
dreaming of McDonalds, I had already been in the Soviet Union too long.
I went by bus, metro, and mini-bus to visit the Foundation for Social Innovation,
sometimes also called the Foundation for Social Invention. I met with Alexei of the Bank
of Ideas to talk about my problem with the Teleport, and with Dimitri to talk about FSI.
Alexei was smug and indifferent to my case. Dimitri was enthusiastic and dynamic. He
showed me his video of their joint Finnish-Soviet bicycle action, from the new Valaam
monastery in Finland to old Valaam on lake Ladoga, in the Soviet Union.
After stopping for pastry, I went to the U.S. Embassy by metro. I went to American
Citizen Services at 13:00, but it was closed until 14:00. I sat down in a chair outside
the closed door, but got bumped from that area, because it was "confidential,"
into the "Immigration and Refugee" area to wait. I registered, without a
passport check, and reported being harassed on the metro last Monday. Since I had not been
detained for any length of time, they were uninterested. I got two forms for private
invitations.
I then went to look for a dollar shop. I found a Beriozka, which contained only
Soviet-made dry goods. I ate ice cream, bought cookies, and "periogi." I bought
a copy of MOSCOW magazine, and went back to Igor N.'s by metro and bus. I made some phone
calls, drank tea, and ate cookies. In the evening, we talked intensively. I reviewed his
proposed agreement with Jim O., the Davenport, Iowa, insurance agent who wrote
Gorbachev asking about
making bicycle tour exchanges, his Cycle Path to Peace.
Thursday, November 29, 1990
I had brunch, and a deep talk with Igor N. Then I went to meet Igor R. at Prospect Marx
metro station. We went to a nearby cafe for ice cream, and to discuss his SovAm Teleport
contract. He was scamming women with class.
Afterwards, I walked to Alphagraphics. I met a young Middlebury graduate there, who was
doing a tobacco market study for a Canadian company. He had a Russian jeep, and a Russian
assistant, who was a part-time river raft guide for Soviet Travels. I hitched a ride with
them to the Information Moscow office, located in a diplomatic compound. We both bought
copies of their latest issue, for $18 each. He scammed me for $1 for the ride, claiming he
only had $17.
Then I took metro and bus to the office of the
Transnational
Radical Party. I met Nikolaj and Alexander, and was positively impressed by these
young long-hairs with primo equipment. They were connected with the Italian Agoranet via Infocom, the Soviet- Finnish joint
venture, Teleport's rival.
I went to meet Igor R. for dinner. I waited an hour, and he never showed. Stressing on
hunger, I made the supreme sacrifice and blew $11 on salad, Pepsi, and pizza at Pizza Hut.
It was a bizarre cultural experience. What a trip, it was just like home. I felt like I
had regressed.
Friday, November 30, 1990
I got up and left, with only a cup of warm water and a vitamin for breakfast. I went by
bus and metro to Sviet's apartment to meet Denis, a young interpreter and liaison with the
Social-Ecological Union's travel group.
We walked to their new office, and met with Vladimir Z., who was excessively pragmatic
being only interested in concrete projects. Though, he eventually came around and even
suggested a roundtable on environmentally and culturally responsible tourism at their
March conference. Around noon, Denis and the others went to pick up some new furniture,
and left me on their lovely new computer system, compliments of ISAR and Elton John.
Bill P. of New York City, and his Sacred Earth
Network, had just recently helped set them up with the Teleport for telecommunication.
I read my email, but lost the capture due to inexperience with their software. After their
return, Denis and I went to look for a restaurant, which proved very difficult to find.
Finally, we found a little canteen. We at four roubles worth of soup and salad, which he
insisted on paying. I had seen one of the others slip him some cash earlier. Vladimir St.,
of the Ecopolis of Peace Association, came by before I left to introduce to Sviet someone
trying to organize a new political party.
I went to meet Igor R. for dinner. We went to a good young people's hangout for coffee,
and met some of his friends. We had great difficulty finding a restaurant. Finally, we got
a place in a cooperative restaurant in the city center by bribing the doorman with ten
roubles. The dinner was good, but not plentiful, and cost 45 roubles. I returned to Igor
N.'s by metro.
Saturday, December 1, 1990
I stayed in all day to work on the computer. I connected to the Teleport for an hour in
the morning, to download email, and an hour in the evening, to upload email. For lunch, I
made chicken soup, using a foil packet of freeze-dried chicken I brought from the US,
bullion cubes from Austria, cayenne pepper from Germany, and a little packet of instant
ketchup. With bread, it made a good meal. Igor claimed he wasn't hungry. We had tea and
sandwiches together in the evening. I donated my tube of condensed milk from Austria to
the household. Alla came back from the Ukraine with a new car, and driver. Roman claimed
it was smaller than the one they really wanted. I borrowed Roman's alarm clock.
>Date: 02-Dec-90 09:34 CST
>From: >INTERNET:cdp!mendicott
>Subj: disconnected
>
>Sender: cdp!mendicott
>Received: from ARISIA.XEROX.COM by saqqara.cis.ohio-state.edu
> (5.61-kk/5.901120) id AA03770; Sat, 1 Dec 90 05:54:42 - 0500
>From: cdp!mendicott
>Received: from cdp.UUCP by arisia.Xerox.COM with UUCP
> (5.61+/IDA-1.2.8/gandalf) id AA07309; Fri, 30 Nov 90 23:55:09 -0800
>Message-Id: <9012010755.AA07309@arisia.Xerox.COM>
>Date: Fri, 30 Nov 90 23:55:09 -0800
>To: 72330.72@compuserve.com
>Subject: disconnected
>
>Am okay. Got disconnected from system. Longer message will
>follow. Marcus.
>Date: 01-Dec-90 16:00 CST
>From: >INTERNET:cdp!mendicott
>Subj: Online Again
>
>Sender: cdp!mendicott
>Received: from ARISIA.XEROX.COM by saqqara.cis.ohio-state.edu
> (5.61-kk/5.901120) id AA08760; Sat, 1 Dec 90 08:54:31 - 0500
>From: cdp!mendicott
>Received: from cdp.UUCP by arisia.Xerox.COM with UUCP
> (5.61+/IDA-1.2.8/gandalf) id AA13671; Sat, 1 Dec 90 05:29:50 -0800
>Message-Id: <9012011329.AA13671@ariasia.Xerox.COM>
>Date: Sat, 1 Dec 90 05:29:50 -0800
>To: 72330.72@compuserve.com
>Subject: Online Again
>
>Dear Dad,
>
>On Monday, November 19, late in the evening, I was literally pulled
>off the Moscow metro by two young, nice looking plain-clothes guys waiving
>IDs. They did not detain me long, just checked my passport, visa, and
>businss card.
>
>The next day I was disconected from the Sovam Teleport, which I had
>been using surrepticiously by piggybacking on someone else's hard currency
>contract.
>(Now I'm doing the same, but on a rouble contract; thus, I can't
>access Compuserve. You'll have to figure out how to send from Compuserve
>to EcoNet via Internet. I believe that I sent you the directions via
>e-mail; if not, you can probably find out how to do it on Compuserve.)
>
>[Please search the Compuserve user base for the logon of Louis
>D'Amore of Montreal, Canada, for me. Perhaps try variations of spelling,
>DeAmore, D'Amour, etc.]
>
>On Wednesday, I went to the Ukraine by overnight train for a long
>weekend to speak at a New Age/Holistic Health conference about Rainbow and
>tovisit a Russian spiritual community in the village of Orechovka, near
>what is now the city of Lugansk but used to be Vorosilovgrad. The
>community is what amounts to the cult of the modern Russian saint Parfiry
>Ivanov (1898-1983) I stayed in Ivanov's former home with Russian friends
>who live there that I met in Brussels last year.
>
>I went to the our Embassy after my return to Moscow to register and
>report the incident of the previous Monday. There were uninterested,
>saying effectively "That's life in Moscow."
>
>I'm keeping busy meeting with different groups and individuals at
>least twice a day, roaring around Moscow in the underground tubes of the
>metro. Food is beginning to become more of a problem. Rationing
>everything is supposed to go into effect here in Moscow today, December 1.
>I went to Pizza Hut for the first time the other night. It is hard
>currency only. It was a bit of a shock, as it is a stunning facsimile of
>home. I had been resisting te hard currency places, such as McDonalds and
>Baskin Robbins, etc. But a friend stood me up for dinner, and I hadn't
>had a good meal for two days; so I felt I regressed... or perhaps took my
>first step toward returning home.
>
>I'm not getting any writing done, other than struggling to keep up with my
>journal and some computer networking. The great idea of finishing (or
>even starting) the book here no longer seems realizable.
>
>On November 15, I requested a visa extension to January 15, but was
>only granted until the 12th. After the recent UN security council
>decision, now I know why.
>
>There is no proper competition on Moscow to New York flights.
>Aeroflot, Pan Am, and Finn Air all charge almost $1700 one way. Pan Am
>says tha a round trip three week advance purchase excursion (APEX) fare is
>about $1028 pre-paid from the US. Please look into this for me, and if
>possible, make a reservation on or just before January 12. Also ask about
>a bicycle (Pan Am said it would cost about $150 more!)
>
>Thanks. Love, Marcus
Sunday, December 2, 1990
  I was up before
the sun, at 06:00. I gradually prepared to leave. I ate a vitamin and a pack of
Traubenzucker, from Austria. I went by bus and metro to meet Vladimir Sy. in the middle of
a metro station. We then took a metro and bus to the Crane Worker's Institute, where the
Cosmos Club meets. Vladimir insisted on using the literal translation, and called it the
Space Club.
They had an interesting temporary bulletin board, and used book sale. We spent all
morning doing Koltunov autosuggestion jogging in groups, which seemed like some new age
Frankenstein, a cross between military cadences and creative visualization. Afterwards, we
sat in on yoga classes. Later, I gave a talk on Rainbow to well over 100 people, and sang
a peace song. I was presented with a flower and a Roerich
pin from the museum outside Leningrad.
  I took a bus
and metro to meet Denis. We went to his apartment for a great lunch of blins, jam, and
coffee. Then we took a taxi to see the Blinov's collection. Their apartment was packed
with toys, literally from floor to ceiling. We spent a very interesting evening with
Gennady, Peter, the mom, aunt, and grandmother. We enjoyed Georgian food, and drink. I got
presented with lots of toys, and learned a lot about their cultural and spiritual context.
I was particularly interested in what this retired psychiatrist had to say about the pagan
whistling figurines, which were apparently once used for healing.
I took the bus and metro back to Igor N.'s. I worked on the computer until late. I
connected with the Teleport and downloaded email, but nothing interesting. In the night, I
dreamt that I was living in some extremely isolated alternative community, almost
completely cutoff. Under pressure, we had some kind of Lord of the Flies conflict with
someone, forcing me to leave. I barely got out alive.
Monday, December 3, 1990
I got up and prepared to leave, but Dimitri called to cancel our morning meeting. I
called Denis to relay the news. I hung around for a while, then went into the city to hunt
for food. Igor was noticeably slowing up on feeding me. I found a good worker's cafeteria,
where I had soup, meat, juice, and coffee. Along the street, I found ice-cream with real
fruit in it.
In the afternoon, I went to the END90 conference committee meeting at a conference
hall. I saw Sviet, Alexander, Dimitri, and met a number of other people, including Vadim,
from the Moscow Green Party, and also a Polish guy from the Buddhist Center in Warsaw.
There were blatant differences between the old groups and the new ones. I had the distinct
impression that the proceedings were some kind of parody.
 Afterwards, I went to visit the Rainbow Computer Club, and ended up telling them in detail about
our Rainbow movement. They were delighted, and told me of the crystal they received in
1988. Their work seems to form the majority of FSI's programs. I returned late by metro
and bus.
>Date: 05-Dec-90 13:41 CST
>From: >INTERNET:cdp!mendicott
>Subj: getting the message
>
>Sender: cdp!mendicott
>Received: from [13.1.100.206] by saqqara.cis.ohio-state.edu
> (5.61-kk/5.901120) id AA22268; Tue, 4 Dec 90 01:23:55 - 0500
>From: cdp!mendicott
>Received: from cdp.UUCP by arisia.Xerox.COM with UUCP
> (5.61+/IDA-1.2.8/gandalf) id AA28433; Mon, 3 Dec 90 14:34:46 -0800
>Message-Id: <9012032234.AA28443@ariasia.Xerox.COM>
>Date: Mon, 3 Dec 90 14:34:46 -0800
>To: 72330.72@compuserve.com
>Subject: getting the message
>
>Dad, what's groovin'? Are these internet transfers getting
>through?
>Don't forget my telex number, 150240522, if you can't figure out
>internet. Love, Marcus.
Tuesday, December 4, 1990
I woke Igor up to ask about the metro for Novosti. He ask me about my "immediate
plans," and did not seem happy.
At Novosti, I met Victor Rudenko of the new ECOS magazine. We had coffee in the coffee
shop there. Afterwards, I went to a nearby Beriozka and bought a transport map, metro
postcards, and Russian chocolate for hard currency. The women there seemed to give me a
price break on the printed stuff.
For lunch, I went to the big GUM department store, which seemed more like a covered
European market. I had salad, chicken, and juice. I toured the whole store, and bought a
warm scarf for 13 roubles. In the Soviet Union, first one must pay the cashier and get a
receipt before getting the article one wants.
I went to change money at the main Intourist office, but they sent me across red Square
to Hotel Russia. I bought an interesting restaurant guide there for $3. I toured the Arbat
pedestrian mall, and had an ice-cream sundae, before going to Igor R.'s apartment. I spent
the evening there with Viktoria, and some more Igor's friends. She filled out the private
invitation forms for her and her boyfriend. I went back late by metro and bus. The
Teleport number was not answering when I got back.
Wednesday, December 5, 1990
I stayed in all day to work on the computer. Igor invited me to have some tea in the
morning and broke the news to me that he was not happy with me for staying so long. We
decided that I would pay him $100, and leave for Leningrad on Monday. This palpably
reduced the tension. I ate apples, tangerines, and chocolate for lunch. Igor invited me to
join him for soup and sandwiches for dinner. I worked very hard uploading and downloading
information. Though still no word from Dad. I revised and printed my Moscow contact list.
I got a number of phone calls in the evening, to arrange meetings for the next few days.
>Date: 06-Dec-90 05:21 CST
>From: >INTERNET:labrea.stanford.edu!cdp!mendicott
>Subj: still no echo
>
>Sender: labrea.stanford.edu!cdp!mendicott
>Received: from labrea.stanford.EDU by saqqara.cis.ohio-state.edu
> (5.61-kk/5.901120) id AA08952; Wed, 5 Dec 90 16:26:07 - 0500
>Received: by labrea.stanford.edu; Wed, 5 Dec 90 12:25:37 PST
>Date: Wed, 5 Dec 90 12:25:37 PST
>From: labrea.stanford.edu!cdp!mendicott
>Message-Id: <9012052025.AA27667@labrea.stanford.edu>
>To: 72330.72@compuserve.com
>Subject: still no echo
>
>Hi! Still nothing in here from you. I'll give it a few more days,
>and perhaps try to call this weekend or after I go to Leningrad next
>week.
>Love, Marcus.
Thursday, December 6, 1990
I had breakfast with Igor, before going by bus, metro, and bus again to visit Vadim of
the Moscow Green Party. We had an interesting two hour discussion over tea.
  I went to
McDonalds for lunch, at Igor's encouragement. I had two Big Mac's, fries, coke, apple pie,
and a shake that I didn't think I ordered, all for 20 roubles. I sat with two cute teenage
girls who giggled the whole time. The exterior design of the McDonalds building is really
symbolic. There is a stylized break in the roof that allows in light through a protruding
atrium. The line to get in faces this monument. I never dreamed that my health would ever
be dependent on McDonalds. It is a Canadian franchise, and is the largest one in the
world.
Afterwards, I went to Alphagraphics to photocopy the Polish Rainbow flyer for hard
currency. I also went by the MOSCOW NEWS editorial office to inquire about subscribing. No
on there knew anything about subscribing. I tried to use the private international pay
phone in the Intourist hotel; but, they had had no prepay coupons available for two weeks.
I mailed four postcards there to New York City, announcing my impending arrival. When I
returned to Igor's, I connected with the Teleport and finally got a reply from Dad.
>From labrea!72330.72@compuserve.com Phu Dec 6 04:28 PST 1990
>>From 72330.72@compuserve.com Thu Dec 6 03:32:48 1990 remote from labrea
>Date: 06 Dec 90 06:15:03 EST
>From: "M.L. Endicott [72330,72]" labrea!72330.72@CompuServe.COM
>To: cdp!mendicott@compuserve.com
>Subject: getting the message
>
>Dear Marcus,
> The messages are getting through just fine. Where have you
>been? Was getting worried. All is just fine here, though Nanny is
>currently in the hospital with a bad attack of arthritis -- she may be
>getting out today.
> Have been unable to locate any Louis d'Amore on CompuServe with
>any kind of reasonable variation.
> Have looked in to getting you a ticket -- a little over $1,000
>if you buy 21 days in advance. Could not find out about bike. Give me a
>ring on the telephone ASAP and let's discuss -- particularly since I do
>not know if this message will get through OK.
> Take good care of yourself. Love, Dad
Friday, December 7, 1990
I got up and left, without seeing the others. I was dying of thirst. I went to the
snack bar outside the Intourist hotel. I had a sandwich and four cups of Pepsi.
 I met Denis in the metro. We went to
interview his mother about her traditional culture work for the Soros Foundation. We had a good lunch in the music
institute cafeteria. Afterwards, we went to meet Peter and speak to the Moscow State University geography club. The
university building is truly monstrous, built by political prisoners. I had a talk with
about a dozen students, who were also interested in deep ecology. I got a great department
patch from their advisor. I also got another great surprise: Michael H.'s father-in-law,
Catherine's father, came in after I finished. I think he was as surprised as I. He had
told me specifically that he did not work at MGU, but at the Geography Institute. He was
in fact the chair of the economic geography of capitalist countries.
Afterwards, Denis and I went to his place for a good dinner. I checked my email after
returning to Igor's.
>Date: 07-Dec-90 14:10 CST
>From: >INTERNET:labrea.stanford.edu!cdp!mendicott
>Subj: getting the message
>Sender: labrea.stanford.edu!cdp!mendicott
>Received: from labrea.stanford.EDU by saqqara.cis.ohio-state.edu
> (5.61-kk/5.901120) id AA23880; Thu, 6 Dec 90 14:30:03 - 0500
>Received: by labrea.stanford.edu; Thu, 6 Dec 90 09:05:35 PST
>Date: Thu, 6 Dec 90 09:05:35 PST
>From: labrea.stanford.edu!cdp!mendicott
>Message-Id: <9012061705.AA04156@labrea.stanford.edu>
>To: labrea!72330.72@compuserve.com
>Subject: Re: getting the message
>Cc: 72330.72@compuserve.com
>
>Dad, sorry to hear about Nanny! Please give her my love. I
>thought I explained in the message where I've been. Where have you been?
>
>I go to Leningrad on Monday, probably until Russian New Year circa
>7 January. Book me a flight on 12, or 11, or 10 january in that order.
>I've got money in bank and can transfer it if necessary but is a pain in
>the ass. Calling is also not so easy. BUT I WILL TRY TO CALL. I went
>today to the big Intourist hotel to use the commercial (yes, private!)
>international pay phones, but they haven't had the prepay cards for three
>weeks! You can direct dial me at 7095 353-5595 around 11pm Moscow time
>any night until Monday. No stress! Love, Marcus.
>From labrea!72330.72@compuserve.com Fri Dec 7 06:29 PST 1990
>>From 72330.72@compuserve.com Fri Dec 7 05:57:52 1990 remote from labrea
>Date: 07 Dec 90 08:43:16 EST
>From: "M.L. Endicott [72330,72]" cdp!72330.72@CompuServe.COM
>To: cdp!mendicott@labrea.stanford.edu
>Subject: still no echo
>
>Dear Marcus,
> I keep trying to reply to your messages, but I do not seem to be
>getting through. I have contacted the CompuServe people about it and they
>claim to be trying to figure out what is the problem. Give me a ring when
>you get some time. Love, Dad
>Date: 08-Dec-90 06:44 CST
>From: >INTERNET:labrea.stanford.edu!cdp!mendicott
>Subj: Re: still no echo
>
>Sender: labrea.stanford.edu!cdp!mendicott
>Received: from labrea.stanford.EDU by saqqara.cis.ohio-state.edu
> (5.61-kk/5.901120) id AA09131; Sat, 8 Dec 90 05:27:28 - 0500
>Received: by labrea.stanford.edu; Fri, 7 Dec 90 13:13:48 PST
>Date: Fri, 7 Dec 90 13:13:48 PST
>From: labrea.stanford.edu!cdp!mendicott
>Message-Id: <9012072113.AA09184@labrea.stanford.edu>
>To: labrea!72330.72@compuserve.com
>Subject: Re: still no echo
>Cc: 72330.72@compuserve.com
>
>I'm getting your messages now. I will try to call, when I get a
>chance.
>Love, Marcus.
 Saturday,
December 8, 1990
I went by bus and metro to the Intourist hotel. I had a Pepsi and sandwich at the
outside snack bar. Then I went to the "rubber club" for the Ecopolis of Peace
Association conference. I couldn't understand much, but made some great contacts with
long-haired people doing new age camps in Crimea and near Rostov-on-Don. I gave out
Rainbow flyers. I had too much Pepsi and not enough food for lunch. Svetlana and Lusha
came later and helped me understand the workshops after the main session. I gave my solar
panels to Vladimir St. On the way back, I had a pizza at a flashy new place near the metro
station.
Sunday, December 9, 1990
I had an amiable breakfast of oatmeal and tea with Alla and Igor, before meeting
Vladimir at the metro station. I killed some time beforehand by strolling around past the
Australian bakery and the Iraqi embassy. I bought a few pieces of cake to snack on.
 Vladimir and I went to the Cosmos club
to meet Koltunov. I got shanghaied into listening to an Indian opera in Russian with
Vladimir translating - pissing off others around us trying to meditate on it. We also
listened to the lecture of a Russian lama. Then we listened to Koltunov lecture, which was
actually interesting. Finally, after five hours, I got to speak with him. He was very
interested in Rainbow. He showed me photos of himself with Dolphins. The rubber club was
closed by the time I got there. So, I went to McDonalds and pigged out.
>From labrea!72330.72@compuserve.com Sat Dec 8 06:51 PST 1990
>>From 72330.72@compuserve.com Sat Dec 8 05:26:36 1990 remote from labrea
>Date: 08 Dec 90 08:13:09 EST
>From: "M.L. Endicott [72330,72]" labrea!72330.72@CompuServe.COM
>To: cdp!mendicott@labrea.stanford.edu
>Subject: Re: getting the message
>
>Dear Marcus,
> I think there is some problem with communicating through all these
>networks: some messages may not get there, other messages appear to have
>some kind of delay before arriving. Anyway, I have been here trying to
>figure out how to communicate and complaining to CompuServe when it
>doesn't work. Anyway, will try to direct dial you later on today -- 11:00
>PM your time.
> Can only get you the cheep tickets to fly on Monday through Thursday, so
>that means either the 7th, 8th, 9th, or 10th of January -- will talk with
>you about it.
> Glad to hear that things are going well with you. Things continue
>pretty much the same here, though Nanny is getting right depressed -- she
>is still in the hospital and now they are not saying when she might get
>out. I still plan to fly out of here Dec. 20 and back Jan. 3.
> Love, Dad
Monday, December 10, 1990
I had a cold Big Mac for breakfast. I went the Intourist hotel and tried unsuccessfully
to phone home. So, I drank Pepsi and ate a sandwich out front. Then I went to the U.S.
Embassy, but this time I couldn't get in without leaving my daypack on the sidewalk out
front; so, I left. I ate some ice cream and took a bus to the "Mehz" hotel and
congress center. I tried to buy phone cards there without luck. I went to the hard
currency super market there. I bought chocolate bars, raisins, and dried apricots for $10.
I went back to Igor N.'s by metro. We had tea and a snack together, before he
accompanied me to the local train. I met Igor R. in the Leningradski station. I had told
him to meet me there by the head of Lenin. Frustratedly, he asked "which head of
Lenin?" I told him, "the biggest one!" He said, "oh, you mean the
'skin stone,'" and "Lenin was a great hippie, even if he was a skin head."
We went to Viktoria's for dinner, and connected with the Teleport. We made the late train,
even though there was some doubt, and slept all the way to Leningrad.
>Date: 11-Dec-90 10:07 CST
>From: >INTERNET:labrea.stanford.edu!cdp!mendicott
>Subj: Re: getting the message
>
>Sender: labrea.stanford.edu!cdp!mendicott
>Received: from labrea.stanford.EDU by saqqara.cis.ohio-state.edu
> (5.61-kk/5.901120) id AA02048; Mon, 10 Dec 90 11:32:34 - 0500
>Received: by labrea.stanford.edu; Sun, 9 Dec 90 12:10:27 PST
>Date: Sun, 9 Dec 90 12:10:27 PST
>From: labrea.stanford.edu!cdp!mendicott
>Message-Id: <9012092010.AA09673@labrea.stanford.edu>
>To: labrea!72330.72@compuserve.com
>Subject: Re: getting the message
>
>Got this message yesterday. Waited for your call. Sometimes it takes ten
>or twenty minutes of constant redailing to get through to Moscow. You can
>call the operator to confirm the direct dailing sequence. I go to
>Leningrad tomorrow, Monday, night on the train with a friend. I'll work
>on calling you from there.
>
>DO book me a flight on january 10 (thursday), but not earlier than the
>9th.
>
>We have to live with the network problems for now. It is possible
>for you to log directly on to EcoNet - you have all the info - somewhere.
>
>Can you call Kathy Dudek again and find out if there's any news?
>
>Thanks, love Marcus.
Tuesday, December 11, 1990
We arrived at dawn, and found a great stand-up place for breakfast of doughnuts and egg
sandwiches. After calling, we went to Natasha's, and met some of her many friends. Later,
one of them took us on a long walking tour of major sites: the ship "Aurora,"
the Hermitage museum, and the palace
square. The three of us got a good lunch at the famous cafe "Literaturny," for
25 roubles. It was once a bakery, where Pushkin met before his fatal duel. Afterwards, we
went back to Natasha's, and I contacted Antanina, who by great coincidence was now in
Leningrad too.
We went with a couple of friends to buy something to smoke, which we found in a cafe,
popular with young people, not significantly different from Western Europe. Apparently,
hemp grows wild in Soviet Central Asia, and comes to Leningrad daily by train. The cost
was 25 roubles, or $1 on the black market, for about a quarter ounce, not more than ten
grams, folded in a piece of newspaper. It was not the flowers, called "bud,"
commonly used in America; it was the leaves, which we call "shake." It was not
even close to the potency of what is used in America, but was significantly more effective
than our own mid-western wild hemp, called "ditch weed." It is possible that
this was the fabled Cannabis ruderalis. However, the real problem in the Soviet Union is
intravenous addiction to amphetamine, bathtub "speed," made from diverted
medication, the same way it often is here.
Then we went to another friend's apartment for to party. It was there that I first met
Kristina, a uniquely melancholy and negative beauty. She was young and so were her
parents. Her mother, an alcoholic, was an academic authority on the famous writer,
Nabokov.
The three of us went home late, with a hired jeep. It was a wild ride in the snow. Igor
appeared offended when I went to sleep on the floor, rather than in the one small bed with
him. We stayed in the psychedelicly painted room of Natasha's brother, Tolik, who was away
in Germany. We snacked on apricots, before going to sleep late.
Wednesday, December 12, 1990
 Natasha woke us up at 10:00, before she
went to work as a translator, today for some Finnish ecologists. We ate chocolate for
breakfast, before going to meet Antanina at her friend Olga's apartment. We had a great
vegetarian lunch, full of good vibes and love. Afterwards, we went to meet two elderly
sisters, who were also Sai Baba devotees. One of the
sisters lived in Britain with her British husband, and had formed the Cornwall-Leningrad
Link Club. They showed us a video about Babaji, and gave us lots of good snacks. Later, we
went to meet Olga's song and dance group, "Belun" which means "White
Spirit," practice resurrected traditional dances of universal peace. When
they were finished, we had a long talk about Rainbow.
Igor and I visited another of his friends for dinner. Late in the evening we got the
cook's tour of Leningrad's number two squat. We crashed back at Natasha's about 02:00. I
slept well and had good dreams.
Thursday, December 13, 1990
We had chocolate for breakfast, before going out with Natasha to buy juice. I made some
phone calls. Natasha, Igor and I, went to a nice restaurant for lunch, which cost 45
roubles for the three of us. Igor and I went by the US consulate to make him an official
private invitation, but it was closed. We then went to visit hippie Joe, where we smoked
and drank juice. Afterwards, we went to visit Maxim, who was a yuppie, but had some nice
quartz crystals. The three of us went to find a restaurant, which proved to be difficult.
We finally got into a cooperative bar, where we paid about 30 roubles for fish and salami.
Then Igor and I went to visit some young artists who lived in a loft. I smoked with them,
as Igor didn't approve of smoking. We were late coming back to Natasha's, and drank some
more juice before going to sleep.
Friday, December 14, 1990
We had chocolate, juice, and mandarins for breakfast. I washed in the tub, using a
small bucket to rinse off with. Igor and I went by metro and bus to the Prebaltiskaya
luxury hotel to change money and try to get a phone call out to America. We had a big
hassle at the entrance, because we were hesitant and spoke in Russian. They forced Igor to
wait outside. I changed a $50 traveler's check, and tried to phone without success. I
bought six chocolate bars at the nearby Beriozka shop for $6. We also bought bread and
cookies in the street. We found a good second quality restaurant, where we had soup,
salad, and "slimy" chicken, with "Quass" to drink, and ice cream for
desert. 
We then went to visit Sergei Silver Spider, of the Russian indianists. He knows Dennis Banks of the American Indian Movement (AIM). We
spoke long of Rainbow. We smoked the peace pipe. We had tea and cakes. He showed us slides
of their Pow Wows. He told us of his village life, of bee keeping, furniture making, and
of the animals in their forest.
We went back to Natasha's by metro, drank juice, ate sweet bread, and smoked, before
crashing.
Saturday, December 15, 1990
We had chocolate and juice for breakfast, and sausage soup for lunch. We missed the
train to Pushkin palace, and it took us a long time to get a taxi, which cost 15 roubles.
We arrived late, and missed our connection, but toured the restored palace museum anyway.
Afterwards, we went to meet yet another of Igor's girlfriends at her place for dinner.
Before we left, her boyfriend came back high on amphetamine. She got mad, and we all went
to over to her neighbors, John and Olya, also Igor's friends. John was a herbalist and
practicing Buddhist.
We drank tea with herbs, ate cake, and talked about Rainbow. Then we went to visit
still another neighbor, a real hippie blues musician, for more tea, cake, smoking, and
talking about Rainbow. The musician's wife was a gypsy. They had contacts with the Landjuweel community in Holland. We went back
to John and Olya's to sleep on the floor.
Sunday, December 16, 1990
We woke up at noon, and had tea and cake. Later, we went to a restaurant for a nice
long lunch of fish, beef, cabbage salad, and complimentary juice. We had a big discussion
on the ethics of changing money on the black market, for buying a Soviet four-wheel drive
car to tour Siberia with. Afterwards, we went back to John and Olya's for more tea and
cake. Before leaving, John gave me some "Rhododendron adamson," which I
to Natasha.
Igor and I took the train back to Leningrad to meet Olga and Vladik. They took us to
Marina's apartment, where she talked much of their lama,
Ole Nydahl. After that, we
all went to the Buddhist
sangha at Oleg's apartment, where he lead the meditation. It turned out, Oleg was a
friend of Soviet-American activist Bill P. of New York City. I spent a long time talking
with a Central Asian woman on our way back into the city.
Igor and I stopped by his artist friend's loft to view parallel cinema, but they
weren't home. We returned to smoke and eat dried fruit with Natasha.
Monday, December 17, 1990
We ate chocolate for breakfast again. We hung around with Natasha, until going to the
U.S. Consulate for Igor's invitation. He kept cutting-up the whole time we were there,
just to needle me. The invitation cost only about 7 roubles.
We went to a beer pub for lunch, and watched music videos throughout the meal.
Afterwards, we went to buy cakes and flowers for Kristina, before going to her apartment.
She had a fever, and I saw evidence of subcutaneous amphetamine use. We talked some, and
then the three of us went over to Natasha's to smoke. After some time, Igor, the only one
who didn't smoke, walked Kristina home.
Tuesday, December 18, 1990
We ate chocolate for breakfast. Natasha asked us to go shopping with Max, a racketeer,
for "products" for her birthday party. We toured restaurants, wine shops, and
vodka places guarded by police. We bought cakes and mandarins. Igor and Max drank cognac.
The three of us met Kristina for lunch. She rushed off to her English exam by cab, without
eating much, and said she hadn't eaten much for a week. We did more shopping, then went
back to Natasha's, where she was preparing for her party.
 Kristina was the first to arrive, and
came over while Max and Igor were still out trying to find something to smoke. It was a
mildly entertaining party with vodka and smoking. I enjoyed talking with Boris, a Jewish
hippie waiting to emigrate to America as a refugee. Kristina was not happy with the
drinking, and Igor took her home. Igor and I later went home with a woman named Ina, a
medical student. We took a train out of the city into the countryside to her two room
apartment. We slept on the bedroom floor, between her and her stern female roommate's
beds. We traded the stories of our loves before sleeping.
Wednesday, December 19, 1990
Of course, I had a wet dream during the night, which made me feel a bit awkward in the
morning. We had tea and chocolate for breakfast, and watched an old film about partisans
on a black and white television, before taking the train back into the city. The three of
us got kicked off the train, because we didn't have tickets. The conductors refused to
believe we were foreigners!
Igor and I went back to Natasha's for a snack and to get cleaned up. Max was drunk.
Igor and I took him to watch "parallel" cinema, very black film clips. Igor and
I went to meet Kristina for dinner at the cafe Literaturnya, which cost 54 roubles for the
three of us. We giggled all evening. Afterwards, we went to her place for tea and to
smoke. She played a new Peter Gabriel cassette, which evoked the essence of Leningrad. I
gave her my Grateful Dead tape. Igor tried to catch the late train to Moscow, but missed
it and came back.
Thursday, December 20, 1990
We had chocolate for breakfast, and tea and cookies for lunch. Igor hailed a private
car, and we went to change a $50 traveler's check at the bank in the hotel Prebatiskaya. I
got in a big argument there with the woman teller over validating my customs declaration.
She ended up wildly stamping all over my form in a frenzy.
Igor and I rode in silence to meet John to arrange an apartment for me. He met us with
some tea cups to loan me. We went to meet the owner of the apartment, and to get the keys.
We took the metro and tram way out of town to a new building in a new section. The
building had 15 floors and mine was on the top. The elevator was not working, because one
of the apartments, directly below mine, appeared to have been exploded by a bomb some time
earlier, perhaps months. I checked the door and window locks, hot water, and phone. We
drank some homemade cognac and tea. We talked long about socialism and the ethics of black
or free market transactions.
 Afterwards, we went back into the city
by bus and metro to get Igor's ticket to Moscow at the train station. As usual, he scammed
it in some way, and so we didn't have to wait long in the big line. We said goodbye to
John, and he departed for the "banyo," a special Russian sauna. Igor and I went
back to the cafe Literaturnyi for a good meal. We got crammed at a table with a Russian
couple, in a half empty place. Afterwards, we returned to Natasha's place, and had trouble
getting in. We said goodbye again. Natasha came back way late, and after knocking, poked
her head in before going to sleep.
Friday, December 21, 1990
Natasha woke me up about noon, asking me if I was going to sleep all day. We had tea,
yogurt, and cookies for brunch. As usual, Max and the others dropped by. Max volunteered
to help me get my beard trimmed, and buy a blank notebook, as my second journal was almost
full.
We went to several barbers, but they all refused to trim my beard. We bought some
flimsy graphed notebooks. We had a good lunch, of juice, salad, mushrooms, and chicken,
for 35 roubles for two including vodka and tip. We went to a few more barber shops... and
finally found one that would do me, around the corner from the American consulate.
Afterwards, we went back to Natasha's, which wasn't far, for tea with lemon. We had bought
the lemons for her at the big central market, which was full of expensive food. We sat
around smoking until late.
Saturday, December 22, 1990
I got up early to go to the milk shop with Natasha, but she slept until late. I made
some phone calls. Max showed up, and after tea and buttered bread, the three of us went to
visit museums. We first went to the Museum of Religion and Atheism in Kazansky Cathedral,
and then to the Museum of Ethnography of Peoples of the USSR. Afterwards, we had dinner in
the restaurant at the actor's union, or House of Theater, for 30 roubles for three.
 Back at Natasha's, I called Kristina,
before going to see her. I bought three big white flowers, for 9 roubles. Then I went to
the wrong apartment, the one next door, and had to go call again. She was rolling up some
grass when I arrived. A friend of her's showed up, a beautiful actress called
"Spyrogira," whose parents were both academic orientalists. We drank tea and she
smoked a lot, before going out to the nearby park. These girls had grown up around this
park, and used to walk their dogs here. We surfed on the ice awhile, before going to
clamber on dangerous rooftops.
Sunday, December 23, 1990
Natasha woke me up for breakfast, of tea and buttered bread. Then, we went by metro and
tram supposedly to speak to an English class, but ended up getting Shanghaied into lunch
at the beautiful apartment of a relatively wealthy family headed for America. They have
had their own business, designing and manufacturing women's clothing, for ten years!
Afterwards, Natasha and I went back to her place. I played with her son, Boris, mended
the pockets of my black trousers which had already worn through, and washed the rest of my
clothes in her Soviet washing machine. I listened to the BBC, and received two surprise
phone calls. One was from John, who was checking up on me because I wasn't using the
apartment he had gotten for me, and the other was from Nik of the Ecopolis of Peace
Association in Old Ladoga. Natasha and I smoked until late. I went to bed after big Boris
came over.
Monday, December 24, 1990
  I awoke this
Xmas eve to the sound of the washing machine. Natasha hadn't woke me. We had tea together,
before going together to the hotel Leningrad to change a $50 traveler's check. We had a
great lunch at the "Express Table" buffet, for 6 roubles each. Afterwards, we
went to the Ethnography Museum of Peoples of the World, to see indians. I found a mushroom
stone there from Columbia, but the attendants said it was a depiction of a stone worker.
Natasha took me to see the former apartment of her idol, Leningrad rock music star
Boris Grebenschikov. We both read with interest
the stairwell covered in graffiti, and even sat for a silent moment of meditation in his
old room. After that, we bought a cake, and I called Kristina, but she wasn't home. We
visited the same squat I had been to before with Max, under the pretense of a musical jam
session, which turned out wasn't happening until the next day somewhere else. He bought
vodka on the street, and we went to visit his girlfriend, Larissa, for a late dinner and
long talk.
Tuesday, December 25, 1990 **
XMAS **
As usual here, I woke up about noon. I listened to the BBC, wrote in my journal, and
ate a glucose tablet, before having tea and cake with Natasha. She placed a call to the US
for me. We tried to book one for Thursday, but it was already too late in the day for
that. Instead, we got an Xmas miracle. The operator put the call through in about an hour,
at 13:00 Moscow/Leningrad time. As usual, there was no news from Babylon, but it was good
just to hear Dad's and my brother Hamlin's voices.
I went to meet Vladimir S. at his apartment, and
had lunch there. I was sorry that I hadn't come before. A Soviet art expert, who had
just returned from a year in America, came by and cut short our talk of ecology. I went to
meet Nik, and had dinner with him at his and his parent's apartment. His mother is
epileptic, and has trouble getting medicine. I went back to Natasha's, and hung out with
some of her woman friends, smoking and drinking tea until 04:00 in the morning.
Wednesday, December 26, 1990
I listened to the BBC, wrote in my journal, and ate some glucose tablets, before making
some phone calls. Vladimir S. wanted to get me on both the radio and TV. Kristina was
busy. Natasha finally got up after 14:00. She had stayed all night with her girlfriend. We
had tea and raisins. Max came by with four bottles of champagne, a day late and a bottle
short. We hung around until evening, then Natasha and I went to the hotel Leningrad
"Express Table" for dinner, which cost 10 roubles for both of us. Afterwards, we
took a taxi back to her place, and drank champagne. We went to Larissa's to smoke, and
then to some of her friends, after her neighbor complained about our noise by banging on
the wall. Natasha and I returned to her place about 02:00, and went straight to our beds.
Thursday, December 27, 1990
I listened to the BBC, wrote in my journal, and had some glucose. Later, I had tea with
Natasha and some of her friends. We rode with one of them, in a newly decommissioned Army
truck, to the hotel Moscow to try the buffet there for lunch. We arrived at 15:00, and by
then the food had been demolished! There were only scraps left over, but we managed to
fill our stomachs with them.
Later, we went to meet Piotr K. of Delta, at a business development meeting. Though she
had graciously volunteered to translate for me, Natasha became uncharacteristically
impatient, which unfortunately caused them to get frustrated too. We left prematurely, in
order to get to the Buddhist sangha at Oleg's in time for the puga in celebration of the
bodhisatvas birthday. We stopped by Natasha's on the way there to pick up some champagne
for the party afterwards. Cosmically, her bother, Tolik, just returned from the West, so
we went back to her place to meet him. We smoked and laughed until late. We went to sleep
at 02:00.
Friday, December 28, 1990
  I listened to
the BBC, wrote in my journal, and ate some glucose, before having tea and toasted cheese
sandwiches with Natasha and Tolik. I went to the House of Nature Protection to meet with
Anton "Tony" L. of Green-Hip, and Vladimir G. and Ivan B. of the Green Party. I
ate some kind of hamburgers with them in their office for dinner. They presented me with a
badge of the Guard of Nature Protection, before they left to bust "New Year"
tree poachers.
I went to meet Tolik and some of his friends for a wine party. They sang lovely Russian
folk songs. I returned to Natasha's, where we smoked and read a single's paper together.
She helped me write a listing. I went to sleep with women on my mind, and woke up with the
same thoughts.
Saturday, December 29, 1990
I hung around all day waiting for a phone call about an interview, from Genady at the
television station. He never called. I tried to reach him without success. Natasha and I
went to the hotel Leningrad for a great buffet dinner, at 10 roubles for two.
Tolik invited me to go to a birthday party with Masha and her elder sister. The party
was full of what he called "working class" girls. They looked like plastic
American girls to me. The great looking sister of the birthday girl spilled food on me all
night. I finally got enough after she spilled fish oil on my pants. But, she could really
dance! After the birthday girl's boyfriend passed out, she got the hots for me. I escaped
with the others by taxi, and we went back to Tolik's to smoke. He ended the night by
getting into a fist fight with one of his neighbors over the noise.
Sunday, December 30, 1990
Tolik and I went to a cafeteria for lunch. The teenage girls there were thrilled with
us; but, they did not believe I was a foreigner, which was becoming increasingly common
for me. We went to the central telecommunications building for Tolik to send a telegram.
Afterwards, Natasha and I sat around her place, doing some more work on the letters for
my listings in two singles newspapers. Some friends came over later to drink vodka.
Natasha and I went out late to get something to smoke from freaks hanging around a metro
station on Nefsky Prospekt.
We went to Masha's to smoke. She had lovely drums and a conch shell to blow. Tolik,
Natasha and I returned to their place. I slept on the floor in her room, and Tolik and a
male friend slept in the bed. She slept in his room. In the night, we heard the terrifying
noise of someone trying to break-in. We were all completely convinced that we were going
to be killed! I was so nervous that I became nauseated. Then when the police, called
"Militia," came, we thought were going to be arrested and go to prison. We
scurried around, desperately trying to hide the grass in the sparsely furnished room. But,
the furor subsided and we went back to sleep.
Monday, December 31, 1990
I woke up on the floor in Natasha's room. Tolik was in bed. We had tea and a type of
"Stolen" cake. We laughed hard about the night before. An elderly neighbor had
locked himself in his room.
Nik called to tell me when and where we should meet to begin our trip to Old Ladoga. We
met in a metro station, traveled two hours on one bus, before changing to local one. I was
told that Old Ladoga was the first ancient capital of Russia. It is now a village with
seven abandoned monasteries along a bend of the river Volchov.
  Marina, Vladik,
and even the girlfriend of Yuri P.'s friend Sergei T., who I hadn't seen since Moscow,
were at the Old Ladoga Ecopolis of Peace. It was basically an ongoing occupation of the
second floor of a large old building, which housed a museum on the ground floor. There was
also a group of teenage artists from Moscow. We all had a big dinner at midnight,
with champagne and vodka. There was dancing, and we watched Vladik's slides of his trip to
India, another trip to the Altai mountains, and his an Olga's visit to England for a
festival of dances of universal peace.
It was really interesting for me to get a glimpse of the third world tourist perspective
of through second world eyes, both their view of the alternative travel scene in India and
of communism there. I smoked with Yuri's friend, and went to sleep on a cold floor in an
empty room at 04:00.
Tuesday, January 1, 1991
 I woke up on a cold floor in an empty
room. I listened to the BBC, wrote in my journal, and ate some glucose tablets. In the
kitchen with the others, I had tea, bread and jam. Nik and I walked through the snow to
the bus stop with Vladik, Tatyana and her attractive mother, to see them off. Nik then
took me sightseeing on foot through the abandoned monasteries. We returned and hung around
the kitchen the rest of the day, snacking and joking. I smoked again with Yuri's friend in
the evening. We talked much of Carlos Castaneda's books. I slept on the floor, but in a
bit warmer room than the night before.
Wednesday, January 2, 1991
I was woken up late. Nik, I, and three other Rainbow people, went by bus to the town of
Volchov for a good lunch. Afterwards, we all went by electric train back to Petersburg.
They used the original name of Leningrad.
I went to Natasha's, where I met her other brother. She was obviously not in a good
mood, with a terrible hangover from New Year. In the evening, Tolik went elsewhere.
Natasha left little Boris asleep with the neighbors, and we went over to one of her
friend's apartments to smoke. We stayed until late, watching Indiana Jones on TV! We took
a taxi back.
Thursday, January 3, 1991
 I woke up as usual at Natasha's. Tolik
and I went to the post office to pay for my singles ads. We then met John at the metro,
and the three of us went with Natasha and little Boris to eat at the hotel Leningrad
buffet. Afterwards, we went to visit a Buddhist temple, in fact the former Tibetan
consulate.
I tried to connect with Genady all day about the television interview; but, as Natasha
said, "he fucked us over." On the way back to Natasha's, we stopped by to visit
the performance art group "Svoie," located in a former squat. Tolik was very
tired and bored. I played with Boris until time to leave for my train back to Moscow.
Tolik went to the station with me. I traded my seat with a man in the next compartment;
so, he could travel together with his wife. In the new compartment, there was a young boy
who could speak English relatively well.
Friday, January 4, 1991
I was woken up too early, at 09:00, by a woman in the train. But, she fed me lunch; so,
I forgave her. I arrived in Moscow in the afternoon, and took the metro and bus to Igor
R.'s apartment, where I found him and Kristina (from Leningrad) quite drunk on cognac. I
took a shower.
People started arriving for his birthday party late. There were much more men than
women, until some women came very late. Igor ignored his girlfriend, and spent almost the
whole evening locked in the toilet with Kristina. His girlfriend was shockingly gracious
about it, even giving him a homemade birthday cake later. I had trouble sleeping on the
floor, because there was heavy metal music playing all night.
Saturday, January 5, 1991
I was woken up early by the sounds of electronic warfare coming from the kitchen. I
went in there and got some Turkish coffee. I gave Igor and Kristina a hard time. We hung
around all day snacking, resting, and talking.
We connected to the Teleport, using Igor's codes. After I made a terrible dinner of
instant soup, Igor suddenly decided to go back to Petersburg with Kristina. Phil came over
later with salami. We talked many hours about Rainbow, and didn't get to sleep until about
02:00.
>From labrea!72330.72@compuserve.com Tue Dec 11 08:48 PST 1990
>>From 72330.72@compuserve.com Tue Dec 11 07:30:06 1990 remote from labrea
>Date: 09 Dec 90 07:15:34 EST
>From: "M.L. Endicott [72330,72]" labrea!72330.72@CompuServe.COM
>To: cdp!mendicott@labrea.stanford.edu
>Subject: Re: still no echo
>
>Dear Marcus,
> Tried for about an hour to call you around 11:00 PM Moscow time.
>The circuits were all busy -- guess that is the time everybody tries to
>call. I will go to the Travel Agency this afternoon and try to get you a
>ticket to leave Moscow on Pan Am on the 10th -- it is one of these non-
>refundable things, so I had hoped for better co-ordination, but it
>looks like such is not to be. I will do what I can about the bike, but
>when I made enquiries before, they seemed pretty puzzled by the whole
>thing. Let's hope for the best.
> No new news here. Take good care of yourself and try to call.
>Love, Dad
>From labrea!72330.72@compuserve.com Tue Dec 11 12:54 PST 1990
>>From 72330.72@compuserve.com Tue Dec 11 10:23:36 1990 remote from labrea
>Date: 09 Dec 90 14:57:47 EST
>From: "M.L. Endicott [72330,72]" labrea!72330.72@CompuServe.COM
>To: cdp!mendicott@labrea.stanford.edu
>Subject: Re: still no echo
>
>Dear Marcus,
> It has been major hassle but think ticket is now OK. You can pick up
>from Pan Am anytime. You leave Moscow 8:35 AM on Jan 11 (repeat, eleven)
>on Pan Am flight 1073Y to JFK with stop in Frankfort (I think). Please
>check with Pan Am, get ticket, and confirm to me.
> Cost of ticket was $1240.00 -- you may cancel or make changes, but they
>cost $115.00 penalty. They claim you can take bicycle at no extra charge,
>but must have handlebars turned sideways and pedals and seat removed, you
>can have one piece handluggage (less than 70 lbs) and one other piece
>checked luggage (less than 70 lbs for it too).
> I look forward to giving you all the details of this particular hassle.
>Love, Dad
>From labrea!72330.72@compuserve.com Fri Dec 14 02:31 PST 1990
>>From 72330.72@compuserve.com Thu Dec 13 22:54:02 1990 remote from labrea
>Date: 13 Dec 90 20:55:19 EST
>From: "M.L. Endicott [72330,72]" labrea!72330.72@CompuServe.COM
>To: cdp!mendicott@labrea.stanford.edu
>Subject: Re: getting the message
>
>Dear Marcus,
> All continues well here, though Nanny is still in the hospital, still in
>a lot of pain, does not know when/if she is going to get out, and is right
>depressed. I plan to fly out on the 20th, and Hamlin and I will drive
>down on the 22d. Lincoln now plans to come up.
> No news otherwise. These messages do take a long time getting through
>-- 3-4 days sometimes -- may look into using Econet this weekend.
> Please confirm that you got your ticket and will be flying out on the
>11th. Take good care of yourself. Love, Dad
>From labrea!72330.72@compuserve.com Sat Dec 15 08:47 PST 1990
>>From 72330.72@compuserve.com Sat Dec 15 07:52:30 1990 remote from labrea
>Date: 15 Dec 90 10:46:35 EST
>From: "M.L. Endicott [72330,72]" labrea!72330.72@CompuServe.COM
>To: cdp!mendicott@labrea.stanford.edu
>Subject: Re: getting the message
>
>Dear Marcus,
> No word from you since your e-mail of Dec. 9 -- hope all is well. No
>news over here. Talked on the phone with Kathy Dudek this morning -- she
>is fine -- says you have a lot of personal mail -- only business problem
>is that people are writing in and asking where their copy of your
>newsletter is.
> Still now firm word on when Nanny will get out of the hospital, though
>they may let her out today (there is really nothing they can do, but she
>can't walk at all now). I am still planning to arrive St. Simons on the
>22d with Hamlin.
> Let me know if you got your ticket OK. Remember that it is for Jan. 11
>and you must reconfirm three days before the flight. Take good care of
>yourself. Love, Dad
>Date: 05-Jan-91 05:51 CST
>From: >INTERNET:labrea.stanford.edu!cdp!mendicott
>Subj: back in Moscow
>
>Sender: labrea.stanford.edu!cdp!mendicott
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> (5.61-kk/5.901120) id AA22214; Sat, 5 Jan 91 06:23:14 - 0500
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>Date: Sat, 5 Jan 91 03:09:23 PST
>From: labrea.stanford.edu!cdp!mendicott
>Message-Id: <9101051109.AA07904@labrea.stanford.edu>
>To: 72330.72@compuserve.com
>Subject: back in Moscow
>
>Came back to Moscow yesterday. Am staying with my friend Igor (a
>different one from before) at telephone 210-6315. Love, Marcus.
Sunday, January 6, 1991
Phil and I were woken up by both alarm and telephone at 08:00, but continued sleeping
until 09:00. He got up and made a good breakfast of salami, bread, tea, and potatoes fried
in butter. He left to work on the ice at Gorki Park. I took a bath, before connecting with
the Teleport for about two hours.
 I took the bus to the metro, and tried
to buy some pastries; but, they sold out just as my place in line came up. I took the
metro to meet a woman from the Rainbow computer club. We went together by electric train
to the village of "Javorenki" to visit the Rainbow house there. We had tea and
dinner after arriving. Later, we played Russian Christmas games, in a circle, with a group
of school children staying there.
Afterwards, Valery H. came. He is a journalist and founder of the Zagorsk Project,
where volunteers taught deaf, blind children to speak English. I had one of the most
interesting discussions with him that I've had with anyone in the Soviet Union. We talked
for hours about my experience with Rainbow and his experience with KTD, three day
marathons. These three day sleepless lock-ins with youth groups are apparently quite
psychedelic, transpersonal and transformational in nature. We also talked about his new
travel business, called Intercollege. I went to sleep at 02:00, again.
Monday, January 7, 1991
I got up before most of the rest in the house. I ate some halvah, caught up my journal,
and went to the outhouse. After the others got up, we drank tea and watched a cowboy movie
on TV. We lunched with the kids in the cold dining hall. Afterwards, we drank more tea.
I left with the others and returned to Moscow with them by electric train, then went
back to Igor's empty apartment by metro alone. On the way there, I bought five loaves of
black bread by accident, for 1 rouble. I had tea and toast, with margarine and honey, for
dinner. I unplugged the phone and went to sleep early, but woke up at midnight and
couldn't get back to sleep. The Teleport was down; so, I did some other work on the
computer.
 Tuesday,
January 8, 1991
Igor and Kristina returned from Petersburg at about 07:00. I reluctantly got up, and we
made coffee. Later we went for a good lunch of chicken, vegetables, mushrooms, ice cream,
and juice, which cost about 30 roubles for the three of us. We bought some dried apricots
and lemons at the free market. Igor and Kristina both felt that free market prices were
extortive and immoral. In real terms, the cost was about half of what it is in America.
 They went back to the apartment, and I
went to the U.S. Embassy for Vika and Kiril's invitations. Afterwards, I walked along the
Arbat Street pedestrian mall on the way to Alphagraphics, where I got 20 more copies of
the Polish Rainbow flyer for 15 US cents each. I bought a souvenir hat on the street from
a cooperative kiosk. I had a hellacious time getting a bus from the metro station to
Igor's apartment at rush hour. The danger of getting crushed or trampled was uncivilized.
I had dinner at the apartment with Igor and Kristina, of soup and potatoes.
>From labrea!72330.72@compuserve.com Sat Jan 5 16:08 PST 1991
>>From 72330.72@compuserve.com Sat Jan 5 10:38:50 1991 remote from labrea
>Date: 05 Jan 91 13:39:07 EST
>From: "M.L. Endicott [72330,72]" labrea!72330.72@CompuServe.COM
>To: cdp!mendicott@labrea.stanford.edu
>Subject: back in Moscow
>
> Dear Marcus,
> Glad to hear that you are OK. I am back in Killeen, and everything is
>the same as ever. Hope you found your ticket waiting for you and that you
>won't have any problems on your return. Take good care of yourself and
>stay in touch. Love, Dad
>Date: 08-Jan-91 18:09 CST
>From: >INTERNET:labrea.stanford.edu!cdp!mendicott
>Subj: Ticket In Hand
>
>Sender: labrea.stanford.edu!cdp!mendicott
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> (5.61-kk/5.910105) id AA02277; Tue, 8 Jan 91 15:31:40 - 0500
>Received: by labrea.stanford.edu; Tue, 8 Jan 91 12:17:12 PST
>Date: Tue, 8 Jan 91 12:17:12 PST
>From: labrea.stanford.edu!cdp!mendicott
>Message-Id: <9101082071.AA26649@labrea.stanford.edu>
>To: 72330.72@compuserve.com
>Subject: Tichet In Hand
>
>Dad, got ticket, no problems.Love, Marcus.
  Wednesday, January 9, 1991
I woke up by the alarm, and made some food. Igor and I went by bus and metro to
Techstilshiki to my bike and the rest of my gear from Igor N. It took us a long time to
get a taxi, or rather a private car, back across town. As soon as returned, we rushed back
across town by taxi to help with a phone call to London about music business, buying
synthesizers from Roland. I did the speaking. The fellow's grandmother gave us a good
lunch. Then we went to visit one of their friends with a computer. We fucked around too
long with PC-Link and the Fax software, but finally connected his machine with the
Teleport. We returned to Igor's place by taxi, and some friends came over to party.
>From labrea!72330.72@compuserve.com Wed Jan 9 06:35 PST 1991
>>From 72330.72@compuserve.com Wed Jan 9 05:24:31 1991 remote from labrea
>Date: 09 Jan 91 08:19:08 EST
>From: "M.L. Endicott [72330,72]" labrea!72330.72@CompuServe.COM
>To: cdp!mendicott@labrea.stanford.edu
>Subject: Ticket In Hand
>
>Dear Marcus,
> Good to hear you got the ticket OK and all is well. Really looking
>forward to having you back. Take good care of yourself and stay in touch.
>Love, Dad
Thursday, January 10, 1991
I went through all of my stuff, packing. I had half a grapefruit, a piece of cake, and
spirulina for breakfast. I connected with the Teleport, and received a frustrating mystery
telex (which I later found out was from Gregor in New York).
Igor and I went shopping for sausage, milk, cream, cottage cheese, and bread. I packed
a box of bicycle things to send to Sasha in Brest, which I sewed in a pillow case, and
mailed in the evening. We went to a Chinese restaurant, at the "rubber club,"
for dinner, where I spent my last roubles. Kristina had a high fever, but the three of us
left Igor's by taxi for the airport, "Sheremetvo 2," at about 02:00.
  We had
difficulty figuring out check-in procedures, but eventually had no problem. We spent some
time trying to borrow a 15mm wrench from taxi drivers, but that size is apparently
"non-standard" in the Soviet Union. Kristina and Igor waited with me until
customs opened. As I inched toward customs, my friends changed from knightly beauties and
savants into huddled Russians.
I passed through three security checks, before boarding the Pan Am flight to Frankfurt.
I found the opulence of the duty free shops in the transit area vulgar. The glass and
advertising was more repulsive for me than it had ever before. I wasn't interested in
participating in fraternal small talk and tall tales of the other waiting Americans.
Friday, January 11, 1991
We lifted off at dawn, leaving the smokestacks of socialism behind. I could see big,
dark patches of forest below, and the crescent moon shining brightly above the clouds. I
was reluctant to be pulled back into American consciousness. I was leaving a lot of
friends behind. There is something there, in the Union. I now feel that I have some karma
with the Soviet Union. The last couple of weeks of my stay in the Union, I had been
counting the days until my return. I expected a lot of things, but not that I would cry.
The breakfast on the airplane made me break out in tears. After living in the streets
for three months, I ate the butter like cheese. I hadn't had such fruit since I could
remember. Why do we have so much, and they so little? Perhaps the Soviets try to keep
people out because of a sense of shame. I cried for their unborn children.
As we landed at Frankfurt Rhine-Main, another aircraft declared an emergency right on
our tail. The place was a zoo. Security was aggressive. There were more than 20 people
lined up to use the temporary toilet. Pan Am was financially ailing and it was annoying. I
realized this was my first visit to united Germany.
The fear of war was in the air, hanging like a black cloud over the assembly of
travelers. The American soldiers in transit were particularly sullen. The only light note
was the name of the aircraft to NYC, "Juan T. Trippe."
I ate two meals after boarding, and slept most of the way. I ate another two meals
before arriving at JFK. My bike was the absolute last piece of baggage delivered. Customs
was less interested than I have ever seen them. I called Gregor and left a message on his
machine. Bear's phone had been disconnected. As usual, Garrick was working full on, but
acquiesced. I took a taxi to the East Village. The fat Haitian driver ranted against
impending war the whole time. I paid $35 for the ride.
I took my stuff in and left my bike in the hall. Garrick insisted I put all my things
in one chair. He talked and we smoked, before going out to the
Living Theater to meet his mother,
Judith. Afterwards, he got hit by a
belligerent and crazed, but nice-looking black man on the way back to his apartment. I
talked with Barry, and with Dawn on the phone.
Saturday, January 12, 1991
I woke up on Garrick's couch, about 07:00. The others were still sleeping. I rested,
listened to news on my radio, wrote in my journal, and got cleaned up. Garrick was woken
up by the phone about 11:00. I made some calls, before we started smoking. Both of us
puttered around, while some others came by. We had a mid-afternoon snack of an omelet with
shitaki mushrooms in olive oil.
I met Gregor in a subway station, and went to his place, where I discovered Pan Am
had bent the frame of my bicycle. I had a shower, and borrowed some clean clothes.
His wife Monica, from Japan, served us a lovely dinner. We drank vodka, wine, apple cider,
and smoked, before I crashed about 11:00 on the futon on the floor of the study.
Sunday, January 13, 1991
I found the spare keys to Garrick's apartment in my pocket, so called him and arranged
to drop them off. After I got there, he asked what I thought of the news... looked
at me and said, "you don't know, do you?" And then he told me....
>ATTACK ON LITHUANIAN TELEVISION TOWER. Early in the morning of
>January 13 Soviet army troops and tanks stormed the Vilnius television
>and radio tower, resulting in 14 fatalities and more than 140
>people injured. Ten of the dead were from Vilnius, 3 were from
>other Lithuanian cities, and one was a soldier from Pskov, said
>to have been killed by automatic weapons fire. All but one of
>the dead, who was crushed by a tank, died of bullet wounds. Graphic
>film of the assault, broadcast throughout the world, clearly
>contradicted Soviet media claims that the army was reacting to
>shots from the television tower. (Saulius Girnius)
Radio Free
Europe/Radio Liberty, No. 9, 14 January
1991
My journal ended here.
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