The comment section to this entry is pretty polluted by now, so I'll post this here:
If these guys could do what they did to a fellow soldier, imagine what they might've done to a prisoner.
***
Andrei Sychev's condition has deteriorated, and he may not survive (via Gazeta.ru, in Russian).
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
Monday, January 30, 2006
What happened in Katowice is so awful, so sad. Reading about it makes me feel as if Moscow's Transvaal Park collapsed yesterday, not two years ago. Like then, I've now spent a while ignoring the story behind the headline, hoping it'll pass, hoping there won't be anything too newsworthy (read: so many casualties) for them to dwell on.
Two guys knocked on our door a few days ago, during one of the blackouts, and introduced themselves to my mama as the Segodnya newspaper. Turned out they were looking for our elderly neighbor who lives one floor up: he had called the paper and complained about the situation with electricity.
On Friday, Segodnya ran a very emotional piece (in Russian), and our building, due to its central location, was featured prominently in it. There was even a picture of our neighbor standing next to his empty - and immaculate - freezer: we all had to move most of the stuff from our fridges to our balconies. Two other neighbors were mentioned, one an 83-year-old woman who had to spend half an hour in the freezing cold, waiting for someone to help her walk up to the sixth floor: the elevator didn't work.
The reporter and the headline writer obviously couldn't agree on whether we didn't have electricity for the fourth or the fifth day, but otherwise they did well. Both the pensioners and a ZhEK woman were quoted criticising Kyivenergo, and Kyivenergo was given a chance to explain that, according to the rules, they were allowed not to restore power in residential buildings for up to two days.
The happiest about this publicity was Masha, the slightly crazy woman who cleans our building - she was running back and forth that day, waving the paper excitedly, announcing the good news about our neighbor to everyone who walked by: "He's in a newspaper! Look, he's in a newspaper!"
***
That same Friday, another neighbor went to complain to the president's representative responsible for our district.
It's been three days without the blackouts, three wonderful - well-lit and warm - days. (Tfu-tfu-tfu.)
On Friday, Segodnya ran a very emotional piece (in Russian), and our building, due to its central location, was featured prominently in it. There was even a picture of our neighbor standing next to his empty - and immaculate - freezer: we all had to move most of the stuff from our fridges to our balconies. Two other neighbors were mentioned, one an 83-year-old woman who had to spend half an hour in the freezing cold, waiting for someone to help her walk up to the sixth floor: the elevator didn't work.
The reporter and the headline writer obviously couldn't agree on whether we didn't have electricity for the fourth or the fifth day, but otherwise they did well. Both the pensioners and a ZhEK woman were quoted criticising Kyivenergo, and Kyivenergo was given a chance to explain that, according to the rules, they were allowed not to restore power in residential buildings for up to two days.
The happiest about this publicity was Masha, the slightly crazy woman who cleans our building - she was running back and forth that day, waving the paper excitedly, announcing the good news about our neighbor to everyone who walked by: "He's in a newspaper! Look, he's in a newspaper!"
***
That same Friday, another neighbor went to complain to the president's representative responsible for our district.
It's been three days without the blackouts, three wonderful - well-lit and warm - days. (Tfu-tfu-tfu.)
Sunday, January 29, 2006
A horrible thing has happened in Russia. Next to it, Abu Ghraib is like kindergarten.
This:
Marina Litvinovich suggested people should gather by the defense ministry in Moscow on Saturday, and they did - some 300 showed up - and they demanded Ivanov's resignation, and even the cops were sympathetic.
Some photos from the rally are here. One of the posters reads: "Putin, protect not only the diplomats' kids," referring to the time last year when kids of the Russian diplomats were beaten up in Warsaw, which was followed by some really loud rhetoric from Moscow. Another poster demands that the children of the ruling elite - including Putin's daughters - also get drafted.
A good piece by Valery Panyushkin about what happened and how it affects the army's image is here (in Russian, just as some of the previous links).
This:
Soldier Loses Legs in Bullying Ordeal
by Nick Allen in Moscow
telegraph.co.uk
Russia's defence minister yesterday condemned brutal bullying that left an army conscript fighting for his life as "shameful" and ordered a general to investigate.
The life of Andrei Sychev, 18, was "hanging by a thread", doctors said, two weeks after surgeons had to remove his legs, genitals and fingers after beatings by drunken soldiers.
"This shameful fact happened on New Year's Eve," the minister, Sergei Ivanov, said. "Why did it take 25 days for Moscow to be informed?"
Mr Ivanov sent Gen Alexei Maslov to investigate the incident at the Chelyabinsk tank academy in the Urals and sacked its chief.
According to reports, Pte Sychev was forced to crouch for three hours while being kicked and raped. His sister told the media he was tied to a chair, with circulation to his limbs cut off.
The soldier complained of pain in his legs for three days but was not sent to a civilian hospital for treatment until gangrene had already developed. Details of his ordeal came to light when an anonymous caller tipped off local human rights activists.
The most active group fighting the epidemic of bullying in the Russian military, the Soldiers' Mothers' Committee, yesterday called for Mr Ivanov's resignation.
According to official statistics, believed to be much understated, 25 teenagers died in the first half of 2004 as a result of bullying and more than 100 committed suicide.
Marina Litvinovich suggested people should gather by the defense ministry in Moscow on Saturday, and they did - some 300 showed up - and they demanded Ivanov's resignation, and even the cops were sympathetic.
Some photos from the rally are here. One of the posters reads: "Putin, protect not only the diplomats' kids," referring to the time last year when kids of the Russian diplomats were beaten up in Warsaw, which was followed by some really loud rhetoric from Moscow. Another poster demands that the children of the ruling elite - including Putin's daughters - also get drafted.
A good piece by Valery Panyushkin about what happened and how it affects the army's image is here (in Russian, just as some of the previous links).
Saturday, January 28, 2006
This search - 'kryvyi rih sex' by someone from India - must be one of the consequences of last year's sale of Kryvorizhstal to Lakshmi Mittal.
Via Notes From Kiev, a New York Times Travel section piece about Uzhgorod - Onion Domes and Cellphones in Uzhgorod.
Uzhgorod's my favorite Ukrainian town. Lviv and Odesa are also my favorites, but they are in a different category. And there's also Crimea, of course.
The New York Times piece has one drawback: after reading it, I want to find myself in Uzhgorod right away. The headline's kind of silly, too: 'onion domes' are associated with Russia all too easily, which is misleading. And why 'cellphones'? Why not the honest 'long-legged beauties'?
The best part is this menu snippet: "more esoteric dishes like 'herring under fur coat'." I saw this translation of selyodka pod shuboy in a Mykolaiv restaurant in 1999 and it still makes me laugh: instead of a salad, I see this angry-looking fat fish, in this long and heavy mink coat...
Uzhgorod's my favorite Ukrainian town. Lviv and Odesa are also my favorites, but they are in a different category. And there's also Crimea, of course.
The New York Times piece has one drawback: after reading it, I want to find myself in Uzhgorod right away. The headline's kind of silly, too: 'onion domes' are associated with Russia all too easily, which is misleading. And why 'cellphones'? Why not the honest 'long-legged beauties'?
The best part is this menu snippet: "more esoteric dishes like 'herring under fur coat'." I saw this translation of selyodka pod shuboy in a Mykolaiv restaurant in 1999 and it still makes me laugh: instead of a salad, I see this angry-looking fat fish, in this long and heavy mink coat...
So he did catch a cold, after all, as I feared - and had to postpone his trip to Zaporizhzhya. Here's a screenshot of a Jan. 25 Korrespondent.net piece:
From this piece I've also found out that Yushchenko went to swim near the Cossack Church in Otradnoye - the neighborhood where my hospital is located. Mishah and I ran into that church during my last walk as a pregnant woman, the same walk when we ran into the sculpture named Marta...
This is the church:
It doesn't look real, does it? I wonder what it's like inside - but it was closed when we were there, looked deserted in the gloomy weather of Nov. 30. It seemed so cold then - but compared to the day Yushchenko was running around naked, it must've felt like summer then.
Yes, but that park - and Otradnoye in general - is a weird place; I have no idea where they found clean water to swim in there.
There's also a windmill near the church - not sure if it works:
It's been almost two months, but when I'm thinking of that time now, it's like thinking of someone else's story, something I've read about someone else. Have I really been pregnant? Was there time when Marta wasn't around? Weird.
From this piece I've also found out that Yushchenko went to swim near the Cossack Church in Otradnoye - the neighborhood where my hospital is located. Mishah and I ran into that church during my last walk as a pregnant woman, the same walk when we ran into the sculpture named Marta...
This is the church:
It doesn't look real, does it? I wonder what it's like inside - but it was closed when we were there, looked deserted in the gloomy weather of Nov. 30. It seemed so cold then - but compared to the day Yushchenko was running around naked, it must've felt like summer then.
Yes, but that park - and Otradnoye in general - is a weird place; I have no idea where they found clean water to swim in there.
There's also a windmill near the church - not sure if it works:
It's been almost two months, but when I'm thinking of that time now, it's like thinking of someone else's story, something I've read about someone else. Have I really been pregnant? Was there time when Marta wasn't around? Weird.
Friday, January 27, 2006
Here's from today's Independent:
Terrible. Reminded me of what my Armenian friends used to tell me of the early 1990s in Armenia. Hopefully, the current Georgian crisis won't last that long.
Here's from one of the stories I did back in Iowa in 1997:
[...]
Just about everything that could have gone wrong in Georgia has gone wrong. First the main pipeline supplying the country with Russian gas was mysteriously blown up by saboteurs and has yet to be repaired because of the cold weather. And then the fierce cold ruptured power lines leading from one of the country's most important hydroelectric power stations.
Mr Saakashvili was quick to blame foul play by the Russians, accusing them of trying to punish his country for adopting a pro-Western line in recent years. Moscow dismisses this as paranoid nonsense.
Whatever the truth, it was minus 7C in the capital Tbilisi yesterday. Schools were shut and power was restricted to hospitals, bakeries and water pumping stations. Much of the city was plunged into darkness, public transport ground to a halt and 40 per cent of residents were reported to be without heating gas. People were seen cutting down trees for firewood.
Terrible. Reminded me of what my Armenian friends used to tell me of the early 1990s in Armenia. Hopefully, the current Georgian crisis won't last that long.
Here's from one of the stories I did back in Iowa in 1997:
[...]
Miserable conditions of life caused by the blockade of Armenia forced Armenians to feel despair at times. Infant mortality rates increased due to the lack of heating in winter; electricity supply was limited to one and a half hours a day; factories shut and many people were unemployed; schools were closed from November through March.
Grigorian cannot forget the pain he felt when he used to come out with a candle to meer his younger brother at night, and how tense his brother looked after going up the stairs to the sixth floor in the dark, with rats hustling back and forth under his feet.
[...]
Okay, so that was a bit too impulsive, wishing for an Armenian culture minister neighbor. I take it back. Violence's no good.
An hour or so before electricity returned, we called ZhEK, and they said that Kyivenergo people were already in our building, trying to fix the cable that burned down. Mama went out to check whether this was so and found a really tired woman from ZhEK supervising three really tired electricians from Kyivenergo. The electricians worked in the dark, using some tired, dim flashlights; they looked so miserable that mama gave them her own flashlight and spent some time with them. "All night long we are working, all over the city," one of the guys complained to her. "And I didn't find it in me to start a fight with them, you know," mama told me when she came back.
Two days ago, after nine hours without electricity for the second day in a row, I called ZhEK for, like, the twentieth time, and had a moving conversation with a dispatcher. He was working a 24-hour shift (sutki), from 9 am to 9 am, and when I called around 9 pm, he was halfway through his nightmarish workday. Six buildings in the district he was responsible for were out of power, he told me; all relevant city services were aware of the problem, so there was no use complaining to them; Kyivenergo, the monopolist, was to blame for everything - they weren't answering their phones, they weren't sharing their plans and prognoses. He actually apologized to me several times - just think of it, someone from ZhEK was saying he was sorry! And I wished him to survive the night of angry phone calls, told him I knew it wasn't his personal fault that we were having such a prolonged blackout. And he must've been moved, too. "It hurts so much when people are cursing me on the phone," he suddenly confessed. "Especially when women call and begin cursing!"
An hour or so before electricity returned, we called ZhEK, and they said that Kyivenergo people were already in our building, trying to fix the cable that burned down. Mama went out to check whether this was so and found a really tired woman from ZhEK supervising three really tired electricians from Kyivenergo. The electricians worked in the dark, using some tired, dim flashlights; they looked so miserable that mama gave them her own flashlight and spent some time with them. "All night long we are working, all over the city," one of the guys complained to her. "And I didn't find it in me to start a fight with them, you know," mama told me when she came back.
Two days ago, after nine hours without electricity for the second day in a row, I called ZhEK for, like, the twentieth time, and had a moving conversation with a dispatcher. He was working a 24-hour shift (sutki), from 9 am to 9 am, and when I called around 9 pm, he was halfway through his nightmarish workday. Six buildings in the district he was responsible for were out of power, he told me; all relevant city services were aware of the problem, so there was no use complaining to them; Kyivenergo, the monopolist, was to blame for everything - they weren't answering their phones, they weren't sharing their plans and prognoses. He actually apologized to me several times - just think of it, someone from ZhEK was saying he was sorry! And I wished him to survive the night of angry phone calls, told him I knew it wasn't his personal fault that we were having such a prolonged blackout. And he must've been moved, too. "It hurts so much when people are cursing me on the phone," he suddenly confessed. "Especially when women call and begin cursing!"
Thursday, January 26, 2006
I'm back again; this time we didn't have electricity from 10:30 am till 6:15 pm - almost eight hours. And about 45 hours total this week.
Just one more thing for now: how I wished we had a neighbor like the former Armenian culture minister, someone who'd go to our ZhEK and to Kyivenergo and beat the shit out of them all. Maybe someone did, because other neighborhoods are sometimes left without power for much longer - three days in a row, how about that? - and some people in those neighborhoods have electric, not gas, stoves...
The paradox here is that, technically, we own our apartment, we privatized it a while ago - but we still rely on Kyivenergo (it's state-owned, isn't it?) for everything: hot water, central heating, electricity. Why should I really care about who owns Kryvorizhstal when it's ridiculous for me to say that I really own the apartment I do own on paper?
Just one more thing for now: how I wished we had a neighbor like the former Armenian culture minister, someone who'd go to our ZhEK and to Kyivenergo and beat the shit out of them all. Maybe someone did, because other neighborhoods are sometimes left without power for much longer - three days in a row, how about that? - and some people in those neighborhoods have electric, not gas, stoves...
The paradox here is that, technically, we own our apartment, we privatized it a while ago - but we still rely on Kyivenergo (it's state-owned, isn't it?) for everything: hot water, central heating, electricity. Why should I really care about who owns Kryvorizhstal when it's ridiculous for me to say that I really own the apartment I do own on paper?
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
Power was restored at 2:40 am; Marta slept from 9-something till 2 am, my wonderful little girl; the temperature in our room didn't fall beneath +17°C because I kept the door open to let in the warmer air from the rest of the apartment; the most annoying thing about it all was that everything but our building was very well-lit - Khreshchatyk, all the shops across the street, the monstrous construction site on the backyard side, everything. I really, really hate winter.
***
What I stopped short of saying in the previous post was that if Ukraine was indeed stealing Russian gas, it was definitely not stealing enough of it - but, of course, this is totally wrong and I'm glad I didn't say it.
***
What I stopped short of saying in the previous post was that if Ukraine was indeed stealing Russian gas, it was definitely not stealing enough of it - but, of course, this is totally wrong and I'm glad I didn't say it.
Monday, January 23, 2006
Amazing... Here I am, sitting in our huge-windowed room, -18°C (0°F) outside, around +19°C inside (thanks to the heater), and I'm feeding Marta, and suddenly the lights go off, shortly after 8 pm - but my computer screen doesn't blink, so I go online (dial-up isn't affected by electricity shut-offs), and I'm typing this with my right hand, because the left one is holding Marta, and I know that if they don't fix whatever's broken in the next hour and a half, the computer's battery will die and I'll either get a few more hours of sleep (if Marta behaves) or I'll have a hell of an evening (if she's sleepless) - in a very cold room.
I was sort of prepared for this, though: first, there was some blinking a couple hours ago, and later mama came back home and reported that the elevator didn't work and the staircase wasn't lit; then I remembered I had to give Marta a bath (with this weather, I sort of kept forgetting for the past two days), and I made some chamomile tea to pour into water for Marta's skin, and I went to the bathroom to prepare everything, and turned what had to be hot water on, but it was icy and it stayed icy for the next 20 minutes, which wasn't all that strange, though normally the water does get hot after 15 minutes or less (it takes a bathful of water to wash a cup, as someone from our building described this recurring problem to mama), and it got me slightly mad, but I quickly recovered, changed Marta's diaper and sat down to feed her.
And here we are, an hour later: our fancy-schmancy phone doesn't work without electricity; we can't call the maintenance people from a cell phone because we can't locate the piece of paper with their phone number on it; Khreshchatik is well-lit and so are the buildings across the street from us; my feet are really cold now and I'm using Nur, one of the cats, to warm them; we're down to +18°C already; Marta's not asleep yet, but she's yawning, which is a good sign; mama has lit up a candle and is cooking dinner in the kitchen.
***
The last story that I read on Gazeta.ru before the lights went off was about Gazprom: they were saying their European clients weren't getting all their gas because of Ukraine (yes, again).
I was sort of prepared for this, though: first, there was some blinking a couple hours ago, and later mama came back home and reported that the elevator didn't work and the staircase wasn't lit; then I remembered I had to give Marta a bath (with this weather, I sort of kept forgetting for the past two days), and I made some chamomile tea to pour into water for Marta's skin, and I went to the bathroom to prepare everything, and turned what had to be hot water on, but it was icy and it stayed icy for the next 20 minutes, which wasn't all that strange, though normally the water does get hot after 15 minutes or less (it takes a bathful of water to wash a cup, as someone from our building described this recurring problem to mama), and it got me slightly mad, but I quickly recovered, changed Marta's diaper and sat down to feed her.
And here we are, an hour later: our fancy-schmancy phone doesn't work without electricity; we can't call the maintenance people from a cell phone because we can't locate the piece of paper with their phone number on it; Khreshchatik is well-lit and so are the buildings across the street from us; my feet are really cold now and I'm using Nur, one of the cats, to warm them; we're down to +18°C already; Marta's not asleep yet, but she's yawning, which is a good sign; mama has lit up a candle and is cooking dinner in the kitchen.
***
The last story that I read on Gazeta.ru before the lights went off was about Gazprom: they were saying their European clients weren't getting all their gas because of Ukraine (yes, again).
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