Cure for Jet Lag? 2005

Once again I'm writing about jet lag -- twice today. This first posting is about jet lag going west to east, from U.S. to Russia. The last posting is anticipating the trouble going east to west. Have I found "The Cure for Jet Lag?" On July 5, 2005 I thought perhaps I had.


I have, I think, found the cure for jet lag. It has three elements: travel first class, stay in a five-star hotel, and take 6 mg. Melatonin. On this trip I took the Melatonin, and approximated the other elements. My Frequent Flyer ticket on Delta was for Business Elite class, and for the first four days in Moscow I received loving pampering from Ludmila Rodina.

It was fortunate that Delta's in-flight entertainment was a collection of lousy movies. After a pleasant but not spectacular meal featuring shrimp and pasta, I went to sleep in the wonderfully comfortable, fully reclining chaise seat. Shortly after being awakened for an approximation of Eggs Benedict, we were on the ground, and Slava was there to meet me.

Ludmila welcomed us into her busy household. While we were there she had an Italian client and four young men from Japan. Ludmila's ex-husband Rem had been persuaded to take a vacation trip to his homeland of Armenia, but that still left Ludmila short one bedroom. She gave her room to Slava and me, and she slept on the living room couch.

I can't tell you what happened each day before 2:00 pm or so. I did show up for breakfast but regularly "took a little nap" after that. Slava had appointments and meetings to attend. 'Mila and I did some errands in the afternoon, and one evening we went to a concert of early English music at the Anglican Church.

Ludmila told me that she has attended the Anglican Church from time to time, mostly for concerts, I think. She likes the priest there very much, she told me. He's very friendly (and he also happens to be British). 'Mila reported that she told him, "Although I'm a Christian, I really like your church." She, of course, meant to say that she's Orthodox, but here Christian is taken to mean Orthodox Christian. Catholics are simply Catholic. Protestants are largely thought of as belonging to sects like Hari Krishnas. Ludmila thinks it's okay for a Russian to go to an Anglican Church -- that there's one God, but many ways to worship Him. By the way, this particular Anglican Church has a few small icons scattered around, providing a familiar element to Russian worshippers.

Ludmila fed us with lavish spreads and the finest of foods. There were several kinds of caviar, a selection of expensive imported cheeses, the great Russian delicacy of sturgeon, fresh vegetables from her garden, home-made raspberry preserves, and much, much more. She loves to cook, mostly Russian style, but she brings in ingredients from the Caucuses and her knowledge of French cooking.

One night we took 'Mila out to a restaurant of her choosing. It was in an old mansion, and there was a harpist who entertained while we were eating. The food and the service were superb, and we all left happy.

On our last full day we went out to her dacha. It takes 1- 2 hours to get there by electric train, combined with a metro connection in the city, and walking from the train station to her place. 'Mila's son has hired a gardener from Ukraine for the season ($300 for three months of work). 'Mila has about an acre of land, part of it wooded, part of it in lawn, and the rest in flower gardens, vegetable gardens, and berry bushes and fruit trees.

This early in the season not a lot of the produce was ready for picking, but for our lunch we selected some crispy cucumbers and peppers, delicate lettuce, ripe tomatoes, fresh herbs, and lots of berries. We ate black currents directly off the bushes, and picked tiny wild strawberries. The big surprise for me was the larger cultivated strawberries, very few of which had turned even a pale pink. No matter. The white berries were the most delicious strawberries I've ever tasted, bursting with flavor and aroma. For our main course we had what Russians call "Bush legs," that is, chicken quarters imported from the United States. It was during the presidency of Bush 41 that chicken began to be imported from the U.S., chicken that is much meatier and still cheaper, I think, than Russian chicken.

The flight from Moscow to Ekaterinburg was uneventful, and Slava went in to work rather late this morning. He had food shopping to do, and he wanted to prepare "oo-kha" for dinner tonight. Ookha is a fish soup. He wants to eat mostly Russian style while we're here. Although I know many Russian recipes, I'm happy to let him take over the kitchen whenever he'd like.