Training Log Archive: BorisGrIn the 7 days ending Nov 20, 2011:
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Friday Nov 18, 2011 #
Note
I am going to channel PG today and write about things entirely irrelevant for orienteering, but possibly interesting or entertaining anyway.
So, A Tale of Two Nations, by Boris.
In New York. My goals today were to submit applications for a Russian tourist visa and a Swedish residence permit at the nations' respective General Consulates.
Act I: Russia
Opening hours are from 9:30, I show up at 9. There is a line outside, I am about the fifth person applying for a visa. Doors open at 9:45, and an extremely large man with a shaved head, an exaggeratedly unpleasant face, and a pinstriped suit examines us, one by one. The guy in front of me, whom I'd been chatting in line with, is not even allowed to enter. I fare better, and take my place in the waiting room inside. The office is cramped. There are no separate booths, so you can hear everyone's conversations with their respective visa officials. It sounds a bit like a bazaar, with shouting interspersed with begging and the occasional crying. Three people are ahead of me. First one is denied a visa because the Consulate lost his papers. Next one comes up, talks to an official for a while. He then raises his voice, as does the official, who is unhappy about the customer's tone of voice. The formerly mentioned large gentleman in a suit enters and asks the customer to come with him. Customer refuses, and is then taken by the collar of his coat and escorted manually off the premises. His possessions follow, propelled somewhat more rapidly. The last person in front of me actually manages to submit an application.
Now it's my turn. I sit directly in front of the visa window, and see the employee inside. She looks at me, then looks back down to her nails, which she is intently filing. After about fifteen minutes of filing, she announces "next!", and I approach. I submit my documents, and am told, with a big smile, that my application cannot be accepted. My US passport is irrelevant, as the Russian Federation cherishes me and claims me as one of its own. "Because you are a Russian citizen, you have to travel with a Russian passport", she says. "Ok, how do I get a Russian passport?" "First, give us $65 to check if you are eligible for a passport. Then, if you are, you can apply. That takes three months and costs $180." "Ok, what if I just want to renounce my Russian citizenship, can I just sign something?" "Sure." "Ok, I would like to renounce my Russian citizenship." "Very well, please show me your Russian passport." ...
Act II: Sweden, about half an hour later
I arrive about twenty minutes before closing time. We are on the 21st floor of a skyscraper, and there is not a soul waiting inside. The office is clean and spacious, and a lovely Swedish woman asks with a smile how she can help me. I give her my documents and, five minutes later, have a receipt for having submitted my application, and an assurance that they will try to process it by the time I need to go back to Sweden. I am also given complimentary canelbullar and a cup of glogg and told that the Swedish church around the block is having a Christmas fair, which I should go to.
The consulate as a mirror into the soul of the nation?
So, A Tale of Two Nations, by Boris.
In New York. My goals today were to submit applications for a Russian tourist visa and a Swedish residence permit at the nations' respective General Consulates.
Act I: Russia
Opening hours are from 9:30, I show up at 9. There is a line outside, I am about the fifth person applying for a visa. Doors open at 9:45, and an extremely large man with a shaved head, an exaggeratedly unpleasant face, and a pinstriped suit examines us, one by one. The guy in front of me, whom I'd been chatting in line with, is not even allowed to enter. I fare better, and take my place in the waiting room inside. The office is cramped. There are no separate booths, so you can hear everyone's conversations with their respective visa officials. It sounds a bit like a bazaar, with shouting interspersed with begging and the occasional crying. Three people are ahead of me. First one is denied a visa because the Consulate lost his papers. Next one comes up, talks to an official for a while. He then raises his voice, as does the official, who is unhappy about the customer's tone of voice. The formerly mentioned large gentleman in a suit enters and asks the customer to come with him. Customer refuses, and is then taken by the collar of his coat and escorted manually off the premises. His possessions follow, propelled somewhat more rapidly. The last person in front of me actually manages to submit an application.
Now it's my turn. I sit directly in front of the visa window, and see the employee inside. She looks at me, then looks back down to her nails, which she is intently filing. After about fifteen minutes of filing, she announces "next!", and I approach. I submit my documents, and am told, with a big smile, that my application cannot be accepted. My US passport is irrelevant, as the Russian Federation cherishes me and claims me as one of its own. "Because you are a Russian citizen, you have to travel with a Russian passport", she says. "Ok, how do I get a Russian passport?" "First, give us $65 to check if you are eligible for a passport. Then, if you are, you can apply. That takes three months and costs $180." "Ok, what if I just want to renounce my Russian citizenship, can I just sign something?" "Sure." "Ok, I would like to renounce my Russian citizenship." "Very well, please show me your Russian passport." ...
Act II: Sweden, about half an hour later
I arrive about twenty minutes before closing time. We are on the 21st floor of a skyscraper, and there is not a soul waiting inside. The office is clean and spacious, and a lovely Swedish woman asks with a smile how she can help me. I give her my documents and, five minutes later, have a receipt for having submitted my application, and an assurance that they will try to process it by the time I need to go back to Sweden. I am also given complimentary canelbullar and a cup of glogg and told that the Swedish church around the block is having a Christmas fair, which I should go to.
The consulate as a mirror into the soul of the nation?
C • Hmm 16
Wednesday Nov 16, 2011 #
Running 5:00 [2] 0.83 km (6:00 / km)
shoes: VJ Supra Fall 2011
To the start
6 PM
Orienteering 57:24 [3] 8.02 km (7:10 / km) +39m 6:59 / km
shoes: VJ Supra Fall 2011
Wednesday Night-O in Hammarskog, middle course
QR: http://www.dxdeluxe.se/linnekartparmen/show_map.ph...
Results: http://www.oklinne.nu/onsdagsnatt/results.php?id=1...
617/2000
QR: http://www.dxdeluxe.se/linnekartparmen/show_map.ph...
Results: http://www.oklinne.nu/onsdagsnatt/results.php?id=1...
617/2000
Tuesday Nov 15, 2011 #
6 PM
Orienteering 1:51:05 [2] 14.3 km (7:46 / km) +98m 7:31 / km
shoes: VJ Supra Fall 2011
Tisdagsbana A2.
We were a group of eight who skipped the club's half-marathon training in favor of running in the forest. I am really glad we did that! Nice pace, good company, and lots of navigation, as this course was almost entirely in the woods. Wet and very cold in the swamps, and foggy in Hågadalen with a huge moon overhead - a perfect Nåsten night.
We were a group of eight who skipped the club's half-marathon training in favor of running in the forest. I am really glad we did that! Nice pace, good company, and lots of navigation, as this course was almost entirely in the woods. Wet and very cold in the swamps, and foggy in Hågadalen with a huge moon overhead - a perfect Nåsten night.
Monday Nov 14, 2011 #
Running 38:24 [2] 6.63 km (5:48 / km)
shoes: Red Asics 2011
Pre-gympa run with Ross on the lit trail in Stadsskogen. I am excited to go back to the US this week, but I will miss living with Ross and Sam here!!
C • Ha 3
T.rex training 24:00 [1]
Rockgympa. Was doing the exercises more properly the second time around, and was really suffering. I think it's a really good program, and I'll try to keep doing it back in the States. Also, I think I will be in a lot of pain tomorrow.
Innebandy 30:00 [1]
Innebandy. Lots of sweaty fun, as usual. Plus I took a club to the lip from one of the other Americans.