COLUMNISTS

Deidre Dare

I think it's time someone did an expose on these direct American carrier flights from Moscow to the United States, and it might as well be me.

These flights always seem to be completely full. One wonders: who are all these people travelling from Russia to the States? Very few seem to have the air of the relieved-tourist-finally-leaving-Moscow-fed-up-with-being-stopped-constantly-by-policemen-at-Red-Square-and-asked-for-their-papers.

On my last such 12-hour flight, after one of my many stints in the restroom (see below), I decided to do some real investigative journalism on the matter to pass the time.

In business class, where Delta provides flat beds to Washington DC, the passengers appear to fall into one of two categories. Either they are wealthy American men of commerce who have come over to our fair land for the sole purpose of raping and pillaging it, or they are the Russian wives of such men who are travelling back home alone after a trip to the Motherland which their husbands apparently have no interest in ever seeing again.

If they fall into the first category, they are generally middle-aged, fat, ugly and wrecked from their four nights in Moscow. Unused to the combination of vodka and the attention of pretty, lithe girls, they overdo both and spend their return flight either sleeping it off or inventing lies to feed their waiting spouses.

Passengers in the second category spend the flight drinking French champagne and shopping from the duty-free cart.

Economy is a completely different scene.

First of all, what's with all the clapping when we land in the US?

I always feel like I‘m on a plane with a crowd of defectors. I'm pretty sure if Homeland Security knew that all the Russians were practically giving a standing ovation at touchdown, they'd never let any of them in for fear that they'd never leave.

While the Russians are marginally better behaved on American international flights than they are on domestic Aeroflot ones, there's still a lot of loud drunkenness to be dealt with. There is also still the complete misuse, usually by Russian babushkas, of the "under the seat in front of you" area that I find particularly irksome.

But, again, it's nothing compared to internal Russian flights where people (myself included) drunkenly meander onto the plane with open vodka bottles, kilos of potatoes or a few live chickens.

There is one ubiquitous Moscow-US economy class traveller that particularly fascinates me. On every such flight, you'll notice her. She's a nearly-hysterical American blonde in her late-forties, travelling alone with a baby.

There is always some skaboo* involving this baby. Either the woman needs to change her seat to get close to the bulkhead or the baby is screaming, or the baby needs more blankets, or the baby has no food - or the baby's toy has been lost in the airport.

SAFETY WARNING: For your personal security and comfort, do not sit next to this woman!

The baby has just been adopted the day of the flight.

It seems that Russian orphans are being relocated out of here and immediately sent to live in the States with single mothers at a rate of at least one per day.

In addition to inebriated Russians, babushkas with too much luggage and barren women, my last flight back home from Moscow also included the following documented (by me) categories of passengers: loud, crying children under the age of 10 travelling alone (for reasons I was unable to either determine or fathom), off-duty flight attendants, Russian honeymooners, Russian females with US student visas, expats on shore leave and one yummy Russian named Nikolai who lives in the States and who was sitting next to me in the much-coveted Exit Row.

None of the drama and angst amongst the passengers on these direct flights bothers me too much, even though we are all packed together for over half a day. But sitting still for long periods of time makes me antsy, so I spend most of my time in the restroom doing the only thing I can think of to relax and make the journey more pleasant.

That is to say, masturbating.

xxoo, DD

Deidre Dare's novel "Expat" and "Moscow Moments" video reports can be viewed online at: www.deidredare.com

*Skaboo is a word I invented a few years ago. A close synonym would be brouhaha or furore.