On rock? Rock on.

I finally emailed my application to the Magazine. I spent most of last night (after a few failed attempts at sleeping) editing my clips. What seemed really good two and a half years ago when I wrote it now sounds choked with adjectives and totally overwritten (why "reminiscent of" when I only mean "similar to"? why??) Now I can take a deep breath and wait for a response. Hopefully the clips were decent enough that they'll at least give me a chance.

On Tuesday I went climbing with Strawberry. She's leaving in two weeks, but I'm happy to lavish that fruit on her because I really like her and soon she'll be in California.

She's only been here since January, and for the most part has stayed out of the social fray of the language school. She spends time with Russian friends who she's met here and there, but besides that is fairly independent. She's different than a lot of people I've met here--she's earnest and outdoorsy and strongly evokes memories of high school friends who I haven't seen in years. (The only thing that doesn't fit is her heavyish, but apparently quite droppable, smoking habit.) She volunteers at a refugee center, teaching English to an 8-year-old Armenian girl. Definitely a refreshing counterpoint to most of the teachers, who know English commands top-rouble and are almost cynically willing to capitalize.

We met on Saturday at Baked Beans' and Pineapple's going-away party (though, as it turns out, Baked Beans was the only one who left). We somehow got to talking about climbing, then fell into a pattern of her explaining things to me then realizing she didn't need to ("Belaying's not that tricky...oh you can do it? Well, they don't use ATCs like in the states, but I can show you how to use a gri-gri...oh you've used one?) We were both really surprised to meet someone here who we had that in common with.

She goes to a climbing gym near the Кутузовская metro, just west of the circle line. Like a lot of places worth going in Moscow, it's tucked away among office buildings and you'd never know it was there if someone didn't tip you off. The inside of the gym looks a lot like its counterparts in the States. Sun-tanned, well-toned people balletically making their way up 50 feet of wall studded with multi-colored holds, while a satellite radio mix of American pop plays in the background.

As with Moscow itself, though, after you've spent a while in the climbing gym subtle but fundamental differences start to appear. First of all, the walls are absolutely vertical. None of this 85 degree, fudge factor, coddling nonsense like at Sportrock back home. It's imperceptible until you do 3 climbs and realize your forearms are destroyed (ok, maybe more then 3 for people with muscles). It's good practice, apparently, if you climb in the Crimea because there are a lot of vertical pitches and overhang there.

Another difference is the equipment. Some of the ropes are in scary condition (in reality, they're probably fine for suspending a person, but they're what I was taught to consider scary). They have thin and thick spots that get stuck in the belay device and make for jerky lowerings. Sometimes the sheath detatches from the innards and gets all bunched up at the ends. There'sno belay test, they just trust that you know what you're doing. I think whatever I signed when I paid my 480 roubles releases the gym from any sort of liability. I find that I frequently have a feeling in the back of my head that if something bad happens to me here (fall off climbing wall, fire in the flat, food poisoning, whatever), someone would be responsible. A corporation or the government or something has its finances/reputation/existence staked on its ability to keep people safe and fend off the liability lawyers. I have to catch myself and remind myself that in Russia that's simply not true. In all, I like the trust and freedom of the way things are done here, but it's a mental adjustment for sure.

The upshot (probably the wrong word, for chicken-and-egg reasons) is that Russians seem to rely on their friends and watch out for each other more (according to Aubergine, that's the origin of the Russian mafia myth). Strawberry, comparing her climbing-gym haunts in Boston and here, says the Moscow climbers give each other more advice and are generally more cooperative and aware of each other than the Boston crowd. Silly to draw big conclusions but interesting nonetheless.

Hopefully Stwarberry and I'll go climbing again before she leaves next week. I love how comfortably we relate.