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| Nice Dachas 
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| Very worthy |  
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| Pick of the year |  
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| Always in control
 |  | This past weekend, I went to my friend’s dacha. It was nice to get out of Moscow for the weekend. I spent the whole time reading,
 writing letters, sleeping, and goofing off. Going to the dacha always
 makes me reflective, and this time was no exception.
 Ever since I arrived in Russia, over a year ago, I have had apersonal rule about dating the locals. I abstained from the wonderful
 treats that were, literally, thrust upon me by the Russian women. I can’
 remember exactly why I had the rule. I think it had a bit to do with the
 other men here, my outlook on Russia, and my opinion of Russian
 women.
 First, I saw so many expat men with Russian women, I was appalled.Some days it seems like every expat guy here has a Russian wife. Of all
 the single-when-arrived men, I am straining to remember one man who did
 not find a wife, or at least try to, while here. This mass union made me
 a bit skittish for two reasons. First, I hate following the crowd, no
 matter where it’s going or what it’s doing. As the crowd dived into the
 ladies, I looked for a more original approach. Then, as I saw why so
 many Russian women would attempt the cross-cultural union, the security
 (financial and emotional), the liberty (passport and family), and the
 future (her and her offspring), I started to question their true
 motives.
 Second, when I first arrived, I was with 44 Americans, all in a bitof group think. We stuck together, and to a great extent, were quite
 aloof from the country we were to live in. Once my visa was
 questionable, and my tenure in Russia tenuous, I sure didn’t want to
 entangle myself with a Russian girlfriend. Even after I started at PW, I
 was still quite unsure of my future here. I didn’t have a real contract;
 I could be cut off with a three-month’s notice, so I was a bit
 apprehensive. All this uncertainty kept me in the expat circles, where a
 quick departure could be understood.
 Finally, and most revolting now, was my opinion of the ladies here. Isubconsciously though of Russian women as inferior to Western women.
 Yes, I know, I am shocked too! I never realized I though this way until
 I was examining my life this past weekend. See, I though that since so
 many dorky men were landing amazing Russian women, I, as a non-dork,
 should do better. Who did I think was better (or more difficult to date,
 thereby proving my superiority)? Expat women. I was downgrading a
 segment of women, solely because they were not being as discriminatory
 as I would expect a woman to be. Like, who the hell did I think I
 was?
 Ok, so here I sit thinking about all that I have written, and what itmeans. I do know why so many expat men and Russian women marry. The men
 want excitement and the mix of femininity and power a Russian woman has.
 I do admit that the mix excites me too. The Russian women want what an
 expat man can offer, not matter how dorky he is. Maybe they are morally
 above me, judging a man on his soul, not his looks. I also feel much
 better about my future prospects at PW. I am going to be there after the
 merger with Coopers finishes. I will be moving up, slowly but surely,
 and they do pay me enough to keep me interested. On top of all that, I
 cannot continue to think of any class of women as anything less than the
 mysterious, wondrous, amazing, sensuous beings I admire and desire so
 much.
 What did I figure out after all that? I am going to cast aside myprevious rule, and I shall try to enjoy the magnificent women this
 country has to offer, if they will even talk to me after reading this.
 What a difference a weekend at the dacha makes! |