Conversations In Moscow

New Zealand Listener, Volume 10, Issue 259, 9 June 1944, Page 12

Conversations In Moscow

TRAVELLED to Moscow "hard and fast," as is the official designation of hinged shelves for beds on an express. But somehow they gave me at the New Moscow Hotel a corner bedroom with private bathroom, private lounge alcove and private balcony attached. The first morning I was awakened about three by sunlight pouring in, and looked over my railing down into a bright calm reflection of the Kremlin’s towers on the opposite bank. Nearby flashed the fantastic cupolas of St. Basil’s. And beyond and around-"all bright and glittering in the smokeless air’ — slept Moscow. itself, its lowstoried yellow stucco following the forms of the former log city, and, even without its daytime streams of smocks, somehow as oriental as European. Five hours later, on my way to breakfast, a blue bemedalled mountain stepped across the dining-room doorway. To my polite "open sesame" wave of the hand he opposed a resolute "non passeran" shake of the head. Obviously there was no getting round this commissionaire either literally or metaphorically, so, ‘thoroughly mystified and

somewhat annoyed, I sought enlightenment and the office. "It is your er-er-er dress,’ the girl explained shyly, half looking at my khaki shorts. "Great heavens!" said I. "In the country I come from everyone wears shorts, even around the capital." "But there are ladies here,’ she expostulated gently. "Surely you could wear proper clothes in their consideration." Her English was very good. "Well, if, I must, in order to eat." I hesitated. "But the only long trousers I have belong to my pyjamas-or rather to my wife’s pyjamas." I reined my sudden passion for precise statement. The desk clerk smiled in a relieved but still not completely convinced fashion. "That will be fine, I am sure. But first I must consult." After several *phone calls and a journey to the decorated cerberus, she spoke the verdict. "No, you may go in as you dress, because you have no other, and because we do not oppress nationalities within the Soviet Union. But they ask will you

walk not completely down the diningroom. Will you sit invisible’ (I think she meant inconspicuous) near the door." I was most grateful, * me % NSIDE I watched from the window the boys swimming the Moskva or sunbathing along the stone quays that were road and riverbank both, What to wear was no problem to them-no problem at all. Then I sat down opposite a Stakhanovite Shock Brigader spending his Day of Leisure and his extra earnings on tourist-quality food. He nodded and kept on. Three men, however, at a neighbouring table swung in an extra chair and signed me over. "Sa-ay," drawled the obviously American businessman among them, whom I had seen the night before, "sa-ay, wha-at nat’nal’ty. air you-ou? You-ou spik such exc’’nt English." ‘ I hastened modestly to explain that, although I was born in the Principality where you find Llanfairpwithdwingythgogerychwrndrobyllandisyliogogogo c h, and therefore had indeed learnéd English as a foreign language, yet nevertheless, I had been speaking English for quite a number of years. "You can’t fool me," interrupted the second. He was a Russian, possibly, I calculated quickly, travelled abroad, and now returned as a "foreign expert." The third man, it turned out later, was (continued on next page)

(continued from previous page) Professor of Chemistry in the University of Siam. "Can’t fool me," No. 2. repeated. "You come from Down Under. S.A. I guess, or maybe W.A., or O.R.S. or N.S.W.-anyway, either South Africa or Australia. It’s the different sky or something, but, wherever you like, you all talk one way Down Under." "Very nearly right,’ I admitted. "I come from New Zealand." "New Zealand!" The Siamese professor suddenly sat upright with concern and consternation competing on his features. "But isn’t there some sort of Fascist Government in New Zealand?" * % * HAT was the year? No, I fear I have already handed out too many political tomatoes. However, there was a third conversation-about Moscow, not in it. I’ was telling how, before they gave me my transtasman ticket in Sydney, I had had to sign that I had never, did never, and would never advocate Communism as a form of government. Somebody interrupted — "But did (naming a well-known New Zealand Communist who also had been to Moscow) sign this undertaking?" "Of course not,’ snorted another voice, "he travelled first-class."

A.M.

R.