Crying in My Soup

Today’s lunch brought me to tears . . . real tears. I was sprung from the inner steel ring and actually went to the city of Sochi. We visited a “Sanitorium” where a real Russian meal was served. The ten course meal was served by the executive chef of the Spa who was a true maestro. But the first 3 courses killed me.

Suddenly the flavors of my early childhood prepared by my Grandmother and various Aunts flooded my mouth. I’ve had plenty of Russian food before but never before had I tasted my past. The courses were weird: Beef tongue, blinis with kasha and wild mushroom soup. I remember in a visceral way eating those things as a child in Brooklyn.  Kasha Varnuskas with blintzes. This was Jewish food in Russia's south. I had to leave the table at one point to wash the tears away. It tasted like a home long forgotten. You can look at still pictures or 8mm movies of your childhood and your brain can recall the time. Somehow, tastes and smells become a true time machine which transports you back on a completely different level.

My loving Aunt Marilyn who is 82 years old joked with me before I left . . . “When you get to Russia see if you can find Grandpa Harry’s family.”

“Sure thing” I said. I’ll find them among the 145 million people in Russia.  Today was a connection to the past that I will never forget. The people I met felt like family. And even though we spoke different languages there was a connection which was palpable. These were not mysterious stone-faced Russians. They were my people. . . . At least the ones that don't hate Jews. Despite my exhilaration over being back in the Motherland, I can never forget why my ancestors left in the first place.

Being here in Russia with my family background; my studies of Tolstoy, Turgenev and Dostoievsky; my college Russian language fixation and my love of Russian history is turning many of these days into cathartic experiences.

Funnily enough my only previous cry before today occurred when I saw the Russian Police Choir sing Daft Punk's "Get Lucky."  I know that sounds ridiculous but my father, who was also a great Russophile, always wondered why we were conditioned to hate Russia. He used to play Russian music at ear splitting volume on his Hi-Fi. He loved the Russian Military Choirs with their medals dangling, their crisp uniforms and their silly hats. The choir music was exotic yet menacing. My dad sometimes would play the Russkie National Anthem over and over. It sort of scared me. These people were not like us. They were going to nuke us some day.

But here, Friday night, I knew for sure that the world has been turned upside down. Those guys singing that song clinched the deal.

I just wished my father was alive to see it. He would never have believed it.

So . . . back to today . . . . .

This was a feast!

 

OK, you might ask, what the hell was I doing at a Spa in Sochi with the Olympics raging around me? Well, it’s an off-day for Figure Skating and it was high time I busted out of the Truman Show. Scott Hamilton was asked by Access Hollywood to do a piece with Billy Bush for tonight’s show. Scott laid the groundwork and then Billy asked me to join them and soon this unexpected adventure began.

It took about 40 minutes via the fancy new freeway to reach the city. The Spa sits atop a hill with sweeping vistas of Sochi and the Black Sea. Immediately upon arrival I sensed that this was going to be something special. The first person we met was Olga Yurevna who would be our guide on this Magical Mystery Tour. Grandmother of 4, she still had her glamorous side. She is one of the sweetest people in the world. The Bear is getting set for Valentines Day.

Remember, this is Access Hollywood and Billy Bush is a very funny man. The idea was Billy and Scott were to spend a Day at a Russian Spa with all of its idiosyncrasies . . . . All of it under the supervision of Dr Alexander Nikolaev. From the outset these people totally got behind the concept. Right out of the gate they knew what the crew was looking for. Through our translator Iulia they asked if Billy and Scott wanted the Spa’s signature massage. Sure . . sounded great . . . until Olga showed us this picture of the masseuse lighting people on fire. In Russian the words say "Fiery Massage."

The boys took a pass on that one! First up was a trip to the "Siberian Health Tub," a two-seat affair. The gents wore bathing suits. Very hot water was augmented with about a gallon of freshly brewed tea. After they soaked two attendants came in and whacked them with Chestnut Leave switches. They would have used the more traditional birch branches but Olga didn't want to hurt our stars.

After the beatings Olga asked if the gents would like to be "gassed." Producer Steve and I went in to a room to check out this procedure. About 9 people were hooked up to IV's with happy grins on their faces. Steve passed.

We passed a gigantic swimming pool, basketball courts, Yoga rooms, massage rooms "De-Tox" rooms and all sorts of mystery rooms in the gigantic 4 story facility. There are all sorts of exercise physiologists, doctors and specialists at work. It was clean and sparkling. But now it was time to meet up with the skin-eating fish. We all heard about this procedure in China but nobody had tried it. Scott was fearless letting them munch on his feet. Billy had to be goaded to dip his hands in the tank. Here is the Before and After . . . .

I was later goaded into sticking my hands in the tank. It felt like a cross between small electric shocks and . . . actually being eaten by animals. 

On to the mud facials. This was before they put them into little Lady Gaga egg incubators and let snails cruise around their faces releasing some kind of collagen liquid.

Billy Bush

Scott Hamilton

Now it was time for lunch and Dr Alex bid us a fond adieu. I know it sounds crazy but I actually had the thought that this Spa could be fun for a few days. Then I went completely insane. Three days at the Spa and then take the Shiny New Train up the mountain to the Marriott and do some hiking in those awesome mountains. Olga will welcome me back as my long lost sister and Cathy can start checking TripAdvisor for flights and hotel rates. WHAAAAAAT . . . can I really be writing that???

Well, enough daydreaming. Tomorrow it's back to the grindstone for the Pairs Short Program. We get another free day on February 15.