Something scary.

Something really scary happened to me last night. I was riding the bus home from work. It was about 9:45pm, although as the sun doesn’t set until around 11:00pm these days, it was still light outside. For some reason the bus was unusually crowded. I found myself squished up against a whole bunch of people, one of whom was a young man roughly my age. He asked me what my name was, which inevitably led to the “Where are you from?” set of questions. I answered him - no harm in that, right? I mean, I often have short, random conversations with people I don’t know while riding public transport. Granted, those conversations are usually along the lines of, “What time is it?” or “Can you tell me where such-and-such stop is?” although just yesterday morning I’d had a long conversation with a babushka about how poorly the bus driver was driving. 

Anyway, the young man asked me where I was going, and I told him “home” and then he suggested that he accompany me. I could tell that he had been drinking, so I told him no, and figured it was best to stop the conversation there. But then he started pressing the issue, insisting that he accompany me and asking why not when I told him “no” (er, нет) unequivocally. I started to get an unpleasant vibe from him, especially when he followed me as I tried to move away from him to another part of the bus. He asked me where my stop was, and I told him it was one further than my actual stop. When we reached my stop, I waited until everyone had exited/entered the bus, then jumped out the door as it was closing. Seriously, the door actually hit me on the ass on my way out. 

I was congratulating myself on my escape and scurrying towards home when I heard footsteps of someone running up behind me. The dude had apparently gotten the bus to stop and let him out. He ran up to me and grabbed my arm and said that he was going to come with me. I told him no and yanked my arm away - at which point the scene was repeated several times, each time growing rougher and scarier. Now, like I said, it was daylight. In public. We were  surrounded by people. But did they respond when I cried out (in Russian), “Please help me! I do not know this man!”? Some looked. Some laughed. Some ignored us all together. No one made any move to help. 

I noticed that there were two traffic cops parked alongside the road. I started moving towards them as quickly as I could, even though the guy was hindering my progress by continuing to grab at me, my clothes, my purse, my body. All the time I was shouting at him to stop and yelling “Please help!” The policemen started laughing. Now, I’ve been told many times that Russian policemen can rarely be turned to reliably in times of crisis, but what the fuck? I’m being assaulted by some strange drunk dude and they think it’s funny? At that point I was able to pull myself free of his grasp and ran for home (which was then less than half a block away). He ran after me, and stopped me two more times, but each time I pulled away and kept running. The door to our apartment building has a coded lock. You have to press a certain combination of buttons in order to unlock the door. I ran inside and slammed the door closed just as he was reaching out to grab it. Whew! 

At first I was very relieved to be inside the locked building... but then I heard him trying different combinations in order to get the door open! I ran up the stairs to my door, and began to worry that Nina M. might not be home. The door to our apartment has four locks. They can be easily opened from the inside, but take forever to unlock from the outside. I was digging in my purse for my keys even before I made it all the way up the stairs. Nina M. was slow in coming to the door, and I was already trying to unlock it by the time she ambled over and did it for me. I nipped inside and shut and locked the door. 

I didn’t want to tell Nina M. as I didn’t want her to worry. Instead I went and sat in my room and shook like a leaf and felt like I wanted to go home to America. This was the first time since coming to Russia in August that I truly wanted to go home. And it was also the first time I felt in danger here. I mean, I’ve been accosted by drunken dudes on the streets here before, but all I had to do was ignore them and walk away. Last night felt a lot like that night in Korea with the crazy masturbator, but at least I wasn’t alone then - M was with me - and at least that dude ran away when we yelled at him. With the guy last night, yelling just seemed to encourage him. 

I’d been in my room, literally hiding under the covers for about five minutes when the doorbell rang. Nina M. went to the door and guess who? Luckily babushki are formidable and this one wasn’t about to let some strange drunk fellow looking for “the girl” into the apartment. She shut and locked the door and came and asked me if anyone had bothered me on the street, so I told her the story. The doorbell rang two more times, and each time she sent him away, the last time she threatened to call the police. (Although would that really do us any good?) He stood in the yard behind the building for about 15 minutes before finally giving up and going away. I was really upset... but the thing was, Nina M. wasn’t. She just laughed and said, “Oh, he just liked you! He was just too drunk to realize that he was bothering you.” WTF? I mean, it’s one thing when you’re in 3rd grade and the teacher tells you that little Jimmy who pulled your hair did so because he likes you... but that was the same tone Nina M used to describe the drunkard who was grabbing and groping me in the street!

Last night I was really freaked out about this. It still bothers me today, although I’m not feeling the need to pack my bags and run for home like I was when I got home yesterday. Plus, it’s such a beautiful day, it’s hard not to feel great. I took some cool bee photos on my way in this morning...