Mankind's only alternative 2   OCT.   22  
Mankind's only alternative

The Fall of The eXile For all those wondering what the "Save The eXile Fundrasier" banner is all about, here it is as simply as it can be phrased: The eXile is shutting down.
June 11, 2008 in eXile Blog

War Nerd: War of the Babies in Taki's Magazine The War Nerd talks about babies, the greatest weapon of the 20th century.
May 28, 2008 in eXile Blog

Kids, Meet Your President A website for Russian kids to learn all about President Medvedev's passion for school, sports and family.
May 22, 2008 in eXile Blog

Cellphone Democracy Cam If this girl was exposed to Jeffersonian democracy...
May 20, 2008 in Face Control

More Classy B&W Dyev Photos Yet another hot Russian babe imitating the Catpower look...
May 20, 2008 in Face Control

Proof That Genetic Memory Is Real! Sure, the Ottomans shut down the Istanbul Slavic slave markets centuries ago...
May 15, 2008 in Face Control

Russia's Orthodox Church Youth Outreach Program The priest is going, "Father Sansei is very impressed with grasshopper Sasha’s...
May 15, 2008 in Face Control

More Classy B&W Club Photos w/Russian Dyevs We took the Pepsi Challenge here...
May 15, 2008 in Face Control

Blogs RSS feed

Feature Story September 4, 2003
Serfin' USA: Duped Russkies
By Jake Rudnitsky Browse author Email
Page 5 of 6
In order to avoid paying for food, the J-1s made every day a BK day. They all seemed to be chunking up from their strict fast food diet -- or maybe my memories of Russian girls are too generous -- and all of them had acne ranging from medium to moon-pocked. The guys' eating habits were especially repulsive; they'd smuggle out meat patties and pie slices to stockpile for the days off. When the managers tried to put a stop to the stealing by locking the changing rooms, the Russians developed a system in which they'd hide the food among the dirty uniforms and then retrieve it when they were closing the restaurant. It meant that their meals would often spend hours bundled together with sweaty fetid BK jerseys before making it to their apartment. But, hey, free is free.

I've eaten many disgusting things while researching stories for the eXile -- reindeer guts, cold pirogi with coagulated meat filling, sproti of a Soviet vintage, vobli from the blackened hands of a toothless peasant -- but nothing could have made me touch a two day old microwaved 'fire-grilled' slab of gray matter that had once been intended for a Whopper. The home fridge was filled with mold-covered meats unfettered even of a scrap saran wrap. When reheated these patties didn't smell like anything of this earth. Yet that's what these guys breakfast on every day. As Seryozha told me while preparing a patty, "At least it's khalyava." Even vinegar tastes sweet to Russians when it's free.

Not surprisingly, everybody hated life in Warrington. Seryozha tried to hide his shame by claiming it was a nice change from life in the big city, but he wasn't fooling anyone. They slept on cheap inflatable mattresses that were flat by morning; their only entertainment was courtesy of Max's X-Box; they subsisted on nuked Whopper patties; and they had paid for the pleasure.

The girls' apartment was slightly more comfortable thanks to some furniture a sympathetic neighbor contributed, but it still wasn't pretty. None of them had any illusions that, even there at The Place among America's most pitiful, they were the lowest caste.

It was particularly poignant because most of these kids were coming from a position of relative privilege; not every Russian can scrape together the 2000 bucks necessary. And they were even denied the gratification of spending what little they made on consumer goods because it was mostly tucked under the inflatable mattresses to be used to repay the relatives who had fronted the money.

Few fates, as these hermits will attest, are worse than being stuck in car country without a car. There was a pool at The Place, but otherwise no way to relieve the tedium. The nearby malls were of the dingy bulk-shopping variety and didn't offer much beyond the initial revelation of how much brand selection Americans have when choosing cheap bath towels, Tupperware and other goods for happy homemakers. Philly, which was only a half hour drive away, supposedly took over two hours to get to on a bus and none of them had ever been there.

Warrington was a grim reminder of the uniformity of American suburbs. The only stores and restaurants were prefab chains and walking was so unheard of that on several occasions the cops had actually stopped some of the Russians to find out what they were doing. The town's main feature, other than the shopping installations that lined Route 611, was a naval airbase. This, with its Soviet style decommissioned-planes-on-pedestals-as-monuments, also might have reminded Max of home. All the J-1ers thought it was weird that, in spite of the proximity of the base, they never saw any soldiers at the BK. They didn't understand that many of the young, dim-eyed, plump customers were soldiers, since they were so used to the half-starved conscripts in frayed camouflage.

Even the "nice" mall offering decent window shopping tended to depress them. "At first it was kind of cool checking it all out," said Dasha who, a student in Kiev, was one of the most worldly. "But what's the point if you can't buy any of it?"

SHARE:  Digg  My Web  Facebook  Reddit

Rumble in the Rodina: Ibragimov vs. Holyfield :
School Graduate
Field Guide To Moscow: Skholnitsa Statutoria :

Clubbing Adventures Through Time : The gay, the indie and the romantic


Save The eXile: The War Nerd Calls Mayday
The future of The eXile is in your hands! We're holding a fundraiser to save the paper, and your soul. Tune in to Gary Brecher's urgent request for reinforcements and donate as much as you can. If you don't, we'll be overrun and wiped off the face of the earth, forever.

Scanning Moscow’s Traffic Cops
Automotive Section
We’re happy to introduce a new column in which we publish Moscow’s raw radio communications, courtesy of a Russian amateur radio enthusiast. This issue, eXile readers are given a peek into the secret conversations of Moscow’s traffic police, the notorious "GAIshniki."

Eleven Years of Threats: The eXile's Incredible Journey
Feature Story By The eXile
Good Night, and Bad Luck: In a nation terrorized by its own government, one newspaper dared to fart in its face. Get out your hankies, cuz we’re taking a look back at the impossible crises we overcame.

Your Letters
Russia's freedom-loving free market martyr Mikhail Khodorkovsky answers some of this week's letters, and he's got nothing but praise for President Medvedev.

Clubbing Adventures Through Time
Club Review By Dmitriy Babooshka
eXile club reviewer Babooshka takes a trip through time with the ghost of Moscow clubbing past, present and future, and true to form, gets laid in the process.

The Fortnight Spin
Bardak Calendar By Jared Lindquist
Jared comes out with yet another roundup of upcoming bardak sessions.

Your Letters
Richard Gere tackles this week's letters. Now reformed, he fights for gerbil rights all around the world.

13 Toxic Talents: Hollywood’s Worst Polluters
America By Eileen Jones
Everybody complains about celebrities, but nobody does anything about them. People, it’s time to stop fretting about whether we’re a celebrity-obsessed culture—we are, we have been, we’re going to be—and instead take practical steps to clean up the celebrity-obsessed culture we’ve got...


    MAIN    |    RUSSIA    |    WAR NERD     |    [SIC!]    |    BAR-DAK    |    THE VAULT    |    ABOUT US    |    RSS

© "the eXile". Tel.: +7 (495) 623-3565, fax: +7 (495) 623-5442