Ha. As an American, I found this ground/first floor distinction a bit confusing when I first moved to Brazil. This was exacerbated by the ground floor here usually being called the 'portaria' (literally something like 'door place' — possibly also meaning a door store or factory), and my mostly-still-English-speaking-brain felt that the 'P' in the elevator should take me to the parking deck.
Oh, Baranov. So incorrigible and yet still likeable. Well done!
I'm with the Brit about the (apparent) lack of bugging. Super fishy. Some theories are chasing each other around in my head, but none seem promising. Mostly, I'm baffled too.
Color names are so crazy, 'Young Pioneer Rose' probably exists but just hasn't caught on yet.
It is confusing indeed, for me, it was in the other sense – "This is the ground floor, not the first!" – so I can picture your bafflement. It happens the same with the Japanese and British driving on the left.
Thanks for your super kind comments, Cary. I'm making it up as I go along, and therefore, I have to find a way to get out of this ever increasing tricky pickle.
That's how I write too. Even when I try to plan something out, things always veer off in their own direction.
Doors are fun for me too here, because of an evil false cognate: 'puxar' (push-AR) does not mean 'push'; it means pull. (Push is empurrar [em-poo-HAR], and semi-related: pular does not mean pull, it means jump.) It's a miracle I can get through doors some days.
The team appear to have made a cautious entry into the city. One step at a time setting them selves up to export ideas. I wonder if a copy of Confessions of an Advertising Man by David Ogilvy was also in the trunk - a seminal work of persuasion.... Good luck to them! T
I love the place you chose for your KGB's band: Dom Knigi, this small piece of Nevsky and Griboedov Canal, so many memories... And their dinner! Delicious! You are excellent in Russian details. The only a little bit strange to me, the soviet officialdom is a strong system of seniority, and your company is too friendly to each other. But you are the novelist and free to follow your wish.
You're right, Larisa, and I do make myself a lot of questions about plausibility, while I write this story. I take a lot of poetic licenses, hoping my more knowledgeable readers will forgive me. Thank you, as ever, for your lovely comments!
Grazie mille, Gianni.☺️ But you write beautifully about the stories of old Tokyo's and new Japan's, which technically require a knack for storytelling and the same inquisitive eye for details.
Ha. As an American, I found this ground/first floor distinction a bit confusing when I first moved to Brazil. This was exacerbated by the ground floor here usually being called the 'portaria' (literally something like 'door place' — possibly also meaning a door store or factory), and my mostly-still-English-speaking-brain felt that the 'P' in the elevator should take me to the parking deck.
Oh, Baranov. So incorrigible and yet still likeable. Well done!
I'm with the Brit about the (apparent) lack of bugging. Super fishy. Some theories are chasing each other around in my head, but none seem promising. Mostly, I'm baffled too.
Color names are so crazy, 'Young Pioneer Rose' probably exists but just hasn't caught on yet.
Eager for the next installment!
It is confusing indeed, for me, it was in the other sense – "This is the ground floor, not the first!" – so I can picture your bafflement. It happens the same with the Japanese and British driving on the left.
Thanks for your super kind comments, Cary. I'm making it up as I go along, and therefore, I have to find a way to get out of this ever increasing tricky pickle.
That's how I write too. Even when I try to plan something out, things always veer off in their own direction.
Doors are fun for me too here, because of an evil false cognate: 'puxar' (push-AR) does not mean 'push'; it means pull. (Push is empurrar [em-poo-HAR], and semi-related: pular does not mean pull, it means jump.) It's a miracle I can get through doors some days.
🤣 Oh Cary, I find this so funny, you versus the almighty Brazilian doors.
Misha and his beautiful hands and his active imagination. What a catch. Too bad there's bible reading tonight.
Kevin, you summed it up perfectly. Thanks for your lovely comment!
Now I think about it more, I wonder about Misha winking at her; kindred spirits and not flirtation? Hmmm.
We'll see, dear reader, we'll see...
The team appear to have made a cautious entry into the city. One step at a time setting them selves up to export ideas. I wonder if a copy of Confessions of an Advertising Man by David Ogilvy was also in the trunk - a seminal work of persuasion.... Good luck to them! T
I'm sure it did, Tim, that's exactly the kind of books they should study. Thanks for your lovely comment and for restacking!
A longer chapter, Portia, but worth the time. I sense some history between Baranov and Mrs Goldberg…
Oh, Paul, you're such a delight, thanks! You sensed it right, there is.
I love the place you chose for your KGB's band: Dom Knigi, this small piece of Nevsky and Griboedov Canal, so many memories... And their dinner! Delicious! You are excellent in Russian details. The only a little bit strange to me, the soviet officialdom is a strong system of seniority, and your company is too friendly to each other. But you are the novelist and free to follow your wish.
You're right, Larisa, and I do make myself a lot of questions about plausibility, while I write this story. I take a lot of poetic licenses, hoping my more knowledgeable readers will forgive me. Thank you, as ever, for your lovely comments!
As someone who couldn't even write a short story to save his life, I'm in awe of people like you who write fiction. More please.
Grazie mille, Gianni.☺️ But you write beautifully about the stories of old Tokyo's and new Japan's, which technically require a knack for storytelling and the same inquisitive eye for details.
This was, as always, a lot of fun! And that classic old never gets stale!
Thanks for your comment and restack, Jeffrey, you're ever so kind!
"Let’s leave the past in the past where it belongs, and turn a new leaf."
That's some solid wisdom there. Nice post as always, Portia.
Thanks Michael, I'm happy you liked it!
Well, hello, Misha!
Hello indeed! Merci bien, David!