How I passed “Feis control”

 

 

 

Feis kontrol: a Russian klub colloquialism of the English words "face control." Your "face" is your level of wealth, beauty, power, social standing, and overall desirability. Feis kontrol is the power of the velvet rope, originally referring to the surly bouncers at the most exclusive Moscow klubs. It can literally refer to club door personnel, or it can be used figuratively to refer to some ideal social arbiter. (http://www.urbandictionary.com/)

 

From Laos to Ukraine is a pretty big jump . . . and although I’ve been here before, I find that the leap from the mellow land of smiles to the fast-paced oblasts of growing consumerism . . . well, “a leap”. Don’t get me wrong, it is great to be able to be here in Dnipropetrovsk (what some call Ukraine's second city next to Kyiv), go into a cosmetics store, supermarket, or clothing store and buy what you want (or at least approximately). Ironically, I am teaching university economics and management students – we are watching Michael Moore’s “Capitalism – A Love Story” as part of the course. In the three years since I’ve been here, I think Ukraine’s own love affair has become more passionate. Frequenting the 2 new-fangled malls, McDonald's, and "ahem" nightclubs is everpopular. The upside is that customer service has really improved, the post office has an English option on the automated take-a-number machine, the pizza restaurant is entirely non-smoking, and public drinking has been banned in the city center.

 

 

I’m here working on teacher development and content-based instruction at a university, but due to May holidays, I’ve been able to get out a lot. I have to admit that the teachers and students have seen to it that every moment of my time is spoken for. In the last 2 1/2 weeks I think I have done more than during any entire year of my life. It could be that my “little” Russian is going a “long” way. People open up to me, help me, and take care of me. I am amazed. For instance, I have:

 

• played tennis
• gone to the gym
• been to the art museum (where an elderly woman who worked there talked my ear off for 40 minutes before opening time - all in Russian!) and two galleries
• played air hockey (how did that fun a game ever go out of fashion?)
• taken a ride on a paddle boat (or a “pedal” boat)
• been on two walking tours (even one at 5:30 in the morning back to my dorm room)
• played Russian billiards (very small pockets!)
• gone bowling
• spent time at a "dacha" (country home)
• played basketball ("horse" - remember that one?)
• played chess (the 12-year-old kicked my butt twice)
• been ice skating (only fell once and it wasn't my fault)
• given food to a beggar
• had visitors from Kyiv take the 6 hour train ride to see me
• sketched in the park
• purchased collections of old Soviet movies (I love them!)
• seen a concert at the Philharmonic Theater (the conductor was something to see)
• had Russian lessons
• gotten locked out of my dorm room
• been stopped by the police (I’m sure it’s because I looked like a Lithuanian/Slovak Unabomber in my red hooded jacket and dark glasses)
• seen a guy sprayed with mace get arrested outside my window
• shot a BB gun
• eaten cotton candy
• bought a jacket with a fur collar (I didn’t realize it till after I paid; It dawned on me to ask the woman if the collar was real . . . she said, “Da, krolik (rabbit)” – I looked disappointed – she chuckled and said, “You greenpeace?” – I said, “Da”).
• been to a disco (oh yeah, I guess they are called “night clubs” now)

 

Which brings me to my story about getting into the club, or as much as I hate to say it: face control. They say you should "face" your fears . . . confront them. I guess I should be happy that I immediately passed "age control", i.e. they agreed I was over 18. When Katia (my friend from Kyiv) and I approached the door last Saturday night, the bouncer told us that we couldn't enter as we had worn "krossovki", a.k.a. tennis shoes. I could see that most women who were being allowed the privilege of entering were wearing metallic spandex and spiked heels; our striped Adidas were a giveaway that we hadn't thought ahead. So, as the students who had accompanied us all were "approved", Katia and I headed back to my "dorm room" to change into two pairs of "teacher shoes" (hey, it's all I had!). My brown pair was a roomy fit for Katia, but we wanted to get into this darn club and show them who's boss.

 

We taxied back to the club where our friends were waiting for us. The bouncer decided that the entrance was now closed to women. What the $%@*#!? Aren't nightclubs eager to get as many broads in the door as possible. Hey, Katia is like 21 or something - let her and her "mom" in, would you? So, needless to say, some spindle-y waifs traipsed to the "velvet rope" and were allowed admittance. Time to practice your Russian Jen: Pachemu? (Why?) Ya dumala shto eta vhod bila zakrita dlya devushki? (I thought this entrance was closed to women?) . . . no response, just an effort to fix his view somewhere in the distance to denote surliness as per the urbandictionary definition. Our exasperated friends phoned to the "inside". Contact was made with . . . behold a student who had been at my Friday workshop was a cocktail waitress . . . her chair had collapsed during the seminar and I had helped her back up. Yes - she was our ticket! Ina then called her contact: Mr. Security Man who somehow contacted the thugs at the "rope" and suddenly a heavily accented voice said: You are welcome. After I got over my fit of "that's not fair" . . . I enjoyed a bit of dancing, talking, and drinking a magically appearing free drink from Ina. Thanks Ina for getting me in and allowing me to announce that: I passed "Feis control"!