The lesser-known 17th circle of Dante's Inferno

is the cloakroom of the Hermitage in St. Petersburg. I tried three different "lines," all of which disappeared as soon as I got into them. One was even official: a man in a green jumpsuit saw me get in a line, and then yelled (in Russian, so I am kind of guessing at this) "Hey, form a new line, away from that American! That's right. All you schoolchildren! Make sure you shove her a lot!" After the third try, I gave up and was about to climb the nearest statue and start gibbering and throwing things like a deranged monkey. Knowing that I would only get in more trouble that way, I clung to a nearby column while Karyn took my coat and shoved her way to the counter. She said it was fun to "get her New York on," but I would have preferred to carry the coat (and a goat, a boat, and a moat). But they won't let you keep your coat. I know this because we got chased out of another museum door by another old lady, screaming at us and making stripping motions with her hands. Thank Heavens it only meant that we had to check our coats.

Getting the coat back wasn't any easier. I took my number, 624, to the counter marked with the 600s. A woman who looked just like Kyle's grandmother yelled at me and motioned me away to the next counter. I took my number over there. Another woman yelled at me and motioned me back to the first woman. At this point, I began yelling and gesturing a bit myself. "SHe told me to come Here!" said my hands. Then the two women began yelling and gesturing at each other. Kyle's grandmother lost (unbelievably), and I was sent back to her, where she took my number as if she had never seen me before.

And, yes, Heidi, I saw some magnificant cathedrals, too. But I am posting my un-PC stories on the family blog and tonight I will post more sanitized stories on Petrie's Progress--with photos. I am trying to decide how much is too much for my students to read. Will they still respect me if they know that I spent the train ride home vomiting into a shopping bag? NOTE: when in Russia, don't eat Pizza, no matter how hungry you are.