Chapter 1: Don’t suck helium to tackle a Russian hitman

Snt Petersburg in Russia (there is one in America as well btw) must be one of the most unexpected beautiful and interesting places I have ever traveled to. It was never on my bucket list, and I don’t think I have ever met anybody saying that it is.
I was in the military at the time when we were still fighting in Angola, and although we had all these “sanctions” because of the old Apartheid laws, South Africa was very much funded by the Americans or anyone who opposed Communism.
Angola was supported by the Russians via Cuba and the propaganda machine in South Africa indoctrinated us to hate anything communist, obviously fueled by America. I still very clearly remember the posters and media talking about “DIE ROOI GEVAAR”. (THE RED DANGER)

Our then government was 100% behind the non-communist for another reason – Russia was training ‘uMkhonto we Sizwe’ – the military wing of the ANC – in terrorist strategies as they were fighting to overthrow the government and try get a free and fair election in South Africa.
‘uMkhonto we Sizwe’ translated is actually a beautiful apt phrase, meaning “The Spear of the Nation”, and was founded by one of the greatest leaders the world has ever seen – Nelson Mandela. Obviously he was not such an angel back then, well, in our eyes anyway. Our government was doing what any dictatorship does to succeed: Keep the populous uneducated, but give them hope. It’s been happening all over the world, and unfortunately still being done today.
After the perceived fall of communism, and I fully believe if not for human greed it must be the best form of government, you were still left with the idea that the USSR was a backwards country, nothing spectacular to go see and a culture I was not interested in.

I could not have been more wrong. Well, for Snt Petersburg anyway, Moscow is another story – beautiful as well and lots of history, but due to some bad experiences there not my cup of tea.
Having flown all over the world, flying local in Russia for the first time was an interesting experience. Trying to navigate your way around Moscow airport with just about nobody speaking English, circumventing the taxi driver who barely speaks English who want to take you to the next departure hall (which on further inspection you find out is just up the escalator, 10m to your right) I board the plane. Trying to find my seat I see dogs, and many of them. Yes, in Russia you can take your dog with you as long as you share the seat.
The reason for me being in Russia was that I started working for a Russian company – mmhhh, no, actually a Swiss company as per registration – founded by two brilliant Russian gentlemen, one charismatic and a business mind beyond compare, the other a technical minded individual, of course also brilliant in his sphere – a match made in heaven.
Depending on who to believe, the fastest growing Data Protection company the world has ever seen, within 10 years an annual turnover of $1 billion dollars, which they then sold for $5 billion the same year – not bad if you think they did it without any outside investment, they owned the whole company – let that sink in.
So here I go on my first company get together in the unofficial headquarter city of Snt Petersburg.
The first night we have an EMEA (Europe/Middle East/Afrika) get together in a restaurant that blew my mind – once again beautiful with lot’s of character and excellent food. You realize quick there is not much of a service culture in Russia – but that is only because it is not the West’s plastic “Hi, how are you, how can I serve you as you are the best most valued person on the earth” service – they just do it. And they do it good.
The waiter, without asking how it should be done, serves each of us one of the best fillet steaks I have ever had, and I am not very fond of fillet. Putting the last fillet down he then appears out of nowhere with a huge whole Salmon placing it in the middle of the table – HUGE. Looking at us with his non-service non-smiling face he turns his head and say, first pointing at your plate, and then at the fish: “If don’t eat dat, eat dat” (that) and walks off.
They also serve warm beer in Russia as many European countries do, luckily every time I went it was in winter, so we South Africans would go outside, build a cooler box out of the snow, order 2 beers ahead and leave them outside in the snow cooler, problem solved.

Second night a formal function and then the last night a big party – and if there is another thing the Russians do very well, it is party. Copious and copious amounts of Vodka – straight up – as well as all the other drinks you would want. Pic right is one of the bar fridges, couple of cooldrinks and shelves full of Beluga Vodka – got to love this place!
Around midnight things start heading to a close, but as friendly South Africans we chat to the DJ to thank him, and then he says the wrong thing – he is on his way now to play at an underground club and if we want he can get us in – so off we go.
When he said underground, he really meant it. Based in some kind of industrial area, you walk down this long dark alley between two semi dilapidated buildings – down some steps into the ground where there is a door.

In front of this door is the biggest scariest looking man giant I have ever seen in my life – and that includes in the movies. Proportionally very well built, Dolph Lundgren in Rocky IV hairstyle, deep healed cut marks all over his face, and with the biggest fake smile bends down to open the normal sized door. Think about that – he bends down, to get to the handle, of a normal sized door – we are talking BIG here, and in our minds must have been KGB or Russian Special Forces hitman in his previous career.
I do not drink Brandy and Coke (much) anymore, it makes me rough. Not as in I want to fight or anything, I just get rough and everything rough is funny. Well-oiled from all the vodka, and being in a cold country I think – let’s have some brandy to warm up, what can go wrong?
After a couple I turn to my good friend Eric and say I would really like to tackle that bouncer, but I think he is going to break me in half though, so Eric must please come with me to see where mr BIG throws my halves. Eric, being Eric, and it is most probably why I love him so much, also think it is a good idea and outside we go.
Getting some extra courage and to smoke my last cigarette before my imminent death, we stand outside in the snow with mr BIG. As we stand there looking down the alley between the dilapidated rusting buildings, there comes two Russian gentlemen – one carrying a huge gas cylinder, the other a packet of some sort. Weird time to change the establishments gas we think, but they then gesture to us – we don’t speak Russian; they don’t speak English, definitely not Afrikaans – if we want some? Aagh we think, what a cool party trick to sell Helium to drunk people for some comic relief as the packet contained balloons, and they start filling one from the cylinder.
I take the balloon and suck it – and immediately drop to my knees. IT IS NOT HELIUM – IT IS POPPERS! (Taken from Wiki: Poppers are a type of inhalant that contain amyl nitrite and butyl nitrite. These products cause blood vessel dilation and muscle relaxation) Looking up, mr BIG’s fake smile turns into a real smile, I would say he might even have laughed a bit. These two gentleman’s business is to fill gas cylinders with Poppers, and then sell them in clubs a balloon at a time.
“Necessity breeds innovation”
I believe those Poppers most probably saved my life, for when I returned to normal, and the rush is fairly short lived, I lost all inhibitions to tackle mr Big, for looking up at him from ground level it dawned on me that it is not going to be a good idea.

I’ve been to Snt Petersburg many times after that episode, so very glad I could experience the architecture, people, food and culture of Russia when I could. Snt Petersburg has a cathedral the size of Notre Dame on every second corner, the Winter Palace is spectacular and most of the city buildings are fairly new as the city was just about destroyed during the 2nd World War and rebuilt, with cheap labour……
But as I am writing this the war with Ukraine is ongoing and I have not been able to make contact with some of my friends and ex-colleagues for several months. My heart goes out to them, as well as those in the Ukraine; I know they would not want this, no normal person would, but as Plato said: “Only the dead has seen the end of war” and in a song from one of my favorite bands:
“When the rich wage war, it’s the poor that die”
-Linkin Park-
Chapter 2: Russian Ladies, eating Whoppers and racing to the Creek
“A voice from somewhere under my stare asks in Russian which I assumed is “What would you like?” I start staring downwards to the voice, slowly to not upset Slim Shady, and this being my first Burger King and not being able to decipher the Russian, I remember from television programs/movies something called a “Whopper”. I mumble “Whopper please”, my slow stare down from the menu now reaching the voice, and in front of me stands a super-model.“
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