Monday. July 6

HOORAY, I'm getting my stuff back today! Probably... that's what's stressing me out. But there's a chance... a small one. Henry helped me get in touch with a cool local named Ed Nakamura. He also works at IHS, and his job is to find work for us (the shelter guests). Honestly, the organization is amazing... they feed us better than at the hostel. They give me free transportation. Now they're even looking for a job for me, even though my sponsor, who was paid to do this, refused to help. I'm going to meet Ed now, and in the evening (at 5:30) I'll pick up my things and life will get better... I hope.

By the way, I wasn't surprised at all when the "morning shift supervisor" Caroline called me into a small room (the same one where I answered a crazy amount of questions on the first night) and told me it would be better for me not to hang out with Henry because he's... homeless... And he doesn't work at IHS at all, like he told me the day we met.

Tuesday. July 7

Another twist in my fate. Yesterday, Ed spent 9 hours trying to find me a job. We drove around a million diners, stopped at a parking lot where I took a math test and had an interview; they said they'd call back on Thursday. Towards the evening, when there was very little time left before I had to go get my things, I stopped by Planet Hollywood to see how my job application was going. And there... I met a Ukrainian guy named Kolya. SHOCK. JOY. The first Russian speaker in a week. It's a miracle. After work, he showed me a whole colony where Russian guys live. This place is called Island Colony. A room on the 40th floor (WOW). I didn't get my things back yesterday.

I arrived at the hotel, and they told me the manager had spoken with Higher Management and they concluded that they shouldn't give them to me until the room owner, Barry, shows up...

But at the hotel (while I was dealing with them), I met Paris again (the guy who helped me find my hotel on the first day)... He said he had a job for me...

• You know, we put ladies in rooms and they make money...

Great, Paris, just wonderful!!! On the first day, I met drug dealers, for the last 2 days I hung out with a homeless guy with gold teeth... and now a PIMP!!!!

Paris was told to get lost... and I still didn't get my things back. Not on Monday, not today. They told me to come back on Wednesday. After that, I went to my new Russian acquaintances. I sat on the 40th floor, telling my crazy story... people were in shock. I can imagine how insane it sounds from the outside.

Since there was no room for me in that room yet, Kolya said I could sleep with him and his roommate... that's when I met another Ukrainian, Yurka... there are so many of them here... I'm surprised I didn't hear any Russian at all for a week... ))))

Wednesday. July 8.

Today I prepared more thoroughly. Friends from Moscow told me how to contact the Russian consul, Natalia Owenn... oh miracle!!! She agreed to spare some time and come to the hotel... Then I went to the shelter and said goodbye to the people there, told them that everything seemed to have worked out for me.

As it turned out, I didn't need the consul's services.

I'm standing in the hotel lobby, arguing with the same manager... and then, completely by accident, I see Barry walking past the hotel through the window. That same asshole whose room my things are locked in... I ran faster than I ever have in my life. I had to run around the other side of the hotel to find him... And I did it. I literally dragged him by the scruff of his neck to the front desk, where he solemnly declared that I could take my things. By the way, that's when the fact of why they hadn't given them to me for so long came out... It turned out that Rick and Barry were busted the very night they both left the room to check me in... And they had been sitting in jail for the last three days until they were released on bail... That's the story...

There were no apologies from the hotel management to me. Absolutely nothing. For the first time in a week, I felt completely calm and happy. Now I knew where to sleep and where to live =). My story was officially recognized as the wildest in the Russian community. When I moved in, it turned out that two guys (my neighbors) had just come from the courthouse where they were acquitted. For a long time, they were the main sources of groceries in our house... they would take out whole carts from stores, but the day before I arrived, the freebies ended because they got caught. In general, I often think about theft: why does this happen specifically in America, nobody does this back home. It's not because we have nothing to eat here... and it's not because it's easier to do it here: in Moscow, many products don't have magnetic strips either. I haven't come up with the answer myself yet. But it's definitely not out of desperation.