My friend Seryoga and my dad are asking me why I don't try to make some money in the construction industry leading up to 2010? For the World Cup. Why don't I get a construction job and start building? They say it would surely bring in good money... Indeed, outside the city, I saw some kind of stadium under construction. In the city—in Green Point—there is a real, huge stadium. And when Katya and I were climbing Lion’s Head mountain, I suddenly noticed and was incredibly amazed—how had I not seen it before—that in Green Point, right next to the second stadium I mentioned, a third one is being built (or rather, it seems they are completely reconstructing an old one). I think my dad would be interested to see these photos. And Seryoga too. And people in general. And it will be interesting for me in 2010 to look at these stadiums on TV and remember that I drove past them almost every day, since the routes from Sea Point, where I live, to the center or the Waterfront go right through Green Point, past these stadiums. In short, the city is being built, and even more so, it is being dismantled for now. Over the last month, several nondescript houses in the center have disappeared right before my eyes. Apparently, high-rises and business centers will soar to the sky in their place. So why don't I get into that? To answer this question reasonably, you need to live here for a bit. The thing is: here (in South Africa and Cape Town in particular), many areas of activity are divided into work for blacks, coloreds, and whites. Of course, there are plenty of areas where the staff is mixed. But construction, or, say, car washing, dishwashing in a restaurant, hotel porter, cleaning, and other such odd jobs—that is all work for blacks, and they pay pennies for it. But notice: back home, it's not Russians who do the construction, but Tajiks, Moldovans, and so on! Because whites ask for more for their labor and skills. Whites (even the locals) often start and find their niche as waiters. In business centers and similar places, it is also more often work for whites, and the pay is higher. Although it depends on the place. In general, salaries here are not great—lousy, like in Chelyabinsk. And finding a decent-paying one is a real struggle. In general, a lot of things here are like back home, for some reason. It's strange that among all of South Africa's eleven official languages (for which they are, by the way, in the Guinness Book of Records), there is no Russian. We would have become friends with them! Besides, Cape Town is a city of celebration, and Russians love holidays. And the general slackness, again, is damn reminiscent of our own, native ways. And I also wanted to note that I don't have a mirror at home. Really. I shave by guesswork! I find out how I look from photos. And I remember how I was. That is—ugly, when I got a short haircut and shaved before leaving. And handsome before that. P.S. Finally, a tip for lovers of good mayonnaise. Provansal or olive—that's up to your taste: if you really love mayonnaise, then you have nothing to do in Africa. Despite the fact that, in general, the food here is as tasty as in our homeland and very different from the disgusting English food, the mayonnaise here is still not quite mayonnaise. It's sweet or somewhat sweetish. Well, what kind of mayonnaise is that, you know?! But the bread! It's insane! I'm just obsessed—I'm going crazy over the local bread! How do they make it sooooo tasty? How will I be able to live without this bread later? People! Please, someone, set up the production of the same bread in Chelyabinsk as they have here, I beg you!!! I will pray for you for the rest of my life (even though I've never prayed before in my life). October 12, 2008