International Women's Day

I’ve smelled that cologne before; and each time I have, I’ve smelt a rat.
~ James Bond (Sean Connery) in Diamonds are Forever

Wednesday was Women’s Day in Russia, a huge holiday that’s a combination of Valentine’s Day, Mother’s Day, and a little bit of Christmas. I was prepared for the holiday in principle, but I wasn’t expecting the elements of Halloween that crept in.

We marked the occasion at work on Tuesday. I got to the office early and found it filled with balloons – some 800 according to the decorators – covering the ceilings and surrounding the arches of the entrance. Inside, all the men gathered in the lobby to congratulate and greet the women as they arrived. Each received a big bouquet of flowers in addition to our thanks and best wishes.

It was a holiday atmosphere during most of the work day, too. Ladies in the office exchanged gifts with one another, and the boss made the rounds handing out presents. Still, work for most went on, and the 5.7% drop in the main market index was largely ignored everywhere except the trading desk.

Last week, the men had a meeting to discuss our plans for celebrating the holiday. I had a hard time following the gist of the conversation. Normally, I can at least divine the sense of the topic. This time, though, I couldn’t. So just after I congratulated myself on having my Russian get worse while actually still living in Russia, I thought about it a little more. “Nah”, I said to myself as I mulled over some of the vocabulary, “that couldn’t possibly be what they were talking about”

As it turned out, I had understood the conversation all along. This became apparent to me on Tuesday at 6pm as I stood in our conference room with my pants off picking out a kilt. We had rented some 25 sets of Scottish dress and a bagpiper to surprise the ladies, so we had all crowded into the room to change surreptitiously. I was the only guy in boxer shorts. The horror. The horror.

Somehow, manliness and Scottishness were highly correlated in my colleagues’ eyes. So they decided to don kilts for both the humor and – well, mainly for the humor. A man wearing a skirt is a very funny idea to the Russians. Apparently much, much funnier than we give it credit for. It really was a big hit with the women in the office. I found that it got a lot funnier with each glass of Scotch.

Wednesday was a day off from work, and at a friend’s birthday party I had the opportunity to show the photos to a native Scot. She just blinked at the back of my camera, and shook her head. “I’m not quite sure what to say,” she said politely.


Party a la Russe


Neither am I, really.