Yekaterinburg, part 2

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She says the Russian-American marriages are difficult to arrange because (suburban) American men have big hang-ups about sex and religion. Russian women are more liberal in both regards.
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The next day, I go with my guide to the Monastery of the Holy Martyrs.
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I join two Irish girls Anna and Maedhbh with our guide for the trip.
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The girls have to wear skirts and headscarves to pay their respects.
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A mug shot in front of St. Nicholas's church. Despite appearances, this monastery site is a very sad place.
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After the Bolshevik revolution, the Communist radicals murdered Czar Nicholas II (who was by then powerless and acquiescent) and the entire Romanov family. After a series of almost comic botches of hiding the evidence of murder (including failures at cremation, bomb detonation, and the use of acid), the Commie thugs dumped their bodies at this location--which the Orthodox Church commemorates, even though the remains are buried in St. Petersburg.
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In the middle of this huge forest, this monastery has become a site of hope and pilgrimmage in honor of the Romonov family. The churches were all built using ancient techniques... without nails!
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Next, we stop for a late breakfast at this grocery store with a bizarre statue. For breakfast, I manage to order a "salad" and receive something with fish, beets, and mayonaise. (Yum!)
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Along the way to our next stop, we pass a "Kruschoi" building--a double entendre on the word "small" and Kruschev, who authorized this style of housing.
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Another tragic place of the Great Terror, the Kommunarov Memorial is dedicated to the 25,000 locals who Stalin had executed on a whim in the height of the purges of the 1930's.
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The site was kept secret during the Soviet era and was discovered by hunters in the 80's. People who had been indoctinated by Stalinist propaganda litereally couldn't believe it.
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But numbers do not lie about the viciousness of Stalin.
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Later we finish off our trip on a more upbeat note.
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We head to the Europe/Asia border. Notice every indicated city is not Russian, except for "Pragmatica" (mysteriously referring to Yekaterinburg).
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Asia! Europe!
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And me inbetween!
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Our humorous guide provide us honorary certificates acknowleding that we've crossed the border.
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In a photo op, we shake hands at the ceremonial crossing! (She is hilarious!)
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Along the way, we find this strange totem where people leave precious objects including hubcabs, keys, and business cards.
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It is a promise that the person will one day return.
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Yet another "bloody" church in the city, The Church of the Blood was built in the 90s to commemorate the Romonov execution. (The surely charming Museum of Atheism was demolished to pave the way.)
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As we arrive, there is the inevitable wedding of course.
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It is rumored that the Church of the Blood contains the most expensive icon commissioned in all of Russia.
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Respectful Orthodox women don headscarves and light candles in prayer.
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It is said that the staircase represents where the Romanovs "fell" to their deaths.
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Czar Nicholas and his family are represented beneath the Orthodox cross.
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Wandering past the musical auditorium, we find Tchaikovsky!
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I'm sure Lenin would scoff at this "Yellow Submarine" British Pub located on Lenin Prospect.
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And yet, the old icons of Communist ideology remain. This is a statue of Sverdlov--Lenin's right-hand man--after whom Sverdlovsk was named in the 20s. (It was thence renamed Yekaterinburg after the Soviet collapse.)
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At Soviet Army Square, I find this depressing memorial to the failed Russian invasion of Afghanistan.
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Even the bold constructivist aesthetic can stylize tragedy in a moving way.
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The Afghan War (1979-1989) represents, in many ways, Russian military arrogance perfectly...
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...the loss of life in the USSR's last war remains staggering.
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Wandering aimlessly, I pass the Master and Margarita discotheque. Even pop culture is obsessed with Bulgakov!
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A typical repair job in Russia.
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It's hard to explain the Russian arrogance about beauty (and materialist obsession), but perhaps this example of a local who won a "Glamour" contest might come close. She begins strutting through the teahouse with tremendous attitude! (But she's not all that, is she?)
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Next I make a trek to find the local cybercafe.
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This represents a typical misadventure where things just seem misleading (if in fact there is anything to lead you in the first place).
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I follow the jolly man in pursuit of the cypercafe.
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"Hey man, it's just right up this way!" Woo hoo!