US – Anna’s Out of Town News

The US In Need of Perestroika?

Gorbachev’s 1987 perestroika signaled beginning of the end for the USSR. Perestroika means re-building in Russian; it primarily referred to re-structuring of the Soviet economy, although it did lead to significant political changes in the Soviet bloc. It collapsed, erasing one of our two superpowers from the world’s geopolitical map, making for a unipolar and then a multipolar world… and the rest is really poli sci 101.

Twenty-ones years later, Mr. Gorbachev is back proposing a new kind of perestroika: for the US.

America needs perestroika right now. I did a lecture in the US and said the country needs its own perestroika and I got a 10 minute standing ovation,” said the man whose own policies helped trigger the collapse of the Soviet Union. “

(President) Obama’s proposals will be bigger than perestroika. I want to wish success to Obama and his Cabinet, because the problems he has to deal with are not easy ones.

Of course, President Obama is not exactly leading a Communist nation with command economy, but he does need to change, maybe fundamentally, the way economics in the US functions.

Interestingly enough, Gorbachev challenged the communist behemoth and ended up making it capitalist; Barack Obama, president of possibly the most pro-capitalist nation in the world, is perceived as ‘socialist’ by his political foes. He was in fact accused of being a socialist during his campaign. Remember Joe the Plumber’s accusation of Obama being on the ‘slippery Socialist slope’ of trying to ‘spread the wealth’?

Whether it is called socialism, communism, or any other -ism, Obama’s plan to ‘spread the wealth around’ makes sense in this economy. The supposed wonders of free economy led to the worse economic downturn since the Great Depression. What’s worse is its impact on the world; the recession in the US caused a domino effect of national currencies worldwide tanking, trade stalling, consuption fallin, and a myriad other negative effects. At least the USSR’s socialism/communism and its ill economic consequences was limited to only a handful of countries.

As Mr. Gorbachev knows all too well, socialism has many problems. As President Obama is learning, capitalism has serious problems of its own. It seems that what they need is a perestroika of economic theory, not just economic policies.

“Obama Grants:” Free Money or a Free IQ Test?

When I log on Facebook, I am often offered cash for reporting on my “prep school,” tempted with a discount for a “law school prep” company, offered a “paid investment internship,” or challenged to an “online IQ test.”

Sometimes the ads directly pertain to Yale (e.g., ads for the Yale Rep plays), so I assume the ones above are a product of Facebook’s targeting advertising.

I used to joke sarcastically about the stereotype that the advertisers have about the Ivory Tower. Clearly, to them a typical Yalie is a prep school grad who goes to prep school, gets an i-banking internship, and heads straight to law school, where s/he hangs her IQ certificate on the wall of their dorm.

But as I logged on tonight, there was a somewhat different ad:

I ignored it at first, but it resurfaced in this reincarnated form:

To be honest, when I saw these ads, I thought that it was some sort of practical joke on the oh-so-smart Ivy-Leaguers. You know, of a kind that would have a huge pop-up window saying “How stupid are you to have fallen for this” when you click on an ad. But the ads link to website where a proud-Texas-firefighter-turned-financial-guru offers you to “get free $12,000 from the government in 30 days.”

The government clearly owes me a bunch of easily accessible cash. Oh wait, I am not a US citizen, and my government clearly does not think it owes me anything. Although I do have a feeling that if I pay $2.99 that Kevin is asking for the “free grant kit,” I might find out that the US government owes me money, too.

So Kevin Hoeffer, a trustworthy-looking fella, claims to have gotten rid of his debt and starting living a nice life (presumably consisting of visits to steak houses in NYC) after getting “free cash” from the government.

I have to admit I don’t know how to react to all this scam. If Facebook does use targeting advertising (and if it does not screen its ads), should I be offended for being considered so stupid?

Maybe I should go take one of those you-are-at-Harvard-but-are-you-a-genius IQ tests.

Obama, Palin, and Russian Glamor

Yale newspapers and magazines recently turned to international students to find out our perspective on the U.S. presidential campaign. After all, it’s easy to run out of fun material over the course of a 1.5 years long presidential campaign. We are supposed to have a fresh outside perspective.

When I started my freshman year, the presidential campaign was already going on, so I have been exposed to it as much as most Americans. After I found out I had to pay taxes in the US, I have been obsessively following the tax policies of both candidates. Like most foreign Yalies I know, I watched presidential and vice-presidential debates. So much for the fresh perspective.

So I asked the real outsiders — my friends who live outside the US.

The vast majority of my Russian and Ukrainian friends and acquaintances — the younger crowd — would vote for Barack Obama if they could. But in general, the older Russians get, the more they like McCain. An average Russian man hardly lives to be 60, so a 72-year old candidate is an inspiring role model to many. “I wish my husband was so lively” — my friend’s grandmother said of her 72-y.o. husband. “What foreign policies? I don’t care what those capitalists are doing.”

I quizzed my 20-something Obama-favoring friends on their rationale. In a surprising correlation with their college majors, they explained what aspects of the democratic candidate’s tax, education, healthcare, and foreign policies they favored to those of McCain. And then something else came up: Obama is oh-so-glamorous (“a он ничего такой, очень гламурненький”).

Russia is all about glamour. What is known as ostentatious in other countries, is every-day wear in Russia. Mini skirts and high heels are equally worn to class, work and parties. Some restaurants have special side tables for the It Bags. Several haute couture brands have more boutiques in Moscow than in London or NYC. Books that teach girls how to marry an oligarch are bestsellers. And politics has been becoming more glamorous, too.

Our President’s recent video blog post (and yes, he has one!) spurred demand for the stylish Mac laptops: he clearly prefers them to the good ol’ PCs. He was even spotted playing with his iPhone before they became legally available in Russia. Our ex-President-turned-prime-minister has video of him doing judo all over YouTube (and pictures of him with a naked torso that show off his muscles; he is in a great shape). The Ukrainian prime-minister is known for her hairstyle and fancy outfits as much as for her policies.

No wonder Barack Obama with his tall and slim frame, well-fitting outfits and an elegantly-clad wife is a favorite with Russian women.

To be fair, Sarah Palin is also perceived as glamorous. A stereotypical Russian woman wears stiletto boots and furs in the winter, and Palin gives off an image of someone who could totally pull it off. Her recent $150K worth of a shopping spree is definitely approved by the Russian women (she even managed to do it with someone else’s money, a dream of a stereotypical glamour girl). She is in a great shape and wears fashionable clothes. Her four — or is five? Most Russian women lost track (or lost Track. Ha!) — kids raise some well-waxed Russian eyebrows. But of course, a true glamour girl has a glamorous reason to have kids — “Ah, I get it — she had so many fashionable pregnancy clothes that she wanted to become pregnant again and again to be able to wear them!”

If Barack Obama wins, as most my friends hope, they will take great pleasure in praising his and his wife’s looks at the inauguration and beyond. If that happens, Sarah Palin shouldn’t give up. She should simply move to Alaska’s behemoth neighbor. Her glamorousness guarantees a huge success. After all, we all know she is already an expert on Russia.

“Russian Seasons” at JFK — the Russian Interns Are Coming!

I blogged several times about the complexity of Russian Women — Western men relationships. I wrote about the mail-order Russian bride websites; I made fun of the scammers who rip off Western men looking for such a bride; and I wrote how these societal trends make some Russian women, including myself, uncomfortable when they are abroad. To get an outsider’s perspective (which, surprisingly, turned into an insider’s perspective), I asked my dear friend Arnie Zambrano to write a guest post for me. I know he is interested in finding an Eastern European soulmate. Over a course of a recent MSN conversation, his “Russian Intern Season” at JFK (which is where I actually met him) came up. So here’s what he has to say:

(please note — I may not agree with the author’s opinion (especially about the Ukrainians :)) ), I asked Arnie to write it as his personal opinion on an interesting phenomenon).

Every year around June, I anticipate the hoards of pretty Eastern European girls who will come through the gates of JFK. To see them makes me truly happy that I work for an international airline and get to spend time at an international terminal. Even though I’ve been working in JFK for 3 years, every year, I still look forward to the Russian Intern Season as much as a child anticipates Christmas.

So what is the Russian Intern Season?

It’s the time when Russians and other Eastern Europeans send many 18-24 year old girls to the United States to work here for 3-9 months. Thanks to an agreement with the United States and Eastern Europe, CCUSA (Camp Counselors USA) hand-picks (or so the rumor has it) only the best looking women out there (some men participate, too, but I am not interested) to work in the US. They work as camp counselors — or work other similar jobs. For over 90% of them, it’s their first time in the states (and even abroad), so these young ladies are looking for a friend to get them oriented. That’s where I come in.

I’m the pioneer of my personal Russian Intern Season (RIS) at JFK. The young post-Soviet ladies flock to the specially organized JFK’s CCUSA’s desk. For the first 3-5 days, they are free to do whatever they please, so here’s your (and mine) chance to charm a pretty Eastern European!

I started the RIS when I got sick and tired of American women (I’m American, but find our women too arrogant high maintenance — compared to the Eastern European ladies). It’s simply standing at the carousels (after I do my job for an airline, of course) and having to pick the most amazingly looking girl in the intern group. At times it’s so hard, since there are so many great ones to choose from. Most of them are Russian, but there are also Ukrainians, Moldovians, Armenians, Georgians, Kazakhstan, Belarusians etc. And I am the first American man they can talk to. You can’t get more “fresh off the boat” than that.

Why do I like these Eastern European ladies so much? Unlike American women, they don’t ask to take them to expensive restaurant or to take them shopping! Perfect date material.

It is remarkable how you can identify a nationality of an Eastern European female by the way she talks to you. And no, I don’t mean an accent. Here’s my personal classification:

–Ukrainians: Wear Blue T-shirts. When you start a conversation with them, they look at you in a confused manner. [Note from Anna — as a half-Ukrainian myself, I find it hard to believe, but oh well].

–Russians: Wear red T-shirts. When start a conversation with them, most of them give you that nice warm smile; they generally have so many interesting things to say. Overall they are very glad that you are talking to them no matter the situation.

–This year, however, the new hot thing are the Kazakhstanis (T-shirt color: orange). They are brought over here by boatful, and I love spending time with them. It definitely makes after work hours and my days off much more entertaining.

Any Ukrainian reading this post is probably thinking “Why does this author hate Ukrainians?” I know there are some nice ones out there. I personally have been lucky to meet a select few. But it seems that they’re keeping all the nice and sweet ones in Ukraine. (Guess the Ukrainian guys want to keep their nice women for themselves — good for them). Unfortunately, so far, I haven’t had any luck in meeting a nice Ukrainian intern. So I stay away from the blue-clad crowd.

Most of the girls don’t stay in NYC for too long; some of them are here for only one or two days. Then they go off to their respective workplaces, which could be as close as Ocean City, NJ (3 hour drive from New York) to San Diego, CA (6 hour plane ride). But for an adventurer like me that’s what makes it more entertaining. I met a couple of Kazakh girls and spent a couple of days with them before they went off to Los Angeles, CA. I was planning on going to LA in a 3 weeks time anyway. Now I have someone with whom to hang out over there (in case you’re wondering how I can afford to travel, working for an airline gets one cheap or even free flights).

I will most likely end up marrying a sweet Russian girl, but she has to be a Russian-Russian, not a Russian-American. I can’t stand Russian-American women. They are aware of how Eastern Europeanly beautiful they are, plus they’re extra snobby, since they were born in the US. My Russian-American co-worker is a perfect example. She manipulates all the guys in doing favors for her, makes them spend money on gifts, and, simply put, walks all over them. (She even admitted that she made my friend, who is blindly in love with her buy, her a Prada handbag… and they were not even dating!!) On the other hand her Russian mom also lives in the US. Being born in Russia, she’s such a great person. I am not attracted to her (not my age category, really), but if I had a choice between a Russian-American daughter and her Russian mom, I’d go for the latter. I am worried that if I marry a Russian, which is want I really want to do, my children will be the product of the same thing I hate!

Sometimes, I look at the Russian Brides websites, and I can’t help but laugh at all these ridiculous fees that they add on just to talk to her and see a picture. You even have to pay anywhere from $1000-$5000 to have her sent to the USA. If I were someone looking for a Russian Bride, I wouldn’t need to go further than JFK. Just stand outside the international terminal during the Russian Intern Season — and have your pick. Most of them are extra friendly, but good luck with the blue-wearing Ukrainians. (On a side note, if you’re on the internet all day looking for Russian Brides, get a life!)

By the way, if you for some reason are not attracted to the Eastern-European looks, there is also my Brazilian Intern Season. Lots of (hot) Brazilians come from Disney World to go shopping in New York. Sadly, only few speak English, but with my knowledge of Spanish, English, French and Italian, I can pick up a great percentage of what they’re saying. To anyone else, you’re out of luck.

I’m off taking a Russian girl to Coney Island, thank you CCUSA 😀

The Troubles of Paying Taxes At Home While Abroad

I have never had to pay taxes. In fact, I don’t even have a Russian tax identification number since I am never in the country long enough to go through all the bureaucracy. Recently, the Office of International Students and Scholars at Yale kindly informed me I had to file a tax return to the US government. Since they provide every international student with the tax software, I was anticipating a fairly easy process.

The process was not as painless as I hoped, but I have survived (although answering endless questions on whether I was secretly married in 2007 or had a citizenship I was hiding from the IRS was not really pleasant). At the end there was a nice surprise: I qualified for a fat tax refund.

I got curious and went to the IRS website to investigate. It turns out the US has a number of bilateral tax treaties with various countries. According to the IRS, “residents (not necessarily citizens) of foreign countries are taxed at a reduced rate, or are exempt from U.S. income taxes on certain items of income they receive from sources within the United States.[1] <#_ftn1>” According to the software, I qualify for a tax refund because of the tax treaties with Russia. A 27-page long document provided by the IRS explains the treaty; it was signed in 1992 by President Bush. I went through the entire document and learned that this tax refund means I have to pay tax in Russia.

Now, I really want to be an honest Russian taxpayer. My question is, how do I become one?

All employed Russians are supposed to have an Individual Taxpayer Number (ITN), which is akin to a SSN. Getting one is a fairly tedious procedure. One cannot get one at the embassy, it has to be done in Russia. Provided I waste lots of my summer time and do it, what happens next?

A Russian friend of mine was in a similar situation last year. She received a nice scholarship from her college, filed her tax return, received her tax refund and then decided to pay tax in Russia. When she
went to the Russian IRS, they laughed at her. Just proving she had an income required much paperwork, all translated into Russian and certified by a notary, which is fairly expensive. Providing she had gone through all this trouble, she probably would not be able to actually pay the tax. Russians do not write checks, and transferring money from her American account (the only one she has) to the Russian IRS account is insanely expensive. And the best part of it is: the IRS officers told her not to bother. Apparently, unless she reports it herself, no one in Russia will ever know if she received any money from the private college in the US. And since her income is not in the 7 digits bracket, they
“don’t really care.”

I will do my best to pay taxes in Russia. I am just not sure I will be able to.

Furry Boots: Straight Man’s Kryptonite

anna ershova in russia What does one get for wearing PETA-unfriendly fluffy and furry winter boots? Apparently, lots of (unwanted) male attention.

The spring finally seems to be settling it here in New Haven, and as I was putting away all my winter clothes I came across a pair of winter boots that have made me very confused about men.

I went to Russia for the winter break last year, and brought along all the warmest clothes I had. However, because I had been living in Hong Kong at the time, my “warmest jacket” was actually a very thin blazer. Once I walked out of the airport in Moscow, I realized I had forgotten just how cold Russian winter can get. So I ended up rushing to the mall. Since I got really cold on the way there, I was looking for the warmest shoes and jacket possible. I faced a dilemma: either facing my own death by hypothermia or buying something that involved animals dying. Any shoes or jackets available had fur on them.

I managed to choose a jacket with the smallest amount of fur possible (still, why would anyone to have mink trimming on their pockets?). No such luck with boots: the warmest ones had sheep skin on the inside and lots of fluffy rabbit on the outside. I felt really bad for those rabbits, but I really, really, really wanted to make it through the winter break. So I bought those boots.

The winter was even colder this year. I went to Russia this winter break and made really good use of my warm clothes. I then decided to take some of them to New haven, since the weather forecast was not very promising for a hot weather aficionado like me.

To be honest, I was afraid that in the US some PETA activist would attack me, cut off the fur, and accuse me of crimes against animals. It would have been totally fair, but I did not want to throw the boots away having only gotten to wear them for a month total. I consoled myself with the thought that wasting one’s shoes is environmentally unfriendly anyway. And so my boots had their Yale debut… and Yalies (male ones, at least) turned out to be rather less environmentally conscious than I had thought.

For the first week of the semester, I observed the same intriguing male behavioral pattern. Guys I barely knew came over and announced my boots were “cool.” Then they reached over and tried to “pet” the dead rabbits’ fur. When it happened for the first time, I got scared. Here I was, sitting in a lecture browsing through the syllabus and this guy was trying to touch my shoes! Creepy, and strangely enough, it happened more than once.

My boots were complimented by some of the roughest and most unsentimental of men—those you would never imagine paying attention to anyone’s shoes. This list includes several policemen, coffee shop baristas, dining hall workers, an immigration official at JFK, and my teaching assistant.

Women never seemed to pay any attention to the furry masterpieces of the Italian shoemakers. I heard a couple of “oh your shoes are cute, nice to see you, bye’s” from friends, but that was it. So what was it that made so many (supposedly straight) men pay attention to my footwear? Did it make them feel like they were back in the Stone Age, when men would go off and hunt and their womenfolk would make fur shoes out of bear skins? Were they confused to see something that did not look like the ubiquitous “Uggs?” Did these boots have magic powers? I don’t have an answer.

Glossy magazines tell women they should wear strappy stilettos to attract men. I say, forget that and try furry flat-soled winter boots instead—just go for something synthetic, so the animals will fall for you, too.

One iPod Convert’s Quest to Buy a Zune

Several years ago, I was given an iPod (a now obsolete 30 GB Classic) as a gift. I can’t say I was a big fan. iTunes is not exactly pleasant software to use, and my attempts to load some podcasts or videos onto it were futile. Still, I was happy just listening to the music on airplanes, hiking and on my way to class. And then it disappeared from a desk in my dorm room (destined for ebay or wherever it is ‘missing’ ipods go).

I missed it, but not badly enough to go buy one right away. I assumed I would just buy one at some point, but I was waiting for Apple to come up with an iPod in red – my favorite color. I briefly toyed with the idea of painting the one I used to have with nail polish/acrylic paint or putting a cover on it, but none of these solutions would make it perma-red, so I decided to accept it the way it was.

And then my boyfriend got a Zune. He had it customized (who would have thought some people out there want a picture of two robots fighting laser etched onto the back of their MP3 player?) and obsessively tracked it as it went from the factory in China to Alaska and then to his home. This trip through half of the world lasted for three business days.

I was very skeptical at first. It is only available in one color – plain, boring black. Yes, it has a radio – and WiFi – but who cares, given that the sleek look of an iPod is so much more familiar. The price — $249 — and the memory capacity — 80GB — are the same as the 80GB iPod I had been considering. A Zune is slightly larger, but it would still fit in my purse. It also has a larger screen, but I only used the one my iPod had to click my way through my playlist. As I said, I was one of the many iPod owners who never mastered the seemingly easy process of using it for anything but listening to the music.

As I watched my boyfriend easily navigate the Zune software and the website, I started believing that I could one day muster up the courage to watch some news podcasts on that 3.2 inch screen (3.2 in is still an abstract number to me, but 8.13 cm is impressive). And wirelessly syncing it with my laptop? Ah so very alluring.

Still, I was vacillating. If there were a red Zune out there, I would have gotten one right away, but making a step from the familiar clumsiness of an iPod to the unknown Zune world was painful.

Watching the National Geographic podcasts on my boyfriend’s Zune while on the subway was the last straw. The feature on polyandry in the Himalayas left me persuaded: I want it for myself (a Zune, not two extra boyfriends).

I was in Boston, so I thought there had to be some Zunes in the metro area. I went to a Best Buy – and there were none sold. An entire range of iPods, from a Shuffle to an iPod touch, was, however, represented. But the only Zunes available were the 30GB ones and overpriced 4/8 GB flash models.

One abortive trip to Staples and many calls to various stores later (“Are you sure you don’t want a 30GB one? They even have it in white”), I gave up. Maybe there were some places where one could buy an 80 GB Zune in Boston, but spending an entire day hunting them down is not exactly my cup of tea. Opting for the clunky older versions didn’t seem like that good an idea, either. By that time, I was in full blown retail therapy mood and was not willing to give up.

I could have bought it off the Zune website, but I didn’t really want it customized. Spending an extra $10 or $15 does not seem reasonable since I plan putting red vinyl covers on my Zune (I had researched them well before I decided to buy one). So I opted for the last resort: Amazon.

The order went through Monday evening; it is supposed to be here on Wednesday. For now, I am molesting my boyfriend’s Zune and loving it. While I am doubtful about the utility of the ‘Social’ function (there are not that many Zune owners on campus), I am very happy about the radio: I just found out that it provides the wavebands for US, Europe, and Asia. I just have to make sure that I develop a high level of tolerance for Canto pop, a staple on the Hong Kong radio.

It took my boyfriend’s endless efforts to convince me to get a Zune, and once he had persuaded me and we ventured out to buy one, it was nowhere to be found. What good is all the marketing if the product is unavailable?

For now, I’m sitting here molesting boyfriend’s Zune, waiting for the UPS truck…

The Western Medical Paranoia, Herbal Teas, and Why Russians Fear the Cold

I could have become a competitive swimmer, but the Soviet Union stopped me.

I had nephritis (a kidney infection) when I was five and the doctors instructed my mom to keep me away from swimming pools. They said that any exposure to “cold” water (anything with a temperature below boiling, in their opinion) would cause another bout of nephritis. My parents strictly followed that rule, making sure I only got to swim in the warm sea in the zenith of the summer for no longer than ten minutes. It was only at thirteen that I rebelled and signed up for swimming lessons at a local pool. My coach said I had an excellent potential, but started practicing too late to achieve competitive results.

Many children who grew up in the post-Soviet Russia were banned from swimming by the doctors. According to the Soviet medical logic, a female who sits on something cold/swims in something “cold” is bound to end up with an infection of her reproductive system that will definitely leave her infertile. A male who does the same will also experience an infection that will leave him infertile. If a child has ever had a kidney issue, then a prolonged exposure to “cold” water will cause renal failure and many fatal health issues. Nowadays, there are reasonable doctors in Russia who believe in scientifically proven theories, not bizarre superstitions. But every time I am in Russia, I hear mothers telling off their daughters for sitting on the “cold and dangerous” ground. Given the cold Russian winters and the low fertility rates, those mothers might be onto something.

I am having a kidney infection right now (and I have not been swimming or sitting on cold surfaces recently) and went to see a doctor today. The hospital is in the US, so I had to tell my medical history to a doctor whom I had never seen before . I briefly mentioned my kidney infection and the superstitions linked to it and she flashed me an understanding smile. Her parents are European and she has had her share of medical superstitions as a child. She was told she would get arthritis if she sat on something cold or didn’t wear clothes warm enough. Like most children, both of us did not obey the rules and still appear to be in a fairly good health.

Apart from medical superstitions, all countries to which I have been enjoy self-help ways of curing diseases. Having a cold in Russia? Eat garlic and drink linden tea with honey. Sick in Germany? Inhale steam coming from a bowl of hot water with onions and potatoes in it. Russians in particular seem to favor herbal teas. There are teas galore in most pharmacies, believed to cure everything: from obesity to diabetes to impotency.

Just like Russians, other nations are keen on using “natural cures.” A doctor in Hong Kong prescribed me ginseng (boil a handful of ginseng roots, take three times a day with meals) for feeling tired. It ws extremely effective, although the taste was abominable. A friend of mine wasn’t so lucky. She went to a pharmacy in an attempt to get rid of something that was most likely an allergic reaction to pollen. She came back with a package of a “6-flowers-cure” – a mix of dried flowers. Since the tea — quite predictably — made her feel worse, she resorted to the original plan of taking over-the-counter antihistamines, which worked well. But then, I know someone who claims an exotic mixture of dried snakes, deer antlers and herbs makes a life-changing tea.

While some nations favor a more natural approach to treatment, some favor pharmacological industries. A widely spread stereotype claims that the North Americans consume more anti-depressants than the rest of the world (Prozac, anyone?). Interestingly enough, many mental disorders are considered “purely American” worldwide. You can rarely find a European talking about a bipolar syndrome or ADHD. While both disorders certainly get diagnosed and treated, it seems to happen less often than in the US. In fact, I might have been diagnosed with ADHD if I grew up in the US.

I was extremely active and loud as a child. A friend of my parents has a guest visiting from the US. She was a psychiatrist and, taking one look at me, announced I had ADHD. My parents simply ignored her diagnosis (that was soon after the USSR collapsed, and no Russian was going to take an advice from an American doctor)–besides, they did not know what ADHD was. I tried researching it in Russian recently, but it was futile. None of my Russian friends had heard about this disorder and they certainly don’t know what a Russian term for it.
Apart from being loud and active (which I still am), I never exhibited any other symptoms of ADHD. I wonder if I would have been treated from it had I grown up in the US? You know, just in case I had it.

The “Western medical paranoia”, as the doctors in Russia refer to it, proved to be very contagious. I was very overworked when I came home to Russia for the winter break once. I was in my senior year of high school in Hong Kong. School was exhausting, college applications were annoying and I never wanted to hear the word “SAT” again. The Russian weather was cold and gloomy and I missed the Hong Kong sun. I couldn’t sleep properly. I kept having nightmares about lipase and helicase (Biology was my least favorite subject at school). I guess all I needed was lots of rest, maybe some retail therapy and chamomile tea to calm my nerves. However, by that time I had spent enough time abroad to think I also needed an anti-anxiety medication (I was pretty proud of myself being oh-so-civilized and westernized). My mom thought the idea was hilarious, but let me find a psychiatrist (the only available medical specialist in Russia who deals with anxiety etc; there are psychologists, but all they can do is talk to you since they don’t have a medical education and can’t prescribe anything).

The doctor seemed surprised when I told her I came because I couldn’t sleep properly.

-Do you have hallucinations?
-No.
-Any suicide thoughts?
-No.
-Sleep-walking?
-No…

She glared at me. “So WHY are you here?”

I have been sticking to the chamomile tea ever since.