Hand me the Mace

Back in 1994 I spent two weeks in Ukraine and Russia on a school trip. It was a few years after the fall of the Soviet Union and the region was unsure of where it was heading. Kiev and Moscow weren't dangerous in the way a war zone is but I definitely wouldn't walk around by myself at night in a dark alley. Of course, in the tourist areas, everything was fine.

One unusual aspect of the region was the number of drunks. Public drunks: stubbing around, vomiting, passed out on park benches or in the streets, yelling at passerby's. There isn't a college campus in this country that can compare. Although I found it unsettling, I never felt threatened by the drunks.

In Moscow our group was staying at a Soviet era hotel, a long, gray, concrete structure, with no personality. The hallways inside were a block long. The red carpet was worn from years of ware and neglect. I was one of three boys staying in the room. Our room was a full city block away from the elevator. It was mid-morning and the three of us were hanging out in our room, killing some time before we had to go down stairs and meet up with everyone else for that day's group tour. Being young and not understanding the dangers of the city we were in, we didn't have the door locked. Without any warning, the door opened and a man stepped into our room. Standing in the entry way, he started yelling at us in Russian and waving his hands. Acting in the way that seemed appropriate to three 14 year olds, we rushed the man, pushed him out the open door, slammed it in his face, and quickly set the lock, all while he continued to yell. Soon we would be expected down stairs but there was no way we were going to leave while we could see him out the peep-hole. He stopped yelling after a minute and walked away.

Later that day we visited a museum. Most museum shops reflected the content of the museum's collection. This museum had a lot of medieval Russian artifacts so the shop had replica medieval weapons. I don't remember whose idea it was but one of us picked up a mace and said "we should get this for protection". When I say mace I don't mean the spray used to dissuade attackers, I mean its namesake: the medieval weapon used for crushing skulls. It had foot and a half wooden handle with a wooden sphere attached at one end. The sphere was about the size of four fists and had sharp wooden points covering it. Yes, it was a wooden replica but still definitely dangerous. We got the mace. That evening when we got back to the hotel we decided that the person with the bed closet to the door should have the mace, just in case something should happen at night.

No one came to our locked door that night. In the morning we left our room to get some breakfast at the dining room down stairs. So we walked out our room, locked the door, and began down the block long hallway to the elevator. About twenty feet away there was a man walking towards us. We walked passed each other and a few seconds later we heard a banging on a door. When we turned around, we saw the man banging on our door. It was a different man than the day before. Luckily we had all our money and passports with us so there was nothing in our rooms except our suitcases, our clothes, and our mace. As we were waiting for the elevator we could still hear him banging on our door. Obviously people thought someone else was staying there. Fortunately we were leaving Moscow for Saint Petersburg shortly after breakfast.