But don't stop with the alphabet; get a set of phonograph records for teaching Russian. Play them while following the lessons in the book - and play them without the book while bathing, shaving, cooking, gardening, etc. A few hours of this will pay off to the point where you will no longer be dependent on an Intourist guide; it will triple what you get out of a trip behind the Iron Curtain. For a few dollars in records and a little work you change it from a losing game into one in which your investment will be well repaid in education if not in pleasure.
But to get fun out of it, too, you must understand the Intourist game, play it, and win. Winning consists in outwitting the system so that you get more than they intend you to get; it does not mean fair value in the fashion (for example) that a traveler invariably gets his money's worth in any Scandinavian country. It is not possible to get fair value in the USSR; the game is rigged against the American tourist. But there are ways to minimize the expense and maximize the return while having quite a lot of fun.
All travel in the USSR is controlled at every point by Intourist; you must buy from it all travel, all automobile and guide service, all hotel rooms, all meals - or if you buy a meal not from Intourist you simply waste a meal already paid for.
You buy from Intourist at four rubles to the dollar - and you are licked from scratch as the value of the ruble is closer to forty to the dollar (which is the rate the Soviet government gives to favored visitors such as Asians they are trying to woo into the Communist camp).
You can cut costs by ordering cheap accommodations. Three grades are offered: Luxe, Tourist A, and Tourist B. A single man might risk Tourist B if he did not mind public toilets and baths of uncertain cleanliness, plus sharing sleeping space, dormitory style; a couple might risk Tourist A, which is supposed to be (but is not) equal to first - class travel elsewhere. But I cannot honestly urge anything short of "Luxe" class because even the best in Russia is often shockingly bad by our standards - bathrooms without baths, even hotels with no baths, tubs with no hot water, plumbing that is "quaint" or worse, poor cooking, dirty utensils, maddening waits. The lodging for Luxe class is often a huge and fantastically furnished suite, but a first-class double room & bath in any other country is more comfortable.
Luxe class costs $30 per day per person (3 Dec 79 - Kremlin rate $182.40 - World free - market rate $370.29) and includes lodging, meal coupons, and three hours of guide and automobile service per person (thus six hours for a couple) - if you get it. It does not include any train, plane, or bus fares. Add these in, plus round trip air coach fares from New York, and a month in the Soviet Union will cost an American couple at least $4500 (3 Dec 79 - Kremlin rate $27,360.00 - World rate $55,543.50), plus spending money and extras.
You will get at least twice as much for your money in any other part of Europe, but the real problem always is to get what you have paid for and Intourist has contracted to furnish you.
Start by realizing that Intourist is not really a travel service in the sense in which Thos. Cook or American Express is. It is a bureau of the Communist government and its function is to get those Yankee dollars in advance, channel you through a fixed route, then spill you out at the far end almost as ignorant of their country as when you started. P. T. Barnum's famous sign "This Way to the Egress" anticipated the basic Intourist principle: Get the sucker's money first, then get rid of him with the least trouble to the management.
So treat it as a game and don't fret when you lose. Try to get a good night's sleep - the bed may be awful but it will be quiet because there is almost no traffic - and try again the next day.
For example: the guide is not there to guide you, the guide is there to make sure that you see the stadium - so try not to see a stadium anywhere in the Soviet Union. Surely they have stadiums; any people so devoted to "Togetherness" have stadiums - how else could they display ten thousand people all doing physical jerks at once? (A "Spartakiad") But remember that your fixed cost is about $20 just to look at a stadium (with no football game thrown in) and that, in diverting you to the stadium, Intourist has kept you from seeing something of real interest, a factory, a slum area, or a school.
Stadiums haven't changed much since the Romans built the Coliseum; if you have seen Yankee Stadium, Soldiers' Field, or the Rose Bowl - or even the football stands of Podunk High - you've seen enough empty stadiums to last a lifetime. So refuse!
But the guide has orders that you must see the stadium; no other theory will account for the persistence with which all Intourist guides insist that you see the local stadium. If you manage to get in and out of the Soviet Union without visiting a stadium, award yourself the Order of Hero of Soviet Travel, First Class.
(We saw a lot of them - nobody had warned us.)
Each Intourist hotel has a place called the "Service Bureau." "Service" in this usage is an example of Communist semantics comparable to "co - existence," "peace - loving," "democratic," etc. Here most of your battles with Intourist will take place. Second only to the passed - out drunk, the most typical sight in the Soviet Union is an American tourist seated in a service bureau, his expression getting tighter as the weary, expensive minutes trickle away.
Intourist rarely uses the blunt refusal on this unhappy creature; instead the standard tactics are please - sit - down - and - wait - for - just - a - moment (which usually turns out to be at least an hour), I'm - sorry - but the - Director - is - out (and won't return as long as you keep hanging around), come - back - later (when the desk will be closed), and go - to - that - desk - at - the - far end - of - the - room (where, after more delay and much consultation, you will be sent back to the desk from which you started).
When facing this, to get part of what you have paid for (and anything over 70% is a triumph, with 50% par for the course) you must stick to pre - planned defensive tactics and never, never, never lose your temper, or you will wind up a fit candidate for wet packs and sedation.
Their first weapon is politeness. You must resist this soporific politeness or you will not get anything.
First - Stage Defense: Be just as polite as they are - but utterly stubborn. Above all, don't sit down when invited to. If you do, this retires you from the game for an indefinite penalty period. Hold your ground, standing firmly against the desk and taking up as much space as possible - lean on it with hands spread wide to double your combat frontage. Say firmly and politely:
"No, thank you, I'll wait right here" - then monopolize that desk and clerk, making it impossible for business to be transacted until Intourist has honored your contract on the point you have raised.
Keep talking. It does not matter what you say nor whether the clerk understands English - keep talking! Your purpose is to take that unit of Intourist out of the game until your request has been met, not with promises but with immediate action - whereas their purpose is to get you out of the game by persuading you to sit down away from the desk.
So hold your ground and be softly, politely stubborn. Usually someone with authority will arrive in a few minutes and satisfy your request.
Defense in Depth: Be prepared to simulate anger at any instant. It is much better to pretend to lose your temper before things have grown so unbearable that you actually do blow your top; it saves wear and tear on your ulcers and enables you to conduct your tactics more efficiently.
(And I must say a word on behalf of Intourist employees. About three quarters of them are young women, girls really. They are nice people, polite, harassed, overworked, and underpaid. They are prisoners of a system which automatically frustrates the traveler, and they are more imprisoned by it than you are, for you will escape (we hope) on the date set forth on your exit visa. They can't. These poor kids did not invent the silly red tape and mountains of useless paperwork and those in the lower ranks have no authority to vary from it. So don't be too harsh and try not to lose your temper in fact.)