Not everyone can say they were arrested and interrogated by the Russians, but my wife Cathy can. Somewhere in Moscow, they still have a signed confession from her.

It was the winter of 1989 and Cath and I were stationed in Germany. Baerbel (Barbara in English), a German friend of ours who also worked in a travel agency, suggested that she and Cathy go to Moscow for a short trip. There was an upcoming trip her agency was sponsoring, and they, along with another American friend, Cindy, decided to go.

Cathy spoke with our friend Tim, who had studied in Russia for a few months, about the trip and things to do. He gave her a list of “musts”, and one huge caution:

         “Whatever you do, don’t trade currency on the black market. It is very risky, and is punishable by death. The same thing goes for buying items with foreign currency. Use officially purchased rubles only. Also, trading stuff like blue jeans will get you in trouble”.

Cathy thanked him for the advice, and then she and her two friends promptly packed extra jeans, perfume, American cigarettes, and Deutschmarks “just in case an opportunity presented itself”. They didn’t plan to actively seek out the black market, but if there was a chance, well….. Two days later, they flew from Frankfurt to West Berlin (this was about 9 months before the wall fell), linked up with the 25 other Germans on the trip, and made the connecting flight to Moscow. There, a bus took them to their hotel, where they were required to surrender their passport. Cathy was uncomfortable with that, but had no choice.

They weren’t at the hotel for 10 minutes before someone approached them about trading. Cathy and her friends all quickly turned the man down. That night the tour group had dinner together, and the next day, they all toured the city together in a bus. It was fun, but felt a bit stifling, so they decided to do some things on their own that night.

The following day, rather than board the bus for that day’s tour, they decided to wander the city on their own. They walked, cabbed and took the metro around the city. They started to have more casual meetings with some of the citizens, and that meant they felt emboldened. They bought some stack dolls for a ridiculously low price in Deutschmarks. One of them got an army belt buckle for a pack of cigarettes.  

That night at a restaurant, a waiter approached them – “Paul McCartney? Paul McCartney?” McCartney had recently released an album of old rock and roll songs that was recorded in Russia and only available there. Our friend Howard had specifically asked Cathy to look for it, and if she found it, get a copy or two. She bought three copies from the waiter….. They were on a roll now…

On the way back to the hotel, they met a man who wanted to trade for blue jeans. They arranged for him to come up to their room 5 minutes after they went up. There, Cindy started pulling out jeans and trading with the guy. Barbel and Cathy stayed in the background, where they popped a bottle of champagne and watched their friend Cindy go to work.

They next day, Cathy and Barbel ended up in the Arbat, the central district of Moscow with more of an artsy feel. You could find anything possible to buy. Cathy fell in love with a small painting. Now being a renowned black market trader, she didn’t want to pay the full price. Opportunity presented itself when a young man appeared who wanted to trade money. OK.  Twenty German Marks (about eight dollars at the time) exchanged hands for rubles. 

Just as she paid the man is when it happened. Two men approached her, flashed badges, and placed her under arrest for black marketing. They spoke to her in English, and this is when Cathy got a bit smart. She answered in German “Ich verstehe kein English. Ich bin Deutsch”. (I don’t understand English. I’m German). They persisted in English and she spoke only German. And Cathy and Barbel only spoke German to each other. Finally they took her away to a nearby building, with Barbel accompanying them. 

At the building, the interrogation continued, but only in English. And she continued to maintain she didn’t understand much English. This went on for a couple of hours and then they disappeared for a bit. When they came back, they were dragging the guy who had traded the money with Cathy. He didn’t look particularly happy. That’s when Cathy knew the jig was up. They eventually produced some papers written in Cyrillic, with no translation. She signed them. And as suddenly as it began, it was over. She was released.

Outside, Cathy and Barbel walked quickly away. When they’d gone about a block, Cathy said to Barbel “Do you still have some of the cigarettes”?    Barbel answered “you’re not going to trade again, are you”!? And Cathy answered slowly, “No, I’m going to smoke one”.

The last day of the trip passed without incident. They kept expecting to get stopped at the hotel, or at the airport, but they weren’t. The three made it out safely with their ill gotten gains (e.g. – no official receipts), and you will find the stack dolls, the samovar, the McCartney record, and a few other items scattered around our home. Cathy never did get the little painting….