REPORTER'S NOTEBOOK

	One student's expensive trip via Moscow public transportation By ANUSHA SHRIVASTAVA Posted Tuesday, March 20, 2002; 8 p.m. EST

When the cab driver charged me 90 roubles instead of 30 for a trip to Arbat Street, I should have known it was a harbinger of worse things to come. I was cheated by him in the morning and robbed by street people in the afternoon.

In a crowded subway car, I was studying a map with Masha Kramarenko, my guide and translator for the day. Suddenly, Kramarenko pushed away a girl standing right behind me and said something to her in Russian. I turned around for a brief moment and saw a gypsy girl with a green shawl wrapped around her back, a baby's head popping out over her right shoulder. The next moment, Masha and I were in the subway car and the girl was still at the station. "Do you have everything?" asked Kramarenko. I looked into my handbag and realized my black wallet was gone. My heart sank.

A university student named Anton standing nearby overheard the exchange. He offered to help and said we should backtrack to try to catch the gypsy girl. We did.

Back at the Lenin Library station, we saw the group of five girls, four of whom had babies tied to their backs with dirty shawls. They were barefoot and their hair wasn't combed. While Anton ran to call the police, we saw the girls moving away from us. We followed them. Kramarenko walked up to the thief and said in Russian: "We know you have the wallet. Just give our papers back." Two girls from the group ran away. Before we could react, one came back and handed my wallet back to me.

The money was gone - $100 in bills, a little more than 1,000 roubles and traveler's checks worth $150. Even the change had been cleaned out, save for one Russian coin that the thief didn't bother to take. My credit cards, driver's license and medical insurance cards were intact.

When Anton came back with a stern-looking policeman, Kramarenko informed him of the incident. He marched us into a crowded police station inside the subway station. I'd been to a Russian court and a Russian railway station the day before. This was an addition to my circuit.

A police officer dressed in a gray uniform, sat at his desk, talking to two men who were behind bars in a tiny enclosure. He gave Kramarenko a short lecture about how we'd never get the money back and how I should have carried a better bag. Kramarenko, a fourth-year law student, nodded.

We thought we could leave but were escorted to yet another police post in the subway station. Here, too, we were told I shouldn't have been carrying so much money. The futility of the effort to recover the lost money was evident, as was the attitude of the police. They made it clear that it was all my fault and I'd paid for it. Kramarenko tried to share the blame saying "I kept telling you to tie your shoelaces. I could have also told you to be more careful." I assured her that she was a heroine and without her help, I wouldn't have gotten back my identification papers and credit cards.

The day before, Kramarenko saved Jennifer Ho and Molly Knight from being arrested at Red Square for attempting to film. Today, she helped me get my papers back. When told about both incidents, Professor Ari Goldman was impressed. "Looks like I'll have to give Masha a raise," he said. I second that.