Saturday, January 27, 2007
1-27-07
IMPORTANT---Posts should be read in order of date, ie, scroll down to the earlier ones first. I write this on my computer and then post them online when I can. Also, I'm a moron, so some of them are dated '06 and one of them is posted twice. Whatever.
1-27-06
I am currently in the internet café near the Metro. It’s Saturday night and Kate and I met up here with our laptops to feel connected to the world again. It’s a nice feeling. You know what else was a nice feeling? Sleeping in this morning. I didn’t wake up until there was actually light coming through my curtains. Yeah, first time that’s happened. Marina also slept in. I had a nice hot shower and then an omelet. I wish I could start every day here like that.
Then I met up with the rest of the CIEE gang at Pushkinskaya Metro station and we boarded a train to Pavlovsk. Pavlovsk is the site of the palace of Paul I. The palace was a palace, nothing too exciting. Okay, that sounds stupid, but really. It’s just so ridiculous to walk into opulent room after opulent room in the house of a guy who was only tsar for three years. He was strangled to death in his other palace in St. Petersburg because of his unpopular policies. What could be so unpopular? Perhaps enforcing a citywide bedtime in St. Petersburg of 8 o’clock and expecting nobles to rise at 5am to work in the city. This came after the liberal late-night partying of his mother, Catherine the Great’s, era.
What’s really great about Pavlovsk is the grounds. It’s on a 400-hectare (Marina showed me a book about it after dinner tonight) parcel of land that’s largely birch and pine forest. This, combined with the fact that it snowed last night and today and the place was beautiful. I took a ridiculous amount of pictures, and I’ll see if I can figure out how to put some on here.
After that it was a long, cold train ride back. Dinner tonight indicated that Marina has, I believe, exhausted her culinary repertoire, as it was a repeat of my first night’s meal and my breakfast was a repeat of my first breakfast. That’s fine with me, everything was tasty. While I was eating dinner, I heard familiar music come from the TV. Marina must’ve seen me perk up, because she went and turned it up so we could both watch and listen from the kitchen. It was the Russian version of Who Wants to Be a Millionaire! I actually was able to get a question right that had the contestant and Marina stumped. The question asked what was Rambo’s first name. I was so confused just hearing the question because in Russian, the ‘a’ in Rambo receives the stress, so the ‘o’ automatically reverts to sounding like an ‘a’. This meant that they kept saying “Ramba” and I had no idea who Ramba was and no idea what his first name was. But then I realized they were also saying “Stallone” and made the connection. I watched the rest of it together with Marina and she translated for me the questions that I couldn’t understand.
She then gave me the book on Pavlovsk and showed me her TV program guide that indicated there was an American movie on and asked me if I wanted to watch it. It’s always nice to hear a poorly dubbed movie, so I watched about an hour of “Ashanti” starring Michael Caine and Peter Ustinov. After that, I came here, and here I am.
Today marks the 63rd anniversary of the breaking of the blockade of Leningrad during WWII. There were parades, which I missed because I was in Pavlovsk. There are also terrifying commercials on with pictures of things like the Bronze Horseman statue boarded up and search lights going back and forth over a dark St. Petersburg. The only noise in the commercials is the sound of an air raid siren and then the words “We Remember” come up on the screen. Marina mentioned the anniversary as I was on my way out the door. I really want to ask her about it, if she was here for it, but that’s kind of an awkward question to ask. If I do, I’ll write about it, for sure.
1-27-06
I am currently in the internet café near the Metro. It’s Saturday night and Kate and I met up here with our laptops to feel connected to the world again. It’s a nice feeling. You know what else was a nice feeling? Sleeping in this morning. I didn’t wake up until there was actually light coming through my curtains. Yeah, first time that’s happened. Marina also slept in. I had a nice hot shower and then an omelet. I wish I could start every day here like that.
Then I met up with the rest of the CIEE gang at Pushkinskaya Metro station and we boarded a train to Pavlovsk. Pavlovsk is the site of the palace of Paul I. The palace was a palace, nothing too exciting. Okay, that sounds stupid, but really. It’s just so ridiculous to walk into opulent room after opulent room in the house of a guy who was only tsar for three years. He was strangled to death in his other palace in St. Petersburg because of his unpopular policies. What could be so unpopular? Perhaps enforcing a citywide bedtime in St. Petersburg of 8 o’clock and expecting nobles to rise at 5am to work in the city. This came after the liberal late-night partying of his mother, Catherine the Great’s, era.
What’s really great about Pavlovsk is the grounds. It’s on a 400-hectare (Marina showed me a book about it after dinner tonight) parcel of land that’s largely birch and pine forest. This, combined with the fact that it snowed last night and today and the place was beautiful. I took a ridiculous amount of pictures, and I’ll see if I can figure out how to put some on here.
After that it was a long, cold train ride back. Dinner tonight indicated that Marina has, I believe, exhausted her culinary repertoire, as it was a repeat of my first night’s meal and my breakfast was a repeat of my first breakfast. That’s fine with me, everything was tasty. While I was eating dinner, I heard familiar music come from the TV. Marina must’ve seen me perk up, because she went and turned it up so we could both watch and listen from the kitchen. It was the Russian version of Who Wants to Be a Millionaire! I actually was able to get a question right that had the contestant and Marina stumped. The question asked what was Rambo’s first name. I was so confused just hearing the question because in Russian, the ‘a’ in Rambo receives the stress, so the ‘o’ automatically reverts to sounding like an ‘a’. This meant that they kept saying “Ramba” and I had no idea who Ramba was and no idea what his first name was. But then I realized they were also saying “Stallone” and made the connection. I watched the rest of it together with Marina and she translated for me the questions that I couldn’t understand.
She then gave me the book on Pavlovsk and showed me her TV program guide that indicated there was an American movie on and asked me if I wanted to watch it. It’s always nice to hear a poorly dubbed movie, so I watched about an hour of “Ashanti” starring Michael Caine and Peter Ustinov. After that, I came here, and here I am.
Today marks the 63rd anniversary of the breaking of the blockade of Leningrad during WWII. There were parades, which I missed because I was in Pavlovsk. There are also terrifying commercials on with pictures of things like the Bronze Horseman statue boarded up and search lights going back and forth over a dark St. Petersburg. The only noise in the commercials is the sound of an air raid siren and then the words “We Remember” come up on the screen. Marina mentioned the anniversary as I was on my way out the door. I really want to ask her about it, if she was here for it, but that’s kind of an awkward question to ask. If I do, I’ll write about it, for sure.
1-26-07
1-26-07
Well. I took my files on a flash drive to school, and I could open them, but Blogspot refused to open on any of the computers in the lab. Tonight Becky recommended a free WiFi place near the Metro closest to school, so maybe I’ll check that out Monday after classes. On the one hand, I’m loath to lug my laptop around all day; because I worry about it and because it’s heavy and I do a lot of walking. On the other hand, if Idealnaya Chashka isn’t going to work for me, I’m going to have to find an alternative to post these things.
It’s kind of frustrating to look on my desktop and see entries from the 21st, 23rd, and 24th just sitting there knowing that they haven’t seen the light of day. But honestly, I am going to work on it. Obviously, if you’re reading this, I’ve found a solution. Unless that solution is something stupid like posting all of them in May when I get home.
So! Yesterday was my first visit to the Hermitage! First of many, I believe. It’s just simply too much to do in one day. We were there for at least two hours, just wandering around, and I know we didn’t see half of it. Hannah and I have both seen Russian Ark, though, so sometimes we would enter a room and say, “Oh! This is where he ran into Pushkin!” or “Oh! This is where he ran into his friends in modern times!” After that, it was tasty chicken and noodles here with Marina.
We had been told after classes that there was some kind of street party that night, Thursday, in celebration of St. Tatiana’s Day. St. Tatiana is the patron saint of students, so apparently all students of the city were invited. Plus, there were going to be fireworks. I love fireworks. Lots of people were making plans to go, so Hillary and I planned to meet up at Gorkovskaya Station and ride the metro in together. Well, we get there, and there’s a stage, and a bunch of people standing around, and some ridiculously loud and horrible Russian pop playing. There are students there, oh yes, but they’re all standing off to the side. Who was dancing in the street? Old people. Babushkas. Big women in fur coats and grumpy looking old men in little caps were busting some serious moves. Hillary and I just couldn’t look away for a while. But eventually, we realized no one else was there and we were freezing, so we turned to leave.
Before we can turn the corner, however, we run into Andrey, a fellow student. He assures us that more people are coming. Eventually Lael and Mattison arrive, and Marisa’s on the way. Once the newcomers get a taste of the “party,” they get cold and want to go somewhere else, too. So we end up at the “Off Road Café.” It’s a themed bar/café. The walls and floor are all rough-and-tumble adobe and dirty-style, and there’s a flat screen TV on the wall playing some Russian off-roading show. So we got warm there and then went back out to see a display of the fire arts. There were too many people to see it well, and honestly I’ve seen better on the beach of Lake Monroe in Bloomington. So at this point we start to walk away, but then the fireworks went off! It was great. Here I am, in St. Petersburg, Russia, on a street, freezing my butt off, listening to “Fergielicious” at a ridiculous volume and watching fireworks. Good times.
Today after classes we went on our official excursion to Peter and Paul Fortress. This gave me my first opportunity to take pictures. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll figure out a way to get them online.
When I walk home from the Metro, I usually look straight forward or at the ground. The other day, I shook things up and actually looked around. It was then that I noticed the sign with the sombrero and cactus that said “El Machete” in Cyrillic. Yes. I was super pumped about some Tex-Mex food. So after our excursion, a few of us made plans to be brave and try the Russian attempt at Mexican food.
El Machete’s location looks pretty sketchy at first glance, but it’s really nice and welcoming on the inside. The five of us sat at the only table in the middle of the room and made Hannah do the ordering for us. Our food was…interesting. It wasn’t bad, per se, but it certainly wasn’t Mexican. I ordered the burritos with beef and Hannah ordered the enchiladas with chicken. We’re pretty sure that other than the meat inside, we received the same thing. On the menu it said that it came with, “Mexican Salsa!” I’m not sure what the “salsa” was supposed to be. We each had two tortillas filled with meat, cheese, and possibly some egg. The burritos/enchiladas were then covered in some kind of sauce. It was yellow with green specks. It was kind of mustardy, but mostly flavorless. It’s possible that this could have been the salsa. This also came with a small scoop of rice with corn and green beans in it. And in a little bowl there were about 4 kidney beans in what Hillary said tasted like watered-down ketchup. It is also possible that this was the salsa.
Becky ordered the flauta and she basically got one of the tortillas that Hillary and I got, minus the yellow sauce and grilled in a pan. Kate ordered a quesadilla. Now, I didn’t take Spanish in high school, but I’m pretty sure “queso” means “cheese,” implying that the basis of a quesadilla is cheese. Kate essentially got mixed vegetables in a folded over tortilla. No cheese. She also had something that looked a lot like actual salsa, but she tasted it and it was simply tomatoes and dill. Hannah got the tortilla soup and it seemed to be just canned soup with tortilla strips and big hunks of cream cheese and avocado in it. This may all sound terrible, but it actually wasn’t half bad. It was cheap, too. It certainly wasn’t Mexican, but we definitely had to give it a shot.
After that we went to Idealnaya Chashka and hung out until it closed. Then I came back here and sat down to write this. As of the time of writing, Marina is not home. It’s her friend’s birthday. She left before I left and she’s still not back. Yeah, kind of makes me feel like a loser.
Tomorrow we’re going to Pavlovsk. Hopefully it will be very snowy and pretty. Right now I’m looking forward to sleeping in a bit and then showering to get the smell of smoke out of my hair. Hopefully hopefully hopefully I can get this up online soon. Bear with me, large reading audience. This is all for you. I just need to find a workable, convenient solution. I haven’t even been in the city proper for an entire week yet. Tomorrow, however, will be my one week anniversary. Go me.
Well. I took my files on a flash drive to school, and I could open them, but Blogspot refused to open on any of the computers in the lab. Tonight Becky recommended a free WiFi place near the Metro closest to school, so maybe I’ll check that out Monday after classes. On the one hand, I’m loath to lug my laptop around all day; because I worry about it and because it’s heavy and I do a lot of walking. On the other hand, if Idealnaya Chashka isn’t going to work for me, I’m going to have to find an alternative to post these things.
It’s kind of frustrating to look on my desktop and see entries from the 21st, 23rd, and 24th just sitting there knowing that they haven’t seen the light of day. But honestly, I am going to work on it. Obviously, if you’re reading this, I’ve found a solution. Unless that solution is something stupid like posting all of them in May when I get home.
So! Yesterday was my first visit to the Hermitage! First of many, I believe. It’s just simply too much to do in one day. We were there for at least two hours, just wandering around, and I know we didn’t see half of it. Hannah and I have both seen Russian Ark, though, so sometimes we would enter a room and say, “Oh! This is where he ran into Pushkin!” or “Oh! This is where he ran into his friends in modern times!” After that, it was tasty chicken and noodles here with Marina.
We had been told after classes that there was some kind of street party that night, Thursday, in celebration of St. Tatiana’s Day. St. Tatiana is the patron saint of students, so apparently all students of the city were invited. Plus, there were going to be fireworks. I love fireworks. Lots of people were making plans to go, so Hillary and I planned to meet up at Gorkovskaya Station and ride the metro in together. Well, we get there, and there’s a stage, and a bunch of people standing around, and some ridiculously loud and horrible Russian pop playing. There are students there, oh yes, but they’re all standing off to the side. Who was dancing in the street? Old people. Babushkas. Big women in fur coats and grumpy looking old men in little caps were busting some serious moves. Hillary and I just couldn’t look away for a while. But eventually, we realized no one else was there and we were freezing, so we turned to leave.
Before we can turn the corner, however, we run into Andrey, a fellow student. He assures us that more people are coming. Eventually Lael and Mattison arrive, and Marisa’s on the way. Once the newcomers get a taste of the “party,” they get cold and want to go somewhere else, too. So we end up at the “Off Road Café.” It’s a themed bar/café. The walls and floor are all rough-and-tumble adobe and dirty-style, and there’s a flat screen TV on the wall playing some Russian off-roading show. So we got warm there and then went back out to see a display of the fire arts. There were too many people to see it well, and honestly I’ve seen better on the beach of Lake Monroe in Bloomington. So at this point we start to walk away, but then the fireworks went off! It was great. Here I am, in St. Petersburg, Russia, on a street, freezing my butt off, listening to “Fergielicious” at a ridiculous volume and watching fireworks. Good times.
Today after classes we went on our official excursion to Peter and Paul Fortress. This gave me my first opportunity to take pictures. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll figure out a way to get them online.
When I walk home from the Metro, I usually look straight forward or at the ground. The other day, I shook things up and actually looked around. It was then that I noticed the sign with the sombrero and cactus that said “El Machete” in Cyrillic. Yes. I was super pumped about some Tex-Mex food. So after our excursion, a few of us made plans to be brave and try the Russian attempt at Mexican food.
El Machete’s location looks pretty sketchy at first glance, but it’s really nice and welcoming on the inside. The five of us sat at the only table in the middle of the room and made Hannah do the ordering for us. Our food was…interesting. It wasn’t bad, per se, but it certainly wasn’t Mexican. I ordered the burritos with beef and Hannah ordered the enchiladas with chicken. We’re pretty sure that other than the meat inside, we received the same thing. On the menu it said that it came with, “Mexican Salsa!” I’m not sure what the “salsa” was supposed to be. We each had two tortillas filled with meat, cheese, and possibly some egg. The burritos/enchiladas were then covered in some kind of sauce. It was yellow with green specks. It was kind of mustardy, but mostly flavorless. It’s possible that this could have been the salsa. This also came with a small scoop of rice with corn and green beans in it. And in a little bowl there were about 4 kidney beans in what Hillary said tasted like watered-down ketchup. It is also possible that this was the salsa.
Becky ordered the flauta and she basically got one of the tortillas that Hillary and I got, minus the yellow sauce and grilled in a pan. Kate ordered a quesadilla. Now, I didn’t take Spanish in high school, but I’m pretty sure “queso” means “cheese,” implying that the basis of a quesadilla is cheese. Kate essentially got mixed vegetables in a folded over tortilla. No cheese. She also had something that looked a lot like actual salsa, but she tasted it and it was simply tomatoes and dill. Hannah got the tortilla soup and it seemed to be just canned soup with tortilla strips and big hunks of cream cheese and avocado in it. This may all sound terrible, but it actually wasn’t half bad. It was cheap, too. It certainly wasn’t Mexican, but we definitely had to give it a shot.
After that we went to Idealnaya Chashka and hung out until it closed. Then I came back here and sat down to write this. As of the time of writing, Marina is not home. It’s her friend’s birthday. She left before I left and she’s still not back. Yeah, kind of makes me feel like a loser.
Tomorrow we’re going to Pavlovsk. Hopefully it will be very snowy and pretty. Right now I’m looking forward to sleeping in a bit and then showering to get the smell of smoke out of my hair. Hopefully hopefully hopefully I can get this up online soon. Bear with me, large reading audience. This is all for you. I just need to find a workable, convenient solution. I haven’t even been in the city proper for an entire week yet. Tomorrow, however, will be my one week anniversary. Go me.
1-24-07
Another day of writing, another day of not posting. I really need to get more regular about this. But honestly, today, I TRIED. I hauled my laptop around all day for the express purpose of going to Idealnaya Chashka after classes and just hanging out there for an hour or two online. But for some reason this time it wasn’t working. My laptop said there was a full-strength signal, but nothing would come up. That was frustrating. But I still have over an hour’s worth of time there; I’ll try again, maybe tomorrow, or maybe the weekend. Currently, I’m toying with the idea of just taking the last three posts I’ve written on my flash drive and attempting to post them from the lab at school. The guy that works there is really creepy, though.
So as of now, it’s been over a week since I’ve been at home. It won’t be a full week in Russia til tomorrow at about 4:45 and it won’t be a full week with Marina until Saturday. As frustrating as my experience in the café was (No one wants to sit on a computer surrounded by smokers with no idea why the internet won’t work and no way of communication what the problem is), I’m actually beginning to think that I might just be able to do this! By this, I mean, RUSSIA.
We had Conversation again this morning, followed by our class called Gazeta. In Gazeta we’re basically learning how to read and listen to the news in Russian. It’s about as thrilling as it sounds. Then we had lunch, and after lunch was Civilization. This class seems like it’ll probably be a good time, as the instructor is very lively. I’m quite pleased with the percentage of discussion in class that I’ve been able to understand. If all goes according to plan, that will only increase in the coming months.
We had mushroom soup, hot dogs, and cabbage for dinner tonight. I don’t know why I feel the need to write about everything I’m eating, but the mere fact that I was able to shovel as much cabbage into my mouth as I did surprises me, so I think I want it on record.
I swear, Marina is some kind of social butterfly. I have no idea what she does all day (that seems like an awkward question to ask, but I have to, eventually), but she’s getting calls every hour of the day and she just talks and talks while she watches her soap operas with way too dramatic music and horrible make-up effects for people with facial injuries. Also, I’m pretty sure that one girl has amnesia. I just watch it from the kitchen while I eat dinner. I can see half the screen and only kind of hear the dialog, a large chunk of which I don’t understand. But it seems to me that people are always either in the hospital or getting arrested. Some kind who had just gotten out of the hospital got arrested yesterday.
I think I’ll keep this one short; I actually have my homework tonight. Oh, and I was able to get my homework done yesterday before class, and then we didn’t even have to turn it in. Whatever. It’s weird to think about homework. I mean, I know this is STUDY abroad and not just SPEND TIME abroad, but it still kind of feels like we’re all at summer camp. Except in a huge, polluted, dark city. I’m sure that camp feeling will end soon. Okay, I’m crossing my fingers that I’ll actually post this tomorrow….
So as of now, it’s been over a week since I’ve been at home. It won’t be a full week in Russia til tomorrow at about 4:45 and it won’t be a full week with Marina until Saturday. As frustrating as my experience in the café was (No one wants to sit on a computer surrounded by smokers with no idea why the internet won’t work and no way of communication what the problem is), I’m actually beginning to think that I might just be able to do this! By this, I mean, RUSSIA.
We had Conversation again this morning, followed by our class called Gazeta. In Gazeta we’re basically learning how to read and listen to the news in Russian. It’s about as thrilling as it sounds. Then we had lunch, and after lunch was Civilization. This class seems like it’ll probably be a good time, as the instructor is very lively. I’m quite pleased with the percentage of discussion in class that I’ve been able to understand. If all goes according to plan, that will only increase in the coming months.
We had mushroom soup, hot dogs, and cabbage for dinner tonight. I don’t know why I feel the need to write about everything I’m eating, but the mere fact that I was able to shovel as much cabbage into my mouth as I did surprises me, so I think I want it on record.
I swear, Marina is some kind of social butterfly. I have no idea what she does all day (that seems like an awkward question to ask, but I have to, eventually), but she’s getting calls every hour of the day and she just talks and talks while she watches her soap operas with way too dramatic music and horrible make-up effects for people with facial injuries. Also, I’m pretty sure that one girl has amnesia. I just watch it from the kitchen while I eat dinner. I can see half the screen and only kind of hear the dialog, a large chunk of which I don’t understand. But it seems to me that people are always either in the hospital or getting arrested. Some kind who had just gotten out of the hospital got arrested yesterday.
I think I’ll keep this one short; I actually have my homework tonight. Oh, and I was able to get my homework done yesterday before class, and then we didn’t even have to turn it in. Whatever. It’s weird to think about homework. I mean, I know this is STUDY abroad and not just SPEND TIME abroad, but it still kind of feels like we’re all at summer camp. Except in a huge, polluted, dark city. I’m sure that camp feeling will end soon. Okay, I’m crossing my fingers that I’ll actually post this tomorrow….
1-24-06
Of course, I didn’t go to the café yesterday. Today (the day of writing, not of posting…God, this is confusing) is Tuesday. Yesterday was my first day at Smolny. Okay, you guys, I’m going to classes in pretty much the coolest place ever. Look up a picture of Smolny Cathedral if you don’t believe me. I’m not taking classes in the ACTUAL cathedral, but in one of the same-style buildings surrounding it. It’s all very baroque and sky-blue and is nice on the gloomy winter days we’ve been having.
There’s this place, after you get off at Petrogradskaya Metro and turn left to cross under the street, where there’s a magazine stand. The stand has rectangular lights on both sides and down the middle. The lights simply cannot be traditional bulbs; the light that they produce is far too natural looking. I swear to God, every time I round that corner, I think that it’s a window and there’s light shining through. It’s been a while since I’ve seen light shining onto or through anything. Not to say that we haven’t had clear days, I’ve seen a decent amount of blue sky recently. But the sun doesn’t really seem to shine; it’s just there.
So testing went fine, and the interview was easier than I expected. The Russian-only rule, while daunting at first, isn’t that big of a deal because it only applies to in-class and official group outings. But at the same time, since there are so many different levels of Russian students, it’s often easier to just use English.
So I had my first classes today, Grammar and Conversation. The Grammar teacher is nice but intimidating. I’m sure everyone’s had a teacher like her; she’s very easy going and willing to joke with everyone but at the same time she knows her stuff and if you’re wrong she’s going to tell you you’re wrong. Conversation was fun, as well. However, I have made my first classic Sally mistake of Russia.
On Monday, I took my laptop in my backpack to school because I intended on going to the internet café after lunch. Of course, I ended up not needing it and feeling like a moron for lugging around all the extra weight. So today, I just took a purse and a notebook. I had to carry the notebook kind of awkwardly, of course, because I’m me. So after lunch, a couple of us decide to go to the ex-pat haunt CitiBar because they have free WiFi (With purchase of food or drink). Of course, this would be a great time to have my laptop, because only 2 out of the 5 of us who went had laptops with them and then we had to pass them around the table so everyone could check email. Hillary saw me on the way there fumbling around with my one notebook, so she offered to put it in her backpack. This was very nice of her. So I put my notebook in her bag.
Of course, it’s still there, now that it’s nearly 10 o’clock. Of course, my very first homework assignment in Russia is in that notebook. Of course, I don’t have Hillary’s number, only Matt’s and Hannah’s. And Matt and Hannah do not have Hillary’s number. So we’ll see how this shakes out.
I bought a phonecard yesterday and called home about an hour ago. Dad was at a meeting, but Mom and I had a nice chat. The phonecard was super cheap, so I’m hoping this becomes a regular activity. Sometimes it’s nice to be able to discuss IU basketball and the Colts with someone who cares. You try explaining American Football to a Russian babushka. Or wireless internet. Or a woman working at a stone quarry. And try to explain it in Russian.
I just took a shower, so I’m writing this while I’m letting my hair dry. The water in the shower was not exactly what you’d call “hot.” However, Marina pointed out to me that it’s hotter later at night (when more gas is available), so I could take one later. I preferred to get it out of the way and deal with the consequences. The consequences were that I took, at best, a lukewarm shower and then stepped out into a cold bathroom. Oh well. I’m rolling with the punches.
Speaking of rolling with the punches, anyone familiar with my eating habits would marvel at some of the things I’ve been consuming lately. I told Mom this, and made her guess what I’ve been eating lately. Her first guess: Cabbage. Yes, cabbage. My old enemy. I’m still not sure that it entirely agrees with my constitution, but I have been consuming lots of cabbage. And borscht, which is surprising because I hate beets. Marina continues to be befuddled by the fact that I won’t have tea. Every morning she prepares me a coffeepot of water (She has to boil it first so I won’t get sick), and I drink that at breakfast and dinner and at breakfast I also have a small glass of milk. Whole milk. Again, not really my style. But I’m adapting! Studying abroad is all about stepping out of your comfort zone, right? Well, beets, cabbage, and whole milk are honestly pretty far out of my comfort zone. I’ve also started just eating things without wondering or caring what they are or what’s in them. This could possibly be dangerous in the future, but I figure at some point I’m going to hit the limits of Marina’s dinner repertoire and I’ll be okay.
At dinner tonight, as she continues to look for another beverage option for me (for reasons unknown), she offered me something…nasty. I’m going to have to find out the name. It looks like milk, but oh, it is not milk. Imagine cottage cheese. Imagine the milky part that’s always just hanging around cottage cheese. Imagine a glass full of this, but thicker. And also maybe some chunks in there. This is what Marina set in front of me at dinner while I was eating my chicken and rice (which was very tasty, but there was too much rice, and it’s the first time I haven’t finished a meal I’ve been given). Continuing my “out of the comfort zone” philosophy, I didn’t hesitate, I took a big gulp of it. Yeah, it was rough. Then Marina, seeing my distress, explained that sometimes she’ll put sugar in it. So then she takes a spoonful of sugar and puts it in the glass and stirs it up. I valiantly tried it again. It tasted just like before, but with pieces of sugar in it. When I told her I couldn’t finish it, she said, “It’s okay, I love it, I will finish it.” And right now, she’s in the other room, watching another one of her soap operas and drinking it. Blech.
I’m also trying to live for the moment culture-wise. Today, 6 of us bought tickets to the Mussorgsky Opera’s performance of Evgeny Onegin on February 2nd. I figure I have to get AT LEAST one opera and one ballet in while I’m here. Other people bought tickets for Romeo and Juliet. I saw that Carmen was also on the calendar, along with Boris Gudunov. I don’t know how many people I can convince to go to Boris Gudunov with me.
On a more American culture note, I’m about halfway through the only book in English that I brought. After discussing it with some of the other students, we’ve discussed the possibility of having a big English book-swap in a couple of weeks when everyone’s finished what they’ve brought. We’ll see how that goes down. As Hannah pointed out, she could give someone her Faulkner and end up with a Harlequin novel in return. But hey, “out of the comfort zone,” right?
I’m going to finish drying my hair and read a bit before bed. Maybe, just MAYBE I’ll actually post this tomorrow.
There’s this place, after you get off at Petrogradskaya Metro and turn left to cross under the street, where there’s a magazine stand. The stand has rectangular lights on both sides and down the middle. The lights simply cannot be traditional bulbs; the light that they produce is far too natural looking. I swear to God, every time I round that corner, I think that it’s a window and there’s light shining through. It’s been a while since I’ve seen light shining onto or through anything. Not to say that we haven’t had clear days, I’ve seen a decent amount of blue sky recently. But the sun doesn’t really seem to shine; it’s just there.
So testing went fine, and the interview was easier than I expected. The Russian-only rule, while daunting at first, isn’t that big of a deal because it only applies to in-class and official group outings. But at the same time, since there are so many different levels of Russian students, it’s often easier to just use English.
So I had my first classes today, Grammar and Conversation. The Grammar teacher is nice but intimidating. I’m sure everyone’s had a teacher like her; she’s very easy going and willing to joke with everyone but at the same time she knows her stuff and if you’re wrong she’s going to tell you you’re wrong. Conversation was fun, as well. However, I have made my first classic Sally mistake of Russia.
On Monday, I took my laptop in my backpack to school because I intended on going to the internet café after lunch. Of course, I ended up not needing it and feeling like a moron for lugging around all the extra weight. So today, I just took a purse and a notebook. I had to carry the notebook kind of awkwardly, of course, because I’m me. So after lunch, a couple of us decide to go to the ex-pat haunt CitiBar because they have free WiFi (With purchase of food or drink). Of course, this would be a great time to have my laptop, because only 2 out of the 5 of us who went had laptops with them and then we had to pass them around the table so everyone could check email. Hillary saw me on the way there fumbling around with my one notebook, so she offered to put it in her backpack. This was very nice of her. So I put my notebook in her bag.
Of course, it’s still there, now that it’s nearly 10 o’clock. Of course, my very first homework assignment in Russia is in that notebook. Of course, I don’t have Hillary’s number, only Matt’s and Hannah’s. And Matt and Hannah do not have Hillary’s number. So we’ll see how this shakes out.
I bought a phonecard yesterday and called home about an hour ago. Dad was at a meeting, but Mom and I had a nice chat. The phonecard was super cheap, so I’m hoping this becomes a regular activity. Sometimes it’s nice to be able to discuss IU basketball and the Colts with someone who cares. You try explaining American Football to a Russian babushka. Or wireless internet. Or a woman working at a stone quarry. And try to explain it in Russian.
I just took a shower, so I’m writing this while I’m letting my hair dry. The water in the shower was not exactly what you’d call “hot.” However, Marina pointed out to me that it’s hotter later at night (when more gas is available), so I could take one later. I preferred to get it out of the way and deal with the consequences. The consequences were that I took, at best, a lukewarm shower and then stepped out into a cold bathroom. Oh well. I’m rolling with the punches.
Speaking of rolling with the punches, anyone familiar with my eating habits would marvel at some of the things I’ve been consuming lately. I told Mom this, and made her guess what I’ve been eating lately. Her first guess: Cabbage. Yes, cabbage. My old enemy. I’m still not sure that it entirely agrees with my constitution, but I have been consuming lots of cabbage. And borscht, which is surprising because I hate beets. Marina continues to be befuddled by the fact that I won’t have tea. Every morning she prepares me a coffeepot of water (She has to boil it first so I won’t get sick), and I drink that at breakfast and dinner and at breakfast I also have a small glass of milk. Whole milk. Again, not really my style. But I’m adapting! Studying abroad is all about stepping out of your comfort zone, right? Well, beets, cabbage, and whole milk are honestly pretty far out of my comfort zone. I’ve also started just eating things without wondering or caring what they are or what’s in them. This could possibly be dangerous in the future, but I figure at some point I’m going to hit the limits of Marina’s dinner repertoire and I’ll be okay.
At dinner tonight, as she continues to look for another beverage option for me (for reasons unknown), she offered me something…nasty. I’m going to have to find out the name. It looks like milk, but oh, it is not milk. Imagine cottage cheese. Imagine the milky part that’s always just hanging around cottage cheese. Imagine a glass full of this, but thicker. And also maybe some chunks in there. This is what Marina set in front of me at dinner while I was eating my chicken and rice (which was very tasty, but there was too much rice, and it’s the first time I haven’t finished a meal I’ve been given). Continuing my “out of the comfort zone” philosophy, I didn’t hesitate, I took a big gulp of it. Yeah, it was rough. Then Marina, seeing my distress, explained that sometimes she’ll put sugar in it. So then she takes a spoonful of sugar and puts it in the glass and stirs it up. I valiantly tried it again. It tasted just like before, but with pieces of sugar in it. When I told her I couldn’t finish it, she said, “It’s okay, I love it, I will finish it.” And right now, she’s in the other room, watching another one of her soap operas and drinking it. Blech.
I’m also trying to live for the moment culture-wise. Today, 6 of us bought tickets to the Mussorgsky Opera’s performance of Evgeny Onegin on February 2nd. I figure I have to get AT LEAST one opera and one ballet in while I’m here. Other people bought tickets for Romeo and Juliet. I saw that Carmen was also on the calendar, along with Boris Gudunov. I don’t know how many people I can convince to go to Boris Gudunov with me.
On a more American culture note, I’m about halfway through the only book in English that I brought. After discussing it with some of the other students, we’ve discussed the possibility of having a big English book-swap in a couple of weeks when everyone’s finished what they’ve brought. We’ll see how that goes down. As Hannah pointed out, she could give someone her Faulkner and end up with a Harlequin novel in return. But hey, “out of the comfort zone,” right?
I’m going to finish drying my hair and read a bit before bed. Maybe, just MAYBE I’ll actually post this tomorrow.
1-23-06
Of course, I didn’t go to the café yesterday. Today (the day of writing, not of posting…God, this is confusing) is Tuesday. Yesterday was my first day at Smolny. Okay, you guys, I’m going to classes in pretty much the coolest place ever. Look up a picture of Smolny Cathedral if you don’t believe me. I’m not taking classes in the ACTUAL cathedral, but in one of the same-style buildings surrounding it. It’s all very baroque and sky-blue and is nice on the gloomy winter days we’ve been having.
There’s this place, after you get off at Petrogradskaya Metro and turn left to cross under the street, where there’s a magazine stand. The stand has rectangular lights on both sides and down the middle. The lights simply cannot be traditional bulbs; the light that they produce is far too natural looking. I swear to God, every time I round that corner, I think that it’s a window and there’s light shining through. It’s been a while since I’ve seen light shining onto or through anything. Not to say that we haven’t had clear days, I’ve seen a decent amount of blue sky recently. But the sun doesn’t really seem to shine; it’s just there.
So testing went fine, and the interview was easier than I expected. The Russian-only rule, while daunting at first, isn’t that big of a deal because it only applies to in-class and official group outings. But at the same time, since there are so many different levels of Russian students, it’s often easier to just use English.
So I had my first classes today, Grammar and Conversation. The Grammar teacher is nice but intimidating. I’m sure everyone’s had a teacher like her; she’s very easy going and willing to joke with everyone but at the same time she knows her stuff and if you’re wrong she’s going to tell you you’re wrong. Conversation was fun, as well. However, I have made my first classic Sally mistake of Russia.
On Monday, I took my laptop in my backpack to school because I intended on going to the internet café after lunch. Of course, I ended up not needing it and feeling like a moron for lugging around all the extra weight. So today, I just took a purse and a notebook. I had to carry the notebook kind of awkwardly, of course, because I’m me. So after lunch, a couple of us decide to go to the ex-pat haunt CitiBar because they have free WiFi (With purchase of food or drink). Of course, this would be a great time to have my laptop, because only 2 out of the 5 of us who went had laptops with them and then we had to pass them around the table so everyone could check email. Hillary saw me on the way there fumbling around with my one notebook, so she offered to put it in her backpack. This was very nice of her. So I put my notebook in her bag.
Of course, it’s still there, now that it’s nearly 10 o’clock. Of course, my very first homework assignment in Russia is in that notebook. Of course, I don’t have Hillary’s number, only Matt’s and Hannah’s. And Matt and Hannah do not have Hillary’s number. So we’ll see how this shakes out.
I bought a phonecard yesterday and called home about an hour ago. Dad was at a meeting, but Mom and I had a nice chat. The phonecard was super cheap, so I’m hoping this becomes a regular activity. Sometimes it’s nice to be able to discuss IU basketball and the Colts with someone who cares. You try explaining American Football to a Russian babushka. Or wireless internet. Or a woman working at a stone quarry. And try to explain it in Russian.
I just took a shower, so I’m writing this while I’m letting my hair dry. The water in the shower was not exactly what you’d call “hot.” However, Marina pointed out to me that it’s hotter later at night (when more gas is available), so I could take one later. I preferred to get it out of the way and deal with the consequences. The consequences were that I took, at best, a lukewarm shower and then stepped out into a cold bathroom. Oh well. I’m rolling with the punches.
Speaking of rolling with the punches, anyone familiar with my eating habits would marvel at some of the things I’ve been consuming lately. I told Mom this, and made her guess what I’ve been eating lately. Her first guess: Cabbage. Yes, cabbage. My old enemy. I’m still not sure that it entirely agrees with my constitution, but I have been consuming lots of cabbage. And borscht, which is surprising because I hate beets. Marina continues to be befuddled by the fact that I won’t have tea. Every morning she prepares me a coffeepot of water (She has to boil it first so I won’t get sick), and I drink that at breakfast and dinner and at breakfast I also have a small glass of milk. Whole milk. Again, not really my style. But I’m adapting! Studying abroad is all about stepping out of your comfort zone, right? Well, beets, cabbage, and whole milk are honestly pretty far out of my comfort zone. I’ve also started just eating things without wondering or caring what they are or what’s in them. This could possibly be dangerous in the future, but I figure at some point I’m going to hit the limits of Marina’s dinner repertoire and I’ll be okay.
At dinner tonight, as she continues to look for another beverage option for me (for reasons unknown), she offered me something…nasty. I’m going to have to find out the name. It looks like milk, but oh, it is not milk. Imagine cottage cheese. Imagine the milky part that’s always just hanging around cottage cheese. Imagine a glass full of this, but thicker. And also maybe some chunks in there. This is what Marina set in front of me at dinner while I was eating my chicken and rice (which was very tasty, but there was too much rice, and it’s the first time I haven’t finished a meal I’ve been given). Continuing my “out of the comfort zone” philosophy, I didn’t hesitate, I took a big gulp of it. Yeah, it was rough. Then Marina, seeing my distress, explained that sometimes she’ll put sugar in it. So then she takes a spoonful of sugar and puts it in the glass and stirs it up. I valiantly tried it again. It tasted just like before, but with pieces of sugar in it. When I told her I couldn’t finish it, she said, “It’s okay, I love it, I will finish it.” And right now, she’s in the other room, watching another one of her soap operas and drinking it. Blech.
I’m also trying to live for the moment culture-wise. Today, 6 of us bought tickets to the Mussorgsky Opera’s performance of Evgeny Onegin on February 2nd. I figure I have to get AT LEAST one opera and one ballet in while I’m here. Other people bought tickets for Romeo and Juliet. I saw that Carmen was also on the calendar, along with Boris Gudunov. I don’t know how many people I can convince to go to Boris Gudunov with me.
On a more American culture note, I’m about halfway through the only book in English that I brought. After discussing it with some of the other students, we’ve discussed the possibility of having a big English book-swap in a couple of weeks when everyone’s finished what they’ve brought. We’ll see how that goes down. As Hannah pointed out, she could give someone her Faulkner and end up with a Harlequin novel in return. But hey, “out of the comfort zone,” right?
I’m going to finish drying my hair and read a bit before bed. Maybe, just MAYBE I’ll actually post this tomorrow.
There’s this place, after you get off at Petrogradskaya Metro and turn left to cross under the street, where there’s a magazine stand. The stand has rectangular lights on both sides and down the middle. The lights simply cannot be traditional bulbs; the light that they produce is far too natural looking. I swear to God, every time I round that corner, I think that it’s a window and there’s light shining through. It’s been a while since I’ve seen light shining onto or through anything. Not to say that we haven’t had clear days, I’ve seen a decent amount of blue sky recently. But the sun doesn’t really seem to shine; it’s just there.
So testing went fine, and the interview was easier than I expected. The Russian-only rule, while daunting at first, isn’t that big of a deal because it only applies to in-class and official group outings. But at the same time, since there are so many different levels of Russian students, it’s often easier to just use English.
So I had my first classes today, Grammar and Conversation. The Grammar teacher is nice but intimidating. I’m sure everyone’s had a teacher like her; she’s very easy going and willing to joke with everyone but at the same time she knows her stuff and if you’re wrong she’s going to tell you you’re wrong. Conversation was fun, as well. However, I have made my first classic Sally mistake of Russia.
On Monday, I took my laptop in my backpack to school because I intended on going to the internet café after lunch. Of course, I ended up not needing it and feeling like a moron for lugging around all the extra weight. So today, I just took a purse and a notebook. I had to carry the notebook kind of awkwardly, of course, because I’m me. So after lunch, a couple of us decide to go to the ex-pat haunt CitiBar because they have free WiFi (With purchase of food or drink). Of course, this would be a great time to have my laptop, because only 2 out of the 5 of us who went had laptops with them and then we had to pass them around the table so everyone could check email. Hillary saw me on the way there fumbling around with my one notebook, so she offered to put it in her backpack. This was very nice of her. So I put my notebook in her bag.
Of course, it’s still there, now that it’s nearly 10 o’clock. Of course, my very first homework assignment in Russia is in that notebook. Of course, I don’t have Hillary’s number, only Matt’s and Hannah’s. And Matt and Hannah do not have Hillary’s number. So we’ll see how this shakes out.
I bought a phonecard yesterday and called home about an hour ago. Dad was at a meeting, but Mom and I had a nice chat. The phonecard was super cheap, so I’m hoping this becomes a regular activity. Sometimes it’s nice to be able to discuss IU basketball and the Colts with someone who cares. You try explaining American Football to a Russian babushka. Or wireless internet. Or a woman working at a stone quarry. And try to explain it in Russian.
I just took a shower, so I’m writing this while I’m letting my hair dry. The water in the shower was not exactly what you’d call “hot.” However, Marina pointed out to me that it’s hotter later at night (when more gas is available), so I could take one later. I preferred to get it out of the way and deal with the consequences. The consequences were that I took, at best, a lukewarm shower and then stepped out into a cold bathroom. Oh well. I’m rolling with the punches.
Speaking of rolling with the punches, anyone familiar with my eating habits would marvel at some of the things I’ve been consuming lately. I told Mom this, and made her guess what I’ve been eating lately. Her first guess: Cabbage. Yes, cabbage. My old enemy. I’m still not sure that it entirely agrees with my constitution, but I have been consuming lots of cabbage. And borscht, which is surprising because I hate beets. Marina continues to be befuddled by the fact that I won’t have tea. Every morning she prepares me a coffeepot of water (She has to boil it first so I won’t get sick), and I drink that at breakfast and dinner and at breakfast I also have a small glass of milk. Whole milk. Again, not really my style. But I’m adapting! Studying abroad is all about stepping out of your comfort zone, right? Well, beets, cabbage, and whole milk are honestly pretty far out of my comfort zone. I’ve also started just eating things without wondering or caring what they are or what’s in them. This could possibly be dangerous in the future, but I figure at some point I’m going to hit the limits of Marina’s dinner repertoire and I’ll be okay.
At dinner tonight, as she continues to look for another beverage option for me (for reasons unknown), she offered me something…nasty. I’m going to have to find out the name. It looks like milk, but oh, it is not milk. Imagine cottage cheese. Imagine the milky part that’s always just hanging around cottage cheese. Imagine a glass full of this, but thicker. And also maybe some chunks in there. This is what Marina set in front of me at dinner while I was eating my chicken and rice (which was very tasty, but there was too much rice, and it’s the first time I haven’t finished a meal I’ve been given). Continuing my “out of the comfort zone” philosophy, I didn’t hesitate, I took a big gulp of it. Yeah, it was rough. Then Marina, seeing my distress, explained that sometimes she’ll put sugar in it. So then she takes a spoonful of sugar and puts it in the glass and stirs it up. I valiantly tried it again. It tasted just like before, but with pieces of sugar in it. When I told her I couldn’t finish it, she said, “It’s okay, I love it, I will finish it.” And right now, she’s in the other room, watching another one of her soap operas and drinking it. Blech.
I’m also trying to live for the moment culture-wise. Today, 6 of us bought tickets to the Mussorgsky Opera’s performance of Evgeny Onegin on February 2nd. I figure I have to get AT LEAST one opera and one ballet in while I’m here. Other people bought tickets for Romeo and Juliet. I saw that Carmen was also on the calendar, along with Boris Gudunov. I don’t know how many people I can convince to go to Boris Gudunov with me.
On a more American culture note, I’m about halfway through the only book in English that I brought. After discussing it with some of the other students, we’ve discussed the possibility of having a big English book-swap in a couple of weeks when everyone’s finished what they’ve brought. We’ll see how that goes down. As Hannah pointed out, she could give someone her Faulkner and end up with a Harlequin novel in return. But hey, “out of the comfort zone,” right?
I’m going to finish drying my hair and read a bit before bed. Maybe, just MAYBE I’ll actually post this tomorrow.
1-21-06
I’m back. I just returned from actually posting my last post at the café with WiFi. I didn’t really have the opportunity to make a new post there, as Marina accompanied me to the café and was just sitting across from me reading a newspaper. It was kind of awkward. You see, the café is a little over a block away from our apartment. So I didn’t really need any help finding it. But she seems to be unsure about letting me just leave on my own. Add to that the fact that she has yet to give me an actual key to our apartment (Though I do know the code to get into the building) and I’m less independent than I’d like to be. I suppose it makes sense for now, I know she has a key for me because she keeps telling me that she’s going to show me how to use it. Once I have that, I think she’ll be okay with me leaving on my own. The neighborhood is safe and the Metro is super super close.
Tomorrow she’s going to see me off to school. This is kind of embarrassing but I’ll get over it. Plus, everyone’s host mothers will likely be accompanying them on the first day. Anyway, I’ll be taking the bus to the campus at Smolny. Campus=Smolny because the Smolny Cathedral is at the center of our facilities. Once there, I’ll have placement tests for 2 1/2 hours, then lunch. Then I’ll go get a cheap used phone and new SIM card. Then I will be even more connected! It’s a nice feeling, I’ll admit. I’ve gotten so used to just thinking computer=internet, that it’s kind of a little shock every time I turn this thing on and think, “Oh, I’ll check the weather for tomorrow,” or, “Wonder if anyone’s responded to my email?” The latter is especially frustrating because the email I precomposed to Elyse and Julia in Word didn’t get sent til, like, an hour ago, so there’s no possible way that they could’ve responded because it never left my computer. Yeah, I think I will be frequenting that café often. That’s probably where I’ll post this tomorrow after the phone purchase.
The scariest thing about tomorrow morning is that the all-Russian rule takes effect. Eek! I suppose by the time I’m posting this I’ll have survived my first day, so maybe when I’m at the café I’ll write a short post about how testing and all that went. This is such a weird way to communicate, but prewriting these things really helps me get my thoughts out while they’re still fresh, plus it gives me something to do, as I’m not really interested in the Russian soap operas Marina likes.
Speaking of Marina, she told me that last night she was going to take me for a walk just to see the neighborhood. This little walk around the neighborhood was nothing of the sort. In fact, we walked all the way down to Peter and Paul Fortress on the Neva. If you have a map of St. Petersburg handy (you know you do), look at Petrogradskaya Island, probably called “Petrograd Side” in an American map, and look for the place where the two main roads (One going north-south and one going east-west) intersect (Kamenoostravskaya and Bolshoi, respectively). That’s roughly where I am. Now look to the south for Peter and Paul Fortress. Yeah, it’s half the island.
But it’s great to look across the river, with its chunks of ice slowly floating by in the dark, over to the city, all lit up. You can see the Hermitage and the Admiralty and the Church on Spilt Blood. It was nice. Then I slept through the night for the first time since I got here.
Woke up, had a nice shower, and a filling breakfast. Marina’s really making sure I eat enough. We went together on the Metro over to the other island, Vasilevsky and met with everyone else. Actually, first we met with Claire and her host mother (or her host family’s housekeeper). Turns out, Claire and I actually live really close so they had us exchange numbers, and arranged for us to meet at the bus stop tomorrow.
The bus tour took us past all the big sights of the city. I had forgotten my camera, but it really wasn’t too big of a deal, because these are all things I’ll visit again. It’s really cold, though. After that, we went for our HIV tests. I’ve had a lot of blood drawn in my time, and I must say this was probably the best I’ve ever had! I honestly didn’t feel the needle go in or out. After that, we all went to get blini. Blini are kind of like pancakes that can be either savory or sweet, depending on what filling you choose to have the pancake fold over. I chose ham and cheese, because at this point it was like 2 and I was hungry. After that, a bunch of people went to get phones, but since I didn’t have the rubles and had forgotten my ATM card, she and I just wandered around a bookstore for a bit and then met up with everyone else while they were all exchanging numbers.
Since Andrey, Claire, and I all live close, we took the metro back together, which was nice. Then I had pelmeni with Marina and asked her about the internet café her host daughter went to last semester. The way she was speaking about it made it seem like it was a more traditional internet café that had public computers. So I tried to explain the concept of wireless internet to her in Russian. Yeah, that was tough. But she says she’ll take me, and at that point, I’m just like, “Whatever, I’ll go, I should really email home.” Of course, then she takes me to the café I had seen with Claire that’s two blocks away and has WiFi. I’m definitely going to be spending lots of time there, although it’s a little smoky sometimes.
I should probably think about going to bed now. First, though, I’m going to lay out all of the things I plan on taking tomorrow in my backpack: Laptop (So I can go to the café right after school without Marina being there), Wallet, Pocket Dictionary, Pencils, Charmin-to-go.
Tomorrow she’s going to see me off to school. This is kind of embarrassing but I’ll get over it. Plus, everyone’s host mothers will likely be accompanying them on the first day. Anyway, I’ll be taking the bus to the campus at Smolny. Campus=Smolny because the Smolny Cathedral is at the center of our facilities. Once there, I’ll have placement tests for 2 1/2 hours, then lunch. Then I’ll go get a cheap used phone and new SIM card. Then I will be even more connected! It’s a nice feeling, I’ll admit. I’ve gotten so used to just thinking computer=internet, that it’s kind of a little shock every time I turn this thing on and think, “Oh, I’ll check the weather for tomorrow,” or, “Wonder if anyone’s responded to my email?” The latter is especially frustrating because the email I precomposed to Elyse and Julia in Word didn’t get sent til, like, an hour ago, so there’s no possible way that they could’ve responded because it never left my computer. Yeah, I think I will be frequenting that café often. That’s probably where I’ll post this tomorrow after the phone purchase.
The scariest thing about tomorrow morning is that the all-Russian rule takes effect. Eek! I suppose by the time I’m posting this I’ll have survived my first day, so maybe when I’m at the café I’ll write a short post about how testing and all that went. This is such a weird way to communicate, but prewriting these things really helps me get my thoughts out while they’re still fresh, plus it gives me something to do, as I’m not really interested in the Russian soap operas Marina likes.
Speaking of Marina, she told me that last night she was going to take me for a walk just to see the neighborhood. This little walk around the neighborhood was nothing of the sort. In fact, we walked all the way down to Peter and Paul Fortress on the Neva. If you have a map of St. Petersburg handy (you know you do), look at Petrogradskaya Island, probably called “Petrograd Side” in an American map, and look for the place where the two main roads (One going north-south and one going east-west) intersect (Kamenoostravskaya and Bolshoi, respectively). That’s roughly where I am. Now look to the south for Peter and Paul Fortress. Yeah, it’s half the island.
But it’s great to look across the river, with its chunks of ice slowly floating by in the dark, over to the city, all lit up. You can see the Hermitage and the Admiralty and the Church on Spilt Blood. It was nice. Then I slept through the night for the first time since I got here.
Woke up, had a nice shower, and a filling breakfast. Marina’s really making sure I eat enough. We went together on the Metro over to the other island, Vasilevsky and met with everyone else. Actually, first we met with Claire and her host mother (or her host family’s housekeeper). Turns out, Claire and I actually live really close so they had us exchange numbers, and arranged for us to meet at the bus stop tomorrow.
The bus tour took us past all the big sights of the city. I had forgotten my camera, but it really wasn’t too big of a deal, because these are all things I’ll visit again. It’s really cold, though. After that, we went for our HIV tests. I’ve had a lot of blood drawn in my time, and I must say this was probably the best I’ve ever had! I honestly didn’t feel the needle go in or out. After that, we all went to get blini. Blini are kind of like pancakes that can be either savory or sweet, depending on what filling you choose to have the pancake fold over. I chose ham and cheese, because at this point it was like 2 and I was hungry. After that, a bunch of people went to get phones, but since I didn’t have the rubles and had forgotten my ATM card, she and I just wandered around a bookstore for a bit and then met up with everyone else while they were all exchanging numbers.
Since Andrey, Claire, and I all live close, we took the metro back together, which was nice. Then I had pelmeni with Marina and asked her about the internet café her host daughter went to last semester. The way she was speaking about it made it seem like it was a more traditional internet café that had public computers. So I tried to explain the concept of wireless internet to her in Russian. Yeah, that was tough. But she says she’ll take me, and at that point, I’m just like, “Whatever, I’ll go, I should really email home.” Of course, then she takes me to the café I had seen with Claire that’s two blocks away and has WiFi. I’m definitely going to be spending lots of time there, although it’s a little smoky sometimes.
I should probably think about going to bed now. First, though, I’m going to lay out all of the things I plan on taking tomorrow in my backpack: Laptop (So I can go to the café right after school without Marina being there), Wallet, Pocket Dictionary, Pencils, Charmin-to-go.
Sunday, January 21, 2007
Ridiculously massive post
Okay. I’m in Russia. I’m still alive. I’m sitting on my bed in my new home for the next four months, but I’ll talk more about that later. Because as you know, a lot has happened since my last communication with anyone in the United States. So brace yourselves, people. This is going to be a ridiculously long post.
I didn’t sleep much the night before we left. Of course, some of it was nerves. But some of it was the reheated and odd-tasting broccoli risotto that Mom made for dinner that night. Wednesday morning, I woke up after too little sleep and got ready. It was ridiculous, every little thing I did I was thinking to myself, “This is the last time you’ll do ____ in the United States until MAY.” Stupid things like putting on deodorant or flossing. How important is my last American floss til May, really?
We got to the airport nice and early. Turns out the weight limit is 50 lbs, not 70 lbs, so we had to shift some stuff from one bag to another, but it worked out okay. Said goodbye to Mom and Dad and went through security. Of course, this was sad, and I was trying not to cry. I held it together pretty well, though. At least until I went to the airport restaurant and had to ask for a table for one, and then they put me in the middle of a lot of groups. So I sat there alone and ate my crappy and overpriced salad and tried not to cry. Tragic, I know. Near-breakdown count; 1.
The flight out of Dayton to Dulles was fine. I mean, it’s a flight out of Dayton, so it was a tiny plane. There was a large family on the plane on the way to Brazil. The youngest son (around 18 months) was very unhappy toward the end of the flight. One of the aunts had to talk the ENTIRE TIME to her 7 or 8 year-old nephew about all the things on the plane. Whatever. Maybe I’m just a horrible and bitter person to find such things irritating.
Dulles is Dulles. I had to change terminals, which just meant taking a bus for like 30 seconds and then walking a long way. I had a long layover, so time was not an issue. I sat at the gate for a long time, reading the Premiere magazine I bought in Dayton. Eventually, I got up and tried to call home to let them know I had gotten in okay and that my flight was on time. Unfortunately, the first time I tried to call, there was something wrong with the phone, so I could hear Dad but he couldn’t hear me. For some reason, Dad saying, “Hello? Hello?” really got to me. Near-breakdown count: 2.
So then it was British Airways from one capital to another—London. The flight was incredibly empty. Each row in coach contained 10 seats. There were three people in my row: One on one side, and me and another woman in my little three-seat section. Since I had the window, the other woman wisely moved to the middle so she could have a section all to herself. This meant that later on I actually got some sleep because I could lie down. The food smelled better than it was, I ate it too fast, and it drove me absolutely insane that airplane pillows and blankets seemed designed to create as much static electricity as possible.
The hurricane-force winds that rattled London provided us with a super swift tailwind and we got in 45 minutes early. We only had to wait for a gate to be open for maybe 15 minutes, so we totally lucked out. Heathrow is Heathrow, which is unlike Dulles…which is Dulles. Heathrow is a gigantic mass of people, a total slice of humanity. I tried to make my way through this charming slice of humanity as quickly as possible, so I could get through security again and to Terminal 1 to sit down and maybe have a bite to eat.
Terminal 1 is like a mall, with a few hallways leading to gates. As tempting as it was to start shopping for duty free shoes or electronics, I was just thirsty and in desperate need of caffeine. Despite the fact that I could lay down on the flight from the US, I still only got about 2-3 hours of sleep (Not bad for a 6 hour flight). So I bought myself a Coke and a bag of chips that turned out to be very disappointing. I found myself a seat and sat facing the entrance. You see, I knew at least 6 other people on this program were going to be on my flight to St. Petersburg that left at 9:45. Since I had gotten in early and already had a long layover, I figured there was little chance I’d see anyone for a while. But lo and behold, before I had finished my Coke, who do I see but Katie! (Katie and I have had a ton of Russian classes together at IU, she was on the same program in the fall and decided to continue on into spring.) We sat down and talked for a while, and soon Jessica, who was also on the all-year program and recognized Katie, joined us. Not long after that, Hannah approached us on a whim and asked if we were going to St. Petersburg. And again, not long after that, Claire approached us and said, “Hi, I’m already Facebook friends with all of you.” (It’s true.)
So the five of us sat and talked for a while, quizzing Katie and Jessica about what to expect and the like. Our flight ended up being delayed til 10:40, so we had extra time. Eventually, we headed down to the gate, where the other CIEE students were pretty easily spotted. This flight was also nearly empty, so Katie and Hannah sat in my row and other groups sat together around the plane. I was ridiculously tired, but it was nice to talk to people.
Because of those same hurricane-force winds, we arrived in St. Petersburg only 30 minutes after our originally scheduled arrival time of 4:15. Passport control was a breeze and my luggage came through okay (Although a strap on my red bag that Mom had hastily repaired Wednesday morning broke all of the way off). Katie’s, unfortunately, didn’t. And still hasn’t, to my knowledge. Went through customs and met with Jarlath, an assistant coordinator, and Mila, one of our coordinators. They immediately photocopied our passports and migration cards because of some new law that just took effect. We had to wait around for them to finish that and for Katie and Mila to fill out her missing luggage forms, and then we all got onboard a bus.
No one should ever get his or her first impression of a city at night while jetlagged. But alas, this is not the first time it’s happened to me. I stayed awake, looking out the window for as long as I could, but eventually I napped. About two hours after leaving the airport, we arrived in the town of Repino, at the Zarya “resort.” I use “resort” loosely because it’s really more of a sanatorium. Old people go there to get out of the city for a bit and, I don’t know, walk around from the looks of it.
I roomed there with Ruby from Minnesota, ate a terrifying and lukewarm first meal there (We had gotten in so late the staff had gone home, so they just left some for us and a crock-pot. Yum.). Got a chance to call Mom. Of course, there was a long line behind me, but classic Mom style she was very chatty. My original plan was to just say, “Hey, I’m here, I’m fine, I’ll talk to you when I can, love you, bye.” But of course, Mom’s like, “Oh, I heard about the terrible winds in London…” So I tried to keep it short. Of course, the longer I talked to Mom, the more I realized I missed her. Near-breakdown count: 3.
I tried to get a decent night’s sleep. I felt I was entitled to one. I hadn’t had anything close to a full night’s sleep since Monday night, I was running on fumes, I hadn’t eaten enough to have any kind of energy…I should be out like a light. But of course, my body still thinks I’m in Indiana. So while I eventually did get to sleep at about 11, I then woke up at 2 and 5 for a long time.
Next morning (Friday), kasha for breakfast and hot water. Yum. We did orientation sessions all day Friday, alternating between learning really important things (How to tell the marshrutka driver to stop, how to hail a gypsy cab) and having the crap scared out of us (“These are all the horrible things that have happened to students before when they didn’t listen to us…so listen to us.”). I now know things such as: Never get in a gypsy cab when there’s more than one person in it, never give a kopek to a gypsy, don’t stay out too late in the spring (the drawbridges will go up and if you live on an island, like me, there’s no way for you to get back home because the Metro closes at 12), etc. etc.
Friday night a bunch of us played cards and the Russian Language Program students had to take an oral exam on tape with Nathan, the other coordinator. I was…very tired. Hopefully I did okay. I got the situation card where I had to call the front desk of my hotel and tell them my shower was leaking, that I needed more towels, and that I wanted a wake-up call at 6:30. Of course, I didn’t know the word for leaking, forgot the word for towels (I ended up saying “big napkins”), and said 7:30 instead of 6:30. Yeah, we’ll see how that turns out.
After that, there was allegedly a “diskoteka,” but Mattison, Ruby, and I wandered over to the building it was supposed to be in and found the room where it was going to be held…but the girl at the stereo system was on her phone not playing any music, the lights were all on, and the old man who had showed us where to go kept saying, “Dance! Dance!” We instead went down to the kafe, got drinks and sat down. This gave us a great vantage point as other people from the program wandered in looking for the diskoteka. Eventually everyone joined us in the kafe. Ruby and I, in the hopes of getting a good night’s sleep, left about 10:30-11ish. Of course, I had a horrible time falling asleep, and then woke up in the middle of the night.
So Saturday morning rolls around, we have some eggs and porridge for breakfast. Had I not let my porridge sit while I ate my eggs, its consistency probably would’ve been better. After breakfast, we had more sessions on transportation, including a few individual consultations about what is the best way to get from where each person lived to school. There was then a role-play showing us once again how to hail and negotiate with a gypsy cab and how to behave when the police confront you and ask for your documents (Short answer: Pretend you don’t know Russian, and then pretend to call the consulate. 99% of the time, they’re just looking for a bribe).
I suppose I could now take a moment to explain “gypsy cabs.” Of course, I have yet to hail one. That first attempt comes Monday. Basically, they’re not real taxis. They’re just regular guys who either make a living or supplement their income driving around the city taking people places. I say they’re not real cabs because they’re not licensed, not affiliated with any company, and there’s no meter. Instead, the price is arranged beforehand. So it’s hitchhiking, but with money. Yeah, it’s going to be exciting.
Then we packed up the rest of our stuff and had lunch (Borscht, crab salad, and some kind of beef(?)). Then it got depressing. We were separated and broken up into smaller groups. My group of five (Andrey, Claire, Becky, Hillary, and I) was all in a van together going to Petrogradskaya Island. Which, surprise, is where I am now. We were all pretty terrified and felt like orphans or refugees, especially because our van was the first to leave Repino, so we got to see everyone else standing inside and we drove off into the distance.
Andrey was dropped off first, at a nice looking building with a courtyard. I was next. I am living on ìÎËÁˆ‡ ÅÓθ¯‡fl, literally “Big Street,” in what Katie described as the “chic” neighborhood. Bolshaya is one of the two main drags on the island, and I’m a block and a half away from where it intersects with the other main drag, Kamennoostrovsky Prospekt. There are lots of posh stores and theatres and galleries around here, plus it’s really safe. So I couldn’t be happier with the neighborhood. I’m living with Marina Zenovevna. She’s a babushka who lives alone and has hosted many an American student. Also, she speaks a tiny bit more English than I speak Russian, so we’ve been able to communication pretty effectively.
I am now in my room, sitting at my desk. I’ve got a comfy-looking (but probably isn’t, I wouldn’t know, my backpack is there now and I haven’t sat in it yet) chair, a bed, and a shkaf (large cabinet). The apartment is probably small by American standards, but it’s got nice high ceilings and molding around my light fixture. The bathroom, probably what I was most terrified about, has recently been redone, with a nice (separate) toilet, and a new shower that’s actually fairly large. We’re on the third floor. I think I’ll be opting for the stairs, as the lift is pretty terrifying. It’s pretty tiny. The driver who dropped us off came in and helped me with my luggage, and we had a good laugh as we tried to squeeze both of my bags, my backpack, him, and myself into it. It’s not an elevator in a closed-off shaft. I don’t really know the best way to describe that. You know the elevator that Dr. Frankenfurter goes down at the beginning of “Sweet Transvestite” in Rocky Horror? It’s like that, but smaller and green, in the middle of the stairway.
Marina is already mystified by the fact that I don’t drink tea, but is happy with the fact that I prefer to eat dinner later. Her daughter-in-law and grandson came over for dinner, and once she finished the dishes, we went for a walk around the neighborhood. She said there’s an internet café close by that the girl she had last semester went to all the time, so I’ll probably post this from there. While I was unpacking my stuff, I had a real moment of, “Oh God, I really need to get comfortable.” Near-breakdown count: 4.
So, dinner was interesting. Sasha’s about my age, although probably more moody. He seemed nice but of course was shy and choosing not to try to speak in his limited English, and I was more than happy to oblige by also staying silent. Mostly I just listened to their conversation, trying to work on my comprehension skills. Conclusion: Russians talk too damn fast.
We began dinner with a cabbage soup. Yes, I ate the whole thing. To those of you who know that I don’t like cabbage, this may come as a surprise. But I’m in Russia, and it’s going to be impossible to avoid it. This was pretty filling as it was, but then came mashed potatoes and sausage. The sausage was good, the mashed potatoes tasted just enough different from Mom’s to make me kind of homesick, and the whole thing filled me up before I was even half finished with the plate. But I must be a good houseguest! So I sucked it up and shoveled it down. Then, while everyone else had tea (Marina offered it to me twice. When she told her daughter-in-law, “Sara doesn’t drink tea,” her daughter-in-law said, “What do you mean, she doesn’t drink tea?” I think Marina thinks she’s going to convert me.) I had an orange. My second whole orange of the day. Well, guess this means I won’t get scurvy!
Tomorrow, Marina is escorting me to Kapitanskaya Station, where I will be meeting the rest of the CIEE folk (Haha, Marina’s cell just rang, the ringtone is hilarious) and we’ll board a bus to take a bus tour of the city. After that, it’s either HIV tests or pancakes!
Monday Morning, Marina will help me get to school (either by Metro or marshrutka), and we take a bunch of placement tests. It’s at this point that the Russian only rule comes into effect. It is also at this point that I suddenly become a very quiet person. You see, I’ve signed a contract saying that I can’t speak English when in classes, on official group trips, or at official group gatherings. I say “official” because if I just meet up with some people after classes, we’re okay to speak English. This is nice because some of the people on the Area Studies Program (As opposed to the Russian Language Program) know very little Russian. Like my roommate from Zarya, Ruby. Ruby knows absolutely no Russian. Well, she knows “Hello,” “Bye!”, and “dog.” But were I not allowed to speak English in informal situations, then I would never be able to speak to Ruby again. I asked Katie how hard it was to go to classes that were all in Russian, but she said that your comprehension picks up pretty quickly, and no one expects you to take notes in Russian.
After that, there’s a group excursion to all buy Russian cell phones. Once that happens, I will once again have the opportunity for a social life. The rest of the week we have classes in the morning, and little trips to see or do things in the afternoon. Wish me luck.
.....And now I'm posting from a cafe about 200 yards away from my door with WiFi. Awesome. Can't write more now about our walk last night and our bus tour today, but I probably will tomorrow afternoon when Marina's not awkwardly sitting across from me reading a newspaper.
I didn’t sleep much the night before we left. Of course, some of it was nerves. But some of it was the reheated and odd-tasting broccoli risotto that Mom made for dinner that night. Wednesday morning, I woke up after too little sleep and got ready. It was ridiculous, every little thing I did I was thinking to myself, “This is the last time you’ll do ____ in the United States until MAY.” Stupid things like putting on deodorant or flossing. How important is my last American floss til May, really?
We got to the airport nice and early. Turns out the weight limit is 50 lbs, not 70 lbs, so we had to shift some stuff from one bag to another, but it worked out okay. Said goodbye to Mom and Dad and went through security. Of course, this was sad, and I was trying not to cry. I held it together pretty well, though. At least until I went to the airport restaurant and had to ask for a table for one, and then they put me in the middle of a lot of groups. So I sat there alone and ate my crappy and overpriced salad and tried not to cry. Tragic, I know. Near-breakdown count; 1.
The flight out of Dayton to Dulles was fine. I mean, it’s a flight out of Dayton, so it was a tiny plane. There was a large family on the plane on the way to Brazil. The youngest son (around 18 months) was very unhappy toward the end of the flight. One of the aunts had to talk the ENTIRE TIME to her 7 or 8 year-old nephew about all the things on the plane. Whatever. Maybe I’m just a horrible and bitter person to find such things irritating.
Dulles is Dulles. I had to change terminals, which just meant taking a bus for like 30 seconds and then walking a long way. I had a long layover, so time was not an issue. I sat at the gate for a long time, reading the Premiere magazine I bought in Dayton. Eventually, I got up and tried to call home to let them know I had gotten in okay and that my flight was on time. Unfortunately, the first time I tried to call, there was something wrong with the phone, so I could hear Dad but he couldn’t hear me. For some reason, Dad saying, “Hello? Hello?” really got to me. Near-breakdown count: 2.
So then it was British Airways from one capital to another—London. The flight was incredibly empty. Each row in coach contained 10 seats. There were three people in my row: One on one side, and me and another woman in my little three-seat section. Since I had the window, the other woman wisely moved to the middle so she could have a section all to herself. This meant that later on I actually got some sleep because I could lie down. The food smelled better than it was, I ate it too fast, and it drove me absolutely insane that airplane pillows and blankets seemed designed to create as much static electricity as possible.
The hurricane-force winds that rattled London provided us with a super swift tailwind and we got in 45 minutes early. We only had to wait for a gate to be open for maybe 15 minutes, so we totally lucked out. Heathrow is Heathrow, which is unlike Dulles…which is Dulles. Heathrow is a gigantic mass of people, a total slice of humanity. I tried to make my way through this charming slice of humanity as quickly as possible, so I could get through security again and to Terminal 1 to sit down and maybe have a bite to eat.
Terminal 1 is like a mall, with a few hallways leading to gates. As tempting as it was to start shopping for duty free shoes or electronics, I was just thirsty and in desperate need of caffeine. Despite the fact that I could lay down on the flight from the US, I still only got about 2-3 hours of sleep (Not bad for a 6 hour flight). So I bought myself a Coke and a bag of chips that turned out to be very disappointing. I found myself a seat and sat facing the entrance. You see, I knew at least 6 other people on this program were going to be on my flight to St. Petersburg that left at 9:45. Since I had gotten in early and already had a long layover, I figured there was little chance I’d see anyone for a while. But lo and behold, before I had finished my Coke, who do I see but Katie! (Katie and I have had a ton of Russian classes together at IU, she was on the same program in the fall and decided to continue on into spring.) We sat down and talked for a while, and soon Jessica, who was also on the all-year program and recognized Katie, joined us. Not long after that, Hannah approached us on a whim and asked if we were going to St. Petersburg. And again, not long after that, Claire approached us and said, “Hi, I’m already Facebook friends with all of you.” (It’s true.)
So the five of us sat and talked for a while, quizzing Katie and Jessica about what to expect and the like. Our flight ended up being delayed til 10:40, so we had extra time. Eventually, we headed down to the gate, where the other CIEE students were pretty easily spotted. This flight was also nearly empty, so Katie and Hannah sat in my row and other groups sat together around the plane. I was ridiculously tired, but it was nice to talk to people.
Because of those same hurricane-force winds, we arrived in St. Petersburg only 30 minutes after our originally scheduled arrival time of 4:15. Passport control was a breeze and my luggage came through okay (Although a strap on my red bag that Mom had hastily repaired Wednesday morning broke all of the way off). Katie’s, unfortunately, didn’t. And still hasn’t, to my knowledge. Went through customs and met with Jarlath, an assistant coordinator, and Mila, one of our coordinators. They immediately photocopied our passports and migration cards because of some new law that just took effect. We had to wait around for them to finish that and for Katie and Mila to fill out her missing luggage forms, and then we all got onboard a bus.
No one should ever get his or her first impression of a city at night while jetlagged. But alas, this is not the first time it’s happened to me. I stayed awake, looking out the window for as long as I could, but eventually I napped. About two hours after leaving the airport, we arrived in the town of Repino, at the Zarya “resort.” I use “resort” loosely because it’s really more of a sanatorium. Old people go there to get out of the city for a bit and, I don’t know, walk around from the looks of it.
I roomed there with Ruby from Minnesota, ate a terrifying and lukewarm first meal there (We had gotten in so late the staff had gone home, so they just left some for us and a crock-pot. Yum.). Got a chance to call Mom. Of course, there was a long line behind me, but classic Mom style she was very chatty. My original plan was to just say, “Hey, I’m here, I’m fine, I’ll talk to you when I can, love you, bye.” But of course, Mom’s like, “Oh, I heard about the terrible winds in London…” So I tried to keep it short. Of course, the longer I talked to Mom, the more I realized I missed her. Near-breakdown count: 3.
I tried to get a decent night’s sleep. I felt I was entitled to one. I hadn’t had anything close to a full night’s sleep since Monday night, I was running on fumes, I hadn’t eaten enough to have any kind of energy…I should be out like a light. But of course, my body still thinks I’m in Indiana. So while I eventually did get to sleep at about 11, I then woke up at 2 and 5 for a long time.
Next morning (Friday), kasha for breakfast and hot water. Yum. We did orientation sessions all day Friday, alternating between learning really important things (How to tell the marshrutka driver to stop, how to hail a gypsy cab) and having the crap scared out of us (“These are all the horrible things that have happened to students before when they didn’t listen to us…so listen to us.”). I now know things such as: Never get in a gypsy cab when there’s more than one person in it, never give a kopek to a gypsy, don’t stay out too late in the spring (the drawbridges will go up and if you live on an island, like me, there’s no way for you to get back home because the Metro closes at 12), etc. etc.
Friday night a bunch of us played cards and the Russian Language Program students had to take an oral exam on tape with Nathan, the other coordinator. I was…very tired. Hopefully I did okay. I got the situation card where I had to call the front desk of my hotel and tell them my shower was leaking, that I needed more towels, and that I wanted a wake-up call at 6:30. Of course, I didn’t know the word for leaking, forgot the word for towels (I ended up saying “big napkins”), and said 7:30 instead of 6:30. Yeah, we’ll see how that turns out.
After that, there was allegedly a “diskoteka,” but Mattison, Ruby, and I wandered over to the building it was supposed to be in and found the room where it was going to be held…but the girl at the stereo system was on her phone not playing any music, the lights were all on, and the old man who had showed us where to go kept saying, “Dance! Dance!” We instead went down to the kafe, got drinks and sat down. This gave us a great vantage point as other people from the program wandered in looking for the diskoteka. Eventually everyone joined us in the kafe. Ruby and I, in the hopes of getting a good night’s sleep, left about 10:30-11ish. Of course, I had a horrible time falling asleep, and then woke up in the middle of the night.
So Saturday morning rolls around, we have some eggs and porridge for breakfast. Had I not let my porridge sit while I ate my eggs, its consistency probably would’ve been better. After breakfast, we had more sessions on transportation, including a few individual consultations about what is the best way to get from where each person lived to school. There was then a role-play showing us once again how to hail and negotiate with a gypsy cab and how to behave when the police confront you and ask for your documents (Short answer: Pretend you don’t know Russian, and then pretend to call the consulate. 99% of the time, they’re just looking for a bribe).
I suppose I could now take a moment to explain “gypsy cabs.” Of course, I have yet to hail one. That first attempt comes Monday. Basically, they’re not real taxis. They’re just regular guys who either make a living or supplement their income driving around the city taking people places. I say they’re not real cabs because they’re not licensed, not affiliated with any company, and there’s no meter. Instead, the price is arranged beforehand. So it’s hitchhiking, but with money. Yeah, it’s going to be exciting.
Then we packed up the rest of our stuff and had lunch (Borscht, crab salad, and some kind of beef(?)). Then it got depressing. We were separated and broken up into smaller groups. My group of five (Andrey, Claire, Becky, Hillary, and I) was all in a van together going to Petrogradskaya Island. Which, surprise, is where I am now. We were all pretty terrified and felt like orphans or refugees, especially because our van was the first to leave Repino, so we got to see everyone else standing inside and we drove off into the distance.
Andrey was dropped off first, at a nice looking building with a courtyard. I was next. I am living on ìÎËÁˆ‡ ÅÓθ¯‡fl, literally “Big Street,” in what Katie described as the “chic” neighborhood. Bolshaya is one of the two main drags on the island, and I’m a block and a half away from where it intersects with the other main drag, Kamennoostrovsky Prospekt. There are lots of posh stores and theatres and galleries around here, plus it’s really safe. So I couldn’t be happier with the neighborhood. I’m living with Marina Zenovevna. She’s a babushka who lives alone and has hosted many an American student. Also, she speaks a tiny bit more English than I speak Russian, so we’ve been able to communication pretty effectively.
I am now in my room, sitting at my desk. I’ve got a comfy-looking (but probably isn’t, I wouldn’t know, my backpack is there now and I haven’t sat in it yet) chair, a bed, and a shkaf (large cabinet). The apartment is probably small by American standards, but it’s got nice high ceilings and molding around my light fixture. The bathroom, probably what I was most terrified about, has recently been redone, with a nice (separate) toilet, and a new shower that’s actually fairly large. We’re on the third floor. I think I’ll be opting for the stairs, as the lift is pretty terrifying. It’s pretty tiny. The driver who dropped us off came in and helped me with my luggage, and we had a good laugh as we tried to squeeze both of my bags, my backpack, him, and myself into it. It’s not an elevator in a closed-off shaft. I don’t really know the best way to describe that. You know the elevator that Dr. Frankenfurter goes down at the beginning of “Sweet Transvestite” in Rocky Horror? It’s like that, but smaller and green, in the middle of the stairway.
Marina is already mystified by the fact that I don’t drink tea, but is happy with the fact that I prefer to eat dinner later. Her daughter-in-law and grandson came over for dinner, and once she finished the dishes, we went for a walk around the neighborhood. She said there’s an internet café close by that the girl she had last semester went to all the time, so I’ll probably post this from there. While I was unpacking my stuff, I had a real moment of, “Oh God, I really need to get comfortable.” Near-breakdown count: 4.
So, dinner was interesting. Sasha’s about my age, although probably more moody. He seemed nice but of course was shy and choosing not to try to speak in his limited English, and I was more than happy to oblige by also staying silent. Mostly I just listened to their conversation, trying to work on my comprehension skills. Conclusion: Russians talk too damn fast.
We began dinner with a cabbage soup. Yes, I ate the whole thing. To those of you who know that I don’t like cabbage, this may come as a surprise. But I’m in Russia, and it’s going to be impossible to avoid it. This was pretty filling as it was, but then came mashed potatoes and sausage. The sausage was good, the mashed potatoes tasted just enough different from Mom’s to make me kind of homesick, and the whole thing filled me up before I was even half finished with the plate. But I must be a good houseguest! So I sucked it up and shoveled it down. Then, while everyone else had tea (Marina offered it to me twice. When she told her daughter-in-law, “Sara doesn’t drink tea,” her daughter-in-law said, “What do you mean, she doesn’t drink tea?” I think Marina thinks she’s going to convert me.) I had an orange. My second whole orange of the day. Well, guess this means I won’t get scurvy!
Tomorrow, Marina is escorting me to Kapitanskaya Station, where I will be meeting the rest of the CIEE folk (Haha, Marina’s cell just rang, the ringtone is hilarious) and we’ll board a bus to take a bus tour of the city. After that, it’s either HIV tests or pancakes!
Monday Morning, Marina will help me get to school (either by Metro or marshrutka), and we take a bunch of placement tests. It’s at this point that the Russian only rule comes into effect. It is also at this point that I suddenly become a very quiet person. You see, I’ve signed a contract saying that I can’t speak English when in classes, on official group trips, or at official group gatherings. I say “official” because if I just meet up with some people after classes, we’re okay to speak English. This is nice because some of the people on the Area Studies Program (As opposed to the Russian Language Program) know very little Russian. Like my roommate from Zarya, Ruby. Ruby knows absolutely no Russian. Well, she knows “Hello,” “Bye!”, and “dog.” But were I not allowed to speak English in informal situations, then I would never be able to speak to Ruby again. I asked Katie how hard it was to go to classes that were all in Russian, but she said that your comprehension picks up pretty quickly, and no one expects you to take notes in Russian.
After that, there’s a group excursion to all buy Russian cell phones. Once that happens, I will once again have the opportunity for a social life. The rest of the week we have classes in the morning, and little trips to see or do things in the afternoon. Wish me luck.
.....And now I'm posting from a cafe about 200 yards away from my door with WiFi. Awesome. Can't write more now about our walk last night and our bus tour today, but I probably will tomorrow afternoon when Marina's not awkwardly sitting across from me reading a newspaper.
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
Leaving on a Jet Plane
I leave from Dayton tomorrow morning.
Just like the night before any trip anywhere, I'm nervous and excited. Schmeese told me on the phone that I didn't sound excited, and if she were in my place, she'd be going crazy. Trust me, I'm going crazy on the inside. I've got that feeling in my stomach like you get on one of those drop rides at amusement parks. I'm basically at the top (it's taken a while to get here), but tomorrow I begin the long freefall and I have no idea when that'll stop.
Anyone who's lived with me knows that I'm a ridiculous slave to routine. (An aside: Not to say I can't be spontaneous, but I feel that to be truly spontaneous, you have to have some kind of routine from which to deviate.) I get ready the same way every morning, I leave for class at the same time every day right down to the minute, and I prepare for bed the same way every night. I think what I'm most nervous about is that period of freefall where for a while there is no routine and then the awkward period of trying to find what works. Some may say this need for routine borders on psychotic (these would be my roommates). They are entitled to their opinion.
I don't want this to be some kind of nebulous experience. I'd like there to be some kind of routine so that I can say that I lived there. I'm not going to be a tourist and sleep in every day and then wander around the city for a bit. I'm an adult, and I'm going to live as an adult in this new city. I'm looking forward to being part of my host family, whatever shape they take.
Really, I've got far more things to look forward to than to be nervous about. Plus, I get to fly, and that's always fun. I go Dayton-Dulles-Heathrow-St. Petersburg. I have no idea when I'll be able to post again, but hopefully it won't fall by the wayside.
Bon voyage, me.
Just like the night before any trip anywhere, I'm nervous and excited. Schmeese told me on the phone that I didn't sound excited, and if she were in my place, she'd be going crazy. Trust me, I'm going crazy on the inside. I've got that feeling in my stomach like you get on one of those drop rides at amusement parks. I'm basically at the top (it's taken a while to get here), but tomorrow I begin the long freefall and I have no idea when that'll stop.
Anyone who's lived with me knows that I'm a ridiculous slave to routine. (An aside: Not to say I can't be spontaneous, but I feel that to be truly spontaneous, you have to have some kind of routine from which to deviate.) I get ready the same way every morning, I leave for class at the same time every day right down to the minute, and I prepare for bed the same way every night. I think what I'm most nervous about is that period of freefall where for a while there is no routine and then the awkward period of trying to find what works. Some may say this need for routine borders on psychotic (these would be my roommates). They are entitled to their opinion.
I don't want this to be some kind of nebulous experience. I'd like there to be some kind of routine so that I can say that I lived there. I'm not going to be a tourist and sleep in every day and then wander around the city for a bit. I'm an adult, and I'm going to live as an adult in this new city. I'm looking forward to being part of my host family, whatever shape they take.
Really, I've got far more things to look forward to than to be nervous about. Plus, I get to fly, and that's always fun. I go Dayton-Dulles-Heathrow-St. Petersburg. I have no idea when I'll be able to post again, but hopefully it won't fall by the wayside.
Bon voyage, me.
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