2-28-07
Last day of February!
Let’s see, I’ll try to recap everything that’s happened since Saturday night rather quickly. I’m online in Café Max on their WiFi, which is more expensive than Kofe Haus, but you don’t have to buy anything else, because it’s primarily an internet café. So I’ve got 48 minutes left and there’s plenty of other stuff I’d like to do online.
Sunday was spent at the mall with Kate, Becky, Hannah, and Hillary. We enjoyed some tasty Sbarro for lunch and then shopped a bit. I didn’t buy anything. There wasn’t a whole lot I liked, and the things I did like were either too expensive or things that I really didn’t need. I shouldn’t be buying clothes I don’t need here, because everything I buy I then have to figure out how to get back.
I do want to buy a new hat, though. Preferably one with earflaps, because my ears always get cold in this hat. I think I could rock a hat with earflaps, but I really don’t think I have a head made for hats.
That night, Becky and I met up and went to the Lenasoveta Theatre to see Chekhov’s “Three Sisters.” It’s a pretty depressing play, but it was really well done and we had a good time. The downside was that, it’s also a long play, and the seats were really uncomfortable. In addition, this meant that I got home at like 11:30, didn’t fall asleep til 12:30 or 1ish, and woke up at 6:30 the next morning to shower. I was pretty worthless Monday.
Monday night we had an “internship fair” at CityBar. The one group I was only slightly interested in had something come up and couldn’t make it, but to be a good sport a couple of us talked with some of the company representatives who no one was talking to. This including a really awkward conversation with a reporter for the St. Petersburg Times. They need someone to do copy editing, but the whole time I was talking with her I was thinking, “As direly as you guys need better copy editing, I hate your newspaper and read it only because it’s in English, it’s really a piece of crap.” Of course I didn’t say that.
I also talked with an American businessman who reminded me of Mark Cuban but with none of the charm. Yeah, I know, it’s tough to imagine. His company engages in, like, providing data to other companies and something with optic cable factories in Belarus. He was being purposefully vague. He handed me a pretty slick-looking business card, but I was pleased to discover, when looking at it later, that it’s actually a pretty shoddy printing job, as on both sides the next is a few points off of center.
Made the mistake of eating too many brownies at CityBar (Elaine, the crazy owner, had just gotten a recipe for brownies using ingredients that you can actually find in Russia and wanted to see if they really were viable. Answer: Yes), and then got heartburn from a sandwich at KFC, because nothing else was open.
Last night, we had an “Open City” party, attended by some other American students and some Russian students. There were free food and beverages, and lots and lots of awkwardness. Russians believe every party needs some kind of awkward junior-high style icebreaker. Or in this party’s case, 5 of them. Yeah, we still weren’t so much into the mingling. But it was a free dinner.
Monday and Tuesday our Grammar teacher was sick. On Monday we had a very nice lady sub for her and she was very patient with us and actually, you know, taught. On Tuesday our Civilization teacher subbed and basically turned Grammar into Civilization. We didn’t finish a single exercise before she said, “It’s clear you know what you’re doing, let’s take a break from grammar, rest a bit, and talk.” So then she led a discussion about Russian food. It was weird.
At the Open City party, some of the American students from another program told us that there’s free WiFi at Subway. I went there before I came here. There’s WiFi, but it said I needed a password, and it wasn’t working for the other girl I saw there. Knowing my luck, Subway chose today to start making people pay for their WiFi. However, Subway was wonderful. I had a sandwich that wasn’t dripping with grease or fried and it had VEGETABLES. My God, it was heaven. And a cookie. A real cookie. Oh, Subway.
I’ll go ahead and post this now, the people who had an afternoon class today will probably be calling soon.
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
2-24-07
2-24-07
I’m writing this entry laying down on my bed because it hurts to sit. As a great man once said--let me explain, or try to.
Woke up this morning and showered and then, through a series of text messages, debated cross-country skiing today with my traveling companions. The temperature was hovering at about –16, but we decided it was early and it would warm up, so we set off. We went to a place called, in English, “Okhta Park.” Okhta Park is located a marshrutka ride away from the last stop on the red line, Devyatkino. It’s fun to ride the Metro to the last stop on a line, when it’s just you and sleeping bum in your car.
At Devyatkino I met up with Becky and Hannah. It was swarming with people with skis and snowboards, setting off for other ski resorts in the area. We had a very nice marshrutka ride, largely due to a nice driver, and in spite of the slippery, bumpy, terrifying roads. Okhto Park is not only a cross-country skiing park; it also offers downhill, snowboarding, and ice-skating. We rented skis and waited for Kate to arrive. When she did, we suited up.
Well, I should say that with Becky’s help I suited up, because I was like a 5 year-old child at that place. I think it was the fact that I was wearing mittens. I couldn’t keep my boots tied, I could get my skis on, and I couldn’t get the Velcro on my pole straps to stay together. This should have been an indication as to how I would fair during the rest of the afternoon. I think I should make that a life rule: When attempting a new sport, if you can’t put on the gear, give up now.
Despite being 100% flatlander, I had, before today, never cross-country skied. Or downhill skied. Or touched a pair of skis. But somewhere deep inside, before I took my first few shuffling attempts at getting onto the path, I wanted to be really good at it. I think everyone feels something like that when they’re trying a new sport. Everyone wants it to come easy to them; everyone wants their friends to say, “Wow, you’re a natural!” or “Looks like you were born to do it!” Haha, I’d like that to happen just once when trying a new activity. At the very least, it’d be nice to be competent at some kind of winter sporting event. For someone who loves the Winter Olympics as much as I do, I sure wasn’t born to compete in them. Not that I’m born to compete in the Summer Olympics, either. I think I’m just born with the ability to watch the Opening and Closing Ceremonies.
At some point in the future, should I become some kind of Olympic champion in, say, curling (Doubtful—Can’t walk on ice, let alone slide or sweep), maybe I’ll write a book chronicling my attempts at other winter sports before I found my true calling. In this book, the chapter on cross-country skiing will be entitled, “Cross-Country Skiing: Not the Disaster it could have been.”
Perhaps if Okhto Park’s cross-country skiing paths had been in something more akin to a field, which would be flat and upon which I could develop some kind of rhythm, perhaps then I would’ve shown like the skiing diamond I am. Okhto Park’s trails wind through a lovely pine and birch forest. It was quite beautiful in the bright, sunny afternoon light with a nice snow cover. It was not, however, flat. Or anything close to it. When I asked Katie if she wanted to join us, she said that cross-country skiing required too much effort, and in reality it was more like “uphill skiing.” A large portion of what we did today was actually uphill.
This lovely, winding path had quite a few hills, actually. Hills that would be no problem to walk up. Maybe a little slippery, but not too bad. God, it was a disaster. I managed to establish the very, very beginnings of a rhythm when we encountered our first tiny hill. Making it up was a challenge. I just couldn’t maintain my balance. I didn’t fall, I would just wobble, and once I wobbled, I would slide back down the hill. Luckily for everyone involved, I made it up this anthill, only to be confronted on the other side with the startling realization that I would have to go down.
I certainly went down faster than I went up. Too fast. I would panic and become not a skier, but a flailing mix of poles and skis. And keep in mind, dear reader, that this hill would not trouble an old man with a walker. But up until this point, I had not fallen. The hills got bigger. I would take longer to get up them and less time to go back down, but I still hadn’t hit the ground.
That was, until, the hill with the bridge. The bridge was situated in a gully, such that on both sides there were hills that people would be going down on skis, but the bridge itself was only wide enough such that one person could go across at a time. Now, this hill actually was fairly steep. I can’t really provide a reference, but it’s less steep than the hill at the golf course in Portland that we used to sled on, but steeper than the hill outside Wright food court where Julia fell. Haha, I’m the only person that now has any idea of the relative steepness of this hill.
Anyway. Kate, whose mother is a cross-country skiing instructor, took her time and somehow managed to slowly get halfway down the hill before taking the time to line herself up and make it across the bridge. Hannah and Becky make it across as well, although not as easily. Then it’s my turn, because I’m obviously at the back of the line because of my issues getting up the hill in the first place. I think to myself, “Okay, get yourself all nice and lined up like Kate did, this’ll be easy.” As I’m getting myself lined up, I fall. Not a big fall, just kind of sideways. The hard part was getting back up. I would forget that I had skis on, and so I would twist myself into all kinds of positions that, had my feet been their normal lengths, would’ve made it possible to rise. Instead, I just banged my skis together for a while before reaching a standing position.
Then I started heading, too fast and with no control, toward the bridge. Surprisingly, I was all lined up to make it across just fine, but I fell again, right at the edge. So I rather unclimatically shuffled across the bridge and then made the long trip up the next hill.
On this hill, Becky suggested, after I fell after sliding all the way to the bottom, that I attempt going up the hill by turning sideways on the side of the path where there was more snow and stepping up the hill sideways. This worked relatively well. The problem was that my skis were sticking into the forest. So I would bang into trees and get caught in the underbrush and stomp all over saplings. But I made it to the top.
Repeat this process a few more times. Then I got to the largest hill yet, had signaled everyone to go on ahead of me, and while attempting to climb it, had a rather spectacular wipeout. Sitting at the bottom of the hill, struggling to get back up, I had had enough. Don’t get me wrong, it was plenty fun. But I had hit my left knee pretty hard on that last tumble. I did a quick mental calculation and figured that if I turned around at that point, I’d get back to the main lodge at the same time everyone else would after they had gone to the end of the path and circled back. So I set off the other direction.
On one of the hills I took another impressive dive, this time slamming my right knee into the hardened ice and snow. When it came time for the bridge hill again, I steeled myself for the worst. Luckily, there was no one on the other hill who would want me to go before them, so I was able to take my time.
And by take my time, I mean, “Stand at the top of the hill for a second or two, trying to decide if I should just take my skis off and walk back and then shifting my weight and setting off down the hill at a blistering speed.” So yeah. Without meaning to, I had shifted just enough to put my center of gravity in such a position to decide that the bottom of that hill was really the place I needed to be.
I waved my arms, clacked my poles together, but never closed my eyes. Because I never closed my eyes, I can tell you that I crossed the bridge in the dead center of it before having enough momentum to carry myself halfway up the next hill. I’m not sure how this happened. Of course, I fell at the top of this next hill, but whatever. I had my one success.
The rest of the way back went very slowly. I fell a few more times, but also I was just moving really slowly from exhaustion, cold, and pain. Though it’s embarrassing, I’m willing to admit that I got passed by an old woman. Walking. An old woman was walking faster than I was cross-country skiing. You don’t see that happening at the Olympics.
I survived and made it back to the lodge. I had all of my limbs. Unlike my mother’s first attempt at skiing, I did not wind up with a cast anywhere. I had had some successes. I didn’t end up alone and crying somewhere in the middle of the woods with snot all over my mittened hands and my skis somehow on backwards.
Suddenly I’m having a flashback to some time at the Winchester roller-skating rink, I must have been younger than 5, and I was in the big rink for the first time. Roller-skating, that’s something else I can’t do. I was always the kid at the elementary school skating parties who pulled herself along the bar all the way along the wall, all the way around the rink while everyone else skated backwards and did tricks and the like. Anyway, in this memory I had yet to discover that roller-skating would be yet another activity that would prove surprisingly difficult. I was with Mom, but, probably because I fell, we got separated. She was going with the flow and circling back to come get me so she didn’t get hit in the cross traffic. But I remember it feeling like it took half an hour for her to get back. I just remember crying and sitting on the floor and watching people skate past in the purplish glow of the black light. I couldn’t get up, I couldn’t move, everyone around me just passed on by and the person that could help me was nowhere to be found.
Anyway, my point is, that didn’t happen today. You see? It could’ve been much worse!
I met up with everyone back at the lodge and got out of my skis. For the next five minutes I kept tripping because I was walking like I still had skis on. We headed back to Devyatkino, and then back into town for a late lunch and then checking our email at Café Max.
Once I got back here, I ate an unsatisfying and headache-inducing meal of borscht, sausage, and mashed potatoes. I’m really wishing I still had those cookies that I took to the movies the other night. Maybe I’ll go to a supermarket tomorrow to stock up on snack food. Anyway, after dinner I looked at my knees. They’re both large tomatoes, and by tomorrow I expect they’ll be large plums. Sitting hurts, but it’s not uncomfortable to lay down, hence my reclining position to type this entry.
We discussed just going out to the mall tomorrow to shop and hang out someplace warm, but we’ll see what happens. I have homework for Monday, and I know I sure as hell don’t feel like doing it tonight. I have no idea when I’ll be able to post this. Tomorrow night, Becky and I are going to see a production of Chekhov’s “Three Sisters.” Monday night, there’s an internship fair. Tuesday night, there’s a party with free food sponsored by the American Consulate. So maybe Wednesday. Looks like I’ll have plenty to write about between now and then.
I’m writing this entry laying down on my bed because it hurts to sit. As a great man once said--let me explain, or try to.
Woke up this morning and showered and then, through a series of text messages, debated cross-country skiing today with my traveling companions. The temperature was hovering at about –16, but we decided it was early and it would warm up, so we set off. We went to a place called, in English, “Okhta Park.” Okhta Park is located a marshrutka ride away from the last stop on the red line, Devyatkino. It’s fun to ride the Metro to the last stop on a line, when it’s just you and sleeping bum in your car.
At Devyatkino I met up with Becky and Hannah. It was swarming with people with skis and snowboards, setting off for other ski resorts in the area. We had a very nice marshrutka ride, largely due to a nice driver, and in spite of the slippery, bumpy, terrifying roads. Okhto Park is not only a cross-country skiing park; it also offers downhill, snowboarding, and ice-skating. We rented skis and waited for Kate to arrive. When she did, we suited up.
Well, I should say that with Becky’s help I suited up, because I was like a 5 year-old child at that place. I think it was the fact that I was wearing mittens. I couldn’t keep my boots tied, I could get my skis on, and I couldn’t get the Velcro on my pole straps to stay together. This should have been an indication as to how I would fair during the rest of the afternoon. I think I should make that a life rule: When attempting a new sport, if you can’t put on the gear, give up now.
Despite being 100% flatlander, I had, before today, never cross-country skied. Or downhill skied. Or touched a pair of skis. But somewhere deep inside, before I took my first few shuffling attempts at getting onto the path, I wanted to be really good at it. I think everyone feels something like that when they’re trying a new sport. Everyone wants it to come easy to them; everyone wants their friends to say, “Wow, you’re a natural!” or “Looks like you were born to do it!” Haha, I’d like that to happen just once when trying a new activity. At the very least, it’d be nice to be competent at some kind of winter sporting event. For someone who loves the Winter Olympics as much as I do, I sure wasn’t born to compete in them. Not that I’m born to compete in the Summer Olympics, either. I think I’m just born with the ability to watch the Opening and Closing Ceremonies.
At some point in the future, should I become some kind of Olympic champion in, say, curling (Doubtful—Can’t walk on ice, let alone slide or sweep), maybe I’ll write a book chronicling my attempts at other winter sports before I found my true calling. In this book, the chapter on cross-country skiing will be entitled, “Cross-Country Skiing: Not the Disaster it could have been.”
Perhaps if Okhto Park’s cross-country skiing paths had been in something more akin to a field, which would be flat and upon which I could develop some kind of rhythm, perhaps then I would’ve shown like the skiing diamond I am. Okhto Park’s trails wind through a lovely pine and birch forest. It was quite beautiful in the bright, sunny afternoon light with a nice snow cover. It was not, however, flat. Or anything close to it. When I asked Katie if she wanted to join us, she said that cross-country skiing required too much effort, and in reality it was more like “uphill skiing.” A large portion of what we did today was actually uphill.
This lovely, winding path had quite a few hills, actually. Hills that would be no problem to walk up. Maybe a little slippery, but not too bad. God, it was a disaster. I managed to establish the very, very beginnings of a rhythm when we encountered our first tiny hill. Making it up was a challenge. I just couldn’t maintain my balance. I didn’t fall, I would just wobble, and once I wobbled, I would slide back down the hill. Luckily for everyone involved, I made it up this anthill, only to be confronted on the other side with the startling realization that I would have to go down.
I certainly went down faster than I went up. Too fast. I would panic and become not a skier, but a flailing mix of poles and skis. And keep in mind, dear reader, that this hill would not trouble an old man with a walker. But up until this point, I had not fallen. The hills got bigger. I would take longer to get up them and less time to go back down, but I still hadn’t hit the ground.
That was, until, the hill with the bridge. The bridge was situated in a gully, such that on both sides there were hills that people would be going down on skis, but the bridge itself was only wide enough such that one person could go across at a time. Now, this hill actually was fairly steep. I can’t really provide a reference, but it’s less steep than the hill at the golf course in Portland that we used to sled on, but steeper than the hill outside Wright food court where Julia fell. Haha, I’m the only person that now has any idea of the relative steepness of this hill.
Anyway. Kate, whose mother is a cross-country skiing instructor, took her time and somehow managed to slowly get halfway down the hill before taking the time to line herself up and make it across the bridge. Hannah and Becky make it across as well, although not as easily. Then it’s my turn, because I’m obviously at the back of the line because of my issues getting up the hill in the first place. I think to myself, “Okay, get yourself all nice and lined up like Kate did, this’ll be easy.” As I’m getting myself lined up, I fall. Not a big fall, just kind of sideways. The hard part was getting back up. I would forget that I had skis on, and so I would twist myself into all kinds of positions that, had my feet been their normal lengths, would’ve made it possible to rise. Instead, I just banged my skis together for a while before reaching a standing position.
Then I started heading, too fast and with no control, toward the bridge. Surprisingly, I was all lined up to make it across just fine, but I fell again, right at the edge. So I rather unclimatically shuffled across the bridge and then made the long trip up the next hill.
On this hill, Becky suggested, after I fell after sliding all the way to the bottom, that I attempt going up the hill by turning sideways on the side of the path where there was more snow and stepping up the hill sideways. This worked relatively well. The problem was that my skis were sticking into the forest. So I would bang into trees and get caught in the underbrush and stomp all over saplings. But I made it to the top.
Repeat this process a few more times. Then I got to the largest hill yet, had signaled everyone to go on ahead of me, and while attempting to climb it, had a rather spectacular wipeout. Sitting at the bottom of the hill, struggling to get back up, I had had enough. Don’t get me wrong, it was plenty fun. But I had hit my left knee pretty hard on that last tumble. I did a quick mental calculation and figured that if I turned around at that point, I’d get back to the main lodge at the same time everyone else would after they had gone to the end of the path and circled back. So I set off the other direction.
On one of the hills I took another impressive dive, this time slamming my right knee into the hardened ice and snow. When it came time for the bridge hill again, I steeled myself for the worst. Luckily, there was no one on the other hill who would want me to go before them, so I was able to take my time.
And by take my time, I mean, “Stand at the top of the hill for a second or two, trying to decide if I should just take my skis off and walk back and then shifting my weight and setting off down the hill at a blistering speed.” So yeah. Without meaning to, I had shifted just enough to put my center of gravity in such a position to decide that the bottom of that hill was really the place I needed to be.
I waved my arms, clacked my poles together, but never closed my eyes. Because I never closed my eyes, I can tell you that I crossed the bridge in the dead center of it before having enough momentum to carry myself halfway up the next hill. I’m not sure how this happened. Of course, I fell at the top of this next hill, but whatever. I had my one success.
The rest of the way back went very slowly. I fell a few more times, but also I was just moving really slowly from exhaustion, cold, and pain. Though it’s embarrassing, I’m willing to admit that I got passed by an old woman. Walking. An old woman was walking faster than I was cross-country skiing. You don’t see that happening at the Olympics.
I survived and made it back to the lodge. I had all of my limbs. Unlike my mother’s first attempt at skiing, I did not wind up with a cast anywhere. I had had some successes. I didn’t end up alone and crying somewhere in the middle of the woods with snot all over my mittened hands and my skis somehow on backwards.
Suddenly I’m having a flashback to some time at the Winchester roller-skating rink, I must have been younger than 5, and I was in the big rink for the first time. Roller-skating, that’s something else I can’t do. I was always the kid at the elementary school skating parties who pulled herself along the bar all the way along the wall, all the way around the rink while everyone else skated backwards and did tricks and the like. Anyway, in this memory I had yet to discover that roller-skating would be yet another activity that would prove surprisingly difficult. I was with Mom, but, probably because I fell, we got separated. She was going with the flow and circling back to come get me so she didn’t get hit in the cross traffic. But I remember it feeling like it took half an hour for her to get back. I just remember crying and sitting on the floor and watching people skate past in the purplish glow of the black light. I couldn’t get up, I couldn’t move, everyone around me just passed on by and the person that could help me was nowhere to be found.
Anyway, my point is, that didn’t happen today. You see? It could’ve been much worse!
I met up with everyone back at the lodge and got out of my skis. For the next five minutes I kept tripping because I was walking like I still had skis on. We headed back to Devyatkino, and then back into town for a late lunch and then checking our email at Café Max.
Once I got back here, I ate an unsatisfying and headache-inducing meal of borscht, sausage, and mashed potatoes. I’m really wishing I still had those cookies that I took to the movies the other night. Maybe I’ll go to a supermarket tomorrow to stock up on snack food. Anyway, after dinner I looked at my knees. They’re both large tomatoes, and by tomorrow I expect they’ll be large plums. Sitting hurts, but it’s not uncomfortable to lay down, hence my reclining position to type this entry.
We discussed just going out to the mall tomorrow to shop and hang out someplace warm, but we’ll see what happens. I have homework for Monday, and I know I sure as hell don’t feel like doing it tonight. I have no idea when I’ll be able to post this. Tomorrow night, Becky and I are going to see a production of Chekhov’s “Three Sisters.” Monday night, there’s an internship fair. Tuesday night, there’s a party with free food sponsored by the American Consulate. So maybe Wednesday. Looks like I’ll have plenty to write about between now and then.
Friday, February 23, 2007
2-23-07
2-23-07
After Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday progressed as boringly as ever. Wednesday night, however, we had no power for a couple of hours so I read David Sedaris in the dark with a flashlight.
Yesterday morning I woke up and felt fine, at first. Then I had breakfast and as I was getting dressed it became quite clear that I had eaten something that was violently disagreeing with me. I stayed home from classes and slept and felt better by the afternoon. Marina made me something that was basically tea, but she showed me the plant she used to make it and it looked kind of like hops. It did not taste like hops, however. It tasted like she cut up a cereal box and boiled it.
My friends at school were convinced my symptoms were psychosomatic, as yesterday was supposed to be the coldest day of the winter. I assured them, without going into detail, that they were genuine.
I managed to convince Marina that I was fine and escaped after a lunch of kasha to meet up with everyone else at CityBar, where I enjoyed a tuna melt and some time online. We then all set out to see the new Russian movie “Paragraph 78.” We had no idea what the movie was going to be about. But it’s being promoted heavily, signs on every street and in every Metro car, so because we’re all sheep and it looked like a pretty brainless action thriller, we wanted to go because we figured we’d understand what was going on.
Well, we did understand what was going on, as the plot itself was incredibly formulaic: Elite Forces team splits up after mission gone wrong, four years later team leader must go through a montage of pulling all the wacky characters of the team back together. Team reunites after something goes wrong at a remote underground research facility. Love triangle between team leader and his second-in-command and the one woman on the team. And…zombies? You see, we’re not really sure EXACTLY what’s going on in the remote research facility, because the movie, unbeknownst to us (And I believe unbeknownst to everyone else in the audience), was purely the first half of a longer movie. So the movie ended on a cliffhanger. Luckily, the second half comes out at the end of March, so we’ll all be able to go and see it. That’s a relief.
Today, we don’t have classes as it’s “Defenders of the Homeland Day,” aka, the male equivalent to International Women’s Day. So a couple of us are thinking of going to the Yusopov Palace to check off another required museum. Yusopov Palace is the place where Rasputin was killed. Well, it was the place where they started to kill Rasputin. Unfortunately, it’s rather inconveniently located, so it looks like it’ll be a bit of a hike in the cold.
Tomorrow it looks like we’re going Cross-Country Skiing. This could be a disaster, as I have never before put my feet into any kind of skis. Plus, anyone with any knowledge of my ice-skating abilities knows that I should probably stay away from winter sports involving special footwear. We’ll see.
…Later that day. The Yusopov Palace was nice. Some of the rooms were actually decorated tastefully. Imagine that! I arrived way before Hannah did so I took the opportunity to wander down to the Mariinsky and the statue of Rimsky-Korsakov in the cold. Then Mattison arrived, and he and I waited in the lobby of the palace for Hannah, who had become lost and was miserably late, something she will never live down. Mattison and I started our audio tours without her. The audio tours were narrated by a very British gentleman who had an interesting cadence and sounded ridiculous when he had to absurdly describe some of the more ornate elements of the palace. Also, there was organ music to accompany us on a long transition between rooms. Highlights include: A study with a secret door hidden behind a bookcase, a room decorated in a Moroccan style that came out of nowhere, and the palace’s own, still-operating, theatre. Then we had a late lunch at Teremok, the three of us splitting an absolutely delicious chocolate blini at the end because we wanted an excuse to stay inside.
Then we met up with Becky and Kate with the intention of going to Moika 12, Pushkin’s apartment, but when we arrived it was closed. So then I made my way home, had dinner, and then came here, to Kofe Haus. Where I’m eating ice cream, even though I was so cold outside. It’s nice. It’s also nice to sit by the door. Yeah, every once in a while there’s a blast around my knees, but the smokers all sit away from the door.
After Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday progressed as boringly as ever. Wednesday night, however, we had no power for a couple of hours so I read David Sedaris in the dark with a flashlight.
Yesterday morning I woke up and felt fine, at first. Then I had breakfast and as I was getting dressed it became quite clear that I had eaten something that was violently disagreeing with me. I stayed home from classes and slept and felt better by the afternoon. Marina made me something that was basically tea, but she showed me the plant she used to make it and it looked kind of like hops. It did not taste like hops, however. It tasted like she cut up a cereal box and boiled it.
My friends at school were convinced my symptoms were psychosomatic, as yesterday was supposed to be the coldest day of the winter. I assured them, without going into detail, that they were genuine.
I managed to convince Marina that I was fine and escaped after a lunch of kasha to meet up with everyone else at CityBar, where I enjoyed a tuna melt and some time online. We then all set out to see the new Russian movie “Paragraph 78.” We had no idea what the movie was going to be about. But it’s being promoted heavily, signs on every street and in every Metro car, so because we’re all sheep and it looked like a pretty brainless action thriller, we wanted to go because we figured we’d understand what was going on.
Well, we did understand what was going on, as the plot itself was incredibly formulaic: Elite Forces team splits up after mission gone wrong, four years later team leader must go through a montage of pulling all the wacky characters of the team back together. Team reunites after something goes wrong at a remote underground research facility. Love triangle between team leader and his second-in-command and the one woman on the team. And…zombies? You see, we’re not really sure EXACTLY what’s going on in the remote research facility, because the movie, unbeknownst to us (And I believe unbeknownst to everyone else in the audience), was purely the first half of a longer movie. So the movie ended on a cliffhanger. Luckily, the second half comes out at the end of March, so we’ll all be able to go and see it. That’s a relief.
Today, we don’t have classes as it’s “Defenders of the Homeland Day,” aka, the male equivalent to International Women’s Day. So a couple of us are thinking of going to the Yusopov Palace to check off another required museum. Yusopov Palace is the place where Rasputin was killed. Well, it was the place where they started to kill Rasputin. Unfortunately, it’s rather inconveniently located, so it looks like it’ll be a bit of a hike in the cold.
Tomorrow it looks like we’re going Cross-Country Skiing. This could be a disaster, as I have never before put my feet into any kind of skis. Plus, anyone with any knowledge of my ice-skating abilities knows that I should probably stay away from winter sports involving special footwear. We’ll see.
…Later that day. The Yusopov Palace was nice. Some of the rooms were actually decorated tastefully. Imagine that! I arrived way before Hannah did so I took the opportunity to wander down to the Mariinsky and the statue of Rimsky-Korsakov in the cold. Then Mattison arrived, and he and I waited in the lobby of the palace for Hannah, who had become lost and was miserably late, something she will never live down. Mattison and I started our audio tours without her. The audio tours were narrated by a very British gentleman who had an interesting cadence and sounded ridiculous when he had to absurdly describe some of the more ornate elements of the palace. Also, there was organ music to accompany us on a long transition between rooms. Highlights include: A study with a secret door hidden behind a bookcase, a room decorated in a Moroccan style that came out of nowhere, and the palace’s own, still-operating, theatre. Then we had a late lunch at Teremok, the three of us splitting an absolutely delicious chocolate blini at the end because we wanted an excuse to stay inside.
Then we met up with Becky and Kate with the intention of going to Moika 12, Pushkin’s apartment, but when we arrived it was closed. So then I made my way home, had dinner, and then came here, to Kofe Haus. Where I’m eating ice cream, even though I was so cold outside. It’s nice. It’s also nice to sit by the door. Yeah, every once in a while there’s a blast around my knees, but the smokers all sit away from the door.
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
2-19-07
2-19-07
Woke up this morning and was surprisingly well-rested. I say “surprisingly” because even though I got the same amount of sleep that I usually do, I usually wake up and still feel like I could sleep for another hour or too. It was nice. Maybe it’s because the sun’s rising earlier, but I kind of doubt it because I’m still rising before it does.
Marina made my favorite breakfast—French Toast and then I put pieces of cheese on it. Why no, Russian cooking isn’t fattening, why do you ask? It’s interesting, as the word in Russian for “to gain weight” is directly related to the word for “better” and the word for “to lose weight” is, therefore, directly related to the word for “worse.” Yeah, it’s hard to cut back when everything here seems to be drenched in olive oil, mayonnaise, or sour cream. I’ve got another 2 1/2 months here, I’m sure that if I make an effort to cut back while I’m outside of the environs of this apartment, I’ll start feeling better. I honestly have no idea if all this extra butter in my system is affecting my weight—I don’t have a scale. Add into that the fact that my clothes are line-dried and therefore don’t shrink after the wash, and I could be 500 pounds by the end of this and have no idea. Okay, I take that back, I’d probably notice.
So anyway, got up and turned my phone on and saw that I had missed a call from Nathan, our program director. Weird, I thought. I texted Hannah and she told me that he had called everyone last night to check on everyone because there had been a bomb at the McDonald’s on Nevsky. This clicked, because I remembered the home phone ringing at about the same time as the missed call, so he called Marina when he couldn’t reach me to see if I was here. I had been asleep for like an hour, so being a loser who likes to sleep has its benefits, obviously.
Long story short, there was a small explosion at the McDonald’s on Nevsky, 6 people injured, none majorly. The police are saying that all indications are that it’s an act of local hooliganism and not terrorism, as it’s incredibly unprofessional and small-scale. A couple of girls from my class were in the Kofe Haus next door to the McDonald’s when the bomb went off, but they’re fine. The city, and therefore I as well, hasn’t missed a step, so no one else should, either.
In Phonetics today she recorded us reading from this thing and she’s going to listen to it and next week present each of us with a list of our mistakes. Yeah, I’m looking forward to it. I know I made at least 3—One on the stress on the character’s name, slurring the word for “living thing” so that it sounded like the word for “noun,” and fudging the Question Intonation #3 on the question at the end. We all agreed that we should get a copy of the tape, and, I don’t know, remix it or something. We all know that we make mistakes but the class is always so much fun that we don’t care. Of course, through all these mistakes our phonetics are really improving.
Then we had Literature with our real teacher back again, which was nice. She’s the first Russian I’ve met with a lisp, but she knows her stuff. She recited a really beautiful and haunting poem by Alexander Blok that I’m really going to have to look up at some point.
A couple of us went to Café Max after classes to hang out. An hour of internet there is cheaper than getting a roll and a Coke at Kolobok, so I’m good with it. Though others have considered wavering, I’m really not going to go there again. When I develop an absurd grudge against a place, I hold it. Come on, people, let’s stick to our guns, here.
I just made a list in my iCal of all the things I’m required to see, and then included the things that aren’t required, but that I do really want to check out, such as the Botanical Gardens, the pedestrian-only island, the museum of the Arctic and Antarctic, the zoo, and the like. Although I hear the zoo’s super depressing, I do kind of want to check it out. I also put on there things that I’ve discussed doing with other people so that we have some kind of definitive list. This is stuff like cross-country skiing (which we might do this weekend), a different Mexican restaurant, and seeing the ballet. Good thing my iCal has made me so anal-retentive that I list such things. It’s a nice way to fill the time. Also a nice way to fill the time: Reading! Who knew? Just kidding, I love reading, but at school it’s always hard to find the time to read without specifically thinking, “I’m going to read this afternoon.” Here there’s enough quiet time in the evenings that it just lends itself to curling up with a book.
So far I’ve read 4 books, just started Gorky Park. I plan on thoroughly working my way through the best of the CIEE English library by the time my time here is through. When I’ve had reading material, I’ve been at a pace of about 2 books a week. If I keep that up, let’s see…optimistically, I could read 26 more books. VERY optimistically. Maybe I’ll keep track of that on my computer, too. By the end of this I will create some kind of PowerPoint presentation graphing all the nonsensical things I’ve done here and it will have charts and sound effects and words that fly in from the side. You’ll all be very impressed, I’m sure.
Yeah, I really should go to bed.
Woke up this morning and was surprisingly well-rested. I say “surprisingly” because even though I got the same amount of sleep that I usually do, I usually wake up and still feel like I could sleep for another hour or too. It was nice. Maybe it’s because the sun’s rising earlier, but I kind of doubt it because I’m still rising before it does.
Marina made my favorite breakfast—French Toast and then I put pieces of cheese on it. Why no, Russian cooking isn’t fattening, why do you ask? It’s interesting, as the word in Russian for “to gain weight” is directly related to the word for “better” and the word for “to lose weight” is, therefore, directly related to the word for “worse.” Yeah, it’s hard to cut back when everything here seems to be drenched in olive oil, mayonnaise, or sour cream. I’ve got another 2 1/2 months here, I’m sure that if I make an effort to cut back while I’m outside of the environs of this apartment, I’ll start feeling better. I honestly have no idea if all this extra butter in my system is affecting my weight—I don’t have a scale. Add into that the fact that my clothes are line-dried and therefore don’t shrink after the wash, and I could be 500 pounds by the end of this and have no idea. Okay, I take that back, I’d probably notice.
So anyway, got up and turned my phone on and saw that I had missed a call from Nathan, our program director. Weird, I thought. I texted Hannah and she told me that he had called everyone last night to check on everyone because there had been a bomb at the McDonald’s on Nevsky. This clicked, because I remembered the home phone ringing at about the same time as the missed call, so he called Marina when he couldn’t reach me to see if I was here. I had been asleep for like an hour, so being a loser who likes to sleep has its benefits, obviously.
Long story short, there was a small explosion at the McDonald’s on Nevsky, 6 people injured, none majorly. The police are saying that all indications are that it’s an act of local hooliganism and not terrorism, as it’s incredibly unprofessional and small-scale. A couple of girls from my class were in the Kofe Haus next door to the McDonald’s when the bomb went off, but they’re fine. The city, and therefore I as well, hasn’t missed a step, so no one else should, either.
In Phonetics today she recorded us reading from this thing and she’s going to listen to it and next week present each of us with a list of our mistakes. Yeah, I’m looking forward to it. I know I made at least 3—One on the stress on the character’s name, slurring the word for “living thing” so that it sounded like the word for “noun,” and fudging the Question Intonation #3 on the question at the end. We all agreed that we should get a copy of the tape, and, I don’t know, remix it or something. We all know that we make mistakes but the class is always so much fun that we don’t care. Of course, through all these mistakes our phonetics are really improving.
Then we had Literature with our real teacher back again, which was nice. She’s the first Russian I’ve met with a lisp, but she knows her stuff. She recited a really beautiful and haunting poem by Alexander Blok that I’m really going to have to look up at some point.
A couple of us went to Café Max after classes to hang out. An hour of internet there is cheaper than getting a roll and a Coke at Kolobok, so I’m good with it. Though others have considered wavering, I’m really not going to go there again. When I develop an absurd grudge against a place, I hold it. Come on, people, let’s stick to our guns, here.
I just made a list in my iCal of all the things I’m required to see, and then included the things that aren’t required, but that I do really want to check out, such as the Botanical Gardens, the pedestrian-only island, the museum of the Arctic and Antarctic, the zoo, and the like. Although I hear the zoo’s super depressing, I do kind of want to check it out. I also put on there things that I’ve discussed doing with other people so that we have some kind of definitive list. This is stuff like cross-country skiing (which we might do this weekend), a different Mexican restaurant, and seeing the ballet. Good thing my iCal has made me so anal-retentive that I list such things. It’s a nice way to fill the time. Also a nice way to fill the time: Reading! Who knew? Just kidding, I love reading, but at school it’s always hard to find the time to read without specifically thinking, “I’m going to read this afternoon.” Here there’s enough quiet time in the evenings that it just lends itself to curling up with a book.
So far I’ve read 4 books, just started Gorky Park. I plan on thoroughly working my way through the best of the CIEE English library by the time my time here is through. When I’ve had reading material, I’ve been at a pace of about 2 books a week. If I keep that up, let’s see…optimistically, I could read 26 more books. VERY optimistically. Maybe I’ll keep track of that on my computer, too. By the end of this I will create some kind of PowerPoint presentation graphing all the nonsensical things I’ve done here and it will have charts and sound effects and words that fly in from the side. You’ll all be very impressed, I’m sure.
Yeah, I really should go to bed.
2-18-07
2-18-07
We didn’t go out last night, by the time plans were formulated, we were all too tired to go out knowing full well that we all wanted to get back before midnight when the Metro was still running. I woke up early this morning, when the water was still hot, and took a shower, and then promptly went back to sleep. Had pumpkin kasha for breakfast. Me? Pumpkin? Get out of town! Yeah, I really still don’t care for it. But I can stomach it. My comfort zone is now so far gone it’s hanging out with the Great Pumpkin.
After breakfast I lazed around a bit in my PJs and then finally got my sorry butt dressed and out the door. I read last night in the St. Petersburg Times in Kofe Haus about a new exhibit at the Ermitage about Alexander the Great and wanted to check it out. It was snowing like mad this morning, big flat flakes flying every which way, somehow coating the entire front of my coat and flying up my nose and hitting the back of my neck in the one spot my scarf wasn’t covering as well. Of course, the snow was blowing directly into my face for both my walk to the Metro and the walk from the Metro to the Ermitage.
Because it’s the weekend, there was a line outside of the Ermitage to get in. I waited about 5 minutes, it wasn’t too bad. Got inside, got my free ticket, and went to check my coat. Problem. Every hanger in the coat check was full, so we were just waiting for people to get back to retrieve their coats and every time someone came back, a new person got to hang up their coat. Yeah, I waited about 45 minutes at the coat check before a large school group got back and opened up about a third of the hooks.
Then I took the most bassackwards route to the Alexander the Great exhibit. Had I just taken the main staircase, I would’ve been there in roughly 30 seconds. Instead it was more like 30 minutes. I did find the French and Dutch rooms that we had missed the first time through when we mostly saw Italian, ancient Roman, and ancient Egyptian stuff. I really liked Rembrandt’s “Return of the Prodigal Son.”
So this exhibit was really great. I’ve always had a fascination with Alexander the Great. Maybe I’m just compelled to really epic tales, but it’s really mind-blowing to think about how much ground he covered and how much more he could have if he hadn’t been so obsessed with his own image. But, I mean, think about it—Greece to India, all under the control of one man. Staggering. It’s such a weird culture clash. Great empires of both east and west—Greece, Egypt, Persia, India all coming together and being one, if only momentarily. I guess it’s not surprising, then, with this fascination that I ended up here, in Russia, where the same East-meets-West battle goes on every day. Really, is Russia European or Asian? Both? Neither? Of course, Western Russian life isn’t exactly the same as Classical Greek culture, and Siberia isn’t India, but it’s still fascinating. That’s probably one of the reasons the Ermitage put on this exhibit.
So, after that ridiculously long paragraph about nothing, the exhibit! The first half was devoted to depictions of Alexander in art—Sculptures, paintings, coins, and the like. Probably the weirdest was a huge painting of Alexander the Great and Constantine as toddlers wearing armor and holding adult-sized spears. That crazy Renaissance.
The second room was devoted to artifacts from the era that Alexander the Great was in business. It started out with purely Greek pieces, and then Egyptian, and then Persian, and then Indian, and finally Central Asian. It was really awe-inspiring to see all these kinds of things in one room, and picturing the vast territory these artifacts represented. Good times.
So then I met up with Hannah at Chainaya Loshka, and she had run into Cadence as well. We had our last blini of Maslentisa. I think next week I’ll cut back. Yeah, we’ll see how that goes. At this point it was like 3 o’clock so we both went to Café Max and used the internet and met up with Tappert, Kate, and Lael and hung out for a bit. Hannah and I discussed how much we were craving movies to watch. So when I left Café Max, I popped into the sketchy DVD store next door. Of course, everything there’s pirated. But I found a copy of Pan’s Labyrinth (Of course, not out on DVD yet) that said it was in English and Russian for cheap and bought it. Of course, it’s only in Russian. Drat. I’ll see if anyone at school wants it and maybe we can arrange a trade. I feel like it’s the kind of movie you really need to see in the language in which it is meant to be seen. Maybe I’ll just wait and rent it this summer when I do my big “catch Mom and Dad up on all the movies they should have seen already” fest.
Speaking of Mom, Marina never reminds me of her. Especially not her cooking. But last night was an exception. I was sitting in the kitchen finishing my dinner, and Marina was in the other room watching TV. I was watching it through the doorway. Marina changes the channel and then, I believe, tries to change the channel again and instead hits the “Menu” button her remote. Instead of going to where it says “Exit,” she just turns the TV off, waits a few seconds, and then turns it back on again. Good job, Marina.
Wow, I just realized I haven’t indented a single paragraph in any single blog entry. That’s an odd stylistic choice, don’t you think? I usually indent without even thinking about it. Yeah, I really don’t want to do this Grammar homework we have. Maybe I’m just stalling.
Oh, so today is officially one month of me being in Russia! Ring the bells, sound the horns, I’m still alive, I’m still here! Hannah and I were discussing it at lunch, and it’s pretty crazy to think about. I mean, this past month has gone so fast and when we think about the fact that it’s that same amount of time times 2 1/2 to go, then, well, it’s just weird. I just counted; we have 9 weekends left, not counting the weekend in Moscow or the weekend of travel week. That makes it sound a bit better. Considering I still have to visit the Yusopov Palace, the Russian Museum, Pushkin’s Last Apartment, the Dostoevsky Museum, Tsarskoe selo, and Peterhof, those will be filled weekends. So 6 things to visit. Maybe I can talk some people into going to some of these places on days of short classes so are weekends aren’t as full. I mean, I know I want to spend a good amount of time at the Russian Museum, and Peterhof and Tsarskoe selo are day trips, so those’ll have to be weekends, but the rest could be done in an afternoon, right? We’ll see.
So in one month I’ve been to the Ermitage twice. I think that’s a good deal. I still need to go at least once, maybe twice more. It’s weird, this past month I haven’t felt at all like I was just sitting on my butt, but now that I’m looking at how much I want to do and how much time is left, I feel like I really need to push myself harder. I don’t know, that doesn’t really make sense; I’ve been doing all kinds of stuff. Obviously the only solution is unlimited time and unlimited cash. I’ll let you know when I figure out how to obtain those.
We didn’t go out last night, by the time plans were formulated, we were all too tired to go out knowing full well that we all wanted to get back before midnight when the Metro was still running. I woke up early this morning, when the water was still hot, and took a shower, and then promptly went back to sleep. Had pumpkin kasha for breakfast. Me? Pumpkin? Get out of town! Yeah, I really still don’t care for it. But I can stomach it. My comfort zone is now so far gone it’s hanging out with the Great Pumpkin.
After breakfast I lazed around a bit in my PJs and then finally got my sorry butt dressed and out the door. I read last night in the St. Petersburg Times in Kofe Haus about a new exhibit at the Ermitage about Alexander the Great and wanted to check it out. It was snowing like mad this morning, big flat flakes flying every which way, somehow coating the entire front of my coat and flying up my nose and hitting the back of my neck in the one spot my scarf wasn’t covering as well. Of course, the snow was blowing directly into my face for both my walk to the Metro and the walk from the Metro to the Ermitage.
Because it’s the weekend, there was a line outside of the Ermitage to get in. I waited about 5 minutes, it wasn’t too bad. Got inside, got my free ticket, and went to check my coat. Problem. Every hanger in the coat check was full, so we were just waiting for people to get back to retrieve their coats and every time someone came back, a new person got to hang up their coat. Yeah, I waited about 45 minutes at the coat check before a large school group got back and opened up about a third of the hooks.
Then I took the most bassackwards route to the Alexander the Great exhibit. Had I just taken the main staircase, I would’ve been there in roughly 30 seconds. Instead it was more like 30 minutes. I did find the French and Dutch rooms that we had missed the first time through when we mostly saw Italian, ancient Roman, and ancient Egyptian stuff. I really liked Rembrandt’s “Return of the Prodigal Son.”
So this exhibit was really great. I’ve always had a fascination with Alexander the Great. Maybe I’m just compelled to really epic tales, but it’s really mind-blowing to think about how much ground he covered and how much more he could have if he hadn’t been so obsessed with his own image. But, I mean, think about it—Greece to India, all under the control of one man. Staggering. It’s such a weird culture clash. Great empires of both east and west—Greece, Egypt, Persia, India all coming together and being one, if only momentarily. I guess it’s not surprising, then, with this fascination that I ended up here, in Russia, where the same East-meets-West battle goes on every day. Really, is Russia European or Asian? Both? Neither? Of course, Western Russian life isn’t exactly the same as Classical Greek culture, and Siberia isn’t India, but it’s still fascinating. That’s probably one of the reasons the Ermitage put on this exhibit.
So, after that ridiculously long paragraph about nothing, the exhibit! The first half was devoted to depictions of Alexander in art—Sculptures, paintings, coins, and the like. Probably the weirdest was a huge painting of Alexander the Great and Constantine as toddlers wearing armor and holding adult-sized spears. That crazy Renaissance.
The second room was devoted to artifacts from the era that Alexander the Great was in business. It started out with purely Greek pieces, and then Egyptian, and then Persian, and then Indian, and finally Central Asian. It was really awe-inspiring to see all these kinds of things in one room, and picturing the vast territory these artifacts represented. Good times.
So then I met up with Hannah at Chainaya Loshka, and she had run into Cadence as well. We had our last blini of Maslentisa. I think next week I’ll cut back. Yeah, we’ll see how that goes. At this point it was like 3 o’clock so we both went to Café Max and used the internet and met up with Tappert, Kate, and Lael and hung out for a bit. Hannah and I discussed how much we were craving movies to watch. So when I left Café Max, I popped into the sketchy DVD store next door. Of course, everything there’s pirated. But I found a copy of Pan’s Labyrinth (Of course, not out on DVD yet) that said it was in English and Russian for cheap and bought it. Of course, it’s only in Russian. Drat. I’ll see if anyone at school wants it and maybe we can arrange a trade. I feel like it’s the kind of movie you really need to see in the language in which it is meant to be seen. Maybe I’ll just wait and rent it this summer when I do my big “catch Mom and Dad up on all the movies they should have seen already” fest.
Speaking of Mom, Marina never reminds me of her. Especially not her cooking. But last night was an exception. I was sitting in the kitchen finishing my dinner, and Marina was in the other room watching TV. I was watching it through the doorway. Marina changes the channel and then, I believe, tries to change the channel again and instead hits the “Menu” button her remote. Instead of going to where it says “Exit,” she just turns the TV off, waits a few seconds, and then turns it back on again. Good job, Marina.
Wow, I just realized I haven’t indented a single paragraph in any single blog entry. That’s an odd stylistic choice, don’t you think? I usually indent without even thinking about it. Yeah, I really don’t want to do this Grammar homework we have. Maybe I’m just stalling.
Oh, so today is officially one month of me being in Russia! Ring the bells, sound the horns, I’m still alive, I’m still here! Hannah and I were discussing it at lunch, and it’s pretty crazy to think about. I mean, this past month has gone so fast and when we think about the fact that it’s that same amount of time times 2 1/2 to go, then, well, it’s just weird. I just counted; we have 9 weekends left, not counting the weekend in Moscow or the weekend of travel week. That makes it sound a bit better. Considering I still have to visit the Yusopov Palace, the Russian Museum, Pushkin’s Last Apartment, the Dostoevsky Museum, Tsarskoe selo, and Peterhof, those will be filled weekends. So 6 things to visit. Maybe I can talk some people into going to some of these places on days of short classes so are weekends aren’t as full. I mean, I know I want to spend a good amount of time at the Russian Museum, and Peterhof and Tsarskoe selo are day trips, so those’ll have to be weekends, but the rest could be done in an afternoon, right? We’ll see.
So in one month I’ve been to the Ermitage twice. I think that’s a good deal. I still need to go at least once, maybe twice more. It’s weird, this past month I haven’t felt at all like I was just sitting on my butt, but now that I’m looking at how much I want to do and how much time is left, I feel like I really need to push myself harder. I don’t know, that doesn’t really make sense; I’ve been doing all kinds of stuff. Obviously the only solution is unlimited time and unlimited cash. I’ll let you know when I figure out how to obtain those.
Saturday, February 17, 2007
2-17-07
2-17-07
Kofe Haus again. For some reason Word opened up in only 74% of its normal window size, so from a distance I guess you can’t really tell if I’m writing in Cyrillic or English. Despite this, I’m sure it’s still painfully obvious I’m an American.
Yesterday after a less-excruciating Civiliaztion Class, I met up with Hillary and Becky at the bookstore Bukvoed and we used the WiFi and Becky’s laptop there to nail down final plans and costs for travel week. But because we’re not purchasing the tickets til next week and I’m a crazy person terrified of jinxing things, I’m not going to discuss our plans until tickets are in hand, and hostel reservations are made.
After that, the three of us went out to an Italian restaurant near my apartment, Mama Roma. Very, very tasty, and also not expensive. Plus, they have free WiFi, though we didn’t use it. Just going to remember it in the future. Our waiter did get kind of obnoxious by the end of the night, though. I think it’s mostly because he was being mercilessly teased by the female staff for waiting on the 3 American girls in the restaurant
Wow, note to self: Kofe Haus has good ice cream.
Today I met up with Hannah, Kate, Mattison, Rachel Eve, Katie, and Katie’s Welsh roommate Beatrice and we shopped for a bit. It doesn’t sound like it would be a long activity, but it was. We were mostly souvenir shopping, but without the intention to buy, only to gauge prices. This does not please the owners of the souvenir stalls with their memorized English phrases. “Original watercolors!” “Matryoshka! There are pieces inside! Funny ones, Harry Potter, Putin!”
So then I came home, read for a bit, hand dinner and then came here. There’s talk of going to some kind of jazz club later tonight, I’ll see what kind of mood I’m in. For now, I’m going to finish this ice cream and enjoy my hour online.
Kofe Haus again. For some reason Word opened up in only 74% of its normal window size, so from a distance I guess you can’t really tell if I’m writing in Cyrillic or English. Despite this, I’m sure it’s still painfully obvious I’m an American.
Yesterday after a less-excruciating Civiliaztion Class, I met up with Hillary and Becky at the bookstore Bukvoed and we used the WiFi and Becky’s laptop there to nail down final plans and costs for travel week. But because we’re not purchasing the tickets til next week and I’m a crazy person terrified of jinxing things, I’m not going to discuss our plans until tickets are in hand, and hostel reservations are made.
After that, the three of us went out to an Italian restaurant near my apartment, Mama Roma. Very, very tasty, and also not expensive. Plus, they have free WiFi, though we didn’t use it. Just going to remember it in the future. Our waiter did get kind of obnoxious by the end of the night, though. I think it’s mostly because he was being mercilessly teased by the female staff for waiting on the 3 American girls in the restaurant
Wow, note to self: Kofe Haus has good ice cream.
Today I met up with Hannah, Kate, Mattison, Rachel Eve, Katie, and Katie’s Welsh roommate Beatrice and we shopped for a bit. It doesn’t sound like it would be a long activity, but it was. We were mostly souvenir shopping, but without the intention to buy, only to gauge prices. This does not please the owners of the souvenir stalls with their memorized English phrases. “Original watercolors!” “Matryoshka! There are pieces inside! Funny ones, Harry Potter, Putin!”
So then I came home, read for a bit, hand dinner and then came here. There’s talk of going to some kind of jazz club later tonight, I’ll see what kind of mood I’m in. For now, I’m going to finish this ice cream and enjoy my hour online.
Thursday, February 15, 2007
2-15-07
2-15-07
Okay, so it’s been 5 days since I wrote my last entry. I’m currently frustrated as hell. I’m boycotting Kolobok (More on that later), so I went back to the Idealnaya Chashka right near my apartment. Of course, again, the internet isn’t working. I’m going to give it some time and finish typing this. I know the first time I was at Kolobok it took like 15 minutes. We’ll see. If not, there’s a Kofe Haus nearby, and some other place Marina described with internet access. Honestly, I’m just worried about my bladder. Because I always feel the need to buy something in addition to WiFi, so I get a bottle of water. This could be a three bottle night if things don’t go my way.
So. Where to begin! I just reread my post from 2-10 that hasn’t been posted yet, and it’s so boring that it’s not much help. It’s been an active past couple of days. I’ll try to tackle it day by day.
Monday was a short day, so after classes a couple of us went to Chainaya Loshka and had some more blini to celebrate Maslenitsa. This week is the Russian holiday Maslenitsa. It’s basically a Mardigras-type celebration, a weeklong Fat Tuesday before Lent. The name of the holiday comes from the word for “butter” and the main idea of this week is to eat as many blini as possible. We’re working on it. Then, at the end of the week, a scarecrow is set on fire. Wacky, I know. After lunch, I bought a DVD because I’m always looking for new and exciting forms of entertainment. But do not fear, this DVD also had educational value! Because, you see, my new copy of Dnevnik Bridget Jones (Bridget Jones’s Diary) can be watched in English, Russian, or Polish, or in any of those with subtitles in any of those languages. So Monday night I watched it simply in Russian, but I’m thinking that next up is English with Russian subtitles and then Russian with English subtitles and then purely Russian. You see? Soon I’ll be learning exciting vocab like “thighs” in Russian.
Tuesday we again ate more blini after school and then went to a museum. That night, I got home and Marina made me a very, very quick dinner because she was going out. I’m pretty sure she went to her son’s house, but I’m not sure. All I know is that I had the apartment to myself for a whole night for the first time. So I bet you can guess what I did! That’s right, I ate cookies and laid on the couch and watched an episode of Animal Cops dubbed in Russian and then the movie Cool Runnings dubbed in Russian. It was actually really nice and relaxing.
Wednesday was a long day, and my last long Wednesday. After this, I will go back to my original schedule of long Mondays and Fridays. My Literature teacher has been in Austria for the past two weeks so her replacement is only available on Wednesdays. I’m looking forward to her return, she’s pretty fantastic in a Ms. Frizzle/Mad Professor type way.
We went to Kolobok after classes. Like usual, we ate a ridiculous amount of food. Of course, the internet didn’t start working until 5 instead of 4, so we ended up staying longer than we meant to. So then we’ve got three laptops open, discussing travel plans for travel week (More on that later), and one of the Kolobok suited guys came up to us and is like, “This is not an internet café. There is an internet café on Nevksy. This is a restaurant.” We said, “We already ate, they came and took our plates.” He doesn’t believe us. We show him a receipt. “This is from an hour ago.” We say, “The internet just started working.” He says, “This is a restaurant.” We say, “We know, we came and ate, we’re all sitting at one table so we don’t waste space.” “This is not an internet café.” Then he disappeared and about 30 seconds later the WiFi turned off.
Conclusion: Even if we had been speaking picture-perfect Russian (Which we weren’t, but anyone listening would’ve understood what we were saying), he just wasn’t listening to us because he’s a pompous jerk on a power trip. So basically, we’re done with Kolobok. We then went to a bookstore with a tiny café with WiFi, but it was really slow. So the hunt continues for reliable WiFi, as Idealnaya Chashka continues to fight with me.
Earlier in the week, Hannah had read in the English language newspaper The St. Petersburg Times about a concert on Wednesday night that sounded amazing. So Hannah, Hillary, Kate, Lael, and I went to this club to see it. The club itself was kind of sketch from the outside and really smoky on the inside, but not bad at all. Now, the band…the band was amazing. It’s this folk/gypsy rock all-girl group called Iva Nova. The St. Petersburg Times said they’re pretty much the best live band in Russia, and I really can’t disagree. The band consisted of: Bass, Guitar, Drums, Vocalist/Tambourine, Lead Vocalist, Accordion, and on many songs, Trombone, Tuba, Tenor Saxophone and Wood Flute/Recorder. Freaking amazing. The accordionist was pretty much the coolest person in the world; she was so into it and making all kinds of facial expressions. And the drummer had bells attached to her kit. And the tuba and the trombone and oh man there was one song when they all took out their own individual cowbells and I about peed my pants. It was so great. I kind of want to get their new album, but I know that it won’t really compare to the live show.
Okay, I’m going to pack this sucker up and try to head down to the Kofe Haus. Let’s see how this goes.
Success! And it’s way cheaper here! Of course, it’s way more crowded, but I’ll deal. Instead of water, I got a “chocolate milkshake” that kind of just tastes like really cold chocolate milk. Whatever, I’m just happy this works. Nevermind the fact that I’m sharing a table with a complete stranger. I’m just happy this is working.
So, yes, travel week. We know where we’re going, and where we’re staying when we’re there. We also know how we’re returning. The only question now is how to get there. I’ll give you a hint: We’re trying to decide between ship or plane. I can tell you where I’m NOT going. I’m not going to any of these places: Sri Lanka, Timbuktu, Copenhagen, South Dakota, or Svalbard (Alas).
Okay, I’m going to post this and fart around on the internet for the rest of my hour online. Woo!
Okay, so it’s been 5 days since I wrote my last entry. I’m currently frustrated as hell. I’m boycotting Kolobok (More on that later), so I went back to the Idealnaya Chashka right near my apartment. Of course, again, the internet isn’t working. I’m going to give it some time and finish typing this. I know the first time I was at Kolobok it took like 15 minutes. We’ll see. If not, there’s a Kofe Haus nearby, and some other place Marina described with internet access. Honestly, I’m just worried about my bladder. Because I always feel the need to buy something in addition to WiFi, so I get a bottle of water. This could be a three bottle night if things don’t go my way.
So. Where to begin! I just reread my post from 2-10 that hasn’t been posted yet, and it’s so boring that it’s not much help. It’s been an active past couple of days. I’ll try to tackle it day by day.
Monday was a short day, so after classes a couple of us went to Chainaya Loshka and had some more blini to celebrate Maslenitsa. This week is the Russian holiday Maslenitsa. It’s basically a Mardigras-type celebration, a weeklong Fat Tuesday before Lent. The name of the holiday comes from the word for “butter” and the main idea of this week is to eat as many blini as possible. We’re working on it. Then, at the end of the week, a scarecrow is set on fire. Wacky, I know. After lunch, I bought a DVD because I’m always looking for new and exciting forms of entertainment. But do not fear, this DVD also had educational value! Because, you see, my new copy of Dnevnik Bridget Jones (Bridget Jones’s Diary) can be watched in English, Russian, or Polish, or in any of those with subtitles in any of those languages. So Monday night I watched it simply in Russian, but I’m thinking that next up is English with Russian subtitles and then Russian with English subtitles and then purely Russian. You see? Soon I’ll be learning exciting vocab like “thighs” in Russian.
Tuesday we again ate more blini after school and then went to a museum. That night, I got home and Marina made me a very, very quick dinner because she was going out. I’m pretty sure she went to her son’s house, but I’m not sure. All I know is that I had the apartment to myself for a whole night for the first time. So I bet you can guess what I did! That’s right, I ate cookies and laid on the couch and watched an episode of Animal Cops dubbed in Russian and then the movie Cool Runnings dubbed in Russian. It was actually really nice and relaxing.
Wednesday was a long day, and my last long Wednesday. After this, I will go back to my original schedule of long Mondays and Fridays. My Literature teacher has been in Austria for the past two weeks so her replacement is only available on Wednesdays. I’m looking forward to her return, she’s pretty fantastic in a Ms. Frizzle/Mad Professor type way.
We went to Kolobok after classes. Like usual, we ate a ridiculous amount of food. Of course, the internet didn’t start working until 5 instead of 4, so we ended up staying longer than we meant to. So then we’ve got three laptops open, discussing travel plans for travel week (More on that later), and one of the Kolobok suited guys came up to us and is like, “This is not an internet café. There is an internet café on Nevksy. This is a restaurant.” We said, “We already ate, they came and took our plates.” He doesn’t believe us. We show him a receipt. “This is from an hour ago.” We say, “The internet just started working.” He says, “This is a restaurant.” We say, “We know, we came and ate, we’re all sitting at one table so we don’t waste space.” “This is not an internet café.” Then he disappeared and about 30 seconds later the WiFi turned off.
Conclusion: Even if we had been speaking picture-perfect Russian (Which we weren’t, but anyone listening would’ve understood what we were saying), he just wasn’t listening to us because he’s a pompous jerk on a power trip. So basically, we’re done with Kolobok. We then went to a bookstore with a tiny café with WiFi, but it was really slow. So the hunt continues for reliable WiFi, as Idealnaya Chashka continues to fight with me.
Earlier in the week, Hannah had read in the English language newspaper The St. Petersburg Times about a concert on Wednesday night that sounded amazing. So Hannah, Hillary, Kate, Lael, and I went to this club to see it. The club itself was kind of sketch from the outside and really smoky on the inside, but not bad at all. Now, the band…the band was amazing. It’s this folk/gypsy rock all-girl group called Iva Nova. The St. Petersburg Times said they’re pretty much the best live band in Russia, and I really can’t disagree. The band consisted of: Bass, Guitar, Drums, Vocalist/Tambourine, Lead Vocalist, Accordion, and on many songs, Trombone, Tuba, Tenor Saxophone and Wood Flute/Recorder. Freaking amazing. The accordionist was pretty much the coolest person in the world; she was so into it and making all kinds of facial expressions. And the drummer had bells attached to her kit. And the tuba and the trombone and oh man there was one song when they all took out their own individual cowbells and I about peed my pants. It was so great. I kind of want to get their new album, but I know that it won’t really compare to the live show.
Okay, I’m going to pack this sucker up and try to head down to the Kofe Haus. Let’s see how this goes.
Success! And it’s way cheaper here! Of course, it’s way more crowded, but I’ll deal. Instead of water, I got a “chocolate milkshake” that kind of just tastes like really cold chocolate milk. Whatever, I’m just happy this works. Nevermind the fact that I’m sharing a table with a complete stranger. I’m just happy this is working.
So, yes, travel week. We know where we’re going, and where we’re staying when we’re there. We also know how we’re returning. The only question now is how to get there. I’ll give you a hint: We’re trying to decide between ship or plane. I can tell you where I’m NOT going. I’m not going to any of these places: Sri Lanka, Timbuktu, Copenhagen, South Dakota, or Svalbard (Alas).
Okay, I’m going to post this and fart around on the internet for the rest of my hour online. Woo!
2-11-07
2-11-07
What an uneventful day.
Slept in til 10. Had apricot blini for breakfast. Hung around in my pajamas, reading the English language St. Petersburg Times I picked up the other day. Hannah messaged me to meet up at Kolobok at 1, and Marina left for somewhere at 11:00ish, so I basically just took my time getting ready and took a couple of pictures around the apartment before heading out.
Today started out just as startlingly sunny as yesterday, with the sky a deep blue. The Metro was almost deserted which meant I could sit down. This was especially nice today, because I had my laptop in my backpack, as well as my large dictionary and heavy copy of 501 Russian Verbs. It was like lugging a bag of rocks.
Met up with Hannah, grabbed a small lunch there. Then the two of us spent the next two hours just goofing around on the internet, uploading pictures and the like. Anthony randomly happened to walk in while we were there and joined us with his laptop. Once our batteries died, Hannah and I started comparing notes for our absolutely ridiculous Grammar test tomorrow.
I’ve complained to people back home about this, and it’s still frustrating. Back at IU, or any school, you pick the classes you’re going to take the semester beforehand. You get a chance to check out the class, the professor, talk to people who’ve taken the class, etc. But here we’re just in a set schedule; the only choice was between Gazeta and a literature analysis class. Long story short, our grammar teacher is driving all of us nuts. She’s a nice enough person, but we’re all just frustrated because her emphasis has been more on us memorizing verbs than, say, learning any grammatical concepts. So tomorrow we have a test that’s essentially a vocab test over a huge number of verbs. Plus, the other day she was still going even though time for class was over, and one of the guys in the class, Joe, told her that we were 5 minutes over. She told him that her watch said we were only 2 minutes over and she wanted to finish what she was talking about. So she kept us another 5 minutes.
Maybe I’ve just gotten used to IU where everyone gets up the very second class is over, and they spend the last 5 minutes of class gathering their notes and zipping their bags and whatnot. Long story short, as I said to Emily, my Russian is improving, though I’m pretty sure a large part of that is due to activities taking place outside of the classroom.
This is, of course, with the exception of Phonetics, which we all absolutely adore. Our Phonetics teacher, who we refer to only as “Fonetika” looks just like the mom from the original Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, so sometimes I just refer to her as “Cheer Up Charlie.” She’s always so prim and proper but the class lends itself to hilarity and she’s well aware of that and isn’t afraid to laugh at us when we sound like idiots.
After I got back here, I called Emily to make up for our missed opportunity yesterday. Had some rather tasty mushroom soup for dinner, along with mashed potatoes and a salmon patty. Me? Eating mushrooms? I know! Called Mom and Dad to chat for a bit as well. Weekends really lend themselves to calls home, so maybe I should start figuring out whom I’m going to call beforehand. I already know I need to call Maggie, and now that Emily’s given me her number, I’ll try to do that next weekend.
Not this coming weekend, but the weekend after that, we have a three-day weekend, as Friday is a national holiday. We won’t have our multiple-entry visas yet, so a weekend trip to Tallinn, Estonia is out of the question. Instead it’s looking like a few of us might try to take one of the days and head out to Tsarskoe Selo (Or Pushkin Palace, as it’s located in the town of Pushkin). It’s the site of the famous and mysterious Amber Room, so it could be an exciting visit. We know we all want to go to Peterhof too, but that’s not really worth it until May when the fountains are running.
I’m trying to solidify my plans for travel week, but I’m going to refrain from discussing them, as they are still quite gelatinous. This week should lead to lots of people figuring out what they’re doing for sure and purchasing tickets, because the sooner you buy them, the cheaper they are.
It clouded over and started snowing while we were in Kolobok, so it looks like tomorrow will probably be another gloomy day. At least it’s short. I was just thinking about how I’m ready to go to sleep (It’s not even 9:30) even though I slept til 10 today. This would sound like traditional college student laziness, but I’m pretty sure there’s a good reason for it.
At about 2:30 this morning, the person who lives above me started building a birdhouse or something. No, I don’t know what they were doing, but whatever it was required lots and lots of hammering. And it wasn’t like they were doing something else that maybe sounding like hammering, this was hammering. I was half-asleep and contemplating what they could possibly be doing for half an hour. When it started, I remember thinking, “Oh, well, he’ll just get this one picture hung” and it’ll be over. Why I was so convinced that it was normal for someone to hang a picture at 2:30 in the morning is beyond me, but I was only half-awake.
It continued. I imagined him choosing this time to lay a new hardwood floor, because it really sounded like those nails were going straight into the floor. He stopped for a minute or two, which allowed me to edge a little closer to sleep, so when he started back up again I was absolutely convinced he was building a coffin. I know it was loud enough to wake Marina up, because I heard her go to the bathroom. He stopped after about half an hour. It’s odd because the building is generally fairly quiet. Of course, there are people returning late at night and whatnot, but I’m used to that from school. So maybe I’ll go ahead and go to bed now. Sounds like a good plan to me.
What an uneventful day.
Slept in til 10. Had apricot blini for breakfast. Hung around in my pajamas, reading the English language St. Petersburg Times I picked up the other day. Hannah messaged me to meet up at Kolobok at 1, and Marina left for somewhere at 11:00ish, so I basically just took my time getting ready and took a couple of pictures around the apartment before heading out.
Today started out just as startlingly sunny as yesterday, with the sky a deep blue. The Metro was almost deserted which meant I could sit down. This was especially nice today, because I had my laptop in my backpack, as well as my large dictionary and heavy copy of 501 Russian Verbs. It was like lugging a bag of rocks.
Met up with Hannah, grabbed a small lunch there. Then the two of us spent the next two hours just goofing around on the internet, uploading pictures and the like. Anthony randomly happened to walk in while we were there and joined us with his laptop. Once our batteries died, Hannah and I started comparing notes for our absolutely ridiculous Grammar test tomorrow.
I’ve complained to people back home about this, and it’s still frustrating. Back at IU, or any school, you pick the classes you’re going to take the semester beforehand. You get a chance to check out the class, the professor, talk to people who’ve taken the class, etc. But here we’re just in a set schedule; the only choice was between Gazeta and a literature analysis class. Long story short, our grammar teacher is driving all of us nuts. She’s a nice enough person, but we’re all just frustrated because her emphasis has been more on us memorizing verbs than, say, learning any grammatical concepts. So tomorrow we have a test that’s essentially a vocab test over a huge number of verbs. Plus, the other day she was still going even though time for class was over, and one of the guys in the class, Joe, told her that we were 5 minutes over. She told him that her watch said we were only 2 minutes over and she wanted to finish what she was talking about. So she kept us another 5 minutes.
Maybe I’ve just gotten used to IU where everyone gets up the very second class is over, and they spend the last 5 minutes of class gathering their notes and zipping their bags and whatnot. Long story short, as I said to Emily, my Russian is improving, though I’m pretty sure a large part of that is due to activities taking place outside of the classroom.
This is, of course, with the exception of Phonetics, which we all absolutely adore. Our Phonetics teacher, who we refer to only as “Fonetika” looks just like the mom from the original Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, so sometimes I just refer to her as “Cheer Up Charlie.” She’s always so prim and proper but the class lends itself to hilarity and she’s well aware of that and isn’t afraid to laugh at us when we sound like idiots.
After I got back here, I called Emily to make up for our missed opportunity yesterday. Had some rather tasty mushroom soup for dinner, along with mashed potatoes and a salmon patty. Me? Eating mushrooms? I know! Called Mom and Dad to chat for a bit as well. Weekends really lend themselves to calls home, so maybe I should start figuring out whom I’m going to call beforehand. I already know I need to call Maggie, and now that Emily’s given me her number, I’ll try to do that next weekend.
Not this coming weekend, but the weekend after that, we have a three-day weekend, as Friday is a national holiday. We won’t have our multiple-entry visas yet, so a weekend trip to Tallinn, Estonia is out of the question. Instead it’s looking like a few of us might try to take one of the days and head out to Tsarskoe Selo (Or Pushkin Palace, as it’s located in the town of Pushkin). It’s the site of the famous and mysterious Amber Room, so it could be an exciting visit. We know we all want to go to Peterhof too, but that’s not really worth it until May when the fountains are running.
I’m trying to solidify my plans for travel week, but I’m going to refrain from discussing them, as they are still quite gelatinous. This week should lead to lots of people figuring out what they’re doing for sure and purchasing tickets, because the sooner you buy them, the cheaper they are.
It clouded over and started snowing while we were in Kolobok, so it looks like tomorrow will probably be another gloomy day. At least it’s short. I was just thinking about how I’m ready to go to sleep (It’s not even 9:30) even though I slept til 10 today. This would sound like traditional college student laziness, but I’m pretty sure there’s a good reason for it.
At about 2:30 this morning, the person who lives above me started building a birdhouse or something. No, I don’t know what they were doing, but whatever it was required lots and lots of hammering. And it wasn’t like they were doing something else that maybe sounding like hammering, this was hammering. I was half-asleep and contemplating what they could possibly be doing for half an hour. When it started, I remember thinking, “Oh, well, he’ll just get this one picture hung” and it’ll be over. Why I was so convinced that it was normal for someone to hang a picture at 2:30 in the morning is beyond me, but I was only half-awake.
It continued. I imagined him choosing this time to lay a new hardwood floor, because it really sounded like those nails were going straight into the floor. He stopped for a minute or two, which allowed me to edge a little closer to sleep, so when he started back up again I was absolutely convinced he was building a coffin. I know it was loud enough to wake Marina up, because I heard her go to the bathroom. He stopped after about half an hour. It’s odd because the building is generally fairly quiet. Of course, there are people returning late at night and whatnot, but I’m used to that from school. So maybe I’ll go ahead and go to bed now. Sounds like a good plan to me.
Sunday, February 11, 2007
2-10-07
2-10-07
Well. I’m exhausted.
Last night after posting that entry I left Kolobok, came back here and took the time to drop off my laptop before heading out to the Georgian restaurant, Café Tblis. This place was swanky. Still not ridiculously expensive. More like what I’d expect to pay at, say, a Texas Roadhouse back home. But a million times better. The ambience was great. Everything was well-decorated, the lighting was soft and there were candles, overall just a classy, classy place. The light fixtures hanging from the ceilings were made from horns, which was really cool. All employees were dressed in traditional Georgian folk outfits, and there was a trio of guys going through the restaurant playing instruments and singing folk tunes, in Georgian, of course.
I had a nice spicy chicken dish that I absolutely devoured. Everyone loved his or her dishes. But we all agreed that the best part of the restaurant was the English menu. The descriptions of dishes were oddly translated, but they must’ve been odd in Russian, as well. Something was described as being “filled with the cheesy stuff!” And another dish was, “Airy like a dream and warm like the lover’s breath.” Classic.
This morning I slept in til 10, as did Marina. Had some kasha and then hit the town. My original plan was to meet up with Hannah to visit the Russian museum. But when I woke up, opened my curtains and saw that the sky was ridiculously, ridiculously blue, I knew that I couldn’t spend today in a museum.
Instead, I just took my camera and wandered around, taking pictures. I’ll post a few, obviously. I walked around the Church on Spilled Blood and then down through the arch of the General Staff Building out in front of the Ermitage. My plan then was to hit up the Bronze Horseman and then go to St. Isaac’s Cathedral, circling back around onto Nevsky to go to the Fontanka Canal and then get some lunch. Well, on my way to St. Isaac’s, the batteries in my camera died, and I had forgotten to bring the extra batteries that I have. So I thought to myself, “I’ll just find a produkti (little grocery) nearby and grab some batteries. Well, I kind of had to wander a bit to find a produkti. At this point I was more turned around than I thought I was. I ended up going the totally wrong direction and walking around in the cold for about an hour before I got my bearings and headed back to Nevsky.
I met up at Chainaya Loshka with Hannah and Mattison who had spent some time at the Russian Museum. Kate joined us as well because she was also on Nevsky. After some blini, we met Hillary at the Metro and Kate left us and the four of us headed by trolleybus over to Vasilevski Island to the Kunstkamera. Interestingly, we randomly met up with Anthony at the Kunstkamera.
The Kunstkamera was Russia’s first museum, founded by Peter the Great. The first level is purely collections of artifacts from the cultures that fascinated Peter: Native Americans, the tribes of the Amazon, Southeast Asia, etc. There were a large number of life-sized mannequins in terrifying poses. We all agreed that this area had an odd vibe about it. Whereas in an American museum, you would be getting a message of tolerance and appreciation for different cultures, this felt more like, “Hey, look how these people dress, isn’t that CRAZY?”
Of course, the main draw of the Kunstkamera is not on the first floor. On the second floor is the other reason Peter the Great founded the museum. He wanted to educate the masses, and let them know that physical deformities were not the work of the devil, they instead just scientifically happened sometimes. So Peter solicited abnormal fetuses from across the country and Europe and had European scientists preserve them properly. So it’s a room full of malformed fetuses in jars. It was, of course, interesting and disturbing at the same time. It was also kind of hilarious because mixed in with babies with three heads in jars would be, like, stuffed lizards and other flora and fauna. So the description at the bottom of a case would read like so: “1. Fetus with two heads, three arms, and four legs. 2. Fetus with fused legs. 3. Fetus born without limbs. 4. Coral.”
The other (I say “other” like there were only two) disturbing thing was that while most of the labels said “Fetus” a couple actually said “Monster.” I was okay through most of it but at the end the shelf of children’s heads in jars got me a little lightheaded. I don’t know how the two pregnant women who were there managed to make it, and I certainly can’t fathom why they decided to come.
So then Hannah and I relaxed at an internet café for a while before heading out to meet Hillary and Anthony at the restaurant Ivanhoe. It’s medievally themed. However, the only real medieval food on the menu appeared to be a couple of things that could be roasted on spits. Hillary and I had excellent, excellent beef stroganoff.
Then I came back here and tried to call Emily, but she wasn’t answering her cell phone and I hadn’t written down her home number or Maggie’s home number. So then I tried to call home to get it, but no one was home. So then I tried to call Julia, but her phone went crazy. So then I called Elyse and she was more than happy to be my last resort call.
I walked around so much today, I am absolutely wiped. Time to hit the sack, I have a ridiculous amount of homework tomorrow.
Well. I’m exhausted.
Last night after posting that entry I left Kolobok, came back here and took the time to drop off my laptop before heading out to the Georgian restaurant, Café Tblis. This place was swanky. Still not ridiculously expensive. More like what I’d expect to pay at, say, a Texas Roadhouse back home. But a million times better. The ambience was great. Everything was well-decorated, the lighting was soft and there were candles, overall just a classy, classy place. The light fixtures hanging from the ceilings were made from horns, which was really cool. All employees were dressed in traditional Georgian folk outfits, and there was a trio of guys going through the restaurant playing instruments and singing folk tunes, in Georgian, of course.
I had a nice spicy chicken dish that I absolutely devoured. Everyone loved his or her dishes. But we all agreed that the best part of the restaurant was the English menu. The descriptions of dishes were oddly translated, but they must’ve been odd in Russian, as well. Something was described as being “filled with the cheesy stuff!” And another dish was, “Airy like a dream and warm like the lover’s breath.” Classic.
This morning I slept in til 10, as did Marina. Had some kasha and then hit the town. My original plan was to meet up with Hannah to visit the Russian museum. But when I woke up, opened my curtains and saw that the sky was ridiculously, ridiculously blue, I knew that I couldn’t spend today in a museum.
Instead, I just took my camera and wandered around, taking pictures. I’ll post a few, obviously. I walked around the Church on Spilled Blood and then down through the arch of the General Staff Building out in front of the Ermitage. My plan then was to hit up the Bronze Horseman and then go to St. Isaac’s Cathedral, circling back around onto Nevsky to go to the Fontanka Canal and then get some lunch. Well, on my way to St. Isaac’s, the batteries in my camera died, and I had forgotten to bring the extra batteries that I have. So I thought to myself, “I’ll just find a produkti (little grocery) nearby and grab some batteries. Well, I kind of had to wander a bit to find a produkti. At this point I was more turned around than I thought I was. I ended up going the totally wrong direction and walking around in the cold for about an hour before I got my bearings and headed back to Nevsky.
I met up at Chainaya Loshka with Hannah and Mattison who had spent some time at the Russian Museum. Kate joined us as well because she was also on Nevsky. After some blini, we met Hillary at the Metro and Kate left us and the four of us headed by trolleybus over to Vasilevski Island to the Kunstkamera. Interestingly, we randomly met up with Anthony at the Kunstkamera.
The Kunstkamera was Russia’s first museum, founded by Peter the Great. The first level is purely collections of artifacts from the cultures that fascinated Peter: Native Americans, the tribes of the Amazon, Southeast Asia, etc. There were a large number of life-sized mannequins in terrifying poses. We all agreed that this area had an odd vibe about it. Whereas in an American museum, you would be getting a message of tolerance and appreciation for different cultures, this felt more like, “Hey, look how these people dress, isn’t that CRAZY?”
Of course, the main draw of the Kunstkamera is not on the first floor. On the second floor is the other reason Peter the Great founded the museum. He wanted to educate the masses, and let them know that physical deformities were not the work of the devil, they instead just scientifically happened sometimes. So Peter solicited abnormal fetuses from across the country and Europe and had European scientists preserve them properly. So it’s a room full of malformed fetuses in jars. It was, of course, interesting and disturbing at the same time. It was also kind of hilarious because mixed in with babies with three heads in jars would be, like, stuffed lizards and other flora and fauna. So the description at the bottom of a case would read like so: “1. Fetus with two heads, three arms, and four legs. 2. Fetus with fused legs. 3. Fetus born without limbs. 4. Coral.”
The other (I say “other” like there were only two) disturbing thing was that while most of the labels said “Fetus” a couple actually said “Monster.” I was okay through most of it but at the end the shelf of children’s heads in jars got me a little lightheaded. I don’t know how the two pregnant women who were there managed to make it, and I certainly can’t fathom why they decided to come.
So then Hannah and I relaxed at an internet café for a while before heading out to meet Hillary and Anthony at the restaurant Ivanhoe. It’s medievally themed. However, the only real medieval food on the menu appeared to be a couple of things that could be roasted on spits. Hillary and I had excellent, excellent beef stroganoff.
Then I came back here and tried to call Emily, but she wasn’t answering her cell phone and I hadn’t written down her home number or Maggie’s home number. So then I tried to call home to get it, but no one was home. So then I tried to call Julia, but her phone went crazy. So then I called Elyse and she was more than happy to be my last resort call.
I walked around so much today, I am absolutely wiped. Time to hit the sack, I have a ridiculous amount of homework tomorrow.
Around the apartment
In order: My bed, the view from my window, my side street, and Bolshoi Prospekt.
Friday, February 9, 2007
2-9-07
Oh wow, I'm actually writing a post while I'm online at Kolobok! There's a first time for everything!
Classes today, as predicted, totally dragged. After classes I went and bought two tickets to a production of Chekhov's "Three Sisters" on the 25th. I'm not 100% sure that Marina's going to use the second ticket, so if not, I think Katie'll take it. Unless she's in Latvia, in which case I'll auction it off to the person who most wants to spend time with me. I almost said, "Spend the night with me" but that would be inappropriate. Anyway, the highlight of purchasing the tickets was that the cashier TOTALLY didn't know I was American. Woohoo! Milestone!
After that I called Marina, which was also exciting, because at the end of our conversation, she said, "I understood everything! Wonderful!" So today's been good so far. After that I came here, posted some stuff and hung out for a bit. I'm going to wrap this post up fairly quickly, though. A couple of us are going to a Georgian restaraunt tonight and I want to go home and drop off my laptop beforehand.
This is our first free weekend, so it's kind of a big deal. There's a banya visit in the works for Sunday. That could be an adventure.
Classes today, as predicted, totally dragged. After classes I went and bought two tickets to a production of Chekhov's "Three Sisters" on the 25th. I'm not 100% sure that Marina's going to use the second ticket, so if not, I think Katie'll take it. Unless she's in Latvia, in which case I'll auction it off to the person who most wants to spend time with me. I almost said, "Spend the night with me" but that would be inappropriate. Anyway, the highlight of purchasing the tickets was that the cashier TOTALLY didn't know I was American. Woohoo! Milestone!
After that I called Marina, which was also exciting, because at the end of our conversation, she said, "I understood everything! Wonderful!" So today's been good so far. After that I came here, posted some stuff and hung out for a bit. I'm going to wrap this post up fairly quickly, though. A couple of us are going to a Georgian restaraunt tonight and I want to go home and drop off my laptop beforehand.
This is our first free weekend, so it's kind of a big deal. There's a banya visit in the works for Sunday. That could be an adventure.
The Walk from Smolny to the Metro
The walk from Smolny to the Metro takes us through Tavriycheski Garden, with the frozen pond. You can see the big Great Dane out on the ice.
This is where I go to school
Just a couple of pictures from the Smolny area. I especially like the first one; the colors are so intense it looks like an illustration.
2-8-07
2-8-07
Today was a short class day, ending at 12:50. I don’t know what it was about today that just made our only two classes just drag on and on. I think since this is our first free weekend, everyone’s just kind of feeling it just over the horizon, and it’s really hard to concentrate.
Tomorrow will be way worse, of course. All of us are always slaphappy in Phonetics class anyway. There’s just something about all of us having to just make noises over and over that always gets us cracking up. Luckily the instructor laughs at us as well, so it’s a fun class and usually goes by pretty quickly. Gazeta drags like nobody’s business, plus we have an undue amount of homework that I need to do tonight. And then, after brown bag lunch, everyone’s least favorite class: Civilization. At least the Area Studies students got to watch White Nights with Gregory Hines. She just sits there and lectures to us. There used to be about 13 people in the class, but it was apparently too big, so now there are only 6 of us. Two people fell asleep last week so she let us go early. At least she understands that Friday afternoon is really the worst possible time to have a class. But still, she doesn’t try to generate debate or discussion. She just goes on and on making sweeping generalizations about Russian and American civilization. Whatever.
I think I’m going to be going to the Russian Museum this weekend, but plans won’t solidify til tomorrow, probably after school at Kolobok while we all sit around with our laptops. I’m afraid of museum burnout, though. We’ll see what happens.
Today after classes we went to CityBar and a few people got online and we had a nice American-style lunch. Ah, tuna melts. After that, Hannah, Hillary, Lael, and I went shoe shopping. Success! I bought boots! I’ll post pictures soon. They’re brown and fur-lined. Marina was super excited when I showed her because I’m sure she’s not convinced that I’m warm enough every day. I’m very excited about them, and I think I’m going to wear them tomorrow. Fun times.
On the Metro ride home, I kept seeing something yellow flash by in my peripheral vision. So when I turned my head to look, I see a little ways down the train there’s a woman with a large (I almost said life-sized…I don’t think that applies in this situation) SpongeBob Squarepants balloon and she’s trying to adjust it so that it won’t get popped. So there’s SpongeBob, bopping around over peoples’ heads. I smiled, at which point everyone around me probably thought, “AMERICAN!”
The last time I cracked up in public like that was when I was waiting for the CIEE bus outside of Cherneshevskaya one morning. I was the first person to arrive (Like always) and I was just inconspicuously people watching. I see a large, beefy military man in full fatigues heading my direction. He stops and turns around, and starts talking and waving his arms like he’s trying to coax someone or something to follow him. A second later, a tiny pug in a sweater follows behind him, far more interested in sniffing everything around him than following anyone. Mr. Military was really not thrilled with being seen in the dog’s company, and kept trying to get it to just hurry up. Luckily, I was not the only person on the street laughing at this. Speaking of dogs, we saw the big Great Dane on the frozen lake again today. I took a picture, but it’s from a distance. I also saw a Newfie this morning the size of a bear.
I’m so excited about my boots! They’re so warm; I might actually wear less thick socks tomorrow! It is supposed to be a little bit warmer. I took pictures of the Smolny campus as well, and pictures from the park we cut through on the way to Cherneshevskaya and Kolobok. I’ll post those tomorrow from Kolobok as well. Maybe we’ll go there so often that they’ll treat us as regulars? Doubt it. I’m going to listen to some music on here, finish my homework, and then play some chess on the computer.
Today was a short class day, ending at 12:50. I don’t know what it was about today that just made our only two classes just drag on and on. I think since this is our first free weekend, everyone’s just kind of feeling it just over the horizon, and it’s really hard to concentrate.
Tomorrow will be way worse, of course. All of us are always slaphappy in Phonetics class anyway. There’s just something about all of us having to just make noises over and over that always gets us cracking up. Luckily the instructor laughs at us as well, so it’s a fun class and usually goes by pretty quickly. Gazeta drags like nobody’s business, plus we have an undue amount of homework that I need to do tonight. And then, after brown bag lunch, everyone’s least favorite class: Civilization. At least the Area Studies students got to watch White Nights with Gregory Hines. She just sits there and lectures to us. There used to be about 13 people in the class, but it was apparently too big, so now there are only 6 of us. Two people fell asleep last week so she let us go early. At least she understands that Friday afternoon is really the worst possible time to have a class. But still, she doesn’t try to generate debate or discussion. She just goes on and on making sweeping generalizations about Russian and American civilization. Whatever.
I think I’m going to be going to the Russian Museum this weekend, but plans won’t solidify til tomorrow, probably after school at Kolobok while we all sit around with our laptops. I’m afraid of museum burnout, though. We’ll see what happens.
Today after classes we went to CityBar and a few people got online and we had a nice American-style lunch. Ah, tuna melts. After that, Hannah, Hillary, Lael, and I went shoe shopping. Success! I bought boots! I’ll post pictures soon. They’re brown and fur-lined. Marina was super excited when I showed her because I’m sure she’s not convinced that I’m warm enough every day. I’m very excited about them, and I think I’m going to wear them tomorrow. Fun times.
On the Metro ride home, I kept seeing something yellow flash by in my peripheral vision. So when I turned my head to look, I see a little ways down the train there’s a woman with a large (I almost said life-sized…I don’t think that applies in this situation) SpongeBob Squarepants balloon and she’s trying to adjust it so that it won’t get popped. So there’s SpongeBob, bopping around over peoples’ heads. I smiled, at which point everyone around me probably thought, “AMERICAN!”
The last time I cracked up in public like that was when I was waiting for the CIEE bus outside of Cherneshevskaya one morning. I was the first person to arrive (Like always) and I was just inconspicuously people watching. I see a large, beefy military man in full fatigues heading my direction. He stops and turns around, and starts talking and waving his arms like he’s trying to coax someone or something to follow him. A second later, a tiny pug in a sweater follows behind him, far more interested in sniffing everything around him than following anyone. Mr. Military was really not thrilled with being seen in the dog’s company, and kept trying to get it to just hurry up. Luckily, I was not the only person on the street laughing at this. Speaking of dogs, we saw the big Great Dane on the frozen lake again today. I took a picture, but it’s from a distance. I also saw a Newfie this morning the size of a bear.
I’m so excited about my boots! They’re so warm; I might actually wear less thick socks tomorrow! It is supposed to be a little bit warmer. I took pictures of the Smolny campus as well, and pictures from the park we cut through on the way to Cherneshevskaya and Kolobok. I’ll post those tomorrow from Kolobok as well. Maybe we’ll go there so often that they’ll treat us as regulars? Doubt it. I’m going to listen to some music on here, finish my homework, and then play some chess on the computer.
2-7-07
2-7-07
You know how sometimes you’ll have an experience that, looking back on it, feels like it’s more dreamlike than reality-based? You’ll think back to it and because it’s so weird the edges of the memory seem blurred like when you’re trying to remember a dream, so there’s no possible way that that memory could be real. Haha, don’t get worried, nothing horrible happened. But it was a pretty terrifying and hilarious situation—both at the same time. I guess that’s what makes it so improbable. I’ll get to that experience in a second.
I made myself a sandwich with my sandwich makings this morning and Marina gave me an actual brown paper bag to brown bag it today. It was a successful experience. I was far more successful in packing my lunch than Hannah, who was running late and just through some pieces of bread, cookies, a package of cheese, and a hunk of sausage into a grocery bag. After our late class (20th Century Russian Literature—I liked it much better when I had it last Spring in the states with Professor Kiziria and she would randomly go off on wild-eyed rants about recycling or televangelists or eHarmony.com), the laptop gang (Me, Hannah, Becky, and Kate) along with laptopless Hillary and Lael went to Kolobok. We hung out there for about two hours, showing each other pictures and the like.
Hannah and Kate left to go to a drawing class, and Hillary left with them to catch the Metro home at about 5:30. At about 6:15 Lael, Becky, and I left. Lael could just walk home, but Becky and I had to take the Metro. The Metro station, Cherneshevskaya (Clocking in at exactly a 3 minute long escalator ride—the current number 1), is about a block and a half from Kolobok. The entry to the station has 6 swinging doors. Only two of them are open, the other four are locked. This means there’s a mass of people in front of the doors, all pushing to get it. And this was a large mass of people. Lael wishes us luck and Becky and I join the mob. We keep looking at each other and laughing about the ridiculousness of the situation. Once people fill in behind us, we really no longer have control over our own movements. We’re just concentrating on not falling, because that’s pretty much the end, right there.
We were a slow, crushing human wave heading toward the door. Imagine how tight your worst claustrophobic nightmare is. Now tighten it. Every part of my body is getting pushed into someone else’s body. Elbows and knees and the corners of bags become weapons. Becky looks to me and says, “There’s a step coming up.” I say, “Don’t trip.” We get to the step; I lift one foot onto it. Then I realize that although I have yet to lift my other foot, I’m on the same level as everyone else. And then I grasp what’s happened—my feet aren’t touching the ground at all. The wave has lifted me completely off of my feet, and now I have absolutely no control over where I’m going. I look over to Becky and we make eye contact again and both start laughing. I look to my right and there’s a taller man next to me who notices Becky and I laughing. He smiles back at us. As we approach the door, my feet now back on the ground, he sticks an arm out and braces himself on the building. This gives me the chance to get inside the door, because before I was being pushed into the wall between doors, not the door itself. Even with this stranger’s help, I still get slammed into the doorframe.
What’s remarkable, though, is how calm it is inside. The line to buy tokens was obscenely short. Of course, the trains were pretty busy, but I was actually able to sit down on the blue line for a couple of stops. What a crazy experience. When I got home, I told Marina how they only had 2 doors open at Cherneshevskaya, and she muttered an “Oy oy oy, terrible terrible.” Then I had mashed potatoes and some nasty fish for dinner. As if dorm food hadn’t made me value Mom’s cooking enough already. Tomorrow we’re going to try someplace new for lunch after school. Should be exciting.
In Conversation class we’re discussing marriage. I learned today that Russians wear their wedding bands on the ring finger of their right hand, as opposed to the American way, which is the left hand. I was able to inform the class that Americans do it this way because the Romans believed that the ring finger of the left hand was connected directly to the heart. Mikhail explained to us why the Russians wear it on the right. To a Russian, the right side of the body is God’s side of the body, and the left side of the body is the Devil’s side of the body. (Hence, when a superstitious Russian sees a black cat, they’ll spit three times over their left shoulder to spit in the face of the Devil.) It’s only logical that the symbol of marriage should be worn on God’s side of the body.
I can’t believe it’s past 8 o’clock already. Time either moves ridiculously fast or ridiculously slow. See, at IU I wouldn’t go to bed until midnight or so, which meant I had plenty of time to have a social life and to do homework. Here, I get tired at like 9:30, which means it’s usually 1. Come home. 2. Eat. 3. Homework. 4. Sleep. If I have a book to read I’ll do that, too. Unfortunately, I have finished my two books from the English language bookstore. I think I’m going to try to trade them tomorrow or Friday for some fresh material. If I finish my homework quickly enough tonight I’ll watch an episode of Voyager or something to get an English fix. Becky’s going to download the episodes of Grey’s Anatomy we’ve missed, and I think Anthony is going to download The Office, and Katie’s going to download Lost. So at some point later in the semester, we’re going to all get together and get caught up.
I’ll take my laptop to school Friday and post this after late classes. So far I have no plans for the weekend, but I kind of want to go to a museum. Either the Russian Museum or the museum with mutated animals. You know, either or. This is a very cultural city.
You know how sometimes you’ll have an experience that, looking back on it, feels like it’s more dreamlike than reality-based? You’ll think back to it and because it’s so weird the edges of the memory seem blurred like when you’re trying to remember a dream, so there’s no possible way that that memory could be real. Haha, don’t get worried, nothing horrible happened. But it was a pretty terrifying and hilarious situation—both at the same time. I guess that’s what makes it so improbable. I’ll get to that experience in a second.
I made myself a sandwich with my sandwich makings this morning and Marina gave me an actual brown paper bag to brown bag it today. It was a successful experience. I was far more successful in packing my lunch than Hannah, who was running late and just through some pieces of bread, cookies, a package of cheese, and a hunk of sausage into a grocery bag. After our late class (20th Century Russian Literature—I liked it much better when I had it last Spring in the states with Professor Kiziria and she would randomly go off on wild-eyed rants about recycling or televangelists or eHarmony.com), the laptop gang (Me, Hannah, Becky, and Kate) along with laptopless Hillary and Lael went to Kolobok. We hung out there for about two hours, showing each other pictures and the like.
Hannah and Kate left to go to a drawing class, and Hillary left with them to catch the Metro home at about 5:30. At about 6:15 Lael, Becky, and I left. Lael could just walk home, but Becky and I had to take the Metro. The Metro station, Cherneshevskaya (Clocking in at exactly a 3 minute long escalator ride—the current number 1), is about a block and a half from Kolobok. The entry to the station has 6 swinging doors. Only two of them are open, the other four are locked. This means there’s a mass of people in front of the doors, all pushing to get it. And this was a large mass of people. Lael wishes us luck and Becky and I join the mob. We keep looking at each other and laughing about the ridiculousness of the situation. Once people fill in behind us, we really no longer have control over our own movements. We’re just concentrating on not falling, because that’s pretty much the end, right there.
We were a slow, crushing human wave heading toward the door. Imagine how tight your worst claustrophobic nightmare is. Now tighten it. Every part of my body is getting pushed into someone else’s body. Elbows and knees and the corners of bags become weapons. Becky looks to me and says, “There’s a step coming up.” I say, “Don’t trip.” We get to the step; I lift one foot onto it. Then I realize that although I have yet to lift my other foot, I’m on the same level as everyone else. And then I grasp what’s happened—my feet aren’t touching the ground at all. The wave has lifted me completely off of my feet, and now I have absolutely no control over where I’m going. I look over to Becky and we make eye contact again and both start laughing. I look to my right and there’s a taller man next to me who notices Becky and I laughing. He smiles back at us. As we approach the door, my feet now back on the ground, he sticks an arm out and braces himself on the building. This gives me the chance to get inside the door, because before I was being pushed into the wall between doors, not the door itself. Even with this stranger’s help, I still get slammed into the doorframe.
What’s remarkable, though, is how calm it is inside. The line to buy tokens was obscenely short. Of course, the trains were pretty busy, but I was actually able to sit down on the blue line for a couple of stops. What a crazy experience. When I got home, I told Marina how they only had 2 doors open at Cherneshevskaya, and she muttered an “Oy oy oy, terrible terrible.” Then I had mashed potatoes and some nasty fish for dinner. As if dorm food hadn’t made me value Mom’s cooking enough already. Tomorrow we’re going to try someplace new for lunch after school. Should be exciting.
In Conversation class we’re discussing marriage. I learned today that Russians wear their wedding bands on the ring finger of their right hand, as opposed to the American way, which is the left hand. I was able to inform the class that Americans do it this way because the Romans believed that the ring finger of the left hand was connected directly to the heart. Mikhail explained to us why the Russians wear it on the right. To a Russian, the right side of the body is God’s side of the body, and the left side of the body is the Devil’s side of the body. (Hence, when a superstitious Russian sees a black cat, they’ll spit three times over their left shoulder to spit in the face of the Devil.) It’s only logical that the symbol of marriage should be worn on God’s side of the body.
I can’t believe it’s past 8 o’clock already. Time either moves ridiculously fast or ridiculously slow. See, at IU I wouldn’t go to bed until midnight or so, which meant I had plenty of time to have a social life and to do homework. Here, I get tired at like 9:30, which means it’s usually 1. Come home. 2. Eat. 3. Homework. 4. Sleep. If I have a book to read I’ll do that, too. Unfortunately, I have finished my two books from the English language bookstore. I think I’m going to try to trade them tomorrow or Friday for some fresh material. If I finish my homework quickly enough tonight I’ll watch an episode of Voyager or something to get an English fix. Becky’s going to download the episodes of Grey’s Anatomy we’ve missed, and I think Anthony is going to download The Office, and Katie’s going to download Lost. So at some point later in the semester, we’re going to all get together and get caught up.
I’ll take my laptop to school Friday and post this after late classes. So far I have no plans for the weekend, but I kind of want to go to a museum. Either the Russian Museum or the museum with mutated animals. You know, either or. This is a very cultural city.
Wednesday, February 7, 2007
2-6-07
2-6-07
One of these days, I swear, I’ll post pictures without posting the same picture twice. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.
So yesterday after I finished writing up that entry and shut down my computer, I checked my email on one of the internet stations. I hung out on that for a while, because no one was in line behind me, and slowly some of the people who’d had afternoon classes trickled in with their laptops. Lo and behold, the internet was working! I think that maybe it turns on at 4 or something. I don’t know, that’s my hypothesis that I’m going to go on. Tomorrow I’ll take this puppy to school and after my late class ends at 3 I’ll head to Kolobok with the other laptop folk for a Coke and some hangout time.
So it’s getting ridiculously cold. Tomorrow it’s supposed to be –25 Celsius. Roughly –18 before wind chill is factored in in Fahrenheit. Thursday and Friday Marina said it could hit –35 Celsius. That’s roughly –28 before Fahrenheit, again before wind-chill. It’s just getting preposterous. I can only layer so much before I am unable to move. Tomorrow I’m thinking it’ll be: Long underwear shirt, long sleeve tee, sweatshirt, two pairs long underwear pants, sock liners, socks, boots, glove liners, gloves, mittens, coat, scarf, hat. And I’m sure even then when I’m standing at the door, about to leave and walking like I’ve got poles in my sleeves and pant legs, Marina will ask me a couple of times if I’m going to be warm enough.
The other adverse effect of the cold is that I’m drying out. I’ve never been a fan of dry skin (Who is?), but during winter, of course, I’d make sure to keep myself moisturized. But even then, in the bitterest of Indiana winters, my hands never felt like this. My hands NEVER get this dry. I’ll be honest; I put my hands through a lot. At one point this summer, I counted and I had a total of 15 paper cuts on my hands from work. But my hands are getting so dry that the skin on my knuckles is cracking so it kind of looks like I’ve been punching a brick wall. The carry-on size Olay lotion that I brought does a semi-adequate job, but it also has glitter in it, which then gets on everything. So today while I was at Diksi (more on that later), I saw some Russian brand hand cream. I figured the Russians know what kind of crap I’m dealing with right now, so their product may be more effective. That logic may be flawed, because there’s a good chance the Russian product is some other country’s product repackaged, but whatever. I’m giving it a shot. It smells nice, and my hands certainly feel better.
My eyes burn after walking outside because they get so dry. Becky told me that on her way to school this morning her eyes started watering because of the wind, and then her tears froze on her face. One of the Matts came to school with an ice goatee. I asked Marina during dinner when it was supposed to get warmer, expecting her to say, “Oh, this weekend it’ll be a little warmer” or “Next week it won’t be so bad.” Instead, her answer: March. Faaaaantastic.
The highlight of today was receiving the letter Mom sent me back on January 22nd with clippings from the Journal-Gazette’s coverage of the Colts beating the Patriots and a couple of IU games. So that means it took a little over two weeks to get here. I guess that means if you’re going to send me a letter (No packages, they’ll get here in June), don’t send it after the last week of April.
After classes Becky, Hannah, Hillary, Lael and I went to the Chainaya Lozhka (Tea Spoon) restaurant near the Metro. It’s a chain fast food place with tasty, tasty blini. We sat around in there for like an hour after we finished our food, discussing the trip to Novgorod, weddings (Hillary’s sister is getting married the same day as Emily), and trying to read fortunes in tea cups.
Then we got on the Metro and went to a stop we’d never been to before because Becky had seen an ad that said right next to the station was St. Petersburg’s largest shoe store. We all kind of want new, warmer boots. Instead of being one giant shoe store, it was a three-story building filled only with shoe stores. We spent a good two hours there. The boots that I liked the most were, of course, the most expensive. I tried on some cheaper boots in a different store. But my arches are far too high for them to be anywhere near comfortable. I know you really don’t care about how many pairs of boots I tried on, but the exciting part of the experience was that I actually experienced customer service! The idea of “customer service” has, for the most part, bypassed this entire country. Cashiers sullenly and silently stare at you as you walk around. Then when you actually buy something they’ll mumble things to you that even if you were completely fluent in Russian there’s no way you would understand. Then, when you ask politely what they said, they’ll just kind of roll their eyes in a “Never mind” fashion. But today! Today was different! We were in the big store on the third floor. It was kind of like a DSW, the boxes with different sizes of the shoes on the shelves were all accessible, so, in theory, the entire trying on process could be self-service. So I was going to try on a pair when I was approached by an associate who then got the boots for me and unzipped them and whatnot. And then when I needed a size larger, she bopped over to the shelf and got them for me. I kind of felt bad for not buying them. Maybe that was her plan all along.
I’ll admit, it was a little embarrassing to take off my smelly, utilitarian black boots to reveal SmartWool socks and the bottoms of my long underwear. Becky and Hannah bought bags and Hillary bought gloves and not a single one of us bought any kind of footwear.
This place was on the yellow line, and I could’ve taken the yellow line all the way down to where it intersects with the blue line (my line), and then change and go back up to my island. But the yellow line also has stops on my island. I got off with Hillary at her stop. She’s one of the other two girls who live on the island (Claire’s like 5 minutes away from me and uses the same stop that I do), and it’s about a 20-minute walk from her station down Bolshaya to my apartment. I stopped about a third of the way there and went into a Diksi mini-market. You see, for the first two weeks CIEE paid for our lunches at the cafeteria at Smolny, but that’s over now. So on the days when I have afternoon classes (Usually Monday and Friday, but one of our teachers is in Austria for two weeks and the teacher taking over here isn’t available Monday, so for the next two weeks it’s Wednesday and Friday), I only have 50 minutes for lunch. This is not enough time to leave the campus to buy something. Solution: Brown bag it! So I bought some juice boxes, cookies, little bags of pistachios, a loaf of bread, sliced salami, and sliced cheese. I’ll just make myself a sandwich in the morning and then take that and eat it. It’s a little elementary school, I know. Juice boxes make me feel like I’m about 15 years younger, but I love apple juice and while skim milk is available, it’s not available in a convenient portable container. We’ll see how tomorrow, Sandwich Day 1, goes.
I mentioned in my last post that I wanted to time the Metro station escalators. So far I’ve timed three: Petrogradskaya, Staraya Derevnya, and Chklakovskaya (I think that’s how it’s spelled? It’s Hillary’s usual stop, not mine). So far the longest is Staraya Derevnya, clocking in at 2 minutes, 50 seconds. That’s a long time to just be standing there. I’d love to take pictures of it, but cameras are banned inside the Metro stations and the scary police with their automatic weapons look like they’re the sorts of folk with whom it’s best not to trifle.
So. Tomorrow. Me. Kolobok. It’s a date.
One of these days, I swear, I’ll post pictures without posting the same picture twice. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.
So yesterday after I finished writing up that entry and shut down my computer, I checked my email on one of the internet stations. I hung out on that for a while, because no one was in line behind me, and slowly some of the people who’d had afternoon classes trickled in with their laptops. Lo and behold, the internet was working! I think that maybe it turns on at 4 or something. I don’t know, that’s my hypothesis that I’m going to go on. Tomorrow I’ll take this puppy to school and after my late class ends at 3 I’ll head to Kolobok with the other laptop folk for a Coke and some hangout time.
So it’s getting ridiculously cold. Tomorrow it’s supposed to be –25 Celsius. Roughly –18 before wind chill is factored in in Fahrenheit. Thursday and Friday Marina said it could hit –35 Celsius. That’s roughly –28 before Fahrenheit, again before wind-chill. It’s just getting preposterous. I can only layer so much before I am unable to move. Tomorrow I’m thinking it’ll be: Long underwear shirt, long sleeve tee, sweatshirt, two pairs long underwear pants, sock liners, socks, boots, glove liners, gloves, mittens, coat, scarf, hat. And I’m sure even then when I’m standing at the door, about to leave and walking like I’ve got poles in my sleeves and pant legs, Marina will ask me a couple of times if I’m going to be warm enough.
The other adverse effect of the cold is that I’m drying out. I’ve never been a fan of dry skin (Who is?), but during winter, of course, I’d make sure to keep myself moisturized. But even then, in the bitterest of Indiana winters, my hands never felt like this. My hands NEVER get this dry. I’ll be honest; I put my hands through a lot. At one point this summer, I counted and I had a total of 15 paper cuts on my hands from work. But my hands are getting so dry that the skin on my knuckles is cracking so it kind of looks like I’ve been punching a brick wall. The carry-on size Olay lotion that I brought does a semi-adequate job, but it also has glitter in it, which then gets on everything. So today while I was at Diksi (more on that later), I saw some Russian brand hand cream. I figured the Russians know what kind of crap I’m dealing with right now, so their product may be more effective. That logic may be flawed, because there’s a good chance the Russian product is some other country’s product repackaged, but whatever. I’m giving it a shot. It smells nice, and my hands certainly feel better.
My eyes burn after walking outside because they get so dry. Becky told me that on her way to school this morning her eyes started watering because of the wind, and then her tears froze on her face. One of the Matts came to school with an ice goatee. I asked Marina during dinner when it was supposed to get warmer, expecting her to say, “Oh, this weekend it’ll be a little warmer” or “Next week it won’t be so bad.” Instead, her answer: March. Faaaaantastic.
The highlight of today was receiving the letter Mom sent me back on January 22nd with clippings from the Journal-Gazette’s coverage of the Colts beating the Patriots and a couple of IU games. So that means it took a little over two weeks to get here. I guess that means if you’re going to send me a letter (No packages, they’ll get here in June), don’t send it after the last week of April.
After classes Becky, Hannah, Hillary, Lael and I went to the Chainaya Lozhka (Tea Spoon) restaurant near the Metro. It’s a chain fast food place with tasty, tasty blini. We sat around in there for like an hour after we finished our food, discussing the trip to Novgorod, weddings (Hillary’s sister is getting married the same day as Emily), and trying to read fortunes in tea cups.
Then we got on the Metro and went to a stop we’d never been to before because Becky had seen an ad that said right next to the station was St. Petersburg’s largest shoe store. We all kind of want new, warmer boots. Instead of being one giant shoe store, it was a three-story building filled only with shoe stores. We spent a good two hours there. The boots that I liked the most were, of course, the most expensive. I tried on some cheaper boots in a different store. But my arches are far too high for them to be anywhere near comfortable. I know you really don’t care about how many pairs of boots I tried on, but the exciting part of the experience was that I actually experienced customer service! The idea of “customer service” has, for the most part, bypassed this entire country. Cashiers sullenly and silently stare at you as you walk around. Then when you actually buy something they’ll mumble things to you that even if you were completely fluent in Russian there’s no way you would understand. Then, when you ask politely what they said, they’ll just kind of roll their eyes in a “Never mind” fashion. But today! Today was different! We were in the big store on the third floor. It was kind of like a DSW, the boxes with different sizes of the shoes on the shelves were all accessible, so, in theory, the entire trying on process could be self-service. So I was going to try on a pair when I was approached by an associate who then got the boots for me and unzipped them and whatnot. And then when I needed a size larger, she bopped over to the shelf and got them for me. I kind of felt bad for not buying them. Maybe that was her plan all along.
I’ll admit, it was a little embarrassing to take off my smelly, utilitarian black boots to reveal SmartWool socks and the bottoms of my long underwear. Becky and Hannah bought bags and Hillary bought gloves and not a single one of us bought any kind of footwear.
This place was on the yellow line, and I could’ve taken the yellow line all the way down to where it intersects with the blue line (my line), and then change and go back up to my island. But the yellow line also has stops on my island. I got off with Hillary at her stop. She’s one of the other two girls who live on the island (Claire’s like 5 minutes away from me and uses the same stop that I do), and it’s about a 20-minute walk from her station down Bolshaya to my apartment. I stopped about a third of the way there and went into a Diksi mini-market. You see, for the first two weeks CIEE paid for our lunches at the cafeteria at Smolny, but that’s over now. So on the days when I have afternoon classes (Usually Monday and Friday, but one of our teachers is in Austria for two weeks and the teacher taking over here isn’t available Monday, so for the next two weeks it’s Wednesday and Friday), I only have 50 minutes for lunch. This is not enough time to leave the campus to buy something. Solution: Brown bag it! So I bought some juice boxes, cookies, little bags of pistachios, a loaf of bread, sliced salami, and sliced cheese. I’ll just make myself a sandwich in the morning and then take that and eat it. It’s a little elementary school, I know. Juice boxes make me feel like I’m about 15 years younger, but I love apple juice and while skim milk is available, it’s not available in a convenient portable container. We’ll see how tomorrow, Sandwich Day 1, goes.
I mentioned in my last post that I wanted to time the Metro station escalators. So far I’ve timed three: Petrogradskaya, Staraya Derevnya, and Chklakovskaya (I think that’s how it’s spelled? It’s Hillary’s usual stop, not mine). So far the longest is Staraya Derevnya, clocking in at 2 minutes, 50 seconds. That’s a long time to just be standing there. I’d love to take pictures of it, but cameras are banned inside the Metro stations and the scary police with their automatic weapons look like they’re the sorts of folk with whom it’s best not to trifle.
So. Tomorrow. Me. Kolobok. It’s a date.
Monday, February 5, 2007
2-5-07 (Obscenely long)
2-5-07
The Colts won the Super Bowl. The Colts won the Super Bowl. The Colts won the Super Bowl. THE COLTS WON THE SUPER BOWL! I found out this morning from the one guy in the program who stayed up all night and watched it at a friend’s apartment. Right now, I’d love to be reading article after article online about how Peyton and the boys triumphed in sloppy conditions. But alas, Kolobok has, once again, decided not to have its WiFi operating. So I’m just sitting here, typing away with no internet. Our class this afternoon got moved to Wednesday afternoon. I’m going to wait here for the people that did have an afternoon class. That means I’ve got about an hour to sit here and look busy. I had lunch with Katie and then some cake. Katie’s studying for her grammar quiz tomorrow and making sure I don’t look suspicious, sitting in a corner all alone.
Haha, I typed my last entry less than 24 hours ago so not a lot is happening right now. That means there’s not a whole lot to report. Right now the most exciting issue I’m grappling with is whether I should try the café near my house later tonight after dinner, even though last time I was there the WiFi didn’t work.
Dangit, Katie’s leaving. I’m going to move into the other room, maybe there’s a signal in there.
No. What is Kolobok’s deal? I’m going to be here for another hour. Maybe they’ll, like, turn it on at 3 o’clock or something. I’d just give up now, but I’m charging Hillary’s iPod Shuffle for her and she’s in an afternoon class so I’m going to meet her here to return it.
Kolobok has like three guys in suits with nametags that just kind of wander around. I guess they’re security? I kind of want to ask the guy, “Why is the internet not working?” But of course, even if he did have an answer, I probably wouldn’t understand the entirety of it. So I don’t think it’s worth it. It’s not like the place is super busy, there are a lot of empty seats. Looks like we might need to find a new after-school hangout with free WiFi. CityBar has free WiFi with purchase of food, so maybe we’ll try that tomorrow. I’d kind of like to consult with everyone else with laptops first, though, so I’m not the only one with a laptop and then I’m alone in hauling it to CityBar.
I really wish there was more to talk about. It’s pretty preposterous that I’m here in a foreign country, looking out on a street no one I know back home would recognize, watching the snow fly past horizontally and the tiny cars slog through sludge and yet I still cannot find anything that I think would be worth writing about. I guess it’s one of those things where, to me, the little everyday things here that I’ve begun to just accept and not think about are things that are foreign to the people reading this.
I could, for example, take the time to describe the absolutely nasty composition of the sludge that’s created from the constant snow and the constant dust that gathers on the roads and sidewalks, but I feel that it’s not worth it to take the time to present this as thought it’s something exciting that I’m dealing with, when in reality I don’t even think about it anymore.
My thoughts on this blog are really torn between thinking of it as, “You’re coming home to America at the end of every day in St. Petersburg, what’re the things worth telling your roommates and family?” and instead thinking, “Record all the minute details of life in this foreign country and report them to people who have never been there and will never go.” I suppose it’s times like these, as I just sit in Kolobok with nothing to do for at least the next 40 minutes that I think that recording the most minute of experiences would be worthwhile. At the end of long, tiring days (See: Yesterday), I’m tempted to just report the major events and skim over, if not skip entirely, the rest.
Hahaha, I suppose the other option would be that I could just sit here and look out the window and write down everything I see. That would probably be the lamest thing in the world. That would be the post that people would start to read and think, “Nevermind.” Although, speaking of things out the window, a yellow lab on a walk just went by and he had cute little red and blue booties on. For such small apartments here, I’ve seen a surprising number of large dogs. Example: In the past week I have seen two absolutely cow-sized Great Danes. One was last night outside the bus window and the other was a week ago as we walked to the Metro station from school and stopped in the park to play on the frozen pond. The one on the lake had a blanket draped over his back that really, really increased his horse-like appearance.
That’s not to say that there aren’t small dogs. On the contrary, they’re ubiquitous. In purses, on leashes, dressed in sweaters, and one that I swear was in a child’s snowsuit. It looked warm but incredibly unhappy. Of course, there’s also a ridiculous amount of strays. Out on the other island there are allegedly parts where the wild dogs roam in packs. When they can, they get into the Metro stations and sleep where it’s warm. For the most part, they’re friendly. I have yet to run into a mean stray but I’m not naïve enough to assume that they don’t exist.
A Cadillac Escalade pickup truck just parked very badly in front of the café. It’s like no one here ever took driver’s ed. Or for that matter, had to pass any kind of test to get a driver’s license. If I were able to get online right now, I’d look that up. It’s in the CIEE rules that students aren’t allowed to drive while on the program. I don’t see why anyone would ever WANT to. There are no lanes. THERE ARE NO LANES. There are lines that one would assume marked some sort of lane, but they’re not really lanes. The number of lanes exists only as the number of cars that can be squeezed into a given area. (Aw, there goes the lab with booties again. Adorable!) The drive in the CIEE van from the Metro station to school in the morning is terrifying. I just don’t really pay attention to the way we swerve around. Of course, traffic is further complicated by the fact that the roads are all covered with snow. I’ve seen plows before, but really since the snow is falling and blowing all day long, the roads are constantly dangerous.
That’s why so many people take public transportation. But the Metro itself is no picnic. Yeah, sure, it’s convenient (Most of the time. The closest Metro station to Smolny is a half hour’s walk away) and the most efficient means of getting from A to B in many cases, but when it’s busy it’s hell. Lots of tired, smelly people getting crammed into little metal cans and then speeding along under rivers and bouncing into each other is generally not my idea of a good time. When it’s not peak hours, it’s not bad at all. I can sit down; have some personal space, not get pushed into and out of the cars. While the St. Petersburg Metro stations don’t compare to the beautiful stations in Moscow (So I’ve seen in pictures, I’ll see for myself in March), a couple of the stations are absolutely gorgeous. It’s times like these when I forgive the Metro its sins, from smelly mean people and dogs sleeping outside to drunken guys outside and the crunch to get onto the 5-minute long escalator ride. Okay, maybe it’s not that long. I’ll time it today. It’s really hard to find things to do when you’re just standing there for so long. Some people sit down, that’s how long of a trip down it is. I usually space out. In the morning I’m not awake enough to do anything worthwhile, like read, and at the end of the day I’m just burnt out.
I’m really looking forward to the days getting longer. I’m leaving here on May 13th, so I won’t really be here for the White Nights of summer, but the days will be plenty long by that point. It’ll be nice to walk to the Metro in the morning when there’s actually sun, and it’ll be nice to return home when it’s still light out. Of course, it would also be nice to see the sun right now, when it’s technically day. While the first week or so I was here was filled with sunny, blue-skied days, the past week and a half it’s snowed every day, leaving St. Petersburg under an everlasting grey blanket, and the light from the sun is so distorted and indirect it feels like it’s coming from another room, through frosted glass. It’s like the sun is actually shining on Western Europe, but there’s so much crap in between here and there that by the time the light gets to us it’s lost its luminescence and barely provides the citizens of the city with the light to see where they’re going. The snow helps, reflecting what little light there is and covering up the dirtiest parts of the city.
But right now we’re slowly, slowly turning the corner and the days will get longer and the snow will melt and even though the dirty parts will be visible again, it’ll be bright enough that no one will even notice. I’m looking forward to that. I am not, however, looking forward to icicles. Icicles falling from eaves here are actually a gigantic health problem, injuring and even killing people every year when they fall. Hopefully, by that point, the weather will be clear so the blue skies will give me a reason to look up, and I’ll be able to stop any icicles of death before they hit me.
Considering how little snow we’d had back in Indiana. You’d think I’d be relishing the fact that it keeps constantly snowing here. On the contrary, it’s driving me crazy. The snow isn’t really enjoyable right now. In the parks it’s great, we have a chance to actually enjoy it. But just out on the street, where I am more often than not (Just walking, not like hanging out on corners or anything), the snow just makes your feet hurt from walking on a constantly shifting surface. It gets your boots filthy, and it blows into your face and stings like hell. These are not big friendly flakes, slowly drifting down and staying on your nose and eyelashes. These are little gnats that feel like they’re made from glass or steel, flying right at you horizontally. It’s not pleasant.
Okay, Hillary will either be here soon, or she won’t. I’ve got about an hour of battery life left, but it’s really not worth it to just hang around. I have blog entries dating back to the 29th of January though, so I really need to get online soon. I’m going to have to try my best into talking other people into going to CityBar tomorrow. Haha, the length of this post is absurd, especially considering the fact that it’s really about nothing. Kolobok’s almost deserted, but it has two internet stations, and I’ll use one to check my email once I shut this puppy down. Plus, if no one’s behind me waiting in line, I’ll just read articles about the Super Bowl for a while. That would warm me up on the coldest of St. Petersburg days.
THE COLTS WON THE SUPER BOWL.
The Colts won the Super Bowl. The Colts won the Super Bowl. The Colts won the Super Bowl. THE COLTS WON THE SUPER BOWL! I found out this morning from the one guy in the program who stayed up all night and watched it at a friend’s apartment. Right now, I’d love to be reading article after article online about how Peyton and the boys triumphed in sloppy conditions. But alas, Kolobok has, once again, decided not to have its WiFi operating. So I’m just sitting here, typing away with no internet. Our class this afternoon got moved to Wednesday afternoon. I’m going to wait here for the people that did have an afternoon class. That means I’ve got about an hour to sit here and look busy. I had lunch with Katie and then some cake. Katie’s studying for her grammar quiz tomorrow and making sure I don’t look suspicious, sitting in a corner all alone.
Haha, I typed my last entry less than 24 hours ago so not a lot is happening right now. That means there’s not a whole lot to report. Right now the most exciting issue I’m grappling with is whether I should try the café near my house later tonight after dinner, even though last time I was there the WiFi didn’t work.
Dangit, Katie’s leaving. I’m going to move into the other room, maybe there’s a signal in there.
No. What is Kolobok’s deal? I’m going to be here for another hour. Maybe they’ll, like, turn it on at 3 o’clock or something. I’d just give up now, but I’m charging Hillary’s iPod Shuffle for her and she’s in an afternoon class so I’m going to meet her here to return it.
Kolobok has like three guys in suits with nametags that just kind of wander around. I guess they’re security? I kind of want to ask the guy, “Why is the internet not working?” But of course, even if he did have an answer, I probably wouldn’t understand the entirety of it. So I don’t think it’s worth it. It’s not like the place is super busy, there are a lot of empty seats. Looks like we might need to find a new after-school hangout with free WiFi. CityBar has free WiFi with purchase of food, so maybe we’ll try that tomorrow. I’d kind of like to consult with everyone else with laptops first, though, so I’m not the only one with a laptop and then I’m alone in hauling it to CityBar.
I really wish there was more to talk about. It’s pretty preposterous that I’m here in a foreign country, looking out on a street no one I know back home would recognize, watching the snow fly past horizontally and the tiny cars slog through sludge and yet I still cannot find anything that I think would be worth writing about. I guess it’s one of those things where, to me, the little everyday things here that I’ve begun to just accept and not think about are things that are foreign to the people reading this.
I could, for example, take the time to describe the absolutely nasty composition of the sludge that’s created from the constant snow and the constant dust that gathers on the roads and sidewalks, but I feel that it’s not worth it to take the time to present this as thought it’s something exciting that I’m dealing with, when in reality I don’t even think about it anymore.
My thoughts on this blog are really torn between thinking of it as, “You’re coming home to America at the end of every day in St. Petersburg, what’re the things worth telling your roommates and family?” and instead thinking, “Record all the minute details of life in this foreign country and report them to people who have never been there and will never go.” I suppose it’s times like these, as I just sit in Kolobok with nothing to do for at least the next 40 minutes that I think that recording the most minute of experiences would be worthwhile. At the end of long, tiring days (See: Yesterday), I’m tempted to just report the major events and skim over, if not skip entirely, the rest.
Hahaha, I suppose the other option would be that I could just sit here and look out the window and write down everything I see. That would probably be the lamest thing in the world. That would be the post that people would start to read and think, “Nevermind.” Although, speaking of things out the window, a yellow lab on a walk just went by and he had cute little red and blue booties on. For such small apartments here, I’ve seen a surprising number of large dogs. Example: In the past week I have seen two absolutely cow-sized Great Danes. One was last night outside the bus window and the other was a week ago as we walked to the Metro station from school and stopped in the park to play on the frozen pond. The one on the lake had a blanket draped over his back that really, really increased his horse-like appearance.
That’s not to say that there aren’t small dogs. On the contrary, they’re ubiquitous. In purses, on leashes, dressed in sweaters, and one that I swear was in a child’s snowsuit. It looked warm but incredibly unhappy. Of course, there’s also a ridiculous amount of strays. Out on the other island there are allegedly parts where the wild dogs roam in packs. When they can, they get into the Metro stations and sleep where it’s warm. For the most part, they’re friendly. I have yet to run into a mean stray but I’m not naïve enough to assume that they don’t exist.
A Cadillac Escalade pickup truck just parked very badly in front of the café. It’s like no one here ever took driver’s ed. Or for that matter, had to pass any kind of test to get a driver’s license. If I were able to get online right now, I’d look that up. It’s in the CIEE rules that students aren’t allowed to drive while on the program. I don’t see why anyone would ever WANT to. There are no lanes. THERE ARE NO LANES. There are lines that one would assume marked some sort of lane, but they’re not really lanes. The number of lanes exists only as the number of cars that can be squeezed into a given area. (Aw, there goes the lab with booties again. Adorable!) The drive in the CIEE van from the Metro station to school in the morning is terrifying. I just don’t really pay attention to the way we swerve around. Of course, traffic is further complicated by the fact that the roads are all covered with snow. I’ve seen plows before, but really since the snow is falling and blowing all day long, the roads are constantly dangerous.
That’s why so many people take public transportation. But the Metro itself is no picnic. Yeah, sure, it’s convenient (Most of the time. The closest Metro station to Smolny is a half hour’s walk away) and the most efficient means of getting from A to B in many cases, but when it’s busy it’s hell. Lots of tired, smelly people getting crammed into little metal cans and then speeding along under rivers and bouncing into each other is generally not my idea of a good time. When it’s not peak hours, it’s not bad at all. I can sit down; have some personal space, not get pushed into and out of the cars. While the St. Petersburg Metro stations don’t compare to the beautiful stations in Moscow (So I’ve seen in pictures, I’ll see for myself in March), a couple of the stations are absolutely gorgeous. It’s times like these when I forgive the Metro its sins, from smelly mean people and dogs sleeping outside to drunken guys outside and the crunch to get onto the 5-minute long escalator ride. Okay, maybe it’s not that long. I’ll time it today. It’s really hard to find things to do when you’re just standing there for so long. Some people sit down, that’s how long of a trip down it is. I usually space out. In the morning I’m not awake enough to do anything worthwhile, like read, and at the end of the day I’m just burnt out.
I’m really looking forward to the days getting longer. I’m leaving here on May 13th, so I won’t really be here for the White Nights of summer, but the days will be plenty long by that point. It’ll be nice to walk to the Metro in the morning when there’s actually sun, and it’ll be nice to return home when it’s still light out. Of course, it would also be nice to see the sun right now, when it’s technically day. While the first week or so I was here was filled with sunny, blue-skied days, the past week and a half it’s snowed every day, leaving St. Petersburg under an everlasting grey blanket, and the light from the sun is so distorted and indirect it feels like it’s coming from another room, through frosted glass. It’s like the sun is actually shining on Western Europe, but there’s so much crap in between here and there that by the time the light gets to us it’s lost its luminescence and barely provides the citizens of the city with the light to see where they’re going. The snow helps, reflecting what little light there is and covering up the dirtiest parts of the city.
But right now we’re slowly, slowly turning the corner and the days will get longer and the snow will melt and even though the dirty parts will be visible again, it’ll be bright enough that no one will even notice. I’m looking forward to that. I am not, however, looking forward to icicles. Icicles falling from eaves here are actually a gigantic health problem, injuring and even killing people every year when they fall. Hopefully, by that point, the weather will be clear so the blue skies will give me a reason to look up, and I’ll be able to stop any icicles of death before they hit me.
Considering how little snow we’d had back in Indiana. You’d think I’d be relishing the fact that it keeps constantly snowing here. On the contrary, it’s driving me crazy. The snow isn’t really enjoyable right now. In the parks it’s great, we have a chance to actually enjoy it. But just out on the street, where I am more often than not (Just walking, not like hanging out on corners or anything), the snow just makes your feet hurt from walking on a constantly shifting surface. It gets your boots filthy, and it blows into your face and stings like hell. These are not big friendly flakes, slowly drifting down and staying on your nose and eyelashes. These are little gnats that feel like they’re made from glass or steel, flying right at you horizontally. It’s not pleasant.
Okay, Hillary will either be here soon, or she won’t. I’ve got about an hour of battery life left, but it’s really not worth it to just hang around. I have blog entries dating back to the 29th of January though, so I really need to get online soon. I’m going to have to try my best into talking other people into going to CityBar tomorrow. Haha, the length of this post is absurd, especially considering the fact that it’s really about nothing. Kolobok’s almost deserted, but it has two internet stations, and I’ll use one to check my email once I shut this puppy down. Plus, if no one’s behind me waiting in line, I’ll just read articles about the Super Bowl for a while. That would warm me up on the coldest of St. Petersburg days.
THE COLTS WON THE SUPER BOWL.
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