So I've been getting the complaint of "You don't post any pictures!" too frequently lately, so I set up my Picasa account. It's unorganized (right now) and has pretty much every picture I've taken so far in Russia (save for the incriminating ones) this past month.
Wow, it's been a month already. Sheesh.
In other news, I'm deciding whether or not to stay the year here. I'm leaning towards 'yes'. The pros outweigh the cons, and if not now, when would I ever have this chance again? Pretty much never. Four months is just not enough.
So, check out my pictures! They're on the new link that says "My Pictures" on the top menu portion in red.
It's been about two weeks since I've updated, and I can safely say that I've become more acclimated to my life in Russia.
I wake up every morning to five alarms, because, well, if you know me, you know I'm the world's worst morning person. I need five alarms going off in ten minute intervals to start my day. Ridiculous, I know. Regardless, this is how I wake up. I then have a rushed breakfast, usually either of blini, omelet, or muesli, and some tea that's usually too hot to finish before I have to run out the door to catch the marshrutka.
Oh, the marshrutka. One of my favorite parts of the day. In my opinion, it's the most aggressive form of transport in the city. It requires you to be aggressive, interact with people, and speak in Russian--all fun things! It also has a strange sense of community to it. You're basically jammed on a small express bus with far too many people standing far too close to each other. Personal space is not really recognized in Russia. You have to pass people's money to the front where the driver, who's driving and recklessly so, gives you change that you have to pass back. No one pockets it, and the bus doesn't crash. Typically. Also, you have to know your stop and know when to scream it (if your in the back), or at least ask the driver kindly if you happen to be in the front. A good time is had by all. I consider it to be a good morning if the person next to me doesn't reek of body odor.
From there, I'm dropped off at Kazanskii Sobor on Nevski Prospekt, one of the great landmarks of Saint Petersburg. My school is conveniently located right behind it. I have to walk to the dorm and into the middle courtyard (which is awesome because who has three rusted bathtubs in the middle of a garden? Hell yes), then into the Russian Language for Foreigners area. I'm here from 9:40-3:00 every day.
The rest is up to chance since I like to keep myself occupied. However, that's my typical day. Rita, my host mom (she despises this title and we've decided that we're more like roomies, tee hee), cooks like a dream and knows how to have a damn good time. I've come to really like her and it almost feels like home. We sit, drink tea, bitch and moan about life, the universe, and everything. Sometimes there's alcohol involved, but when you factor that in things always get kicked up a notch in terms of conversation topics. She's a feisty one, that Rita.
I've had yet another wonderful encounter with Russians, this time at a pub across the street from Kazanskii called The Tower Pub. The food was barely edible, but there was beer. Kendall, my friend from school, was there with her friends from Moscow and we proceeded to party until 7AM. This is considered normal here considering the bridges that connect all the islands of Saint Petersburg go up at midnight for trading purposes, and all public transport closes at the same time. So if you want to go out, you stay out. And boy, do people stay out.
We met two guys from a nearby table and eventually invited them to join us. They were hilarious individuals-- both married (or I think nearly married?) and one of them with a kid. One of them, Lyosha, was from Germany but of Russian descent, and the other, Misha, was from Vladivostok, which is literally on the other side of the world in terms of Russian geography. We talked for hours about film, politics, business, and all other topics. What was shocking was the fact that at the end of the night they paid our entire tab-- even the tab we raked up before they got to our table. They were absolutely amazing. I had to argue with them because it was too big of a gesture for me to handle. Their response?
"You American women don't know how to take gestures. It's the Russian way for men to pay for women-- Don't argue with us!"
While that sounds harsh, it was said in the sweetest way possible, haha. The other guys from our group, whom they also paid for (so it wasn't just women), treated them to a beer. Now I could go on for hours about how this is an example sexism in Russia, but I find these truths to be self evident (ba-dum-ch).
I've never had a weirder hangover than from that night. Man.
Moving on. Reflections on Saint Petersburg. Damn beautiful city, really, and I'm lucky enough to view the Neva and all the beautiful buildings on it every day when I go to and from school. The golden domes glistening in the bleak, pink setting sun makes it feel otherworldly. Everything about this city can be summed up as a "terrible beauty"-- but I think the same can be said for Russia itself. There's a sense of tragedy and passion in the city. A sense that they have just realized that they can have a destiny and an individual purpose. However, it's a muted realization, I think.
I'm reminded of Radiohead lyrics from the song Nude:
"Don't get any big ideas
They're not gonna happen
You paint your smile
And fill the holes
There'll be something missing
Just when you found it
It's gone
Just when you feel it
You don't
It's gone forever"
I recently read an article in one of the arts magazines here about the dying high culture of going to the theatre, which is a huge part of Saint Petersburg life and history. The author described average Saint Petersburger as "Saint Petersburg moths"-- and the image has stuck with me. Something about it rings true, even though I may have some trouble justifying the term, just as the author might. These tall, beautiful, pale people walking around in dark colors and leather, hurrying towards the next big, brightest thing that might titillate their senses. Moths. It's not a criticism by any means, seeing as how I come from the motherland of consumerist titillation.
The city is dirty. People spit, the air pollution is so horrible that it almost justifies smoking, and there's often a pretty rank odor around the streets. Maybe it's me. Haha. No, seriously, it reeks pretty often. It's weird how much I don't care about that, though. It's nearly impossible to remain clean, so a shower a day is necessary. By the way, the water? Don't swallow it. Unless you want to have a new friend shacking up in your stomach named Giardia Lamblia. That's such a pretty name, isn't it? Giardia.
There are some things in life that I will never write about, but I almost feel like I have to write about not writing about them. I'm silly. But there are some experiences that you can never do justice, especially on a public blog. The other day was such an experience for me, and to describe it would be to cheapen it. It's just the experience was so huge that to not acknowledge its occurence would also be akin to a sin. I'm still overwhelmed.
Losing a person while your abroad is difficult. I lost my dear friend, Augustine, two days ago to a heart attack. The only reason I'll even post this is because I truly believe that you best respect the dead out of remembrance, and his loss is felt so deeply in me. Even if you didn't know him, I just want everyone to know how amazing he was. Everything I could possibly say about him and what kind of person he was is summarized by our mutual friend, Helene:
"Augustine was sweet and calm and mild mannered yet still snarky, and witty, and always clever. Undoubtedly, he was one of the smartest people I have ever met. In fact, he prided himself on knowing everything and anything and acting cocky about it was a huge part of his personality. He was more than willing to take a joke about his pompousness, too, which made him all the more likable.
The other thing that made him so likable was that he was so diverse and could related to anyone. He could talk for hours about philosophy while simultaneously making a reference to Friends or even Gossip Girl and then he would wait to see if someone caught it. He was always so excited when someone else knew the obscure movie quote or song quote he had dropped. You had to be on your game with him because talking to him could be like talking in code.
I think what made Augustine so special, however, was his attention to every detail in the lives of his friends. He always knew when to check in and what questions to ask. He would be the first to congratulate something good and to offer support when things went bad. Maybe he was just overly attentive to Facebook, but he kind of had a sixth sense about these things and he always wanted to know how his friends were doing.
He would get excited about the smallest, most mundane things, which would get those around him excited as well. It's so cliche, but he really loved life and he relished every experience. Every meal, tennis match, tv show, trivia night at the bar."
I admired and respected this man. I stand behind every sentence Helene wrote with 100% certainty. The man was a true, caring friend and helped me with so many things in my life. He had a heart of gold and was always aware of everything around him. The world is a shittier without him.
I still just want to call him, to hear his voice, and gossip until morning about our lives. I'll miss the drunken phone calls and the inappropriate digs. I'll miss the unabashed honesty. I'll miss you Auggo. You were something special in this world.
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- Serious Business
The nights are the hardest here, since it's the silence that typically does me in. After the frenzy of finding my way around the city, catching up with friends from the group, doing my homework, and letting the Russian seep into every aspect of my being, the silence in my room, in the dark, is the hardest part of my day. I can't seem to get to sleep, which is stressful in itself considering how well you do really does rely on how rested you are.
I feel as though I haven't given myself the pause to really reflect on being in Russia. It's those little epiphanies that happen every day that register like little pleasurable jolts throughout my body that keep me grounded. After seeing the city light up at nine on the dot or zoning into conversations people are having on the bus, I think to myself, "Wow, I'm here. I'm actually in Russia."
My host mom and I immediately hit it off as I thought we would. Sometimes I'll look back on our conversations, remembering the flow, the tone, and the humor and suddenly realize that none of it was in English. Negotiating with her in Russian and simply being myself in another language, though my grasp of it is minimal, is so fulfilling. Every day I feel like I reach a new level of understanding. She tells me that in a month I will speak "kak russkaya", or like a regular Russian woman. Well, she has high hopes and I hope, for my sake, that I can live up to them.
The woman can cook, too. I'm basically spoiled. While my friends are off having borscht and blini, I'm eating freshly prepared dolmas and lobio. To top it all off, I have internet. That's luxury, my friends.
While we broke the "на вы" barrier within the first two days, the level of ease between us has already grown to encompass calling each other "сука" (bitch) and laughing at each other's mishaps. All in all, a good situation.
- Not so serious business
So far, our only excursion has been on a boat through the canals of St. Petersburg and along the Neva. That was nifty. I think I was so tired that none of it really registered. Really, the only thing that registered was when Kain said, "Why don't you put some smetanki on my blini s myasom?" Rough translation: Put some sour cream on my meat roll. I love meaningful cultural interjections.
Also, I delight in seeing signs around the city like "Resto-Bar" and random graffiti in English like "Men= Suicide". Yessss. So good. Please rock on, Russia.
And, oh, the night life! There's really nothing quite like it in America. Each bar I've been to seems to be worn around the edges, just like many parts of the city itself. The genre of music could be classified as "guilty pleasure". Russian pop? Yes. Ob-la-di by the Beatles, two different nights and two different clubs? Hell yes. Bon Jovi-- It's My Life? I swear I've never seen people rock so hard.
There's so much to cover that I'm really only scratching the surface and writing down just random thoughts. Also, it's pretty ridiculously late. Remind me why I'm writing this late again? Oh, right. The whole not sleeping thing.
For those of you faithful enough to even read this today: Check back tomorrow for epic photomographs and possibly more structure. Exciting prospects, yes?
After leaving my family behind in the lobby of the Embassy Suites in Washington DC, I couldn't help but feel the complete permanence of my decision. This was it. I was going to Russia for four months (or more) and there was no looking back. I was happy, excited, and oh-so-pumped.
Until pre-orientation.
Although the people I met were simply amazing, the orientation blew my mind in terms of how dismal they were. There were no mentions of the good times we would have or how beautiful Russia is. They gave us absolutely nothing good to look forward to. But they gave us something to look forward to...in the life-threatening sense.
New St. P friend, Molly!
We heard horror story after horror story...muggings, being held at knife point, getting kidnapped, assaulted or worse. Needless to say we were all horrified and suddenly second guessing our decisions. The orientation ended without a warm word.
I had a weak moment, I'll admit it. I couldn't for the life of me think of the reasons why I wanted to study this country until I had someone shake some sense into me. And then it came to me. Going to Russia was exactly like contemplating jumping into a really cold pool. You're on the cusp of it, looking in. You know it's going to be frigid and really uncomfortable, and you think to yourself, "Do I really want to leave this warm, comfy atmosphere to jump in freaking ice water?" Meanwhile you know you're going to jump in anyways. It may be cold and uncomfortable at first, but in the back of your mind, you know that you'll adjust eventually. The cold water becomes warm, and you eventually feel comfortable. And when you decide to get out, you're refreshed, invigorated, and ready to take on the world.
Well, hopefully the latter part of that analogy works out for me. Haha.
The Saint-Petersburg group went out to Buca di Beppo for dinner, and all was well since we were feasting for free. And the dessert? Oh, just look at it. Completely decimated
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- Jumping In
Landing in Russia was simply bizarre. To see all the Cyrillic and cold, Russian faces was a wake-up call. After more traveling through St. Petersburg, we got to our dorms and passed out.
However, that night the St. Petersburg futbol team won some European cup, so the hooligans were out in full force at the bar next door. Cars were beeping every three seconds, and people were yelling, screaming, and chanting. In the state of mind I was in (that is, half asleep and beyond exhausted), I kept waking up and just feeling so hopeless. It was great when they started chanting "Sieg Heil". No, really.
The next day was our orientation within the city. These orientations were actually really, really helpful. I got a Russian cell phone and got to "gulyat" around a bit. Side note: It's hard to write well in English now that I've been completely immersed in Russian. I really have the think. It's an odd feeling.
(<- Our dorm and our beds)
My last night in the dorm (as I was to move in with my host mama the next morning), I went out with several guys and my friend Caroline all over Nevski Prospekt. We went to Fidel and listened to American music from 3 years ago, it was awesome.
Drinking our beers on the street (you can do that here!), we meandered to the square outside of the Hermitage. An old man was playing his saxophone and it echoed off the lit-up walls-- it was a beautiful image and a beautiful experience, especially when a bit tipsy. I thought to myself, "This is why I'm here." Surrounded by people experiencing the same blissful feeling, the night really couldn't get any better.
Suddenly, RUSSIANS! Everywhere! Well, not everywhere, but some Russians our age bombarded us and decided to take us Americans under their wing and go to Achtung, Baby, a popular night club several blocks away. One of them, Valera, did not believe I was American since I dressed very Russian-like and spoke with less of an accent. He kept asking for my documents and laughing. Oh, Russian militsia.
One of the girls from the Russian group asked me what I thought about the Russian-Georgian Conflict, but I was told not to speak about it. She seemed very open minded about it, however, claiming that she wanted to know what information other media has been giving.
After hearing all about the rampant anti-American sentiment in Russia, it was such a relief to meet Russians who were accomadating and overall amazing to hang out with. Once we got to Achtung, Baby, we danced until 5 in the morning to Russian ska, Bon Jovi, The Beatles, and Spice Girls. We were euphoric.
I freaking love Russia.
Much more has happened, but that is for another time and another day. Leave me comments, I love to hear from you all. My life has gotten interesting to say the least, but I can't update all at once. Next: My amazing host mother, classes, excursions, and observations.
Blogs are very convenient. I don't have to constantly send you emails, and you don't have to feel guilty about letting them sit there in your mailbox only to be apathetically read at some way later date or deleted altogether. Don't be coy, I know that's what you all do. Mea culpa, I do it too.
So, here's the thing. You check it when you want. If you're genuinely interested in knowing when I update, there's something called the RSS Feed (sounds techy, it's not! I swear! Read about it here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Web_feed). It's the red subscribe button in the upper right hand corner. Click on it and it will send you an email whenever I update the site. Yay technology!
I will be in St. Petersburg from the end of August to mid-December. I'm kind of skeptical that this is actually my reality since my previous efforts to go abroad never came to fruition. However, there's an itty-bitty side of me that I'm allowing to scream in anticipation. I can't wait to get on that plane and explore the place I've been studying for so long.
Below is a short summary of my summer. I'm still getting the feel of blogger (horrible, horrible medium. Not easy AT ALL), so I can't expand/collapse posts. Feel free to skip it to the video at the end.
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- Summer 2008: Starbucks, Family, and Road Trips
As soon as I got to Long Island after I left MHC, I went job hunting. I got hired by the Starbucks nearby, which was a perfect fit. I got to socialize with people other than my family and get cash at the same time. All of my coworkers were awesome. I also made friends with some regulars who are probably reading this now: HI JOHN AND MARIA! HI LIZ! Haha.
After way too much time with way too many people, I decided to go on a road trip. Alone, oh-solo-mio and all. I drove from Long Island, NY to Manchester, New Hampshire (after an opening shift at starbucks ..4:45 am...and one hour of sleep! Oh, youth!) to see my dear Katy, aka Katya. New Hampshire is amazingly beautiful and beyond words. Afterwards, I drove to Amherst, MA to spend two days with Alex.
Returning to Amherst during the summer made me really appreciate how wonderful it is there. Now I understand the draw to the place. It's such a great community and has a fair share of good restaurants and things to do. Plus it's BEAUTIFUL. I really need to take advantage of being there more when I get back from Russia. That was honestly my vacation within a vacation, and I got the air I needed to breathe.
I also hung out with Augustine in the city, after not having been able to actually catch up with each other in well, forever. We went to southstreet seaport for some awesome Italian and the best hazelnut/espresso gelato I've ever had. See, Auggo? I mentioned you, albeit belatedly.
Unfortunately, my Starbucks was one of the stores set to close by the end of July out of 50 in the nation. So I said my good-byes and headed down to Florida, where I had my own bed, old friends, and a great nightlife.
- South Florida: Poplife, Preparing, and Hurricane Fay
August just consisted of catching up with old friends, going out, and getting immunized. Hepatitis A shots HURT.
And now there's today. Hurricanes really don't hold the fear they once did here in South Florida. Even with the threat of blindingly harsh sheets of rain and obvious hurricane-force winds, there were still tons of people on the road, including myself.
Was it worth it? Yes. I got to see some great friends from high school, enjoy some authentic Venezuelan cuisine courtesy of Tim's mother, and chat about life, the future, and STA. Tim's leaving for Najing, China on Wednesday, which is pretty crazy. We're both stoked for our respective trips.
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Here's a taste of what's to come. This video is comprised of clips from this past summer and January of 2007. The camera itself went m.i.a. in that interim--don't ask.
Brief Summary of the video:
Who: Family from all sides, friends from everywhere
What: Pure love
Where: LI, moho, FL
When: Summer '08, Jan '07
Song: Tunnels, by the Arcade Fire.
More to come! :)
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