I went out last night with a couple of my girlfriends for a “girls night out.” I made it to the metro where we supposed to meet up at an hour early (as I was already on that side of town) so I decided to ride the metro for a while. For anyone who visits Moscow: all the metro stations on the brown line are absolutely amazing and Art Deco. I ended up a few stops down, sitting on a bench, playing a video game on my phone.
After we met up, we went to my friend Jaidy’s apartment to pre-game and hang out/get ready. Jaidy is a trip. She is a British girl teaching English here in Moscow. To let you know a bit about Jaidy’s character: she taught her students that it was ok to say “make your homework,” but then was too embarrassed to correct herself. She lives with a Fenchman named Bruno, who is by far the funniest person I have ever met. His mannerisms were that of a very drunken Borat, only it is impossible to understand what he is saying in any language.
Our little ragtag group also included Pierina, my Peruvian friend who is here with her family, and Marina, a Russian МГУ student who I had previously thought was quiet and subdued and innocent. And then we played Never Have I Ever…
After they attempted to make me chug a beer ( I wouldn’t) we took a cab to Masterskaya. We have been getting ripped off soooo badly on cabs. Grisha accepts any price he is offered (usually 400-500 p) Us girls didn’t pay more than 200 for a cab, and usually only paid 100. Masterskaya was incredibly dead, so we decided to go to Rolling Stone. After an adventure getting there (the cabbie couldn’t find it) we made it there to find it closed. A man standing outside said it would open within 10 minutes (it was approaching 1 o’clock) and claimed a man in a car than pulled up was the owner. We initially got all excited, but then were told to come back the next night. We introduced ourselves under fake names, and claimed we were all British. So we left to go to another club… there are like 5 in that area. Rai is there, but was closed to a private party. We went to the Funky Mama. Note: you have to pay to take cameras in, so, if you have one, hide it in your bra. There were two guys ahead of us, but they were sent away because it was a private party. We talked ourselves in… Who knew you’d get further being foreign and pretending not to know Russian? According to Jaidy, the three girls were Brits, I was American, and it was our last night in Moscow. After they let us in, we were told there was a cover of 400p. “What? I don’t understand what she is saying! Do you understand what she is saying?” The woman fetched some Asian man, who tried to explain it cost 400p to get in. He slipped up, and said 400 total, so we each handed here 100p. She tried to explain it was 400 apiece but “OMG. DO you understand her? I don’t know whats going on! We just want to dance! Where is the bathroom.” So she let us in.
Weird night. We were literally the only Westerners in the club, aside from some spray-tanned Russian girl with straight black hair (She looked like a skinny, tall Snooki). Everyone was Asian. Everyone. We danced for about an hour, but there were few men to dance with and the music was just odd techno.
Also, the bathroom there was the sketchiest thing I have ever seen. It was unisex, and pitch black, with a couple of red lights. I referred to it as “the sketchiest, rapiest” bathroom I have ever been in, and was pretty certain we’d walk in on someone shooting up heroin.
We left, and I went to spend the night with Pierina. She lived within walking distance, but it was cold, and we had heels on. So we paid a cab 50p to take us across the street. At home, we made pasta and joked about how ridiculous the Russian medical system is. She had gone to the hospital with mild gastritis, and they claimed she had appendicitis and brought her to a special hospital in an ambulance. She was in for a week, and they wanted to keep her another week before her parents busted her out. Her dad went in with a throat problem, and they claimed he had pneumonia and tried to keep him for 3 weeks. And I know someone who is in the hospital for 10 days having tests run. Who runs ten days of tests????
The only other thing worth noting is that Pierina's family's apartment is very nice by Moscow standards (two bedrooms, washing machine, wooden floors that are attached, separate living room) it is 1/4 of the size of the apartment of the American Embassy interns. So, once again: it is good to be American here.
On that note, Oleg is working on getting me a job here after I graduate. He thinks he can find me one with a starting salary of "at least $2500" a month. Which isn't a lot by American standards, but is pretty fucking amazing for Moscow. So, excited about that possibility. I just have to try to pay off my student loans as much as possible before then...
Which brings me to why the world hates me. After staying an Pierina's I made it back to my dorm room around 12. I had to wash and blow-dry my hair, and I didn't make it to my faculty until around 1 to start my visa paperwork. I had wanted to be there by 12, when the office opened. So, I waited to have some paperwork done, then walked across the street to pay for my visa. Next, I had to go back to the main building and bring some of the paperwork to a certain office. Fun fact... the elevator doesn't go to the 8th floor. I pressed the button, and it unlit. I was brought to the 11th floor. I tried to get in another elevator, but it brought me to the first floor when I pressed the button. Finally, I went to the 11th floor and walked down to the 8th. I probably lost a half an hour with this experiment.
I finally make it to the office I need to go to, and find they are only open 2 hours a day, 4 days a week. Guess who has class during the times they are open on Monday? The earliest I can get the paperwork taken care of us Tuesday.
I run to my room to change my coat, as it had grown colder. Spring in Moscow sucks. Oleg says he doesn't remember a Spring this bad (blizzards in late March) but I joke that just assume it is always like this here. I just hate how variable the weather is... all the snow melts, then 3 inches of snow in an hour. No ice to 6 inches of footprint-covered ice.
In my room I open my window to grab my juice off the windowsill. Completely forgetting that I had a pitcher of iced tea on the inside windowsill. It fell, the pitcher broke, and sweet tea splattered across myself and every electrical cord I own. I ended up with a wet rag trying to wipe the tea off of everything, and having to lick the wet cords to make sure I had gotten everything up. I was 45 minutes late to my history class, my laptop died as soon as I arrived (the class is so boring, I cannot physically get through it without facebook). And thats about it.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
When it Rains, Part IV
Managed to be pretty productive today. Stephanie and I met Marina at a metro station Kropotinskaya to go to a couple of museums. First was the State Pushkin museum. I was thinking we would go to the Pushkin museum on Stari Arbat (one Oleg showed me, an apartment Pushkin lived in briefly with his young wife) but that one is apparently a branch of this one. Pretty interesting. Pushkin never lived there, but it featured some things of his (sketches, a lock of hair, a rather morbid death mask) and other things that just had to do with the time period he lived in. The ballroom there was magnificent, with examples of Empire clothing. And hats. I've developed quite a thing for hats in recent years.
From there we went to the Pushkin Museum of the Fine Arts. Both of these museums are on the same street, across from Christ the Savior Cathedral. You leave the metro... one is on the left, one is on the right.
Anywho, the Fine Arts Museum is massive. We only looked at like 2/3 of the main building, because we started at 230 in the afternoon, and had grown tired and hungry. But there was a Dior exhibit I'd like to go see sometime, and several other art buildings surrounding it. Id like to see the one directly next door, which featured Renoirs and other such things. I'd really like to go back to see that. Add that to the list of things I want to see while I'm here (go out of the country/go to a dacha/go out of the city to a smaller city/Bulgakov Museum/Gorky park/but shoes, preferably from an outdoor market/buy random crap to bring home for cheap, preferably from an outdoor market), and my visit is already half finished! Which reminds me... I'm going to call Air Berlin about extending my trip tomorrow.
And thats about it for now. If you want to see what I saw at the Fine Arts Museum, check out my facebook pictures. It has all sorts of the snarky comments I'm sure you have grown to love. Also, I don't know if I've mentioned this, but all Russian museums feature a littl old lady sitting in every room (they pace for some inexplicable reason at the Fine Arts Museum) to ensure you don't touch and/or steal things. So, beware of that.
Oh, and I got to listen to Chris bitch last night for the umpteenth time about how he didn't want to go to another museum because he doesn't like museums and he could look up the same thing online from his room and what is a good excuse for not going and he feels useless just walking around museums and churches and he doesn't like art...
For those of you wondering why I bitch about Chris so much, its that we end up being stuck spending a lot of time together because we have classes together, and nobody else can out up with him. And it is a warning to those poor souls who will be studying here in Moscow in the Fall with him. Good luck.
From there we went to the Pushkin Museum of the Fine Arts. Both of these museums are on the same street, across from Christ the Savior Cathedral. You leave the metro... one is on the left, one is on the right.
Anywho, the Fine Arts Museum is massive. We only looked at like 2/3 of the main building, because we started at 230 in the afternoon, and had grown tired and hungry. But there was a Dior exhibit I'd like to go see sometime, and several other art buildings surrounding it. Id like to see the one directly next door, which featured Renoirs and other such things. I'd really like to go back to see that. Add that to the list of things I want to see while I'm here (go out of the country/go to a dacha/go out of the city to a smaller city/Bulgakov Museum/Gorky park/but shoes, preferably from an outdoor market/buy random crap to bring home for cheap, preferably from an outdoor market), and my visit is already half finished! Which reminds me... I'm going to call Air Berlin about extending my trip tomorrow.
And thats about it for now. If you want to see what I saw at the Fine Arts Museum, check out my facebook pictures. It has all sorts of the snarky comments I'm sure you have grown to love. Also, I don't know if I've mentioned this, but all Russian museums feature a littl old lady sitting in every room (they pace for some inexplicable reason at the Fine Arts Museum) to ensure you don't touch and/or steal things. So, beware of that.
Oh, and I got to listen to Chris bitch last night for the umpteenth time about how he didn't want to go to another museum because he doesn't like museums and he could look up the same thing online from his room and what is a good excuse for not going and he feels useless just walking around museums and churches and he doesn't like art...
For those of you wondering why I bitch about Chris so much, its that we end up being stuck spending a lot of time together because we have classes together, and nobody else can out up with him. And it is a warning to those poor souls who will be studying here in Moscow in the Fall with him. Good luck.
When It Rains (Part III)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qMF4B3wDO_E
Which brings me to the part of the story that the title references. Yesterday (Monday) I was depressed. Nothing really important. I am actually so much happier in Russia than I have ever been. Back home, I deal with depression really frequently. I was worried that I would have serious issues when I got to Moscow, because the Russian way of dealing with depression seems to be "take a shot and get the fuck over it." But between the newness of Moscow, and the amazing people I keep meeting, and the being too confused to have time to be sad, I hadn't actually gotten depressed yet. But yesterday, I said goodbye to my wonderful boyfriend, and got home and... the world seemed a little grey. I went to class. Eh. I walked to and from class with Chris, which is like walking to and from class with your own personal black cloud.
(This is the part of the blog where I bitch about Chris. If you are uninterested, skip ahead to the next blog entry)
Because it was Monday, and thus Papa's Place night, we decided to meet at 5:30 to go there. This was Chris' idea, as the deals at the bar don't start until 7pm. But his theory seemed to be that it we got there at 6 and ordered a pizza, they couldn't put a reserved sign on our table. I tried to tell him that they likely stop seating people a few hours before seven to prevent people from doing that, and just don't open for dinner until the reserved signs were out, but he didn't listen to me.
We were supposed to meet at 530, but my friend Nikita was late, and then Tara forgot her paperwork, and took 20 minutes to retrieve it, so we left at 550. So Chris began to bitch. Bitch about how we wouldn't be able to find a table. About how he didn't want to go barring. He kept snapping at Tara, who, granted, is a little off, but we deal. I wanted. to. hit. him. He has gotten a reputation for bitching. and bitching. and bitching. I was honestly not in the mood to go drinking, but I went because of the possibility of getting out of my room, and they have good pizza.
So, after we take the metro (Chris bitching loudly about how crowded it is) and walked to Papa's Place, we saw the reserved signs on the table, and didn't bother going in. Insert ore bitching/wet blanketness. I really needed to eat something by then, so we walked into an Irish Pub across the way to look at the menu. The second I open it Chris starts bitching to me about the prices being way too high. Once again, I wanted to hit him. What if I want to splurge on Irish food in the future? Can't I look at a goddamn menu without a... never mind.
We went to MacDonalds. It was difficult to find a seat (bitch bitch bitch). Then, Chris wanted to find a liquor store. He wanted to go down side streets, and go into the little shops near the metro, looking for Jack Daniels (which they don't sell at Ashan). It was cold, but I got dragged around looking for a liquor store near Chistie Prudie, even though I told him I know where there is one by universitet.
So, we go back to universitet. Where I get to listen to Chris bitch about how there are no vending machines for soda here, but there are for newspapers. (Note: nikita had left us before we left because some of his friends called). And he bitched about how Russians are racist. And he bitched about how they don't run enough metro trains. I honestly can't figure out why he is here/staying an extra semester. Maybe he wants to learn the language, but he has made no Russian friends to speak to him. He cares nothing about the culture, and more or less seems to be miserable, and just makes us miserable as a result. We went to the liquor store, where they did not have Jack Daniels. So I got bitched at because Russian doesn't import Jack Daniels, despite it being cheaper then Jim Beam ("Maybe, as a result, it is more profitable to import Jim Beam?" got me a glare) But I bought a little thing of pear cider I wanted to try, and we went home. Chris bought Jameson, and the entire way home he bitched about how he spent $40 for a bottle of Scotch (which is not expensive for a bottle of Scotch) and how he wasn't sharing it.
Back at the university, I ran to my room to fetch some bread, pesto, cheese, and salami. I fetched Chris some Pepsi to drink with his whisky, before he realized Jameson was for sipping. I just wanted to drink my one little bottle of cider in peace, maybe over nice conversation or music. But apparently Chris doesn't do that. He doesn't like to drink and listen to music. Or talk. Or dance. He just likes to drink and play cards. The one good thing is that he and Tara bickered like crazy. It was comforting, not being the one who is responsible for bickering with Chris constantly. After a little while (2 card games, during which I wanted to kill myself) Will joined us. We were going to watch Paranormal Activity 2 (because the crappy, low-budget horror films I recommended he download weren't good enough, bitch bitch bitch) when we were invited to the room of two of the other boys.
Thank. Fucking. God.
Grisha showed up, drunk and amusing. He is a great guy to talk to when he is drunk and not around strangers he might threaten to fight. Most of the American crowd was there, just bullshitting and drinking. Chris tried getting everyone to play cards, but everyone got him to STFU. He yelled at me for suggesting we play Never Have I Ever because "nobody wants to play" (truth: everyone wanted to play except him). I was largely suggesting it because they would start a conversation about Russian/American military stories/tactics/history/weaponry, and when he drunkenly went on a tangent, they would ignore him, leaving us girls to listen to his story. But... eh. Learned some interesting things. Tara talked about he low self-esteem, so Grisha toasted the "beautiful ladies... inside and out." I learned Grisha secretly just wants to fuck shit up with an ax, and is hoping for Apocalypse, zombie or otherwise, to try out his skills. I learned Will served in Iraq with an Ethiopian prince who enlisted in the Marines to learn military tactics to bring back to his country. And Grisha went on a speech about how I would be an amazing mother to, he estimated, three children. Oh, and Grisha and Tara discussed how to survive after the fall of civilization... she seemed to think everyone's children would grow up stunted and retarded because all of the world's vitamin supplements would expire after 2 years...
Everyone started teasing Will because he accidentally got himself a Russian girlfriend, who will not be told about his girlfriend back home. He is referring to himself as the "second Rachel" and they all joked about our upcoming joint wedding (fml). At which point Griha, drunk and excited, started planning a joint wedding for us at a resort on the Volga. I think I found it less funny than everyone else.
When Will and Grisha stepped out for a smoke around 3am, I crawled into Will's bed and passed out. They decided to walk us girls home shortly after that.
Which brings me to the part of the story that the title references. Yesterday (Monday) I was depressed. Nothing really important. I am actually so much happier in Russia than I have ever been. Back home, I deal with depression really frequently. I was worried that I would have serious issues when I got to Moscow, because the Russian way of dealing with depression seems to be "take a shot and get the fuck over it." But between the newness of Moscow, and the amazing people I keep meeting, and the being too confused to have time to be sad, I hadn't actually gotten depressed yet. But yesterday, I said goodbye to my wonderful boyfriend, and got home and... the world seemed a little grey. I went to class. Eh. I walked to and from class with Chris, which is like walking to and from class with your own personal black cloud.
(This is the part of the blog where I bitch about Chris. If you are uninterested, skip ahead to the next blog entry)
Because it was Monday, and thus Papa's Place night, we decided to meet at 5:30 to go there. This was Chris' idea, as the deals at the bar don't start until 7pm. But his theory seemed to be that it we got there at 6 and ordered a pizza, they couldn't put a reserved sign on our table. I tried to tell him that they likely stop seating people a few hours before seven to prevent people from doing that, and just don't open for dinner until the reserved signs were out, but he didn't listen to me.
We were supposed to meet at 530, but my friend Nikita was late, and then Tara forgot her paperwork, and took 20 minutes to retrieve it, so we left at 550. So Chris began to bitch. Bitch about how we wouldn't be able to find a table. About how he didn't want to go barring. He kept snapping at Tara, who, granted, is a little off, but we deal. I wanted. to. hit. him. He has gotten a reputation for bitching. and bitching. and bitching. I was honestly not in the mood to go drinking, but I went because of the possibility of getting out of my room, and they have good pizza.
So, after we take the metro (Chris bitching loudly about how crowded it is) and walked to Papa's Place, we saw the reserved signs on the table, and didn't bother going in. Insert ore bitching/wet blanketness. I really needed to eat something by then, so we walked into an Irish Pub across the way to look at the menu. The second I open it Chris starts bitching to me about the prices being way too high. Once again, I wanted to hit him. What if I want to splurge on Irish food in the future? Can't I look at a goddamn menu without a... never mind.
We went to MacDonalds. It was difficult to find a seat (bitch bitch bitch). Then, Chris wanted to find a liquor store. He wanted to go down side streets, and go into the little shops near the metro, looking for Jack Daniels (which they don't sell at Ashan). It was cold, but I got dragged around looking for a liquor store near Chistie Prudie, even though I told him I know where there is one by universitet.
So, we go back to universitet. Where I get to listen to Chris bitch about how there are no vending machines for soda here, but there are for newspapers. (Note: nikita had left us before we left because some of his friends called). And he bitched about how Russians are racist. And he bitched about how they don't run enough metro trains. I honestly can't figure out why he is here/staying an extra semester. Maybe he wants to learn the language, but he has made no Russian friends to speak to him. He cares nothing about the culture, and more or less seems to be miserable, and just makes us miserable as a result. We went to the liquor store, where they did not have Jack Daniels. So I got bitched at because Russian doesn't import Jack Daniels, despite it being cheaper then Jim Beam ("Maybe, as a result, it is more profitable to import Jim Beam?" got me a glare) But I bought a little thing of pear cider I wanted to try, and we went home. Chris bought Jameson, and the entire way home he bitched about how he spent $40 for a bottle of Scotch (which is not expensive for a bottle of Scotch) and how he wasn't sharing it.
Back at the university, I ran to my room to fetch some bread, pesto, cheese, and salami. I fetched Chris some Pepsi to drink with his whisky, before he realized Jameson was for sipping. I just wanted to drink my one little bottle of cider in peace, maybe over nice conversation or music. But apparently Chris doesn't do that. He doesn't like to drink and listen to music. Or talk. Or dance. He just likes to drink and play cards. The one good thing is that he and Tara bickered like crazy. It was comforting, not being the one who is responsible for bickering with Chris constantly. After a little while (2 card games, during which I wanted to kill myself) Will joined us. We were going to watch Paranormal Activity 2 (because the crappy, low-budget horror films I recommended he download weren't good enough, bitch bitch bitch) when we were invited to the room of two of the other boys.
Thank. Fucking. God.
Grisha showed up, drunk and amusing. He is a great guy to talk to when he is drunk and not around strangers he might threaten to fight. Most of the American crowd was there, just bullshitting and drinking. Chris tried getting everyone to play cards, but everyone got him to STFU. He yelled at me for suggesting we play Never Have I Ever because "nobody wants to play" (truth: everyone wanted to play except him). I was largely suggesting it because they would start a conversation about Russian/American military stories/tactics/history/weaponry, and when he drunkenly went on a tangent, they would ignore him, leaving us girls to listen to his story. But... eh. Learned some interesting things. Tara talked about he low self-esteem, so Grisha toasted the "beautiful ladies... inside and out." I learned Grisha secretly just wants to fuck shit up with an ax, and is hoping for Apocalypse, zombie or otherwise, to try out his skills. I learned Will served in Iraq with an Ethiopian prince who enlisted in the Marines to learn military tactics to bring back to his country. And Grisha went on a speech about how I would be an amazing mother to, he estimated, three children. Oh, and Grisha and Tara discussed how to survive after the fall of civilization... she seemed to think everyone's children would grow up stunted and retarded because all of the world's vitamin supplements would expire after 2 years...
Everyone started teasing Will because he accidentally got himself a Russian girlfriend, who will not be told about his girlfriend back home. He is referring to himself as the "second Rachel" and they all joked about our upcoming joint wedding (fml). At which point Griha, drunk and excited, started planning a joint wedding for us at a resort on the Volga. I think I found it less funny than everyone else.
When Will and Grisha stepped out for a smoke around 3am, I crawled into Will's bed and passed out. They decided to walk us girls home shortly after that.
When It Rains... (Part II)
Sunday, I woke up and made French toast! Oleg had bought me American sandwich bread, and I had found some maple syrup. Coupled with some canned strawberries, it was a quite amazing breakfast.
Side note: One can of strawberries here= about 6 strawberries. They fill that thing up with syrup like its going out of style.
Oleg and I met with Stephanie and Maria (this Russian girl at the faculty that somehow got pulled into a project with us) to go around the city taking pictures of 17th century churches. We started off at one around Park Kultury, then four in the Tverskaya area, and the two near Kitay Gorod. By then, we were freaking exhausted. We stopped at a Coffee House to get warm before the final church. After we finished taking pictures, Maria left to go meet friends, and Oleg could tell us girls wanted to walk through ГУМto get warm, so we stopped in.
There was an accessory store (I think literally called "Accessory" or "Accessorize") that had a wall advertising 70% off. I was able to find a very cute purse that both goes over my shoulder (to help with my upper back/shoulder problems) and can fit my water bottle. Stephanie was also able to buy a bag. I learned two things from this experience. One is that shoes are just obnoxiously priced in Moscow. Sandals and flip-flops were like $70-80 before the discount. I refuse to spend more that $15 for flats. If I cannot find shoes by spring, I am wearing my cheap WalMart flip flops out. That is all I can say. The second thing is that they were superficially inflating prices by putting them in rubles. My purse, and the hats and whatnot had decent prices on them (my purse was only about $18 after the discount). But there were cute panties and pajama sets that had prices in euro and pounds at reasonable prices ($6-8 for panties, $18 for the pajama sets) but were ticketed in rubles at OBNOXIOUS prices ($22 for panties, $50ish for pajama sets) I wonder why that was.
Nothing of too much interest happened the rest of the evening. I made a supper of terryaki beef tips and stir-fried rice noodles. Quite yummy.
Side note: One can of strawberries here= about 6 strawberries. They fill that thing up with syrup like its going out of style.
Oleg and I met with Stephanie and Maria (this Russian girl at the faculty that somehow got pulled into a project with us) to go around the city taking pictures of 17th century churches. We started off at one around Park Kultury, then four in the Tverskaya area, and the two near Kitay Gorod. By then, we were freaking exhausted. We stopped at a Coffee House to get warm before the final church. After we finished taking pictures, Maria left to go meet friends, and Oleg could tell us girls wanted to walk through ГУМto get warm, so we stopped in.
There was an accessory store (I think literally called "Accessory" or "Accessorize") that had a wall advertising 70% off. I was able to find a very cute purse that both goes over my shoulder (to help with my upper back/shoulder problems) and can fit my water bottle. Stephanie was also able to buy a bag. I learned two things from this experience. One is that shoes are just obnoxiously priced in Moscow. Sandals and flip-flops were like $70-80 before the discount. I refuse to spend more that $15 for flats. If I cannot find shoes by spring, I am wearing my cheap WalMart flip flops out. That is all I can say. The second thing is that they were superficially inflating prices by putting them in rubles. My purse, and the hats and whatnot had decent prices on them (my purse was only about $18 after the discount). But there were cute panties and pajama sets that had prices in euro and pounds at reasonable prices ($6-8 for panties, $18 for the pajama sets) but were ticketed in rubles at OBNOXIOUS prices ($22 for panties, $50ish for pajama sets) I wonder why that was.
Nothing of too much interest happened the rest of the evening. I made a supper of terryaki beef tips and stir-fried rice noodles. Quite yummy.
When it Rains...
I am sorry I haven't been blogging these last few days. I have been very busy with things that could likely be considered more important. Or not. I'm not to judge.
Oleg worked late Friday, and had to work Saturday, so he picked me up at the metro, and he took me to walk around Чистые Пруды. I know the area, because one side of the metro (followed by an immediate left-hand turns) leads to our favorite bar: Papa's Place. We went out the other side, and just strolled. This has to be one of my favorite area of Moscow. The buildings are all very classical. It looks almost like St. Petersburg, only not incredibly cold and wet. Here sits Patriarch's Pond Park. Although, to be fair, its still sort of Patriarch's Ice Sheet Park. But beautiful. Absolutely stunning. For those of you who do not know, this is where the opening scene of "Master and Margarita" takes place. Oleg pointed out that the tram that supposedly decapitated Berlioz in the novel still runs by the park.
As a side note, I am so glad i met Oleg. In addition to the food and affection he provides (both of which I thrive on), there are so many things in Moscow he is showing me I would never have found otherwise. Usually, my method of sight-seeing involves trying to bribe one of the American boys to accompany so a. I am not alone, and b. I don't get raped/murdered. This is not really specific to Moscow. I don't even go to malls alone back in the States. But more on this later.
At the end of the street, we stopped so Oleg could take a call. Which was fine by me, as it gave me time to read their business lunch menu in the window. For those of you who don't know (in case I haven't mentioned it before) business lunch is transliterated from English. It means an inexpensive, quick meal, as if for businessmen in a rush to get back to work. They serve is at the university cafe here for 200p (about $6) and it includes a drink, a salad, a soup, a main dish and garnish (Russian for side dish). So, anyway, this very expensive-looking menu on the corner had full business lunch (all of those things listed) for 260p. Plus, you got to pick from like 4 main dishes, 3 salads... all sorts of choices. I had already made up my mind to return, but now I had leverage with which to bribe people to come with me... cheap food!
So, we wandered around awhile. There was some Eastern restaurant Oleg wanted to take me to, but it more or less disappeared. Instead, we went to Sherbet (I would imagine the "t" is not silent) another Middle-Eastern restaurant. Per a quick google search, the menu has some Arabic dishes, but is mostly Uzbek. It certainly had an Arabic feel... arches, hookahs, dim red lights. There was pop music playing, and reality TV shows on TV, which sort of ruined the ambiance, but gave Oleg and I a chance to discuss the impending end of the world (as foreshadowed by the rise of the Jersey Shore and Justin Beiber.)
A note on prices in Moscow: they are insane. Certain things are just disgustingly cheap. I've already discussed how cheap vodka is. You can get certain snacks, or a funnel, or a fresh baguette, for under 10p. That is thirty cents. But restaurants are all famously expensive. And drink prices at restaurants are equally crazy. For example, the cheapest drink on a menu at Coffee House is soda, which is 95p. It is essentially $3 for a really small glass of soda. No refills, naturally. Our drinks at Sherbet were about half the cost of our meal. Yes, they had alcohol. But, for example, I drank coffee with Baileys, which is imported and costs scary amounts of money if you buy a bottle at the store. This was about 185p (if I remember correctly). But coffee without and alcohol was already something obnoxious, like 130-150p. So you really might as well drink.
For the curious, here is their website: http://www.scherbet.ru/
We left there, and Oleg wanted to go inside a book store. I feel like such a philistine, but I am really not that keen on most bookseller's in America. They sell more kitsch than they do books and, as much as I realize this is horrible/ruins the publishing industry, etc... it is just so much cheaper to buy online. But, I must admit, Russian bookstores are odd. The places where the books are are pretty bland. Shelves reaching to the ceilings, and books are much more categorized than in the US. But they have these little kiosks where you type in the book you want, and it prints out a receipt with the location (which hall, section, shelf, etc.) Pretty neat. I was able to find a Russian translation of one of my favorite books (not a well-known one at all) on display.
Downstairs, things got odd. Like everything else in this city, the bookstore had a complete florist shop in it, as well as selling pretty much every touristy thing you could imagine.
On the way home, we stopped at a grocery store for food for supper the next night. Oleg sent me in with promised to join me after he picked something up. Big mistake. In the U.S. we have maybe 4-6 types of milk. There is Vitamin D, skim, lowfat, chocolate, maybe soy or almond? Here there is literally an aisle of unrefrigerated milk, and a giant section of refrigerated milk. So, I just stared at it at a loss until Oleg returned and chose a milk for me. Then, we went to get steak. I had found terryaki sauce, and wanted a nice, think skirt steak for terryaki steak. We went to to butcher, and she was about to grab me two nice-looking ones when... scary insect appears near the steaks in the display case. Oleg told the woman, and, in the process of nabbing Big Scary Bug... he fell into the case of steaks. We opted for beef tips after that. It really freaked me out, because this is supposedly one of the higher-class grocery stores... what goes on behind the scenes at Ashan?
I've much, much more to tell y'all, but I have an excursion in an hour, and sort of want to eat. So I shall continue the riveting tale of my weekend upon my return.
Oleg worked late Friday, and had to work Saturday, so he picked me up at the metro, and he took me to walk around Чистые Пруды. I know the area, because one side of the metro (followed by an immediate left-hand turns) leads to our favorite bar: Papa's Place. We went out the other side, and just strolled. This has to be one of my favorite area of Moscow. The buildings are all very classical. It looks almost like St. Petersburg, only not incredibly cold and wet. Here sits Patriarch's Pond Park. Although, to be fair, its still sort of Patriarch's Ice Sheet Park. But beautiful. Absolutely stunning. For those of you who do not know, this is where the opening scene of "Master and Margarita" takes place. Oleg pointed out that the tram that supposedly decapitated Berlioz in the novel still runs by the park.
As a side note, I am so glad i met Oleg. In addition to the food and affection he provides (both of which I thrive on), there are so many things in Moscow he is showing me I would never have found otherwise. Usually, my method of sight-seeing involves trying to bribe one of the American boys to accompany so a. I am not alone, and b. I don't get raped/murdered. This is not really specific to Moscow. I don't even go to malls alone back in the States. But more on this later.
At the end of the street, we stopped so Oleg could take a call. Which was fine by me, as it gave me time to read their business lunch menu in the window. For those of you who don't know (in case I haven't mentioned it before) business lunch is transliterated from English. It means an inexpensive, quick meal, as if for businessmen in a rush to get back to work. They serve is at the university cafe here for 200p (about $6) and it includes a drink, a salad, a soup, a main dish and garnish (Russian for side dish). So, anyway, this very expensive-looking menu on the corner had full business lunch (all of those things listed) for 260p. Plus, you got to pick from like 4 main dishes, 3 salads... all sorts of choices. I had already made up my mind to return, but now I had leverage with which to bribe people to come with me... cheap food!
So, we wandered around awhile. There was some Eastern restaurant Oleg wanted to take me to, but it more or less disappeared. Instead, we went to Sherbet (I would imagine the "t" is not silent) another Middle-Eastern restaurant. Per a quick google search, the menu has some Arabic dishes, but is mostly Uzbek. It certainly had an Arabic feel... arches, hookahs, dim red lights. There was pop music playing, and reality TV shows on TV, which sort of ruined the ambiance, but gave Oleg and I a chance to discuss the impending end of the world (as foreshadowed by the rise of the Jersey Shore and Justin Beiber.)
A note on prices in Moscow: they are insane. Certain things are just disgustingly cheap. I've already discussed how cheap vodka is. You can get certain snacks, or a funnel, or a fresh baguette, for under 10p. That is thirty cents. But restaurants are all famously expensive. And drink prices at restaurants are equally crazy. For example, the cheapest drink on a menu at Coffee House is soda, which is 95p. It is essentially $3 for a really small glass of soda. No refills, naturally. Our drinks at Sherbet were about half the cost of our meal. Yes, they had alcohol. But, for example, I drank coffee with Baileys, which is imported and costs scary amounts of money if you buy a bottle at the store. This was about 185p (if I remember correctly). But coffee without and alcohol was already something obnoxious, like 130-150p. So you really might as well drink.
For the curious, here is their website: http://www.scherbet.ru/
We left there, and Oleg wanted to go inside a book store. I feel like such a philistine, but I am really not that keen on most bookseller's in America. They sell more kitsch than they do books and, as much as I realize this is horrible/ruins the publishing industry, etc... it is just so much cheaper to buy online. But, I must admit, Russian bookstores are odd. The places where the books are are pretty bland. Shelves reaching to the ceilings, and books are much more categorized than in the US. But they have these little kiosks where you type in the book you want, and it prints out a receipt with the location (which hall, section, shelf, etc.) Pretty neat. I was able to find a Russian translation of one of my favorite books (not a well-known one at all) on display.
Downstairs, things got odd. Like everything else in this city, the bookstore had a complete florist shop in it, as well as selling pretty much every touristy thing you could imagine.
On the way home, we stopped at a grocery store for food for supper the next night. Oleg sent me in with promised to join me after he picked something up. Big mistake. In the U.S. we have maybe 4-6 types of milk. There is Vitamin D, skim, lowfat, chocolate, maybe soy or almond? Here there is literally an aisle of unrefrigerated milk, and a giant section of refrigerated milk. So, I just stared at it at a loss until Oleg returned and chose a milk for me. Then, we went to get steak. I had found terryaki sauce, and wanted a nice, think skirt steak for terryaki steak. We went to to butcher, and she was about to grab me two nice-looking ones when... scary insect appears near the steaks in the display case. Oleg told the woman, and, in the process of nabbing Big Scary Bug... he fell into the case of steaks. We opted for beef tips after that. It really freaked me out, because this is supposedly one of the higher-class grocery stores... what goes on behind the scenes at Ashan?
I've much, much more to tell y'all, but I have an excursion in an hour, and sort of want to eat. So I shall continue the riveting tale of my weekend upon my return.
Friday, March 18, 2011
Russian Girls: A Case Study
So, I've been meaning to write a post on this for a while. Currently, I am trying to keep from falling asleep in my Russian History class, and I suppose this is a good time to do it. This might come off as a little bitchy or bitter, but it is meant to be humorous. But, to be honest, I've no female Russian friends. Everyone here seems to laugh a little bit at Russian girls, foreigners and Russian men alike. Maybe I have it all wrong, and they are all wonderful, amazing, kind souls. I don't know. None of them speak to me. So, I shall continue assuming they are all vain, trite, competitive, and cold, until somebody proves me wrong.
Russian girls never leave their house/room without full makeup and their hair perfect. Everyone jokes that they won't even go to the toilet without makeup, and I have heard one admit she puts on lipstick to take the trash out. I imagine girls who move in with their boyfriends make sure they wake up an hour early to get ready before their man wakes up, out of fear that he shall quiver in fear at her true appearance.
And I partially do not blame them. On the streets, Russian girls look beautiful. Absolutely amazing. But I think 80% of it is cosmetics. I have only seen my roomate about 4 times, and she looks like a completely different person each time. First time, I thought she was beautiful. The next time, she was prepared for bed, and I was wondering what I was thinking the first time. She was swamp haggish. And then, the third time I ran into her, she was even more beautiful than ever.
Russian girls are also very skinny. Occasionally, you'll see a chubby girl, but its very rare. 10X more often than that, you'll see an anorexic-looking chick. I was told that some girls here will regularly go three days without consuming anything but orange juice, in hopes of staying skinny. One of the American boys is dating a Russian girl who eats nothing but a small snack every day.
So, keep in mind, you will come to Russia, and immediately feel fat and ugly. Get over it. I literally ran through an entire compact of foundation my first month here. Luckily, I found my usual makeup at a store here. But I am slowly giving up on going out in full whore regalia. As previously mentioned, Oleg doesn't mind me not wearing makeup, and it is really doing a number on my skin. And the food here is so rich... don't even bother trying to lose weight here. Vodka doesn't help.
Dressing like a Russian girl in winter is even more problematic. I dress very well for an American, both here and back home. Still nothing compared to what the Russian girls wear. Usually, they wear high-heeled boots, sometimes stilettos, which generally reach to the knee. These are almost always paired with some sort of miniskirt and nice top or minidress. To keep warm, they usually wear a form-fitting down coat, belted at the waist, that reaches to the knees, usually with some sort of fur-lined hood(genuine or synthetic)that they almost never actually put on their head.
Also, straight bangs, which went out of style with the over 12 crowd in the 1990's, and really popular here. Usually, the bangs are much shorter than they should be...
So, please don't hate me if you disagree with this (Oleg). I am just stating observations, and trying to warn my gf's who shall be coming after me.
Russian girls never leave their house/room without full makeup and their hair perfect. Everyone jokes that they won't even go to the toilet without makeup, and I have heard one admit she puts on lipstick to take the trash out. I imagine girls who move in with their boyfriends make sure they wake up an hour early to get ready before their man wakes up, out of fear that he shall quiver in fear at her true appearance.
And I partially do not blame them. On the streets, Russian girls look beautiful. Absolutely amazing. But I think 80% of it is cosmetics. I have only seen my roomate about 4 times, and she looks like a completely different person each time. First time, I thought she was beautiful. The next time, she was prepared for bed, and I was wondering what I was thinking the first time. She was swamp haggish. And then, the third time I ran into her, she was even more beautiful than ever.
Russian girls are also very skinny. Occasionally, you'll see a chubby girl, but its very rare. 10X more often than that, you'll see an anorexic-looking chick. I was told that some girls here will regularly go three days without consuming anything but orange juice, in hopes of staying skinny. One of the American boys is dating a Russian girl who eats nothing but a small snack every day.
So, keep in mind, you will come to Russia, and immediately feel fat and ugly. Get over it. I literally ran through an entire compact of foundation my first month here. Luckily, I found my usual makeup at a store here. But I am slowly giving up on going out in full whore regalia. As previously mentioned, Oleg doesn't mind me not wearing makeup, and it is really doing a number on my skin. And the food here is so rich... don't even bother trying to lose weight here. Vodka doesn't help.
Dressing like a Russian girl in winter is even more problematic. I dress very well for an American, both here and back home. Still nothing compared to what the Russian girls wear. Usually, they wear high-heeled boots, sometimes stilettos, which generally reach to the knee. These are almost always paired with some sort of miniskirt and nice top or minidress. To keep warm, they usually wear a form-fitting down coat, belted at the waist, that reaches to the knees, usually with some sort of fur-lined hood(genuine or synthetic)that they almost never actually put on their head.
Also, straight bangs, which went out of style with the over 12 crowd in the 1990's, and really popular here. Usually, the bangs are much shorter than they should be...
So, please don't hate me if you disagree with this (Oleg). I am just stating observations, and trying to warn my gf's who shall be coming after me.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Links
Here are the links to the videos in question:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x-yHSaP0Dyg&feature=player_embedded
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=njAC38WnQo0
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VTh6r15FWf0&playnext=1&list=PL0A856BD8C6977158
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x-yHSaP0Dyg&feature=player_embedded
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=njAC38WnQo0
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VTh6r15FWf0&playnext=1&list=PL0A856BD8C6977158
Some sort of corny bomb pun...
So, yesterday was incredibly annoying. I got out of class at 4 o'clock, with the intention of going to Ashan with the girls to buy stuff for tacos. When we got to our sector, outside, there was a line outside. I showed my pass to the guard, who said something in Russian, and, while I couldn't understand the words, I understood the gist: "You are not getting in." Rather than hang out outside in the cold, Stephanie and I took a marshrutka to Ashan to purchase taco materials. While there, I texted Greg, and learned there was a bomb threat at the university, and we weren't going to be let in until the swept the whole building. So, we went to go sit on the third story, near the food court. It was even more packed than usual. After Stephanie and I spent an hour hovered over our coffee and Coka-Cola (со льдом, пожалуйста)we figured out that everyone there were МГУ students killing time. One of the boys was at the mall with his Russian gf, but he never joined us. We were soon joined by three of the Americans, and sort of chilled there for awhile. Stephanie bought sushi, but I forgot to replenish my wallet, and, after spending nearly $30 in taco-related groceries, had only about 200p on me. But, we saw a lot of people we knew from the university. I texted Олег asking if he could come and fetch me, as I received a text about the bomb at about 7:30, along with the promise that dorms *should* be open *within a few hours*. In Russia, that means might, in some magical far away alternate universe, be open tomorrow. So, naturally, I run into Agata and hear that they are open literally 3 minutes before he arrives. I figured I'd just go home with him.
So, we more or less spent the evening looking music we like on youtube. And then, we spent this morning watching youtube videos. He showed me one starring Alan Tudyk, and I flipped out. And told him about my minor Firefly obsession. Much to my surprise, he has heard of Firefly, and pulled up a skype conversation he had with a friend about a Firefly-themed youtube video. This. is. so. happening.
As he didn't have to be to work until late, we walked around Old Arbat for awhile. It is a pretty touristy area, with painting hawkers and souvenir shops everywhere, but the classical architecture and beautiful street more than make up for it. I can't wait to go back with my camera. There is a nice statue to Pushkin outside the Pushkin museum (Pushkin's last home... bright blue), and two My-Mys. It is imperative I get my picture taken with that cow.
We went to Dunkin Donuts, because, hey, fuckin' donuts. I'd actually been craving a donut a few days ago. So I got a slightly crispy crueller with strawberry frosting, and peach sweet tea, which more or less made my day. Oleg got a lemon coolata, and could not drink it. It was explained to me last night that, per Russian mentality, we eat food hot because it aids in digestion, and it is bad for you to drink cold drinks while eating. *Sigh*. Either way, my tea was amazing.
I also learned that Олег doesn't like girls who wear makeup. Which is probably the only reason he likes me... I am probably the only female in this entire country willing to go to the trash chute without makeup. Or he was lying because he didn't have the heart to tell me I looked haggish.
So, I got home way past the time to go to class, and took a bit of a nap. Which is fine, because apparently we got test results back today, and most of the class was just the professor yelling at students. And it is the only Russian class I had missed.
After nap... taco time. Pictures will be on facebook in the future, I promise. They were delicious. I've enough meat left to prove to Oleg that tacos and sharma are not the same thing (alas, we cannot mix cheese and sour cream in, to make them truly delicious). Now that I have access to Mexican food, I think I could actually deal with living here. This weekend, I make French Toast and Terryaki steak. I even made a strawberry vinaigrette so that I might have a salad.
So, we more or less spent the evening looking music we like on youtube. And then, we spent this morning watching youtube videos. He showed me one starring Alan Tudyk, and I flipped out. And told him about my minor Firefly obsession. Much to my surprise, he has heard of Firefly, and pulled up a skype conversation he had with a friend about a Firefly-themed youtube video. This. is. so. happening.
As he didn't have to be to work until late, we walked around Old Arbat for awhile. It is a pretty touristy area, with painting hawkers and souvenir shops everywhere, but the classical architecture and beautiful street more than make up for it. I can't wait to go back with my camera. There is a nice statue to Pushkin outside the Pushkin museum (Pushkin's last home... bright blue), and two My-Mys. It is imperative I get my picture taken with that cow.
We went to Dunkin Donuts, because, hey, fuckin' donuts. I'd actually been craving a donut a few days ago. So I got a slightly crispy crueller with strawberry frosting, and peach sweet tea, which more or less made my day. Oleg got a lemon coolata, and could not drink it. It was explained to me last night that, per Russian mentality, we eat food hot because it aids in digestion, and it is bad for you to drink cold drinks while eating. *Sigh*. Either way, my tea was amazing.
I also learned that Олег doesn't like girls who wear makeup. Which is probably the only reason he likes me... I am probably the only female in this entire country willing to go to the trash chute without makeup. Or he was lying because he didn't have the heart to tell me I looked haggish.
So, I got home way past the time to go to class, and took a bit of a nap. Which is fine, because apparently we got test results back today, and most of the class was just the professor yelling at students. And it is the only Russian class I had missed.
After nap... taco time. Pictures will be on facebook in the future, I promise. They were delicious. I've enough meat left to prove to Oleg that tacos and sharma are not the same thing (alas, we cannot mix cheese and sour cream in, to make them truly delicious). Now that I have access to Mexican food, I think I could actually deal with living here. This weekend, I make French Toast and Terryaki steak. I even made a strawberry vinaigrette so that I might have a salad.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Return...
The trip back from Moscow was odd. I was exhausted, and crawled into the top berth while everyone else was plating cards. Never again. That was just too small of a space. There were cops on the train, who had apparently taken a few drunk men aside and threatened them. They stopped by our area, and threatened to take Chris to jail for playing cards, presumably for gambling (there was no money on the table... they were likely just fishing for bribes.)
It bears mentioning that I consumed the most amazing salad ever on that trip. Pizza Hut here is actually edible, and featured buy-one-get-one small pizzas on the weekdays. But they had the most amazing chef salad. Greens, ham, corn, radishes (that I picked off) and cheddar cheese with some sort of sweet and sour dressing. As much as I hate raw vegetables, it inspired me to try eating salads more here. Lettuce is sort of expensive, and I could not find any sort of non-Caesar salad dressing, so I am going to buy some canned strawberries and vinegar and try to make a vinaigrette.
I'd gone to Ashan twice yesterday, and shall be going back today after class. I've discovered tortilla and taco seasoning so... taco night! Unfortunately, they have changed their layout, which has me incredibly depressed. Like when the Homestead WalMart changed its layout after I left for college... its like there is nothing familiar anymore!
Also, I suppose I should tell y'all, I've a new boyfriend. After one of the most awkward conversations of my life, Олег and I decided to be exclusive. Oh, cultural divides. I pretty much have to stop myself from turning this blog into a ramble about what an amazing guy he is (as much as I know how much he would enjoy it) because it is uninteresting to anyone besides him and I. But yes. So, know I've a Russian boyfriend, and access to a real kitchen in which to cook for aforementioned boyfriend. My mother doesn't seem to want me to come home anymore.
But more sad news... Apparently my cat back home has disappeared. She's been gone for several weeks, and female cats who are used to being fed copious amounts of people food every day aren't prone to wander. So that is a upsetting me.
It bears mentioning that I consumed the most amazing salad ever on that trip. Pizza Hut here is actually edible, and featured buy-one-get-one small pizzas on the weekdays. But they had the most amazing chef salad. Greens, ham, corn, radishes (that I picked off) and cheddar cheese with some sort of sweet and sour dressing. As much as I hate raw vegetables, it inspired me to try eating salads more here. Lettuce is sort of expensive, and I could not find any sort of non-Caesar salad dressing, so I am going to buy some canned strawberries and vinegar and try to make a vinaigrette.
I'd gone to Ashan twice yesterday, and shall be going back today after class. I've discovered tortilla and taco seasoning so... taco night! Unfortunately, they have changed their layout, which has me incredibly depressed. Like when the Homestead WalMart changed its layout after I left for college... its like there is nothing familiar anymore!
Also, I suppose I should tell y'all, I've a new boyfriend. After one of the most awkward conversations of my life, Олег and I decided to be exclusive. Oh, cultural divides. I pretty much have to stop myself from turning this blog into a ramble about what an amazing guy he is (as much as I know how much he would enjoy it) because it is uninteresting to anyone besides him and I. But yes. So, know I've a Russian boyfriend, and access to a real kitchen in which to cook for aforementioned boyfriend. My mother doesn't seem to want me to come home anymore.
But more sad news... Apparently my cat back home has disappeared. She's been gone for several weeks, and female cats who are used to being fed copious amounts of people food every day aren't prone to wander. So that is a upsetting me.
Monday, March 14, 2011
St. Petersburg (Part III)
Addendum: St. Petersburg is actually younger than Moscow, but seens older because it has more classical buildings.
Well, our final night in the hostel proved most eventful. Once again, everyone was LAME and decied not to go out. We made friends with another couple of people in the hostel, and decide to stay in drink with them. Depending on who you ask, this was either a horrible idea or... well, maybe a neutral/bad one. Essentially, this one Ukrainian guy made me drink vodka with pepper in it (like everything else here that isn't sitting on cold steps, it is considered "good for your health.") It didn't take much time for the Ukrianian dude to start hitting on me, saying things to Grisha to translate (he didn't speak Russian, and didn't know I understood what he was saying.) Grisha would kind of smile, look at me, and just explain "he really likes you." Yeah, I got that. At one point in time, he smacked my ass. I tried telling Grisha that he could not keep pawning me off on every guy he claimed was a "good guy,"/encourage me to sleep with every dude that bought me a drink, but he got a little belligerent. After a sharma run (SHARMA) I went to bed.
Apparently, random drunk Ukrainian dude does not put all of his eggs in one basket. After I rejected him (does it count as rejection if I just literally run away?) he went after one of the American girls, rather successfully. I don't know what went down, I just know she was really depressed, and everyone found out about it pretty quick. Then, after we went to bed, he forced himself into our room about 4am, and the two other girls had to force him out and lock the door. I bravely watched from my bed. Then, he proceeded to knock on our door for about 20 minutes. Not. Fun.
The next morning, we got up to visit the Hermitage. well, first we visited St. Isaac's Basilica. And I thought Peter and Paul looked Catholic... this church looked like a mini-Vatican. Yes, a little lighter. The crazy thing was, it was partially a church, partially a museum. There were 6 (6!!!) gift shops and an ATM within the body of the church (!!!!), but one of the alcoves actually had a service going on. Then, Marina bought us tickets to the Collonnade, so we were able to scale the 250+ steps to go around the dome. From there, we could see the entire city. Most beautiful. One of the boys got very serious vertigo, poor dear.
From there, half of us went to the Hermitage, and the other half (2/3 of the males) decided they didn't want to stand in line 2 hours to go to a museum, and went to the Peter I museum. That museum features mostly oddities Peter the Great picked up around Europe... including way too many fetuses, apparently.
We decided to brave the cold and the line, and soldiered through. And it was worth it. I saw some really amazing art... Monets, Van Goghs. I saw my first Botticellis, da Vincis, and Lippis, which is rediculous because you'd think I'd have seen these things in Italy. Besides the art (still amazing) the building itself was phenomenal... several rooms of the palace were on display, and we joked that the entire place should be a museum to ceilings. Unfortunately, between the line and the time spent at St. Isaacs, and the fact that it was Sunday and they closed hours early, we only had a few hours. Word of advice: go when you have at least an entire day, if not more, to spend.
Well, our final night in the hostel proved most eventful. Once again, everyone was LAME and decied not to go out. We made friends with another couple of people in the hostel, and decide to stay in drink with them. Depending on who you ask, this was either a horrible idea or... well, maybe a neutral/bad one. Essentially, this one Ukrainian guy made me drink vodka with pepper in it (like everything else here that isn't sitting on cold steps, it is considered "good for your health.") It didn't take much time for the Ukrianian dude to start hitting on me, saying things to Grisha to translate (he didn't speak Russian, and didn't know I understood what he was saying.) Grisha would kind of smile, look at me, and just explain "he really likes you." Yeah, I got that. At one point in time, he smacked my ass. I tried telling Grisha that he could not keep pawning me off on every guy he claimed was a "good guy,"/encourage me to sleep with every dude that bought me a drink, but he got a little belligerent. After a sharma run (SHARMA) I went to bed.
Apparently, random drunk Ukrainian dude does not put all of his eggs in one basket. After I rejected him (does it count as rejection if I just literally run away?) he went after one of the American girls, rather successfully. I don't know what went down, I just know she was really depressed, and everyone found out about it pretty quick. Then, after we went to bed, he forced himself into our room about 4am, and the two other girls had to force him out and lock the door. I bravely watched from my bed. Then, he proceeded to knock on our door for about 20 minutes. Not. Fun.
The next morning, we got up to visit the Hermitage. well, first we visited St. Isaac's Basilica. And I thought Peter and Paul looked Catholic... this church looked like a mini-Vatican. Yes, a little lighter. The crazy thing was, it was partially a church, partially a museum. There were 6 (6!!!) gift shops and an ATM within the body of the church (!!!!), but one of the alcoves actually had a service going on. Then, Marina bought us tickets to the Collonnade, so we were able to scale the 250+ steps to go around the dome. From there, we could see the entire city. Most beautiful. One of the boys got very serious vertigo, poor dear.
From there, half of us went to the Hermitage, and the other half (2/3 of the males) decided they didn't want to stand in line 2 hours to go to a museum, and went to the Peter I museum. That museum features mostly oddities Peter the Great picked up around Europe... including way too many fetuses, apparently.
We decided to brave the cold and the line, and soldiered through. And it was worth it. I saw some really amazing art... Monets, Van Goghs. I saw my first Botticellis, da Vincis, and Lippis, which is rediculous because you'd think I'd have seen these things in Italy. Besides the art (still amazing) the building itself was phenomenal... several rooms of the palace were on display, and we joked that the entire place should be a museum to ceilings. Unfortunately, between the line and the time spent at St. Isaacs, and the fact that it was Sunday and they closed hours early, we only had a few hours. Word of advice: go when you have at least an entire day, if not more, to spend.
Saturday, March 12, 2011
St. Petersburg (Part II)
We awoke this morning to a text from Marina saying we were leaving at 10. I had to try several times to wake up the boys, and then they yelled at me for not waking them up earlier. W.T.F.
The two boys who went to the strip club... well, one had an ok time, and one had way too much fun. One spent about $90 and then just hid in the corner playing solitaire. Another decided that he spend about $500, buy a bottle of champagne, and go off into the mist with some girls. Dun Dun Dun. Long story short, certain things are more ok at strip clubs here than they are in the U.S., he ended up naked in a hot tub with two girls, too drunk to do anything too productive, and (per the credit card reciept he saw the next morning) $2500 down.
So, we went from here to get breakfast down the street at what we thought was a bagel shop. It was more of a Starbucks... a coffee shop (I think called Coffee Shop) with like 6 menu items. A bit overpriced, but the food was decent. I am starting to feel an affinity to Russia street food. Or so I say until the brainwashing aliens I daily consume make it to my brain...
From there we went to Peter and Paul fortress. We went in the Cathedral, and that was pretty neat. It looked NOTHING like most Orthodox churches, and more like a Catholic Church from the Continent, for obvious reasons. For reasons I don't quite understand, we ended up spending like 30 minutes in the gift shop. I went to go snuggle a kitty that lived there for awhile.... ah, Saint Petersburg and its cats.
We then visited a torture museum. I mean, one of the boys had a point... you see one torture museum, you've seen them all. But as someone who has been quoted as saying that the only place my life could logically lead to is Inquisition Porn, I always like to keep up on my research. I think the best part was the voice of the English audio tour seemed to enjoy his job too much, and was very giddy when he explained such things as "water torture." I mean, literally, giddy.
Us girls also went to an exhibit they started today on dresses of the late Victorian Era to 1930's. It was mostly pictures, and tons of exhibits of shapewear (corsets, bumrolls, crinolines, and the like.) The boys opted to stay outside.
We also went to some other random museum there. At first, I was pretty unimpressed... it started off like a military museum/random early history museum. But then things got cultural... womens clothing, purses, dining services. The best part was def. this 7 foot tall, scale model of an 1880's St. Petersburg apartment block.
Then we visited the prison. Honestly, not too interesting. There were dozens upon dozens of cells, more or less decorated exactly the same, on display. I was mostly just annoyed that they were bigger than my dorm room.
So, we decided to walk to a big battleship about 15 minutes away, but it was closed once we got there. So, we came home to Nevsky Prospect. We went to Teremok, but I wasn't quite hungry, so... came home and took a nap. I just walked down to KFC a little while ago, had a little snacky, and made it home. All by myself. No kidnapping attempts. I feel myself getting more confident, little by little. Also, fun fact: there is a Sex Shop in the alley below our hotel. I really want to go, but Sex Shop down a dark ally in a foreign country sounds like a bad idea.
Right now, we are all just chilling, watching the ManU game, waiting for it to end to go out to ze bar/club.
From what little I've witnessed, St. Petersburg seems like Boston to Moscow's New York. A little older, maybe a little cleaner, but nearly as exciting. And things it better than everyone else. With less immigrants.
The two boys who went to the strip club... well, one had an ok time, and one had way too much fun. One spent about $90 and then just hid in the corner playing solitaire. Another decided that he spend about $500, buy a bottle of champagne, and go off into the mist with some girls. Dun Dun Dun. Long story short, certain things are more ok at strip clubs here than they are in the U.S., he ended up naked in a hot tub with two girls, too drunk to do anything too productive, and (per the credit card reciept he saw the next morning) $2500 down.
So, we went from here to get breakfast down the street at what we thought was a bagel shop. It was more of a Starbucks... a coffee shop (I think called Coffee Shop) with like 6 menu items. A bit overpriced, but the food was decent. I am starting to feel an affinity to Russia street food. Or so I say until the brainwashing aliens I daily consume make it to my brain...
From there we went to Peter and Paul fortress. We went in the Cathedral, and that was pretty neat. It looked NOTHING like most Orthodox churches, and more like a Catholic Church from the Continent, for obvious reasons. For reasons I don't quite understand, we ended up spending like 30 minutes in the gift shop. I went to go snuggle a kitty that lived there for awhile.... ah, Saint Petersburg and its cats.
We then visited a torture museum. I mean, one of the boys had a point... you see one torture museum, you've seen them all. But as someone who has been quoted as saying that the only place my life could logically lead to is Inquisition Porn, I always like to keep up on my research. I think the best part was the voice of the English audio tour seemed to enjoy his job too much, and was very giddy when he explained such things as "water torture." I mean, literally, giddy.
Us girls also went to an exhibit they started today on dresses of the late Victorian Era to 1930's. It was mostly pictures, and tons of exhibits of shapewear (corsets, bumrolls, crinolines, and the like.) The boys opted to stay outside.
We also went to some other random museum there. At first, I was pretty unimpressed... it started off like a military museum/random early history museum. But then things got cultural... womens clothing, purses, dining services. The best part was def. this 7 foot tall, scale model of an 1880's St. Petersburg apartment block.
Then we visited the prison. Honestly, not too interesting. There were dozens upon dozens of cells, more or less decorated exactly the same, on display. I was mostly just annoyed that they were bigger than my dorm room.
So, we decided to walk to a big battleship about 15 minutes away, but it was closed once we got there. So, we came home to Nevsky Prospect. We went to Teremok, but I wasn't quite hungry, so... came home and took a nap. I just walked down to KFC a little while ago, had a little snacky, and made it home. All by myself. No kidnapping attempts. I feel myself getting more confident, little by little. Also, fun fact: there is a Sex Shop in the alley below our hotel. I really want to go, but Sex Shop down a dark ally in a foreign country sounds like a bad idea.
Right now, we are all just chilling, watching the ManU game, waiting for it to end to go out to ze bar/club.
From what little I've witnessed, St. Petersburg seems like Boston to Moscow's New York. A little older, maybe a little cleaner, but nearly as exciting. And things it better than everyone else. With less immigrants.
Friday, March 11, 2011
St. Petersburg (Part II)
So, I must admit, I am becoming one of those shameless Americans who eats at American restaurants while abroad. It's disgusting, I know... I don't even eat at chain restaurants while traveling in the US. But, in my defense... American food is just much better here.
After waking up from my nap (alone. in my room. in a hostel. in a strange city=momentary panic attack) we all set out for food. Several of the boys wanted to go to a Hardee's they found (something I wouldn't touch in America with a stick), and I let myself be carried off to Pizza Hut (somewhere else I avoid in the US). Surprisingly, reasonable prices. By which I mean, I bought a personal pizza for 189p, and got a second pizza free! So, that was awesome. They have a lunch special of like 200p for soup, salad, pizza or pasta, and a drink, so we'll likely be returning.
After that, I went to join the rest of the boys, who planned to go a-partying. Alas, they wanted to go to a strip club, and I haven't the money nor energy to blow, so three of us just wandered the streets for a while, looking for a jazz club. No luck. We found a cheap bar, but it was packed, and not somewhere to have a single relaxing drink. Another Irish bar was packed. Another was closed (at 10pm on a Saturday!!!)
St. Petersburg differs from Moscow in a couple of ways. Its a bit cleaner, and the people are more friendly. Also, its fucking wet. But there were no street vendors. All over Moscow, you can get beer, cigarettes, a new heel for your shoes, a bouquet of flowers, a pereshok, and a deck of cards, within 20 feet of each other. i went into 4 stores trying to find a bottle of Mirinda (a yummier Fanta... if you drink it, Fanta will lose its allure). So that was annoying.
Which is why, a week after the last time I went to a club and danced (7 days!!!! I'm dying!!!) I am lying in bed at 11 on a Friday night bitching to you.
After waking up from my nap (alone. in my room. in a hostel. in a strange city=momentary panic attack) we all set out for food. Several of the boys wanted to go to a Hardee's they found (something I wouldn't touch in America with a stick), and I let myself be carried off to Pizza Hut (somewhere else I avoid in the US). Surprisingly, reasonable prices. By which I mean, I bought a personal pizza for 189p, and got a second pizza free! So, that was awesome. They have a lunch special of like 200p for soup, salad, pizza or pasta, and a drink, so we'll likely be returning.
After that, I went to join the rest of the boys, who planned to go a-partying. Alas, they wanted to go to a strip club, and I haven't the money nor energy to blow, so three of us just wandered the streets for a while, looking for a jazz club. No luck. We found a cheap bar, but it was packed, and not somewhere to have a single relaxing drink. Another Irish bar was packed. Another was closed (at 10pm on a Saturday!!!)
St. Petersburg differs from Moscow in a couple of ways. Its a bit cleaner, and the people are more friendly. Also, its fucking wet. But there were no street vendors. All over Moscow, you can get beer, cigarettes, a new heel for your shoes, a bouquet of flowers, a pereshok, and a deck of cards, within 20 feet of each other. i went into 4 stores trying to find a bottle of Mirinda (a yummier Fanta... if you drink it, Fanta will lose its allure). So that was annoying.
Which is why, a week after the last time I went to a club and danced (7 days!!!! I'm dying!!!) I am lying in bed at 11 on a Friday night bitching to you.
St. Petersburg... I guess
The title of this post is suck because, really, I've seen almost none of St. Petersburg so far. This is largely my fault.
We got into town about 6am, but were unable to check into our hostel until 1pm. So, we went to chill at a Coffee House. We were only there a few minutes, when I realized my phone was out of minutes, so three of us returned to the station so I could put money in it, and, low and behold... SHARMA. When we got back to the Coffee House, nobody believed we found it, until I was able to pull the leftovers out of my pocket. Then, everyone else left for Sharma.
I felt bad for the possibility of sleeping there for 5 hours without ordering anything, so I ordered a very overpriced chocolate shake. Worst. Idea. Ever. For those of you who don't know, I don't drink milk in the States. Not a medical reason or anything... just an irrational fear. I like cooking with it, but milk itslef... kind of weirds me out. This shake (approx. $6, btw) was a. vanilla, and b. 80% milk. It was so milk it wasn't even cold. Besides the fact that much of the milk in Russia is what I would deem as a little sketchy... there are about 1500 varieties (slight overexxagueration) and it is likely the milk they were giving me was the sort that has been powdered, then watered and placed in a box so that it might survive nuclear apocolypse. My tummy has been back-flipping all moring.
Soon after I feel asleep to several of the Americans discussing Operating Systems and networks and several other things that don't matter much to me and are unpleasant to dream about (I'll let you guess which ones) they decided to take us to the hostel. Luckily, it was really close by. Having never stayed in a hostel, I was a little concerned.
He had to turn a corner, and go a litte down an ally, then get let into a staircase area. Up 5 flights of stairs. Oh, the legendary walk-ups. Finally, inside... the place is beautiful. Hardwood floors, a nice kitchen area eith a water cooler and free tea and coffee. They let us lock up our bags and brush our teeth and freshen up so we could explore before we could check in. Most pleasant. And scary amonts of cheap. $300-$900p/night, depending on occupancy and season. So, essentially, you could get a single room here, in the high season, for $30 a night. Crazy.
From here, we went to the State Museum of Russia. Beautiful. I was really impressed when I recognized of one the paintings... which naturally I now cannot find nor remember. A few of the other paintings really touched me, primarily a giant one "The Last Day of Pompeii" and "Sadka." I found a postcard of Sdaka, and another postcard of a painting I didn't actually see, but was "wtf" enough for me to want it on my wall.
When we departed... it was snowingly like crazy. We devided into two camps: those who wanted to explore some more, and those who needed naps. Much to my shame, I fell in the latter. I trudged to a fast-food place with the boys, indulged in my beloved fountain Coca Cola (SALDOM!) and checked into the hostel.
BEAUTIFUL. I had joked that I would be very disappointed if our room here was nicer than the dorms. It is. Yes, I share it with two girls, but it is like 4 times bigger, bright and clean, with Chinese lanterns and a decent view. I took a shower (figuring this might be the last time my hair could dry) and... modern showers! I am immensely happy.
We got into town about 6am, but were unable to check into our hostel until 1pm. So, we went to chill at a Coffee House. We were only there a few minutes, when I realized my phone was out of minutes, so three of us returned to the station so I could put money in it, and, low and behold... SHARMA. When we got back to the Coffee House, nobody believed we found it, until I was able to pull the leftovers out of my pocket. Then, everyone else left for Sharma.
I felt bad for the possibility of sleeping there for 5 hours without ordering anything, so I ordered a very overpriced chocolate shake. Worst. Idea. Ever. For those of you who don't know, I don't drink milk in the States. Not a medical reason or anything... just an irrational fear. I like cooking with it, but milk itslef... kind of weirds me out. This shake (approx. $6, btw) was a. vanilla, and b. 80% milk. It was so milk it wasn't even cold. Besides the fact that much of the milk in Russia is what I would deem as a little sketchy... there are about 1500 varieties (slight overexxagueration) and it is likely the milk they were giving me was the sort that has been powdered, then watered and placed in a box so that it might survive nuclear apocolypse. My tummy has been back-flipping all moring.
Soon after I feel asleep to several of the Americans discussing Operating Systems and networks and several other things that don't matter much to me and are unpleasant to dream about (I'll let you guess which ones) they decided to take us to the hostel. Luckily, it was really close by. Having never stayed in a hostel, I was a little concerned.
He had to turn a corner, and go a litte down an ally, then get let into a staircase area. Up 5 flights of stairs. Oh, the legendary walk-ups. Finally, inside... the place is beautiful. Hardwood floors, a nice kitchen area eith a water cooler and free tea and coffee. They let us lock up our bags and brush our teeth and freshen up so we could explore before we could check in. Most pleasant. And scary amonts of cheap. $300-$900p/night, depending on occupancy and season. So, essentially, you could get a single room here, in the high season, for $30 a night. Crazy.
From here, we went to the State Museum of Russia. Beautiful. I was really impressed when I recognized of one the paintings... which naturally I now cannot find nor remember. A few of the other paintings really touched me, primarily a giant one "The Last Day of Pompeii" and "Sadka." I found a postcard of Sdaka, and another postcard of a painting I didn't actually see, but was "wtf" enough for me to want it on my wall.
When we departed... it was snowingly like crazy. We devided into two camps: those who wanted to explore some more, and those who needed naps. Much to my shame, I fell in the latter. I trudged to a fast-food place with the boys, indulged in my beloved fountain Coca Cola (SALDOM!) and checked into the hostel.
BEAUTIFUL. I had joked that I would be very disappointed if our room here was nicer than the dorms. It is. Yes, I share it with two girls, but it is like 4 times bigger, bright and clean, with Chinese lanterns and a decent view. I took a shower (figuring this might be the last time my hair could dry) and... modern showers! I am immensely happy.
Midnight Train (part II)
Oh. My. God. I forgot to tell you about the most scarring part of this trip. The station bathrooms.
We make it to the station last night, and were told that the restrooms on the train were closed for the first two hours of the trip, and so were told to use the restroom before we left. First we had to travel downstairs. It cost 20p, but I paid it, just because I had already gone so far. On the wall, there was something "fashion vending." You paid 50p for... a hair straightener. i would have taken a picture if I wasn't afraid of getting yelled at by the cleaning attendants. So, we went to another room for the toilets and... no toilets. Literally, holes in the floor. I decided I didn't want to be adventurous. Not that I'm not adventurous in general, but rather traveling makes me feel dirty, and I didn't need to add to that.
We make it to the station last night, and were told that the restrooms on the train were closed for the first two hours of the trip, and so were told to use the restroom before we left. First we had to travel downstairs. It cost 20p, but I paid it, just because I had already gone so far. On the wall, there was something "fashion vending." You paid 50p for... a hair straightener. i would have taken a picture if I wasn't afraid of getting yelled at by the cleaning attendants. So, we went to another room for the toilets and... no toilets. Literally, holes in the floor. I decided I didn't want to be adventurous. Not that I'm not adventurous in general, but rather traveling makes me feel dirty, and I didn't need to add to that.
...took a midnight train going ANYWHERE
We left Moscow around 10pm last night to spend the weekend in St. Petersburg. Adventure time.
So, the train was, like most things, more or less not far from what I expected, largely because I've learned to not have expectations. On one side, there are 4 berths (two sets of two... I requested the bottom, on account of my stature), and on the other, one, plus a table and two seats that fold down into another. I shared a little sleeping area with the 2 other girls and Chris. The rest of the boys were mostly in the adjoining area.
We started playing some rather fun sort of card game Stephanie brought, but then I went to join the boys, who were drinking and telling stories. We were eventually joined by Marina's daughter. As they turned the lights off, and most people were going to bed, we decided to retire to the dining car to continue talking.
This little dining car was incredibly overpriced, but we had just had an entire conversation about the food we miss from back home (Mexican and fried food, mostly) and I knew that if I didn't get a snack, I would lie in bed that night craving fried things. So I ordered some french fries and listened in amusement as one of the Americans tried to hit on Anastasia. I finally decided to retire, and brought her with me. Poor girl. Very sweet. Has no idea what these crazy boys have in store for her.
Also, my life would be so much easier and cheaper for me if I drank beer. It is so cheap in Europe, cheaper than water in some places. i just cannot stomach the stuff.
Slept well enough on the train, and was awoken about 10 minutes before we were arriving. Not too much to tell. We are sitting at a Coffee House until 1pm (it is 730 now) to check into the hostel. Oh, a few of us ran back to the station so I could add some money to my phone (an unexpected expense... I need to stop drunk-texting), and we found SHARMA! Thats the Russian version of kebab. Amazing.
So, the train was, like most things, more or less not far from what I expected, largely because I've learned to not have expectations. On one side, there are 4 berths (two sets of two... I requested the bottom, on account of my stature), and on the other, one, plus a table and two seats that fold down into another. I shared a little sleeping area with the 2 other girls and Chris. The rest of the boys were mostly in the adjoining area.
We started playing some rather fun sort of card game Stephanie brought, but then I went to join the boys, who were drinking and telling stories. We were eventually joined by Marina's daughter. As they turned the lights off, and most people were going to bed, we decided to retire to the dining car to continue talking.
This little dining car was incredibly overpriced, but we had just had an entire conversation about the food we miss from back home (Mexican and fried food, mostly) and I knew that if I didn't get a snack, I would lie in bed that night craving fried things. So I ordered some french fries and listened in amusement as one of the Americans tried to hit on Anastasia. I finally decided to retire, and brought her with me. Poor girl. Very sweet. Has no idea what these crazy boys have in store for her.
Also, my life would be so much easier and cheaper for me if I drank beer. It is so cheap in Europe, cheaper than water in some places. i just cannot stomach the stuff.
Slept well enough on the train, and was awoken about 10 minutes before we were arriving. Not too much to tell. We are sitting at a Coffee House until 1pm (it is 730 now) to check into the hostel. Oh, a few of us ran back to the station so I could add some money to my phone (an unexpected expense... I need to stop drunk-texting), and we found SHARMA! Thats the Russian version of kebab. Amazing.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
(Continued)
I still don't understand why people are so nice to me. Most people seem completely unaware of what a horrible person I am. Grisha took me to the pharmacy and was able to get me some Amoxicillin. I was a little worried by the way he asked me three times if I knew how to take them if Russian antibiotics are suppositories or something. But, it was very kind of him to do. So, hopefully, within a few days, I'll feel less like death.
Yes, I woke up Sunday morning feeling like death. Much to his credit, Олег spent much of the day taking care of me... feeding me soup, making me tea, and allowing me to nap. I went back over to his house in the evening, where I learned a couple of insightful, if crazy things.
First, a story. As I have learned, all Russians I have met have been to Crimea a time or two. And they all want to show me pictures of Crimea, which is fine by me, as I love looking at pictures. Олег had a picture of a cigarette warning label in Ukrainian, which apparently read, "Warning: cigarette smoking causes erectile dysfunction." The man who was handed the pack handed it back to the teller, and said, "No, no... give me the one about cancer."
Also, I've learned that Russians will do everything in their power to get out of cleaning blankets. When I moved in, I couldn't figure out why one of my sheets was sewn closed on three sides. Apparently, these are blanket covers. You put your comforter in it, so that the comforter stays clean. This process takes like 20 minutes, and is painful to watch. I was told jokingly that it was the primary reason to catch a wife... so somebody else would do this. I responded with, "don't marry an American. She'll think you're crazy and just wash the damn blanket." In addition to all of this, there is a sort of duster, a blanket you put on top of the comforter when you are not sleeping to keep the blanket clean. Oh, those crazy Russians!
The good news is, I made it through 2 out of 3 classes today, didn't die, feel a little better, and I have meds! And I leave tomorrow for St. Pete! Yay!
Yes, I woke up Sunday morning feeling like death. Much to his credit, Олег spent much of the day taking care of me... feeding me soup, making me tea, and allowing me to nap. I went back over to his house in the evening, where I learned a couple of insightful, if crazy things.
First, a story. As I have learned, all Russians I have met have been to Crimea a time or two. And they all want to show me pictures of Crimea, which is fine by me, as I love looking at pictures. Олег had a picture of a cigarette warning label in Ukrainian, which apparently read, "Warning: cigarette smoking causes erectile dysfunction." The man who was handed the pack handed it back to the teller, and said, "No, no... give me the one about cancer."
Also, I've learned that Russians will do everything in their power to get out of cleaning blankets. When I moved in, I couldn't figure out why one of my sheets was sewn closed on three sides. Apparently, these are blanket covers. You put your comforter in it, so that the comforter stays clean. This process takes like 20 minutes, and is painful to watch. I was told jokingly that it was the primary reason to catch a wife... so somebody else would do this. I responded with, "don't marry an American. She'll think you're crazy and just wash the damn blanket." In addition to all of this, there is a sort of duster, a blanket you put on top of the comforter when you are not sleeping to keep the blanket clean. Oh, those crazy Russians!
The good news is, I made it through 2 out of 3 classes today, didn't die, feel a little better, and I have meds! And I leave tomorrow for St. Pete! Yay!
... and that went even better (Part II)
Sorry about that. I've come down with my usual, "my body wants me dead" tonsillitis case I get every three months or so. Back to the story...
After Kolomenskaya, Олег and I went downtown to find some sort of food. We ended up at "Shakespeare: bar and restaurant," which I somehow had already seen and taken pictures of in my wanderings. Like everything in Moscow, it was tad over-priced, but quite amazing. I had delicious stroganoff, and was upset that the portion sizes were big enough that I couldn't even finish. The decor of this place (which was underground) was both calming and traditional... the walls were hung with dozens of Pre-Raphealite prints, and I pointed out the Waterhouses (my favorite painter).
From there, we decided to wander some more. We walked through ЦУМ for awhile... Leave it to Rachel to locate a mall MORE EXPENSIVE than ГУМ. But that doesn't really matter. Nobody, I think, actually buys anything in these malls. The few people I do see holding shopping bags, I silently make up back stories for them... presumably the wives and daughters and mistresses of oligarchs. Some of the clothes were quite nice, D&G and Armani and the like. Some were quite horrible... One store featured a rack of shiny, sequined, shoulder-padded, Michael-Jackson-esque jackets. For hundreds upon hundreds of dollars. *shudder*
After we tired of exploring the mall, we decided to go back to Олег's. Yes, I know... a lady probably shouldn't be going to a man's apartment on the first date. But he had a hookah, and I was enjoying myself far too much to go home quite yet.
A note on that: Contrary to what Denner and my grandmother have drilled in my head about Russian boys, Олег was absolutely beyond the perfect gentleman. I don't know if I have ever been treated so well by a man, which isn't to say I'm not usually treated well. But he usually held my hand or arm, and held the small of my back when we had to step somewhere (such as onto the metro or escalator) as if afraid I was going to fall. I'm really not used to such affection, but found it very nice, and comforting.
So, Олег lives in a small but cozy apartment not too far from the university. Too be honest, I don't think I have every met a bachelor who keeps his house so clean. So, we smoked hookah, and listened to Middle Eastern music for while, and then watched a film.
We went for a walk through a nearby forest. It was quite beautiful, and peaceful... away from the noises and pollution of the city. Still, I am not accustomed to going through snow-covered, frightening woods at night, and expressed my concern. Олег, being immensely helpful, explained how there was a murdered who killed about 15 people in these woods about 10 years ago. He had been caught, and it was on the other side of the woods, but people walked through it during that time like nothing was going on. Oh, and there were rumors of pagan temples were sacrifices were made... Yeah, not a big help.
I must prepare for class, now. I was awake all night ill, and missed my first class. I am still trying to get ahold of my program director about getting antibiotics or seeing a doctor, as I cannot keep this illness up too much longer, especially when we leave for St. Pete tomorrow (and I'll likely get no rest).
After Kolomenskaya, Олег and I went downtown to find some sort of food. We ended up at "Shakespeare: bar and restaurant," which I somehow had already seen and taken pictures of in my wanderings. Like everything in Moscow, it was tad over-priced, but quite amazing. I had delicious stroganoff, and was upset that the portion sizes were big enough that I couldn't even finish. The decor of this place (which was underground) was both calming and traditional... the walls were hung with dozens of Pre-Raphealite prints, and I pointed out the Waterhouses (my favorite painter).
From there, we decided to wander some more. We walked through ЦУМ for awhile... Leave it to Rachel to locate a mall MORE EXPENSIVE than ГУМ. But that doesn't really matter. Nobody, I think, actually buys anything in these malls. The few people I do see holding shopping bags, I silently make up back stories for them... presumably the wives and daughters and mistresses of oligarchs. Some of the clothes were quite nice, D&G and Armani and the like. Some were quite horrible... One store featured a rack of shiny, sequined, shoulder-padded, Michael-Jackson-esque jackets. For hundreds upon hundreds of dollars. *shudder*
After we tired of exploring the mall, we decided to go back to Олег's. Yes, I know... a lady probably shouldn't be going to a man's apartment on the first date. But he had a hookah, and I was enjoying myself far too much to go home quite yet.
A note on that: Contrary to what Denner and my grandmother have drilled in my head about Russian boys, Олег was absolutely beyond the perfect gentleman. I don't know if I have ever been treated so well by a man, which isn't to say I'm not usually treated well. But he usually held my hand or arm, and held the small of my back when we had to step somewhere (such as onto the metro or escalator) as if afraid I was going to fall. I'm really not used to such affection, but found it very nice, and comforting.
So, Олег lives in a small but cozy apartment not too far from the university. Too be honest, I don't think I have every met a bachelor who keeps his house so clean. So, we smoked hookah, and listened to Middle Eastern music for while, and then watched a film.
We went for a walk through a nearby forest. It was quite beautiful, and peaceful... away from the noises and pollution of the city. Still, I am not accustomed to going through snow-covered, frightening woods at night, and expressed my concern. Олег, being immensely helpful, explained how there was a murdered who killed about 15 people in these woods about 10 years ago. He had been caught, and it was on the other side of the woods, but people walked through it during that time like nothing was going on. Oh, and there were rumors of pagan temples were sacrifices were made... Yeah, not a big help.
I must prepare for class, now. I was awake all night ill, and missed my first class. I am still trying to get ahold of my program director about getting antibiotics or seeing a doctor, as I cannot keep this illness up too much longer, especially when we leave for St. Pete tomorrow (and I'll likely get no rest).
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
...and that went even better
So, I apologize for what will probably be a long blog post. I've been away from my computer for over two days, and much has happened.
So, I went Sunday to meet Олег at Kolomenskaya. I was running a few minutes late, as I am not quite certain of public transport, and how much time it takes to get places, especially when I have to switch metro lines. It wasn't a big deal: Russians overestimate the amount of time it takes to get anywhere. Always. But he was early, and explained that it is expected a woman be a few minutes late.
There were drones of people at Kolomenskaya. I mean, it was a festival. There were people selling goods everywhere... We went into the main church there, which is, I believe, the first Orthodox church I've visited that was still in use, and not currently a museum. There were candles everywhere, and everyone was lighting candles and saying prayers. At the door, there was a man handing out scarves to give to women to cover their heads. It was so very beautiful.
So, after that we waled around some. Part of the park had a sort of carnival, with rides for children and stands selling blini. We decided not to eat there, and to make it into the city. All the while, we talked and joked. I think the most interesting thing I learned was that Siberians are known for being very healthy. In some parts of the area, newborn babies are put into an oven (not on the fire, obviously, but just in the hot oven...) for like 10 seconds, while the mother is held back from grabbing it. This makes the child healthy in the long run, supposedly...
...ok. Just got back from supper. I've class in like 8 hours. Must. go. to. bed. More tomorrow.
So, I went Sunday to meet Олег at Kolomenskaya. I was running a few minutes late, as I am not quite certain of public transport, and how much time it takes to get places, especially when I have to switch metro lines. It wasn't a big deal: Russians overestimate the amount of time it takes to get anywhere. Always. But he was early, and explained that it is expected a woman be a few minutes late.
There were drones of people at Kolomenskaya. I mean, it was a festival. There were people selling goods everywhere... We went into the main church there, which is, I believe, the first Orthodox church I've visited that was still in use, and not currently a museum. There were candles everywhere, and everyone was lighting candles and saying prayers. At the door, there was a man handing out scarves to give to women to cover their heads. It was so very beautiful.
So, after that we waled around some. Part of the park had a sort of carnival, with rides for children and stands selling blini. We decided not to eat there, and to make it into the city. All the while, we talked and joked. I think the most interesting thing I learned was that Siberians are known for being very healthy. In some parts of the area, newborn babies are put into an oven (not on the fire, obviously, but just in the hot oven...) for like 10 seconds, while the mother is held back from grabbing it. This makes the child healthy in the long run, supposedly...
...ok. Just got back from supper. I've class in like 8 hours. Must. go. to. bed. More tomorrow.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Well... that went well...
So, the night after I was all depressed on account of Cute Czech boy, I had a pretty damn near amazing night. That's Moscow for you... ok, the people aren't always incredibly, ok, the food is rich, and ok, its fucking cold. However, you are always meeting new people, having zany experiences, and just all-around GOING PLACES.
I wasn't feeling up to going out, and I really wanted to take Nikita to dinner for his pains the night before. Alas, he was busy studying, so I begrudgingly joined the Americans going to a party.
Here's the story: one of the Americans had a friend from her university back home. He is currently an intern at the American embassy. He invited us all to his apartment for a little soiree.
So, it was essentially our little ragtag group of American students, a few very nice interns, and like 4 Russians that were friends with one of the guys. We hung out for a couple of hours, talking. I know for certain I am shooting for a job at the embassy. I also met a wonderful guy, a Jewish lawyer named Олег. We made plans to go to Kolomenskaya for Maslenitsa.
Also, how we learned he is Jewish... One of the girls at the party was Caucasion. Alec said she looked it, but I honestly couldn't tell... I guess a rounder face than most Russians, but red hair and whatnot. And Олег said that most Russian girls want to marry a Caucasian. I asked why. He said because they don't drink, they respect their parents, are more gentle (presumably Russian code for "less likely to beat you") and dark good looks. And I respond with, "like how everyone in America wants their daughters to marry Jews." And Олег responded with the usual amount of incredulity.
Side note: I attract three sorts of people in life.... gays, Jews, and the affluent. I have already discussed the random rich/powerful girls I met here. I shall discuss the gay friends shortly. But Jews in Russia happen to love me. I'm guessing it because Russians generally REALLY HATE JEWS. I know I've mentioned this before. So, the second I mention that my best friend back home is Jewish, or that I belong to a hillel, or even my name (common enough in America, but obviously a Jewish name and not a Russian one), or even that in America people are ok with Jews, they feel that they can be themselves around me. Its like a gay guy playing it straight... Acting a certain way around most people (like Russians...) and then opening up and being themselves when they meet people who aren't going to judge and/or beat them for being who they are. Nikita literally introduces his friends to me as, "This is ---. He is also a Jew." Random cultural observation.
So. Club time. We left the Russians, including my adorable lawyer, and made our way... Hell, I don't know where we went. I never know. I can never even pronounce the clubs we go to. I need to start collecting cards. All I know is we got on the metro, then more or less walked for a half and hour or so. In the snow. Word was there was a club with a bunch of U.S. Marines... even the DJ was a Marine. So, we used his name to get into this place.
On the way, I was talking to one of the Americans, and we fast became best friends. After talking about Dan Savage, ГУМ, and our mutual love of judging people, I started mentioning adventures with my gay friends/the fact that I am pawning my eventual children off on them. He finally admits to me that he is gay, but not everybody knows. I wanted to throw out there, "honey, everybody knows," but held my tongue. Instant. Best. Friends. We talked about how shitting being gay is in Moscow, how I wrote to Dan Savage about possibly getting involved in the Gay Rights' Movement here, and going on ГУМ dates to eat pastries and be bitchy.
Club Story. Run by, of all people, a dude from Lakeland. The place was REALLY American. As about to random house music, and shitty English music (Vanilla Ice? Really) we listened to popular American music... rap and Ke$ha and the like. I initially started to dance with the nerdiness-looking American. Telling conversation:
Me: Are you American?
American dude: No
Me: ... Yes you are
AD: Ok, yes I am.
Me: Dude. I'm and American student. I'm not asking for the same reasons all of these women are.
AD: Oh ok.
*several minutes pass*
AD: I love you, but I have a girlfriend.
Me: ... huh?
And promptly give up to go dance with SGF.
So, we danced. For four hours. There were, as always, more chicks than guys, but I always had a partner. Two really adorable Americans were there (the bosses of my friends from the embassy), but they had their own thing going on.... one, blonde with glasses, one like an undrugged-out Robert Downey, Jr.
Also, it was obvious from the second we walked in the door many of the girls there were prostitutes. SGF and I remarked on this, making fun of one girl's fake Burberry leggings. It later got around to us that many of them weren't working that night, but were just working girls going out to "meet a nice guy." Knowing what I do about Russian culture, I can't really blame them for wanting to meet Americans.
So. Danced until 430. Didn't even realize it was that late. Yes, it was American music, and yes, the hookers danced better than me (not something I am used to in Europe)but it was still fun. The proprietor of the place bought me a few drinks (for being from SoFla) and we chatted a bit. He literally came to Moscow a few years ago because he was bored. He'd been living in Nicauragua or Peru or somewhere, and figured, "fuck it," and hopped a plane to Moscow. Although I imagine there was more paperwork than his stories let on.
So, at around 5ish, one of the American bous flipped out that we wanted to go home. Tara and I went with them back to their apartment to crash, as we didn't know how long the МГУ crowd would be out. We left, and it was snowing. Hard-core snowing. Poor Tara was in pumps. We walked for awhile before we flagged down a cab. It was a tight squeeze, but we'd be home shortly. Oh, no we wouldn't. Cab driver got pulled over and had to provide documents, and likely pay a bribe. The cab fare went up. We finally got home, and crashed.
Which means the next day, Rachel, a mildly Russian-looking girl in fur and yesterday's makeup, got to escort one of Russia's few black girls home, holding her hand the entire time to keep her from tripping on the ice in her 3" heeled red pumps. We got some looks.
P.S. Found the club! www.story-club.ru
I wasn't feeling up to going out, and I really wanted to take Nikita to dinner for his pains the night before. Alas, he was busy studying, so I begrudgingly joined the Americans going to a party.
Here's the story: one of the Americans had a friend from her university back home. He is currently an intern at the American embassy. He invited us all to his apartment for a little soiree.
So, it was essentially our little ragtag group of American students, a few very nice interns, and like 4 Russians that were friends with one of the guys. We hung out for a couple of hours, talking. I know for certain I am shooting for a job at the embassy. I also met a wonderful guy, a Jewish lawyer named Олег. We made plans to go to Kolomenskaya for Maslenitsa.
Also, how we learned he is Jewish... One of the girls at the party was Caucasion. Alec said she looked it, but I honestly couldn't tell... I guess a rounder face than most Russians, but red hair and whatnot. And Олег said that most Russian girls want to marry a Caucasian. I asked why. He said because they don't drink, they respect their parents, are more gentle (presumably Russian code for "less likely to beat you") and dark good looks. And I respond with, "like how everyone in America wants their daughters to marry Jews." And Олег responded with the usual amount of incredulity.
Side note: I attract three sorts of people in life.... gays, Jews, and the affluent. I have already discussed the random rich/powerful girls I met here. I shall discuss the gay friends shortly. But Jews in Russia happen to love me. I'm guessing it because Russians generally REALLY HATE JEWS. I know I've mentioned this before. So, the second I mention that my best friend back home is Jewish, or that I belong to a hillel, or even my name (common enough in America, but obviously a Jewish name and not a Russian one), or even that in America people are ok with Jews, they feel that they can be themselves around me. Its like a gay guy playing it straight... Acting a certain way around most people (like Russians...) and then opening up and being themselves when they meet people who aren't going to judge and/or beat them for being who they are. Nikita literally introduces his friends to me as, "This is ---. He is also a Jew." Random cultural observation.
So. Club time. We left the Russians, including my adorable lawyer, and made our way... Hell, I don't know where we went. I never know. I can never even pronounce the clubs we go to. I need to start collecting cards. All I know is we got on the metro, then more or less walked for a half and hour or so. In the snow. Word was there was a club with a bunch of U.S. Marines... even the DJ was a Marine. So, we used his name to get into this place.
On the way, I was talking to one of the Americans, and we fast became best friends. After talking about Dan Savage, ГУМ, and our mutual love of judging people, I started mentioning adventures with my gay friends/the fact that I am pawning my eventual children off on them. He finally admits to me that he is gay, but not everybody knows. I wanted to throw out there, "honey, everybody knows," but held my tongue. Instant. Best. Friends. We talked about how shitting being gay is in Moscow, how I wrote to Dan Savage about possibly getting involved in the Gay Rights' Movement here, and going on ГУМ dates to eat pastries and be bitchy.
Club Story. Run by, of all people, a dude from Lakeland. The place was REALLY American. As about to random house music, and shitty English music (Vanilla Ice? Really) we listened to popular American music... rap and Ke$ha and the like. I initially started to dance with the nerdiness-looking American. Telling conversation:
Me: Are you American?
American dude: No
Me: ... Yes you are
AD: Ok, yes I am.
Me: Dude. I'm and American student. I'm not asking for the same reasons all of these women are.
AD: Oh ok.
*several minutes pass*
AD: I love you, but I have a girlfriend.
Me: ... huh?
And promptly give up to go dance with SGF.
So, we danced. For four hours. There were, as always, more chicks than guys, but I always had a partner. Two really adorable Americans were there (the bosses of my friends from the embassy), but they had their own thing going on.... one, blonde with glasses, one like an undrugged-out Robert Downey, Jr.
Also, it was obvious from the second we walked in the door many of the girls there were prostitutes. SGF and I remarked on this, making fun of one girl's fake Burberry leggings. It later got around to us that many of them weren't working that night, but were just working girls going out to "meet a nice guy." Knowing what I do about Russian culture, I can't really blame them for wanting to meet Americans.
So. Danced until 430. Didn't even realize it was that late. Yes, it was American music, and yes, the hookers danced better than me (not something I am used to in Europe)but it was still fun. The proprietor of the place bought me a few drinks (for being from SoFla) and we chatted a bit. He literally came to Moscow a few years ago because he was bored. He'd been living in Nicauragua or Peru or somewhere, and figured, "fuck it," and hopped a plane to Moscow. Although I imagine there was more paperwork than his stories let on.
So, at around 5ish, one of the American bous flipped out that we wanted to go home. Tara and I went with them back to their apartment to crash, as we didn't know how long the МГУ crowd would be out. We left, and it was snowing. Hard-core snowing. Poor Tara was in pumps. We walked for awhile before we flagged down a cab. It was a tight squeeze, but we'd be home shortly. Oh, no we wouldn't. Cab driver got pulled over and had to provide documents, and likely pay a bribe. The cab fare went up. We finally got home, and crashed.
Which means the next day, Rachel, a mildly Russian-looking girl in fur and yesterday's makeup, got to escort one of Russia's few black girls home, holding her hand the entire time to keep her from tripping on the ice in her 3" heeled red pumps. We got some looks.
P.S. Found the club! www.story-club.ru
Friday, March 4, 2011
This... is... RUSSIA!
So… wow. I second my earlier opinion that Russia wants me dead. Last night started incredibly boring. Everyone else had an afternoon class, so I went home and took a nap. I guess everyone went out to dinner afterwards, and Nikita and Jan were sleeping, so I hadn’t heard from anyone. A Thursday night with nothing to do! So, I made myself some supper (I need to eat all of my food soon, as the weather is getting warmer, and all my frozen goods on my windowsill are thawing) and watched HIMYM and the Simpsons online. Finally, I got a very cryptic text from Nikita… my Russian really isn’t that good, and it is even worse when you throw typos in the mix. I thought he was saying he needed sleep, and he actually meant he was getting up. In my defense, нока, is not a real word. But, in the meantime, I had gotten invited to a party by cute Czech guy. So, I got dressed/pretty (I hadn’t put make-up on to go to class, so I was hag-like by Russian standards).
The party was… well. A room about the size of mine (small) with about 12 people. Czechs, Poles, Russians, Brits… probably a few others. They all played Never Have I Ever, but, considering how limited my Russian is, I decided to sit out. I had an translate the good ones for me, but I think out of embarrassment he didn’t explain the ones he drank on… I spoke very little. I know I need to practice, but I am still very embarrassed. Actually, the party eventually got checked on my the cops… But they had managed to hide the alcohol bottles (booze isn’t allowed in the dorms), and enough people were drinking tea and juice and eating blini that we claimed it was a Menslinitsa party. I don’t think they are all that dumb…
The other interesting thing was that one of the Russian girls, Katya… well, she was a trip. But she has started a mentoring program to set a Russian up with a foreign student to help lessen culture shock. But she and the British girl, Joanna, both studied Spanish, so I listened to Russpanol. This was incredibly amusing for me.
The party finally broke up as I was in the restroom. I was a little worried, as I came on Jan’s invite, and he had disappeared. I was invited to play Moscow Monopoly, but decided to find my friends instead.
Everyone was in the stairwell smoking… Essentially everyone here smokes (except Jan and myself) and it is messing with my lungs. We decided to go to the café in sector b. First, we crashed a German party…
This one room had 2 German girls, 2 cute Nordic-looking German boys, and what I can only assume was a German skinhead. He was large, had a big beard, was incredibly amused that I was American, exhausted his English by saying “I want to be a Republican sonofabitch” and started asking me if I had Slavic roots. Kolya and Nicholai had already left, and Jan was walking out the door… I was petrified they would leave me there, but Jan grabbed my hand and made sure I made it out.
We went and picked up 2 Czech girls and a Spanish girl, and made it to sector b. I just bought a Fanta, and the very nice Spanish girl, Marina, spilled Jan’s very hot tea on me. She studied English in school, but couldn’t speak it any more after a month in Russia. I studied Spanish in school, and couldn’t speak it anymore after a month here. But I understood her Spanish, and she understood my English. Enter Russpanolglish.
So, next we went to Jan’s room. On the way, I slipped on the ice. Quite badly. I have a giant bruise on my thigh, and I hit my head on the ice. My headache hasn’t abated in about 14 hours, so I’m a little worried I have a concussion. We lost a few of the boys and Marina, and had to run to Jan’s room as the creepy German guy was in the hallway. They talked in Czech, and then Jan would translate. Marina finally came back, along with the boys, plus Radik (Pole) and Gawad (French). I ended up talking American politics with Gawad for awhile.
Once again, I got up to go to the restroom, and came back and everyone left. And then I had one of my life’s most awkward exchanges ever. *Insert Mixed Messages Follies*
Essentially, an and I had been flirting for a few days, and I had actually grown to like him. After everyone left, he closed the door behind them, put his arms around me… and explained that he is “unfortunately already has relationship.” Which I was more or less ok with, but I didn’t understand why he had to snuggle me to tell me…
So, being really, really embarrassed, and pretty confused, I more or less covered my face, muttered, “its ok, hon… its ok. Thanks for everything.” And went home. And was really depressed.
I can’t honestly explain why I was so upset. I’ve been outright rejected before, and this was more of a “sorry, I have prior obligations,” sort of thing. Besides, after my less than elegant departure, I texted him apologizing, and saying I didn’t want to ruin our friendship by making a pass at him. And he was super-kind about this, saying I had nothing to be sorry about and he was flattered that I showed interest.
But I think I just had a minor existential crisis. I realized all the opportunities that I missed in the past because I had a boyfriend at the time, and didn’t want to do anything too exciting. And I wept bitter tears for everyone. I mean, Jan is going to graduate school here for several years, his girlfriend is still in C.R., and chances are, they will break up eventually. And we will have missed our chance together. And not even just me… this happens to everyone. How many people have missed their shots at a better happiness (I don’t think we only get one chance at happiness, but we could always be happier) because of poor timing? So… yeah. Depressed. I texted poor Nikita who, friend that he was, came to my rescue.
Which is how I ended up on the stairway at Moscow State University, crying to my new Russian friend as he chain smoked.
The party was… well. A room about the size of mine (small) with about 12 people. Czechs, Poles, Russians, Brits… probably a few others. They all played Never Have I Ever, but, considering how limited my Russian is, I decided to sit out. I had an translate the good ones for me, but I think out of embarrassment he didn’t explain the ones he drank on… I spoke very little. I know I need to practice, but I am still very embarrassed. Actually, the party eventually got checked on my the cops… But they had managed to hide the alcohol bottles (booze isn’t allowed in the dorms), and enough people were drinking tea and juice and eating blini that we claimed it was a Menslinitsa party. I don’t think they are all that dumb…
The other interesting thing was that one of the Russian girls, Katya… well, she was a trip. But she has started a mentoring program to set a Russian up with a foreign student to help lessen culture shock. But she and the British girl, Joanna, both studied Spanish, so I listened to Russpanol. This was incredibly amusing for me.
The party finally broke up as I was in the restroom. I was a little worried, as I came on Jan’s invite, and he had disappeared. I was invited to play Moscow Monopoly, but decided to find my friends instead.
Everyone was in the stairwell smoking… Essentially everyone here smokes (except Jan and myself) and it is messing with my lungs. We decided to go to the café in sector b. First, we crashed a German party…
This one room had 2 German girls, 2 cute Nordic-looking German boys, and what I can only assume was a German skinhead. He was large, had a big beard, was incredibly amused that I was American, exhausted his English by saying “I want to be a Republican sonofabitch” and started asking me if I had Slavic roots. Kolya and Nicholai had already left, and Jan was walking out the door… I was petrified they would leave me there, but Jan grabbed my hand and made sure I made it out.
We went and picked up 2 Czech girls and a Spanish girl, and made it to sector b. I just bought a Fanta, and the very nice Spanish girl, Marina, spilled Jan’s very hot tea on me. She studied English in school, but couldn’t speak it any more after a month in Russia. I studied Spanish in school, and couldn’t speak it anymore after a month here. But I understood her Spanish, and she understood my English. Enter Russpanolglish.
So, next we went to Jan’s room. On the way, I slipped on the ice. Quite badly. I have a giant bruise on my thigh, and I hit my head on the ice. My headache hasn’t abated in about 14 hours, so I’m a little worried I have a concussion. We lost a few of the boys and Marina, and had to run to Jan’s room as the creepy German guy was in the hallway. They talked in Czech, and then Jan would translate. Marina finally came back, along with the boys, plus Radik (Pole) and Gawad (French). I ended up talking American politics with Gawad for awhile.
Once again, I got up to go to the restroom, and came back and everyone left. And then I had one of my life’s most awkward exchanges ever. *Insert Mixed Messages Follies*
Essentially, an and I had been flirting for a few days, and I had actually grown to like him. After everyone left, he closed the door behind them, put his arms around me… and explained that he is “unfortunately already has relationship.” Which I was more or less ok with, but I didn’t understand why he had to snuggle me to tell me…
So, being really, really embarrassed, and pretty confused, I more or less covered my face, muttered, “its ok, hon… its ok. Thanks for everything.” And went home. And was really depressed.
I can’t honestly explain why I was so upset. I’ve been outright rejected before, and this was more of a “sorry, I have prior obligations,” sort of thing. Besides, after my less than elegant departure, I texted him apologizing, and saying I didn’t want to ruin our friendship by making a pass at him. And he was super-kind about this, saying I had nothing to be sorry about and he was flattered that I showed interest.
But I think I just had a minor existential crisis. I realized all the opportunities that I missed in the past because I had a boyfriend at the time, and didn’t want to do anything too exciting. And I wept bitter tears for everyone. I mean, Jan is going to graduate school here for several years, his girlfriend is still in C.R., and chances are, they will break up eventually. And we will have missed our chance together. And not even just me… this happens to everyone. How many people have missed their shots at a better happiness (I don’t think we only get one chance at happiness, but we could always be happier) because of poor timing? So… yeah. Depressed. I texted poor Nikita who, friend that he was, came to my rescue.
Which is how I ended up on the stairway at Moscow State University, crying to my new Russian friend as he chain smoked.
Russian Language
So… We have some really, really funny conversations in my Russian class. I don’t know if it is nearly as funny in English. But I have managed to single-handedly give Russians what Americans would see as a negative impression of American women. I think it is a better impression, and not nearly as bad and Russian women. I don’t know if this is nearly as funny after the fact, or translated.
“Happiness is a small cat, nice clothes, and a rich husband” – Rachel
Professor: “What do American girls talk about?”
Rachel: “Clothes and boys?”
Professor: “Anything else? Politics? Future jobs?”
Rachel: “Eh, sometimes cooking.”
Professor: “What to Italians dream of?”
Italian student: “A new president.”
Professor: “Russia feels the same way. Putin has been in for too long.”
Rachel: “Don’t worry. He’ll be a much better leader after we marry.”
Professor: “Ah, but he is too old for you! But I believe you. All he needs is a new young wife, huh?”
It is also interesting to note that the Russian women seemed most interested in having a family and a good job, and the Americans in acquiring stuff. Silly Russians… wanting children.
“Happiness is a small cat, nice clothes, and a rich husband” – Rachel
Professor: “What do American girls talk about?”
Rachel: “Clothes and boys?”
Professor: “Anything else? Politics? Future jobs?”
Rachel: “Eh, sometimes cooking.”
Professor: “What to Italians dream of?”
Italian student: “A new president.”
Professor: “Russia feels the same way. Putin has been in for too long.”
Rachel: “Don’t worry. He’ll be a much better leader after we marry.”
Professor: “Ah, but he is too old for you! But I believe you. All he needs is a new young wife, huh?”
It is also interesting to note that the Russian women seemed most interested in having a family and a good job, and the Americans in acquiring stuff. Silly Russians… wanting children.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
... Did... Did that just happen?
So. Rough night last night. Papa's place had nowhere to sit, so we drank at the bar. And... it ended poorly. That is all.
Today, we woke up and went to the churches/museums at the Kremlin. I was not aware that they didn't let you into the government buildings. In fact, I stepped into the street to get a better camera angle of a church, and a policeman yelled at me for stepping into the street... sheesh
The churches were quite pretty. They were all so decorated inside that there was no empty wall. The strangest part was probably that every church had a couple of disembodied Jesus heads... I probably wouldn't sin either, if confronted with that image every day...
From there we went to Red Square, to see if we could get into Lenin's mausoleum. No luck. We had a few hours to kill before we had to be back at the Kremlin for a theater performance, so we went into ГУМ. I was under the impression it had a pretty inexpensive food court, but all we found was a stolovaya, so we went to MacDonalds instead.
We were shocked to find that the entrance to the Kremlin was swarmed with people and security. Apparently, the program gave us tickets to some dance/music show that is really popular, and only happens once a year or so. Unfortunately, we were split up, and found out minutes into the 7pm show that it was a 4 hour performance. The music was pretty good (Russian chorus) and some of the dancing was amazing. The only really annoying thing was that the women would make these little bird-like shrieks periodically, which was pretty unnerving. We decided to leave during intermission, as we all have class at 9am. Oh, and it bears noting that the decor of the building, and the way the guests dressed... I momentarily thought we were transported back in time to the 1980's. Tie bars. Really?
So I get home, and run into Nikita smoking in the hallway. I end up being introduced to his friends, including two different Sashas who work security. I am made to stand in between them, hands to their chests, because, apparently, if a woman meets two men with the same name and stands between them, she gets to make a wish that will come true. A little awkward. What was more awkward was when one of the Sashas, who, while kind of cute, was a little sketchy, used Nikita to translate that we wanted to take me for tea of coffee tomorrow, without Nikita. We exchanged numbers, but as his English is worse than my Russian (gah!) I don't think that is going to go anywhere.
Nikita came back to my room for a few minutes for juice. I have repeatedly told him how messy my room is, but he brushes it off as not as bad as his. But this morning I had done laundry, and I had socks and such drying around me room. He noticed it, and literally laughed for 5 minutes. I was a little ashamed.
So, thats about it. Enjoyed the theater, and am a little confused about Sasha hitting on me. I'm always dumbfounded when Russians hit on me... I mean, WHY? They have SO MANY beautiful Russian women. Part of me wonders if they aren't actually hitting on me, and I am just taking things out of context. But I like to think that "Do you have Russian boyfriend? What about boyfriend in США?" and then Nikita making a comment about hot Russian sex and laughing his ass of while pointing to Sasha is more or less universal...
Today, we woke up and went to the churches/museums at the Kremlin. I was not aware that they didn't let you into the government buildings. In fact, I stepped into the street to get a better camera angle of a church, and a policeman yelled at me for stepping into the street... sheesh
The churches were quite pretty. They were all so decorated inside that there was no empty wall. The strangest part was probably that every church had a couple of disembodied Jesus heads... I probably wouldn't sin either, if confronted with that image every day...
From there we went to Red Square, to see if we could get into Lenin's mausoleum. No luck. We had a few hours to kill before we had to be back at the Kremlin for a theater performance, so we went into ГУМ. I was under the impression it had a pretty inexpensive food court, but all we found was a stolovaya, so we went to MacDonalds instead.
We were shocked to find that the entrance to the Kremlin was swarmed with people and security. Apparently, the program gave us tickets to some dance/music show that is really popular, and only happens once a year or so. Unfortunately, we were split up, and found out minutes into the 7pm show that it was a 4 hour performance. The music was pretty good (Russian chorus) and some of the dancing was amazing. The only really annoying thing was that the women would make these little bird-like shrieks periodically, which was pretty unnerving. We decided to leave during intermission, as we all have class at 9am. Oh, and it bears noting that the decor of the building, and the way the guests dressed... I momentarily thought we were transported back in time to the 1980's. Tie bars. Really?
So I get home, and run into Nikita smoking in the hallway. I end up being introduced to his friends, including two different Sashas who work security. I am made to stand in between them, hands to their chests, because, apparently, if a woman meets two men with the same name and stands between them, she gets to make a wish that will come true. A little awkward. What was more awkward was when one of the Sashas, who, while kind of cute, was a little sketchy, used Nikita to translate that we wanted to take me for tea of coffee tomorrow, without Nikita. We exchanged numbers, but as his English is worse than my Russian (gah!) I don't think that is going to go anywhere.
Nikita came back to my room for a few minutes for juice. I have repeatedly told him how messy my room is, but he brushes it off as not as bad as his. But this morning I had done laundry, and I had socks and such drying around me room. He noticed it, and literally laughed for 5 minutes. I was a little ashamed.
So, thats about it. Enjoyed the theater, and am a little confused about Sasha hitting on me. I'm always dumbfounded when Russians hit on me... I mean, WHY? They have SO MANY beautiful Russian women. Part of me wonders if they aren't actually hitting on me, and I am just taking things out of context. But I like to think that "Do you have Russian boyfriend? What about boyfriend in США?" and then Nikita making a comment about hot Russian sex and laughing his ass of while pointing to Sasha is more or less universal...
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