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!
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
... 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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