So, I met with Marina at 340 to fix the paperwork situation. Well, to try to fix the paperwork situation. We hid outside room #1 as she negotiated our spravdas, but the woman in room #2 had already left by the time we finished in room #1. Which means I get to leave class early Monday to get this handled.
Marina also gave me the dormitory registration for Grisha and I. At first she told me to drop mine off, and give Grisha his to drop off. I asked if I could drop them off together, and she said yes. Big mistake. I stopped by my dejournaya's on my way home. She wasn't there, but a little old man was. He asked me some questions about the paperwork that I was completely unable to answer. I tried to call Marina, or to leave, but he wouldn't let me... he kept yelling and telling me to sit. He finally called the dejournaya. This kind old woman came in and looked at the papers for a few minutes... in her defense, she was blind as a bat. I feel horrible, but I had to stifle a giggle as she held these papers literally an inch from her eyes. I thought people only did that in movies, but no. She took my passes and let me leave without yelling at me further.
And so the visa renewal project becomes a 2-week issue. Yay.
Friday, April 1, 2011
Visa Renewal: a Horror Story
Warning: this story is not for the weak of heart.
I have been trying to renew my visa since last week. It expires in about 5 days, but I wanted to do it early so I would get my passport back and actually be allowed to leave the city. For those of you at Stetson, Hannah Chapman is going to be touring the Baltics April 16th-24th, and invited me to go with her. I hoped to have my visa back by then because, I mean... week of classes versus touring the Baltics for no particular reason? No-brainer.
To begin:
Friday- Start out optimistic. Go to the office of the dean of my faculty at 12, and watch for as he compiles paperwork and makes copies for me. He carefully explains what to do from here. Go across the street, and pay the fee of 1000p at the bank. Take the receipt. Next, I need to go to the 8th floor. I get on the elevator, and press the button for the 8th floor. It lights up for a second, then darkens. Other people on the elevator look at me like I'm an idiot, and press 11 for me. I get off on the 11th floor, get on another elevator to go down. I press 8. It doesn't light up... I end up on the 1st floor. Giving up, I take another elevator to the 11th floor, and take the steps down. The office I need to go to first was only open from 12 to 2. It is now 210. I am told to return on Monday by the woman who is still very obviously IN HER OFFICE.
Monday-Have class.
Tuesday- Thought the office opened at 12. It opened at 2. I had other stuff to do. (2-4, btws)
Wednesday-Closed
Thursday- Make it to the room, they take one paper. I progress to room #2. There a woman proceeds to yell at me in Russian about all the things wrong with my paperwork. All I understand is go back to my faculty. I go back to the faculty and meet with the dean, who checks my paperwork, and fixes whatever lady #2 circles. I tell him I have class, what are her office hours? He says he doesn;t know, but this is more important, so fix this instead. I hurry back to the main building (once again, take elevator to the 11th floor, stairs down to the 8th). Her office hours were 1030-12. It is now 1207. I make myself a grilled cheese sandwich in resignation.
Friday-Wake up early to be there when Lady#2 arrives. Three other Americans are already there. She is 1/2 hour late. We take turns being yelled at... one of the other students, and myself, are missing the little gray paper they had taken from me in room #1 yesterday (he never received his.) I try to explain that they took it, but am told to go back to the faculty. I try to get it back from room#1, but they just ask why I don't have the paper. When I explain I gave it to them yesterday, the tell me to go to room #2. I go back to the Dean in the faculty (btws... 30 minute walk, each way). He reprints the paper, and writes down directions, in Russian, for them to give me the paper they forgot to give me yesterday. And so I get to start the process over again. I am meeting with Marina at 340, and hopefully she can fix this. Otherwise... well, I dunno. I guess I get deported? But it'd be nice if I made it to class one of these days.
Also, I would like to reiterate the fact that I was yelled at by a woman who was 1/2 hour late to her 1 1/2 hour job. She kept yelling something at me when I walked in, and it took me about 30 seconds to understand that she was saying, "get the fuck out of my office, please. get the fuck out of my office, please. get the fuck out of my office, please. get the fuck out of my office, please. get the fuck out of my office, please. "
I have been trying to renew my visa since last week. It expires in about 5 days, but I wanted to do it early so I would get my passport back and actually be allowed to leave the city. For those of you at Stetson, Hannah Chapman is going to be touring the Baltics April 16th-24th, and invited me to go with her. I hoped to have my visa back by then because, I mean... week of classes versus touring the Baltics for no particular reason? No-brainer.
To begin:
Friday- Start out optimistic. Go to the office of the dean of my faculty at 12, and watch for as he compiles paperwork and makes copies for me. He carefully explains what to do from here. Go across the street, and pay the fee of 1000p at the bank. Take the receipt. Next, I need to go to the 8th floor. I get on the elevator, and press the button for the 8th floor. It lights up for a second, then darkens. Other people on the elevator look at me like I'm an idiot, and press 11 for me. I get off on the 11th floor, get on another elevator to go down. I press 8. It doesn't light up... I end up on the 1st floor. Giving up, I take another elevator to the 11th floor, and take the steps down. The office I need to go to first was only open from 12 to 2. It is now 210. I am told to return on Monday by the woman who is still very obviously IN HER OFFICE.
Monday-Have class.
Tuesday- Thought the office opened at 12. It opened at 2. I had other stuff to do. (2-4, btws)
Wednesday-Closed
Thursday- Make it to the room, they take one paper. I progress to room #2. There a woman proceeds to yell at me in Russian about all the things wrong with my paperwork. All I understand is go back to my faculty. I go back to the faculty and meet with the dean, who checks my paperwork, and fixes whatever lady #2 circles. I tell him I have class, what are her office hours? He says he doesn;t know, but this is more important, so fix this instead. I hurry back to the main building (once again, take elevator to the 11th floor, stairs down to the 8th). Her office hours were 1030-12. It is now 1207. I make myself a grilled cheese sandwich in resignation.
Friday-Wake up early to be there when Lady#2 arrives. Three other Americans are already there. She is 1/2 hour late. We take turns being yelled at... one of the other students, and myself, are missing the little gray paper they had taken from me in room #1 yesterday (he never received his.) I try to explain that they took it, but am told to go back to the faculty. I try to get it back from room#1, but they just ask why I don't have the paper. When I explain I gave it to them yesterday, the tell me to go to room #2. I go back to the Dean in the faculty (btws... 30 minute walk, each way). He reprints the paper, and writes down directions, in Russian, for them to give me the paper they forgot to give me yesterday. And so I get to start the process over again. I am meeting with Marina at 340, and hopefully she can fix this. Otherwise... well, I dunno. I guess I get deported? But it'd be nice if I made it to class one of these days.
Also, I would like to reiterate the fact that I was yelled at by a woman who was 1/2 hour late to her 1 1/2 hour job. She kept yelling something at me when I walked in, and it took me about 30 seconds to understand that she was saying, "get the fuck out of my office, please. get the fuck out of my office, please. get the fuck out of my office, please. get the fuck out of my office, please. get the fuck out of my office, please. "
More Traditional Russian Dancing. With Horses.
Tuesday was one of my days off. A mess of us wanted to go to the Fridays on Novie Arbat for lunch, as it was Dan's birthday. Alas, almost everyone had decided to celebrate Dan's birthday the night before, so my friend Whitney and I were the only ones to make it. I was actually pretty impressed with myself... I managed to navigate the metro, including switching lines, all by myself!
Fridays was amazing. Pricey, like all restaurants in Moscow are, especially American ones, but worth it. They had a pretty awesome business lunch:
Soup+Salad for 195p
Soup or Salad+main dish=275p
Soup+Salad+Main Course=345p
These came with a soda, and had refills for only 30p (I haven't seen refills anywhere else)
I was mostly excited because I got to eat an amazing salad with vinaigrette dressing (not Caesar!) I also ordered some sort of fettuccine with little porky bits. Quite tasty. And, the ever-important Coca-Cola "saldom, pozhalysta!"
Afterwards, Whitney and I walked back to the metro one Ctari Arbat. This is always interesting. She had wanted to find a used bookstore, but, as I haven't seen any, I steered her towards an outdoor book stall. She found a few very pretty childrens' poetry books with embellishment on the cover.
Walking back, we were chatting about things, and a woman in a fur coat started speaking to us in English. She is a Canadian expat who works for the British embassy. We chatted until we parted ways at the metro.
We returned back to the university with an hour to spare to leave for the theatre. We had tickets to another Russian dance show. After asking directions to the place, we managed to find it, but couldn't cross the street at the theatre... we had to run under a bridge/overpass. Which would have been fine, if I hadn;t managed to nearly be run over my a chauffeured Mercedes with diplomat tags and a Czech flag. Yep... almost caused an international incident by being hit by a Czech diplomat.
The dance show was pretty neat. Much less squeaking from the women tis time, which was nice.
The boys left halfway through to find food and party. Us girls stayed the whole time, then opted not to meet them. We stopped at a pizza place instead.
Interesting note: as we crossed in an underpass with the rest of the theatre-goers, we heard a really obnoxious voice repeating something in Russian. As we got further into the underpass, we realized there was a girl in there asking for money. With a horse. Yep, horse in the underpass in the center of Moscow.
Which is not the only horse-related story of the night. Apparently, in Kitai Gorod, there was a girl asking for 1000p to let people ride HER horse. The boys talked her down to 500p, and they put Dan on it. And he rode a horse to Coyote Ugly for his birthday.
Fridays was amazing. Pricey, like all restaurants in Moscow are, especially American ones, but worth it. They had a pretty awesome business lunch:
Soup+Salad for 195p
Soup or Salad+main dish=275p
Soup+Salad+Main Course=345p
These came with a soda, and had refills for only 30p (I haven't seen refills anywhere else)
I was mostly excited because I got to eat an amazing salad with vinaigrette dressing (not Caesar!) I also ordered some sort of fettuccine with little porky bits. Quite tasty. And, the ever-important Coca-Cola "saldom, pozhalysta!"
Afterwards, Whitney and I walked back to the metro one Ctari Arbat. This is always interesting. She had wanted to find a used bookstore, but, as I haven't seen any, I steered her towards an outdoor book stall. She found a few very pretty childrens' poetry books with embellishment on the cover.
Walking back, we were chatting about things, and a woman in a fur coat started speaking to us in English. She is a Canadian expat who works for the British embassy. We chatted until we parted ways at the metro.
We returned back to the university with an hour to spare to leave for the theatre. We had tickets to another Russian dance show. After asking directions to the place, we managed to find it, but couldn't cross the street at the theatre... we had to run under a bridge/overpass. Which would have been fine, if I hadn;t managed to nearly be run over my a chauffeured Mercedes with diplomat tags and a Czech flag. Yep... almost caused an international incident by being hit by a Czech diplomat.
The dance show was pretty neat. Much less squeaking from the women tis time, which was nice.
The boys left halfway through to find food and party. Us girls stayed the whole time, then opted not to meet them. We stopped at a pizza place instead.
Interesting note: as we crossed in an underpass with the rest of the theatre-goers, we heard a really obnoxious voice repeating something in Russian. As we got further into the underpass, we realized there was a girl in there asking for money. With a horse. Yep, horse in the underpass in the center of Moscow.
Which is not the only horse-related story of the night. Apparently, in Kitai Gorod, there was a girl asking for 1000p to let people ride HER horse. The boys talked her down to 500p, and they put Dan on it. And he rode a horse to Coyote Ugly for his birthday.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Moscow is an Amazing City, the World Hates Me, and How this Somehow Led to Me Licking Electrical Appliances
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.
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.
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.
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