people

Caryn. Love her.

Andrew, Ruth (her husband Daniel is the only person

who I don't have a picture of), Ashleigh and Molly

My roommate Meredith. She keeps me sane.

Stephanie. The best voice and best laugh ever.

Danny. Love him.

Meredith, Caryn, Jenni, Leah and Randi

Leah and Danny, pulling one of his pranks

Dustin. He is the PNW's best kept secret.

Roma and Nikita, dancing at our welcome party.

Danny and Caryn

Stephanie!

Dustin, Joel and Stephanie

Me and Dannyboy

Leah, Adam, Andrew and Randi

Adam and I at Swan Lake.

Lica, our group leader. Love her to death.

Caryn and Randi

Joel, Ashleigh, Caryn, Leah, Randi and Stephanie

Mark. He's studying philosophy and theology.

Clayton and Jessica. They are engaged. And they are Okies.

places

The garbage at the end of our building.



The summer palace of the tzars.

An apartment building, part of the complex where the prostitue in...a famous Russian novel was supposed to have lived.

A signpost inside the St. Petersburg kremlin.

The Russian military in form before the Winter Palace.

Our Lady Kazan Cathedral in St. Petersburg.

The Bronze Horseman. It's The Great Pete, and Pushkin (Russia's Shakespeare) wrote an epic poem involving a young man cursing this statue. Good stuff.

St. Isaac's Cathedral, also in St. Pete.

Um... another cathedral.

It's a tradition in Russia for newlyweds to take pics at any significant place, so we see big white dresses EVERYWHERE, because we're in all those significant places, because we're tourists.

And this is the Church of the Spilt Blood. And it has a cool story which I will not tell you.

15.9.2007

We’ve spent a week now getting into the rhythm of the semester. Our group dynamics are becoming more obvious, people are finding groups within our larger group, and personalities are growing (or grating) on other ones. I’m sitting in my favorite spot, my window ledge. The double windows protect me from leaning against cold glass, and I can sit content looking out at the courtyard which has in the last week become a big puddle of mud with ditches in it. I think they’re digging around some of the pipes; but whatever is going on, all I know is that I have a view of green leaves and brown mud. If I didn’t have to wash them out by hand, I’d really want to go wrestle someone out in the mud. It looks about perfect for something like that.

We’re getting to know more Russian students. It’s funny because most of them are between 15 and 19, and we’re between 19 and…21 I think. The only reason that it’s funny is just that their faces look so much younger than ours; they’re definitely fun to hang out with. Today a Russian student mistook me for another Russian because I said ‘priviet’ so well. She figured it out pretty fast that I wasn’t actually Russian, but I’m elated that at least I’ve got one word down.

When we first got here I thought the food was delicious. Now…it’s the same food, so it’s probably just as delicious, but since we have pretty much the exact same thing for breakfast, lunch and dinner, I’m afraid that I’m already tired of it. They’ve started serving us coffee at some of our meals, which is AMAZING, especially first thing in the morning. I haven’t really been sleeping much- not because I’m studying or partying, but just because when I lay down, tired, I can’t sleep. And I’ve been up by 5 most days. The smell of coffee in the morning makes it worth lying awake through the night. Well, close enough.

We had our second language teacher on Wednesday, and she’s way more energetic than our first teacher. She doesn’t sit down, she walks around the classroom, laughing when we don’t understand each other and trying to speak German to the student in our class who speaks German. At least, I think that may be what they’re doing. Her name is Yelena.

The babushkas who work in the profilec are my favorite people ever. It’s like having 20 grandmas everywhere, and I’m beginning to recognize them. They are always saying things to me, and I don’t know what it means, so I respond in English, knowing that they have no idea what I’m saying either. But there’s a lot of smiling that goes on, so I know it means we’re friends. Just before I sat down to write this one of them passed me in the hall and said something and patted my arm as she walked by. It made me feel at home, which made me really happy.

Today we finally got to go to the gym that’s next to the campus and play. It was wonderful. To bad we only get to go there on Saturdays! I wish it could be something we do at least every other day…oh well. Running outside here is a different thing altogether from running in Seattle. If someone talks to me, I can’t really communicate with them. I can’t just run wherever and read streets signs to be able to find my way back, because I can’t read the street signs! I think I should really invest in a watch, because I’ve been carrying my alarm clock with me when I run, which is kind of silly.
Last night we had our first weekly ‘art photo’ thing. People submit a photo (I missed this memo and did two) and then everybody looks at them and votes for their favorite. Guess who won the first week? Me! Weird, right? It was a silly picture of a car…I’ll see if I can post it with this.

More misadventures to come!

10.9.2007

So I think life is going to begin settling down into something like a pace. We are here at our host university in Nizhni Novgorod. I haven’t seen much of the city yet, because the day set up for our walk-about was crazy raining. I definitely hadn’t been dressed for the weather or I would have been up for exploring even in the downpour- us Seattle-ites aren’t afraid of a little water.
We live in a profilectorium, which I’m not sure how to spell. It’s the hospital/dorm on campus, where Russian students come for up to 3 weeks to rest and recuperate. The thing is, with enough money paid to the right people, healthy students can stay here too, and we’ve been told that these students come here to party. The Russians move in tomorrow (but there are some already here, I have no idea how this really works), so we’ll get to see the weird mix of people who really are trying to sleep and people with sleep as the furthest thing from their minds. Weird, right?

The women’s bathroom was pretty much out of commission since we got here. Somehow the toilets (which, by the way, do NOT have toilet seats) were clogged and running-over…so…there was poopy, watery pee, basically, flooding our bathroom all weekend. We have another bathroom, kind of. See, we have to wash our clothes by hand, so we have a ‘traditional’ bathroom (the one with toilets) and a ‘sinkroom’, which, you guessed it, has sinks in it. Sinks for hands, sinks for clothes, sinks for…I’m not sure, but not for going to the bathroom in, if you know what I mean. Unfortunately, due to the lack of sufficient communication, the last category of sinks were used for a purpose they weren’t supposed to be used for, so we had not just one but TWO poopy overflowing bathrooms. Now I’m not a person to charge ahead and plow over other people to get what I want in everyday situations (I hope), but when it comes to going to the bathroom, I’m sorry, but the women’s situation was just not going to cut it. So I took myself to the men’s bathroom, I don’t even care what the Russian guys here thought. Yes, sometimes I was in the men’s at the same time as men…but as far as I know they never saw me. Eventually the ‘management’ told us to use the babushka’s bathroom downstairs- big deal- but now the ones upstairs are back in working, non-smelly, non-wet order.

We have Russian language class for three hours in the morning. Our big group of 20 was split in two, and my class has this cute professor that I really love already. She laughs at us when we try to pronounce words, and makes us make sounds over and over and over again until we get it right. I think her name is Irina, and she wants us to call her Ira. Little sidenote: the Russians have the best tradition of names. People have a first and last name, but also a patronymic, which is like a last name, kind of, except you use the fathers name and add either a masculine or feminine ending. But that’s not the part I like. They have little nick names, I don’t know where they come from, but they’re super cute and people use them when they’re feeling really affectionate. I know we have nick names in the U.S., but these are just amazing. I love them, and I wish I had one.

So part way through our language class we have a tea break in the International Office, and today there were Russian students in there who wanted to hang out and talk with us. I’m beginning to like tea. Our cafeteria babushkas serve us tea (the Russian word for tea is chai, by the way) with every meal.
We have lunch during an hour and a half break between language and lecture. Lecture is in the afternoon with our director, Harley, who had a birthday this last Sunday.

Our meals basically consist of meat and potatoes. When they told me that this was what we’d be having, I was like, ‘Okay, but what are we eating?’ They weren’t lying. We have some kind of unidentifiable meat- usually actually quite delicious- and potatoes in some form. Once we had what’s been called ‘square’- well, the Russian word for square, but I don’t know how to spell that- and it was basically mashed potatoes, in a cube, with a layer of meat in the middle. It was kind of like Thanksgiving lasagna. Or we have fried potatoes. And there’s always some kind of mayo-salad, which I have yet to eat. Also, we get chocolate cookies with breakfast. I love this part of Russia. The food is good. What has to happen after the food (the bathroom) is not as fun, at all, but we put on our Soviet faces and deal with it. It’s kind of like the ‘grin and bear it’ mentality, only in Russian you don’t grin. Oh, Russians think it’s okay to be sad. If you can tell that someone is feeling down, no one expects you to try to cheer them up, and they might even be offended if you tried.

31.8.2007

It’s been an interesting first two days in Russia. The most obvious thing you observe is how the Russian manner is different from that of Americans. I mean, I was warned about this, but it’s so weird! They don’t smile; they don’t show emotion in public. I didn’t think it was weird when the woman changing my money today looked at me crossly to tell me she wasn’t ready for my money, but was totally surprised when she smiled at me when she gave me my rubles. Totally not expecting that.

The other thing is that Russians seem to have a different attitude toward the handicapped or disabled. Today a blind woman with a cane was walking into a coffee shop, approaching a step down, and one of the baristas rushed over to help the babushka. And some other people lifted a woman in a wheel chair up a bunch of steps into the Hermitage/Winter Palace. It was incredible. Oh, and when my friends and I left the coffee shop, a woman came rushing out to return a camera to Jenni (she’d left it on the table). It seems like Russians really look out for each other, despite the coldness of their attitudes. I find myself trying really hard not to smile at people in the streets, because I think they might find it an invasion of their privacy, or something. I usually get glares back. But smiling is a hard habit to break.

I saw Rembrandt’s Prodigal Son today. The most striking thing about the painting was the appearance of the elder son. He really didn’t seem that reproachful to me. I thought he’d look more indignant than he did. My favorite piece that I saw was a sculpture called The Eternal Spring; a man and woman were kissing while they were both kneeling. I think I liked it because it looked like rapture. And it seemed ironic that it was called ‘eternal spring’ because feelings like that don’t last forever, you know? No matter how much you want them to.
I think I may have missed out on a lot of the art within the Hermitage today just because I was mesmerized by the palace itself. I kind of wish they would have preserved the place as a historical site, like as a palace, so we could see, maybe a little, how people lived in there. Because despite how beautiful and ornate it was, it really just felt like a museum. Perhaps that’s how it felt when people visited it in the days of the tsars. Who knows. I was beautiful, for sure. Oh, but I don’t have any pictures because my camera died right before we went inside.

We also visited the Church of the Spilt Blood, erected on the site where one of Russia’s emperors (Alexander the…2nd?) was killed. He’d been told as a boy that 7 assassination attempts would be made on his life. Someone threw a bomb under his carriage (this was now the 6th attempt on his life), killing the driver and seriously injuring the tsar, and as the tsar was talking to the terrorist after the event (he’d crawled out from the wreckage), someone else threw another bomb, and that’s how he died- on the seventh attempt. Crazy, huh? So the people built this church on the site to commemorate him, and it’s so beautiful. The entire inside- the walls and ceilings- are coverd with mosaics. There’s so much color, so many pictures, so much going on. It’s breathtaking and fascinating. Even the floor is beautiful. I don’t think they use it for services anymore. I have a couple pictures of the outside, but it’s the inside that surprises you and makes you wish the States had anything so beautiful. Maybe we do, but I haven’t seen it.

Unfortunately my converter (the thing I use to plug in my laptop to charge it) made a big ‘pop’ sound yesterday and then had smoke sneaking out of it…so I think it’s safe to say that it’s fried. Which means for now I don’t have a sure method of charging me laptop. Which is kind of disappointing, but definitely not the worst of things that could go wrong.

30.8.2007

So I got my first day in Russia off to an interesting start. A Russian man kissed me in the hallway on my way back to my room from breakfast. I didn’t want him to; he was old and fat and all over my face from out of nowhere. I’d seen him in the elevator earlier on the way to breakfast, and in the breakfast hall, but had assumed he was harmless. Clearly not. After he kissed me (YUCK!) he began motioning, and I think he wanted me to take him back to my room. I didn’t know what to do, whether to try to outrun him to my room or get in the elevator by myself, with the possibility of him following me. I managed to wait him out, though, and he went away a little while later. Now I’m hesitant to walk around the hotel by myself.

Other than that, though, I’m here, safe and sound. I have a bit of a cold, which is less than desirable, but I don’t think it will get in the way too much. I think I fell asleep this morning during our tour of the city…but I didn’t realize it until I woke up. Sankt Petersburg is such a Western city; if it weren’t for the Orthodox churches, I’d swear I was somewhere in Europe (not that I’d really now, since I haven’t been there- it does look a bit like London, but more colorful, and I have been there). The city was originally named after its founder, Peter the Great, but then was named Leningrad to honor Lenin after his death. It was named Petrograd (or something like that) during the first World War, and most recently was renamed St. Petersburg, not after Peter the Great but for one of its patron saints, Peter.

My converter just popped while it was plugged in, and smoke is snaking out of it. I think it’s safe to say it’s fried. Which is kind of a bummer since I was planning on using that this whole semester to keep my laptop charged. But oh well. I’m wiped. I’m going to take a nap.

One other thing. We’ve got some southern gentlemen on this trip. They open doors for the ladies (and call us that), and praise one another for their chivalry. And what my dilemma is is this: I feel like I actually need their help. I’m glad there’s someone waiting to make sure all the girls get on the subway. Because I kind of fear what might happen if I’m alone here. How does my feminism work in a world where I feel like I need men’s protection so much? Where I feel like I am the weaker sex?

Live From Times Square

New York takes out its trash on Saturday nights, too. I think all the trash that I’ve seen lined up on the streets is from one day. Which means that New York generates SO MUCH trash. And yesterday I was a part of it. By the end of the day it’s really a smelly city. I got breakfast at Starbuck’s yesterday (I needed a little reassurance, something familiar) and for whatever reason the inside of the store smelt like…someone had been sick in there that morning. Needless to say, I took my orange juice and mini-meal outside.
One thing I’ve noticed that I didn’t expect is all these little mini-water towers on the tops of most of New York’s buildings. They must be there for fire emergencies; I can’t see them emptying them and refilling them everyday- or maybe they do, and that’s how they get water to the uppermost floors. At any rate, the water towers are small in comparison to the buildings they perch on, and I like them.

After spending some time with Emily yesterday afternoon, I headed back to my hotel for some rest and relaxation. I hit Times Square alone later to find some truly ‘New York’ place to eat. But everything looked either really pricey or like fast food. I was in the mood to be waited on, but not to pay $100 for it. So when I finally came upon a Bubba Gumps, I knew the fight to find somewhere to eat was over, forget about finding something unique. I sat at the bar, because I was alone and it was the fastest way to get seated, and two girls from Wisconsin came in and sat next to me. We chatted and they decided to stay at the bar to eat rather than just get drinks. When one of the bartenders found out they were from Appleton, WC she got really excited because she had grown up there. A little while later the three of us (the WC girls and I) were treated to some delicious apple-shot thing. They knew what it was, but I didn’t, and I also didn’t feel the need to inform the bartender that I was only 20. And then she put our three meals on the same bill. So apparently she really thought I was from Appleton, too. Then we headed down to the Empire State Building, which was wonderful for getting the city into perspective, but I was wearing a skirt and the west side of the observation deck was windy. Suffice it to say that if anyone at any moment was not enjoying the view from the Empire State building, they certainly had a little show of their own going on on the building. Pretty sure I flashed everyone countless times. Oh well.

I’m going to meet up with my new friends this afternoon. What a fun unexpected perk!