Vacation time

(Written on 1.4.10)

Returning to your comfort zone after a long period of time spent in a foreign, far-away, strange, and often uncomfortable and upsetting place is an incredible feeling. After four months in rural southern Russia, I am now sitting in a coffee shop around the corner from the Harvard University campus, a large, hot, caffeinated beverage next to me, an article from one of my favorite professors swiped off of JStor in front of me (don’t waste your breath calling me a dork—I already know), students and smiling faces all around. I’ll put in a favorable vote for adventures and new experiences, but to finally feel like I belong somewhere again after so long is… indescribably wonderful.

To be honest, I had that wonderful feeling of belonging as soon as we traded the open, desolate plains of the Kuban for the snow-covered birch forests on the train from Krasnodar to St. Petersburg. But I’ll start the account of my trip a few days earlier to give a more complete image of the transition from one world to another (to another) that I passed through in the last week and a half.

December 23rd was my last full day in Slavyansk until mid-January. It also happened to be the day that the InYaz (Foreign Languages) students were putting on their yearly New Year’s performance. It was, for the most part, a cute, albeit strange, show. The main plot was as followed: an evil queen has captured Ded Moroz (Grandfather Frost—the Russian version of Santa Claus) and his granddaughter, Snegoruchka (Snow girl), has to travel all around the world to find him. One of my third year students, Lena, played Snegoruchka and did a very nice job putting everything together. About half way through the main show, there was an interlude where the fifth years did a few comedy skits—mostly about the Institute, and mostly pretty funny. However, the last act they put on took me completely by surprise. All of a sudden, rap music came on, and three students came out in blackface (yes… blackface—the saddest part is, this was the third time I’ve seen blackface since coming to Russia) and stereotypical “gantsa rapper” clothes (fur coats, bling) and rapped: “Yo, ya Barack Obama” (Yo, I’m Barack Obama)… my jaw just dropped. Now, I’m not the most actively patriotic person you’ll meet, but to see my president, a president I voted for and wholeheartedly support, portrayed like that… I was a little horrified. But the rest of the room went wild—that act got more cheers and applause than anything else all night! I understand that blackface does not have the same cultural connotations in Russia as in the United States, but still… there are some cultural boundaries that I don’t know if I will ever be able (or willing) to cross.

I skipped the “discotheque” that was to follow and went back to the dorm to finish packing after that… only to find out that chunks of my wall had been ripped out, dust was all over the clean clothes I had put out to pack, and there was no electricity. I go downstairs to inquire about this, and am told that nothing can (or will) be done until the morning. Meanwhile, I have to figure out how to cook dinner, pack, clean, and shower in the dark. The women who work in the dorm did not understand why I was getting a little frustrated. This was really the straw that broke the Slavyansk camel’s back for me, and I started to well up in the hallway. At that moment, Masha came out and saw me. She quickly guided me into her room, where she gave me some dinner and chatted for a few hours. I was lucky she was there. The girls in that room are really a big light in the darkness (literally and figuratively) for me.

We decided to string a long extension cord from another room to give me light to pack, and I did manage to get ready. I got up early the next morning to finish and was mid-way through my shower when someone started to pound on my door. I managed to hop out and throw on some clothes just before two electricians opened it with a key from the babushkas. Luckily, they realized that I was trying to get ready to leave, and said they would come back in the afternoon, after I had gone. Who knows why they were even there in the first place.

I left around 11:30am that morning to head to the bus station to get to Krasnodar. That was the first two-hour leg of the trip. From there, I transferred to the train station, where I waited for my 6pm departure time. Around 5pm, my train pulled in, and I go to find my bunk.

Sleeper cabins are arranged as followed: each bunk has four beds, two upper, two lower. I was bunk number 34, in the last carriage. I find it, and get to cabin number 8: bunks 29-32. I move on to cabin number 9: bunks 35-39… wait. Where was bunk 34? Of course this happened to the only foreigner on the train, of course. “That’s our Russian counting for you!” laughed the man in bunk number 39. Thanks, how helpful. We assumed a numbering error, and I ended up on a top bunk in cabin 9, where I spent the rest of Christmas Eve and all of Christmas day.

My bunkmates ended up being really nice (a young woman, a middle-aged man, and an old woman who fed us all kasha, fish, and wine), so the 39-hour long ride wasn’t too bad. After a few hours, we had passed out of the Kuban and found ourselves surrounded by those snow-covered birch forests I had so often heard and dreamed of. Here, finally, was the Russia I wanted, the Russia I had always imagined, the Russia I had for so long loved from a distance. I immediately felt at home. Why hadn’t I been here to begin with? It felt so right, worlds above everything I had seen in the past four months (save the trip to Moscow).

But Russia is still and everywhere Russia, with its own special set of frustrating quirks to deal with. I woke up around 6am on the morning of the 26th and realize that our train was standing still… and still was two hours later. No one knows why, no one asks. We’re supposed to be in St. Petersburg at 9:45am. We start moving, but at a slower pace, and keep stopping ever more frequently. At 9:40, we find out that we’re still an hour outside of St. Petersburg. My Krasnodar Krai sim card does not work this far north, so I can’t call Matt, who was meeting me at the train station. At 10:30, we find out that we’ll be pulling into a different train station than we were originally scheduled to do. Again, no way for me to contact Matt. Still, no one on the train is asking questions. We pull in to the snowy station, I grab my giant bag and begin to lug it down the platform. I make it to the end and all of a sudden see Matt step out onto the platform. The first familiar, friendly face I’ve seen since October! I don’t think I’ve felt that relieved in… well, since the Fulbright seminar in October.

Matt lugged my heavy and wobbly suitcase through the snow back to his apartment, where I took a much-need shower before we headed out to get some Georgian food, the first meal with flavor that I’ve had since arriving in Russia. It was glorious. After that, we went to visit a friend of his, took a walk along the Neva (the Neva! Dostoevsky’s Neva, Pushkin’s Neva…!), before meeting up with his girlfriend in an American-style bar to have a much-needed drink and to listen to some post-folk (yeah, who knows…) music. It was a nice evening. We got back a little late, and I was dead tired after my trip, but it took me forever to fall asleep—Tyler was arriving the next day, and I was way too jazzed to keep my eyes closed for more than 10 seconds at a time.

But again: this is Russia, and those irritating quirks just keep popping up. Tyler’s plane from Helsinki was set to arrive at 11:50am. Matt and I arrive at the airport around 11:30. 12:00 comes, passes. Our flight is in. About 10 people come through the gates… no Tyler. But there are about 10 other groups still waiting for their passengers, too, so we don’t get too nervous. 12:30 comes—still no more passengers. I start to get a little nervous, and we try to think of what could happen. Maybe they’re holding the passengers that had transferred from New York—they do that sometimes. 1pm comes. I’m getting more worried. Tyler doesn’t speak Russian, and since the number he knows for me doesn’t work there, he couldn’t call me. Still no information—again, no one will ask questions, though it’s debatable whether or not anyone would have answered, anyway.

At 1:30, one of the men who had been waiting for two hours with flowers for his passenger gets up, and he goes up to the information desk. After a few minutes of heated conversation, he comes back, frustrated and information-less. But we do have one last option, the best weapon the Russian public has to offer: the mighty power of the babushka. We had one in our group, and she decided to take things into her hands. No one, not even the laziest of help desk personnel, the fiercest of militsia, can deny the force of the babushka. She got our information. As it turns out, the flight from New York had been delayed, and the flight from Helsinki left without them. The next flight from Helsinki was due to arrive at 4:50, but they wouldn’t tell us whether or not our passengers would be on it. Oh, Russia. By this point, it was 2:30. Matt and I just decided to wait.

4:50 comes. The plane has landed. We wait. 6pm comes—other passengers from NYC finally pass through the customs control gate. Everyone else who was standing with us earlier in the day finds their people. And then finally, at last… Tyler! Tired, but no worse for wear, he finally made it! We all sigh a huge sigh of relief and go back to Matt’s place to drop Tyler’s bag off before heading off to the best-tasting dinner I’ve had in a long, long time… Pizza Hut. Nothing like the taste of nostalgia to brighten up your night!

The next day was a day of forms, questions, and red tape. Oh, Russia and your registration rules that no one really understands...

The day after that was our day of culture: the Hermitage in the afternoon and The Nutcracker in the evening.

The day after that was, I think, the day that Tyler and I went to see the Church on Spilled Blood—in my opinion, much more beautiful than even St. Basil’s. That evening, we met up with Fulbright Masha and some of her friends, saw Ded Moroz completely close off Nevsky Prospekt and light the New Year’s tree in front of the Hermitage, and walked to the Bronze Horseman (and yes, I did quote a bit from The Bronze Horseman in honor of First Year Russian through Pushkin). A light snow was falling all the while—it was gorgeous. A beautiful night.

The next day was New Year’s Eve. We did some holiday shopping in the afternoon and prepared our very American feast in the evening—roast chicken, roasted potatoes, garlic bread, and a delicious caramel apple pie. Closer to the New Year, however, the evening took a more Russian turn. We ate, listened to music, watched Medvedev’s speech and saw the clocks chime 12 in Moscow. Then, we all wrote a wish for the new year on a little slip of paper, burned it, and drank the ashes… yes, I did eat my wish. After that, we decided to take advantage of the fact that we were in St. Petersburg at midnight on New Year’s—so we took a walk to the Neva (watching out for stray bottle rockets from the roofs of buildings all the way). It was damn cold, but worth it. Matt and I really wanted to walk on the Neva, but the spot where we ended up was close to a bridge, under which the ice had partially melted, so we decided against it. Still, I’m glad we made that walk.

We slept in quite late the next morning, and Tyler and I decided to go see the Peter and Paul fortress in the afternoon. I’m not going to get into the details of the adventure we went through to get there, but let’s just say that it was a mildly frustrating and extremely cold experience—though we did finally make it. Since it was so cold, and since not everything was open because of the holiday, we only saw the jail and the cathedral. I have to say, I was really hoping to see where people like Dostoevsky and Chernyshevsky were held, but all that we were able to see were the cells of late-nineteenth century and early twentieth-century political prisoners (narodniki, revolutionaries, etc.). Still, it was really neat. It was also really cool to see the tombs of the Romanovs. I’m glad we made the trek. I’m also glad, however, that we stayed in that night—it was -30 degrees Celsius by 8pm. We did make a fabulous discovery, though—St. Petersburg has pizza delivery! Yum.

The following day was our last day in St. Petersburg, and we did… absolutely nothing. But hey, I’m not complaining—I’ll be back, and the point of this trip was to relax, not to see every sight.

The flight back from Helsinki was its own kind of special—after messing up our tickets, we had to stand in what was possibly the longest line ever known to mankind so that we could get our daily groping before boarding the plane. I have to say, I understand the terror threats, but I’m just not ready to have a random Finnish lady examine the lining of my underwear. But at last, at long last, we got our seats (together) and made it through the 9-hour flight to New York and the five-hour bus ride to Boston, lugged our luggage to Cambridge (Tyler was the champ he always is and handled my monster bag for me), and finally collapsed in Tyler’s (super lux) dorm room. The evening was spent in high style, snacking on vending machine Doritos and watching The History Channel. I hadn’t felt that good, that calm, that relaxed, since we were back in Chicago (doing much the same thing). It was, in a word, perfect.

(continued on 1.17.10)

The rest of that week was, not to overuse the word, perfect (with the one exception that Tyler had class in the mornings). I indulged in tasty treats, explored Cambridge (a very cool neighborhood that I’m very much looking forward to living in), met Tyler’s friends, went ice skating outside, went candlepin bowling (with a very cool group of Tyler’s friends), and just hung out and enjoyed where I was and who I was with for the first time in a long time.

I had to be back home by the following Sunday, so I decided to head out Friday night and spend Saturday in New York with Beth, Becca, and Christine. The best part? Tyler even came with me! It was great. We stayed with Beth and finally got a chance to catch up with her on Friday night, then met up with Becca and Christine on Saturday to see the Tim Burton exhibit at the MOMA. We spent the rest of the afternoon and evening listening to music, catching up, making dinner, and eating delicious delivery cookies. Life doesn’t get much better than that, does it?

Tyler and I boarded the bus to Philadelphia for the last leg of our winter ‘09/’10 travels that night. We got into town around midnight and I’m still convinced nearly froze to death in the whole two minutes it took my dad to find us on the street (inspiring some flashbacks to a very uncomfortable bridge walk in St. Petersburg). And soon we were home.

The annual holiday party was the next day (everyone had kindly agreed to delay it so that I could be there). It was fun, and nice to see everyone at once. We played the exchange game with joke gifts again, and I think I came out on top with the giant rubber duck—big thanks to everyone who helped me get it back, heh. The only sad part of the day was that Tyler had to leave that afternoon to make it back to Cambridge, since he had classes in the morning. I really wish that I was on that bus with him.

The rest of the week at home flew by. Between meeting up with people, various appointments, and running errands, I hardly had time to rest and relax. Before I knew it, it was Friday night, and I had to pack and be ready to leave by 7:30 the next morning.

After many (…many) hours in transit, I am now sitting in the airport in Moscow waiting for my flight to Krasnodar, and all I want to do is turn around and go back.

I am going to try to keep my spirits up. In a week, I’ll be back in Moscow for the mid-year seminar. I’ll get to enjoy more of the city, I’ll get to see all of my fellow ETAs, and I’ll have a chance to discuss the problems in Slavyansk and possible solutions. Maybe we can make things better, somehow. If not, we’ll go from there. I want to see this through—I feel like I have to—I just have to figure out how I can do that in a more… pleasant environment.

Update

(edited.)

Russia is weird.

Last Tuesday, Slavyansk-na-Kubani State Pedagogical Institute celebrated the fifteenth anniversary of its founding. Classes were cancelled, and instead everybody gathered as the House of Culture for—you guessed it!—a very Russian celebration.

I met Lena around 10:30 to walk through the snow (our first—and so far, our only—day of snow) to the Дом Културы (House of Culture). The entranceway was a madhouse, with people milling around and being directed here and there. We found our dean, who told us where to sit, dropped off our coats (it’s almost incomprehensible to Russians to carry your coat around with you), and found our seats. The celebration turned out to be a three-hour long awards ceremony, broken up here and there with performances by student singing and dancing teams (modern and traditional). I think that every single faculty member received an award (that is, I don’t think so—Anatoliy Andreevich confirmed that suspicion later in the day). At the end, they had a special treat for the праздник attendees—a boy band brought in from St. Petersburg—a big deal! They sang Russian pop songs for about half an hour, and then started an “English disco” set, which they kicked off with a song that, as far as I could tell, featured the lyrics “Come back into the USSR!” and lead into the “gimme gimme your heart song” (complete with corresponding dance moves), followed by “I’m your Venus, I’m your fire, your desire!” and various other hilarious songs that I really don’t think they knew the lyrics to. I couldn’t contain myself and burst out laughing at one point and got some strange looks from my colleagues, but I dare any of you to keep a straight face through that. I have some video (where you can also see some students and teachers getting down with their bad selves in front of the stage) which I will have to find a way to get to all of you.

I had to leave before the concert was over (alas, alas!) to attend a lunch for some of the “more important” people and guests at the institute (I got my invitation for being the American guest). At this dinner, I saw for the first time how several Russian stereotypes that I had, in an attempt at cultural sympathy, tried to tell myself were only stereotypes… but no. The first thing I noticed when I got there was the table setup: this was the first formal lunch I had been to where shot glasses were placed next to the wine glasses. These glasses all got plenty of use throughout the evening, as just about everyone there (about 50 people, I’d say) made a toast. In between toasts, we ate various kinds of fish and jellied meats (yummy…) and listened to the pop groups that had been brought in to sing for our entertainment. About an hour (and six toasts) in, we were invited to all get up and dance. Now, teachers and professors are not known for being the coolest kids on the block, I’ll say it just now. Hell, this is my chosen profession, and if there’s one thing about myself I’m sure of, it’s the fact that I’m an awkward, dorky white kid. The people here were me in thirty years, plus many, many drinks. Imagine the hilarity that ensued!

I was having a perfectly amusing time just watching this, but I was spotted by one of my lovelier colleagues at the main campus (I helped a woman with a translation the other week, and became fast friends with her and her assistant over tea and sweets when we were finished) and pulled onto the dance floor where, would you believe it, I shook my hips and waved my hands and gave everyone there a good chuckle at the expense of the awkward American kid. But hey, it was a cultural experience, right? I got hugs for my efforts afterwards—people were glad that I took part, and I have to say, I was, too.

I left the lunch about three and a half hours in, as A.A. and a friend of his offered me a ride, a much better option, in my opinion, to walking through the freezing rain. I got back to my dorm, made a big cup of tea, collapsed into an armchair, and spent the rest of the night giggling about my day (and watching a poorly dubbed Indiana Jones on tv…). Oh, Russia. What a strange place (as my next entry will, I think, bring home…)!

This week in Russia: Banyas and Ballets

It seems that the time has come for me to make the requisite баня (“banya”) entry. For those of you who didn’t take the first quarter of Valentina’s Third-Year Russian class, I want to devote a few lines to the banya itself. The banya is, fundamentally, a bathhouse or a sauna. While many cultures have their own versions of the bathhouse, in Russia, the banya is much more than a place to bathe or to relax. A whole mythology has evolved around the banya, and it has consequently become an integral part of Russian life and culture. The space of the banya is multilayered: it is a social space, a spiritual space, a philosophical space. You go there with your friends to relax, eat, and drink (beer or tea, whichever is your pleasure). Traditionally, you can go there to engage in divination—to try to see your future. You want to be sure to avoid the little spirit, or bannik, who lives there (when you bathe, he takes all of your dirt, so to speak, onto his back, so he’s not a very happy little man; he is, however, sometimes willing to help you out with your divinations). You go to meditate, to think about life. You go there for your health. In short, you go there a lot—many Russians have banyas in their own homes (though we went to a public banya).

The actual process of bathing at the banya is also rooted in tradition. You sit in the steam, then jump either into the snow (in an ideal situation) or a very cold pool (as we did), then eat and drink tea (or beer). Then you go back into the steam, jump in the snow/pool, and eat/drink again. Then you sit in the steam, beat each other with birch branches, jump into the snow/pool one last time, and head home.

So that, in short, is what we did.

Last Saturday, Katya sent me a text asking me if I wanted to go to the banya with her and the younger colleagues in our department. I was a little hesitant, as anyone who knows me can probably imagine (I should mention: the banya experience is usually a naked experience), but, loathe to miss out on such a key cultural experience, I agreed. To my great relief, when I asked Katya what I should bring, “bathing suit” was the first thing on the list.

Walking past the run-down houses and fields where babushkas could be seen herding their cows on the way to the banya, I truly felt as if I were entering another, much older, world. The banya we went to was located in a part of Slavyansk I hadn’t been to before. While the center of town is by no means a wealthy area, the decrepitude of the streets and buildings in this neighborhood was a little shocking. It really looked and felt like old peasant Russia—and only a half hour walk from my dorm. I began to understand Chekhov a little better. But I’ll devote more time to this theme later…

Anyway. We arrived at the banya, changed into our bathing suits, and headed in for our first steam. Vika, our banya expert, poured some scent (pomegranate, I think) over the stones, giving the steamy air in the small room a pleasant aroma. As a first-time banya attendee, I was invited to make a wish (another divining tradition). When the heat became too much to stand, we jumped into the pool, and then went into the adjoining room for a snack of tea, fruit, and cheese. After resting for a little while, we went back in for our second steam. This time, we rubbed ourselves with a natural scrub apparently made of honey and salt. It sounds icky, but I have to say, my skin felt really soft afterwards. Again the water and tea, and then back for our third steam. This was the birch branch steam. Since it was my first time, I was volunteered to go first. I have to admit, when I was learning about the banya, this is the practice that sketched me out the most. Who gets enjoyment out of being beaten by a switch? But I dutifully lay down on the bench and awaited my fate. As it turns out, it wasn’t half-bad. I still can’t say that I see the appeal, but I’m not wholly against it.

The whole experience took about two hours, after which we headed back to Katya and Lena’s apartment for tea. Walking outside, the girls were all very concerned about my wet head (they had dried their hair, but I didn’t bother)—“You’ll freeze!” they said. I looked at them, confused. It was maybe in the upper fifties or low sixties outside, and we only had to walk ten feet or so to Lena’s (the other Lena) car. As it turns out though, Sunday was the first hint of the cold that was to come. By Monday, I had traded in my flip-flops and t-shirts (which I had been wearing all through last week) for boots and coats. We went from summer to winter basically overnight, it seems. But I digress again!

On Monday, I began my second unit with the fourth-years, this time on “The Crucible.” Unfortunately, since I don’t have all that much time with them, I don’t want to spend more than one lecture class and one practice section on any single unit, so we had a lot to get through that day. I tried to mix the lecture up, including some poetry and a conveniently appropriate short story recording that I found on voa.org (an invaluable site for any teacher of English as a second or foreign language), pictures, and discussions about witch-related traditions as well as basic history and contextual information, but I think it was a lot for the students to take in at once. I’m going to try to find some way to actually give my lectures to them for study purposes, because I’ve also noticed that they never take notes unless I specifically tell them what to write down, and honestly, they’re too old for that.

In the practice sections, however, we actually acted out the scenes that we read. The students seemed a little hesitant at first, but then they all really got into it—even quiet Igor, who usually sits silently at the back of the room, really put on a good show. Some students even managed to memorize a few lines in the 40 minutes I gave them to practice. It ended up being a lot of fun! After class, a few of the girls in the second section even invited me to hang out with them that night. We spent three hours chatting at a pizzeria (all in Russian, and I only asked for translations twice all night), after which they walked me back to the dorm (more evidence of Russian hospitality/protectiveness).

The rest of the week went very well, I think. The change to actual fall weather really improved my mood, and I’ve had more work of late to keep me busy. On Wednesday, I helped Masha 2 paint a poster for “First-Year Day.” That evening, I got a call from A. A. He asked me to help a teacher out with a translation project, which I happily agreed to do. They were actually translating a parent/teacher survey given by the Chicago Public School System, so it made me a little nostalgic. I met with the teacher on Thursday morning before class and again on Friday morning. She is an incredibly nice woman, and we were able to work together to get a pretty decent translation completed. When we finished on Friday, I headed to the library to do some work, but she came to find me a few minutes later to invite me to tea with her and her assistant. It was quite nice to sit around and chat with tea and sweets (which they kept piling onto my plate—“You need something sweet with your tea!”). This is definitely a tradition that needs to make its way back to the States. They also invited me to a celebration (I’m not sure what kind of celebration it will be—the Russians are a very celebration-happy people) on Tuesday, which I plan on going to, if my classes don’t interfere.

On Friday night, I went to the Дом Културы (House of Culture) to see the ballet. That’s right, the ballet—in Slavyansk! The Krasnodar ballet is beginning a tour of the region, and we were the first stop. It was wonderful to be able to attend a performance again. Parts of the show were really fantastic. There were scenes from Swan Lake, as well as dances put to music by Shostakovich and Rachmoninoff, two of my favorite composers. I have to say though, small-city ballet is small-city ballet. Slavyansk—and Krasnodar, for that matter—is not St. Petersburg, or even Chicago, and you can see that in the quality of the theater… and the fact that this is the first time the theater here has hosted any such performance since I’ve been here. It was nice, at least, to have the opportunity to see it, and I did enjoy myself. Slavyansk actually has a nice little theater—small and rather quaint, but tasteful and kept up better than any other building I’ve seen here.

I got a text from Masha 1 on my way back to the dorm to confirm our plans to go to Krasnodar tomorrow. She invited me to stop by their room when I got back to the dorm, so I did, though I was rather tired and hungry. As it turned out, they were just about to have dinner and greeted me with shouts of “Ura!” and a big plate of pelmeni and salad. I really like these girls. They’re pretty fantastic.

Further evidence to support the awesomeness of these girls: I had mentioned a few weeks ago that I needed a winter coat. Masha, hearing this, said that I needed to go to Krasnodar to get a good one, and offered to go with me. So on Saturday afternoon, we boarded the bus for the two hour ride to Krasnodar. Masha had arranged for a friend of hers, who lives in the city, to be our guide, since neither of us knew our way around. Her friend, Lena, met us at the bus station with a big smile and two very helpful hands. She whisked us around town from one store to another until we managed to find just what we were looking for, and Masha and I both ended the day with some very successful purchases. I was glad to get a chance to walk through Krasnodar, above all. It’s about a quarter of the size of Chicago, half the size of Philadelphia, and as such, to my mind, seems to be a pretty manageable city. I’d really like to look into events there and to get back as often as possible.

We got home around ten, at which point I happily made my way back up to my room, prepared a quick dinner, changed into my pajamas, and curled up in front of a play by Gogol that was playing on the “Kultura” channel. All in all, a good week! Things are definitely improving here.

Teaching at last, and discussions with Russians

(Originally written on 10.23.09)

I hadn't realized that it has been so long since I had last posted, but I have good reasons for it—I've actually been keeping busy with real work lately, as I've finally been given real teaching duties! I have my very own classes for third- and fourth-year students on American Culture, and I've been given (nominally, at least) complete freedom to design them howsoever I choose. I've decided to do a chronological survey of American Culture and History through literary readings. Our first lesson jumped ahead a little in time, because I wanted to start with something that really lay the foundations for American culture: The Declaration of Independence. It's a hard text to read, and a little dry if you're not particularly interested in the subject, but I think it went well. I was pretty impressed with the students' comprehension skills (their discussion skills were lacking a bit, but I think their English is very much like my Russian—they understand just about everything they hear, but it's difficult for them to respond and to answer questions). We got through the entire text in only two sessions per group. I brought in pictures, maps, games, and souvenirs to try to make things more interesting, but honestly, I think the students were a little baffled by my methods. Russian university classes are very formal—when I tried to teach them how to play hangman at the beginning of the second class to review vocabulary words, they were a little perplexed—not only at the rules, I think, but also as to why we were playing a game instead of doing dictation. They did get into it eventually though, but I think I'll have to do a little thinking to find activities that are fun and make sense to a Russian class.

Our next lesson is going to be on «The Crucible,» and I have to say, I'm kind of looking forward to it. We're going to focus on witches during the first lesson, since Halloween is coming up. We'll read some poetry, listen to a short story about a witch I found on Voice of America (a fabulous site for English teachers, by the way), and talk about witches in fairy tales and in modern life. In the next lessons, we'll talk about the connection to the witch hunts of the 1950s, and then we'll act out some scenes from the play. I've spent most of this week preparing, so I'm hoping that it will go over well.

In other news, we celebrated «Den' Goroda,» or «City Day,» on Saturday, as it was the 144th anniversary of the founding of the town. I have never seen Slavyansk n/K that active before—there were people out on the streets, music playing, food venders everywhere—the air was permeated with the smell of sashlik and cotton candy, a very odd combination. There was even a carnival on the pier, complete with games and rides, and even a pony (though I think the pony is there every weekend, actually)! There was also an awards ceremony/talent show which highlighted the youth of the region. My personal favorites were the rythmic aerobics dance team and the singing group that sang about the stength and freedoms of Russia (in an ironic twist, I had to leave right after this song because, alas, my companions—the lovely girls from the dorm—were not free to stay out—the 10pm curfew for everyone under 18 was coming up!). We picked up some pizzas on our way back and spent the rest of the evening watching a movie in their room.

I've been using Russian a lot more, at last. I've also decided that the people I was most afraid to talk to in the beginnign—dorm workers and univeristy workers who speak no English and might not be totally familiar with my position—have become my favorite people to talk to. The same dorm babushka who checked in on me to make sure I was eating well a few weeks ago and who scolded the girls in the dorm for acting like children «in front of a grown person» (i.e., me), came by again to help me with my disfunctional toilet (again), and we actually ended up having quite a lengthy conversation about the town. She told me all of the sites I needed to see in Slavyansk, most of which I had not known about before. She said that she was disappointed in the students for not taking me there, and that I should make them show me around more. She also said that she scolds them a lot for not behaving themselves well in front of an adult, a teacher, but, sighing, said that they don't listen. I thought this was funny—I know that, officially, I'm a teacher here, and therefore technically an adult, but I don't mind it if the students treat me as one of their own in the evenings when we're hanging out—in fact, I like it. It's nice to have friends who are comfortable around me, despite the fact that I'm a foreigner, an dwho treat me just as they treat each other. I have no complaints!

I've also been making friends with some of the men and women who work both at the main campus of the institute and at Kubris, where the InYaz (Foreign Languages) faculty is. The security guard at Kubris has taken a real interest in my pronunciation. He sometimes makes me repeat words over and over until I get them exactly right (apparently, I haven't been properly pronouncing the soft sign in «нормально»). As we were doing this one day, one of the women who cleans the building, whom I had never actually officially met before, came over and started telling us how she thought that my Russian had really improved since I arrived—I didn't even know she had been listening, but that made it even nicer to hear (albeit a little strange). The cafeteria workers at the main campus have also taken an interest in me. They make sure I know what's on the menu every day and they teach me the names of food products I don't know. They also told me that, since I'm a teacher, I don't need to stand in line with the students, which was pretty cool. Again though, I had no idea they knew who I was—Ibut if I've learned anything here, it's that news travels vast. This is a small town, and they don't often get foreigners (as my troubles at the passport control office have taught me), so it's a big deal when one comes. I've been here almost two months already, and the novelty still hasn't worn off. It means that I get a lot of practice speaking with people though, which is really what I came here to do.

Moscow!

Warning: The following is a rather long entry detailing everything I did during my five days in Moscow last week. If you’re not interested in reading all of it, there are a few pictures that you can scroll down to check out and skip all of the distracting words.

Friday, October 2^nd:

I stepped out of my dorm into the cool early autumn air

of Southern Russia at 6:15 in the morning. The pre-dawn sky was still black, and I almost didn’t notice Andrei as he walked up the path to meet me. Andrei is a graduate student at the institute, and very kindly agreed to be my guide to and through Krasnodar. He is soft-spoken and exceedingly polite, but can navigate the city like none other. We walked the few blocks to the bus stop and boarded the 6:45 direct bus to Krasnodar which, in fabulous Russian fashion, left within seconds of the appointed departure time. I honestly have to say that, despite my (almost overwhelming) anticipation of the Moscow trip, I was a little sad as we drove out of Slavyansk-na-Kubani; while I don’t know that it has necessarily become a home to me just yet, it is a place whose streets I’ve gotten to know, and in a strange country, there’s comfort in anything recognizable, particularly if you’re going somewhere new.

It took about an hour to drive across the steppe (beautiful during sunrise—though unfortunately we were driving in the wrong direction to see it too well) to Krasnodar and another hour to drive through Krasnodar itself to get to the bus stop. From there, the ever-patient but quick-moving Andrei (with my suitcase in hand, in gentlemanly fashion) lead the way to a jam-packed Russian trolley (with the American fear of getting too close to someone, you’ll never see any bus or trolley packed as tightly as this one was) and then to a shuttle that would take us the rest of the way to the airport. After making sure I got checked in all right, he left, and I boarded my plane to Moscow.

From the air, I got my first good look at the general landscape of my region (I was barely conscious on my first flight in and didn’t notice much). Imagine the flatness of the Midwest. Now make it flatter, emptier, and bigger. I have to admit, I was kind of impressed b y the vastness of the nothingness that we flew over. I’m curious as to how much of the land is owned and cultivated. I know that this region is an agricultural center of Russia, but with that much space, I’m pretty sure that you could feed armies or small countries for quite some time. It’s pretty mind-boggling.

I also want to take a brief minute to give Aeroflot their due. Sure, the carryon baggage bins are half the size of regular bins and sure, their flights have been the bumpiest I’ve ever been on, but I’ll give credit to any airline that still gives out a free meal on two hour flights. I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t kind of look forward to their tasty desserts.

Ahem…

I think that I really have been spoiled by the gorgeous

weather we’ve been having in the south, because I was a little confused at first when we landed and everyone started putting on their heavy coats, gloves, and fur hats. I did, too (though I don’t have a fur hat), mostly because everyone else did and the insecure twelve-year-old in me didn’t want to be left out, but I became pretty grateful for the layers as soon as I stepped outside the plane.

My dorm babushka’s warnings against freezing in Moscow were well-founded—it was cold! Not bitterly cold, but it was a bit of a shock to my system, where the afternoons will see temperatures in the seventies, not the thirties. Of course, after four years in Chicago, where snow in early October was not uncommon, I’ve learned to deal.

Masha, my lovely fellow-ETA, was kind enough to come meet me at the airport. I was absolutely thrilled to see her again, and we spent the entire marshrutka ride into the center of town chatting away about our towns, our schools, our friends, and anything else we could think to chat about. It was wonderful to see a friend again and to talk about our experiences so far in Russia—not to mention to talk with another native English speaker. I had forgotten how good it felt to talk fast without worrying that I wouldn’t be understood!

We made it back to the apartment of the incredible couple, Masha’s former professor and her husband, who had agreed to host us during our stay in Moscow. They weren’t home at the time, but a pot of borsch was waiting for us on the stove, which we heated up and enjoyed, again in Russian fashion, with smetana. It was my first taste of actual borsch with beets (the borsch here must be a regional variant, because as far as I can tell, they don’t use beets), and I actually rather enjoyed it! So in case any parents or grandparents have been worrying about my eating habits: no need to fear! I’m coming to enjoy Russian food (Susie and Tyler: your days of eating my pickle chips may be at an end, I’m sorry to say).

Masha and I were both pretty tired in the evening, she having spent all night on a train with three strange men and I having not slept much the night before, but we had to get out and do something on our first night in Moscow (that is, my first night, and her first night on this trip—she has spent time in Moscow before, which I was grateful for, as she very adeptly guided us through the metro). So we headed out around 6pm and hopped on the metro.

Let me digress here for a moment. The Moscow metro. New York City has nothing on the Moscow metro system. The masses of humanity converge underground in Moscow. I swear, I have never seen so many people in one place in my life. Plus, you think the Washington, DC escalators are steep? Nope. Not compared to Moscow’s they’re not. You can spend three minute just riding an elevator up. I got pretty bad vertigo my first time, actually. Finally, the stations themselves are often works of art, with paintings or engravings on the walls, statues and chandeliers, and magnificent halls. Some of them were pretty incredible.

Masha indulged my weakness for Russian literary icons, and we got off at Pushkinskaya station. We came above ground, and the first thing I saw (aside from the giant MacCafe) was a somber-looking Pushkin statue. I was positively giddy—I’m not ashamed to admit that I may have let out a squeak or two. I dutifully took out my camera and snapped some shots, completely unconcerned with the fact that my body language and actions just screamed “Tourist!” I didn’t care—this was Pushkin, by god!

From there, we walked down Tverskaya (still giddy, recalling every familiar street name from Dostoevsky) to Red Square (at the entrance to which I very coincidentally and very appropriately got a call from Brinton in Tajikistan!). Let me tell you, pictures do not do Red Square justice. My jaw just dropped when I passed beyond the gates. For one thing, it’s a lot bigger than I imagined. Most impressive, though, was, of course, St. Basil’s. If you ever have a chance to see it in person, I would encourage it. The building is so much more beautiful in real life than any picture would suggest. We also happened t get there just after dusk, while there was still some light in the sky, as gray storm clouds were blowing by. I can’t imagine a more iconic Russian image.

We headed back to the apartment after that, as it was cold and dark and we were getting rather tired. We stopped off in a market to pick up something for dinner and went back. When we arrived, we were met at the door by Tatyana Evgeneevna, Evgenii Semyonovich, and their dog, Chara (a chocolate lab! I felt like I was home). I want to take a minute to just express my gratitude to them and to say what wonderful people they are. They both speak impeccable English, but we decided to speak only in Russian. I have to say, I’m kind of impressed with myself—I understood almost everything that was said during my stay there, though I wasn’t always able to respond. It was a huge relief to me, since I had been worrying that my Russian wasn’t improving as fast as I think it should. However, it might be that the accent here is even thicker than I had thought, which would explain why I can’t always understand things that I really should. Or it could just be that the vocabulary I learned isn’t really suitable in conversational speech with teenagers, which is mostly what I hear here. Ah, well…

Anyway! Tatyana Evgeneevna took the chicken that Masha and I had brought and magically made a fantastic dinner out of it. Like my grandmom, she seems to have the skill of throwing whatever happens to be around together and making a delicious meal out of it. Alas, I don’t think that this is a skill I will ever acquire…

It felt so good to be in somebody’s home again. I’ve lived in a dorm before and am very familiar with the pleasant feeling of returning to a home after the bare walls and stale air of a dormitory, but I think the feeling was even heightened this time just because I’m so far away from my home. Crawling into bed that night, I felt calmer and cozier than I had in a long time.

Saturday, October 3^rd:

Masha and I got up early on Saturday morning to shower and eat breakfast before heading out. A nice breakfast of tea and fried cheese patties (for lack of a better explanation for those who aren’t familiar with Russian traditional cuisine) was waiting for us—another unexpected but welcome luxury of living in a home. A home-cooked breakfast! My usual breakfast of crackers and juice with the occasional banana no longer seems so tasty.

After eating and getting ready for the day, Masha and I headed out. Our destination that morning was, for me, a pilgrimage of sorts: the Tolstoy museum (and yes, I do know how much of a dork that makes me)! After asking directions of several people and walking past the museum at least once, we found made it there. The museum is actually Tolstoy’s Moscow estate, preserved and kept the way it was when he lived there. Honestly—and I say this without shame—it was almost like a religious experience for me to be there (…all right, not totally without shame, after seeing that in print). It was incredible. I saw the study where he wrote “The Kreutzer Sonata, “ “The Death of Ivan Ilych,” and so many other incredible works. Walking into his reception room, I could perfectly picture the St. Petersburg society gatherings in War and Peace. It seemed strange though, that someone who disavowed that work, along with Anna Karenina and all previous works, founded Tolstoyism and favored going to the peasants over society life could stay in an estate like that. More of the paradox of Tolstoy, I suppose.

We left, very satisfied and with posters of the writer in hand, to meet up with another friend of Masha’s for a brief drive through the city. Meeting all Masha’s friends, I started to realize how important connections and networking actually is, especially in a foreign country. The entire Moscow trip was made so much easier by the people she knew, all of whom were more than willing to help out in any way they could. But again, I digress. He dropped us off by the MacCafe, and Masha and I headed off to meet Tatyana Evgeneevna and Evgenii Semyonovich for lunch (from here on T. E. and E. S.). We met outside of T. E.’s university where E. S. picked us up in their car and took us to lunch. We went to a nice restaurant in the center of town where I indulged in autumn flavors with pumpkin soup and apple pie. I left with a very warm (and full) feeling in my stomach.

From there, T. E. and E. S. took us to Kolomenskoe, formerly an ancient tsarist village on the outskirts of the city. It was incredibly beautiful, with gardens and orchards everywhere, and an absolutely stunning church overlooking a lake built by the father of Ivan the Terrible. Unfortunately, I didn’t take any pictures (the morning was warm, but the cold air arrived in the afternoon, and the thought of taking my gloved hands out of my pockets was not terribly appealing to me), but this is another place that I would definitely encourage any travelers to Moscow to visit. It was absolutely gorgeous.

After that, we decided to drive past MGU (Moscow State University), considered to be the best (and possibly the biggest—I’m not sure) university in Russia. It was quite a sight. Long paths lined by birch groves lead up to a massive and impressive-looking building on one side and a landing overlooking the entire city on the other. I’d like to go back and have a closer look around the area some time, but due to the cold and the fact that we were all getting a little tired, we only briefly got out of the car to have a look at the view of the city, after which we headed home for tea and sleep.

Sunday, October 4^th:

I woke up on the cool Sunday Moscow morning to another nice breakfast waiting for me, this time kasha (which I had never had before) and yogurt (the first tasty yogurt I’ve had, though unfortunately I haven’t been able to find it here). After a leisurely meal, Masha and I headed out with T. E. to Red Square, where we were going to meet up with a Fulbright Scholar, Katriva, and her son, Chase, and tour the Kremlin. After some phone snags, we found them in front of St. Basil’s. It was nice to meet up with another Fulbrighter, and I have to say, Katriva and Chase are pretty fantastic people. They are learning Russian, and I think that Chase’s “спасибо!” (spacibo / thank you) when T. E. handed him a souvenir was perhaps the cutest thing I have ever seen (he’s five)… besides his cry of “сыр!” (sir / cheese) when we were taking a picture.

The five of us headed into the Kremlin together, with T. E. as our guide. She seems to know everything there is to know about this city, its history and culture. I was very grateful to have her there with us. We walked all around the grounds and visited a few churches before heading out. We went back to Red Square, where we met up with Matt. It was great to see him again—it’s always exciting, too, to see a reminder of home in a foreign country. T. E. left us to go to work just as Matt joined us, and we went to grab a bite to eat before deciding what to do next.

Luckily, as it turned out, a whole group of ETAs just happened to be at Red Square at the same time, so we were able to meet up with them for lunch and adventures. It was wonderful to be reunited with everyone. We hadn’t seen each other since July, and even then we only spent five days together, but it seemed as if no time had passed at all, and we all got along just as well as we did in DC. I really want to emphasize what a great group of ETAs we have—I feel very lucky to be a part of it. I’m only disappointed that the ETAs in other countries in the region weren’t able to join us. I hope we’ll have a chance to meet up with them again at some point.

Anyway! After lunch, we walked around a little bit (acting totally like the tourists we are) and made our way back to St. Basil’s. This time, however, we actually went in. The cathedral is stunning from the inside as well as the outside. Every little chapel, every little room, was stunning in its own way. The entire second floor is a maze, however, and you have to be careful not to get lost and not to miss anything.

After St. Basil’s, we took a stroll through ГУМ (the huge department store on Red Square), mostly just to see what it was like, and then went off to Izmailovo, a huge outdoors crafts/gifts/flea market-esque complex. I’m definitely going to go back there next time I’m in Moscow to buy souvenirs for everybody. It’s really pretty amazing. You really could find anything at all there. I was particularly amused by all of the Soviet memorabilia. I’m going to have to stock up on pins and posters before I leave.

I split from the rest of the group around 5:30 and left Izmailovo on my own to go meet up with Masha (who had split off earlier to take care of something) at Pushkin, because T. E. and E. S. had arranged to take us to see an operetta! It was an incredibly thoughtful gesture on their part. I was thrilled to have the opportunity to see the theater in Moscow, and I really enjoyed the show we saw (and I understood almost all of it, which was quite exciting). We headed back home after that, had tea, and stayed up for a little while chatting and taking advantage of the wi-fi in the apartment. I don’t think we got much sleep that night, but hey—we were in Moscow, and who needs sleep, anyway?

Monday, October 5^th:

We had to get up early on Monday, which didn’t help the whole sleep situation. Ah, well! I wanted to go to the hotel where the rest of the Fulbrighters were staying in order to check in and register, as well as to meet up with them to head to the embassy. We joined them for breakfast (T. E. had already prepared omelets for us at the apartment, however) and then set out as a group, Valya at the head, swiping all of us into the metro with her super metro card. To my great surprise, we all made it onto the same train and got to our stop in one group. We arrived at the embassy on time, went through the long process of getting through security, and then it was off to the meeting.

I actually found all of the sessions at our orientation on Monday pretty interesting. We heard more about the other Fulbright programs, about safety, etc., but perhaps most interesting was the session on economy. Who would have thought that I would enjoy a session on the economy? But somehow this was quite engaging. However, the most exciting part of the morning was when the ambassador himself came in to introduce himself. Apparently, he was just passing by when he heard that a group of Fulbrighters was in the building, and wanted to stop in to greet us! I have to admit, I felt like kind of a big deal when he came in.

After our meetings, we all went to lunch. I found it kind of amusing that, out of all the restaurants in Russia, we picked a burger joint, but hey—I’m not complaining. I got red meat in my system for the first time in a month and a half, and now I can say that the first real hamburger I had was in Russia. Not weird at all!

From there, we all went to the Moscow American Center to meet the people who run it and to hear about all of the resources available to us there. More and more on Monday, I realized what an incredible expat network there is in Moscow and how many opportunities and resources are available to us. Unfortunately, I’m too far away to make much use of it, but it really did encourage me even more to reach out to anybody and everybody relatively close to me and to take advantage of all possible opportunities to participate in events and programs in my region. I’m willing to take an overnight train every now and then to Rostov-na-Donu or to Sochi (which is a little closer) to participate in the Access programs from time to time, if I can. I’ve already started emailing contacts there, so here’s hoping I’ll be able to take part somehow.

But again, I see that I’ve digressed. After the (pretty brief, since we were running late) meeting at the American center, we broke off into groups for walking tours through Moscow. Unfortunately, as we were late, the tours had to be shortened, but they were still pretty interesting. Our tour guide reminded me of Baba Yaga (except that she was super sweet) and knew everything there was to know about the city. She guided us through the rain back to Red Square, explaining the history of the streets and the buildings on the way. Unfortunately, I think we were all pretty tired and didn’t pay quite as close attention as we would have liked, but it had been a long day, and we were exhausted and hungry. At the end of the tour, our lovely little guide gave us all hugs and kisses and sent us on our way.

The younger members of our group met up with the rest of the ETAs for dinner, after which most of them went back to the hotel to rest for a little while. At this point, I wanted to move into the hotel, because a) it would be much more convenient to get to the meeting and eventually to the airport tomorrow from there and b) I wanted to have at least one night with the rest of the Fulbrighters. I felt bad leaving T. E. and E. S. after all they had done for me, but they understood that it was simply more convenient this way. Matt was kind enough to accompany me and Masha back to the apartment, which was very nice. We stayed for tea (how could we not?) and ended up sitting around until, I think, about 9:30. Once Matt and I realized what time it was, we decided to head out. After dropping my bag off at the hotel, we followed the instructions of the rest of the ETAs who had gone out (they left only a few minutes before us) until we all found each other at a bar somewhere downtown. It was nice just to relax and hang out with everybody for a little while—again, this is a really great group of people. We stayed until just before the metro closed and left just in time to make it back to the hotel. A few of us ended up staying up until four in the morning just hanging out, playing the banjo, and singing. That meant that I only got three hours of sleep that night (and I had a cold coming on, to boot), but it was well worth it—though I will say, Fulbright doesn’t skimp on the hotel rooms—those beds were very, very comfortable.

Tuesday, October 6^th:

After another early breakfast in the hotel, the ETAs headed back to the embassy for a final session. This meant that I had to say goodbye to Matt at breakfast, which was too bad. I was kind of disappointed that I wasn’t able to go see Lenin with him, but I suppose that will have to wait for next time. We made it to the embassy without Valya’s help this time, and only a little late. Once there, we had one more session on Fulbright programs and resources that we could take advantage of, and picked up a lot of free Fulbright swag. After that, we gathered on the couches and just talked about our experiences so far, teaching methods, etc. It was really helpful to hear what other people had been going through—it seems like we’ve all been having some similar experiences, which was encouraging.

People started to split up after that, as some of us had planes and trains back to our towns to catch. I had time for a quick lunch with a few of the remaining ETAs, but I had run back to the hotel right after that so that I could catch my plane.

I really did not want to leave Moscow, I’ll admit. More and more, I’m realizing that I really am a city girl. Being in a big city, with all of the resources, activities, and sites made me really nostalgic for Chicago (a feeling which was emphasized by the similar weather). I think that I am in one of the smallest towns of all the ETAs—I hadn’t even realized how small my town was until I talked to a few of the others. As I boarded the plane, I wondered how on earth I was going to stand a whole year way out in the country, with only a few trips to “real” cities. I have to say, I was kind of sad to have to leave.

However, those feelings were, at least in part, mitigated when I landed in Krasnodar. Andrei was there to meet me with a friend of his who was going to drive us home. His friend was so excited to meet me, so surprised that I spoke some Russian, and so excited to have the chance to speak some English, that I couldn’t help but be excited myself, despite the exhaustion that plagued my mind and my body and the cold that was starting to take its toll. It is nice to be somewhere where people are genuinely excited to have you.

Wednesday, October 7^th:

Slept all day. Nothing terribly exciting.

Thursday, October 8^th:

The reception I got on returning to the Foreign Languages department on Thursday from teachers and students alike further helped to temper my big-city longings. Katya greeted me with a huge smile and tons of questions. I went to two classes with her, and in one of them, I even got to lead a discussion, which was pretty exciting. I wish I had had more time to prepare, but I think it went well, regardless. I also had a meeting with A. A. in the afternoon wherein he told me that my request to be utilized more in the classroom has been acknowledged (I think I have Becca at the Moscow Fulbright office to thank here), and that in addition to the graduate class in which I will be the assistant teacher in November, I will also be given my own class of undergraduates to teach. My very own class! I was very excited, and headed home pleased. As I stepped off the marshrutka at my stop, I didn’t even have time to turn my head before I heard someone call my name. I looked over and saw Masha and Roseanna, with big smiles on their faces, telling me that they missed me and were glad to have me back! It was so sweet to hear. I ended up chatting with them for a while (during which I got a call from the dean of the Foreign Languages department to organize a time to meet tomorrow to discuss my classes) before heading home. I spent the rest of the evening continuing to recuperate from my cold in my room, so there isn’t much more to say here…

Friday, October 9^th:

Today, I officially became a teacher!

…Well, my classes don’t start until Tuesday, but I officially have classes, so I feel at a liberty to take the title.

Starting on Tuesday (I will usually have classes on Monday, but not this week), I will be teaching a class on American Culture to third and fourth year students—three classes of third years and three classes of fourth years a week. I get to pick whatever I want to discuss. I can’t say how excited I am. I don’t have too much time to start planning, so this will be a busy weekend, but I am really looking forward to it. Hooray!

A spontaneous scavenger hunt

Yesterday, I was due to give my first official lecture to a group of fourth year English students. I spent several hours preparing the lecture on the American university system and student life and had practiced speaking slowly and clearly the night before. I arrived at the kafedra early in the morning, although the class wasn't scheduled to start until noon, in case there were any other
lessons I could sit in on first. I was a little confused when, walking into the room, the secretary (the only one there) gave me a funny look, but I sat down in the back with the little dictionary I've been working on and quietly studied for a little while. Around 11:45, after I had been there for over two hours, I finally decided to ask where everyone was. As it turned out, in typical Russian fashion, the schedule had changed at the last moment, and no one had thought to tell the foreigner. It seems that yesterday, today, and tomorrow are "kolkhoz" days--a holdover from the Soviet era of collective farming, I suppose--and all of the students were either working in the gardens, the fields, or picking apples in the orchard, and that there are no classes for the rest of the week. That would explain her surprise at seeing me there, as well as the students I saw gardening on the campus lawn as I walked in... At any rate, that meant that, although my lecture will be postponed, I have one and a half days all to myself (it would have been two had I known, but, alas! I think I'll get over it). They happened, moreover, to be exceptionally nice days. Cool enough to wear a sweater, but sunny and warm enough that you wouldn't be too chilly wandering around outside. So that's exactly what I did--and consequently, the rest of the day turned into a spontaneous scavenger hunt.

I left campus around noon and decided to head to the rinok (marketplace), my new favorite place to wander around. I got off the marshrutka in the town center and walked to the rinok from there, where I promptly bought myself a pirozhok and some "coffee" (there's nothing like a nice, hot beverage on a chilly fall day) and began to slowly wander the aisles. I wasn't looking for anything in particular, but I ended up with some good finds. Item number one: clotheshangers! Russians are not big on closets, or on hanging things up, for that matter. Lying your clothes on shelves is the way to go here. I adjusted with my sweaters and dress pants, but I can't help but look at my dresses and coats forlornly as I get dressed each morning. I hadn't been able to find hangers anywhere, but yesterday, at long last, success! After fumbling through the language and fumbling with my food and my wallet, I happily walked away with enough hangers to hang my dresses and coats.

Pleased with myself, I decided to make one last round of the boots before heading to Moscow. The weather in Moscow is, let's say, not as pleasant as the weather in Slavyansk, and I don't think my dress shoes and flats will suffice, and I don't want to subject my nice boots to the freezing rain. I had gone around town, to shops and to the market, with Katya on Sunday to find warm winter boots, but to no avail. Since it's still rather warm here, most people aren't yet selling winter boots, and those that are available are rather expensive. Moreover, Katya was a little apprehensive about my ability to converse with the shopkeepers at this point. Well! Item number two then came as a pleasant surprise: warm winter boots! I was standing in front of a stall, just looking, when the very pleasant shopkeeper came over and showed me some boots that I hadn't seen. I wasn't looking to purchase, but she showed me a pair that was just what I was looking for at a price that I was willing to pay and was, moreover, my size! This woman was very pleasant and spoke slowly and clearly when I explained that Russian was not my first language. She assured me that the boots were in fashion, but were so cheap (about $46 USD, which, for the quality, is much cheaper than you could get in the states) because they were last year's model. I decided to get them. I might have been able to get a better deal in a month or two, but I'd rather be prepared for the winter than cold if it comes up unexpectedly. Plus, now I'll be warm in Moscow!

Very satisfied with my finds, I decided to drop them off at home and then set out again on another walk. On my way home, I made another unexpected find: a bank that a) would exchange my dollars, hence saving me from the extreme charges of using an ATM and b) was actually open. I returned as soon as I dropped my purchases off at home and stocked up on roubles. As I was walking back with these purchases, I made my final exciting find of the day: an internet cafe! Moreover, an internet cafe where I can scan, print, fax, and basically do anything I could do at a Kinkos back home. Hooray! I haven't checked rates yet, but with all of the internet issues I've had, I'm glad to at least know it's here.

In short, the day was no Scav (ah, I miss my U of C...), but it was still pretty exciting.

After a day of absolutely perfect weather, we had a rather intense rainstorm last night. Fortunately, I had been home for a little while already and could enjoy it from the comfort of my room with a hot beverage and a cookie. The skies cleared this morning, and I have another lovely day off. I think I'll spend it taking some more walks and enjoying the sun and warm air before departing for Moscow tomorrow. The next post: adventures in MOSCOW! Can I contain my excitement until then..?