An Homage to Dorm Babushkas

I’d like to take a moment to express my gratitude for and adoration of the babushkas who work in the dorm, cleaning after and keeping track of the students who live here. They act in part in a role similar to that of the RH’s in the University of Chicago dorms, insofar as they look after everyone and keep them in line, but their job goes much farther. They’ve been looking after me with particular care since I got here. They understand that, particularly at the beginning, it’s difficult to live in a foreign country, and they’ve been wonderfully willing to act as a resource for me and to help me. For example, when my toilet broke during my first week and I had trouble communicating the urgency of the problem (and was stressed out and homesick besides) they calmed me down and sent someone to help. About two weeks in, one of the women came up to my room to encourage me to socialize with the students in the dorms more and to not be shy and hide in my room. She also took an inventory of the food I had in my little kitchen to make sure I was eating well enough and promised to teach me how to make soup some time, because apparently I don’t eat enough soup. She was actually the first person with whom I had a relatively lengthy conversation in Russian. About a week later, another woman came to my room with fresh linens and towels and cleaned my floors. This week, when I asked to use the laundry machines to wash some jeans, another woman simply did my laundry for me (and even hung up my clothes and returned my detergent to my room when she was done). They all know who I am and know that my Russian is not perfect and are very accommodating. They call me “Sarochka” (the diminutive form of my name) and say I’m “molodets” (which can be roughly translated as a “good fellow/girl”) and praise my Russian.

The dorm also has a general manager, a middle-aged man who, honestly, looks like he came straight out of a mob movie, but he has also been quite wonderful to me. Every time I see him he invites me to his office for sweets and cognac and conversation (though I’ve not yet taken him up on his offer). He seems like quite an intriguing character. He can also speak a little English, which I only found out recently, though he’s a little hesitant to speak in English with me, but does when something goes wrong (for example, when my toilet broke again) and I’m visibly distressed (and if you know me at all, you know that I’m a very anxious person…) so that I don’t have to go through the additional stress of speaking a foreign language. Again, incredibly accommodating.

I’m pretty sure that the students who live here don’t get all of the special treatment that I’ve been getting, however. I also noticed this week that I seem to have a bit more freedom than the students (seeing as I’m, you know, not a student here). I spent a few nights this week enjoying tea and company with some of the first year students, and I discovered another role of the dorm babushkas: around 10:30 each night, they come around to every room to make sure that all of its inhabitants are accounted for (the dorm has a curfew of 11pm). A little after 11, they come by again and kick out all of the boys from the girls’ room. I have to say, it’s interesting to me to see how little freedom these students have in comparison to students at American colleges and universities, in terms of their education and their living situation. They can’t choose their classes, they’re not allowed to leave the classroom before the bell rings, the structure of the classes themselves are more reminiscent of high school lessons than college lessons (in terms of homework and teaching methodology), and they even only take notes when the teacher specifically tells them to (I tried to explain how American students, from primary school through college, are expected to decide for themselves when to take notes, and they were shocked—“But how do you know what’s important if the teacher doesn’t tell you? How do you know what you will be tested on?” Dictation is huge here). They can’t have guests in the dorms, they can’t be out past a certain hour, they can’t stay in their friends’ rooms until all hours at night, and I don’t think all of them even have keys to their own rooms—there’s a wall of keys in the laundry room and they get their room key from there when they need to unlock their door. But no one checks up on me and I have my own key. Another bonus of being a teacher!

To top it all off, it’s apparently cheaper to live here than anywhere else (I’ve asked, but still haven’t gotten a specific answer as to the cost of the dorm). It’s a pretty nice setup, I have to say—although I am looking forward to returning to the days where I don’t share a wall with a seventeen-year-old boy who likes to listen to techno loudly and at all hours. Small sacrifices for the convenience of the arrangement, I suppose!

Small Victories

Yesterday was a day of small victories. I didn’t sleep very well the night before and felt completely drained still when my alarm went off at 7:20 this morning. I thought that I would head to campus, take in a class or two, then head back home and take a nap. One thing I’ve noticed about living in a foreign country is that it’s extremely exhausting. The little things that are just a part of everyday life at home become tasks or events in and of themselves here. Just the act of listening to people and trying to communicate is a chore. It’s a little less intimidating now than it was when I first got here, but I have to say, I’m incredibly relieved when I crawl into bed at night (much earlier than I would at home, too).

At any rate, I did stumble out of bed and walk the half mile or so to the bus stop. Small victory #1: I realized that I can now recognize my stop at the main campus (all of the street corners outside the city center look the same, and the marshrutki drivers drive very fast) and, moreover, have finally worked up the courage to call out “Na ostanovke, ostanovites!” (“Stop at the bus stop”). It seems silly to think that just being able to get to the place I go every day is an achievement, but it feels like it is.

As per usual when I arrive on campus, I went up to the second floor and checked out today’s schedule. And, as per usual, the actual schedule turned out to be nothing like the posted one. I asked one of the girls in the fourth course about this, and she says it’s true—the schedule changes more or less every day, which is very inconvenient for someone without a steady “kurse” or a group. Fortunately, this girl (who has been very helpful over the past two weeks, I should add, though communication has been a bit tricky) was able to lead me to a lesson a different group was having—first years, I think. It turned out to be a class on syntax, taught by the Dean of the Philology Faculty, on some of the same topics that I was taught in Elementary Russian. Much like most native English speakers, native Russian speakers often know how to speak without necessarily knowing the rules behind the language—hence courses like syntax. Luckily for me, having studied these topics before (basically, how words are governed in a sentence, how some verbs can take different cases, etc.) meant that I understood a good deal of the hour-and-a-half-long lecture. Victory #2: I was able to answer, truthfully, that I “more or less” understood what was said when the dean asked me at the end of the lesson.

I headed down to the library after class to check my email and take care of some business online, as usual. I did get one rather exciting email today: I’ve successfully completed and passed the online TEFL/TESOL course I started in the spring, and am now officially TESOL certified. Victory #3! Here’s hoping it will help me get a job for next year, maybe as an ESL teacher?

Still exhausted and with a bit of a headache, I decided not to brave the Philology halls for the afternoon classes without a guide to help me navigate the non-schedule, and instead boarded a marshrutka home. I got off in the city center again to restock on bananas and to search for cleaning supplies so that I could hand-wash some clothes. I do have access to a washing machine, but rather than bringing three weeks worth of clothes down to the friendly and helpful babushkas who work here (and have really been looking out for me, I have to say), I thought I would take care of some of the smaller items myself. I picked up some detergent and a bucket and headed home. On the way, I passed through a little open market and found, to my great delight, a little knife. I haven’t been able to find a small, cheap knife yet, so I was thrilled. I gladly handed over 50 rubles for the opportunity to cut my cheese with a knife rather than a fork! Ура! Victory #4.

When I got back to my dorm, I had a quick lunch of raspberry-filled blinochkis, peach juice (absolutely delicious), and a banana, and set to work. Victory #5: I cleaned a few items of clothing by hand. Again, it sounds small, but I had never done it before. I also have to admit that I don’t think I did a very efficient job. If anyone has any tips about washing clothes by hand, I’d greatly appreciate it...

I sat down to relax in front of some mindless TV for a little while, but around 3, looking out the window and realizing that it was the first truly nice day all week (the weather had warmed up quite a bit, too), I felt silly wasting it lolling about inside. Besides, I had long had a plan for just such a day. Changing back into my clothes (I had put my pajamas on in anticipation of a nap), I grabbed my Russian-English dictionary, my notebook, and a pen, and headed out. There’s a bookstore about a block and a half from my dorm—that was my first destination. I had been there once before with Katya, in search of a book of fairytales, and had noticed a whole wall of classic Russian literature. I walked straight to that wall at the back of the store today. I spent a good ten minutes just staring at my options, while perhaps the tiniest puppy I have ever seen followed me around and licked my toes (her owner was busy on his own search). I had the Brothers K. in my hand and even read the first page without the aid my dictionary, but ultimately decided on something a little easier to read for my first endeavor, and settled on a collection of Anna Akhmatova’s poetry and prose. I have a bilingual book of her poetry at home, but this has much more (and is much prettier). Victory #6: communicating with shopkeepers and finding what I wanted.

Lovely new book in hand, I headed out again. This time, my destination was the little cafe (Cafe Little Red Riding Hood) in the park I found on my walk on Sunday. As a side note, as I was walking there, I noticed that the leaves on one of the trees (but only one) were turning yellow, and it made me very excited for the coming changes and cool weather. The town is going to be gorgeous when all of the trees are red and orange. But I digress. I made it to the cafй and sat down in the outdoor pavilion with my tea and my Russian literature. It was quite nice.

It began to get cooler out around 5, as usual, so I decided to return to the dorm, having forgotten to bring along a jacket. I stopped at the market to pick up something for dinner and have spent the rest of the evening so far just relaxing. I think I’ll go to bed early tonight. Here’s hoping I have a little more luck staying asleep (what a victory that would be!).

Bananas and Blinochki

Fall seems to have finally fallen on Slavyansk-na-Kubani—and quite literally, given that fall marks the beginning of the rainy season, which continues through winter. The rain started on Sunday evening and, except for the evenings today and yesterday, it’s been gloomy out ever since. A group of students took advantage of the comparably nice weather last night and were playing guitar and singing outside the dorm, which I was able to listen to through my open window (I was already in my pajamas and too tired to go out, alas).

I’m glad, though, that I remembered to take my camera with me when I went for a walk on Sunday, the last truly nice summer-y day.

My walk took me down the town’s main street, ул. Красная (ulitsa Krasnaya / Red Street) (as an aside, the street names here are largely a fun mix of communism- and literature-influenced names—there’s Pushkin Street and Lermontov Street, and Komsomol Street ~Communal Youth [this one is harder to translate] Street).

I like taking this street to the riverbank because it has several very nice parks and playgrounds along the way, all surrounded by trees and flowers.

I can say that one thing Slavyansk-na-Kubani definitely does better than any city or town in the U.S. that I’ve been to is playgrounds. They have the coolest toys and rides. Honestly, I’m really jealous of the kids who get to play here. Every park has, moreover, a little cafй area where you can get tea, cakes, and “milk cocktails” (snazzy milkshakes), sit in the shade, and relax.

The riverbank is my favorite destination on walks. It’s lined with flowerbeds and bright blue benches, which are always full of young people enjoying the nice southern weather. I always see gypsies there, too—but more on them in another entry.

I saw a little old man sitting on the opposite bank. There was something about him that struck me as perfectly narodni (if I can use the word—folk, of the people—like that). I had to take a picture (unfortunately, you can hardly see him in the small version).

This is the view along the river:

I wanted to walk along the river for a little while, but after an uncomfortable encounter with a soldier boy (more on that another time, too), I decided it would be wiser to turn back.

On my way back (after a cup of tea and some Dostoevsky at one of the park cafes), I took a look at the town’s war (or more appropriately, perhaps, wars) memorial.

I also took a picture of the yard in front of what I think is the courthouse (…or maybe it’s the building next to the courthouse). There’s a statue in front that you can sort of see in this picture—I bet you can guess who it is without even seeing him!

It’s not the only statue of this man in town, either.

I’m still taking classes in the literature department and hanging around the main campus this week. I actually stumbled upon a class on Turgenev, Dobroliubov, and the raznochintsy today—the same people and the same topic I wrote about in comparison to Dostoevsky in my B.A. thesis, so that was pretty neat. I also made a pretty fantastic find this afternoon. Continuing my search for cleaning equipment and a computer microphone, I got off the marshrutka in the town center today, where I saw advertisements for just the kinds of stores I needed, but what attracted my eye first of all was the big grocery store. I have been shopping at the market down the street from my dorm, which is big compared to the rest of the produkti magazini around town (it can actually call itself a universam), but this place was at least three times as big. I found microwavable blinochki, this interesting little candy bar that’s like pudding meets cheesecake, and, best of all, BANANAS. The greatest thing about this place though was that it took care of what has been my greatest problem with the markets here—weighing produce. I get flustered when it comes to numbers (I know them, of course, but for some reason I get really tongue-tied), and I still haven’t figured out how kilos correspond to ounces, etc. But at this store, they weighed your produce for you, thus eliminating any, you know, effort, on my part.

It’s funny how it’s the littlest things, like weighing my own produce, that have proved to be the most problematic. Maybe I should be relieved that my troubles have not been any worse than that! And now, at least, I have bananas (and apples and oranges and grapes, oh my!).

Day of Health

On Saturday, the Institute hosted its annual “День Здоровья,” or Day of Health. The Day of Health is a field day, of sorts, where students compete on teams with their departments in sporting events, dance competitions, cooking competitions, and the like. Participation is mandatory for all students and faculty, but it takes the place of Saturday classes for the day, so I didn’t hear many complaints.

The day started early. I met Katya and Lena outside at 7, when it was still not quite light out and pretty darn cold (of course, no one was dressed for the cold morning weather because temperatures were due to get into the low 80s later and they would, after all, be running around). We walked maybe a mile to the road where everyone was lining up with their departments, waited there for about an hour, donned our brightly colored hats (the Department of Foreign Languages was bright orange), lined up in columns of five, and walked another mile to the field. At 9, everyone had gathered and the opening ceremonies began.

One of the first competitions appeared to be a song and dance (or chant and dance) event. Groups made up their own words to popular songs, generally about making them about the day of health and how important it was, and accompanied them with little dance numbers.

From there, I went with Katya to check out the tug-of-war competitions. Now tell me, is it really fair to have the students from the Physical Education Department competing against the students in the Mathematics or Literature Departments? Come on now. It’s like taking the Governator in his prime and pitting him against the poor sickly Dostoevsky. No contest.

Here, students from our department are trying their hardest. They did end up winning a round, their very last (against the literature students, I think).

From there, I wandered around a little bit more, checked out the poster-making competition, listened to some students singing and playing their guitars, and watched another dance competition (below, the Phys Ed students show off).

At the end of the afternoon, we had a picnic feast and finished up the last competitions (I watched our fishing team by the river, where it was a bit warmer in the sun), and then the students had a mini “discotheque.” Discotheques seem quite popular here. The students seemed to enjoy themselves the most during it. Closing ceremonies followed, and finally we all processed out (again in orderly columns of five). We had a long walk home, made even more tiring by the fact that we had been on our feet for the past 8 hours. I collapsed in the dorm when I got home and fell asleep embarrassingly early.

All in all, an interesting, though exhausting, day.

A day in the life, and observations of Russian universities

I’ve started to fall into a regular pattern in my days. It’s comforting, I think, to have a regular path to follow in an unfamiliar place, though I think once I get to know the people and the area a little more, I’ll branch out. I’d like to hope so, at least…

I wake up every morning at 7 or 8, depending on when my first class is. I get myself up and ready, and head out the door to start my walk to the main campus, which hosts the Department of Philology (Фил Фак), my colleagues and classmates for the month. I brought my camera along yesterday to document my journey for the curious (and I’ll be honest upfront—I only took pictures of the nicest parts of my walk).

This is a typical neighborhood block. Most people in the town have quite extensive gardens, some with vegetable gardens, fruit trees, and maybe even a greenhouse.

Some people also keep fowl. I nearly tripped over a wandering rooster today in front of this same house. They’re all over the place, though perhaps not quite as common as the small dogs that roam the streets. Speaking of animal companions that can be found on the roads, I tried to snap a picture of the lizards or the toad that I saw, but they were all too quick for me.


This is my favorite corner along my path. I think the house is quite nice, and they have a beautiful garden out front. I like to take the particular route that leads me down this street. I imagine it’s one of the nicer areas of the town.


After half an hour or so, I reach the gates of the main campus. The path that leads up to the buildings is lined by flowers and birch trees, so I immediately feel as if I’m entering a truly Russian environment.

The main campus building used to be a kindergarden (the school is only about ten years old, which might account for what I can only assume to be remnants of the детский сад), and quite honestly, to my eyes, it still resembles one from the outside. The whole place is like one big garden (a взрослый сад, perhaps?).

The penguin trashcans are perhaps my favorite part of the campus. Again, I can only assume they’re left over from the building’s kindergarden days (I saw similar penguin trashcans at a local primary school, too).

Arriving at the Institute, I check the Фил Фак schedule to see what classes are available for the day, but more often than not, either a member of the faculty will lead me off to some class or a student will come up and ask, “Ты с нами?” and before I have time to answer, will take me by the arm and lead me to class. I don’t complain or question—I usually end up where I want to be anyway. After class, I’m usually invited to the faculty room (кафедра) for tea, after which I’m either off to another class or to the library. I usually hang around the building until 3pm or so, and then head home.

On my walk home yesterday, I went down a different street than usual, and found a huge weeping willow.

I was so excited that I took a picture of myself with it.

When I get back to the dorm (pictured below), I usually spend the afternoon reading and watching television (for listening practice, I tell myself), then make myself some dinner, read some more or chat with visitors, shower, make myself some tea (a habit to which I’m becoming quite accustomed), and go to bed.

I’m coming to understand the Russian university system, and the more time I spend in the Institute, the more differences I notice between Russian universities and American universities. For one thing, Russian students enter university after the eleventh form—that is, at age seventeen, at which point they’re expected to know exactly what they want to study, because they enter their department immediately in their first year. Of course, to make it that far, they have to pass the requisite state exams. It was very difficult for me to explain to some teachers and students that in the United States, the exam, though important, does is not the only factor in whether or not a student is accepted to a particular university. It was also hard to explain that in general, students in American universities do not have to pick their major or their department until after as many as two years. In Russia, if you change your mind about what you want to do after a few years, there isn’t a whole lot you can do about it.

I don’t know to what degree other universities differ in structure and organization from the Ped Institute here, but since it is a state university, I assume that it complies, at least to some degree, with a state-mandated structure. When you enter the institute as a 17-year-old student in the first course, as I said, you are already a member of a department, or факултет. Within that факултет, you take all of the same courses as everyone else in your year (sometimes, I think, the year is divided into groups, and you stay with your group). Students are required to take classes outside of their department (for example, every student takes physical education and a certain number of years of either English or German, as well as, say, statistics and psychology). However, those courses are also taken with the students in your year (курс)/group. No student is able to pick his or her schedule—the department decides everything.

There are other differences that, though perhaps more superficial, are also striking. For example, it’s not uncommon for a student (and remember, these students are between 17 and 22) to be married or even to have children. In fact, if you’re not married with children by, say, 26, it seems a little strange. I was a little taken aback when, during a discussion in the class I subbed for last week, one student said, “Well, my husband…” It just is not unusual here.

I’ve also noticed differences in disciplinary practices here. It seems almost paradoxical to me—when a teacher or faculty member enters a room, every student is expected to rise. However, throughout class, there is almost constant whispering (or plain talking out loud), note-passing, and text messaging. The room is abuzz with chatter, and teachers rarely do anything about it. As long as there are a few students paying attention and answering questions and the classroom isn’t so loud that no one can be heard, it’s allowed to continue. It’s making me a little nervous about the classes I’ll have to teach. I don’t want to allow that sort of behavior in a classroom, but if it’s considered common and even acceptable, how am I going to be able to control it? Clearly, I just have to focus on making my classes so interesting that no one can turn away… ahem.

Those are my initial observations, at least. More to come in the future, I’m sure!

Return to Taman', and the Festival of Legends

This past Sunday, the Institute hosted a trip to the Taman’ Festival of Legends. They had, if I understood correctly, a competition to see which departments could go (they obviously could not bring the entire Institute), and though Foreign Literatures was not one of them (though Philology was), I was able to tag along anyway. That is to say, I didn’t exactly tag along; rather, I was at the head of the convoy—meaning that instead of riding in the buses with the rest of the students, I rode with A.A. in the police car that headed up our mini motorcade. While I would have preferred to ride with the rest of the students, who very thoughtfully made it clear that I was welcome to go around with them, it was very interesting to ride in a Russian police car without having to worry about where they were taking me.

Our first stop was at a WWII monument, where we picked up our tour guide. Here is a picture of the monument:

And here is a picture of the police car I rode in:

Our next stop was in Taman’ proper. We visited a church, the oldest in Krasnodar Krai, built in the Greek style because of the former Greek presence in the area. Outside the church, there was a bazaar featuring representatives from many churches and monasteries in the area and abroad selling their products. They had everything from healing herbs, to crafts, to CDs, and more. I didn’t buy anything, but it was interesting to wander the aisles and see what was available.

This is the church we visited:

Finally, we made it to the festival. The festival was actually a sort of combination between an open-air museum and a Renaissance Faire. Here is a view from the top of the hill:

There were mock villages set up, representing various regions in the area, historical reenactments, and people walking around in various costumes (Cossacks, Chechen dancers, etc.). We spent several hours there wandering around and seeing what was there to be seen (pictured below).

In the evening, I went by the main stage, where they had performances by pop artists as well as traditional musicians and dancers—both immensely enjoyable. A huge firework display signaled the end of the night, and we all piled in our respective vehicles to head home. I think I fell asleep on the way (we didn’t leave until after 10 and it’s a 2.5 hour drive back), and the policemen were kind enough to drop me off right at my dorm, after which I promptly went to bed.


The next day (Monday) was the start of my first full week of classes. They’re going pretty well, I think. My vocabulary list grows exponentially every day, which is good insofar as I’m being exposed to many new words, but not so great insofar as I can’t possibly memorize them all as quickly as I write them down. It seems I need to just buckle down and spend a few hours every day studying. At least, thanks to the U of C, constant study is nothing new to me… (and I thought I had escaped!).

9-7-09

It’s been about a week and a half now, and I think I’m starting to figure out how to get by here, both in the town and at the institute. I’ve been walking around the town a lot lately (we’ve been having an Indian summer, so to speak, and it’s been quite warm) and can more or less find my way around. As it turns out, Slavyansk-na-Kubani is itself not a terribly old city and was, as such, actually planned in its construction—much like Chicago, the town is organized, for the most part, on a grid, so even if I do get a little lost (and I have…), it isn’t too hard to find my way back again. It’s nice to take long walks around here. To my delight, the official tree of the region is the weeping willow, one of my favorite trees. They line almost every street, and are interspersed with fruit trees and grape vines. The main road (Red Street) has a long flower arrangement/garden stretching down its length, not unlike the flowers on Michigan Ave. The road ends at the Протовка river. The bank is lined with benches in between small gardens, on which you can sit and look at the picturesque countryside around the river bend.

I like to walk home from the institutes in the afternoon, along the willow and fruit tree-lined streets. Not all of the roads and sidewalks are paved, so it can be a pretty dusty walk, and it can get rather hot (it’s about a 40 minute walk that I take at the hottest time in the day), but it’s still nice. I hope to have some pictures, both from my walk to the institute and some of the prettier areas in town, for the next post.

I’m also starting to learn how to navigate the маршрутки, the minivans that serve as busses around the town. The only trouble I’ve had when traveling alone on them is that I don’t know where all the stops are, and I still have trouble recognizing what street I’m on, so I have a tendency to either get off too early or too late. It’s easier to take it in the morning, I think, because there are a lot of people who are going to the same place I am—the Pedagogical Institute main campus.

Speaking of which, I’m starting to understand the way things work there, too. I, however, am not yet actually working there. The rectors of the institute have decided that I should spend the first month taking classes instead of teaching them. I’m not completely sure why I’m doing this—maybe the language barrier has made a full explanation difficult—but it may be that they want me to learn how university classes function in Russia, or that they want me to have some time to improve my Russian, or simply because my classes aren’t ready or organized yet. At any rate, I’m not going to complain. They said that since I’m interested in Russian literature, I can sit in on classes in the department of Philology. So far, I’ve taken several foreign literature classes and one Russian literature class, as well as several Russian language classes (the latter turned out to be a bit too difficult for me, though, since they cover issues that I never learned about in English, let alone in Russian).

I have had one opportunity to teach a class though. One English teacher had to miss a class this week, so I got to fill in for her fifth year (seniors) English class. It went pretty well, I think. We basically just had a question and answer session and discussed differences between Russia and the United States. I learned more about the region, about my (future) students, and about witches in Kamchatka. It was pretty neat. I also sat in on a third year class that day, where we had a similar question and answer session (though the questions were rather more conventional). All of the students are wonderful. The third year students, in particular, were very welcoming and understanding. They invited me to go out with them several times, and said that they would like to be my friend, because they know that I’m all alone here and that that might be sad.

The students in the dorm seem to have the same sentiment and have been pretty great. I’ve had several small groups or pairs of students come to my door to meet me (they all seem to know I’m here and want to see “our American”), to practice English, or to tell me about themselves and the institute. One group invited me to tea. Another brought over some pictures and videos from events at the institute, and later that evening, they sent me over some melon as a treat. They’ve all been awfully sweet.

Speaking of the dorm, several of you have asked what my room is like, so I thought I'd post some pictures. Everyone who has visited has said that I have a better room than most, because I have my own kitchen area and private bathroom (not to mention no roommate), so I should count myself lucky!

This is my bedroom. It's a little more homey now--I took these pictures on the first night I arrived, before I even unpacked.



Another view of my bedroom.


My bathroom.


My kitchen area. There is a larger public kitchen that I have access to if I need a stove or an oven.

I have been feeling the sting of the homesickness bug lately, which, admittedly, I did not really expect. I am grateful, however, for the support of my friends and family at home as well as the new friends and acquaintances that I’m meeting here.

Finally, I’d like to share a few pictures from my first (yes, just the first) excursion to Taman’!




This is me with a statue of Lermontov, outside the Lermontov museum.


This is a view of the Black Sea from outside the museum.

I returned to Taman’ again on Sunday with a large group of students from the institute, but it’s late, and I’m tired, so alas—those stories and pictures will have to wait until the next update. Later this week, I hope to also be able to post some pictures of the town itself. Until then...

8-27-2009
It seems I’ve found myself in Russia.

After some twenty-four hours of travel, in addition to another twenty-four of sleepness anxiety, I’ve somehow wound up in a very comfortable dorm room belonging to Slavyansk State Pedagogical Institute in Slavyansk-Na-Kubani, Russia. I remember the plane, bus, and car trips that brought me here, but for whatever reason, they still don’t seem to add up to answer the puzzle of my actually being here.

I think the shock of having moved to another country, which I had never been to before, hasn’t quite hit me yet. I have to pause before trying to pick up my phone (which doesn’t work here) to call Tyler or home, my regular move whenever I reach some destination. But I think it is just part of the process of going through the motions of being somewhere new and of doing something different. And so far, at least, there has been no question or panic (likely due, however, at least in part to the mind-and-body-numbing exhaustion).

There was the doubt this morning, when we dropped Tyler off at the train station to make his way to Harvard Law School, when I panicked over whether this is really the right thing to do. I think this must have preoccupied me until I actually boarded the flight to Moscow, because it wasn’t until we were speeding down the runway that I had that “oh, shit!” moment and suddenly realized that I m issed my opportunity to take Susie’s suggestion, made to me earlier in the day, to hop on a flight to Vegas instead (Susie, I hope you didn’t have your hopes set on that one!). But now that I’m here, it’s not too strange.

All of my flights were very smooth and perfectly punctual, which eased my traveler’s anxiety some (with great apologies to all those who have had the misfortune to travel with me). My only real complaint is the lack of adequate sinage in the Sheremetyevo airport—I searched all over the damn place until I saw the tiny 8½ x 11 sheet that told me how to get from Sheremetyevo 2 to Sheremetyevo 1. I did finally make my way there, though slightly irked and with tired arms. Alas, alas…

I have to admit, I was very surprised at the speed with which I was able to get through passport control and customs in Moscow. It was worse coming back from San Jose than it was here, at least in terms of time spent waiting and wandering.

I was met in Krasnodar by my host contact, Anatoliy, and a very sweet girl named Katya who recently graduated from the Institute and now teaches there. She is my age and has been assigned to be my guide in the town. Everyone is very nice and incredibly helpful. They drove me from Krasnodar to Slavyansk-Na-Kubani and told me about themselves, the town, and the Institute (speaking primarily in English because of the awful state of my Russian compounded by my lack of sleep and consequent lack of normal brain function). If our brief meeting tonight was any indication of what my experience will be here in the coming weeks and months, I think things will go very well. The Institute, from what they told me, sounds like a great place for English learners and teachers, and the town, though small, seems to have a lot going on. In the next few weeks there will be at least two festivals, one for the town and one for the institute, so that should be a neat way to get oriented here.

It’s kind of ridiculous how much my Russian langauge skills have deteriorated from lack of use in the past three months. It’s my own fault for not studying as much as I should have, but I don’t regret actually enjoying my summer, my last few weeks before going away for months, with those closest to me. Sure, I’ve spoken more Spanish than Russian in the past month, but hey. I’ll work on it. I’ll have to.
And of course, now that I’m actually in my own bedroom sitting on a nice, comfy bed, I don’t think I can sleep. What luck!

9-1-2009
(Written on the morning of September 1st: I am still without internet in my dorm—увы!—so I’ll post this when I have better access)

The lack of internet is my only real complaint so far. I haven’t had much time to get to the main campus to send emails back home, and I certainly can’t use Skype or anything there because of the disturbance to other people, not to mention the time difference, so I’m going to see if there is any way I can get some sort of personal internet access in my dorm room, via phone or usb or anything. I think that homesickness would be less of an issue if I could talk to people, let alone contact them on a regular basis. I’ll work on it.

From Russia With Love communication troubles aside, I think that the settling in process is going as well as could be hoped for. I’ve been very lucky, I think, insofar as I have an extremely kind and helpful guide in Katya and a very useful resource in Anatoliy Andreevich. They have answered all of the questions that have come up so far, have begun to introduce me to the town and to the community at Slavyansk State Pedagogical Institute, where we will be working together, and have even started showing me around the area more generally. Suffice to say, it’s been a busy couple of days.

Friday was a day of settling in and getting organized. After breakfast, a tour of a local primary school, and a walk through the town, Anatoliy Andreevich and Katya took me to the main campus, where I saw the library and the principal building and began the process of getting registered in town. Katya and I then dropped off the registration papers in town, where the rather jolly and enthusiastic registration officers seemed to really enjoy joking around with the token American. I have to say, it’s kind of fun being the only American around for miles (er, kilometers). We were told at orientation that a lot of people would be very curious about visiting Americans, because they don’t get very many (if any) and would have tons of questions, and it’s turned out to be very true. I don’t know, though, if I’m actually as interesting and exciting as everyone seems to think (or hope)… but, you know, no pressure.

Anyway, as Katya said to me that day, it was a day of waiting in lines. We waited for my papers at the institute, again at the registration office, and then at the store where I bought a cell phone. After that, we went back to her apartment where I met her roommate and drank tea, an activity that I think I’m already getting used to (I’ve never been a tea-drinker, but that is going to have to change this year—I tried to say “no thank you” once and got so many horrified looks that I think I’ll just t have to say yes from now on). The next day, we visited the building used by the Faculty of International Languages (English and German), where I got to meet the men and women who will be my colleagues this year. They all seem to be wonderfully nice people, and I’m looking forward to working with them. The only slight issue is language—they are worried about speaking English with me and I am worried about speaking Russian with them, which is silly on both sides (mostly mine, admittedly, since I do have to speak Russian to, you know, live here), but is hard to overcome. I’m working on building up my courage.

After a meeting, we celebrated the birthday of one of the women on the faculty, and I got my first taste of a Russian celebration, complete with wine, tea, and toasts. It was a pleasant way to get to know everybody.

I got home that evening and, after unpacking, promptly fell asleep at 5pm. Earlier that day, I had been so proud of myself for beating jet lag, but it seems that I was just lying to myself. Oh dear.

It was good that I got a lot of sleep that night, however, because Sunday turned out to be a very long day. When A. A. and Katya picked me up from the airport on Thursday, the fact that I study classic Russian literature—including, for example, Lermontov—came up. A.A. mentioned that in a town not too far away (by Russian standards—it was maybe two hours away) called Taman’, there is a Lermontov museum. So on Sunday, we all piled into the Lada and headed out to see the Lermontov museum and the nearby attractions in and around Taman’. Taman’, it turns out, is on the Black Sea—in fact, the Lermontov museum overlooks it. It was quite beautiful. In Taman’, which, it turns out, is a very old city that had been inhabited by the ancient Greeks and Romans, we also visited an archaeological museum. Taman’ is also a rich agricultural center (A.A. said that there are three seas in the area—The Black Sea, the Azov Sea, and the Wine Sea, poking fun at all the vineyards in the area)—that is, the entire region is a rich agricultural center (the “California of Russia”), but this town in particular is known for its wine. So, of course, we went wine tasting, followed by lunch at a restaurant overlooking the sea.

After lunch, we drove to the Azov Sea, to visit a volcano there. On the way, I got to see a lot of the Kuban region, including, as A.A. pointed out to me, the beginning of the Caucuses, which was quite exciting. We soon arrived at our second seaside of the day, where Katya pointed out something very interesting—all along the shore, there were people walking around covered, and I mean completely covered, head to toe, in mud. I was watching, curious, when A.A. told me to put on my bathing suit (we had all brought our bathing suits) and to follow him. I did, and where did we end up? In the volcano’s mud pit.

Now, anyone who knows me knows that I hate to be dirty. The idea of a mud bath creeps me out. And here I was, standing in front of a lake of mud, where everyone from children to old men was swimming and laughing, and I was expected to get in (apparently, it’s good for the skin). Well, I thought, I am here for the cultural experience… I compromised and went in up to my knees, but when I started to get splashed on by passing bathers, it got a little too muddy for me, and I got out. One thing did strike me though, in the children there—one little boy was happily splashing about, gleefully covered in mud. Meanwhile, a little girl was slipping along the muddy platform that surrounded the pool, crying and trying not to fall and not to get muddy. I definitely recognized myself in that second kid and my sister in the first. It was funny.

Well, we did take a dip in the Azov Sea to wash off after that, which was nice. The water was very calm and very warm—it made me think of a warm Lake Michigan (of course, Lake Michigan is never really warm). Finally, we drove home, stopping on the way once to buy some fresh fruit from the side of the road and once to try some Tamanskii Kvass. It certainly was a day of Russian experiences and excursions. I came home exhausted, but very happy to have seen and done everything that I saw and did that day.

Yesterday, we had another faculty meeting in the main assembly hall, after which I had lunch and tea with some of Katya’s friends/colleagues. I have to say, I think that the experience of just sitting around a table talking with people has been the best for my language practice so far, as well as my confidence. There’s a lot of pressure in a shop or an office, say, to come up with the right word and the right construction fast, but in a more relaxed atmosphere with people who understand that this is not my first language and that it can be difficult, it’s much nicer, and I even think I can understand more when I am relaxed than when I’m trying so hard. I hope I’ll have more opportunities like this in the first few weeks and months I’m here, while I’m still really trying to learn as much as I can as quickly as I can.

Today is September 1st, the official first day of classes in Russia. I still am not entirely sure what I will be teaching, but I’m sure that I will know soon enough. Today, however, I think will be another day of errands as I finish registering and maybe finding a few more things I need to be settled here. I have to say, even though I don’t yet feel like I’m “at home,” I do think I have a pretty nice home base set up here, and once I get a chance to talk to the people I miss back home, I think I’ll be quite happy.