last day of school...

Yesterday we took 6 final exams. Of course, this means that we are in class today, learning new material.

After our 4.5 hours of tests, we had to pretty ourselves up for our "graduation evening." There were speeches from the rector and administrators, we each got a certificate and a DVD (created by our paparazzi). Then there was a buffet dinner with a lot of wine. I ate so much watermelon (Astrakhan' is famous for its watermelon), that one of the servers brought an entire platter to my table!

We danced to Russian pop and had a good time together. The evil L.G. danced with Tiffany. I expected the floor to open up and us fall into the Pit at any second. It was an odd moment.

The Troika peaced out at 8:30. Laura wanted ice cream, so we walked to two stores and strolled along the street while Sara and Laura ate the ice cream they had bought. It took us and hour and a half to get home after we left! No marshrutkas were running after 8:30 on a Thursday night. We had to take one from school to Laura's stop (she lives at a major stop) and then wait 30 minutes for a marshrutka going to our stops with standing room on it. But I made it home shortly after 10 PM.

We received some of our grades today. I have apparently improved not at all in grammar (I've made almost the same grade on every one of our tests). I tried to convince my grammar teacher, Maria Leonidovna, to let me start a fire with our grammar tests...she didn't go for it.

Wednesday was our last lecture (Славо Богу!!!), and so after lunch we are receiving our final grades, our final stipend (which I have a feeling will be mostly going to pay for overweight luggage), and information about our trip to the baza this weekend. I hope it's half-way civilized, or at least moreso than the last baza I went to. A Baza is a Soviet campground.

After school today, we plan to go drink tea and eat tasty sweets at the Sharlau. Sara wants to buy a book we found in an old bookstore for her thesis research. If the antique store is open, I would like to poke around some more.

I've been reading my Bible! I started the 6th of July, and as of this morning, I have less than 100 pages left (5 chapters of 2 Kings, 1 Chronicles, 2 Chronicles, Ecclesiastes, and Song of Songs). I read it out of order, in chunks. I started with Isaiah and Revelation, and I think I will finish with Ecclesiastes. I should finish before we leave Astrakhan. I feel very proud of myself, and the Bible is interesting.

I have no idea what my internet access is going to be like after today. I hope I will be able to post at least once more from Astrakhan' (next week) and maybe once from Petersburg. Until then, I love and miss all of you.

--Shelley

No real news.

It's hard to come up with something intelligent and clever to say. This is the last week of classes, and I am increasingly focused on my countdown of days to my liberation from Astrakhan.

Also, our Writing test today completely drained my brain power. We had to remember the forms for official requests, complaints, and formal excuses and thank-you notes. Ugh. I also had to write a resume for homework. Apparently the Russian word "fantastichni" just means invented, not fantastical. I wrote a Superhero resume. Oh well. I hope Ludmila Anatoliivna enjoys it. Maybe she'll give me bonus points for creativity...or just take pity on the dumb American.

Saturday, the Troika and a few others...Maria, Christine, and Jennifer, headed to the center of town to bum around and waste our precious free time. We found a couple of really cool stores, and I managed to spend my entire stipend on presents (for friends, family, and myself). I love church stores in Russia. I pretty much love all Orthodox jewelry...ornate and gorgeous.

I am currently under a book ban. We are only allowed 20 kilos of luggage for domestic flights in Russia (all checked luggage). My books purchased here in Russia weigh 10 kilos. Plus I have a kilo of tea. I'm really praying to the nice-ticket-agent fairy.

Sunday I spent 3 hours and the Sharlau and did literally nothing else (I half-way did my homework, which is an accomplishment for me on this trip).

The major flaw of our program in general is that we spend way too much time together as a giant group of Americans. We are all starting to get on each others' nerves. Some more than others.

Tomorrow is a scheduled trip to a sanatoria (the Russian version of a spa). I am not going. I will instead enjoy a fabulously rare half-day...at the Sharlau.

Love you all...I need ideas to write about!!!!

--shelley

Religion part 2

Kalmykia (the autonomous republic of the Russian Federation that we went to on Saturday) is a dominantly Buddhist state. Located in the capital, Elestia, is the largest Buddhist temple in Europe, which also houses the largest statue of Buddha in Europe. The Kalmyks are Lamaist (?) Buddhists, (like Tibet) so their leader is the Dalai Lama, and a residence for him is on one of the upper floors not accessible by the public. The outside of the temple is plain and simply decorated in comparison to the interior.

We also had to take of our shoes for this excursion, and apparently the girls were supposed to be wearing at least a knee-length garment. Of course no one informed us of this. There were shawls provided at the temple, but they ran out of them by the time the line got to me...so I was wandering around in my shorts. Also not told to us (or imperfectly understood) were 2 rules about behavior in the temple: (1) always walk in a clockwise direction, (2) never turn your back on the Buddha. I am afraid I broke both. Oh well, ignorant American here.

The Buddha was giant (and gold-leafed) and robed in yellow. He was an Indian-style Buddha (not the fat, laughing Chinese version) and sat in the lotus position. Arrayed around him was an army of tiny golden Buddhas. Sara was creeped out by them. There was an altar for food offerings, and we could hear chanting in the background (I think it was a CD). All of the walls were painted with intricate scenes from the life of the Buddha. On the second floor was a mural with multiple Buddhas and elephants...I didn't understand that one.

In the basement was a conference center and a musuem of Buddhism in Russia. It was pretty interesting...I didn't spend too much time in it.

We also went to a market, and to the Lenin Square, where there was a prayer wheel and a giant chess set. Every Russian city has a central square named for Lenin. If you want to find the downtown of any city, just ask where the Lenin Square is...never fails.

Sunday, the girls and I (also known as Laura and Sara--my Troika, Russian for "triumvirate") went to the center in search of Fisherman's Day. We didn't find it, but we had a good time looking for it. We meet up at about 2:30, headed to our favorite cafe, the Sharlau, and then wandered around the downtown looking for an cafe with wireless internet. We managed to find it, and the one souvenir shop in Astrakhan'...so it was a good day. Then we ate ice cream while sitting on a bench Russian-watching and waiting for a mythical (i.e. never occured) jazz festival.

On Monday we learned that Fisherman's Day did not occur because EVERY location in the city where festivities normal take place WAS UNDER REPAIR. How, in a city of 500,000 every major park and walking path is closed I will never understand. 3 weeks ago the shaded path away from the university was jackhammered and then left to decay.

I was really proud of myself on Monday. We were sitting in our worst class, Lecture. The topic for the day was "Tolerance." Yes, tolerance. You need to understand that Russian does not have a word for tolerance...our hated Lidia Glebovna made one up from the English cognate. The closest approximation in Russian is "toleration." This then proceeded into a discussion on Immigration. Yes, the naive Russians put 22 Americans in a room together in discussion groups and demanded that we talk about such a controversial issue in BROKEN RUSSIAN. We can't agree or have a civil discussion in English...so now we are going to talk about complex issues like nationalities, immigration, and tolerance? Ugh.

Anyway, we told to pretend that we were the directors of a "Tolerance Center" and to solve the world's problems in 5 minutes. I wish I were making this stuff up. Lidia Glebovna came to our group and demanded an answer (of course, we hadn't been talking about this BS...), so I told her (in Russian) that we had no answer, in fact we hadn't been discussing that and instead had a more interesting discussion. Then I told her that such strongly structured lectures/discussions were impossible, that we had our own questions and wanted to discuss those. This made me feel much better.

Tuesday we went to the major mosque here in Astrakhan'. Like the first mosque, it was fairly plain on the inside, but it there were pretty stained glass windows and the columns holding up the balcony (the women's section) were ornately carved and gold-leafed. They were very pretty.

We met the imam of that mosque, the director of the Islamic school here in Astrakhan', and a very interesting Muslim scientist from Egypt, who spoke to us in a mixture of English and Russian. Afterwards, we were invited into a Tatar (an ethnic group in Russia, primarily Muslim) home and had a delicious tea. The imam said a prayer and sang (a hymn? a prayer?) in Arabic. That probably took 15-20 minutes. It was very interesting but uncomfortable at the same time. There was honey cake, cookies, and a lemon tart. The imam was a very nice man, and talked to us about our impressions of Astrakhan' and Russia.

The whole time we were in the mosque or in the presence of the imam, the females of our group had our heads covered (a complete covering of the hair). It was so hot! When the imam left, our hostess told us (several times) that we could now "uncover"...but we were taking pictures, so it took a while.

It was an odd experience. I felt almost like a different person with my hair completely covered. I don't really know how to explain it, but I had this feeling when I began visiting Orthodox churches and using a head covering (but not as strong...and of course, the Orthodox aren't as strict!). The Muslims in Astrakhan' are fairly secular as a whole, but that doesn't mean there are no women in full dress...hijab and gown...but I haven't seen a burka or face veil.

I've never lived anywhere where the faiths are so integrated. No one faith seems to keep completely to itself. It's a great experience. I don't know if this would be possible with strong fundamentalism of any of the major faiths here. (Although my ignorance of Buddhism keeps me from knowing if there is a fundamentalist sect of Buddhism.)

Of course, after the tea, our troika went to the Sharlau. I had the Russian version of sweet iced tea. There wasn't a lot of tea involved, and it was too sweet even for me! (a native Southerner.)

Today we are going to another house-museum. This one is of a Silver-Age (1905-1920s) Futurist poet, Khlebnikov. I hope it's interesting! We have been forced to read his poems for the past 2 weeks. He liked to play with language and make up words, which is cool and fun in my native language (think Carroll, Dr. Suess, or e e cummings) but not so fun in a language where I have no idea that half of the words in this given poem don't actually exist.

Buddhism, Islam, and Orthodoxy

The theme of this past week has been religion, in primarily a good way.

Last week there was an optional excursion to the churches and cathedrals of Astrakhan'...of course I went, since Orthodox churches are beautiful. Awe-inspiring is probably the best term. I love the smell of the incense used in Orthodox churches--it's just yummy, and makes me think of ancient things.

I managed to take one picture of the iconostasis inside one of the churches. I didn't know whether we were allowed to take pictures, but I saw someone else do so...and then got yelled at by the resident babushka-in-charge. But the picture is on my photobucket!

We also went to a mosque and a Catholic church. The Catholic church here in Astrakhan' is maintained by Polish monks and priests. I am so used to not understanding the Church Slavonic in Orthodox churches that I didn't realize the priest in the Catholic church wasn't speaking Russian! The service was in Polish. Slavic languages sound similar anyways.

The mosque was very plain and small...I think it is also under repair. We had to take off our shoes. Our guide told us that it isn't being used as a mosque right now, and so we didn't have to cover our heads. I did so anyway, because I already felt bad about wearing short sleeves and a knee-length dress. The Russians don't understand that we would like to be informed ahead of time about such things. I consider it an issue of respect...and so I cover my head in Orthodox churches also. Russians. (We asked 10 times whether or not this excursion would include a mosque...we kept being told "no").

Today we are supposed to go on a tour of mosques in Astrakhan' and eat Tatar national dishes. Hopefully this will be interesting...I'll be sure to tell you as soon as possible.

I am afraid my pictures don't do all these houses of worship justice. Almost all of them are being restored, as Communism was not kind to any religion. The largest church in Astrakhan (Orthodox) was the city bus depot during the Soviet Union. The beautiful cathedral inside the Astrakhan' kremlin (the fortress in the center dating from ancient times) was a soldier's barracks and an officiers' residence. The lucky churches in the USSR were archives, while others were obliterated, or had their gorgeous (and 800 years old) frescoes whitewashed.

Kalmykia was beautiful. It was a four-hour drive through the empty steppe. We saw one person...a Russian cowboy with his herd of cattle (which held up our bus as they crossed the road). After an hour and a half we stopped at a WWII monument to one of the Red Armies (maybe the 22nd?) that had a toilet (one for each sex).

I am afraid I am leaving all of you under a strong misunderstanding. In Russia "toilet" does not mean "with plumbing" or "with porcelein."In fact, it is far more likely to be an outhouse. I don't think I saw working plumbing the entire day...and I was in 3 different toilets. The 2nd to last toilet of the day almost broke our group...the smell was simply indescribable.

Sorry that this list continues on top of my post yesterday...just scroll down and read that one before this one, okay?

10) No smiling in public. No smiling by yourself...ever. No smiling while on the telephone. Generally, no smiling. In Russia, if you are smiling without an explicit reason to be doing so (that everyone else can see), they literally think that you are insane or retarded. The flip side of this rule is that Russians love to laugh and make jokes. Weird.

11) Gratuitous sex scenes (TV and movies). I thought I was fairly used to sex scenes from American movies, but Russian TV, miniseries, and movies always have unnecessary sex scenes in no way related to the plot. One day, I flipped through the 6 channels that we get here in Astrakhan', and on every channel was a sex scene...generally unwilling or coerced in some way. I'm not going to get into what that says about Russian culture and its view of sex.

12) Soviet Apartments and NO real beds. Soviet-style apartments were not designed for comfortable living. Almost all of them were built during some urgent housing crisis, and so they were built quickly and with little to no thought about Russian culture. For example, the kitchen is always the smallest room in the apartment (I really do think that the bathroom is bigger...). Everything is hideously ugly (so family's generally quickly remodel their apartments or try to pretty them up as soon as they have any amount of spare cash). There are no lights in the stairwells, and the lightbulbs in the halls have to be provided by the tenants. I think I have already mentioned that I sleep on a (cat-shaped) loveseat that converts into a bed. My last host family, in Tagarog, owned one recognizable mattress.

13) It is forbidden by Russian cultural mores to sit on the ground (especially if you are female). The ground, and even the floors of homes, is considered perpetually unclean. I guess sitting on an unclean surface also makes the person unclean (and morally so for females). Russians don't sit on grass, either...or concrete. Matthew calls the preferred male position "the third-world squat." It looks terribly uncomfortable, but they have been trained since birth to sit on their haunches in a back-stooping squat.

14) The ridiculous cheapness of food, beer, and cigarettes, and the outrageous price of any manufactured good. Beer is literally cheaper than water, and while public drinking is technically illegal in Russia, the police never bother to stop anybody. (Unless you are in an important central square or park...maybe then they will stop people for bribes.)

15) РЕМОНТ (the Russian word for "repair, remodeling, etc"). Right now the entire city of Astrakhan' seems to be in some stage of demolition through reconstruction. August is the 450th anniversary of the city...and they seemed determined to do ALL of the much-needed remodel from Soviet days now, in the two months that we are in the city.

16) Aeroflot, the Soviet national airline...that is still in business. All of their planes are at least 40 years old (with their original unsmiling Soviet stewardesses) and the pilots act like they are state-of-the-art military jets...or at least take off like they are. Aeroflot. ugh.

17) Delicious deserts and blini (my favorite food...a crepe-like creation that far surpasses anything the French could ever hope to accomplish). The Russians love sweets, and in my opinion, do chocolate better than the Swiss or Belgians. It's never too sweet...and always perfect. Baked goods...bread...thank goodness lunch is soon. In this group...Russian tea. Tea in Russia is just too good to describe.

Anyway, tomorrow we are going to a Buddist city about 4 hours away. I think I have heard it called the "Chess capital of the World." Should be interesting.

And Sunday is an Astrakhan' holiday: Day of Fishermen. We'll see how that goes.

Love you and miss you, Shelley

Awesomeness...

I am loving Russia right now...and I think is mostly because we found the best tea/coffeehouse in the entire world. (and the blini aren't bad, either...) It's called the Sharlau, and it is in downtown Astrakhan', 2 blocks from the Kreml' and Bratski Sad.

I spent most of my stipend at the рынок (market?) on Saturday. Laura, Sara, and I met early to go to the large ярмок (farmer's market?) that occurs by the school on Fridays and Saturdays. We ended up going to three markets before noon. Then we went back to the Sharlau for lunch and tea. I've been to the Sharlau 3 times in 3 days. It is awesome.

Since nothing of real importance occured over the weekend...I have compiled a list of Russian things (mostly cultural) that are very different from the US. If I have time, I'll try to expand on some of them.

1) the bluntness/non-PC nature of the Russian language. Imagine American culture of the 50s and 60s, only with 24-hour club clothing. In Russia, a special-needs child is a "defective" and his teacher is a "pedalog-defective"--literally a teacher of defectives. There are many other examples of this in Russian speech. In this catagory I will also place being told to my face how bad my Russian is.

2) The fact that it has taken me 3 days to write this post. The internet does not exist in Russia (or at least, it is not important).

3)My favorite, marshrutkas and the crazy things that regularly happen while riding them.

4) Hating to make or give change. I don't know how Russia will ever develop a flourishing capitalistic economy if the cashiers refuse to make change. C'mon, we all have thousand-ruble notes (it's what the ATMS give out), there's nothing we can do about it. I know you have an entire drawer full of change..."NO, I do not have exact change." "No, I do not have a smaller bill" (generally a lie).

5) Russian female clothing. Really...I know the clubs aren't open 24 hours a day. There is no reason to dress like your destination is a club at 8:30 in the morning. Also, there seems to be no societal ban on being able to view underwear (male and female). I have no idea how many thongs I have seen through white pants... White, skin-tight pants, seriously.

6) Dubbing and over-dubbing. This is more a European phenomenon than a uniquely Russian one. I cannot stand over-dubbing. Because someone feels the need to make my life as a non-native speaker just that much more difficult. Plus, it's annoying. Dubbing isn't too terrible anymore, but I am still 100% in support of subtitles. What's the point of watching a dubbed movie? Russians also hate subtitles in general...and almost never include them on any DVD. ugh.

7) The rarity of street signs, and when they do exist, the horrendous quality of them. Its hard enough to navigate Russia, but the country seems to assume its citizens and visitors possess a psychic ability to identify streets. Even in Petersburg this is difficult. As a result, independent movement about a city is curtailed and made far more difficult. I will also include here the fact that public transportation pretty much shuts down at 9 PM. --private transportation almost doesn't exist.

8) Homeless cats and dogs. So many mangy dogs (and puppies).

9) Whiny Americans. This isn't America. Get over it. Suck it up or go home (and please, never leave the country again).

I will continue this list soon.

Independence Day!!!!

Sorry it's been so long since my last post...they have kept us on our toes here at Astrakhan' State U (and without internet time!).

Tuesday we took our midterm exams...they were ridiculously easy, and had nothing at all to do with the courses that we have actually been taking while in Russia. Our writing test was a letter to the detested Lidia Glebovna. Letter-writing is at the conversational register of a language...I want, and need, to learn to write at a higher, more educated level. Like with participles and such. This was the only day we actually had time alloted for internet time , but since I had written the day before--you received no lovely post from me. (nothing interesting had occurred, anyway.)

Sara and I went home early. We were fortunate enough to be in a marshrutka before the heavens opened upon us...but, of course, our luck with marshrutkis held, and it leaked on us the whole way home (in more than one spot. There was nowhere safe to sit.

Wednesday we were denied internet in order to visit the "state capital building" of the Astrakhan' oblast'. I suppose it was interesting. There were speeches that no one understood for nigh onto 2 hours. Afterwards, we were led on a tour of the building. The real fun started then, as we were given permission to take photos and sit wherever we wanted. Thus 22 American students role-played and pretended through the halls of Astrakhan' state government. I ask you to envision, please, 22 foreign students doing so in the loftiest, most sacrosanct chambers of YOUR state government. Notice the contrast. Pictures are available on the photobucket account.

I have seen a Truman in Astrakhan'! Truman, for those who don't know, is my Siamese-mix kitty. He is currently living with Mommy in SC, and I miss him very much. Anyhoo, the Siamese cat I saw in Astrakhan' was hanging out around the governor's house downtown. I took photos, and everyone thought I was crazy to be taking pictures of a cat.

Yesterday was fun. As I noted in my required journal for the program (translated, of course, into English) "No difficult classes, no lecture, an interesting session of translation study, a non-boring museum, a very tasty tea, and later, a stupid film."

Yes, we went to see Wanted, "Особо опасен" ("Especially Dangerous" in Russian). This has got to be the stupidest, most abusurd movie ever made. Nothing I have ever seen comes close...nothing. Of course, watching any movie in another (non-fluent) language makes the suspension of disbelief far more difficult, but there was not enough plot in this movie for translation to tinker with. However, I will likely see it again when I return, as the special effects were amazing. (but really, a dumpster full of peanut butter/TNT-fed rats? was that necessary?) However, I must admit that I had no interest in seeing the movie until I caught a preview here in Astrakhan' and saw Jame McAvoy hit someone across the face with a computer keyboard (c'mon...you know you have had ONE of those days...).

Before the movie, we went to the house-musuem (really popular in Russia, house-museums) of a famous artist from Astrakhan', Kustodiev. Of course, all of his most famous works are in museums in St. Petersburg and Moscow, but not to worry, the musuem in Astrakhan' has reproductions of them! And by reproductions, I mean printed off a computer, glued together, and framed.

However, this museum threw one heck of a tea-party, and for that may they forever be blessed with gratuitous government funding. There were sweets without end. So delicious! I was a little piggy and ate 2 bulichki (sweet poppy-seed rolls) and stole many chocolates made by Red October (the best--every wrapper is a famous work of Russian art). Sara and I had our picture taken at the cut-out of the most famous artwork by Kustodiev "Tea-drinking." I, of course, was the cat. Sara was the slightly overweight Russian grande dame.

Today is the Fourth of July. Sorry to report no fireworks here in Russia, but we have been fed cakes and candies all day. We had two (3) tests today: a vocab quiz from a list of 57 words (we had to write 15 sentences using selected words), a rather substantial test in Writing (an official request, two notices, an official complaint, a thank-you note), also there was an unofficial numbers drill. We will be getting number drills every day from now on, which is great and something that I desperately need.

We briefly explained American history and the holiday of Independence day to our grammar teacher. I think she is now very confused, as we started with the Declaration of Independence, covered the Revolutionary War and the War of 1812, and then decided to jump back to the Boston Tea Party. Whatever, it was fun. Our writing instructor brought gourmet chocolates and a mini-American flag to class. At lunch, we were served a special cake in addition to desert.

And now we have the rest of the day off! We were going to go to the beach, but it rained torrentially. After this post, a group of us are going to a cafe. There are murmurs of a party at Tim's (our counselor if this were summer camp for high schoolers, which isn't far off some of the time) this evening. This event might be occuring too late for marshrutka travel, and so I don't know yet if I am going to go, although I probably should so as not to be completely alienated.

VERY QUICK NOTE (everyone else is waiting on me to finish):
I have read all of the comments, and appreciate them so much. I know I haven't answered many questions, but promise to do so very soon (next week)...cross my heart.

Love, Shelley

Allison: There is no possible way that anything you sent me could get here in time. Send it to my mommy's.--I'll email you the address.

Feeling Better...

but I think it has more to do with the fact the moshki (little gnat-bugs that ate me alive) have now all died.

Saturday, during the most boring excursion that I believe has ever occured in the history of the world, I decided to become a non-compliant patient. I threw my diet out the window. Eating kasha, bread, and potatoes every day all day is NOT fun. I refuse to believe I have a food allergy, and rebelled against my doctors and the program directors. I ate two ice cream cones on Saturday. They were delicious.

My actions have been supported by an improvement in my condition. I now have faith that eventually this mysterious ailment will depart, and I will once again appear my usual self, as opposed to the spotted circus freak of the preceeding weeks.

I still take all my medication: I just refuse to comply with this ridiculous diet.

But about our excursion to the FISHING MUSEUM...

As I predicted, hideously boring. The one blin' (crepe-like pancake) we were allowed was delicious. Tim almost had a panic attack when I told him I drank the honey-apple-cider mixture they gave us. (also delicious). Our lunch was provided by the museum, and was supposed to be Russian national dishes (plural). Instead we got ONE bowl of fish stew...which wasn't that great. No dessert or tea.

I can now report that I have been to the exact location of the filming of that 1905 classic film "The Fish Factory of Astrakhan.'" Suffice it to say that the location was as riveting as the film. There is a house-museum there, which was the residence of the director of the fish factory. It comprises 4 rooms, one of which is the obligatory Soviet memorial room. (In every museum in Russia there is at least one room devoted to glorifying the Soviet Union.)

As usual, we gathered at the university at 8:45 (so early!) in the morning. We didn't get on the bus until 30 minutes later because our beloved stragglers were trickling in (I guess they had a rough night). We then left for the delta (I guess that is where we went...I honestly have no clue where in the Astrakhan' oblast we were on Saturday). About 45 minutes into the ride. the bus stops on the side of the highway by a dirt road.

We are informed that we are expected to get out of the bus and walk down this road, where something interesting awaits. I am not kidding.

We pile out of the bus (none of us having been informed of a possible need for unimportant things like water, bug repellent, or sunscreen) and begin the trek. We walk down this dirt road for a while, and then are confronted by a high hill and a small dirt path STRAIGHT up the hill. We are informed that the cross at the top of the hill is our destination, and that we can either take the direct path, or walk an unknown distance up the road. The boys opt for the path, and make their way through the Russian weeds to it. Peer pressure being what it is, soon all of us followed.

The best part of the whole day was watching the Russian girls (our paparazzi) hike that path in their high heels. It was wonderful to watch.

We hike to the top of the hill and see...nothing. Only a giant Orthodox cross that was visible from the road, and a lone grave. (somehow I mistranslated what the guide said...when I got off the bus I was under the impression that there was a church down the road.)

Sara and Ross kept saying how at home they felt...apparently the Russian landscape around Astrakhan' looks (and smells) remarkably like West Texas. (a lot of cows...and cow patties to dodge while walking in the middle of nowhere.) This took over an hour.

I was heard to say, upon return to the bus, that the next time I was presented a Russian dirt road to walk down I would emphatically decline.

The second time this happened...we were promised something interesting once again. This time, though, the Americans weren't buying it. They had to repeat themselve several times (and Tim finally had to force us) before we got off the bus.

We walked to an ancient pile of trash, which is now covered by dirt and weeds, and apparently serves the ecological purpose of separating the steppe and the swamps. Archeologists are interested in excavating the area, and our guide enthusiastically pointed out to us holes in the ground. I glanced around the top of the hill, and then walked back to the bus by myself. I was not going to get sunburnt in the middled-of-nowhere Russia...on top of my mysterious skin rash. I doubt that would be fun.

We returned to school at 5 PM. Sara, Laura, David, and I went to the cafe not far from our school. I ate blinichki and plov (a baked rice, veggies, and meat dish...yummy), and was happy.

Sunday, I slept in and then did a load of laundry (this time I made sure to wash them in hot water...just in case...and iron them after they got off the line).

That afternoon we went to the movies by ourselves--Sara, Laura, and myself. It only took us 3 marshrutkas to get to the theater (we got on the right marshrutka going in the wrong direction...again), and 2 to get home. Russian movie theaters are fun. You actually have to choose your seats, and sit in the proper row and number. We ate ice cream cones during "Sex in the big city"--AKA "Sex in the City" in the US.

Sometimes when only after viewing a dubbed movie do I realize how truly American some movies (and concepts) are. "Sex in the City" is one of them. I myself am not entirely comfortable with the themes discussed in the show, and have never been a fan. I wouldn't say that I was opposed to the show, but it was on HBO, and so falls outside of the boundaries of regular TV programming. I wonder what the Russian audience was thinking. It was a little graffic for me, although I learned that "to have sex" in Russian is заниматься сексом (literally, to occupy/busy oneself with sex).

After the movie, I got home and did some homework (while being stared at by Vika, Natasha's 7-year old daughter before she was picked up by Natasha's friend who lives a floor above), before going to bed early.

Today we met with Iranian students who are here in Astrakhan' studying Russian. They seemed very nice and were interesting. It seemed like our group (3 Iranians, 5 Americans) had a really good discussion. They have invited us to join them on weekends hanging out in the center (downtown). Paymen (I think) and I agreed that Russians drink too much and it isn't very comfortable to have drunk people drinking on the streets. While I understand that, if the State Department ever finds out that we met with these Iranians, it will be much harder to get my security clearance for government work, it was a greally great opportunity to talk. Plus, Farsi looks totally cool written.

Tomorrow we have midterms. Ugh.

Love, Shelley

Awful Day

Yesterday was awful. I did not like the country of Russia--or the doctors, the teachers, the marshrutki drivers (pretty much everybody)--at all.

At 9:30 yesterday morning, I was in good spirits. I had high hopes that the dermatologist would be able to tell me what was wrong with my skin and provide a solution. Turns out, I was horribly naive. The trip to the polyclinic was uneventful (we only almost died twice), and I had to wait only a few minutes once we got there.

The dermatologist says I am having an allergic reaction. The three doctors I saw the day before say that I am not having an allergic reaction. Basically, I have been punted back to my original doctor (an allergy specialist). This is terrible. Surely there is some medicine that will have some effect. Any effect.

This time, Tim was kind enough to go ahead and by my medication for me (he bought double packages of everything--about 2 weeks worth of everything but the skin cream) so that I don't have to pay for it out of my stipend. He is going to try to get me reimbursed for the 600 rubles I've already spend on medication. My Dermovate is 150 rubles a tube, and it only lasts 2-3 days. (There's a lot of surface area that needs help.)

I'm back on the potato-and-bread diet, but now it is even more restrictive. I also have to take some mysterious powder three times a day in addition to the Zyrtec, the diazalene, and the Dermovate. This is perhaps the hardest cross of all to bear. I am not allowed to mix the powder into anything other than kefir (a disgusting liquid that could be a concoction of yogurt/sour milk/buttermilk...it's unidentifiable). I have to drink a half-cup of this stuff 3x a day, an hour before eating. It takes me twenty minutes to gag it down. I am contemplating starvation.

My list of allowed foods:
1. Beef
2. Beef buillion with boiled vegetables (no tomatoes)
3. Kefir
4. white, unsweetened bread
5. tvorog (farmer's cheese...and I am not allowed to sweeten it)
6. Kashi (grains) cooked in water (rice, buckwheat, and oatmeal)
7. Boiled potatoes
8. creamy butter, sunflower oil
9. fresh cucumbers
10. parsley, dill (I am amazed that this is its own category...oh, the Russian mindset)
11. Compote from the top of the pot (fresh fruit boiled in sugary water)
12. Tea with sugar (again, its own category)
13. Baked apples

Yep, folks, that is the sum total of what I am allowed to eat every day. This is enough to bring anyone down (even the most cheerful of people--which we all know is NOT me).

I was very down and depressed yesterday. I feel better today, but I am still not my usual, happily sarcastic self. It is much harder to be sarcastic in Russian. Natasha just doesn't understand when I try. I felt miserable at the doctor's, because they kept talking around me and I didn't understand what they were saying. At that point, I just wanted to go home. If there had been a way, I think I would have quit the program. I don't want to quit, but Russia is getting harder and harder, just because of my affliction, which doesn't hurt or itch, but attracts attention (both sympathetic and unwanted). Its hard to be alone here.

I got back to school in time for grammar class.

After lunch, we were supposed to choose between 2 groups of students to meet with (one from the mathematics department, the other from history). An additional group of journalism students was later added. As I have no interest in mathematics or the practice of journalism, but I really like history and Russian history in particular, I attempted to go to that meeting. Sara, Ross, and I wanted to go.

Lidia Glebnova, our very own Peter I (She is the embodiment of No-Choice-Russia --Tiffany's words, not mine, and only recognizes one way to do anything--her own), told us that we were not interested in history. I informed her that indeed, I was interested. She then told me that because my major was not history, I couldn't go to that meeting. Like my major of Russian Language and minor of Russian and Eurasian Studies has ANYTHING to do with journalism.

The coordinator of the program, John Bailyn (a linguistics professor at Stony Brook), is here in Astrakhan to see how we are progressing and whether any tweaking needs to be done. I am very happy he is here (although he makes me nervous because I have to constantly be aware of my Russian around him).

We met with him yesterday to discuss the program, and seem to have gotten some very effective changes made to our instruction methods (far less passive now, with more conversation and speaking practice) as well as to our entirely-too-long daily schedule. Our load for next week looks to be a lot lighter. Thank goodness.

Tomorrow we are going to the fishing museum...ugh. Lunch is supposed to be Russian National Dishes....none of which I can eat. And we have to meet at the university at 8:45 AM. But I hope it will be better.

I think my skin looks a little better today. I still don't think I have an allergy, but I just want it to go away. I am tired of looking like a freak.

Yesterday, I was a little fed up with Russia, and when John Bailyn asked if we liked lecture, I think I used the phrase "the illusion of choice that is Russia." This seems to have taken Tiffany's fancy. I am a little more inclined to tolerate the country today. Hopefully, this mood (and my skin) improves.

Love, Shelley

No News on the Home Front

Health:
I went to the doctor again today. This trip was even more fun than the previous foray into the mysteries of Russian health care. Today I had no fewer than 5 doctors look at me, and I was interrogated (via the translation efforts of Tim, our group leader) about the duration, appearance, etc.

However, they have now determined that I DO NOT have an allergy. (I bought a bar of chocolate as soon as I got back to school.) Tomorrow at 9:30 I am going to a dermatologist. In Russia, you have to make doctor appointments through other doctors. I saw a lot of people just waiting at the clinic today.

My cream seems to be doing its best, so I am going to keep using it. I have one Zyrtec left, so I'll probably take that tomorrow. I was given no instructions upon leaving the hospital today, so I guess I will just wing it as I see fit.

Classes:
They have changed two of our classes. Lecture is now a lecture series by a professor from the history department, A.O. Tyurin. He is very interesting, but they have unfortunately limited his lectures to topics about Astrakhan'. By the time we leave, I will be one of 22 experts in the world on the City of Astrakhan' in all of its tiniest details. Seriously, a change of pace from the topic of "Astrakhan'" would be greatly appreciated.

The addition of Choir didn't really change any other classes, but I am enjoying it greatly. I love to sing Russian songs...and the sadder they are, the better the song. This is not my opinion; it's fact. The choir leader is also our Phonetics instructor, so we have to sing everytime we see her. They try to vary the sad songs with happy ones, but these are generally so fast that my American tongue can't negotiate the sounds fast enough. I hope they give us the melodies before we leave. I will rock out singing my Russian dirges in the Jetta.

People:
For the most part, I really enjoy my fellow students here in Astrakhan'. There are still a few I haven't really hung out with, but I am okay with that. My group (Chamomile...seriously) is a great group of people, and I really enjoy spending time with them. Ross, Sara, Laura, and Jennifer are great fun, and will actually make an effort to adhere to the language pledge.

I need to be more diligent in my adherence to the pledge. I would say that, with other students, I am at 50%, and there are times that I say things in English that I could have said in Russian, with a little effort and disregard for perfection of grammar. There are somethings I just can't say, especially if I am in my "translate-from-English-thoughts" mode. More and more, I am using Russian words in my thoughts. Maybe in 5 weeks I will completely switch over. I hope so.

I can't say "black bread." That sentence was actually very hard to type. It is always "чёрный хлеб."

There are people on this trip who I have never heard try to speak Russian. More than a few have brushed aside comments (or when recounting adventures in bars) with "I can't speak Russian." This is incredibly annoying. When Tim delivers his weekly lecture about the pledge (which for our group--chamomiles--has become less harsh), he tells us that we have to be our own language police. I would rather be able to chose my own lunch table and sit with people I know will speak Russian.

Oh, I love how Drusia speaks Russian. She speaks very well, but she is from California. She inserts "like" into her Russian sentences. It is great, because I know my Russian teacher is wondering what the strange sound she is making is. Drusia says "like" everywhere you would expect it in an English sentence, but she is speaking Russian sentences. Drusia also speaks Italian, and I wonder if she does the same thing in that language.

David has the most awesome Russian accent. He and Ross get praised all the time in Phonetics. I do not. Poor Sara can't even fake a rolled 'r', and our phonetics teacher is forever making pitying noises at her. I think I can fake the Russian 'r' pretty well, but today we had to reproduce isolated hard and soft 'r's; it was very difficult. Today's phonetics lesson was all about hard and soft consonents--my jaw got very tired from the "smile" that supposedly helps you soften the consonents.

Another light day--but I have massive amounts of homework to do. I'll write again soon.

I do miss you all...and thanks so much for the comments, Facebook messages, and emails. It helps so much!

Love, Shelley

Loveliness

Today is a red-letter day; we are getting ages of free time, although the first group is doing 90 minutes of translation while the 2nd and 3rd groups get internet time. Poor them.

We went to Volgograd (formerly Stalingrad--the largest, bloodiest battle of WWII) on Saturday. The city was big and beautiful, with many monuments and memorials to the soldiers. Pictures are up on the Photobucket. (Speaking of pictures, I now have almost 2G of them on my flash card...and it's only week 3!)

We rode the train overnight to and from the city (we left Friday at 9 PM and returned Sunday at 6 AM). I had never been on a train before, much less a Russian train. It was an interesting experience, but surprisingly comfortable. I was quite fortunate in my choice of coupe: we were gluttons rather than drunkards. (There are only two options to pass the time on a train--eat or get drunk.) I was with Maria, Sara, and Ross (2 of the 3 have blogs linked to mine). It was quite fun.

I would say that the majority of our group opted for the drunkeness option, which was pretty annoying after midnight. Vodka is forbidden (and illegal) on Russian trains, but almost everyone ignores the rule. Sara tells me that she has seen excessively rowdy drunk passengers ejected from the train.

I slept very well on the train. Everything you hear about the motion being soothing is true. I slept off and on the first night (I woke up for every stop), and then slept through Saturday night.

Poor Ross had his wallet stolen on the marshrutka on our way home from school on Friday. He was quite distraught, as we had just received our stipend (all 1500 rubles of it) and his bank and credit cards were in it.

I loved the weather in Volgograd on Saturday. It was cool and drizzly, with a breeze. Such a nice change of pace from the melting heat of the past 2 weeks. Even though we had a bus, we walked for ages and ages on different excursions.

We arrived at 9 AM, ate breakfast at a cafe (it was the lunch menu--but Lyuba pointed out the blinichki with tvorog. They are rolled crepe-like pancakes with sweetened farmer's cheese...so yummy...and in my diet), and then got on the bus. We walked the boardwalk and up the memorial park/lane to the central square of Volgograd (a giant circle back to the train station), an then went to the base of the memorial park on the highest hill in the city. Volgograd is home to a giant sculpture, Mother of the Motherland, which is taller than the Statute of Liberty. In order to get to the statue (you have to walk--no handicapped options here), you proceed through staircase after staircase, memorial square after memorial square, so on and so forth, until you arrive at a memorial pantheon (the Stalingrad version of the Vietnam memorial). From there you proceed up the slope to the monument. We basically climbed the highest hill in the area. Great views of the city.

After visiting the church at the statute, where I purchased an Orthodox ring (it says "save and protect me" in Church Slavonic), we walked a short way to the parking lot and got on the bus, in which we re-circled the downtown on our way to the museum. We were scheduled to eat lunch at Cafe Old Stalingrad. The atmosphere was awesome, but the food was terrible. Drusia had to scrounge black bread from another table (I'm not allowed to eat white), and I couldn't drink my grape juice (also not allowed)...and had to pay 35 rubles for apple juice. But it had ice and a straw in it. This utterly amazed David (he drank my grape juice). The restaurant served us LIVER and mashed potatoes for lunch. Ugh. I couldn't even cut mine. David was the only one at the table to finish his. Amazing.

After lunch we went to the war museum. There was a flat fee to take pictures, but my batteries were dying and I didn't feel like paying $2. On the 3rd/4th floor of the musuem--of course no elevators--was a huge panorama of the battle. It was amazing...the muraled wall blended perfectly with the floor's 3-D trenches and other residue of battle. The guide pointed out in the mural the still-standing, shelled factory next to the musuem we were currently in. I am really happy we got to see the panorama...although by this time I was thoroughly sick of staircases.

The musuem also has the sniper rifle of Zaitsev, the most famous soldier of the battle of Stalingrad, and subject of the movie The Enemy at the Gates (Jude Law's character, I think).

After the musuem, we proceeded to the Planetarium, where we climbed yet another set of stairs. I can't tell you much more than that, because I slept for the entire presentation. The seats were not very comfortable.

After the planetarium, we went back to the same cafe we breakfasted in. I have now been to the Cafe Limon 3 times, and in Volgograd twice. The same food was served for dinner as was for breakfast, but I ate apple charlotka and was content.

A quick forage at the grocery store across the street to purchase goodies for another gluttonous feast on the train, and then we got on our train to return to Astrakhan'.

In Astrakhan' Lidia Glebovna gave Sara, Maria, and me a ride to our respective streets. As soon as I got into my room, I fell into bed and slept for another 7 hours.

Sunday night (last night) Sara, Laura, and myself went to the Dramatic Theater (that is literally what it is called) to see a comedy...I can't translate the title. It was a period piece, and while the set was pretty, I didn't really understand much of it. (It was very confusing: the mom wanted her daughter to marry the Prince, but another guy wanted to marry the daughter, and the Prince liked the daughter but didn't want to marry her, and the daughter didn't want to marry anybody...I think.) This time Sara and I got on the right marshrutka going in the right direction, and had no troubles getting home.

After I got home, my mom called. This made me happy, because I had kept forgetting to buy an international calling card over the previous 3-4 days, and I knew my grandparent's 50th was approaching. I got to wish my grandparents a happy anniversary, and talk briefly to everyone. It was nice, but hard. I think it is harder this time in Russia just because I have so much more contact with everyone at home. I miss you more when I think about you, and with no real internet or phone options it is easier to push everyone to the back of my mind and enjoy the moment. But I wouldn't give up the contact for anything.

Allison--I cannot read the Russian biochemical information on the back of my drugs (well, I can, but I don't understand it), and I have no idea what they would translate to in English. My cream is "derma--something with an "a" sound" (--aid, ate) I don't know by Glaxo-Smith-Kline. I'm taking Zyrtec daily, and some mystery pill--it might be something like diazalene(?).

Mom--I talked to Tim today about my concerns that my symptoms are alleviated but haven't abated. He is going to see if it is possible to arrange a consultation with a dermatologist.

Today seems the closest we have ever had to a half-day or a light day. Maybe I can actually go sit in a cafe for a while tonight. I just wish I could have chocolate or eat desert. It is incredibly difficult to feed my sweet tooth when fruit and chocolate are forbidden. Thank God for honey.

I have to leave for choir now. (They have added a new class to our schedule: Choir). I am really excited about it!

Love y'all--all y'all. Shelley.

Famine and flood.

Famine (then Flood).

So I have had this rash on my body for about a week. (I know what you are thinking--this is NEVER a good start to a story...or it's a really great one.) Little red bumps. I thought nothing of it for several days, as it stayed fairly well confined to my chest and didn't itch. In fact, I thought I was just being eaten alive by moshki (singular: moshka--little gnat-like things that swarm around me and divebomb my head).

As no bug repellent seemed to work, and the red bumps spread across my body, I began to get a trifle concerned. 2 nights ago I finally showed Natasha (my host). This prompted calls to the doctor, a camomile bath, and a dousing with Johnson's baby powder.

Yesterday, I went to the clinic here at school. The nurse inspected me, asked if I had a fever or itched, and urgently called the doctor. I was told to sit and not move. Natasha arrived, and we waited for the doctor together. The doctor arrived, inspected the extent of my rash, and asked if I had a fever or itched while sticking a tongue depressor down my throat. I called Tim, our group coordinator, who arrived 15 minutes later. The doctor, meanwhile, had been calling around to find a specialist. By this time she had ruled out any infectious disease (measles, smallpox, whatever), and thought I was having some sort of allergic reaction.

After being thoroughly interrogated about my eating, clothes-washing, and daily habits, I was forced to give up my bug-repellent. The doctor (a thin Marlboro-smoking woman...she doesn't smoke in the clinic) decided that I was having a reaction to my mosquito-and-moshki repellent...that I only bought BECAUSE I was already having an outbreak...and is specifically formulated for children. Whatever.

The doctor got in touch with a specialist over at the hospital, and Tim, the doctor, and I took a ride in Evgeny's car to the hospital. I have to say that he is the best driver I have encountered in Russia, ever. He is also the Russian coordinator for our program (and I think for all international students at Astrakhan' State University). He is awesome. I have thought so since meeting him in St. Petersburg. He is also the superman that got us our luggage in less than a day.

So we walk up the stairs to the third floor of the hospital. The doctor is leads the way through the labyrinth to the door of another doctor. She, the new doctor, leads us to yet another office, where the specialist is located. We walk right in, and the sllergy specialist quickly wraps up what she is doing with her Russian patient to talk to my two doctors. Tim and Evgeny are left behind in the hall as I strip and show my rash. Both new doctors say "Oi!", which doesn't make me feel the least bit better, and all three begin a rapid conversation in Russian that I can't quite follow. I am allowed to clothe myself once more, and then the specialist sits down and handwrites, on half a sheet of loose paper, my "prescription". There is nothing printed on this, at all. She doesn't even sign it. All doctors involved in this story were female, and I don't have to change the names because I never knew them.

This paper is then given to my doctor, who then gives it to Evgeny, who somehow later gave it to Natasha. I have never touched it. The entire process took about 2.5 hours.

I am now using some sort of cream (don't worry, it's made by Glaxo-Smith-Kline) and taking daily Zyrtec.

I am also on the most barbaric diet (sorry, "food plan") ever. And I'm not allowed to use bug spray or repellent. And all my clothes have to be rewashed...tonight I have an overnight trip to Volgograd (by train! so excited and apprehensive at the same time) and I have no clothes. Natasha even took my pillowcase that I brought from home!

I am not allowed to eat: chocolate, strawberries, cherries, tomatoes, fruit juice, sausage, candy, ice cream, rolls (like a poppy seed or cinnamon roll) of any kind, soft drinks, white bread, nuts, compote, citrus, eggs, or RED FOOD. This means I am also not allowed to eat borsch!

What is left? you ask. Well, I can eat: apples, cheese, meat, vegetables, potatoes, kasha (oatmealish), tea, black bread, seafood, and honey. I am basically on the Russian national diet. It wouldn't be quite that bad if they didn't insist on putting mushrooms (gaggag) in all of my food!

This is the famine portion of my entry. But at least I got to miss reading class.

Now for Flood.

So yesterday we had an excursion to view Astrakhan's media/information resources. The excursion started terribly, as we were sat down and 3 different people talked technical Russian very quickly (and quietly) at us. Then there was a break for coffee, tea, cookies, and toilets. This is when the better part started. We were then led to the 8th floor of the adjoining building, where we met with journalists and those in charge of the newspaper, Volga. This was more informal, as we were sitting in a conference room. Plus, these people were actually interesting and NOT MONOTONE. ugh. Monotone in any language is inexcusable.

Then we were led on a tour of the printer's. We got to see books being made by hand! It was utterly fascinating (for me...if you aren't a book geek, it was probably hellish). We also saw how they print the newspaper. There are photos up...

I tell this story in order to tell another. We just made it to the bus when a torrential downpour started. Hail, too. There is no such thing as drainage on Russian roads. But no one was worried. Ross even said, "I love rain!" I hate rain in the US.

By the time we got to the school, the sidewalks of the university had about 2 inches of water covering them. We made a mad dash into the school, and proceed to try to dry off as quickly as possible as we wait out the storm.

Natasha calls. She is in the restaurant in the next building over and wants me to join her immediately. I, thinking about the water I had just dashed through, was in no hurry to go back out into the storm, and told her that I was waiting there. She came and got me with an umbrella. Apparently, we had a ride with Nataliya Ivanovna and Kolya (that is not the name that I am allowed to use, of course) in his car.

Long story short, the car gets stuck in about 2 feet of water. We were literally floating. Pictures say a thousand words...and there are some in the photobucket. It was a grand adventure.

I finally got home by marshrutka...and it only took an hour and a half (compared to the usual 25-30 min). Traffic jams (пробка--i think literally "a little problem") everywhere. It was amazing.

But I am alive.

Love ya, Shelley

ни о чём (about nothing)

Mom, I only brought one English language book: A Treasury of American Scandals: those who let freedom swing, and the Bible, but I don't really count it since I don't particularly plan to devote much time to reading it. I have since borrowed from Andrew (a linguistics professor at Harvard) the book Reference Time and Aspect, which is fascinating but a bit dense, as I haven't yet taken a class on semantics (I think that is the field of study it falls into...not really sure)--anyway, it's a linguistic analysis of the Russian verb system, with a comparison to the English verbal system.

I did have with me 3 magazines, but I am sorry to report they didn't make it past Petersburg. My Economist lasted several days, and I purchased the new one in the DC airport, but my Vanity Fair and Newsweek didn't survive the 8-hour flight across the Atlantic. Anyway, I threw them all away in Petersburg to lighten the load, and the last Economist hit the trash in Volgograd. I haven't had much to read since. (Not that I have time to, anyway). Though it is a nice change of pace for my poor abused brain, being able to easily understand anything.

(BTW...I now love the Economist. I highly recommend it for all fields of interest.)

About the Russian-only language pledge...
Yeah, I have to say that in general, when talking to one another, there is a general conspiracy to ignore it as much as possible. Whenever Tim, our group leader, is around, we fall back to Russian (he's lectured us on the topic once already), but there are many things we want to say to one another that we just can't construct in Russian. I am trying to be better about saying the things I already know how to say in Russian to the other American students, and constantly trying to figure out how to say and memorize important phrases. There is an entire group (we are split into 3 classes) that seem to speak almost no Russian. C'est la vie.

I finally bought a Russian-Russian dictionary. I love it. I bought it in St. Petersburg because it was cheap (and literally the lightest--but has 53,000 words), but I really enjoy looking up words in it. Plus, it provides the grammatical information that I can never remember (the genitive plural of 'village'...anyone? anyone?). I don't think I will ever forget that the first entry I glanced at and understood was кладбище (cemetery). Speaking of which, there is a HUGE cemetery in the middle of Astrakhan' that I pass on my way to and from school every day. I sooo want to take a picture of it to show y'all, but I am afraid I'll be considered rude or crazy if I pull out my camera in the middle of the marshrutka ride.

My classes:
I have 4. Plus the previously-mentioned lecture. (I can only fully intone my disgust with the Russian word: лекция.) Phonetics (fun but not frequent enough for my desperate need), grammar (not quite moving fast enough, although today the teacher added reflexives to already-despised prefixed motion verbs and blew my mind), writing (not doing ANYTHING useful), and reading (the texts are a little boring, but otherwise an okay class). We have tons of homework (I'm in the third group--the Camomiles--the Russians' idea) , and we are breezing through grammar. I've done 45 pages of exercises in the past week and a half.

Social life later. Computer time is up now.

--shelley

School days

It's been a while since my last post, but I don't really have internet outside of the measly 45 minutes a day that we get at the school, and I've been trying to upload all of my pictures and videos. (by the way...there are new pics and photos-->)

When I last left you, we had arrived in Astrakhan'. Forgoing any attempt to catch up in detail, I will try to give you a sketch of my usual day and describe our many excursions about the city.

I am pretty exhausted at the end of every day, and this one has been no different, so forgive me if I abruptly end without completing my outline and start a new post tomorrow.

Classes start at 9:30 every morning. (you are now saying to yourself: "How cushy! I want to be starting my day that late." But no. Read on.) In order to climb the 3 flights of stairs to the 4th floor where my classroom is, and to allow time for the majority of the sweat on my body to dry, I have to arrive no later than 9:15. In order to arrive by 9:15, I have to be sitting on the marshrutka by 8:45. This means I have to be at the marshrutka stop by 8:30, as invariably at least 3 full marshrutki will pass before one stops that has an available seat. In order to make the marshrutka stop, eat breakfast, shower, and generally wake up, I have to get out of bed by 7:00 (6:45 is better). So I have been busy for a full 2.5 hours before I even arrive at school (and this includes the mild paranoia which shades all my marshrutka rides, as I never quite trust that they will take me to my destination. Plus, I have to tell the driver when to stop.

Classes rotate every day, but the first one will last 90 minutes, followed by a 15 minute break (which is always shorter, because the teachers run into the time from both sides--end class late and start class early), and then another 90 minute class.

It is now 12:45, and we all must go to the school restaurant to eat our free lunch. We have assigned tables and assigned seats. Every day, a menu is provided for the following day, and we are supposed to indicate our choices. This is an exercise in futility, as the cooks and servers send us whatever they feel is best for us. I hate raw tomatoes. I will never like raw tomatoes, but raw tomatoes appeared in front of me even though I had clearly indicated (with a very large handwritten "HET") that I did not want them. It's Russia. All you can do is laugh.

After lunch (which is a generous 90 minutes...but there is absolutely NO way to work within the leftover 20-40 minutes each day), there is lecture. Ah, Lecture, how I hate thee. Lecture is also 90 minutes. Lidia Glebovna, our teacher, speaks so slowly and clearly that I want to shoot myself. She seriously talks to us as though we were sixth graders, explaining at length all the "long words" she uses. Unfortunately, these long and difficult words are all EXACT COGNATES. I'm dying inside a little more with every overly enunciated word. As Jennifer puts it: "I can perfectly spell every word she says. I might have no idea what it means, but I can spell it." Plus, the woman chooses the most boring topics in the world, and if there is the slightest bit of interest in the topic, she will never get to the details, instead stamping out any intellectually stimulating detail (I guess she thinks it is too hard for us).

What Lidia Glebovna (and others) don't seem to understand is that we can understand a lot more than we can say. I know this is true for me. I would love to sit and listen to lectures from different speakers in different fields, talking at a normal (or slightly slower) speaking pace about topics that interest them. That would help me improve my aural comprehension, as well as varying my exposure. Right now, we only have the grating voice of L.G. Zolotykh.

Oh, and this woman reads our journals, so I can't even complain about her in there! (We are required to keep a daily journal in addition to the dozens of pages of homework assigned everyday).

After lecture, thankfully, is computer time, which is also consultation time with our teachers. We were scolded in our weekly meeting for not attending consultation this past week. 1) It was the first week. We did nominative and genitive case--nothing too taxing. 2) Consultation will ALWAYS lose out to internet time. Always. We are American students. Get over it. 3) At 3 PM, there is nothing LESS I want to do than more school. We've been here for 5.5 hours already, and are usually facing some sort of obligatory activity after school.

On the days that there are no excursions or other post-school activities, I hop a marshrutka with Sara (we live along the same route), and repeat my 30 minute ride of the morning in reverse. I promise that a marshrutka post is coming, because they are so interesting that I have to devote an entire post to them. I think that the earliest I have every gotten back to the apartment is 6 PM--usually its 7 on non-event days. Event days are usually 12 hour days. Rough.

Oh, I don't have to say that all of this is COMPLETELY in Russian, do I?

Okay, so I am too tired to talk about our excursions and events...I promise I will do so tomorrow.
Love, Shelley (Шелли)

Trying to catch up.

Finally, pictures are up on my Photobucket account. (Link to the right) I will not recount the horrors of uploading them...suffice it to say that there are very good reasons that they are not in any real order (sorry). I'll try to at least get labels on them soon. We are only given 45 minutes of internet access a day, and it's not very consistent most of the time (although I won't complain too much--it's free, available, and when it works, decently fast).

So where were we? Yes, Saturday night.

When we arrived, night had already fallen, and it was pretty late (9:30 ish). We were split into two groups, by gender, and almost frog-marched to the toilet. It was locked and on the third floor. After entering, I was struck dumb. There was toilet paper, soap, AND paper towels! A miracle. Only one girl had her toothbrush on her, but she generously shared her toothpaste and I brushed my teeth with a paper towel.

We were then directed to a restaurant in the basement of a student dormitory, where places were set in 4 booths, with placecards of folded goldenrod paper, and a group of people just standing around staring at us. I couldn't think about eating, but at least tried the food. While we were trying our exhausted best to eat, the same woman that had taken us to the bathroom distributed bags to each of us. Inside was an АГУ t-shirt, Columbia capris, a folder with our program information, flip flops (the fold-up kind, like at nail salons) and A TOOTHBRUSH. I could have cried. I think I almost did cry.

After about 30 minutes, a large crowd of people arrived--our families. I'm not really sure what to call my host...she's too young to be my host mom and too old to be my sister (maybe--she has a six year-old daughter). I'll call her my Natasha. She works at the restaurant (Чистая вода--Pure Water), and I later figured out that she is either the accountant or the business manager (some such). Natasha collected me after everyone had left and we headed out the door. We met her friend Sergei at the street, and he gave us a ride to Natasha's apartment (I think it was a Honda Pilot). I have no idea as to the nature of their relationship. At first, I thought they were married, but when she didn't introduce him as her husband, I thought boyfriend. I haven't seen him since, so maybe just friends. I also don't know whether Natasha is divorced. Confusion. I could probably ask, but I just don't feel like doing so right now.

Natasha's apartment is nice (not quite as nice as the Selyankos' in Taganrog) and she is in the middle of remodeling it. I am in her daughter's room. I sleep on a CAT BED! It is literally shaped like a cat. I'll take a picture and post it. I love my bed. It's about the size of a twin.

The computer and a TV are in my room. I haven't yet used either. The internet wasn't working until last night (Volodya...a friend of a friend? fixed it...he had to redo most of Natasha's computer to do so...it's a little too old for the internet system she had bought).

I really like Natasha's daughter, Vika. She is excellent, and a lot of fun to talk to. I'll devote a post to her soon.

We didn't go to the theater 2 nights ago--we actually went to a philharmonic concert. It was really good, but I almost fell asleep during the first half and had to repeatedly wake myself up. Operatic-style music is very soothing when exhausted.

Last night we went to the movies and saw Kung-Fu Panda in RUSSIAN. It wasn't dubbed...just Russian voice actors. Soooo goood. I loved it. Our coordinator tried to apologize today for choosing a kid's movie, but I love animation. Awesome. I'm going again. "Don't Mess with the Zohan" is coming soon.

Love you, miss you. 45 minutes is not enough time!
-shelley

In Astrakhan'

It's been a while, especially without access to the internet, so let me tell you what has happened in the interim.

St. Petersburg was beautiful, but far too European and Americanized for my taste. I say this like I have a right to judge the "Russianness" of the city. To me, Moscow felt Russian, even though urban and so like every other major city. It has European stores and influences, but the heart of the city is Russian--chaotic, colorful, and dirty. Peter I planned St. Petersburg to be a major European city, a stark contrast to Moscow (which he hated).

On every street, and on 80% of signs in Petersburg is English. Cashiers speak to you in English, or at least offer "the English menu." When I tried to speak Russian, they would answer in English, and tell me to just speak English. I'm here to learn to speak, not just a damn tourist looking to be relieved of all of my cash. Speaking of being ripped off: I bought a watercolor at a souvenir fair. It's a small cityscape, and I probably paid 25% more than it is worth, but at least I didn't just roll over and pay the asking price--I got it for a 100 rubles less than the seller asked. Getting ripped off was part of the fun.

One huge advantage of large cities like Petersburg is that public transportation is everywhere, and so it isn't difficult to find one's way around. In Russia, public transport is common in all cities, but here in Astrakhan' we are pretty much limited to buses and marshrutki (whose route maps are near impossible to find, and have no regular stops). It's impossible to get lost on a Metro or trambai (a trolley), as they are limited by the tracks.

Oh, so I am in Astrakhan' now. Let me tell you about our journey here. So we were told to met in the lobby by 3:30 AM, when our bus was supposed to leave for the airport. My new roommate, Hannah, and I decided not to go club hopping (as many did) and instead repacked our luggage, paying particular attention to weight, and turned in early in an attempt to get some sleep. We managed to get a 4-hour nap, and then by mutual consensus gave up the effort at 2 AM. We had the luxury of plenty of time to get ready, and at 3 AM went searching the hotel for a bottle of water (the bar was still open--we paid an outrageous price--70 rubles, 3x what I paid today in Astrakhan', but we got our water).

At 3:20 we were sitting in the lobby waiting on everyone else. We had seen in the hallway at least 1/3 of the group drunk and quite happy. 3 or 4 of them smoked in the lobby while we waited for the bus. Yeah, smoking is everywhere in St. Petersburg. I think I inhaled the equivalent of half a pack on my walking exploration. Also, there are very few limits on smoking indoors. Our hotel provided ashtrays for our rooms.

Of course, the bus didn't leave the hotel until almost 4, but we could see the sun beginning to rise. It's a beautiful time of day (there were probably less than 3 hours of darkness that night--the White Nights festival begins June 22 or so). I was awake for my exit from the city, which I think was better anyway. As we travelled farther from the center, the city felt more and more Russian. Even with no traffic, the trip took nearly 45 minutes.

At the airport, only one door was open...of course, we and all of our luggage were deposited at a different door. We entered through a security checkpoint, and then had an hour to kill before we could even check in for our flight. Luckily for me, when we did check in, we checked our bags as a group, and so did not need to worry about the weight limit. So, remembering that we would likely be travelling in smaller jets, I fatefully decided to check my carry-on (mostly because I didn't want the hassle of figuring out how to gate-check the thing).

Most exciting of all (and likely portentous), we were flying Aeroflot...the Soviet national airline.

I guess that Aeroflot pilots are all ex-military, and so their fighter jet training supercedes the fact that they are flying a commercial jet. Both flights took off at what felt like a near-vertical slope (not possible, I know, but it sure felt like it), and landed similarly. I watched one take off after our flight to Moscow, and couldn't believe the steepness of the climb. I have never seen (or felt) anything like it in the States, and I think that I have flown a fair bit, and on a good sample of airlines. On our approach to Volgograd, I thought we were flying through a thunderstorm, but it was just the decent. I found myself ritualistically conjugating the verb бояться (to fear) in order to distract myself from the slightly terrifying turbulence. And I enjoy turbulence. The Astrakhan' airport is closed for repairs, so we had to fly to Volgograd and then take a bus.

In Moscow, we had less than an hour layover. Poor Yevgeny, trying to lead a recalcitrant group of American students (half of whom are hungover or still drunk) mostly dragging their feet through the airport. I say "through," although we actually had to go outside and walk to a separate building. Then, we had only our e-tickets, which got us through security, but then we discovered we had no boarding passes. Or at least Christine discovered this as Yegeny and Tim were trying to wrangle the lagging members of the group, and we got the rest to queue up at the ONE ticket counter open (there are 22 students going to Astrakhan'). I think that I was 3rd to get my boarding pass, and I noticed that our plane had begun boarding 15 MINUTES earlier. Once Tim got through (our Group Leader from Princeton University--he's not taking classes, but is mostly our supervisor and helper, if needed), he ran to the gate, where some had already assembled, and told them our situation. They held the plane for us, but it was a near thing. The plane took off only 5-10 minutes late.

I tell you this to explain our situation when we arrived. There was NO LUGGAGE. Not one piece made the plane in the group of 24 people. Fortunately, Yevgeny was able to take care of it all without us filling out forms (because we had checked the luggage as a group). We were assured that it would arrive Sunday evening, as Tim passed out Cokes and non-sparkling water like candy to pacify us. We boarded the bus, and went to a cafe in Volgograd, where Yevgeny/CAORC paid for our food. It was very good, but the girl clearing the tables kept staring at us through the door (there was a room for large groups with a glass door). I felt like a monkey at the zoo.

The bus ride was 8 hours long. We stopped twice, both times as bathroom breaks. I will not regale you with yet another of my Russian toilet experiences (though I now have new ones), but suffice it to say that the last was the side of a building facing away from the road. The highway was paved, but not level in the least. I slept for the first 4 hours, and dreamed that I was on a ship on the high seas. I am so glad there is no one in our group with motion sickness.

Fittingly, we are in steppe country--wide and flat. For most of the journey there were few if any trees or scrub, and what little there was did not relieve the impression of an ocean of grass, being short and sparce. There were a few settlements along the highway. Words do not adequately describe the feeling of isolation. But itwas utterly beautiful, if you are in to that sort of thing.

I'm going to try to add photos here soon.

Tomorrow I will tell you more. Dinner is soon, and we are going to the theater tonight!

In Petersburg...but not for long

So It's been a while. I won't try to catch y'all up to everything, since I am borrowing a computer and there are only 30 minutes of wireless at MacDonald's before some unknown horrific fate occurs, I will keep this brief.
,
My last night in DC was fun, and I got to see the Natural History Museum and National Gallery of Art before catching the bus to the airport.

My journey from the US was exhausting, even though shorter than the last time. I fell asleep on the bus into St. Petersburg, and so missed an introduction to the city beyond being startled awake by our Russian coordinators at important buildings. I fell into bed once the chaos at check-in was sorted out and slept for 12 hours.

Jet lag. Awful, awful jet lag. Bitterly resented the beginning of orientation in Russia, as it was mostly redundant. Coffee/Tea break was good. Almost didn't go out into the city during our free time, but am really glad I did go. 5 hours of walking, and I got to unknowingly discover most of the places I was absolutely dying to go. Church of the Resurrection on Spilled Blood? Yes! Winter Palace? Check. Admiralty? Done.

At 10 PM we went on a boat ride around the city. I have pictures that I will post here soon.

Today was pretty good. Will elaborate later. Have to let Hannah have her computer back now...and pack for our 2 AM wake-up call for our 3:30 AM ride to the airport. Oh, and I have to call Bank of America, as my card has been rejected at 3 different bankomats. I'm so mad. I took care of this before I left!!!

Love, Shelley

DC Daze

Hey gang!

I arrived at Reagan at about 2 PM on Sunday (my flight out of GSP was delayed for over an hour), and promptly retrieved my bags at baggage claim before setting out to find the metro station in the airport. It was easy to find, but I forgot all my rules of subway travel, and deliberately chose not to get on the first train going my way (as I was looking for a train labeled "Yellow-Fort Totten," rather than remembering that the end destination of the direction you want to go in is the usual name). That was a 45 minute mistake, as apparently "a body and a train collided" in the DC Metro that afternoon. This backed traffic up terribly.

The hotel was directly above the Metro station, and so I really had no trouble at all getting to the hotel once a Yellow train finally showed up.

As soon as I walked into the lobby, I saw Matthew Cox, a fellow Gamecock who has spent the past year in Georgia. It was soo good to see a familiar face. Turns out his room wasn't ready, and he'd been hanging around for a couple of hours. I signed in, dropped off my bags, and realized that I had 3 hours to kill before the Meet-and-Greet.

Matthew and I decided to walk over to the National Mall (its across and down the street from our hotel). There was a Jewish festival going on, so now I have a GoIsrael! beachball. We managed to run into the National Art Museum before it closed, and saw the Afghanistan exhibit as well as the modern art galleries. We both opted out of "Small French Paintings." The we ate egg rolls at the Filipino festival down the street. I love DC.

After our Meet-and-Greet, where no one remembered anyone else's name, we went out to Chinatown for dinnner. Unlike NYC, this food was identifiable and quite delicious. (and cheap. I got a bubble tea for dessert...yumyum.) We were all tired after dinner, and took the metro back to the hotel to crash.

I slept very well. My roommate is a girl from UVA goint to Nizhni Novgorod, the city I wanted to go to originally. Her name is Kristin and she seems really cool. Fortunately, we don't seem to have an excessive number of Russian Freaks on this trip. (you know what I mean.)

Orientation lasted ALL DAY. This was unnecessary. But they fed us fairly well, and a couple of people were actually interesting. Our program director talked in Russian for about 30 minutes, and I am proud to say I understood or got the gist of about 90% of what he said.

I tried to go to the other National Art Museum before dinner, but it closed at 5. Instead, we wandered around Air and Space. They have some really cool Soviet stuff that I don't think was there a couple years ago. And the commercial exhibit is way cool. Some attache to the Russian embassy came to dinner. He wasn't that interesting, but it was good to hear a native speaker again. I miss Russians, and Russia.

I've got to go. I'm paying $5.29 to use the hotel computer. Giant rip-off.

Oh, I leave at 5 PM or so tomorrow, so I hope to get to more Smithsonians before the van leaves at 1 PM for Dulles. I'm flying Lufthansa, and hope that a combination of busy museum going and Jack-and-Cokes will let me sleep until our 7 AM arrival in Frankfurt.

Love ya, Shelley

Welcome!

My main purpose in "A Cuppa Tae" is to eliminate the hassle (on my end) of the email list. I always forget somebody; mailerdaemon sends me 12 messages saying that "so-and-so's" email doesn't exist; my browser times out halfway through a 10 paragraph retelling. These are just a few of the hazards of US email usage, never mind the horrors of internet in another language.

So I hope that you enjoy this account of my second trip to Russia. I leave June 1st for DC, and will arrive in St. Petersburg on June 4th. From there I will travel to Volgograd, and then spend 7 weeks in Astrakhan' on the Volga River, near the Caspian Sea.

Love you,
Shelley