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