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
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Monday, June 23, 2008
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.
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.
Friday, June 20, 2008
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
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
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
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
Monday, June 16, 2008
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)
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)
Thursday, June 12, 2008
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
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
Monday, June 9, 2008
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!
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!
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