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.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
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.
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.
Friday, July 11, 2008
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
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
Monday, July 7, 2008
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.
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.
Friday, July 4, 2008
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.
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.
Monday, June 30, 2008
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
Friday, June 27, 2008
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
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