Monday

The first day was tiring. I slept pretty well last night, and the mosquito net was a real help. The sun does not set however. I woke up at 2am randomly and the sky was still light. Crazy. I was so happy to find that we have hot water here and the shower is decent. You have to try to avoid getting any of the water in your eyes or mouth though, since it’s so toxic from bacteria and fallout. Excellent. But at least the incubation period for Giardia is a couple of weeks, or so I think. Great… Eena prepared so much food for breakfast. I do not know the Russian words for some of the things. I had what is basically an open-faced cold sandwich thing (boo-dyer-brohd), some kind of heavy strange tasting cross between cream cheese, regular cheese, and milk, which I put some kind of red unsweet berries on, then a salad with tomatoes, cucumber, cheese, pickles, some other kind of vegetables with an olive oil and salt dressing (in Russia there isn’t lettuce I guess), and lots of different kinds of bread, some kind of flat pastry thing with raisins and nuts, and tea. The food is very filling and I don’t get hungry for long after I eat it. Then it was off to the Institute, which took forever. I guess I am kind of way out there. It took us an hour or so and we even rode a little minibus thing (mar-shoot-ka) to the subway stop (Chernyshevskaya stantseeya). It was confusing because we had to change lines somewhere and then walk somewhere. So she dropped me off and we had a little orientation at the Institute where I saw Professor Golstein again, along with Prof Evdokimova. I have to bring all sorts of documents in tomorrow to register with the embassy (required within 3 days of entering the country).

The institute is pretty nice, as are the people. I am nervous about class tomorrow (three hours of Russian straight) since I am so rusty. But afterwards we are going on another tour of the city with the faculty. Today a few Russian students showed us around, helped us get phone cards, and figure out the subway. Natasha was the most helpful—a 21 year old girl from the farthest east of Russia you can possibly go. Her English was excellent and she seemed to enjoy showing us around. She told me this story about how a friend of hers was the daughter of some well known and wealthy dealer in precious metals and jewels, and how one day some men came up to her and put a gun against her head, forcing her to call her father and explain that if he didn’t sell his company she would die. Ah Russia… At least he sold the company. But anyway, we ate this Pushkin café, which had live music playing Mozart—I know you’d appreciate that Pat. I am trying not to eat meat here, which is hard. So I ordered “steamed vegetables” and got basically a cheese soup with some vegetables in it. The place was nice if only for the fact that the bathrooms not only had toilet paper, but toilet seats too! Which brings me to a fun fact (too much information warning here) that Russian women stand on toilet seats when doing their business. Can’t say I have attempted that one yet, nor know how they can do it in the ever so popular stiletto heels they all seem to wear.

On our walk we were able to see the Church of Spilled Blood reasonably close up and wandered around the memorial to the Napoleonic war, apparently built before the war even really started (according to Natasha). Cant’ hurt to get a head start I guess. The building was really interesting—tons of long rough looking columns, and on the inside an orthodox church full of icons and candles. There was a particularly special icon in there I guess, so there was a long line of people waiting to pray before it, all crossing themselves numerous times and wearing headscarves (the women that is). It was strange to see such expressions of faith, and how prevalent orthodoxy still is here—despite the communist era. It was surprising to see some icons close up, after only having seen them in books and slides. They are incredibly intricate and beautiful—especially the ones using metal. Then there was some walking along the Neva, 40 cent Popsicles that had an orange center filled with pop rocks (not the most pleasant discovery), and then more walking. I think it was supposed to be record heats today (31 C or so), and you could feel it. The air is bad here—you can feel the pollen clotting your throat, and there’s nothing better than breathing it through your nose.

So eventually we all headed back to our host families, which turned into a bit of a nightmare. Alisa luckily had to go to Mayakovskaya stantseeya with me where I had to switch lines. This was a horrible experience. Up until then I completely doubted my Russian teacher’s (Melissa) warnings about the subway along with what others had said. My subway experience in the morning was totally normal—the subway was decently clean, no rude pushing, no creepy people. The cool part is this crazy escalator that goes super fast and seems to go on and on forever into the bowels of the city. It’s a little scary. So yeah, the subway home was extremely crowded, and I had thought the Boston subway was very crowded on a rush hour afternoon. The doors that close off the subway were at this stop—it’s like a wall with black doors (kind of like those you see on rail cars) that open to the subway, whose own doors then open, if that makes any sense. Next involved a ridiculous amount of pushing. I have never been in such a tight space in my life or crushed into people. It was literally crammed tight where you had five peoples bodies pressed up against yours and people do not even bother to be polite, ramming you in if you’re not moving fast enough with full weight. Alisa and I were both able to get on, although we got somewhat separated. I was worried someone was going to try to steal stuff out of my bag, but instead I got molested by some guy standing next to me, and no it wasn’t just an accident that his hand was where it shouldn’t have been. It took me a while to notice since the subway was so packed and everyone was pressed up against each other, and there wasn’t much I could do about it except try to elbow his arm away. I figured trying to slap him in the face would only lead to more trouble, plus the sick feeling in my throat overpowered any thought except to get the hell out. Thankfully I was only going one stop. So I switched lines, which wasn’t as crowded and made it to my stop.

I had tried calling my host family earlier, but the number wasn’t working correctly and I got some other person’s house, which made for a great conversation where I eventually understood she was saying I had called the wrong number. Eena called me and she tried to explain to me where I was supposed to meet her to take a bus again, since the walk is rather long to the apartment. That failed. Eventually I managed to say that I didn’t understand her well enough to meet her so I was just going to walk home since I had a map and liked walking. I guess she didn’t understand me, because 10 or 15 later I got a call from her husband saying he was at the metro station. Ugh. I found my way back alright, although this city seems not to have many street signs. So I ended up asking about 3 random people where I was. One woman, as soon as I said two words started explaining to me where I was in broken English. I guess I need to work on my accent. I found my way back and picked up a 2 liter bottle of water, because I’m not sure I trust my host family’s “filter.” I still don’t understand the currency system here, and the cashier asked me something which I completely failed to understand. Ah well. I made it home only to discover that both my host parents were out, as the babushka informed me (yay I understood something). I felt really bad about the whole thing, but they were nice about it. I think the babushka is kind of confused about my presence here, almost strangely suspicious. Oh well.

Dinner was pretty good, although I am eating meat despite my attempts not to. I really hope I don’t get sick. Tonight I got to eat with Joseph (pronounced ee-yo-syef here) as well. I can understand him a million times better than Eena. He speaks far more slowly and clearly. Eena is from Kiev originally, so I don’t know if she has a different accent or something (any ideas Melissa?). He is a very sweet man and I felt like we actually had a real conversation. It was great. They’re both so patient with me. I find out that they have two daughters in graduate school, one studies Russian literature, the other studies French, German, Chinese, Russian, and some other language I didn’t recognize. This is clearly a very educated family. I was able to tell them some about my family, which was nice. When I told them my brother’s name (Joshua), Joseph was like “ooh a biblical name” (in Russian of course). Haha. I have a feeling they’re not orthodox though because I have seen no icons or other Christian type stuff, but I did see a menorah I think in one room. He looks Jewish, although I’m not sure about her. I kind of wonder if Prof Golstein did this deliberately.

I am so lucky with my home stay. Tania is living out in soviet block housing with an old woman and her cripple son—I guess she has the only bedroom and the son sleeps on the coach and the woman on the floor. Prof Golstein said Tania shouldn’t feel bad, because it would be worse if she left because then they’d make no money over the summer. It’s sad but awkward. Anyway, I have to wake up early so I can make it to the institute on time. I hope I get to enjoy the white nights outdoors soon. I will try to write again soon.