Well today is the fourth of July: an abstract and also physical notion I contemplated this morning when walking into the bathroom (toilet is in another room in Russia, fyi) to find a blue bucket of scalding water and a ladle sitting in the bathtub. Yes, today, so perfectly timed, was the day they turned off the hot water in my region of St Petersburg, not to appear again (according to my host family) for another 20. I missed America and thought of my homeland as I tried to get soaked through my long and horribly unruly hair, (let alone even try to wash it properly). Has anyone ever tried shaving their legs when they have goose bumps (I’m going to the ballet tonight so I had no choice)? Yeah, well don’t—you’ll regret it. I wasn’t sure whether the whole bucket was for me or for the three other people in the house to use as well, so I tried not to use too much water. Just so you know, this turning off the water thing has been going on for years. I’m not sure how many, but at least ten (seeing as when my Russian teacher was in Russia they turned off the water then too). I think the project (pipe cleaning and restoration) is supposed to be finished in 2050, or something ridiculous like that. Sometimes I wonder whether much of what happens in Russia is just some enormous psychological experiment.
It was a little difficult and I tried to mix some of the hot water from the bucket and the cold water from the spicket, but regardless half by body was being burned while the other half was freezing. Today made me appreciate all the things about America that most people, including myself, take for granted, like hot water, clean water, un-giardiarific water, un-yellow water, a working toilet, toilet paper, toilet seats, hand soap, free bathrooms, trash cans on the streets, screens, working phone lines, the English language, and the list could go on. It would be nice to come home right now just for an hour. I don’t mean to sound like a whiny little princess, but showers are one of my few solaces. Whenever I’m in a bad mood or exhausted from writing a paper and think I can’t finish it—20 min shower and everything is better. But the bucket will have to suffice for now.
If you can see them--no those are not enormous pimples on the side of my face, those are enormous mosquito bites, which give me the worst of both worlds: zit-like red lumps, and insane amounts of itching. After a while the buzzing in your ears gets so annoying when you’re trying to sleep that you want them to bite you just so you can sleep. This is the result. And they get more swollen the second day and form a whitish ring. They also take a really long time to go away; I still have some from two weeks ago. There are these things called foo-mee-gah-toree or something that you plug into your outlet and supposedly make the mosquitoes leave your room, but I need to buy more of the little tablets you have to replace in them. Grr. I hate the mosquitoes here; they’re not like at home. So vicious.
Sorry if this post is a little too physically personal, but there’s something about living here in Russia (that reminds me of camping in a weird way), where you start to lose some of your modesty about certain things, since physical needs are often to the forefront of one’s mind--whether it’s Tania asking if I brought Kleenex to use for bathroom trips, or David saying he had diarrhea for 3 hours from the hotdogs he’s too embarrassed to turn down every morning.
Onto a more noble subject, the picture of the American flag is from the US embassy we stumbled upon one day while walking around. I got yelled at by the guard, who I thought would maybe be American and therefore more friendly, seeing as he had an American flag on the arm of his uniform. Apparently it’s forbidden to take a picture of one’s own flag. Oh, Russia…
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