Thursday, July 17th, 2008
One of these days we went to Tolstoy's house. I liked it a lot. A lot of original furniture, including his room and desk where he wrote the last few novels of his life. His garden was really nice.
We went to Pushkin's house too, I think it was the following week. It was not as cool as Tolstoy's... it was more of a shrine than anything.
Friday, July 18th, 2008 Successful aortic mobilization -- then Sergei blatantly killed it to look at the anatomy. After surgery, vodka with Zarine & Sergei-- refused for awhile, frustrating. Garage, Tema, Bilingua - home at 6am. Daria, danced, kissed, maybe fell in love.
Saturday July 19th, 2008
Morgue: Double knee and shoulder surgery. After, went to the market where I bought authentic soviet propaganda poster-- Irina translated it to say something like, "You should work and relax so you don't get tuberculosis. Evening, we went to Asya's flat; she cooked us dinner, watched part of a Soviet black and white film and part of Master & Margarita. I used her internet for like 6 hours while J and A watched more movies. Daria pissed.
Sunday July 20th, 2008
Whole group went to the Armory and the Diamond Fund. I mostly just made fun of the guy's voice who spoke through the self-guided tour thingy. Evening, went to FAQ Cafe to see an alternative jazz band play; it was pretty cool. Night, met Asya really late by Pizza Girl's flat. Talked to her for a bit. D apologized for being mean the night before.
Monday July 21st, 2008
House of the Romanov Boyars with Asya. Evening went with Irina & Natalya to ridiculous Ukrainian restaurant where they were dressed up in costume, and misspelled everything on the menu, or just translated it completely wrong. Some of our favorite food descriptions:
-Cream is creamy (instead of cream cheese)
-Raspberry-colored (no clue; had it listed 20 times)
-Cabbage fermented (sauerkraut)
Tues July 22, 2008
The lost day. I have nothing written.
Wed July 23, 2008
After class, Katya took us all to the Chinese Circus. She had free tickets from her parents. It was an acrobatic show of sorts, geared more towards kids, but I thought it was really freaking cool. We had the last dinner with Nastia before she left for vacation at Sushi Planet. Then one of the most hilarious nights ensued: First Irina asked J and I to come back to the Main Building to carry in groceries. She had a ton of food and liquor she bought for the next night's Blini Party. We carried them up and hung out in her room. We opened up a bottle of wine, which lead to opening a bottle of another, and another. Nick the Dr. was there, and Irina told us that it's a tradition for Dr.'s to receive cognac as gifts. So he pulled out his cognac and we drank the bottle. Then we drank another bottle of cognac. There were only four of us drinking and gorging on the food that was to be saved for the next night. So you can imagine our states of mind at this point. At about midnight we decided we should go to the Look Out at Sparrow Hill to enjoy the nice view for the weather was quite nice. We trek drunkenly, carrying another bottle of wine for arrival. We make it about an hour later to the Look Out and this is when it started to get good.
Let me remind you, Dr. Nick is a surgeon at one of the better hospitals in Moscow. He goes on to tell us as we're pouring the 4th bottle of wine and after 2 bottles of cognac that he has to go to work int he morning. Justin and I find this hilarious; what the heck is he thinking. Meanwhile, Irina has to go to the bathroom so she jumps the cement retaining wall and slithers down the steep cliff to find a good pee-spot. She's wearing this very Russian dress. Shortly, while J and Dr. N are carrying on, I hear Irina's cries for help. I jump the wall, and immediately slip on the wet grass on the hillside. This hill is freaking slippery. I very carefully in my dress shoes, dress shirt, and khaki pants, slide down the hill without staining my pants too badly, and only slipping once. I reach her finally about 50 feet down; she's laying in the weeds on her back. She can't climb up this steep monstrosity and wants me to carry her. OK, she's really light, but come on, i couldn't do it, not up that thing. So I yell up to J. and Dr. N, "Hey guys come down here, Irina needs carried up the hill." So, Dr. N is like a street fighter or something he kept telling us all night. He looks sorta like a shorter version of the Russian boxer in Rocky. He's built. But remember, he's wasted.
Without hesitation, he mumbles something in half Russian half English, and hops the cement barricade swiftly. Sadly, however, his landing on the other side wasn't so swift. Immediately, he loses his balance on the hillside, and starts rolling head over heals down the hill. He looked like something out of a cartoon, or kind of like one of the acrobats i saw earlier in the day, but Russian. After about 25 ft of that he seemed to slow down, but no, he turns on his side and starts barrel-rolling, BARREL ROLLING!, laughing his head off, like a child, the whole way down the hill until he reached Irina and I at the bottom. I haven't laughed harder in Russia. J's up at the top dying laughing. Dr. N struggles to stand up, laughing maniacally. By the way, he's dressed up too, only he's wearing all white dress pants and all white dress shirt. Nice clothes. Not nice anymore. Now there were more of a tie dye of green grass and brown mud and dirt. He comes to Irina, picks her up in his arms like a baby, and starts his climb back to the top. I couldn't believe what i was watching.
He did make it to the top, eventually. And we did make it back to the dorm eventually too... at about 4:30 am. We put Irina to bed and whipped out the video camera in front of Dr. Nick. We start interrogating him. He speaks very poor English, but we understood that he has lost all his credit cards out of his pocket, as well as his pass into the dorms. He now has to go back to the hill and look for these items before he can go to bed. He tells us he has to perform surgery at 9am. It's an hour metro ride away. Freaking Russian Doctors.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Thursday, August 21, 2008
July 13th - July 16
Sunday - July 13, 2008
12pm - Awoke. Met Katya and Nastia at the Red Square for the Formula 1 race. We bought tckts for 2000 rubles, or about 85-90 dollars. Turned out to just be a "show" and not a race at all. We (I) was rather pissed. One real formula 1 race car was there -- I think Nick ... something. 11th in the standings. All the others were just other types of racing -- quite unspectacular. On the bright side, I got to see a Formula One race car, a Moscow race show around the Kremlin, and Drift racers. It was about 85 degrees Fahrenheit, blistering sun, I got burned. The russians thought it was the apocalypse. I sat by Katya on my left & Chris on my right. I flirted with the left. we should have expected the race to only be a show; in moscow, everthing is only for show. fo sho.
5pm - It ended. Went to this Irish pub, official futbol pub. Got the absolute worst steak sandwich of my life. Walked to GUM; now Brett & Acya joined; got creme brulee ice cream-- Katya & I's favorite. Walked to the Moskva Riv. Then to Yolky Palky. Then took Asya home -- but first Katya, we met her parents outside, very nice, father was some Jujitso or Taikido master dressed in a red olympic jumpsuit. google image search russian boxer and that's what he looks like, blonde, blue eyes, 6'4". Ready to kick someone's ass. K. invited us back to her flat another day; We were abruptly uninvited to a flat by a certain other person. Jealously at work.
2am - Bed.
Monday - July 14, 2008
Metro Museum.
Tuesday - July 15, 2008
-Dinner with Tanya and Zoe (both new arrivals from the Pitt abroad program) and their new friend Ryan. We might have scared them with our unabashed Americanism. It's funny to see how we probably were 2 months ago when we first arrived--- mostly just scared out of our minds. Now, we walk and talk with confidence, we know our boundaries.... some would call it arrogance... i like to call it 'getting things done while having fun.' Where else can you scream across a restaurant, "Dyevooska! KLEBBB!" and it be semi-acceptable?
Wednesday - July 16, 2008 - Our 2nd Dacha
Outline -- Masha's Dacha: Boat ride, Ping-Pong, Dinner (twice), Board Games, Arina, Swimming with lightening, Babuska Valeria "Russia USA" fruit cake, One of the best days in Rus
Masha, after ignoring us for 2 weeks, called me out of the blue and asked us to come to her dacha. We called our surgery teacher and canceled class-- we told them we have to go to a girl's dacha-- he said OK. Her dacha is actually a water sport club officially... they had to tell the gov't that so they would be allowed to build their cottage very close to the lake's edge. There are about 10 dachas clumped together. One of the men in this water sport village took us on his inflatable motor boat, one where you sit on the edge, almost falling out. We drove for about 40 mins through this lake, up through some canals and tributaries, and came to a spot where we swam for a bit. The water felt, looked, and tasted surprisingly similar to the Clarion River. But there were russians in this river. We went swimming afterward while dinner was being prepared. Masha wore a g-string, as did all the other girls in the water-sport-dacha-village. Even the older ladies. Sexy. We drank beers, then Masha's mother served us dinner. Chicken, potatoes, russian salad, bread, and something other stuff. Drank wine, champagne. Then played ping pong, and man did Masha school us. I think she beat me 21-2 or something ridiculous. It started raining very hard, thundering and lightening. We went undercover at her dacha. We got out some russian board game but we realized we couldn't play because we couldn't read the russian cards. Arina, a very cute, neighboring twenty-something year old, came over to visit. We decided to just drink and make up our own rules of the game, naturally turning it into a drinking game. And the weather only turned worse.
At one point when I came out of the bathroom, I nearly ran into Masha's father walking in the hallway, and then a loud CRACK! went off, blistering my ear, and Masha's father shouted in broken english, "OY! Hear?! Lightening! Water! CRACK!" I looked at him with wide eyes, and said, "Oy!" he was obviously very excited about the phenomenon of lightening striking a large body of water. As was I, it make a very loud and piercing sound, something I've never heard before.
Anyway we continued drinking, and carrying on for awhile, until Masha's father came over and asked if we could help getting the boat that we were riding earlier out of the lake. Now... it's REALLY raining, thundering and lightening severely, we're naked except for our makeshift swimming trunks, and we're quite tipsy. We run with him around the corner of the dacha to the lake, but we don't see a boat. some older men of the village come walking behind us wearing full rain gear, leading a Jeep that's backing up in reverse with a boat trailer hitched to the back. they back the thing straight into the lake. what the heck?! we quickly realize that the once floating boat has sunken deep into the lake. B, J and I look at each other. Look at the lake. Look at the sky full of lightening. and shake our heads and say/think, "what the hell." despite learning at a young age that it's a terrible idea to be around water when it's lightening, we jump into the water with the other men to help. the men find the sunken boat. somehow pull it onto the trailer. the jeep makes it out of the lake just fine. Masha's mother has come outside and starts yelling something in Russian that would likely translate to, "Boys get out of the water! Quick!" So we did. The boat was safe, and so were we. We laughed our way back to the picnic table.
Later, when we got bored, and the girls have become sufficiently drunk, Masha and Arina wanted to go swimming. The storm had settled by then, but it was still raining a little. You think after our previous adventure into the lake we would have learned... but who would pass up a chance to see two attractive girls in bikini g-strings? Not us. So we agreed. We ran to the lake, it was actually raining a lot harder than we thought. The two girls sprinted into the lake, we walked into the lake a bit more cautiously and then CRACK!, a huge bolt of lightening shot down to the lake. B, J and i all screamed like little girls, and ran as fast as we could to the shore. Meanwhile, the actual girls were giggling, laughing, and splashing water on each other like two toddlers completely unaware of the dangerous situation they've put themselves in. we start yelling "get out of the water! what the heck are you doing?!" the girls give us strange looks like we're being no fun. they grudgingly walk out of the lake slowly while thunder cracks around them. we tried to explain to them that it's really freaking dangerous to swim while it's lightening. i don't think Russians do that whistle, clear the pool thing when a storm comes. just one more factor contributing to the low life expectancy i suppose.
Now, earlier in the day (remember that Masha is our Histology teacher's granddaughter) we make Masha call her grandma, or Babushka. We tell Babushka to come to the Dacha. Babushka obliged surprisingly, anything to please the special American students.; we love it. So we've been expecting Babushka Valeria all day, since about 3pm. But it's now 9pm and she still hasn't showed up. And we have to leave the dacha at about 10pm. Where is she?! Then at about 9:30pm she arrives with her husband, struggling to walk through the rainy and muddy path, carrying like 5 bags of who-knows-what. Turns out, she was late because she had spent the whole day cooking us a huge dinner. She made chicken covered in some sauce, all kinds of fruit, chocolates, 2 kinds of tea she brought, other food i can't remember, and most importantly a Russian fruitcake with "Russia - USA" spelled on the top with berries. It was the most hilarious thing i've seen on a cake, and maybe on anything really. She was so happy to see us, and we were even more happy to see her. We went through multiple rounds of hugs, ate her food, and tried to force her to drink boxed wine. She stole the wine from us, saying we drank too much, and hid it in a cabinet. She scolded Masha for being so drunk, but it didn't seem to bother her that us-guys were intoxicated. I think that we acted more or less intoxicated during histology class so she couldn't tell the difference. Oh yeah, and Masha throughout the whole night started getting closer and closer to me, beginning with an arm around the shoulder, then with a slow dance i initiated, and including secret upper-thigh holds under the picnic table-- the 8th grade style under the lunch-table kind. Oh yeah, she has a really serious boyfriend, from Uzbekistan, the one who break dances, dresses gangsta, said he's planning to buy a gun to protect himself, and would probably kill anyone, literally, if they touched Masha. Despite this threat to my livelihood, my goal was to get one real kiss from her before i left the motherland. And when we separated ways that night, at about midnight on the metro-- I got it. Consider me a dead man.
12pm - Awoke. Met Katya and Nastia at the Red Square for the Formula 1 race. We bought tckts for 2000 rubles, or about 85-90 dollars. Turned out to just be a "show" and not a race at all. We (I) was rather pissed. One real formula 1 race car was there -- I think Nick ... something. 11th in the standings. All the others were just other types of racing -- quite unspectacular. On the bright side, I got to see a Formula One race car, a Moscow race show around the Kremlin, and Drift racers. It was about 85 degrees Fahrenheit, blistering sun, I got burned. The russians thought it was the apocalypse. I sat by Katya on my left & Chris on my right. I flirted with the left. we should have expected the race to only be a show; in moscow, everthing is only for show. fo sho.
5pm - It ended. Went to this Irish pub, official futbol pub. Got the absolute worst steak sandwich of my life. Walked to GUM; now Brett & Acya joined; got creme brulee ice cream-- Katya & I's favorite. Walked to the Moskva Riv. Then to Yolky Palky. Then took Asya home -- but first Katya, we met her parents outside, very nice, father was some Jujitso or Taikido master dressed in a red olympic jumpsuit. google image search russian boxer and that's what he looks like, blonde, blue eyes, 6'4". Ready to kick someone's ass. K. invited us back to her flat another day; We were abruptly uninvited to a flat by a certain other person. Jealously at work.
2am - Bed.
Monday - July 14, 2008
Metro Museum.
Tuesday - July 15, 2008
-Dinner with Tanya and Zoe (both new arrivals from the Pitt abroad program) and their new friend Ryan. We might have scared them with our unabashed Americanism. It's funny to see how we probably were 2 months ago when we first arrived--- mostly just scared out of our minds. Now, we walk and talk with confidence, we know our boundaries.... some would call it arrogance... i like to call it 'getting things done while having fun.' Where else can you scream across a restaurant, "Dyevooska! KLEBBB!" and it be semi-acceptable?
Wednesday - July 16, 2008 - Our 2nd Dacha
Outline -- Masha's Dacha: Boat ride, Ping-Pong, Dinner (twice), Board Games, Arina, Swimming with lightening, Babuska Valeria "Russia USA" fruit cake, One of the best days in Rus
Masha, after ignoring us for 2 weeks, called me out of the blue and asked us to come to her dacha. We called our surgery teacher and canceled class-- we told them we have to go to a girl's dacha-- he said OK. Her dacha is actually a water sport club officially... they had to tell the gov't that so they would be allowed to build their cottage very close to the lake's edge. There are about 10 dachas clumped together. One of the men in this water sport village took us on his inflatable motor boat, one where you sit on the edge, almost falling out. We drove for about 40 mins through this lake, up through some canals and tributaries, and came to a spot where we swam for a bit. The water felt, looked, and tasted surprisingly similar to the Clarion River. But there were russians in this river. We went swimming afterward while dinner was being prepared. Masha wore a g-string, as did all the other girls in the water-sport-dacha-village. Even the older ladies. Sexy. We drank beers, then Masha's mother served us dinner. Chicken, potatoes, russian salad, bread, and something other stuff. Drank wine, champagne. Then played ping pong, and man did Masha school us. I think she beat me 21-2 or something ridiculous. It started raining very hard, thundering and lightening. We went undercover at her dacha. We got out some russian board game but we realized we couldn't play because we couldn't read the russian cards. Arina, a very cute, neighboring twenty-something year old, came over to visit. We decided to just drink and make up our own rules of the game, naturally turning it into a drinking game. And the weather only turned worse.
At one point when I came out of the bathroom, I nearly ran into Masha's father walking in the hallway, and then a loud CRACK! went off, blistering my ear, and Masha's father shouted in broken english, "OY! Hear?! Lightening! Water! CRACK!" I looked at him with wide eyes, and said, "Oy!" he was obviously very excited about the phenomenon of lightening striking a large body of water. As was I, it make a very loud and piercing sound, something I've never heard before.
Anyway we continued drinking, and carrying on for awhile, until Masha's father came over and asked if we could help getting the boat that we were riding earlier out of the lake. Now... it's REALLY raining, thundering and lightening severely, we're naked except for our makeshift swimming trunks, and we're quite tipsy. We run with him around the corner of the dacha to the lake, but we don't see a boat. some older men of the village come walking behind us wearing full rain gear, leading a Jeep that's backing up in reverse with a boat trailer hitched to the back. they back the thing straight into the lake. what the heck?! we quickly realize that the once floating boat has sunken deep into the lake. B, J and I look at each other. Look at the lake. Look at the sky full of lightening. and shake our heads and say/think, "what the hell." despite learning at a young age that it's a terrible idea to be around water when it's lightening, we jump into the water with the other men to help. the men find the sunken boat. somehow pull it onto the trailer. the jeep makes it out of the lake just fine. Masha's mother has come outside and starts yelling something in Russian that would likely translate to, "Boys get out of the water! Quick!" So we did. The boat was safe, and so were we. We laughed our way back to the picnic table.
Later, when we got bored, and the girls have become sufficiently drunk, Masha and Arina wanted to go swimming. The storm had settled by then, but it was still raining a little. You think after our previous adventure into the lake we would have learned... but who would pass up a chance to see two attractive girls in bikini g-strings? Not us. So we agreed. We ran to the lake, it was actually raining a lot harder than we thought. The two girls sprinted into the lake, we walked into the lake a bit more cautiously and then CRACK!, a huge bolt of lightening shot down to the lake. B, J and i all screamed like little girls, and ran as fast as we could to the shore. Meanwhile, the actual girls were giggling, laughing, and splashing water on each other like two toddlers completely unaware of the dangerous situation they've put themselves in. we start yelling "get out of the water! what the heck are you doing?!" the girls give us strange looks like we're being no fun. they grudgingly walk out of the lake slowly while thunder cracks around them. we tried to explain to them that it's really freaking dangerous to swim while it's lightening. i don't think Russians do that whistle, clear the pool thing when a storm comes. just one more factor contributing to the low life expectancy i suppose.
Now, earlier in the day (remember that Masha is our Histology teacher's granddaughter) we make Masha call her grandma, or Babushka. We tell Babushka to come to the Dacha. Babushka obliged surprisingly, anything to please the special American students.; we love it. So we've been expecting Babushka Valeria all day, since about 3pm. But it's now 9pm and she still hasn't showed up. And we have to leave the dacha at about 10pm. Where is she?! Then at about 9:30pm she arrives with her husband, struggling to walk through the rainy and muddy path, carrying like 5 bags of who-knows-what. Turns out, she was late because she had spent the whole day cooking us a huge dinner. She made chicken covered in some sauce, all kinds of fruit, chocolates, 2 kinds of tea she brought, other food i can't remember, and most importantly a Russian fruitcake with "Russia - USA" spelled on the top with berries. It was the most hilarious thing i've seen on a cake, and maybe on anything really. She was so happy to see us, and we were even more happy to see her. We went through multiple rounds of hugs, ate her food, and tried to force her to drink boxed wine. She stole the wine from us, saying we drank too much, and hid it in a cabinet. She scolded Masha for being so drunk, but it didn't seem to bother her that us-guys were intoxicated. I think that we acted more or less intoxicated during histology class so she couldn't tell the difference. Oh yeah, and Masha throughout the whole night started getting closer and closer to me, beginning with an arm around the shoulder, then with a slow dance i initiated, and including secret upper-thigh holds under the picnic table-- the 8th grade style under the lunch-table kind. Oh yeah, she has a really serious boyfriend, from Uzbekistan, the one who break dances, dresses gangsta, said he's planning to buy a gun to protect himself, and would probably kill anyone, literally, if they touched Masha. Despite this threat to my livelihood, my goal was to get one real kiss from her before i left the motherland. And when we separated ways that night, at about midnight on the metro-- I got it. Consider me a dead man.
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
7/6 - 7/12 Surgery Day 1 & Dacha
7/6 - Sunday
Don't remember. But here's a pretty picture I took at Suzdal.
7/7 - Mon
First day of Surgery class. I guess i'll just give you a brief summary of the class, now that i'm writing this two weeks since the day:
We're being taught by Ivan, and his peer Sergei, along with some of their other med student friends Boris, Olga, and Zarina. All are between 21-23 yrs old. Yes, i'm being taught by people my age. The medical system works differently here. You go straight into medical school after high school, starting at year 1. Ivan is a 6th year. Sergei I think 5th, Boris 5th maybe, Olga is 7th, etc. They know more about medicine than us, i guess that's all that matters; but they still aren't very good at teaching us theory. They love teaching us random techniques though. Like laproscopy. But never explain when we'd use it. But we can build a dacha of matches, and play miniature chess endoscopically. We also learned knots for suturing. And we learned how to do a cardiovascular bypass. And other vascular suturing. Parashoot technique. yup. Mostly however, we just make jokes, and talk about russian girls and drink vodka when we do well. Yes, vodka. usually two times a week, after class, we'll have a few shots, eat bread, maybe sausage, it's hilarious. i have video and pictures. somewhere.
Sergei is the most ridiculous. he told us it used to be an old russian medicine joke, back when they used vodka to sterilize surgery, they would say "sterilize, sterilize, sterilize ... cucumber!" We started busting out laughing, because we had no idea what the heck he was talking about. He thought we were laughing at the joke; we weren't.
7/8 - 7/11
These days I didn't write. Therefore, I do not remember. I know we went to a bunch of smaller museums during these days. We also had class each day, Russian history and culture at 8:30 am and Surgery at 1 or 2 pm usually. We were supposed to start rat surgery on Friday but Ivan told us that we'd start the following week. We were growing a bit frustrated. But good things were soon to come. on Friday we did watch Sergei and Boris perform surgery on a rat. They used basically zero sanitation practices. They told us the rat had a good immune system. They removed some necrosis-- some dead tissue -- on its leg. They also clipped the end of its tail that was dead. The rat died i think a couple days later. We'd get our chance soon enough.
7/12 - Sat Day of DACHA!
This day I, we, accomplished the greatest goal so far in our Russian lives. The Dacha. We came, we saw, we conquered, we also swam and ain't some darn good 'ploff.' Gotta love the Dacha life.
A dacha is a summer cottage that Russians use during the warm months of the year, June-Aug. Back during the Soviet times, every citizen was granted a small plot of land outside of the city. Here, the soviet families could relax and tend to their gardens (mostly just supply the city with produce). Now, most of the plots of land have been passed down and still belong to the families. Though, many dachas have been improved since then, beyond a typical soviet cottage. Hence, the dacha. (that's sort of a misconstrued history of the dacha, but "it's good enough for me.")
PHOTO <--- This is Asya.
We had the Morgue in the morning ------ in Russia, the process of donating your body to science is a bit backwards, you must sign a form that says that you DON"T want your body used for science, meaning your body becomes a free play ground for medical students before your burial. weird, maybe. but good for science. We got a fresh one, 1 day old. Irina knows a young Dr. named Nick; he's the guy that takes us. He's a bit weird but very intelligent. We whip this body out; some old guy, and he shows us some wrist surgery. Then we start cutting down his arm; looking at anatomy; his radial nerve, radial artery (where you feel your pulse), muscles, like superficial & deep flexors, other veins, tendons, the whole way up to his armpit; palpating. Nick teaches us how to make sutures. We learn three ways. The cosmetic suture is the most difficult. On the cosmetic he said I did "not terrible, but not good. Medium." We have morgue every Saturday for now on. it is really sweet. I might sound insensitive; maybe i am. But that's Russia speaking. It was very interesting nevertheless; quite weird, eerie even, being that i've never been in a true morgue, especially not a russian morgue. -----------------
So, dacha. Nick held us over; we were supposed to meet Asya at noon. We started at 9am and finished at 1pm. We were an hour late meeting Asya's parents. Along with her parents came Asya's sister, her boyfriend, and two of Asya's (and my) friends-- nastia and Anya. Anya was the orginal russian girl that introduced us to Asya. Nastia is the girl i accidentally made out with; and who subsequently fell in love with me (sort of).
Asya's parents drove us in 2 cars, about 2.5 hrs to the dacha. Their dacha is going through renovations. It was quite big, more of a house than a cottage. We have pictures. Somewhere. We ate dinner when we got there; her dad made 'ploff" which is an awesome rice based dish from Uzbekistan. It was da bomb. Shout out to Jona. Also with pomegranate. We ate handfuls of that stuff. Add cucumber, tomatoes, flat bread, Merlot, some weird lemonade, and a bunch of other stuff i forget, and it was one of the best meals i've had in russia. After dinner, we all went in the car to Borodino. It was the battle site where Napoleon defeated the Russian army on Sept. 7th 1812. Napoleon lead his 'Grand Armee' into the town; lost 30,000 French + 40,000 Russians in 15 hours and Napoleon described it as the "most terrible" of all his battles-- though still claiming victory. In the end, howeer, when Nap. entered Moscow, the Russians burned the city & Nap. was forced to retreat.
The fields at Borodino had sporatic monuments, reminding me of Gettysburg. Why haven't any great PA authors gotten inspiration from those fields like Tolstoy got from Borodino? Oh Tolstoy. I want to read War & Peace. They say that he sat in these fields and wrote parts of War & Peace. Has anyone read it? reply if you have, i'm jealous. Tell me how long it took too, because Nick, the doctor, read it in less than a month while only riding the metro to work. impressive i thought.
We also saw the local monastery built in the 15th? maybe 16th? century. That was a pointless sentence. Tolstoy is rolling over in his grave. and another grave-roll for that follow up cliche.
PHOTO From left: N, Asya, J, Anya
Swimming in this stream in the beautiful Russian country side, when the sun is just setting, was one of the best moments, and most surreal moments i've had in Russia, and maybe in my life. possible overstatement, but probably not, my life's been pretty surreal-less. I really doubt any Americans had ever been in that River. no native English speakers. when we were just about to leave, a couple local teenagers, some preteens, and a Lolita came down to the stream, i said an American "Hey, whatsup!" They all froze, silent, mouths dropped, in shock. i guess they weren't expecting that.
Maybe it wasn't THAT life changing, swimming in that Moscow River tributary, under Monet's bridge, but it sure was cool. something i won't forget.
At least not for the next week, because of all these freaking bug bights...
When we arrived back from our hour long swimming trip down the "Russian road" as Asya called it -- an overgrown path full of jagger-bushes off the side of an old dirt road -- we ate more 'ploff' and drank champagne, tea, while finishing with chocolate cake and more chocolate. Tea and chocolate is great. One thing i'm bringing back to CWA (USA). 9pm came about, and it was time to pack up. As her parents loaded the car, we swung on the old wooden swing Asya's father built when she was very young- when the USSR was still around. It sat 20 feet from the southern dacha wall, where overgrown weeds had succeeded in overshadowing the few beautiful flowers once planted there long ago, neglected, but have continued blooming each year despite the maltreatment. She looked here, in this spot, more Russianly beautiful than ever, with her Russian smile, always stretched farther than a typical smile, gleaming. Oh russia. It sounds like i'm in love with her; i'm not. I'm more in love with them - that is, the Russian girl. "Dyevooshka" or however you would spell it in english. I'm in love with the way a russian girl can smile, and laugh, and mutter out a few words in slow, broken english, then ask me to repeat what i said, "slower please," then giggle, then say something like "What has happened?" because I started laughing at her confusion--- that's what I love to be around everyday here, that's what i may miss when i'm gone.
The swing. We push, pull, jump. The sun always tempting to set, but never does. Like summer Alaska. The bare-wood dacha. The workers on its roof. Workers used lightly; I never saw them do any work on the dacha when I was there. It's really a "grand" place, that dacha. That's what she kept saying. Inside with beautiful wooden floors, wooden walls, ceilings, creating a very homey feel. You can tell they do well for themselves; he's an economist; she's a ... cosmotologist?
So, we leave, parting the girls with the traditional one cheek kiss that we've become so accustomed, followed by a firm handshake with the men (aka Asya's father), and soon enough we were back to the hectic, soviet sprawl of Moscow. A good day.
7/7 - Mon
First day of Surgery class. I guess i'll just give you a brief summary of the class, now that i'm writing this two weeks since the day:
We're being taught by Ivan, and his peer Sergei, along with some of their other med student friends Boris, Olga, and Zarina. All are between 21-23 yrs old. Yes, i'm being taught by people my age. The medical system works differently here. You go straight into medical school after high school, starting at year 1. Ivan is a 6th year. Sergei I think 5th, Boris 5th maybe, Olga is 7th, etc. They know more about medicine than us, i guess that's all that matters; but they still aren't very good at teaching us theory. They love teaching us random techniques though. Like laproscopy. But never explain when we'd use it. But we can build a dacha of matches, and play miniature chess endoscopically. We also learned knots for suturing. And we learned how to do a cardiovascular bypass. And other vascular suturing. Parashoot technique. yup. Mostly however, we just make jokes, and talk about russian girls and drink vodka when we do well. Yes, vodka. usually two times a week, after class, we'll have a few shots, eat bread, maybe sausage, it's hilarious. i have video and pictures. somewhere.
Sergei is the most ridiculous. he told us it used to be an old russian medicine joke, back when they used vodka to sterilize surgery, they would say "sterilize, sterilize, sterilize ... cucumber!" We started busting out laughing, because we had no idea what the heck he was talking about. He thought we were laughing at the joke; we weren't.
7/8 - 7/11
These days I didn't write. Therefore, I do not remember. I know we went to a bunch of smaller museums during these days. We also had class each day, Russian history and culture at 8:30 am and Surgery at 1 or 2 pm usually. We were supposed to start rat surgery on Friday but Ivan told us that we'd start the following week. We were growing a bit frustrated. But good things were soon to come. on Friday we did watch Sergei and Boris perform surgery on a rat. They used basically zero sanitation practices. They told us the rat had a good immune system. They removed some necrosis-- some dead tissue -- on its leg. They also clipped the end of its tail that was dead. The rat died i think a couple days later. We'd get our chance soon enough.
7/12 - Sat Day of DACHA!
This day I, we, accomplished the greatest goal so far in our Russian lives. The Dacha. We came, we saw, we conquered, we also swam and ain't some darn good 'ploff.' Gotta love the Dacha life.
A dacha is a summer cottage that Russians use during the warm months of the year, June-Aug. Back during the Soviet times, every citizen was granted a small plot of land outside of the city. Here, the soviet families could relax and tend to their gardens (mostly just supply the city with produce). Now, most of the plots of land have been passed down and still belong to the families. Though, many dachas have been improved since then, beyond a typical soviet cottage. Hence, the dacha. (that's sort of a misconstrued history of the dacha, but "it's good enough for me.")
Anyway, to us dachas are like camps, for those Western PA people you know what kind of camp i mean, the kind next to the Clarion river maybe?. 
For them it's an escape from the bustling city life of Moscow, just like Clarion's bustling city life. Well, after knowing Asya for 1 week (Anatomoy Anya introduced us), she invited us to her dacha. In fact, her parents weren't even planning to go to the dacha that weekend, but they made a special trip for us. These Russians sure are nice.
For them it's an escape from the bustling city life of Moscow, just like Clarion's bustling city life. Well, after knowing Asya for 1 week (Anatomoy Anya introduced us), she invited us to her dacha. In fact, her parents weren't even planning to go to the dacha that weekend, but they made a special trip for us. These Russians sure are nice.PHOTO <--- This is Asya.
We had the Morgue in the morning ------ in Russia, the process of donating your body to science is a bit backwards, you must sign a form that says that you DON"T want your body used for science, meaning your body becomes a free play ground for medical students before your burial. weird, maybe. but good for science. We got a fresh one, 1 day old. Irina knows a young Dr. named Nick; he's the guy that takes us. He's a bit weird but very intelligent. We whip this body out; some old guy, and he shows us some wrist surgery. Then we start cutting down his arm; looking at anatomy; his radial nerve, radial artery (where you feel your pulse), muscles, like superficial & deep flexors, other veins, tendons, the whole way up to his armpit; palpating. Nick teaches us how to make sutures. We learn three ways. The cosmetic suture is the most difficult. On the cosmetic he said I did "not terrible, but not good. Medium." We have morgue every Saturday for now on. it is really sweet. I might sound insensitive; maybe i am. But that's Russia speaking. It was very interesting nevertheless; quite weird, eerie even, being that i've never been in a true morgue, especially not a russian morgue. -----------------
So, dacha. Nick held us over; we were supposed to meet Asya at noon. We started at 9am and finished at 1pm. We were an hour late meeting Asya's parents. Along with her parents came Asya's sister, her boyfriend, and two of Asya's (and my) friends-- nastia and Anya. Anya was the orginal russian girl that introduced us to Asya. Nastia is the girl i accidentally made out with; and who subsequently fell in love with me (sort of).
Asya's parents drove us in 2 cars, about 2.5 hrs to the dacha. Their dacha is going through renovations. It was quite big, more of a house than a cottage. We have pictures. Somewhere. We ate dinner when we got there; her dad made 'ploff" which is an awesome rice based dish from Uzbekistan. It was da bomb. Shout out to Jona. Also with pomegranate. We ate handfuls of that stuff. Add cucumber, tomatoes, flat bread, Merlot, some weird lemonade, and a bunch of other stuff i forget, and it was one of the best meals i've had in russia. After dinner, we all went in the car to Borodino. It was the battle site where Napoleon defeated the Russian army on Sept. 7th 1812. Napoleon lead his 'Grand Armee' into the town; lost 30,000 French + 40,000 Russians in 15 hours and Napoleon described it as the "most terrible" of all his battles-- though still claiming victory. In the end, howeer, when Nap. entered Moscow, the Russians burned the city & Nap. was forced to retreat.
The fields at Borodino had sporatic monuments, reminding me of Gettysburg. Why haven't any great PA authors gotten inspiration from those fields like Tolstoy got from Borodino? Oh Tolstoy. I want to read War & Peace. They say that he sat in these fields and wrote parts of War & Peace. Has anyone read it? reply if you have, i'm jealous. Tell me how long it took too, because Nick, the doctor, read it in less than a month while only riding the metro to work. impressive i thought.
We also saw the local monastery built in the 15th? maybe 16th? century. That was a pointless sentence. Tolstoy is rolling over in his grave. and another grave-roll for that follow up cliche.
Can you spot which photo is Gettysburg and which is Borodino? (the answer is at the bottome of page 3 )
We drove back to her Dacha, her mom drove that is. I have a short video of the car ride-- when Mambo #5 is playing on repeat on the car stereo. God i can't wait to upload these vids. We went for a walk to see these bridges Asya was raving about --- bridges that look "just like a Monet" she says, with the "flowers in the river." And, well, they did. IT did. We only say one. Minus most of the flowers. I have pictures, but you don't need them, just google Monet. I do have this one poor quality pic of us swimming though. It was a warm day. Finally Russia has broken into summer weather.
J and I (oh i forgot to mention, we're the only two Americans that came on this Dacha trip) convinced Asya to swim with us. She wore a large gray tshirt and underwear. I had my swim trunks. It was hot. in more than one way. Anya swam too, in her normal clothes. it was funny. normal-- they love that word. especially Anya. The water wasn't that cold. it was really refreshing. I dunked Asya under the water a lot. There is video.... on Justin's camcorder. The water actually didn't taste bad either; accidental ingestion "of course."
J and I (oh i forgot to mention, we're the only two Americans that came on this Dacha trip) convinced Asya to swim with us. She wore a large gray tshirt and underwear. I had my swim trunks. It was hot. in more than one way. Anya swam too, in her normal clothes. it was funny. normal-- they love that word. especially Anya. The water wasn't that cold. it was really refreshing. I dunked Asya under the water a lot. There is video.... on Justin's camcorder. The water actually didn't taste bad either; accidental ingestion "of course."PHOTO From left: N, Asya, J, Anya
Swimming in this stream in the beautiful Russian country side, when the sun is just setting, was one of the best moments, and most surreal moments i've had in Russia, and maybe in my life. possible overstatement, but probably not, my life's been pretty surreal-less. I really doubt any Americans had ever been in that River. no native English speakers. when we were just about to leave, a couple local teenagers, some preteens, and a Lolita came down to the stream, i said an American "Hey, whatsup!" They all froze, silent, mouths dropped, in shock. i guess they weren't expecting that.
Maybe it wasn't THAT life changing, swimming in that Moscow River tributary, under Monet's bridge, but it sure was cool. something i won't forget.
At least not for the next week, because of all these freaking bug bights...
When we arrived back from our hour long swimming trip down the "Russian road" as Asya called it -- an overgrown path full of jagger-bushes off the side of an old dirt road -- we ate more 'ploff' and drank champagne, tea, while finishing with chocolate cake and more chocolate. Tea and chocolate is great. One thing i'm bringing back to CWA (USA). 9pm came about, and it was time to pack up. As her parents loaded the car, we swung on the old wooden swing Asya's father built when she was very young- when the USSR was still around. It sat 20 feet from the southern dacha wall, where overgrown weeds had succeeded in overshadowing the few beautiful flowers once planted there long ago, neglected, but have continued blooming each year despite the maltreatment. She looked here, in this spot, more Russianly beautiful than ever, with her Russian smile, always stretched farther than a typical smile, gleaming. Oh russia. It sounds like i'm in love with her; i'm not. I'm more in love with them - that is, the Russian girl. "Dyevooshka" or however you would spell it in english. I'm in love with the way a russian girl can smile, and laugh, and mutter out a few words in slow, broken english, then ask me to repeat what i said, "slower please," then giggle, then say something like "What has happened?" because I started laughing at her confusion--- that's what I love to be around everyday here, that's what i may miss when i'm gone.
So, we leave, parting the girls with the traditional one cheek kiss that we've become so accustomed, followed by a firm handshake with the men (aka Asya's father), and soon enough we were back to the hectic, soviet sprawl of Moscow. A good day.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
7/1 - 7/5
7/1 - Tues
Saint Petersburg:
The darkest hour. Err, 30 mins. Probably at 3:30am i suppose.
(only wear white tees)
-St. Isaac's
-Church of Our Savior
-The Hermitage
- some other famous sites but i forget their names. i have pictures somewhere.
-Boat Ride through the city
-Too many people speaking english...
... but definitely not these people. Maybe the little girl.
-at night: went to 3bars in a row with dancing, playing alternative music -- slightly American, dirty, grungy, but cool -- some short, thin, blonde russian with a nose piercing grabbed me by the shirt, (this was just after she finished making out with some other attractive, dark-haired russian girl) pulled me into her dancing-groin, unbuttoned my shirt, don't worry i was wearing an undershirt, put her hands underneath the back of that undershirt, then rubbed around my waste to the front, her thumbs into my pants, and danced. I had a couple drinks; and all my friends were watching, so i let it happen. it was hilarious. she was cute too... I think? Then she kissed me. It was one of those laugh-kisses, at least on my part. i wasn't even sure if she was conscious at this point. her lips were quite lively, i know that, and her tongue. i tried to calm this crazy russian down, and soon she she did. she started to dance normally, less groping, and i found out she could speak english. She wants to go to America and live in Nashville. She loves Johnny Cash. So on and so on. I talked to her for about 20 mins, once she calmed down from her dancing high. Got her number, and she's coming to Moscow in a few weeks. I told her I'd hang out with her. We'll see.
Ir was with us, she got trashed. B was upset for some reason and yelled "I'm getting a Gypsy Cab back to 'Em-Gay-Oo.'" (MGU is our university-- 9 hr train ride away). Kicked three beer bottles down the street. Ir hailed us all a cab, B got in, I got in, then Ir closed the door. What the heck! she tricked me into taking B back to the hotel. I pressed both of my hands against the cab window, my face smeared, eyes wide in child-like distress. they just laughed. assholes. I dragged B through the doors and put him to bed. Ir, meanwhile, went to eat late night food with J. i'm pissed about it still. i want some gosh darn blini.
7/2 - Wed
This day we went to Peterhov. It is this huge palace that was destroyed by the nazis, but now has been rebuilt. It's based off of Versailles. I have two pics of me at this place, two posts ago.
this is my Russian
All of these fountains are naturally pressurized by gravity. No pumps are used. Very neat. Very wet.
So sometimes, actually all the time, I like taking pictures of everyday Russians-- or not-so-everyday Russians:
heres' a wet Russian. She's fairly typical. Most Russians look like this. But her pose needs work.
.
So here, I tried to photograph the longest and best legs I've ever seen. This picture doesn't nearly come close to fairly representing those god given beauts.
I thought the strangest family on Earth below is worth to note. And their photographer-- bearing Steelers colors, an american flag bandanna, and a kobe bryant jersey-- but definitely not american. barely even human at that.
We didn't want to pass up a chance to swim in the Baltic Sea. So we did. Some of us. The Gulf of Finland to be more specific. The water was actually not very cold.
We also went to another place.... see my memory is failing me, it's been too long. A fort! yes, it was a Fort of sorts. But i'm forgetting all the history. trust me, i know this. just not now.
7/3 - Thurs
We got a train back to Moscow, at like 12am. My first time on a real train, with real cabs, where i can soundly sleep. And i did. All 7.5 hrs. It was "fancy." Ir hung out with us in our cabin. Our, meaning J, B, Dodge, and I. We're starting to become pretty close with Ir.
The day..... I have no recollection.
7/4 - Friday
it's the 4th of july, and we almost forgot. we actually had to be reminded by our new friend Asya. Anya brought her along on a trip to..... i forget. probably Yolky-Palky, a quick russian restaurant. J has an immediate crush on Asya, and i can't blame him, she's cute, intellegent, well-read, and most importantly is only mediocre at english-- the perfect combo.
J and I buy Master and Margarita by Bulgakov. It's really famous if you don't know. And it takes place pretty much all in Moscow. We're going to read it, then do the book tour. You should probably be reading it now too if you haven't already. Masha told me she has read it about 15 times. I'm shooting for one time, then i'll see from there.
7/5 - Sat.
CELEBRATION OF AMERICAN INDEPENDENCE DAY .... in Russia?? Yes.
This day was maybe one of the most hilarious, and unexpectedly FUN days in Russia. (sidenote: Did you know, there is no word for "fun" in russia. No direct translation exists. It's true that there is no fun in Russia.)
This celebration takes place at the Kuskova estate, a huge palace, they love palaces, built by one of the old tsars to have parties and things. It's beautiful there.
FIRST: American football is being played. J and B play football for one of the best D2 football teams in the country and immediately go into a frenzy. Turns out it's flag football. But we still try to make a team. turns out it's organized (as organized as anything Russian can be) but they might let us play because a team didn't show up. these guys look ridiculous. they have no skills whatsoever, and look as good as the 8th grade squad i lead as quarterback to a 0-8 season.
So the guy in charge says to us, "Are you sure you want to play against semi-professionals?" We all bust out laughing in this guys face. The other team ended up showing, so we couldn't play. damn. i was wearing sandals and shorts. it would have been interesting.
The event was disappointingly more Russian than American, despite the week attempts of Americanizing the thing. A cover band playing typical American, trashy, songs did perform on stage during the afternoon. Uncle Sam and the Statue of Liberty were both present, on stilts. Red White And Blue Stage, with stars and stripes.
But it was poorly planned, like all things Russian. HUGE lines of people at the 2 or 3 kiosks selling food.... like 2 hr waits to get a slice of pizza and an over priced beer. Etc.
At around 7pm it started to rain... REALLY rain. We were waiting in a 3 hr line for pizza and beer at the time, and when it rained, the line started to disappear, the pizza became closer to my stomach. I didn't have an umbrella but this very cute russian girl wearing pink converses let me stand under her red umbrella; her mother made her share it with me. turns out, her mother teaches english in a high school-- she was terrible at it too. her daughter wearing the pink converses, katya, was 18 and laughed at anything i said, naturally, like most russian 18 yr olds. When we got to the front of the line, i was soaking wet, we ordered two full pizzas, and about 30 cans of beer. We stood in the middle of the rain at a table, drinking and eating pizza, while all the Russians looked at us like we were completely nuts.
Sidenote: we were acting much more obnoxious this day because it was 4th of July. This was the first time we all wore shorts and shirts with huge English lettering. We tried to be the most American as possible, stereo-typical American that is. We succeeded. The Russians mostly just stared at us, wondering why and how we were managing to have so much fun during such a crappy weather day. It's AMERICA
Saint Petersburg:
The darkest hour. Err, 30 mins. Probably at 3:30am i suppose.
(only wear white tees)
-St. Isaac's
-Church of Our Savior
-The Hermitage
- some other famous sites but i forget their names. i have pictures somewhere.
-Boat Ride through the city
-Too many people speaking english...
... but definitely not these people. Maybe the little girl.Below this paragraph is a nice photo of the Russian "pose" progression; from child (see child in pink) to adolescence (girl in background). Russians LOVE posing. They do it all the time. They aren't embarrassed how foolish they look. Here isn't just a flowerbed, it's a hotbed (ZING!) for russians to strut their best photogenic poses. This is just a mild case of the Russian pose, this photo, usually they are standing on something high in the air, with one leg out maybe, or back arched, kissing the sky, breast thrust forward, maybe finger in the lip, who the heck knows. It's like they see these models on billboards and tv and think it's actually normal. As you can see, the young child in the pink has a longgg way to go. where's the sexiness? What is she-- doing the country crap? her mom was pissed at her performance, i wish she was in the pic to show you.
-at night: went to 3bars in a row with dancing, playing alternative music -- slightly American, dirty, grungy, but cool -- some short, thin, blonde russian with a nose piercing grabbed me by the shirt, (this was just after she finished making out with some other attractive, dark-haired russian girl) pulled me into her dancing-groin, unbuttoned my shirt, don't worry i was wearing an undershirt, put her hands underneath the back of that undershirt, then rubbed around my waste to the front, her thumbs into my pants, and danced. I had a couple drinks; and all my friends were watching, so i let it happen. it was hilarious. she was cute too... I think? Then she kissed me. It was one of those laugh-kisses, at least on my part. i wasn't even sure if she was conscious at this point. her lips were quite lively, i know that, and her tongue. i tried to calm this crazy russian down, and soon she she did. she started to dance normally, less groping, and i found out she could speak english. She wants to go to America and live in Nashville. She loves Johnny Cash. So on and so on. I talked to her for about 20 mins, once she calmed down from her dancing high. Got her number, and she's coming to Moscow in a few weeks. I told her I'd hang out with her. We'll see.
Ir was with us, she got trashed. B was upset for some reason and yelled "I'm getting a Gypsy Cab back to 'Em-Gay-Oo.'" (MGU is our university-- 9 hr train ride away). Kicked three beer bottles down the street. Ir hailed us all a cab, B got in, I got in, then Ir closed the door. What the heck! she tricked me into taking B back to the hotel. I pressed both of my hands against the cab window, my face smeared, eyes wide in child-like distress. they just laughed. assholes. I dragged B through the doors and put him to bed. Ir, meanwhile, went to eat late night food with J. i'm pissed about it still. i want some gosh darn blini.
7/2 - Wed
This day we went to Peterhov. It is this huge palace that was destroyed by the nazis, but now has been rebuilt. It's based off of Versailles. I have two pics of me at this place, two posts ago.
this is my Russian
All of these fountains are naturally pressurized by gravity. No pumps are used. Very neat. Very wet.So sometimes, actually all the time, I like taking pictures of everyday Russians-- or not-so-everyday Russians:
heres' a wet Russian. She's fairly typical. Most Russians look like this. But her pose needs work.
.
So here, I tried to photograph the longest and best legs I've ever seen. This picture doesn't nearly come close to fairly representing those god given beauts.
I thought the strangest family on Earth below is worth to note. And their photographer-- bearing Steelers colors, an american flag bandanna, and a kobe bryant jersey-- but definitely not american. barely even human at that.
We didn't want to pass up a chance to swim in the Baltic Sea. So we did. Some of us. The Gulf of Finland to be more specific. The water was actually not very cold.
We also went to another place.... see my memory is failing me, it's been too long. A fort! yes, it was a Fort of sorts. But i'm forgetting all the history. trust me, i know this. just not now.
7/3 - Thurs
We got a train back to Moscow, at like 12am. My first time on a real train, with real cabs, where i can soundly sleep. And i did. All 7.5 hrs. It was "fancy." Ir hung out with us in our cabin. Our, meaning J, B, Dodge, and I. We're starting to become pretty close with Ir.
The day..... I have no recollection.
7/4 - Friday
it's the 4th of july, and we almost forgot. we actually had to be reminded by our new friend Asya. Anya brought her along on a trip to..... i forget. probably Yolky-Palky, a quick russian restaurant. J has an immediate crush on Asya, and i can't blame him, she's cute, intellegent, well-read, and most importantly is only mediocre at english-- the perfect combo.
J and I buy Master and Margarita by Bulgakov. It's really famous if you don't know. And it takes place pretty much all in Moscow. We're going to read it, then do the book tour. You should probably be reading it now too if you haven't already. Masha told me she has read it about 15 times. I'm shooting for one time, then i'll see from there.
7/5 - Sat.
CELEBRATION OF AMERICAN INDEPENDENCE DAY .... in Russia?? Yes.
This day was maybe one of the most hilarious, and unexpectedly FUN days in Russia. (sidenote: Did you know, there is no word for "fun" in russia. No direct translation exists. It's true that there is no fun in Russia.)
This celebration takes place at the Kuskova estate, a huge palace, they love palaces, built by one of the old tsars to have parties and things. It's beautiful there.
FIRST: American football is being played. J and B play football for one of the best D2 football teams in the country and immediately go into a frenzy. Turns out it's flag football. But we still try to make a team. turns out it's organized (as organized as anything Russian can be) but they might let us play because a team didn't show up. these guys look ridiculous. they have no skills whatsoever, and look as good as the 8th grade squad i lead as quarterback to a 0-8 season.
So the guy in charge says to us, "Are you sure you want to play against semi-professionals?" We all bust out laughing in this guys face. The other team ended up showing, so we couldn't play. damn. i was wearing sandals and shorts. it would have been interesting.
The event was disappointingly more Russian than American, despite the week attempts of Americanizing the thing. A cover band playing typical American, trashy, songs did perform on stage during the afternoon. Uncle Sam and the Statue of Liberty were both present, on stilts. Red White And Blue Stage, with stars and stripes.
But it was poorly planned, like all things Russian. HUGE lines of people at the 2 or 3 kiosks selling food.... like 2 hr waits to get a slice of pizza and an over priced beer. Etc.
At around 7pm it started to rain... REALLY rain. We were waiting in a 3 hr line for pizza and beer at the time, and when it rained, the line started to disappear, the pizza became closer to my stomach. I didn't have an umbrella but this very cute russian girl wearing pink converses let me stand under her red umbrella; her mother made her share it with me. turns out, her mother teaches english in a high school-- she was terrible at it too. her daughter wearing the pink converses, katya, was 18 and laughed at anything i said, naturally, like most russian 18 yr olds. When we got to the front of the line, i was soaking wet, we ordered two full pizzas, and about 30 cans of beer. We stood in the middle of the rain at a table, drinking and eating pizza, while all the Russians looked at us like we were completely nuts.
Sidenote: we were acting much more obnoxious this day because it was 4th of July. This was the first time we all wore shorts and shirts with huge English lettering. We tried to be the most American as possible, stereo-typical American that is. We succeeded. The Russians mostly just stared at us, wondering why and how we were managing to have so much fun during such a crappy weather day. It's AMERICA
Monday, August 4, 2008
Home
I fell in love with a girl-- a Russian. Mission Accomplished.
____________________________________________
I kept a literal log of events, more-or-less, for the past month that i will transfer to this absurd inefficiency called an internet blog; it will be done soon enough-- that is, if you're even interested-- likely you're not, but if you were clever and not so namby-pamby, you'd check back hourly.
____________________________________________
I kept a literal log of events, more-or-less, for the past month that i will transfer to this absurd inefficiency called an internet blog; it will be done soon enough-- that is, if you're even interested-- likely you're not, but if you were clever and not so namby-pamby, you'd check back hourly.
Monday, July 7, 2008
6/21 - 6/30
I've been ignoring this and you. Sorry. So much stuff.
6/21 - Sat.
Dinner at Masha's flat. She made us really good rice with vegetables. She showed us her father's collection of Nazi swords and sexy pics of her on the Russian version of facebook. Weird --- yes. But awesome. She has a boyfriend who dances for a hip hop group. He's suppsed to be buying a gun soon. She said he'd kill us and her if he knew we were at her flat. Oh, she also went to a movie with us earlier in the day. She's promised a trip to her dacha, where we will drink and go wind surfing. We'll see if it happens. She had a keychain on her mobile and after asking her what's on her phone she said,"It's the cat in the cow."
6/22 - Sun
Went to the Kuskovo Estate. A huge palace that looks like the set of some romance movie taking place in the 18th century.
6/23 - Mon
Went to Gorky Park. It's pretty famous. It's like a really crappy, soviet esque version of Kenny wood. We rode the Byron, it's an original space shuttle that the soviets were planning on putting into space. But now it's a ride for small children. J and I went on it. LIke idiots. Cost only 7 dollars! We got in there, threw some privets out to the cute girls dressed in rainbow outfits, and sat in our seats. We thought the seats would shake during takeoff.... but nothing. Then when the screen showed us in outer space, the girls in the rainbows came around and manually shook our seats..... no hydrolics.... just two girls pushing and pulling our seats to simulate zero gravity. We completely lost it. I couldn't stop laughing for 10 mins. The most we've laughed since we've been here. 7 dollars was def. worth it. Oh Russia.
6/24 - Tue
Went to Lenin's Tomb. It was pretty cool. I"ve never seen a preserved dead body that is also that important in history. In case you didn't know this guy died in 1924. And they have his body completely preserved and on display. He looks like an inflated doll. Rumour has it that it's not even real. They love Lenin here.
6/25 - Wed.
Went to St. Basils..... you know that really really famous cathedral, that looks like it should belong in Disney World or on top of a cupcake? The inside was really cool.
We went to the Natural History Museum afterwards. Not as cool.
We went to one of the oldest streets in Moscow. Don't ask me the name. Lots of very old cathedrals. Cathedrals, Shmedrals.... now i know what L. Lehe was talking about in that highly controversial Pitt News article about how much he hates cathedrals. I'm starting to develop and aversion as well--- but never towards ones that are "of Learning." Lou, you could have saved so much hate mail if you mentioned that.
That night, we accomplish one of my goals. We stay overnight at a flat. It's Anatomy Anna's flat. We met her at the medical academy. Her mother wasn't home that night so she said we could come over. Well, we basically invited ourselves. We got there at like midnight. WE used her free internet a lot. Watched a bit of a movie. And ordered pizza. Two larges-- came to about $45. Don't you love Moscow prices? I do. I shared her mothers bed with B, while Dodge slept on a reindeer hide. Yes, not kidding. J slept in Anna's top bunk. The whole apartment had two bedrooms, 1 kitchen, and 1 bath. It's weird that these flats don't have any common areas, not even a place to eat together. There seems to be a huge void concerning family values in Moscow. Doesn't really exist. And it's rare for anyone to have siblings.
6/26 - Thu
Tried to get into the Armory. But it's Russia and things are disorganized and we couldn't get tickets even though we were there for hours. So, we went to a nearby exhibit of a very new Russian artist. Anatomy Anna and her friend Nastia came along. Later we find out they came because they each have a crush on one of us. One on Dodge. One of Me. The exhibit was a lot of flowers and girly landscapes.
That night was the Russia vs. Spain soccer match. Oh, it's the Eurocup. And it's VERY big here. Last game, when Russia beat the Netherlands, people were riding on top of cars down the street carrying flags, etc. So this game is even bigger, because if they win, then Russia goes to the Championship --- the final game. And Russia hasn't done that, maybe ever? We (J, B, Dodge, C, and I) watch the game with Anatomy Anna and Nastia as some bar that serves pizza. We all buy Russian soccer gear. I drop 40 bucks on a shirt. it's sweet though. we borrow some guys face paint. paint flags on our cheeks. yeah, we're girls. we can't find real flags though. i find a guy in the bar, and he says, in russian, that i can have his flag if Russia loses. Well at half time, it's tied at 0-0. Then the second half, Russia sucks. We end up losing 3-0. But hey, now i got a russian flag. ANd now i look really russian.
Towards the end of the game, Nastia, the 17 yr old, started flirting with me harder. Whatever, she's a cute russian blonde. We end up going to a dance club afterwards and she kisses me. 2nd russian kiss. but still no marriages.
6/27 - Friday
Went to the State Tetyakov Gallery. The largest fine arts museum in Moscow, and largest collection of Russian art. It was pretty darn big. Saw a lot of cool artwork. I'm so artsy. and so cultured.
6/28 - Sat.
Excursion to Vladimir and Suzdal. Vlad used to be the old capitol of moscow. Suzdal is just some old town. Both about 4hrs from Moscow. Vlad was a bit boring, just old buildings. Suzdal was old buildings, but they were cooler. We ended up missing our train at Vladimir departuring back to moscow, so we got a new one at 2am. Soooooooooooo, we went to a dance club. It was kind of lame, until we went upstairs. And then our coordinator, Ir, joined us in dancing. This is the first time she's drank with us and first she's danced. And damn, she was good.
Finally it was time to go. We're walking home and some short russian starts following us. then he starts saying random things angryly. then he starts yelling "GO HOME YANKEES!" I mean, i don't really like the yankees myself personally either, so i thought i'd get along with this guy, but then i realized he didn't mean Derrick Jeter. He didn't like me. Or the the 6 other guys and 3 girls in my group. Well 2 girls. One was Ir. So we ignored him. Kept walking. Didn't turn around. Didn't do anything. HE started getting closer. Then he started touching us. Started pushing us in the back. First B. Then J. Then me. But we kept our cool, and kept walking. TOld him "Go away. Leave." He kept getting more angry and more violent. Pushed J pretty hard in the back, J had enough and pushed back with one arm. The drunkard fell over on the ground. He stood back up. Swung for C, hit him in the throat, but barely hurt him. C didn't fight back. IT wasn't worth it. We kept walking. Then the guy kicks B. Right between the legs. Ok. it's time we kill this guy. WE're on a dark street. no one around. B swings a right hander and lands it on his left temporal lobe. the guy felt that one. before anything else could be done, a russian police car pulls up. two officers get out of the car holding automatic rifles. we might die.
our coordinator, Ir, goes up to them immediately and says something in russian. they take the drunk russian and throw him in the cop car all while he's still screaming "GO HOME YANKEES!"
This was the first case of anti-american, anti-foriegner in general, that has happened to us. We were told later that was because it was Vladimir. Moscow deals with foreigners much better.
6/29 - Sun.
Cathedral of Christ Our Savior. I got in;looked at the magnificent ceiling;said I got to take a picture of this; I did; got escorted out by some guy in a suit. Guess i wasn't allowed to do that. The 2 min tour was pretty sweet though.
6/30 - Mon.
Last day of Histology. It's our final. It consists of: 1. pick out your favorite microscop slide 1. tell me what you know about it. It was so easy. We all got 5's, which is an A. Took about 3 mins each to complete. The class was a joke. The last day of class, we convinced our teacher to end about 2 hrs early so we could go eat chocolate, drink tea, and eat whatever snack she baked us. Her granddaughter Masha (the one whose flat we visited first) came, i have an awesome video of us bugging our Babushka about when is she coming. I will try to upload.
This evening we got on the bus to St. Petersburg. It was about a 14 hr bus ride. On the crappiest, oldest, dirtiest bus you could ever imagine. with the smelliest people you can ever imagine. so uncomfortable. and we only traveled about 300 miles. 14hrs....300 miles..... you do the math. we went about 15 mi/hr on avg. the worst ride of my life. but we go to St. Petersburg..... at 8am the next day.
_______________________________________________________
6/21 - Sat.
Dinner at Masha's flat. She made us really good rice with vegetables. She showed us her father's collection of Nazi swords and sexy pics of her on the Russian version of facebook. Weird --- yes. But awesome. She has a boyfriend who dances for a hip hop group. He's suppsed to be buying a gun soon. She said he'd kill us and her if he knew we were at her flat. Oh, she also went to a movie with us earlier in the day. She's promised a trip to her dacha, where we will drink and go wind surfing. We'll see if it happens. She had a keychain on her mobile and after asking her what's on her phone she said,"It's the cat in the cow."
6/22 - Sun
Went to the Kuskovo Estate. A huge palace that looks like the set of some romance movie taking place in the 18th century.
6/23 - Mon
Went to Gorky Park. It's pretty famous. It's like a really crappy, soviet esque version of Kenny wood. We rode the Byron, it's an original space shuttle that the soviets were planning on putting into space. But now it's a ride for small children. J and I went on it. LIke idiots. Cost only 7 dollars! We got in there, threw some privets out to the cute girls dressed in rainbow outfits, and sat in our seats. We thought the seats would shake during takeoff.... but nothing. Then when the screen showed us in outer space, the girls in the rainbows came around and manually shook our seats..... no hydrolics.... just two girls pushing and pulling our seats to simulate zero gravity. We completely lost it. I couldn't stop laughing for 10 mins. The most we've laughed since we've been here. 7 dollars was def. worth it. Oh Russia.
6/24 - Tue
Went to Lenin's Tomb. It was pretty cool. I"ve never seen a preserved dead body that is also that important in history. In case you didn't know this guy died in 1924. And they have his body completely preserved and on display. He looks like an inflated doll. Rumour has it that it's not even real. They love Lenin here.
6/25 - Wed.
Went to St. Basils..... you know that really really famous cathedral, that looks like it should belong in Disney World or on top of a cupcake? The inside was really cool.
We went to the Natural History Museum afterwards. Not as cool.
We went to one of the oldest streets in Moscow. Don't ask me the name. Lots of very old cathedrals. Cathedrals, Shmedrals.... now i know what L. Lehe was talking about in that highly controversial Pitt News article about how much he hates cathedrals. I'm starting to develop and aversion as well--- but never towards ones that are "of Learning." Lou, you could have saved so much hate mail if you mentioned that.
That night, we accomplish one of my goals. We stay overnight at a flat. It's Anatomy Anna's flat. We met her at the medical academy. Her mother wasn't home that night so she said we could come over. Well, we basically invited ourselves. We got there at like midnight. WE used her free internet a lot. Watched a bit of a movie. And ordered pizza. Two larges-- came to about $45. Don't you love Moscow prices? I do. I shared her mothers bed with B, while Dodge slept on a reindeer hide. Yes, not kidding. J slept in Anna's top bunk. The whole apartment had two bedrooms, 1 kitchen, and 1 bath. It's weird that these flats don't have any common areas, not even a place to eat together. There seems to be a huge void concerning family values in Moscow. Doesn't really exist. And it's rare for anyone to have siblings.
6/26 - Thu
Tried to get into the Armory. But it's Russia and things are disorganized and we couldn't get tickets even though we were there for hours. So, we went to a nearby exhibit of a very new Russian artist. Anatomy Anna and her friend Nastia came along. Later we find out they came because they each have a crush on one of us. One on Dodge. One of Me. The exhibit was a lot of flowers and girly landscapes.
That night was the Russia vs. Spain soccer match. Oh, it's the Eurocup. And it's VERY big here. Last game, when Russia beat the Netherlands, people were riding on top of cars down the street carrying flags, etc. So this game is even bigger, because if they win, then Russia goes to the Championship --- the final game. And Russia hasn't done that, maybe ever? We (J, B, Dodge, C, and I) watch the game with Anatomy Anna and Nastia as some bar that serves pizza. We all buy Russian soccer gear. I drop 40 bucks on a shirt. it's sweet though. we borrow some guys face paint. paint flags on our cheeks. yeah, we're girls. we can't find real flags though. i find a guy in the bar, and he says, in russian, that i can have his flag if Russia loses. Well at half time, it's tied at 0-0. Then the second half, Russia sucks. We end up losing 3-0. But hey, now i got a russian flag. ANd now i look really russian.
Towards the end of the game, Nastia, the 17 yr old, started flirting with me harder. Whatever, she's a cute russian blonde. We end up going to a dance club afterwards and she kisses me. 2nd russian kiss. but still no marriages.
6/27 - Friday
Went to the State Tetyakov Gallery. The largest fine arts museum in Moscow, and largest collection of Russian art. It was pretty darn big. Saw a lot of cool artwork. I'm so artsy. and so cultured.
6/28 - Sat.
Excursion to Vladimir and Suzdal. Vlad used to be the old capitol of moscow. Suzdal is just some old town. Both about 4hrs from Moscow. Vlad was a bit boring, just old buildings. Suzdal was old buildings, but they were cooler. We ended up missing our train at Vladimir departuring back to moscow, so we got a new one at 2am. Soooooooooooo, we went to a dance club. It was kind of lame, until we went upstairs. And then our coordinator, Ir, joined us in dancing. This is the first time she's drank with us and first she's danced. And damn, she was good.
Finally it was time to go. We're walking home and some short russian starts following us. then he starts saying random things angryly. then he starts yelling "GO HOME YANKEES!" I mean, i don't really like the yankees myself personally either, so i thought i'd get along with this guy, but then i realized he didn't mean Derrick Jeter. He didn't like me. Or the the 6 other guys and 3 girls in my group. Well 2 girls. One was Ir. So we ignored him. Kept walking. Didn't turn around. Didn't do anything. HE started getting closer. Then he started touching us. Started pushing us in the back. First B. Then J. Then me. But we kept our cool, and kept walking. TOld him "Go away. Leave." He kept getting more angry and more violent. Pushed J pretty hard in the back, J had enough and pushed back with one arm. The drunkard fell over on the ground. He stood back up. Swung for C, hit him in the throat, but barely hurt him. C didn't fight back. IT wasn't worth it. We kept walking. Then the guy kicks B. Right between the legs. Ok. it's time we kill this guy. WE're on a dark street. no one around. B swings a right hander and lands it on his left temporal lobe. the guy felt that one. before anything else could be done, a russian police car pulls up. two officers get out of the car holding automatic rifles. we might die.
our coordinator, Ir, goes up to them immediately and says something in russian. they take the drunk russian and throw him in the cop car all while he's still screaming "GO HOME YANKEES!"
This was the first case of anti-american, anti-foriegner in general, that has happened to us. We were told later that was because it was Vladimir. Moscow deals with foreigners much better.
6/29 - Sun.
Cathedral of Christ Our Savior. I got in;looked at the magnificent ceiling;said I got to take a picture of this; I did; got escorted out by some guy in a suit. Guess i wasn't allowed to do that. The 2 min tour was pretty sweet though.
6/30 - Mon.
Last day of Histology. It's our final. It consists of: 1. pick out your favorite microscop slide 1. tell me what you know about it. It was so easy. We all got 5's, which is an A. Took about 3 mins each to complete. The class was a joke. The last day of class, we convinced our teacher to end about 2 hrs early so we could go eat chocolate, drink tea, and eat whatever snack she baked us. Her granddaughter Masha (the one whose flat we visited first) came, i have an awesome video of us bugging our Babushka about when is she coming. I will try to upload.
This evening we got on the bus to St. Petersburg. It was about a 14 hr bus ride. On the crappiest, oldest, dirtiest bus you could ever imagine. with the smelliest people you can ever imagine. so uncomfortable. and we only traveled about 300 miles. 14hrs....300 miles..... you do the math. we went about 15 mi/hr on avg. the worst ride of my life. but we go to St. Petersburg..... at 8am the next day.
_______________________________________________________
Saturday, July 5, 2008
Sunday, June 22, 2008
three stories
Wow, i feel like crap. It's 7:30pm and i still feel hungover. This past week has been a blur, well actually, this whole trip has been one. not because i'm drunk all the time, but because time flyyyyyyys in moscow. Ok, so here are some ridiculously awesome updates:
STORY #1 - Russians can be very nice
So last week after I left the Puskin museum, I realized i lost my Russian Nokia phone in there somewhere. So i spent an hour trying to talk to these Babuskas in English about how i lost my phone. I couldn't understand a single word they were saying, but they were very nice to me. I gave them my friend-who-can-speak-russian's number and they were going to call me if they found it. I had J text my lost phone from his phone, saying, "please call this number if you find this phone." An hour later, the museum called my-friend-who-can-speak-russian and told her that the museum has my phone. and i was supposed to pick it up the next day at 10am. "The workers have it,"the museum admin. supposedly told me friend.
Two hours a later a Russian woman called J. He gave me the phone. "Hello?" she says.
"Yes?" I say.
"I have your phone..." blah blah blah. Anyway, she told me to meet her at some random metro stop the next day at noon. and that was all. no name. no nothing. The next day i go to the metro stop and she arrives about 25 mins, but with my phone nevertheless.
"Is that you in the purple dress stranding right in front of me?" I say. She hangs up and smiles. "Thank you so so so much," i say.
"Oh oh, don't worry," she laughs,"Welcome to Moscow." And without a chance to say another word, she runs down the metro steps and barely catches the train. It was bizarre. And awesome. People say how rude and impolite Russians and Muscovites are, but this 30 year old lady in the purple dress showed me that that's not all too true. Not sure if someone in Pittsburgh would do that for me. I know that I probably wouldn't. But you already know that.
STORY #2 - My First Russian Date
It never happened. Shucks, darn, you really wanted some juice, huh? She didn't answer my phone call or text an 3 hours before we were supposed to meet. So i didn't go to the metro stop because i thought something went wrong or she might not be able to make it. Finally, when we were supposed to meet, she called me. She told me that it was raining and the exhibit we were supposed to go see was outside. She said maybe the next weekend we could do something. And just like that, she hung up. I barely got a chance to say a word. Whelp, that sucks.
B DID succeed on a date. He met this girl named Daria at the club Propaganda when he was quite plastered. So this date he went on was pretty much a blind date; he had very little recollection of what she looked like. Apparently, it went well, and she was very nice. But I guess B didn't want to continue this dating thing with her. (Oh by the way, we nicknamed her "Big Girl" because she was huge. Seriously, like 6'2''. So anyway, the story continues.... so Big Girl texts B last night, and she wants to go out and do something. B makes up some story about how he is busy with something else and can't go out tonight. Welll welll welll that wasn't a good idea. Because when we go to the club, there was Big Girl, dancing like only a russian would be, by herself, living it up, in the heart of mosco.w. J and I immediately bust out into severe laughter; B runs to the bathroom to hide. He eventually comes out and tries to avoid Big Girl all night. Well, see, this club isn't that big, and it's all open in the inside, so very little space for hiding. So when i'm on the dancefloor later in the night, she recognizes me and says hi, then B appears out of nowhere, and her face straightens. Damn, she was pissed. She says something angryly to him, grabs him by the wrist, and drags him off the dancefloor. It was so hilarious. that's all i know.
Story #3 - Anna the Moscow Medical Academy Freshman
So one day during Anatomy, we're screwing around in the Anatomy Museum like usual. A young, light skinned, tall, Russian girl approaches me and says something in Russian. I look at her blankly, and stutter,"Ya ne-govoroo pa-rooski."
She says, "oh, can i borrow your pen?"
I laugh and say yeah. The next day she's back, and in the same place as the day before. I quietly smile at her, and she does the same. The third day, she's there again! I smile at her, she smiles back. So J says, "Man, we need to go talk to this girl." So he does. and i follow.
We find out her name is Anna, she's a freshman (1st course as they say in russia) and she has to pass her anatomy exam next week or she will be in big trouble (note: my anatomy class ended a couple of days ago, and we never had an exam. haha, such a joke). To make a long story short, we talk to her for a long time, she starts bringing us treats into school each day, exchange numbers, and flirt a lot. Though we're not sure which one of us she likes. On this past Friday, we met her after class and she introduced us to her friend (forget name right now). We went to a russian cafe and drank some pivo (beer). This friend of hers was ridiculous. The loudest and obnoxious russian girl i've ever met. I loved it. Oh, AND this girl lives near us and knows where we can order Pizza-- my absolute favorite thing about life. So, Tak, Snatchet, So, Anna says that we can come to her apartment this Tues. after her exam and eat pizza. This is awesome, because we've yet to see a Russian flat. Last night, she told us that her guinea pig died. she was very upset.
Story #4 - The Adventures with Masha (the girl who might help me succeed in dying in russia)
Sorry, but I have to save this story for later, it's still unfolding; short version: My Histology teacher's grandaughter (Masha) may be trying to have a relationship with me--- oh, and she has a thug boyfriend, who dances in a hip hop group, who, as she explains,"will kill you if he sees you with me." We went to the movies, went to her flat, went to the grocery mart, she cooked me dinner, i've seen her bedroom (not what you think).
(This pic is in histology class. Take notice to how ghetto the microscopes are. They use reflecting mirrors.... freaking mirrors... It's a joke.)
STORY #1 - Russians can be very nice
So last week after I left the Puskin museum, I realized i lost my Russian Nokia phone in there somewhere. So i spent an hour trying to talk to these Babuskas in English about how i lost my phone. I couldn't understand a single word they were saying, but they were very nice to me. I gave them my friend-who-can-speak-russian's number and they were going to call me if they found it. I had J text my lost phone from his phone, saying, "please call this number if you find this phone." An hour later, the museum called my-friend-who-can-speak-russian and told her that the museum has my phone. and i was supposed to pick it up the next day at 10am. "The workers have it,"the museum admin. supposedly told me friend.
Two hours a later a Russian woman called J. He gave me the phone. "Hello?" she says.
"Yes?" I say.
"I have your phone..." blah blah blah. Anyway, she told me to meet her at some random metro stop the next day at noon. and that was all. no name. no nothing. The next day i go to the metro stop and she arrives about 25 mins, but with my phone nevertheless.
"Is that you in the purple dress stranding right in front of me?" I say. She hangs up and smiles. "Thank you so so so much," i say.
"Oh oh, don't worry," she laughs,"Welcome to Moscow." And without a chance to say another word, she runs down the metro steps and barely catches the train. It was bizarre. And awesome. People say how rude and impolite Russians and Muscovites are, but this 30 year old lady in the purple dress showed me that that's not all too true. Not sure if someone in Pittsburgh would do that for me. I know that I probably wouldn't. But you already know that.
STORY #2 - My First Russian Date
It never happened. Shucks, darn, you really wanted some juice, huh? She didn't answer my phone call or text an 3 hours before we were supposed to meet. So i didn't go to the metro stop because i thought something went wrong or she might not be able to make it. Finally, when we were supposed to meet, she called me. She told me that it was raining and the exhibit we were supposed to go see was outside. She said maybe the next weekend we could do something. And just like that, she hung up. I barely got a chance to say a word. Whelp, that sucks.
B DID succeed on a date. He met this girl named Daria at the club Propaganda when he was quite plastered. So this date he went on was pretty much a blind date; he had very little recollection of what she looked like. Apparently, it went well, and she was very nice. But I guess B didn't want to continue this dating thing with her. (Oh by the way, we nicknamed her "Big Girl" because she was huge. Seriously, like 6'2''. So anyway, the story continues.... so Big Girl texts B last night, and she wants to go out and do something. B makes up some story about how he is busy with something else and can't go out tonight. Welll welll welll that wasn't a good idea. Because when we go to the club, there was Big Girl, dancing like only a russian would be, by herself, living it up, in the heart of mosco.w. J and I immediately bust out into severe laughter; B runs to the bathroom to hide. He eventually comes out and tries to avoid Big Girl all night. Well, see, this club isn't that big, and it's all open in the inside, so very little space for hiding. So when i'm on the dancefloor later in the night, she recognizes me and says hi, then B appears out of nowhere, and her face straightens. Damn, she was pissed. She says something angryly to him, grabs him by the wrist, and drags him off the dancefloor. It was so hilarious. that's all i know.
Story #3 - Anna the Moscow Medical Academy Freshman
So one day during Anatomy, we're screwing around in the Anatomy Museum like usual. A young, light skinned, tall, Russian girl approaches me and says something in Russian. I look at her blankly, and stutter,"Ya ne-govoroo pa-rooski."
She says, "oh, can i borrow your pen?"
I laugh and say yeah. The next day she's back, and in the same place as the day before. I quietly smile at her, and she does the same. The third day, she's there again! I smile at her, she smiles back. So J says, "Man, we need to go talk to this girl." So he does. and i follow.
We find out her name is Anna, she's a freshman (1st course as they say in russia) and she has to pass her anatomy exam next week or she will be in big trouble (note: my anatomy class ended a couple of days ago, and we never had an exam. haha, such a joke). To make a long story short, we talk to her for a long time, she starts bringing us treats into school each day, exchange numbers, and flirt a lot. Though we're not sure which one of us she likes. On this past Friday, we met her after class and she introduced us to her friend (forget name right now). We went to a russian cafe and drank some pivo (beer). This friend of hers was ridiculous. The loudest and obnoxious russian girl i've ever met. I loved it. Oh, AND this girl lives near us and knows where we can order Pizza-- my absolute favorite thing about life. So, Tak, Snatchet, So, Anna says that we can come to her apartment this Tues. after her exam and eat pizza. This is awesome, because we've yet to see a Russian flat. Last night, she told us that her guinea pig died. she was very upset.
Story #4 - The Adventures with Masha (the girl who might help me succeed in dying in russia)
Sorry, but I have to save this story for later, it's still unfolding; short version: My Histology teacher's grandaughter (Masha) may be trying to have a relationship with me--- oh, and she has a thug boyfriend, who dances in a hip hop group, who, as she explains,"will kill you if he sees you with me." We went to the movies, went to her flat, went to the grocery mart, she cooked me dinner, i've seen her bedroom (not what you think).
(This pic is in histology class. Take notice to how ghetto the microscopes are. They use reflecting mirrors.... freaking mirrors... It's a joke.)
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Friday, June 13, 2008
Of Course! Lip Tattoo
^[This blog is part memory, part journal, part life. Hence, the posted times per entry are accurate and the events are real. More or less.]
^^[Muscovite: One who was born and lives in the Russian city of Moscow.]
08/6/08
15:00 Russians love Japanese crap. (See Kremlin temporary exhibit)
15:02 Somethings about last night: J didn't make it; vomited in metro while going home. We found a Pizza Hut;Russians give confusing directions; Got rejected by Fabrique like 8 times; Face-control sucks[1]. Zebras are crosswalks-- that's what they call them. funny eh?
Amanda XXXXXX**
XXX-XXX-XXXX
Tallahasee, FL[2]
10/6/08
[Complicated map drawn by Maria should go here. I can't draw it on this blog. It details the location of "Fridays," yes, TGIF Fridays, a Russian favorite, as well as two bar/clubs.]
NAMCO3
-1 spoon small
+500 ml KeRUP [or something like that]
+1 egg
+flour[3]
Thursday 12/6/08 DAY OF RUSSIA
14:45 I'm on metro to Red Sq. Last night: Propaganda[4]; too many drinks, not enough $; Tasha & Tasha[5] -- Red Dress -- B may have found a GF; Then Kate & ______; got K's # but don't think she was cute; Tasha #2 was very cute but had a bf. XXXX and J made out in the middle of the dance floor for what seemed to be hours. T puked in the cab. We left later than them at 5:50am, went to Makdonalds -- disgusting I know. With C, J, and Amy now. Dodge is @ Red Square already. Plan to get some russian wear this weekend.
13/6/08
16:48 Here I am, resting on a black leather bench in the Puskin Museum of fine arts. I'm about half way through, a lot of egyptian artifacts, quite impressive, a lot of famous sculptures that have been cast, so they're fake, but still cool. I really enjoyed seeing the Old Man painting by Rembrandt; his work is incredible, blows me away.
Facebook name:
Tania XXXX
phone: 8 910-XXXXXXX
Somethings about last night: Well, above is my first Russian love. Well not love, but Kiss? Make out? She kissed me to be specific. It was on the dancefloor of B2, another rooskie club. I know I know, making out on the dancefloor is trashy, but making out on a russian dancefloor? well that's just sweet. She had dark hair, about 5'3" with the face of BGresc; meaning a very russian face. Getting to the club was near accident. We got rejected from Che first, we needed reservations, then Grafit 33, where i was supposed to be meeting my girl "snake bite nora," was too expensive (about 40 bucks a person), so we found B2. I actually saw this girl on the empty metro before we even got there, we followed her up the escalator even, just so happened they were going to the same place, ergo, hence, the first line i would say to her had been created. Tania & Anastasia, those were their names. Both were out of school and now are translators or something. Tania went to school in Montreal so she spoke very good english. The other spoke barely any, just french and russian. T texted me today, we'll see what happens. Oh, she told me that mullets are everywhere b/c a singer that won Europe's American Idol had one.
Sat. 14/6/08
[Nothing Written][6]
_______________________________________________________________
1. Imagine a 6 foot Rooski with blonde hair, slim, and wearing cool rooski clothes, aka all black with pointy shoes and one article of something white, standing at the door, surrounded by 4 big fat rooskis, and he looks at your face then down to you toes and back up again, only to say "not tonight." B tried to bribe him with about 50 bucks. That didn't work.
2. Most entries that look like this are phone numbers and other contact info i get from Muscovites^^. But sometimes they are from Florida and live across the hall.
3. My substitute Histology teacher was ridiculous. She took a break in the middle of class one day and invited us to her office full of weird plants. Her grandaughter, who was about our age, warmed the tea and pulled out the already prepared apple pancakes. This is the recipe I got her to write down for me. The KeRUP stuff is the white milky substance that doesn't move that I talked about before. After class that day, our teacher took us outside and explained the history of all the surrounding buildings, including the first ever Moscow State University building which sits next to our medical building. She also showed us "the best geological musuem in the world," at least that's what she said. She even continued to walk us to the metro stop telling us more about what it was like to live during the Soviet regime. "We had nothing," she points towards the Kremlin walls, "They... they had everything. It was not good." You can tell from her tone that it's a hard subject for her to speak about.
4. Propaganda is a restaurant that clears the tables later in the night to make way for pure Rooski style dancing.
5. The next day I find out their names were Dasha.
6. So a good deal went on these surrounding days. But I didn't feel like writing about it in this dumb notebook. No Time. On Saturday we got up early and went to the MARKET. I don't remember what it's actually called but it's huge, and sells anything you could every imagine, pretty much. I bought two things, presents, so i can't divulge what they are just yet. When i first walked into the market a strange thing happened: cavalier as i am, i trotted into the first stand that sells shoes that i see. Run by Chechnians, at least i presumed them to be, it was quite the shop. Hundreds of shoes. All quite fashionable. All quite obviously fake. Let me correct something, i remember now, I didn't just trot into the stand... the man grabbed me by the arm and pulled me into the damn thing. But hey, I'm in russia, what will this chechnian try with me considering that i looked like a russian citizen (aka not dark skinned). Anyway, he gets me in there and starts babbling off the only english phrases he knows. "Very good!" he exclaims as he pulls random shoes off the wall, bending them in all directions, and even showing me how they don't melt when holding a lighter to the leather. Wow, chechnian, you got me hooked. But then he gets personal. He literally pulls my shoes off my feet. Wow, chechnian, this is great service! i don't even have to take off my own shoes. The young chechnian then put his shoes on my feet and told me to walk around. Damn, chechnian, you're giving these to me for free? The shoes were Dolce Cabbana, i don't know much about brands, but i know that this is a pretty fly shoe. As i walk around the dirt ground in my new Dolce, i realize these aren't the most comfortable things---- surely, not Kangeroos, which by the way he insulted because they were not capable of resisting flames. So, I try to tell him with pure gestures and english but he doesn't understand that I don't want these shoes. Well well, chechnian, you didn't like that did you. He took my kangeroos and put them in a bag, tied the bag, and put them in the corner. Are you really stealing my 5 year old kangeroos chechnian? Then he starts raising his voice, and physically won't let me take the shoes off my feet. That's when my brother Dodge shows up. Now Dodge, he's the man, he's from Kansas, so he obviously knows what's up. He walks right up to this guy in his boat shoes and polo, and gives a 'what's up.' The chechnian didn't like that at all, and starts poking him in the stomach and making that noise you would make if you're tickling a toddler tummy by fluttering your lips. Dodge thought this was hilarious, as did i. But really i just wanted my kangeroos back. So I wittily pull out my visa to show him that that is the only way i can pay. he understood, but new i was lying. 5 more minutes of Babel-esque bickering and he finally lets me have my shoes back. Bad Chechnian.***
For the next 4.5 hours i walked around this monster of a market looking at all the cool soviet stuff, nesting dolls, and just about anything... even a sub machine gun.
So when we left, we stopped at Arbat st. to eat a nice dinner. Then i did something else pretty crazy.
I got a tattoo. A lip tattoo to be specific. My friend Lindsay wanted to get one actually first, and then my boy Dodge said, "hey Neil, you should get one too."
I said, "Pff, yeah right. What should i get, Dodge?"
Dodge said, "get.... Da." And that's when the light bulb blew up in my head. Blew up, because this was the best idea for a tattoo i've ever heard, and because I just remembered that i've been wanting to get a lip tattoo for roughly 2.5 years. So, I made up my mind. I was going to get it. J helped me out with the font. He found a russian magazine, inside was an ad for some rice. There lay "Da." Da means Yes in Russian, by the way. The tattoo lady thought i was crazy. J thought i was crazy, even Dodge who told me to do it thought i was crazy. I finally met my artist, his name i find out later to be Dmitri. He was the shit. He had gray hair, obviously a sign of experience, and he spoke broken english, which is better than just about everyone in the shop. When it was over, he shook my hand and we got a picture together. He took one for his records too. see, Dmitri thinks it's cool.
So now I have a Da tattoo on my lip. You can only see it if i pull my lower lip down with my hand. It's quite convenient if I don't feel like using my vocal chords in russia. Just whip out that lip.
Lindsey ended up with Beealyy Slooan. A white elephant. It's pretty sweet too. Behind her ear. I love beallly Slooans.
*** I have no proof that this guy was even associated with Chechnia. But i'm pretty sure he was.
[PICTURES WILL BE UP AS SOON AS POSSIBLE. I HAVE SOME GOOD ONES. MOSTLY OF LIP TATTOOS AND RUSSIAN CHILDREN]
^^[Muscovite: One who was born and lives in the Russian city of Moscow.]
08/6/08
15:00 Russians love Japanese crap. (See Kremlin temporary exhibit)
15:02 Somethings about last night: J didn't make it; vomited in metro while going home. We found a Pizza Hut;Russians give confusing directions; Got rejected by Fabrique like 8 times; Face-control sucks[1]. Zebras are crosswalks-- that's what they call them. funny eh?
Amanda XXXXXX**
XXX-XXX-XXXX
Tallahasee, FL[2]
10/6/08
[Complicated map drawn by Maria should go here. I can't draw it on this blog. It details the location of "Fridays," yes, TGIF Fridays, a Russian favorite, as well as two bar/clubs.]
NAMCO3
-1 spoon small
+500 ml KeRUP [or something like that]
+1 egg
+flour[3]
Thursday 12/6/08 DAY OF RUSSIA
14:45 I'm on metro to Red Sq. Last night: Propaganda[4]; too many drinks, not enough $; Tasha & Tasha[5] -- Red Dress -- B may have found a GF; Then Kate & ______; got K's # but don't think she was cute; Tasha #2 was very cute but had a bf. XXXX and J made out in the middle of the dance floor for what seemed to be hours. T puked in the cab. We left later than them at 5:50am, went to Makdonalds -- disgusting I know. With C, J, and Amy now. Dodge is @ Red Square already. Plan to get some russian wear this weekend.
13/6/08
16:48 Here I am, resting on a black leather bench in the Puskin Museum of fine arts. I'm about half way through, a lot of egyptian artifacts, quite impressive, a lot of famous sculptures that have been cast, so they're fake, but still cool. I really enjoyed seeing the Old Man painting by Rembrandt; his work is incredible, blows me away.
Facebook name:
Tania XXXX
phone: 8 910-XXXXXXX
Somethings about last night: Well, above is my first Russian love. Well not love, but Kiss? Make out? She kissed me to be specific. It was on the dancefloor of B2, another rooskie club. I know I know, making out on the dancefloor is trashy, but making out on a russian dancefloor? well that's just sweet. She had dark hair, about 5'3" with the face of BGresc; meaning a very russian face. Getting to the club was near accident. We got rejected from Che first, we needed reservations, then Grafit 33, where i was supposed to be meeting my girl "snake bite nora," was too expensive (about 40 bucks a person), so we found B2. I actually saw this girl on the empty metro before we even got there, we followed her up the escalator even, just so happened they were going to the same place, ergo, hence, the first line i would say to her had been created. Tania & Anastasia, those were their names. Both were out of school and now are translators or something. Tania went to school in Montreal so she spoke very good english. The other spoke barely any, just french and russian. T texted me today, we'll see what happens. Oh, she told me that mullets are everywhere b/c a singer that won Europe's American Idol had one.
Sat. 14/6/08
[Nothing Written][6]
_______________________________________________________________
1. Imagine a 6 foot Rooski with blonde hair, slim, and wearing cool rooski clothes, aka all black with pointy shoes and one article of something white, standing at the door, surrounded by 4 big fat rooskis, and he looks at your face then down to you toes and back up again, only to say "not tonight." B tried to bribe him with about 50 bucks. That didn't work.
2. Most entries that look like this are phone numbers and other contact info i get from Muscovites^^. But sometimes they are from Florida and live across the hall.
3. My substitute Histology teacher was ridiculous. She took a break in the middle of class one day and invited us to her office full of weird plants. Her grandaughter, who was about our age, warmed the tea and pulled out the already prepared apple pancakes. This is the recipe I got her to write down for me. The KeRUP stuff is the white milky substance that doesn't move that I talked about before. After class that day, our teacher took us outside and explained the history of all the surrounding buildings, including the first ever Moscow State University building which sits next to our medical building. She also showed us "the best geological musuem in the world," at least that's what she said. She even continued to walk us to the metro stop telling us more about what it was like to live during the Soviet regime. "We had nothing," she points towards the Kremlin walls, "They... they had everything. It was not good." You can tell from her tone that it's a hard subject for her to speak about.
4. Propaganda is a restaurant that clears the tables later in the night to make way for pure Rooski style dancing.
5. The next day I find out their names were Dasha.
6. So a good deal went on these surrounding days. But I didn't feel like writing about it in this dumb notebook. No Time. On Saturday we got up early and went to the MARKET. I don't remember what it's actually called but it's huge, and sells anything you could every imagine, pretty much. I bought two things, presents, so i can't divulge what they are just yet. When i first walked into the market a strange thing happened: cavalier as i am, i trotted into the first stand that sells shoes that i see. Run by Chechnians, at least i presumed them to be, it was quite the shop. Hundreds of shoes. All quite fashionable. All quite obviously fake. Let me correct something, i remember now, I didn't just trot into the stand... the man grabbed me by the arm and pulled me into the damn thing. But hey, I'm in russia, what will this chechnian try with me considering that i looked like a russian citizen (aka not dark skinned). Anyway, he gets me in there and starts babbling off the only english phrases he knows. "Very good!" he exclaims as he pulls random shoes off the wall, bending them in all directions, and even showing me how they don't melt when holding a lighter to the leather. Wow, chechnian, you got me hooked. But then he gets personal. He literally pulls my shoes off my feet. Wow, chechnian, this is great service! i don't even have to take off my own shoes. The young chechnian then put his shoes on my feet and told me to walk around. Damn, chechnian, you're giving these to me for free? The shoes were Dolce Cabbana, i don't know much about brands, but i know that this is a pretty fly shoe. As i walk around the dirt ground in my new Dolce, i realize these aren't the most comfortable things---- surely, not Kangeroos, which by the way he insulted because they were not capable of resisting flames. So, I try to tell him with pure gestures and english but he doesn't understand that I don't want these shoes. Well well, chechnian, you didn't like that did you. He took my kangeroos and put them in a bag, tied the bag, and put them in the corner. Are you really stealing my 5 year old kangeroos chechnian? Then he starts raising his voice, and physically won't let me take the shoes off my feet. That's when my brother Dodge shows up. Now Dodge, he's the man, he's from Kansas, so he obviously knows what's up. He walks right up to this guy in his boat shoes and polo, and gives a 'what's up.' The chechnian didn't like that at all, and starts poking him in the stomach and making that noise you would make if you're tickling a toddler tummy by fluttering your lips. Dodge thought this was hilarious, as did i. But really i just wanted my kangeroos back. So I wittily pull out my visa to show him that that is the only way i can pay. he understood, but new i was lying. 5 more minutes of Babel-esque bickering and he finally lets me have my shoes back. Bad Chechnian.***
For the next 4.5 hours i walked around this monster of a market looking at all the cool soviet stuff, nesting dolls, and just about anything... even a sub machine gun.
So when we left, we stopped at Arbat st. to eat a nice dinner. Then i did something else pretty crazy.
I got a tattoo. A lip tattoo to be specific. My friend Lindsay wanted to get one actually first, and then my boy Dodge said, "hey Neil, you should get one too."
I said, "Pff, yeah right. What should i get, Dodge?"
Dodge said, "get.... Da." And that's when the light bulb blew up in my head. Blew up, because this was the best idea for a tattoo i've ever heard, and because I just remembered that i've been wanting to get a lip tattoo for roughly 2.5 years. So, I made up my mind. I was going to get it. J helped me out with the font. He found a russian magazine, inside was an ad for some rice. There lay "Da." Da means Yes in Russian, by the way. The tattoo lady thought i was crazy. J thought i was crazy, even Dodge who told me to do it thought i was crazy. I finally met my artist, his name i find out later to be Dmitri. He was the shit. He had gray hair, obviously a sign of experience, and he spoke broken english, which is better than just about everyone in the shop. When it was over, he shook my hand and we got a picture together. He took one for his records too. see, Dmitri thinks it's cool.
So now I have a Da tattoo on my lip. You can only see it if i pull my lower lip down with my hand. It's quite convenient if I don't feel like using my vocal chords in russia. Just whip out that lip.
Lindsey ended up with Beealyy Slooan. A white elephant. It's pretty sweet too. Behind her ear. I love beallly Slooans.
*** I have no proof that this guy was even associated with Chechnia. But i'm pretty sure he was.
[PICTURES WILL BE UP AS SOON AS POSSIBLE. I HAVE SOME GOOD ONES. MOSTLY OF LIP TATTOOS AND RUSSIAN CHILDREN]
Monday, June 9, 2008
More
June 6, 2008
18:00 Lines in Russia are different; you must be touching at least some article of clothing belonging to the person in front of you to prevent someone cutting in front of you.
20:00 My histology professor, Tatiana, told us earlier this week how they use the hair of asian students as the pointers in the microscopes. She wasn't kidding; I looked. They glue foreign students' hairs into their microscopes.
June 7, 2008
00:01 Stu told me he saw a Muscovite line up shots on the hood of his car, do them all, then drive away [1].
10:30 Maria[2], my Anatomy professor, swore at her laser pointer and after looking at where it was made reacistly remarked, "Ahhk! China!"
10:45 The MSU Medical Academy is in a frenzy because Dodge [3] left his book in the hallway and forgot, but he told Maria that he left it in the Babuska-guarded Anatomy Museum.
14:10 I took a pic of Babuskas buying bras on the street. A very serious man came to me immediately speaking in very serious Russian. Thought he was going to kick my ass. I said meekly, "Choo-Choo[4]," and he laughed and walked away.
14:30 A guy dressed in full camo and bearing gold grills just asked me-- I assume, it was in Russian-- if I wanted to buy the baby rabbits he was carrying around in his shoe box.
15:20 "In Capitalism... The way of the gifted. In Socialism... The gifted go all the way!" Best thing I've bought so far. It was done by Mayakovsky. Just finished the museum. We followed a girl giving a tour whose father was completely obsessed with him and whose grandmother saw him dead after his suicide. She has his real death mask she said. Cool museum and it was free.
21:30 Went to the polytechnical museum after Mayakovsky. It was kinda lame. I ate a really good shiskabob. Now I'm drinking gin, getting ready for club "FRABRIQUE" should be interesting.
June 8, 2008
7:24 Long freaking night; just going to bed. Never got into fabrique but we did find another club, called club zona. thoroughly ridiculous. have to sleep. explain later.
15:00 In the Kremlin. Hung over. Russians love Japanese Crap (See: Kremlin temporary exhibit).
15:02 Some things about last night: J didn't make it; puked on the metro. We found a pizza hut. Russians give confusing directions. Russian dancing boggles my mind. Walked around an asked anyone alone if they spoke english; it worked for the most part. had a lot of fun.
15:03 In Russia, crosswalks are called Zebras.
15:25
@ Nabeleskaya
- (green line)
- Railway station
- GROMADA
<---- [5] size 42 __________________________________________________________________ 1. Note: In Moscow, you need neither a driver's license nor a license plate to drive-- only insurance.
2. Everyone* but me is in love with her. She's probably 49 years old. Why am I the only one that thinks having a crush on someone the age of my own mother is weird.
3. Mind you, the medical building here has a rule that everyone must be wearing a WHITE labcoat at all times. Dodge has a dark blue labcoat. You should see the looks he gets from these rooskies.
4. Very little
5. Directions that Irina wrote into my tetrad to a cheap shoestore. I need some Rooski footwear.
*J, B, Dodge
18:00 Lines in Russia are different; you must be touching at least some article of clothing belonging to the person in front of you to prevent someone cutting in front of you.
20:00 My histology professor, Tatiana, told us earlier this week how they use the hair of asian students as the pointers in the microscopes. She wasn't kidding; I looked. They glue foreign students' hairs into their microscopes.
June 7, 2008
00:01 Stu told me he saw a Muscovite line up shots on the hood of his car, do them all, then drive away [1].
10:30 Maria[2], my Anatomy professor, swore at her laser pointer and after looking at where it was made reacistly remarked, "Ahhk! China!"
10:45 The MSU Medical Academy is in a frenzy because Dodge [3] left his book in the hallway and forgot, but he told Maria that he left it in the Babuska-guarded Anatomy Museum.
14:10 I took a pic of Babuskas buying bras on the street. A very serious man came to me immediately speaking in very serious Russian. Thought he was going to kick my ass. I said meekly, "Choo-Choo[4]," and he laughed and walked away.
14:30 A guy dressed in full camo and bearing gold grills just asked me-- I assume, it was in Russian-- if I wanted to buy the baby rabbits he was carrying around in his shoe box.
15:20 "In Capitalism... The way of the gifted. In Socialism... The gifted go all the way!" Best thing I've bought so far. It was done by Mayakovsky. Just finished the museum. We followed a girl giving a tour whose father was completely obsessed with him and whose grandmother saw him dead after his suicide. She has his real death mask she said. Cool museum and it was free.
21:30 Went to the polytechnical museum after Mayakovsky. It was kinda lame. I ate a really good shiskabob. Now I'm drinking gin, getting ready for club "FRABRIQUE" should be interesting.
June 8, 2008
7:24 Long freaking night; just going to bed. Never got into fabrique but we did find another club, called club zona. thoroughly ridiculous. have to sleep. explain later.
15:00 In the Kremlin. Hung over. Russians love Japanese Crap (See: Kremlin temporary exhibit).
15:02 Some things about last night: J didn't make it; puked on the metro. We found a pizza hut. Russians give confusing directions. Russian dancing boggles my mind. Walked around an asked anyone alone if they spoke english; it worked for the most part. had a lot of fun.
15:03 In Russia, crosswalks are called Zebras.
15:25
@ Nabeleskaya
- (green line)
- Railway station
- GROMADA
<---- [5] size 42 __________________________________________________________________ 1. Note: In Moscow, you need neither a driver's license nor a license plate to drive-- only insurance.
2. Everyone* but me is in love with her. She's probably 49 years old. Why am I the only one that thinks having a crush on someone the age of my own mother is weird.
3. Mind you, the medical building here has a rule that everyone must be wearing a WHITE labcoat at all times. Dodge has a dark blue labcoat. You should see the looks he gets from these rooskies.
4. Very little
5. Directions that Irina wrote into my tetrad to a cheap shoestore. I need some Rooski footwear.
*J, B, Dodge
Friday, June 6, 2008
It's a Game: Connect the Description to the Photo
Us in front of the dorm at nightThe dorm without us in front of it, during the day
Lenin's Tomb
The Gum at Night
Drinking Russian "milk" it doesn't really move.
A random church.
Eating mushroom sandwich and a gin and tonic in a can on the street. 60 rubles
A sweet bathroom at FAQ cafe (explained earlier).
St. Basil's
St. Basil's at Night
The Metro
Room
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