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.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
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.
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