Sorry for the bitching long post, but I'm up to date now...

August 26, 2005

And the deja vus continues. I’m beginning to think that maybe my initial hesitation about drawing Russian conclusions from Czech experiences may be unfounded. After being verbally accosted by several old men today, I’m convinced this place is just as bizarre as Cheznovice, and the camp for demented little boys was. Maybe the difference really only is that this time I understand the language and can actually tell when people are laughing at me. Earlier today we had a break from orientation, so we’re all sitting around chatting or smoking. Some dedushki pushed their way through telling us that we should all be ashamed of ourselves, smoking. So I told him not everyone did, that I didn’t and he said, “Well good. Now you can get married.”

The second anecdote involved a perhaps drunken old man on the way to dinner and a quick rescue by one of the Russian students, so we won’t mention any specifics. Again, I’m not completely convinced it’s a good thing that I understand what people are saying about me. Makes them harder to ignore.

Dear Riana: I met a muy bonito interesante mejicano today. You’d be proud.

…

Well, still hate discos. Oh well, it was worth a try. Still way to weak when it comes to vodka. Still way too uncompassionate when it comes to stupid “American” behavior, and way too tolerant of drunk people. So, in other words, things are exactly the same, except when they’re completely different.

But it smells just like sitting on my windowsill looking down on the namesti in spring time.

August 28, 2005

I’m watching some really badly dubbed Sylvester Stallone movie, wishing I hadn’t passed out earlier and thus would be remotely sleepy.

Today was, monumental. We had our first outing as a group this morning. I was…well…not happy with the whole group thing, to put it lightly. Or in Peggy language… GOD DAMN I can’t stand crowds of foreigners. Oh the hypocrisy, but CHRIST PEOPLE. Judgmental, yea, I know, and I’m sure I’m really not that much better, but it damn it, we’re loud, ethnocentric, obtrusive, picky, impolite, and frankly, it DRIVES ME UP THE FUCKING WALL. I look back on everything, and just pray I wasn’t that offensive that first year, and cringe because I know I was just as bad. Sometimes I just hope that all the people in the world who have had to deal with me at various awkward stages in my life just know how thankful I am, and that I’ve eventually figured things out to some extent. That it wasn’t all in vain…

Even in a group like this I find myself gravitation towards the foreigners, the freaks, and the guys. After our outing today Pavle, the Serb from Johns Hopkins, and I went out to lunch. I wandered around with Bruno, the Mexican for a while later that night. But the squeaky girls with their sparkles and flashing the money not at all inconspicuously and their accents, and just dripping sarcasm and ridicule for their situation here, make me feel like I’m back in High School. Again, I wonder how you can go about teaching cultural sensitivity and flexibility, or just plain tolerance. Or can you teach it at all, is it just inherent. Was I that bad three years ago?!?

Right, so, soapbox done for the moment. Back to the adventures. The metro is less scary than I expected. It freaks me out having to open my bag in public, I’m so terrified of pickpockets after umpteen “Oh my god you’re all going to get mugged” lectures. But it wasn’t that bad. I haven’t yet had to go by myself, but in general Metro less scary than marshrutki where you actually have to deal with the driver. Much less frightening. Tomorrow I go to the institute by marshrutka, but Lena said she’d go with me to show me the way.

I’m actually quite happy with the family situation. I feel really comfortable, which I definitely was not expecting. My room is about the size of Bara and I’s room in Kostelec, no joke, or Masha and I’s room in Akindom minus the closet space. In the first bedroom sleep Lena, and her younger daughter Lilia (13), then my room, then in the third bedroom liver her older daughter Valia (16) and her boyfriend Ruslan. Very interesting, and all the more scandalous because he’s *gasp* from Moldavia. Not because he’s 19 and lives there. Yea. Oh, and most importantly our three cats Dima, Lisa, and Vasia. Lena is fairly young, I’d guess early 40’s but in name only, talks a blue streak, but really amicable. She even gave me an extra SIM cart for my phone. She seems very helpful, but not remotely overbearing. The daughters so far are pretty chill. We spent the evening dyeing Valia’s hair and looking at pictures. As awkward as it is, I’m all for the sitting and talking, even if the only thing I can contribute is “Yea, interesting”. But yea, I’m satisfied.

Now that family stuff is out of the way, I can happily start dreading school in the morning. And several hours of placement exams. Hurrah.

But there is something authentically cool about looking out my window at the spire on top of Peter and Paul fortress while someone sets off fireworks somewhere over on Vasilievsky Island. Or discovering that I live like three blocks away from the world’s most northern mosque.

I have some serious shopping to do if I ever want to pass the blend in test. After lunch, Pavle and I were walking near the Church of the Spilled Blood, and were asked twice by some oldies from the states to take their pictures. D’oh. I think its shoes for a start.

Killer robots. Enough TV.

August 29, 2005

I think I might just swear of the internet for the duration, and for that matter, all non-classical music. This whole homesickness phenomenon is so foreign to me; I really don’t know how to handle myself. Checking the email tonight really sent me over the edge, that plus the rest of my 47 emails, and reading school people’s notes and journals. Its such a difference, now that I actually have people and things at home to miss.

Ok, in the less emotional side of the day, I got heinously heinously lost somewhere in the neighborhood on my way home today. Well, not exactly. I went with a crowd to an internet café on Nevsky downtown, and from their Fred and I decided to find our way back to Petrogradskaya (our neighborhood) by ourselves on foot. That in itself was enough of a hike, but then I got a bit turned around between his building on Bolshoi prospect back over to anywhere remotely familiar. I ended up walking the entire length of Bolshoi like, twice…and its friggin long. But yea, alls well that ends well, right?

I even survived our wicked long test this morning. I was feeling pretty ok for the first like…four or five pages of it, and then my eyes glazed over and my brain turned off. After awhile I just started x’ing answers. The interview portion went fairly well I thought, besides from my continuing incapability to give anyone a simple answer ever. I can’t even give my name without a drawn out explanation, so don’t even try hobbies and other such information. I guess we’ll see in the morning how things turned out??

I CAN’T STAND BEING THIS PERPETUALLY TIRED. BOZHE.

August 30, 2005

So who ended up in the highest group?!? I did! Yea, I know, how the fuck did that happen?!? Out of 50ish CIEE students, there are four of us, a little more for reading and conversation classes. I don’t at all believe I belong in a group with a heritage speaker and a serb, me the twangy white girl. Confidence, confidence. Oh where did you flee to? Today, more than anything else, revealed how hellishly long 24 hours of class during a week will prove to be. My brain turns off for long intervals between coffee breaks and meals, which is all told…like half my day. I was actually really happy with all the teachers. Today included analitika, fonetika, and conversation. I’ll agree with Pavle, in saying that phonetics will be my most despised but singularly useful class of the semester. Like he said, you can recognize the teacher’s intonation as correct and familiar, but none of us have managed to reproduce the right sounds yet.

Tomorrow we have grammar and again conversation. Riana, trust me when I say I’m commiserating with you sitting and actually having to do grammar in a class. Oh what joy. If by joy you mean making me want to gouge out my eyes.

Note to self: bring one extra layer than you think is necessary in the morning. Don’t argue

August 31, 2005

Victory of the day: well, besides not rolling over and dying in Grammar, most definitely walking home from the institute. Pavle and I walked along the Neva up two bridges over from the one I know in front of the fortress, and then cut through the neighborhood. The exercise felt really good, plus more exploring always puts me in a better mood. It only took us about half an hour, but when I’m upset and cold, I walk super fast apparently. We sat in the pivnice in Alexandrovsky park and had a bar in this old wine cellar. Russian beer definitely not up there with Plsner, but beats the shit out of what we’ve been drinking in Portland for sure.

I’m getting a cold. This is ridiculous. Maybe less wandering on the embankments and more clothes.

The spire on the fortress is glowing brilliant golden against the clouds. It looks like its backlit, but its really just the gold against the storm clouds and the sky.

MTV Russia is, so very weird.

September 1, 2005

Somehow I always forget how absolutely lonely being sick away from home makes me feel. Or for that matter, the effect antihistamines have on me. I’m a little disconcerted about having to cut into my cold pills stash within the second week in country, but yea, it beats vodka shots.

Today was the first day of school for normal Petersburgers. It was kinda cool to see everyone all dressed up carrying their flowers to the teachers. I couldn’t help but thinking how cool it would be to live in a country with such respect for education. But then I started thinking about living here, with these girls, who have no desire, much less prospects for higher education. Its such a different attitude, with that expectation handing above you all the time. Maybe that freedom allows them to actually appreciate what they’re doing. How’s that for a giant generalization in all directions?

My bus coming home today was stopped by the police. Yeah, definitely one of the most scary things to happen in a while. The driver got out to talk to the cops. They looked at something under the bus for a while, then the driver came back, and we drove away. The whole concept of living so tied to your documents just freaks me out. You know the one day I don’t have my papers with me is gonna be the day I get stopped on the street. I told everyone what had happened this evening, and Ruslan was saying it probably had something to do with how scared everyone is, since today was the year anniversary of Beslan.

Eery.

September 2, 2005

The first step of any negative is taking control of the situation. I’m slowly remembering the tricks of keeping oneself in the right state of mind. My self imposed internet ban failed, as I knew it would, but this second fix was even less satisfying than the first trip. But than I realized that sitting in the apartment in my room feeling shitty is stupid. What a waste of everything. So then I went for a walk, got lost again, and felt ten times better. Now that I’m sitting back here though, yea, no good.

We had an outing this afternoon to the fortress, but I didn’t really understand anything, and forgot all that I did actually get. I was OK for the first 20 minutes or so, and then the days of feeling shitty and tired and sick I guess caught up with me. The most interesting thing I got out of the tour was watching the other guides interact with their groups of foreign dignitaries. My favorite was a tall willowy very Russian blonde conducting a Chinese tour. Very possibly the whitest person I have ever seen speaking Chinese, well, not including Killmer. Every time any other group came through speaking another language, I totally lost all concentration till I figured out what they were speaking. I know some tsars were buried there in the cathedral, and I know the walls were actually painted to look like marble cause they were too cheap for the real stuff.

September 4, 2005

I’m ecstatic! I spent like all day today with real live Russians. I didn’t believe I could pull it off, but I did, and it was awesome. They brought a group of Russian students with us when we had orientation last week in Repino (god, was it only a week ago??) and I spoke a bit to some of the girls. They asked me for my phone number, but I didn’t have one yet, so I didn’t think anything of it. Then one of the girls showed up today for our excursion to the park out on Kristovsky Island, her name was Nadia. She has her friend Lena with her, and I talked to them for most of the trip. Afterwards, most of the group went to some restaurant or bar or something, which I wasn’t particularly interested in, so we went out instead. I kind of invited myself, but yea, since when have social graces been a particular talent of mine?!? They seemed genuinely happy to have me along, if I read the situation right… We went to a theater pretty close by actually, somewhere on Bolshoi prospect, to see a French film called Les Choiristes”. Since Russians don’t believe in subtitles, I was freaked that I wouldn’t understand it all, but things went fairly well. Of course I didn’t catch every word, but got the gist. It was a beautiful film, about a music teacher in a state boarding school for …bad boys? And how he started a choir which inadvertently went on to solve a lot of the discipline and attitude problems in the school, and changed a lot of the boys’ lives. Beautiful music…but how I’m missing playing now…

But most importantly, I made a friend! Maybe even two! A real live Russian who knows my name and maybe even something more besides from just social pleasantries. Two weeks, not even, in the country…and all without even going on one of my infamous “damn it be my friend” campaigns. Maybe this whole social thing isn’t so overrated after all…

September 5, 2005

Shower problem officially solved. Hooray for proactiveness. But the whole hygiene factor still sucks after standing on the bus for an hour, ass up against the world. Eh.

September 6, 2005

So things get interesting-er and interesting-er at our house. I sat with Lena last night drinking tea, and she told me about her husband, all her lovers, how they got married a month before Valia was born, and so on. It was…a most interesting conversation (read: awkward as fuck) but I wasn’t sure whether this was supposed to be shocking material or normal. I had absolutely no idea what to measure this whole interchange against, so the whole time I just kind of muttered semi-coherently, and hoped she would interpret something useful…

…
Sometimes I wonder if my reputation is forwarded wherever I go, and this great big giant kick me sign that screams my endearing pushover qualities is just perpetually pinned to my backside. Well, no, not really, but that’s the gut impulse whenever I find myself enmeshed in new activities. Stress on the “find myself” and “enmeshed”, even though I know its nothing but my own choices, I’m the only guilty one. But busy is always better than not, and rationally (hah) thinking, I will feel a lot better when doing something productive with my free time, besides getting heinously lost in the five block radius surrounding my house, or reading, or sleeping. Ideally, productive would be music, or sport, or something in which I could deal with Russians regarding a mutual passion. Volunteering as an English native speaker at least gets me out there on a semi-regular basis involved in the community, dealing with Russian outside of our small classroom.

Feeling this displaced is rattling, but maybe because of the parts that don’t really freak me out at all. I’m totally fine being in this household, getting around the city for the most part, school, etc. I’m fairly well oriented in terms of waking up in the morning and feeling confident to get through what I need to in my day. I guess its more of an emotional displacement. I wasn’t at all rattled by seeing a guy pop a squat and take a crap on the street (not like that first morning way back in Hradec…ah…memories…) I’m disturbed by dealing with myself and my reactions to interactions. I feel like I haven’t found something to latch onto yet, pour my energy into, and thus, haven’t really let my feet touch the ground here yet. I mean yea, duh, of course. Hurray for the introspection and all of unoccupied time and space, but its also a very surreptitiously false experience, as false as I let myself be all last year, and I don’t want that. The question remains: how to infiltrate, how to take the plunge. I almost wish I wasn’t so easily adjustable to my surroundings. That would at least be a concrete issue to deal with. All this emotional abstraction is just a pain in the ass.

September 7, 2005

I had that dream again last night, and I woke up so happy because of it. I dunno if that’s because of who was involved or just how calming the string symphony is (wish I could figure out what the music actually is!! Not knowing is driving me batty…) but either way, the ensuing realization is like coming down off of a chemical high-disturbing, cold, and empty. I do this to myself, I know it, so what right to complain…

I think lying in bed and staring out at the clouds scurrying across the night sky around the tower must be some kind of spell…