It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…Yea that’s how it goes.

Well here I am at Domodedovo Airport in Moscow, ready and waiting for my flight. I’d like to wrap up the trip with something very profound and thoughtful..but I’m too tired for that right now. So I’ll leave you with this:

MR WEST IS COMING HOME!

Cannot wait to be back.

I’ve been gone for a while…I know. But here’s the deal- my MacBook crashed and I’ve been cleverly avoiding writing an entire post on my iPhone by convincing myself that it would miraculously come back to life. Of course, it hasn’t and so here I am feverishly tapping away on my shattered phone screen. I know you all have been waiting in great suspense for a detailed account of my latest and greatest so let’s begin at a little place I like to call the banya…

___________________________________
BANYA, (n): Similar to the American sauna, the banya holds a special place in the Russian health regimen. With temperatures soaring over an unregulated 200+ degrees Fahrenheit, the brain melting heat is believed to clear the body of all toxins.

Synonym: crematorium with vodka
___________________________________

Outside of the health advantages, the banya also serves as a retreat for the old soviets…like a weekly poker club. So here’s how my experience went down:

One of my buddies is being hosted by a man of high standing in this region’s military hierarchy. We think he explained his title before but the man speaks at such a high speed and with so little regard for our comprehension that we let 70% of his words fly over head. Sometimes, he slows down enough to allow us to demonstrate our competency in the language. At these times, we go to banya.

So three of us students jump into this colonel’s car to hit the road. With the click of my belt buckle, Mr. Colonel swiftly turned around to tell me that my seatbelt is completely unnecessary and that i should take it off (pride before safety, he was insulted I would think to take such precaution). We didnt go far outside of our apartment neighborhood before we made a quick turn onto a dirt road. We continued for quite some time down this dirt path…past barbed fences and concrete walls…military vehicles and personnel…so it didn’t take too much for me to realize that this banya must be on a military base. Right.

We stopped on the side of the dirt path, jumped out and followed the man to a steel door fixed into one of the concrete walls. He knocked three times and said something I didn’t understand and not long after a young soldier unbolted the door to welcome us inside. If this all sounds shady, it’s only because it was. But in all reality it was pretty badass. Once we stepped inside, the military base vanished and before us stood a little private old man spa. Following in Mr. Colonel’s steps, we disrobed, wrapped some thin bed sheets around us, grabbed slippers and took a seat in the dining room. Yea, there was a dining room with plates of salad set up and waiting. After eating through our salads, the young soldier that let us in came over to clear our plates and bring out more snack foods. The soldier did this all night which was funny in a way; I mean here’s this Russian soldier waiting on three young American punks. They even went on an alcohol run for us…well on the request of our host dad. Thanks to him, the hospitality was fantastic.

Once the sauna was ready, we took our turn inside the sweltering hell box. After sweating out a day’s worth of fluids I jumped into the tepid plunge pool and then returned to the dining room. This is the ritual: sauna, plunge/shower, dine, and repeat. The only issue that I had with the whole routine was the dining portion…6 sweaty soviets dripping over the ham I was about to place in my mouth did not inspire my stomach. I had to stop and remember that this banya does not lend itself to cleanliness in the first place and that my slight phobia of germs and sharing of personal space with strangers had to be put on hold to enjoy the experience. I’m glad that I got past it…because food is a necessary chaser to vodka here.

That’s right, vodka. Once again, banya’s like this one are as much your local poker gathering as they are a ‘health’ retreat. So the vodka was broken out and shots were taken. It was a very cool experience to be drinking with all these old veteran military guys who I jokingly call “soviets.” Yes, they once served in the soviet military ranks but they were hardly the type of people that would ever fit our classic stereotype. They were incredibly inviting, generous, and curious about our way of life and our impressions on the Russian way of living. The way that they shared their life experiences and related to us was something special in itself.

While drinking and toasting with these guys, I learned that vodka drinking requires proper vodka drinking etiquette. Who knew? The Russians observe a few simple rules:

1. Vodka is consumed in the company of others. If you do it alone, you’re a drunkard.
2. When drinking vodka with friends, you must always make a toast to someone or something. If you proceed without doing so, you’re a drunkard.
3. After the toast has been made, you must be sure to clink with everyone. If you rush too much, you’re a drunkard.
4. You never touch the shot glass to the table after clinking and before drinking. Russians believe that doing this will bring you no money. You will also be called a drunkard.

You can take as many shots as you want while following these simple rules. So long as they are observed…well you’ll be drunk but no one will call you a “drunkard.”

Once we were loose and relaxed from the sauna, drink, and food. The beatings began. No for real. We were invited into the sauna to partake in the ritualistic beating with birch leaves. Here’s how it went for me: I laid down on my stomach butt naked while one of the large soviets prepared the branches by dipping them in the water that sits next to the sauna rocks. He then stepped back over to me, yelled incoherently, and began wailing on my body with these birch branches. It wasn’t that bad at first while the branches were wet, but once they dried out it began to sting. A lot. But he kept wailing away on my backside from head to foot. Once he stopped, I thought it was over but then my ears picked up on his imperative command of the verb, “to flip.” Scared, I flipped and had just enough time to protect my most sensitive side when he began wailing away again. Im sure it was a sight: leaves and branches flying through the air to accompany my screams as they echoed through the banya….okay it wasn’t that bad but it was an experience! All three of us took part in the birch beating and I think we all ended up agreeing that our skin felt great once it was over.

After a few more pool dips and shots we got dressed and took off for home. So that was banya. A completely unique experience I don’t think I would have enjoyed outside of Russia.

On another note, there have been a few new developments since I last posted. Hell has seen fit to spawn a new evil in the form of “Moshka” or tiny skin biting flies that swarm by the 100’s any person silly enough to step outdoors. Also, this weeks weather forecast has us bordering along the 100’s so that’ll be fun. All this on top of the ever present mosquito swarm will have me returning to the US covered in bug bites and with a killer farmers tan. 5 more days till I depart for Moscow airports!

Let’s do this again soon

West

Oh hey! I didn’t see you there. Now that you’ve dropped in, let’s get going on our week in review. This one has been much more enjoyable:

After recapping my special dinner with Stalin wannabe, I headed over to a bus station with our group to get a ride to one of our host friend’s “Dacha.”

_____________________________________________________________________________

Dacha, (n): The classic Russian get-away. Dacha’s can be found all over the Russian countryside and serve in the same capacity as an American cabin or lake house.

Synonyms: Cabin, Lake house

Example: Shit got real at our Russian friend’s “dacha.”

_____________________________________________________________________________

So we boarded the babushka packed bus and took off. Now, when I say, “babushka packed,” I mean PACKED TO THE WALLS WITH BABUSHKAS. I’ve never grazed so many babushka boobs in my life…girls could use some support. Once we got to the dacha, we set ourselves to the task of packing 17+ individuals and their crap into cramped hallways and rooms, and then opened up a few beers and we were off to the races. The dacha was very pretty and had a fantastic garden where we picked strawberries, barbequed sashlik (shish kabobs), and more or less started drinking our way through a few fifths. As one would expect, we all got super weird (read: awesome) and decided to teach the Russians how American college students party. We danced, played flip cup (which they enjoyed), and then decided that the time was right to go skinny dipping in the Volga-Don canal where the dacha was located. All in all, it was fabulously fun and we returned to the city beat from a crazy night. Some ended up going out the night after, but I was really tired and so a few of us decided to take it easy and chill around the center strip of town. Not a normal Nathan move.

On another note, this week was the end of school/graduation for Russian students! Everyone give a big round of applause to the class of 2012:

I know, I know. The one in the front. #Russia

This past Tuesday we ended up doing another thing I never thought I would do in Volgograd: boat ride! One of the Russians has a pretty sweet boat and ended up taking us out to a beach on the other side of the Volga to tan and hang out. Well, it wasn’t so much a “beach” as a patch of sand on the side of the woods but it worked all the same. Some of the group got bored with tanning and decided to brave the water for some swimming…I, however, took one look at the multiple heavy-metals factories sitting just across the river and decided that I was better off without the mercury. But, to each his own. Once the bugs started coming out I went for one last ride around the Volga and got dropped off at the Volgograd Yacht Club, which consists of a single dock made out of old oil tankers, and headed home. It was a solid day.

Yesterday, we had a pretty cool opportunity to meet with some Russian students at a university in the town next to us. The students were so nice and welcoming; they prepared a table with snacks and drinks and had a whole host of activities for us to connect and exchange. It was crazy to hear that some of the students have never in their lives left Russia. It made me feel very grateful to be able to go abroad. All the same, the students are completely infatuated with the US and pop culture from the States. They loved asking us about what bands we listen to and what TV shows we watch (south park is getting big here). It was a pretty fun experience.

And now for the main event…

Today, we went on an excursion to the Russian Museum of Fairytales! Quick side note: Russians seem to use the word “museum” loosely because the past two that we’ve visited have resembled nothing more than passing science fair projects. This one was actually a bit better, though, I don’t think the word museum should be readily applied. Another quick side note: a few of us decided to celebrate hump day last night and drank in observance of half-off harpers. Needless to say, we felt fantastic today and the Russian fairytale museum was by no means too much for us. I hope you catch my sarcasm. But a picture is worth a thousand words so let me build this up for you:

The museum looked like this:

I felt like this:

And I had to stare at this:

Yes, that’s a woman, if you were speculating.

So we all gathered in the courtyard of this “Russian Disney World” and watched as different characters came in and out to recreate classic fairy tales. Things like…well lets be real I’ve never heard of any of their fairytales and was more confused when they started acting but it was a good effort all the same. Things got hilarious when they brought out a character that was supposed to represent the “Internet.” It was a big green blob with a keyboard necklace and tubes hanging out. Like, for real. I guess even they recognize “WiFi”  and freedom of information as a fairy tale in this country. I’m still laughing.

Oh and they had also had the fish of my people! I have no clue what it was doing there, though:

So that’s pretty much been my week. Everything has gone by at a pretty normal pace and nothing too crazy or exciting has happened, which is fine. The only thing that really sucks is that they turned the hot water off in my district this past Monday until tomorrow…so showering has only happened on occasion. To put it in perspective, though, I’m at least glad we didn’t get our water turned off all together. They did that to the center city area this past weekend, which meant no water for showers, sinks, and most importantly…toilets. Sucks to suck I guess.

Love you and miss you all, tomorrow is June 1st :) be back in a jiff

West

 Just a quick note before I head up to Dacha with my peoples. I was just thinking about a dinner that some of us had last night with a Canadian guy who’s working abroad. I gotta say, meeting other foreigners abroad is always interesting…even if this guy is from our hat. Still, its nice to hear where people are from, what they like, what their lifestyle is like, etc….and of course their political perspective and opinions on anything relating to foreign policy and the US. Sometimes, these opinions and ideas conflict with yours…but as a representative of the US abroad and in the spirit of open exchange and cooperation you respectfully listen and contribute in a manner that best reps your nation…and then you write about how wrong they are in your blog. Right, so here’s where this story really begins:

So this Canadian is from Niagra Falls area and once we identified ourselves as Americans he broke into how he strongly dislikes (read: hates) that he is mistaken for an American in foreign nations (sorry I didn’t write the book on America being awesome) and how he generally disagrees with the overly “capitalistic, American” style of life. Okay, were not bloodthirsty capitalist wolves guys, you get what you earn. Work for it or get out. He also said that he is in love with soviet area ideology (see: tattoo on foot) and eagerly awaits the day in which the world collectivizes all its resources to form one giant socialist nation…for real. But he also had this to say about his college tuition (I understand student debt is outrageous these days but I never thought it would be the catalyst for a new world order): he said, “I’m always getting calls from the government about my loans but I’m not going to pay my college debt and they cant make me because I’m abroad anyway. Besides, in a year the economies of the world will fail/collapse and the great socialist order will emerge, at which point all my debt will be wiped clean anyway.” I did one of those bitchy eye roll things and awkwardly smiled…I mean right? It was just so silly…like, Marxism failed once…just give it up already. If you don’t got it, you DON’T got it. I don’t think he gets it, but he’s super pumped about being in Russia long enough to apply for citizenship and join the KGB. I don’t think it will happen though, I figure Russia has enough problems without this ignoramus fighting to restore the politics of a failed regime. Moreover, if you have to use the word “regime” to describe your ideal state, the only thing worth fighting for is a name change. Something a little more egalitarian would sound nice.

Heading up to Dacha to see how Russian kids party in the woods…be back tomorrow!

Sending my love out to the Red, White, and Blue. God Bless America.

#MRWEST

Ps- Microsoft Word spell check just told me that “God bless America” is a fragment sentence and I should consider revising. Goes to show…Microsoft is made in China. God Bless America.

Are you there, America? It’s me, Nathan. So I’ve been in Volgograd for about a week now, and let me tell you that there have been varying levels of “shock” since my arrival. I figured that this post would be best organized by a recap of the things that have shocked and pleased me most, in place of the normal narrative synopsis of what monuments I’ve seen etc. I mean there’s really only one big monument in Volgograd anyway. You’ll get a picture, don’t worry. Lets begin now:

Stepping into the streets of Volgograd for the first time was something that should have been captured on tape. I was reeling from the environment that I had been thrown into and I know that most of my classmates felt the same. Now, it’s been a week and that initial paralyzing sensation of “omg this is where good people come to die” has subsided a bit…but there is always something just waiting around the corner to bring those feelings back again.

To supplement posts, I’ve decided to add some vocabulary definitions to help you along. Let’s start with the city:

_________________________________________________________________

Volgograd, (n): A city in Russia that has thrice changed its name (Tsaritsyn, Stalingrad, Volgograd). Located on the Volga River, one could describe the feeling of walking through the streets as going off-resort in Mexico, though, not as nice and with no resort to return to.

Synonyms: Ciudad Juarez

Example: “I went to ‘Volgograd’ to study how not to build a road.”

__________________________________________________________________

There are just certain things about the city that seriously sketch you out. Take this for example: On my first day here, I decided to go for a walk to clear my head and calm my nerves. I stopped to take a seat on a concrete ledge for some people watching next to the local market and grocery store. Now visualize this: A mom and her daughter are walking on a side path along the store toward the entrance. The mom stops suddenly, pulls down her child’s pants and hoists her into the air like Simba to drop a dump in the bushes along the path. Not even joking, I wish I could be though. Things like that are sometimes normal here I guess…

Another point of shock may be the neighborhood that you live in. In Russia, there is hardly any transition from lower to upper class. You are either very well off or very poor. With pervasive corruption and machine politics, comes stagnation among the less fortunate as money and opportunities stay with those who already have them. It’s a seriously broken system and makes me very thankful for the institutions we have in the US. Call me dumb, but I absolutely believe that opportunities are available in the US at some level for every individual. But being here, you really feel the difference. I realize this because my neighborhood is slightly reminiscent of Alphabet City circa “Rent.” Or maybe the Five Points district circa “Gangs of New York.” So walking home is always a super safe and jovial affair (read: I poop myself sometimes). But here’s a daytime pic:

So…to be fair, there are some nice aspects to the city. There’s a Mcdonalds…and a CitiBank…and one nice street with outdoor restaurants…and of course the support of faculty and host families, but I’ll leave all those for the end so we can close on a good note. Still though, my walk home freaks me out…it’s in a far out neighborhood that many in the states would recognize as a sketchy area. So you would think that walking around in the center city, main strip of the town would be a breeze right? Wrong. One of my friends on this trip was walking down Lenin Avenue after a football (read: soccer) game this past Saturday when three drunken Russians suddenly cornered him. The guys backed him into a corner, took his stuff, and were about to do what we could assume to be something unsavory when suddenly two other civilians came over to help him out. They got his stuff back, told him to “run,” and dealt with the problem he was able to leave behind.

So how about transportation. In Volgograd, transport is yet another point of shock and distress. But before I go too far, here’s another vocab word to help you out:

__________________________________________________________________

Mashrutka, (n): A hallowed out van with many seats, an impaired driver, and rude civilians, which is used to transport individuals to wherever they didn’t ask to go. For efficiency and convenience, Mashrutkas are illogically numbered from 1(a.b.c) to 160 (a.b.c) and circulate in a similarly illogical order. 

Synonym: well just watch this… http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8gy2KYhHPss

Example: The doctors decided that surgery was not possible because the patient had been hurled through the window of a “Mashrutka.”

__________________________________________________________________

So anytime I need to get to the university, I have to jump on a Mashrutka. The ride is horribly inconvenient and beyond uncomfortable, especially given the state of Russia’s infrastructure (or complete lack thereof). I do have other options of travel within the city, though. There are trolleybuses, trams, and taxis. But the trolleybuses don’t always go where they are posted to go, the trams only run up and down the Volga (not me), and calling and paying for a taxi every time I’m required to go to class is just obnoxious. In sum, transport would be a breeze if there were on single, logical system. Of course, they would then have to find a way to make that system function, which I’ve learned can be hard over here. 

On a still shocking but very serious note, I saw something yesterday on the main strip that drew my attention for a really unfortunate reason. I was walking with two friends to a bank on Lenin Avenue when I noticed two men crouched over and examining something on the ground. As we gained some ground I said out loud, “hey, that thing kind of looks like a body.” It was. When we reached the scene, it was totally evident. There was a dead person sprawled in a completely grotesque manner on the sidewalk being casually examined by two men, who I assumed to be detectives. The body scene was disturbing enough…I’ve only every seen a dead human as they’ve been prepared and displayed in a funeral home for visitation…but this person had clearly just died. What really threw me about the whole thing was that there was no ambulance, no police in uniforms, and no ropes. Basically no concern for a crime scene! It was being handled so casually but still so publicly that I would’ve expected a crowd or some sign of surprise from the passerby on the same sidewalk, but people barely took any notice. Everyone was still walking on the same sidewalk right past the body as if no one was there. It was messed. I assume that the individual had either jumped, or was pushed but who knows. It was being handled like nothing really happened. One of our friends in the group speculated that it might have been a training exercise…but the blood and body seemed real enough to me. And today there is word that one of the Russian hosts confirmed it might have been a jump. It’s so very sad. 

So you may be asking yourself, why did he go on this trip? Well, first off I need to immerse myself in Russian language. Secondly, I needed the credits. Before I came on this trip, former students did inform me that it would be a sketchball tour 2.0. I don’t think I could have ever braced myself for this experience, though. I mean, after all it is a LANGUAGE and CULTURE study abroad. So I was preparing myself for a great deal of language and culture immersion. I arrived under the assumption that Russia was a 1^st world, developed nation. Maybe it is on some levels. But public health, infrastructure, and other indicators may suggest otherwise. I’m not saying that what I’m experiencing here won’t be valuable, because it absolutely will be. I think we all need to experience the unexpected, offbeat places of the world. And Volgograd I’m sure is by no means the worst…Im just saying, Petersburg and Moscow were a fairytale…these past few days have not been.

But I did promise that we would leave on a good note. So let me highlight the very positive experiences of the trip so we can both leave smiling. Lets start with my living situation:

I live with Olya, a single mom, and her son Daniel. Olya is 25 and her son is 6, so Olya and I are relatively close in age. As with anything, the first week of our living situation was pretty uncomfortable as we both tried to figure out the dynamic in which we would be spending the next 5 weeks. Things like: what I like, what she likes, how late I should stay out, when to eat dinner, personal space v. shared space, etc. After a week of living there and working through any discomfort, I am truly very very very thankful to have her as a host. When Olya was 16 she did a yearlong exchange with a school in Indiana, USA. As a result, she knows what its like to be an exchange student and actually speaks perfect English, which is another plus. Ever since her return from the program she has said that it has been her dream to be able to give back and share with a student the very same way that her family in Indiana did with her. She is an extremely genuine, kind, and good-hearted individual who is wise beyond her years because of all of her life experiences. We exchanged stories and discussed our families a bit and it’s clear that she has had what many may consider a very hard life. She made it clear when we first met that she doesn’t have much as a single mom without an “official” job. She also made it very clear that what she values most in life are not new or nice things, but personal relationships with people. It seems that people and relationships are what fuels her and keep her completely optimistic and full of life despite any hardship. I think the most difficult thing for her to deal with is the acquisition of her real dream of American citizenship for herself and her son. She has made it clear that there is very little opportunity for her to get one but she still perseveres and holds to it as something to strive for.

It’s only been a week but the way she carries herself has reinforced the fact that love and generosity are the currency with which the best of people live their lives. 

In addition to this, I have a fantastic group of students to enjoy class, free time, and weekends with. It’s especially nice to be able to get together and laugh about what crazy experience we just came from…and drink it away. Another positive is that my buddy and I were able to join a gym in the center city. I didn’t think there would be much opportunity for working out here, but another one of the hosts showed it to us and we signed right up. Best piece is that it was only 33 bucks (1000 rubles) for the time that we’ll be spending here, which is perfect because it allows me to bring some normal routine into my life…without losing that perfect bod, ya heaaaarrrdd ;)

There’s still over 3 weeks and so much to do. I really want to hit the beach on the other side of the river for a little weekend party and relax action. I’m also excited to head up to a dacha and experience a real Russian banya. (dacha, banya vocabulary for the next post :P)

Big LOVE kids, Ill be back soon

The Notorious B.L.O.G.

PS- bathrooms are the worst here. Squatting is always a must.

Im baaaaaaaaaaack. Sorry Im not sorry about the delay but I just arrived to Volgograd yesterday after 21 hours of train travel from Moscow. With so much to update, I figure I’ll split this entry in two: one recapping Moscow and one summarizing my initial reaction to the city and environment of Volgograd. Believe me, they both merit their own posts for very different reasons…you’ll see why. On to Moscow!

So we arrived to Moscow from Petersburg via overnight train. I’ve never taken a sleeper train anywhere so this first experience was especially special. My female Russian teacher, two hefty slavs, and I were crammed into a compartment with four bunks. It wasn’t that bad because they smelled fantastic and didnt snore (right). As I drifted off to sleep I thought about waking up in Moscow to find myself surrounded by a vast city of modern and historic wonder. But a sudden snap to reality made me think about the bed I was in and how they probably dont change the pillows or sheets. I shortly questioned the possibility of lice and/or bed bug infestation and drifted off to sleep with medicated shampoos and tubes of itch relief dancing around my head.

And then we were in Moscow. We dropped our things at our hotel, showered briefly, and hit the Metro to take on the streets. For those who have never heard of or seen a map of the Moscow Metro, it’s daunting. But our teacher accompanied us and showed us the routes we had to take and it all became a lot easier. So we jumped on a train and arrived very suddenly at the Kremlin. It is something to see! As it was my first time seeing it and having always associated it with the former Soviet regime (and the current Putin regime), I was embarrassed for a moment that I liked it so much. But this aside, it really is an amazing structure: an imposing but beautiful fortress on the outside, holding multiple gorgeous cathedrals on the inside. The area around it was amazing as well. Just across the Red Square was GUM (the State Department Store). Here, you can really see how capitalism rushed to fill the spaces of the collapsed state run market. Louis Vuitton and Dior had clearly marked corner spots in this high-end retail space and yet another mall stood just on the other side of the Kremlin. 

The most unique and breathtaking piece of the entire complex had to be the iconic St. Basil’s church. It was built by Ivan the Terrible to commemorate some battle and it has either retained or been restored to its classic Neo-Russian architecture. Each onion dome/tower contains its own chapel with its own Icons and saintly representation so that, while it looks enormous from the outside, the chapels themselves are actually quite small. It was surreal to walk around to the beautiful chanting of a choir in the main chapel, while taking in all the fantastic icons and wall decoration.

That first night we returned to our hotel to drink some drinks and pass the efff out. Day two awaited.

On our second day in Moscow we hit a museum. I wont bore you, dont worry. After that, we went to see the Church of Christ the Savior. Like St. Basils, this cathedral also has a serious reputation in the Moscow skyline. Unfortunately, it was demolished in Stalin’s anti-religion campaign to be replaced by the world’s tallest statue and communist conference center. Of course, after demolition the plan didn’t take off and so what do you do with a giant hole in the ground? Stalin turned it into a communist swimming pool. right. One of the many things that grinds my gears about the soviets was their eagerness to destroy pretty things and replace them with stupid things. This is one example. Anyway, the church was rebuilt (thanks to a good deal of mafia $) following the fall of of the USSR and now stands as it once did in all its renewed glory. After taking a look inside, Im very happy that they did rebuild it because it is amazing. Though, not in the same way that St. Basil’s is amazing. This cathedral was unique to me for its sheer size and decoration. It was huge and every inch was covered in gilded icons, mantling, and scripts. You’re not supposed to take pictures in any of these cathedrals by the way…I did. sowwy.

I think that I’ve mentioned before that many citizens of the Russian Federation feel a great deal of nostalgia for the soviet days. Basically, anyone over 30 who is old enough to remember what it was like to live at that time wants it back. On this subject, my teacher from Volgograd who accompanied us with my actual professor through Moscow took the opportunity to voice her opinion at the Church of Christ the Savior. She said, “I wish this was still a swimming pool.” I asked her why. She said, “I’d rather go swimming, I don’t believe in God.” Now let me be clear when I say that I strongly believe that each person has a right to their own beliefs and should feel free to express them as they wish. I do not discriminate. I was, though, completely shocked that anyone would prefer to see a swimming pool in place of a gorgeous work of art, which is exactly what that cathedral is. Her comment wasn’t anti-religion, it was anti-culture. I would say the same about any temple, mosque, monastery, or bathhouse if it merits it. It just seemed so bizarre to me. Not to mention that the “pool” was thrown together to replace the building in a campaign to eradicate ideological diversity. Something I think we all treasure in the States. Of course, maybe she didn’t mean much by it, but it just seemed such a callous thing to say. I’m sure its not just Russia, but I guess that some people in the world would just rather go swimming. I prefer the pretty things. 

And now to wrap up Moscow, I’ll leave you with this. After a week in Russia, I was able to step foot on American soil. Our professor from MSU, whose connections never cease to amaze me, had set up a trip to the US Embassy through one of his friends who acts as a director within. It felt amazing to be welcomed back! We met with a few of the officers/agents to participate in a round table type discussion on US/Russia foreign policy, as well as their experiences in the Moscow Embassy and other embassies worldwide. I gained some valuable knowledge on possible career paths and left feeling comforted, knowing that home is never too far away.

Now that I’m in Volgograd, I can’t say that I feel too close to home. Its been a shock so…just…brace yourself for the next post. Its gonna be a doozy. 

till the next one-

Nate

blog station rythme nation,

Anastasia here. Its 1040 at night…which is odd because its still completely light out. That happens here. I’m hanging in the hotel lobby, preparing to go out with my study abroad compadres to have a night on the town (so to speak) and see what we may still have missed on our last night in Petersburg. I know, its been a while since my last post. I apologize. Though, I never really envisioned having this much to do and even more to talk about. I’ll have to summarize. So first lets do that flashback thing.

Arrival in Petersburg. Plane from helsinki arrived on time to what, at first, appeared to be an airplane hanger. It was the Petersburg airport. I did one of those hashtags followed by the word “Russia” and ignored the fact that there was only one runway and that the plane had to do a 360 turn on that one runway to get to the terminal. So I deplaned, passed through the passport control (which didnt give me any time or trouble) and picked up my bag to pass through customs (which consisted of 1 surly looking inspections guard). And then, I was officially in Russia. Knowing that the rest of my group would be arriving later, I stopped to eat a bit a cafe. 6 hours later, I was completely fatigued and unbelievably frustrated that not one person from my group had shown up yet. Cut to hour 7, when my JFK friend passed through customs offering me a bit of relief from the wait for the rest of the group. Hour 7:30, we were reunited and on our way into town…to begin a brief tour of Nevsky Prospect (the main strip) and check in at our hotel. Mind you, I’ve had an hour of sleep in those 24ish hours of travel. I was feeling fantastic. 

The first shock of the trip was acclamating myself to putting all those credit hours of Russian language study to use. It didnt go well at first. But I quickly adapted and have managed to order food, ask directions, and acquire important information concerning souvenir prices (read: vodka), cultural landmarks (read: bars), and purveyors of haute-gastronomie (read: mcdonalds). Just kidding Mom and Dad!!! kind of.

So then I came upon day 1! I mean day 2. Ive lost track really, jet lag and the nonstop touring has left me incapable of discerning. We gathered for early breakfast at the hotel and took off to view some fantastic cathedrals and monuments around town. One of the cathedrals is posted on my fb page. Its known as “Храм Спаса на Крови” (Khram Spasa Na Krovi-Church of the Savior on Spilled Blood). The spilled blood portion? Its where one of the Czar Alexanders (i think) was assassinated by bombing on his way back to the Winter Palace. 

Our next day was spent at the Summer Palace (Peterhof) which follows in the same tradition as those other great “summer” or “get-away” residences of Western Europe. It reminded me a lot of Versailles and turns out it was more or less modeled after the same. The palace was fantastic. The fountains were gorgeous (some played tricks on you). Over all I was very impressed with the extravagance of the estate. But then again, I’ve been impressed by a great deal of things over here, much of which I would have never expected. I mean I was convinced I would have ZERO access to internet or other such modern conveniences…I have yet to miss one single Facebook, Twitter, or LinkedIn update. I’ve realized Russia is not as behind as I thought it was. Of course…there have been things to make me think otherwise e.g. the man peeing on the street as our bus rode in the first day, people walking openly with beer and other spirits, and the abundance of “titters” (strip clubs) in the courtyard of our hotel. But we see all that in the US minus the open intox.

Our trip to Peterhof actually happened to fall upon the Russian “Day of Victory in Europe,” which serves as our 4th of July more or less. People we’re out by the thousands to celebrate this day, manifest and parade around. Throughout the day I was struck by a few things, the most significant of which being the Russian Federation and former USSR flags hanging side by side on buildings and street poles. It was so odd to me how closely these people live with their former regime. They still to this day take great pride in the great victory of the USSR over their fascist neighbors, hoisting banners of the communist party and Stalin’s portrait alike. For an American, it felt like a scene out of Red October. After reflecting a bit, I realized that it WAS the former USSR’s victory not the current Federation’s. I suppose a change of banners and government doesnt take away from that fact- especially for those who lived and served in the USSR. I made peace with it and went out with my group to experience their holiday. It was a great time. So great in fact, that we all ended up coming back to the hotel to pregame a bit and then go out. Here’s where it gets interesting…

So myself and two others ultimately ended up hitting the streets around 12:30 (or 1:00?) to see what Petersburg had to offer in the way of nightlife. We found nothing. Seriously nothing. But we did meet some great people along the way. We ended up asking for directions to bars near our hotel and everyone we stopped was extremely invested in helping us. The people were great, pulling out iPhones to show us on a map and even walking a bit of the way with us. We ended up walking up and down streets, searching and searching and finding nothing. We could not figure out what the deal was until we finally realized we were just too stupid to look at the actual signs on the buildings that said “bar.” Confused but still having a great time, we finally walked up to one. We got rejected for wearing shorts. But all was not lost, we had great adventure hunting down the “elusive” bars of St. Petersburg, laughing and meeting people the whole way. It was all too fun, so much more than I expected from Russia. 

So back to me in this lobby. I’ve written a lot. and I’m tired of my computer screen. I dont even think I spent this much time on my college essays (haha! jk mum). Time to go back partake in some classic Petersburg superstition- If you touch this monument at 12:00am exactly and make a wish, it’s supposed to come true. We see how it works out, I have already have everything I need.

Miss and love you all

Anastasia Beaverhausen