Things I won’t miss:

1. Fearing for my life every time I take a walk due to the ice that both lurks below my feet and ominously hangs above my head.
2. Толпа (crowd/mob): I like the efficiency of the metro and that I don’t have to drive or put any effort into getting around. However, it’ll be nice to not get pressed up against smelly men every day.
3. Bad cheese. Russia has imported cheese, which my host mom never buys, and it has swiss-like white fairly flavorless cheese that is usually deceptively marked as “gouda.”
4. Not having reliable Internet—I wrote this a while ago but haven’t had Internet to post it.
5. I don’t think customer service is even a phrase in Russian. Although I actually will miss being able to be fairly rude to serving staff (as that’s usually the only way to get anything), it’ll be nice to not have to ask for the check. On my birthday, a large group of my friends and I went out to eat at a Chinese restaurant. There were ten of us total and they gave us one menu—that’s what service is like in Russia.
6. It’s currently -17 degrees Celsius. Not going to miss that.

 

Bitter sweet goodbye

Everybody keeps asking me if I’m excited to go home and I still don’t know how to answer. Of course I am—seeing old friends and loved ones is always a pleasure and there’s always something to be said for that feeling of being “home.” I think Russian has it right in the way it uses the word Дом (home). While when saying “I am in Russia” would use the construction “Я в России,” “I am home” ditches the “В” preposition that is obligatory in every other “I am” phrase and simply is “Я дома.” Similarly, every other construction around “home” differs from others—perhaps because nowhere else is ever quite like home.

Despite all these feelings of “going home” and going back to family, friends and boyfriend, I can’t help but be at the same time immensely sad. The friends I’ve made here are from all over the world and I don’t know if I’ll see them again. The romantic side of me is skewing the famous quote “We’ll always have Paris” to “We’ll always have Peter,” and then once more to “We’ll always have Facebook.” However, I know that regardless of how scarily personal Facebook becomes, it will never replace human contact.

However, more than anything, I am going to miss my host family. That another family welcomed me into their home with such kindness and such generosity still amazes me. My host mom has done so much for me during my stay in Peter—and far beyond what I ever expected. She had to give me breakfast and dinner every day—but she also gave me fruit to bring with me for lunch and there was always a candy bowl on the kitchen table, which she kept full despite the fact that she herself doesn’t like sweets. She let me cook an entire Thanksgiving meal in her kitchen, and when I forgot the lid to the dish the sweet potatoes were in, she didn’t get angry even when it took me two weeks to get it back. She taught me how to make borsch from start to finish, a lesson which even included how to julienne carrots. My host mom was also required to do my laundry every week (most Russians are very protective of their washing machines so for most students, including myself, doing laundry oneself was not an option). Not only did my host mom take care of my clothes, but my host dad also helped me clean my boots every day of the salt and muck that frustratingly always accumulated on them. These same boots they took to get the nub on the heels replaced when the rough pavements and ice finally got to them. However, my host family not only took care of me physically—but also emotionally. Every time I had a bad day, my host mom immediately knew and we would talk about whatever it was, instantly making me feel better. The day after I lost my debit card, not only did she walk me to the bank to pick up money after at first I was not able to find it alone, but when we got home I saw that she had left a chocolate bar sitting on my desk. Today she gave me a farewell gift, afraid that we would not have time tomorrow, and we talked for a while. She told me that she had loved having me stay with them and that I had really felt like a daughter to her. I instantly and honestly responded that she had also felt like a mother to me.

Of course, the people I have met here will be missed, but so will the place itself. Peter, like any big city, has a life of its own. People joke that Russia only has three places: St. Petersburg, Moscow and Siberia. By this they mean that Russia has two big cities, and the rest is vast land and small towns. While this is changing, it’s still fairly true. In Chekov’s play “The Three Sisters,” the action happens in one of these small towns and one of the sisters, starry-eyed, dreams of “to Moscow!” Moscow to her doesn’t just represent a city, but promise, success, glamour, hope and excitement. This same mentality holds true for Petersburg as well. Living in Petersburg is like living in New York if the rest of the New England area looked like Kansas—it’s alluring and thrilling, and you dream of seeing the statue of liberty one day. Because it’s so big and such a dream city, you see all kinds of people. Having never left her hometown before, 20 years ago my host mom moved to Peter from over 700 miles away because she had dreams of a better life for her and her family.

That’s the kind of city Peter is. That’s the kind of place and the kind of people I’m leaving. And that’s why I can’t help but have mixed emotions.

 

Not a good story at all

So on Tuesday I lost my debit card—my only access to money in Russia. Now, don’t panic, I cancelled my card, ordered a new one that will be waiting for me when I arrive home, and had money sent to me in Russia so that I will be okay for the rest of my stay here. The only thing that ticks me off about the entire dilemma is that it is a ridiculously crumby story: I left it in an ATM. On Tuesday I went to an ATM to withdraw cash and the machine was out of money, having not received cash I walked away—forgetting my card. Not only did I do this incredibly stupid thing, but also then I didn’t even realize I didn’t have my card until 3 hours later, having gone to the banya with friends, steamed, dressed, gotten hungry, and gone to a grocery store. I could have hit myself. It turns out that if you do not withdraw your card from an ATM, it destroys it. I immediately cancelled my card just to make sure no one nefarious could glue together its remains and dealt with the issue—but what a lame story!

Other people in my program have had their wallets stolen, one was actually attacked—but I left my access to money sitting in a machine. You can do that anywhere! One girl had her wallet and cell phone stolen on the metro during a 3 second period when her purse, which normally she securely tucks under her arm, was yanked slightly behind her in a crowd. The kind of expertise necessary to take her things in so short a period is not found everywhere in the world. Another guy was walking alone at night after a night of partying and was physically threatened. He lost his wallet—but hey, at least he looks like a bad ass, even if he did back down when he saw they had a knife. One guy was in a similar situation but actually managed to get a jab in and run away—not only did he not lose any of his things, but also he has a GREAT story. Even my host Mom has been pick-pocketed, and she’s Russian (for some reason in my mind this makes her less susceptible)!

Although a quick Google search told me that I wasn’t the only person in the world to leave their card in an ATM, my mom’s “wait, what did you do?!” still stung. If I had some bruises or a scary story, I would have felt a lot better about explaining that I needed her to wire me money.

At least people in my program have done worse. Last year one girl lost her passport only a week before the program was to end. Lost here not meaning she was pick-pocketed or anything nefarious, she actually just simply lost it. It takes a long time to process things in Russia, and she ended up missing Christmas waiting for everything to get sorted out.

I’m sure in time I’ll think it’s really funny that I left my card in an ATM, but right now I just feel like an дура (idiot).

 

2 weeks

That’s all I have left here. It’s really starting to freak me out. Has it been four months already?? I have this irrational fear that I’m going to leave and have forgotten to do something or that I will regret not having done something. Looking at my semester though, I have enjoyed myself, learned a lot, experienced a lot, seen a lot and done a lot. So here are some random stories, in which I indulgently reminisce about stuff that isn’t over yet.

1. Пышки (Pweeshki) are like Russian donuts. They’re very simply fried dough covered in powdered sugar. They’re all over the city and like most stores in Russia they don’t have names like you’d find in the US (i.e. “Grandma Ann’s Donuts,” “Glazed Glories,” “Sprinkle Time”); they’re all just called “Пышки.” This is how most small stores work in Russia– little grocery stores have signs outside where you’d expect a name that just say “Продукти” (“groceries”), every butchers is called “свешая мяса(“fresh meat”) and even several bars even are just called “бар” (take a guess what that translates to). ” Off of Nevskii Prospekt is a little Пышки place that my grammar teacher told us about in class, and of which afterwards we have all become loyal patron. It is only 10 r for each donut and the decor has not changed since Soviet times. They literally only sell Пышки, coffee and tea, and you queue up, order how ever many you want, eat and then go. It’s fairly popular, but since it’s small and they really only sell donuts, it’s not exactly a place at which you sit with friends and chat over coffee. What makes them great is the Пышки are DELICIOUS. Always hot, always fresh and always greasy and sugary. Donuts and a Soviet experience– I’m gonna miss it.

2. Banya. I know I’ve already talked with about it, but man I love banya. A group of us go every Friday and it really is fantastic. Banya is like the poor man’s, do-it-yourself, but-with-a-group-of-your-closest-friends spa.

3. Стиляги (Stilyagi). It was a youth movement during the Soviet Union that was centered around an adoration for American culture. American music was officially outlawed in the USSR and thus Stilyagi would smuggle in records and listen to American music in private parties. Many bands also imitated American jazz styles, creating their own blend, which was also illegal. The movement of course covered much more than just music– Stilyagi dressed in somewhat ridiculous clothes, loud, bright colors, full skirts and startling patterns. They even used English words and American cultural terms to create their own slang phrases, like “гулять на брадвей” (to walk on broadway) to mean that they were simply walking on the main street of any given city (Nevskii Prospekt in Petersburg). The point of this history lesson is that my program had a Stilyagi party. We dressed up like Stilyagi, rented a club, and danced the night away to Stilyagi music. There’s a fairly recent Russian movie entitled Stilyagi, which is really terrific if anyone’s interested in learning more about the movement.

4. My host family. Today I didn’t really go anywhere or do anything. I read, watched TV, and talked to my host mom. She told me she’s really going to miss me when I leave in two weeks. And you know what? I’m going to miss her too.

 

Sneg storm

(Снег (sneg) = snow)

For the past week now, it has been snowing in St. Petersburg. And when I say the past week, I really mean for the entire past week it has been on again off again snowing and consistently in the low 20′s-low teens in temperature. The weather right before the snow came left a lot to be desired– the sun not rising until 9 am and going back down not long after 4 pm, always overcast, raining, cold but not cold enough that it wasn’t wet everywhere. The sun is still barely ever out and it’s still a very short window of day, but everything seems brighter and cheerier with the snow.

Apparently the snow came early this year and it’s surprisingly cold for November, but my host mom still insists it’s only fall. She had told me it’s not officially winter until it’s -20 degrees Celsius so perhaps winter will begin on Tuesday when the low is -7 degrees Fahrenheit. I am really enjoying our current weather but I have to say I am very glad I won’t be here for the ‘real’ winter. Apparently it’s not unusual for it to reach -40 degrees celsius, which by the way is where the Fahrenheit and Celsius scales are the same. I really don’t want to walk 30 minutes to school in that.

 

 

 

 

 

Be jealous

I was informed that my blog wasn’t as happy-go-lucky as other study-abroaders and I wanted to assure everyone back home that I am also studying less than I should and having a good time, as is expected from any study abroad program. I decided the only way to concretely prove this was through pictures, and since my Internet is strong, enjoy:

We toured the St. Petersburg Baltica factory and afterwards they gave us an hour to try out all the different kinds of beers they made there. For free, and it's not open to the public.

Just another day at Church

And yes, they're all this gorgeous. You just can't take pictures in most

Literally was built originally for a princess, no big deal, I go to school here. It also happens to be a winter wonderland

Best ballet in the world, premier of Anna Karenina

It says "Karl and Friedrix" as in the Commies. It was delicious too.

 

Images from Moscow and Berlin

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Garry Potter

As I’m pretty sure everyone in the world knows, the new Harry Potter (Or Garry Potter, as Russians say since there is no “h” sound in Russian) movie came out on Friday. Unfortunately, in St. Petersburg the only version that seems to be available is one that has been dubbed. You know what’s worse than the already bad acting in the Harry Potter movies? Bad acting that does match the bad voice-acting of the dubbers, who are by the way speaking a language you only kind of know.

I really don’t understand what’s so wrong with subtitles. I watch foreign movies with subtitles all the time, it doesn’t bother me. Subtitles are also cheaper– no voice actors and no messing with the original sound. Of course, Russians have managed to at times make dubbing extremely inexpensive as well. In some versions of Jackie Chan movies which I’ve watched segments of on TV, they only hire one voice actor. This means that the one actor simply raises his voice into a falsetto for female characters and puts on phony accents for each male character. This is then mashed on top of the original sound so to an English speaker that knows some Russian, both languages become impossible to understand. Now for old Jackie Chan movies, it actually doesn’t bother me that much– it actually just adds a level of comedy. However, that’s not okay for Harry  Potter. I mean, come on, it’s Harry Potter.

I guess I’ll wait until there’s a good illegal English version online.

Okay, one more thing about my trip

What surprised me the most about my time in Berlin has nothing to do with Berlin itself. What has been most eye opening is how much people in my program hate Russia—and so vocally complain about it.

Sure, Berlin has drinkable water, cars that stop for you and English speakers, but I don’t think that Russia is inferior because it doesn’t have those things. It’s different, but not bad. In Petersburg it’s a challenge to communicate, to cross the street or to quench your thirst, but that’s just how it is. Coming to Russia, I knew what I was getting myself into and I accepted it and I I’ve had bad days but most of the time I just laugh it off.  If I didn’t want to study a hard language, I would have learned Spanish. And if I didn’t want a challenging study abroad experience, I would have gone to Australia. Although I’ve been in Russia for 3 months now, I haven’t taken up the general Russian philosophy of fatalism. The answer to bad drinking water, inferior transportation and failing language skills isn’t complaint; it’s action.

 

Back from Berlin

What I liked best about Berlin:

1. There is an entire island dedicated to museums (museumsinel) and that’s just the start of the plethora of museums around Berlin.
2. Opposed to having to get off the Metro and then walk 20 minutes because where you want to go isn’t adequately covered by the Metro system, Berlin’s U-Bahn and S-Bahn system goes everywhere.
3. Culture everywhere. Berlin is a city for artists. In 1990, they let artists paint panels of the Berlin Wall and now it’s an art gallery. There is graffiti on almost every building—but amazing art, not street tagging.
4. I met a ton of nice people. On Thursday, I had met up with my friend, Dean (see his blog in my links), and we got dinner and just caught up for a few hours. On my way back home I ran but still missed the last train going back to my hostel. Another couple had been running for it too, and when we all missed it they asked me where I was going and I explained Oranienburger, and it wasn’t far, I was going to walk. I proceeded outside where I stood for a couple minutes examining a map and looking at the dark, rainy streets I was going to walk through back to the hostel. Just as I was getting out my umbrella the very same couple that had mad-dashed to the train with me come over and ask if I wanted a ride. They explained that they were getting a taxi anyway, and if I lived on route, they’d drop me off, “don’t worry about paying anything.” And so I got a free ride home. I don’t see that ever happening in Peter.

Why I’m still glad to be back in Peter:

1. I didn’t really mesh well with the group I went to Berlin with, and it’s been nice to be back around intelligent people who generally like me.
2. Berlin’s metro is expensive and confusing. Their maps and arrows all don’t make that much sense and their system is so expansive it’s easy to accidentally get on the wrong train. It also costs 2.10 E per ticket. I got a week-pass, which saved me money… kind of. It was 27.50 E for the week. Compare that to my 850 R ($25) that will last me a month in Peter.
3. I don’t have to do dishes, laundry, or worry about food.
4. There’s just something about this city. After meeting other students and hearing about Dean’s travels in Copenhagen, I realized how different my experience is. Instead of living in a Utopian European dream, I’m living in the opposite. However, that kind of makes it fun. Peter’s (and Russia’s) problems aren’t frustrating as much as they are endearing. After a semester in Western Europe, I think I would go home, thinking, “why don’t WE do this?” After a semester in Russia, the opposite reaction is true: “Thank GOD we don’t have this in America.”