So. Much. Dead. Animal...

Блог 3

         So I decided to take a rather uneventful week and talk about everyday life for me here. I have class five days a week and on weekends… well I've only had one free weekend so far and I already wrote about the ballet, but mostly I just hang out. So, every morning in the dark at around 8:30 I head out the door for the short-but-bitterly-cold walk to the metro station. On my way I usually fall on the ice at least once, get talked to by creepy dudes, or get yelled at for not understanding a simple phrase like, "please move". The harassment is the worst, but I'll get to that later.

          So the metro. The metro is far worse than any public transport I've ever taken anywhere and that includes Beijing. The metros in Petersburg are not the gorgeous pieces of art like in Moscow. In fact if you go to the end of the orange line, the station is positively Soviet. I've talked about metro face before, but I have found that after only three weeks, when someone smiles on the metro I stare at them and wonder what could possibly have happened to have made them so happy. All I know is it was probably bad for me if it made someone else happy… There is no such thing as personal space. I've had people so close to me I'm pretty sure they'd sit in my lap if they didn't think I'd have them arrested. There are far more people on the trains and trying to get to the  escalators than I have ever seen in that small of a space before in my life. They press around you until you are herded by metal gates like a funnel until your neighbors are so close to you, you could lift up your feet and they would carry you through the pressure of how hard they are pushing up against you all the way to the escalator. The first time this happened I had a mini freak out. The second time, the same thing happened. So far nothing has been stolen. You'd think that this would be a prime situation to knick things out of bags and pockets, but I think that it's the worst because your arms are pinned to your sides so there's no way thieves can move. That's all for the better. 

A picture of the old wooden buildings in
Novgorod which should have been
in the 

          After the metro I grab a mashrootka (which is kind of like a bus but smaller and not really official) or the CIEE program bus that shuttles all the cute Americans to and from school. Then I check my coat (it's rude to wear coats in class) and eat the breakfast that my host mom packed me. Then I spend way too long in class and even longer trying to get the school's wifi to agree with my phone, and eat a sketchy but 110 ruble lunch from the school café. Then it's back on the mashrootka to the metro or a café or bar or on Monday nights to the ONLY Mexican restaurant in Petersburg. The margaritas are almost right and so are the nachos. Frankly it's as close as we can get, so we're taking it, and calling it Margarita Mondays. After that I go home and eat something super starchy and sketchy and oddly crunchy, drink massive quantities of tea and try to hash out a conversation about life, the universe, and everything with my doesn't-speak-a-word-of-English host mom and my limited vocabulary. So far I have been very vague about everything, very basic, and she has gone on for a half hour, looked at me, smiled sadly and say, "You didn't understand a word I just said, did you?" To which I look sheepish and shrug and say, "Choot choot" (just a little). Whenever I actually eat all she wants me to she tells me how good of a girl I am and calls me zaichek which means bunny and is a very sweet endearment for children.

The side of the Hermitage at night.

         On my way to school, the metro, anywhere, the biggest change between Colorado and Russia is by far the fashion. Specifically, the coats. One word- fur. So much dead animal! I have (almost) gained far more of an appreciation for these fur coats, hats, boots, everything. The women are just dripping with fur and without it you are actually terribly noticeable. It is both a status symbol and completely practical here given how much standing and waiting we do which makes everything colder. It's truly terrifying how much fur you can buy and all the different kinds of dead animal people are willing to wear here. There are no bounds to the fur… 

So very many dead hats... And my
friend Chris in the back there.

       That is about all for daily life, which is generally good and pleasant if bitterly cold at times, but there is one thing here that I haven't been able to take with good grace and humor. That is the everyday creepiness that I encounter wherever I go. I'd probably be more upset about the situation if I didn't know that it's not just me, and I talk to my host mom about it all the time and she always makes me feel better. The most important thing is to not panic or be paranoid, and to understand that (for the most part) this is a part of everyday winter life here. Every day I encounter some form of super creepy Russian man-ness. Whether on the metro or the street, at a bar or in our school's hallway, I get… well the closest though not at all accurate word is, hit on. I have been followed home, which was by far the worst, creeped on at a bus stop, and called 25 times in one week by the Doorman at SPB (that bar I told ya'll about) because he stole my phone and called himself from it. He stopped calling, and I went to a different SPB Saturday night (they are like Starbucks here, one outside of every metro) and he was working so now he has started calling again. Anyways, I was followed home from the metro by a middle-aged man who kept asking if I was married and where I was from and if I had a cell phone number he could have. That was very scary. The other day started as a good one- no one had done anything at all creepy yet, until on the metro when a guy started making these "kissy" type motions and noises at me and I gave him my best metro-face-I-will-murder-you stare. I've had a guy running down an escalator going down into a metro do a full stop, stare, smile and keep running. I've seen that happen a few times to Russian girls, but that didn't make it any less disconcerting. Another time I was walking to the metro at sunrise and a guy just stepped right in front of me and said, "takaya krasivaya" (how pretty is a roughish translation) and then went back to his conversation. There are a few more but those are the most memorable, and the most upsetting. 

Fireworks and Peter and Paul Fortress across the Neva.

          Don't get me wrong, it's not normal for people to be harassed or anything, just weird stuff keeps happening all around me. This week wasn't totally uneventful. Saturday night was amazing because Saturday was men's day and on men's day they do a salute from Peter and Paul Fortress, which involves shooting off tons of fireworks so you can watch them from across the Neva. Winter fireworks are something everyone should see. They were so loud and echo-y that car alarms started going off all over the city. After this we went to the SPB in which the overly friendly doorman was working, and ended up in the middle of what was basically a Russian game show, complete with a crushed velvet sport jacket wearing host and three VERY scantily clad Russian women. The goal, we soon learned, was to guess which show or game the song playing was the theme of (grammar skills missing, if found please call Cate). Then there was some dancing with the girls and we waited two hours for beer that never came, so we left. Very odd. That was my whole week, and I am hoping that next week will be, if not more eventful, more interesting. Hope all in Denver are enjoying their snow and everyone else has seen the sun more than once this week!

In Russia, blog posts you...?

Блог 2 

         So it's been two weeks in Russia and boy has it been a long two weeks… My first weekend here I went to the Hermitage which was one of the more amazing places I have ever been in my life, and I could probably spend the rest of my four months in Russia there without ever noticing. The weather has been, in a word, wet. It's either snowing, about to snow, or just snowed. The sun came out for about one whole day (maybe five or six hours) last week which made me feel better, but other than that it stays a lovely 

My absolute favorite room in the Hermitage so far,
with a smaller replica of a mosaic from the Vatican
inlaid in the floor and chandeliers everywhere...

monotone gray. I have officially, as of right this minute, seen the sun a total of 3 hours since I got here. I get over it by pretending that I'm in a black and white movie... Only I'm not. It's just dark. It's genuinely not as cold as I feared or expected. There are definite moments when the cold is bitter and wet and cuts pretty deep, but no more cold than the mountains in Colorado, but currently there is a lot more snow here. I wish I could send some of what I'm getting home. 

Smolny Cathedral, the Political Science dept. of
St. Petersburg State University. Yes,
I googled this image but right now it's gray and
sad and snowy....

          Classes have been interesting. I was put into a lower group than I should have been and I was trying to move up one higher, but the groups are limited to ten people and I would have been eleven. I'm mildly annoyed but decide to make the best of it. So far I have been to three classes, grammar, conversation and phonetics. All are lovely and interesting and I am very interested in what we talk about, but I also don't have to work. My conversation teacher has decided that since I am on a higher comprehension level than the rest of the group, I will be her helper. My excitement is through the roof… My school is quite an awesome place. I study inside of Smolny Cathedral, which was a monastery and then a school for girls and now houses the political science department of St. Petersburg State University. It is beautiful and old and blue and church-like. This week was the first week of class with Russian students in the building at the same time, and they continue to look at the American students with that little smirk, like they think we are little kids or little ugly ducklings. I have two electives that are not language related, though they are both still taught in Russian, one of which is a political/cultural comparative between the United States and Russia, and the other is about the New Culture in St. Petersburg, or something. I'm not really sure. So far it has been a general history class. I already feel like three language classes is enough and exhausting, so two more should be a fun challenge.

          Over the weekend we went to Novgorod, which in Russian means New City. This is funny because Novgorod is the absolute opposite. I think they told me why it is called that, but my tour was in Russian and our lovely tour guide really enjoyed talking. And talking. And talking. Novgorod is colder than Petersburg, and the ground is wetter, and we tended to stand in one place for very long periods of time. That was less than fun. The sights were very interesting, though. A few churches, the old wooden houses and more old churches… The wooden houses were the most interesting and different because I had seen pictures of them but never been in one or seen one, so that was very cool. In this little village, they brought a bunch of wooden houses together from around Russia and rebuilt them in a kind of outdoor museum to make a mock village. There were also cute outdoor snow games and swings and more snow than you knew what to do with. Overall it was a good trip although my personal health suffered greatly from it.

Homeopathic garlic necklace....

          That brings me to my lovely host mom Larisa Sergeevna. Larisa Sergeevna is a wonderful woman. (Quick explanation. It is rude to call someone older or that you don't know by their first name alone, so you call them by first and middle name, their patronymic. It's the name of their father with a specific ending, so Larisa's father's name was Sergei). She is like an aunt with a great sense of humor, opinions about everything that she is willing to share, and the most mediocre cooking skills of anyone I know. She packs me breakfast every morning and I usually end up with some bread and cheese and ham that was microwaved to melt the cheese and left in tinfoil on the table overnight. Dinner is always an exciting event because I never know what I'll get, be it some form of fruit, pancake, pie, tortilla mixture (not my favorite) or hot dogs with sautéed potato and onion. We get along very well and she is very understanding about my lingual limitations. While I was away in Novgorod she came into my room and gave me new sheets (animal print) and 

My host mom's daughters dog, Fabian (I think that's his name)
who lives with us....

pillow cases and a big glass table, which was very thoughtful. I am pretty sick right now, and Russian are very well known for their homeopathic remedies- most of which involve garlic. So the other night I went to bed with a necklace of peeled garlic cloves that I was supposed to sleep in, because I had a sore throat. I had to do that two nights in a row. She is very sweet and made me warm milk with honey to help my throat, and has put up with my cough wonderfully. Today she helped me battle an ATM and helped me pay for my internet which was driving me crazy.

My lovely friends, Sasha and Anya at the
Mikhailovsky Theatre waiting for
the ballet to start.

          Friday night I went to the ballet which should have been super awesome and the first three acts definitely were wonderful, but everyone is pretty confused because we went to see Swan Lake and in the end (if you don't know the ending, I'm still going to ruin it for you because seriously, how do you not know the ending to Swan Lake? Didn't you see Black Swan?) they lived happily ever after and the bad guy died. I don't know about you, but when I go to see the Russian ballet, I expect tragedy and classic endings. I got neither. After the ballet we went to a bar called SPB which is the cheapest bar in Russia and there is one every few blocks, and I made a few Russian friends who worked at the bar and that was that.

          Other than all that, life is progressing as one would expect. Meeting new people. Finding the only Mexican restaurant in Petersburg and their very delicious margaritas, spending a lot of time walking in the absolute opposite direction I'm supposed to and falling on the ice. Frequently. Hopefully the sun will come out to play again soon and everyone's moods will lift. It's very hard to be super Denver-style friendly to surly "metro-faced" Russians. That's all for now. I am sure I will have far more to say when the time comes!

I leave you with the words of my political culture professor,

" Russians laugh at some things, and others cry…"

Study Ablog

Блог Номер Один

          I have been trying to decide what this travel blog should be about, and have come to realize that that is like trying to decide what I would like my entire experience abroad to be about. There are many new things I could focus on, like the differences between the United States and Russia, the legacies of its history, school, language… The list goes on. But there is one thing in which I have always been interested, and that is what is known as the "enigmatic Russian soul" (seriously, stay with me- I swear the pretentious part is almost over. I promise this is a real thing that Russians themselves believe). Something about the Russian people is so very  unique that they have been given this title. I never really believed in the existence of the enigmatic Russian soul- I always thought- they are no different than any other country of people… But as I sit here at 8:00 in the morning in the dark (the sun will be fully up in a little over two hours) in a beautiful old apartment that has high ceilings, wood floors, big(ish) rooms and a view of the Hermitage, St. Isaac's Cathedral and Peter and Paul Fortress that kept me speechless for about ten minutes- I do believe that there is something unique about this place. 

The view out my window at
sunrise (~10:00 am)

The people here have something to offer that no one else in the world has. Whether it is my host mother, Larisa Sergeevna, her very best friend, Larisa, or her extremely ugly dog, Fabian (he's a Chinese Crested)- there is something secret that these people know. A communal secret that they all keep behind a slight smirk on their face after you say something they can't understand, don't agree with or generally just think you are being a silly girl. They know something about what you will face and always seem to be waiting to judge how you will handle it. Maybe it will be a little babushka on the subway yelling at you on the metro or a mashrootka driver that refuses to give you change, they know you will have to face these things and they are waiting to decide what to do with you.

          On my flight from Frankfurt to St. Petersburg, I was seated next to a very well dressed Russian man. Everyone else in my program was sitting next to another student, but here I was, as only I know how to be, sitting next to a young Russian man. So of course we started to talk and he kept that little judgmental- "I know something you don’t know" smirk on his face the entire three hour flight. I noticed this smirk but have seen it before and so thought nothing of it as I carefully discussed things like Putin and Pussy Riot without giving too much of my opinion away. He seemed entertained by my cautious approach to the conversation, and generally found something about the situation funny. Russians act as though all foreigners tickle them in some way, and I have a strange urge to act in a way that makes them stop. After the flight we landed in gray, snowy St. Petersburg and proceeded to spend two and a half days in a hotel, cooling our heels and listening to orientation lectures. Overall, these were only good for making friends and realizing that some things you simply have to shrug and say, "well that's Russia". The important part is to know what is simply "Russia" and what isn't. One of the first things we were told about was the existence of the "metro face", which is the face you use when sitting on the metro so that no one talks to you. Americans have a weird habit of smiling to themselves or other people in public places, but that is a sure way to get robbed, hit on, or both in Russia. It is an almost neutral expression with a hint of menace. I have yet to perfect my metro face, because I either start laughing or look like I'm going to murder you. I'm trying to find a neutral medium.

          Saturday we went on a bus tour and visited our school which is breathtaking. Around 4:00 our host parents came to pick us up, which was rather terrifying. 86 students sitting in a room waiting for their name to be called as we all watch as one by one, we wonder if we'll ever see them again and wonder why we are still sitting here. It was a very nerve racking experience overall. Finally you leave and get into the taxi and watch as wonderful and horrible buildings pass by you, wondering which one will be yours until finally you are there. Larisa Sergeevna lives on Vasilievsky Ostrov (island), which is the island across the Neva river to the west. It is a very old building about one block away from the light pink church in which Catherine II married Peter III many years ago (I'm pretty sure that's what Larisa Sergeevna's friend Larisa told me but it was in Russian and I was very tired and trying to translate at the same time...). 

The Church in which Catherine the Great
married Peter the III, 2 minutes from
my apartment.

Right next door is the apartment in which President Putin lived when he was little. There is more history on this one block than there is in my whole city. We went for a walk in the bitter cold with her friend, Larisa and her study abroad student, Bianca from California. Bianca's Larisa speaks some English, though mine does not, which is a good thing because Bianca doesn't speak any Russian and I don't want to speak any English. The walk was very cold but good to see what all is near us. We have a gorgeous walking street with tons of restaurants, bars and coffee shops about five minutes away, along with a very nearby metro stop.

          After about a ten minute bus ride Sunday morning we arrived at the Hermitage and I slid across the snow covered courtyard in my traction-less boots and looked very Russian with my scarf covering my hair to protect it from the snow. The building is stunning and blue and big and amazing and the inside reflects that. Larisa Sergeevna is not a fan of how extravagant it is and says there is too much gold everywhere and is too dorogo which has a few translations but can mean fancy, expensive, elaborate, etc. I think that since I have been to so many Western European cathedrals, museums and chateaus I am "used" to the extravagance and no longer think of it as gaudy but how a museum is supposed to look. My friend Anya and I were very excited to be in the ballroom of the Winter Palace because Anastasia's Romanov family had been there so we waltzed like Meg Ryan did in the movie together. These public displays are frowned upon by Russians, but since no one did more than frown we decided we were ok. We saw two paintings by da Vinci, a few Rembrandts and a Michelangelo, along with hundreds of other amazing pieces, including the really cool peacock clock from Catherine the Great's secret husband, Potemkin. The Hermitage is second in size only to the Louvre, and it would have taken far longer than the hour and a half tour we had to see and appreciate everything, but since it was only the fourth day in the city I think I can live with that.

The Michelangelo at the Hermitage-
The Crouching Boy

          Tomorrow we have our first day of school, and placement tests which means that the Russian that I haven't studied since finals in December is about to have holes poked in it to see where it's weakest. I told Larisa Sergeevna how nervous I was but she said not to worry because her last American girl was in the intermediate class and she was far less understandable than I am. She says I speak pravilno, which simply means correctly, and that I have no accent. That's all good news but I am still nervous. I'll go to school in the dark tomorrow, but I hope I won't come home in the dark too. More ramblings later. For now I must catch up on sleep and think about studying. Or both. We shall see what is to come.