Study Ablog

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          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.