I cannot believe I’ve been here for a week! We all agree that it seems like its been longer, but I think that’s a good sign.
I dressed more appropriately for the weather today. I wrapped a thick scarf twice around my neck so that it felt more like an anaconda than an item of clothing when I was finished with it, but it came all the way up to my upper lip and my face felt less abused by the wind by the time I got to Smolny a little before 11 am. Magenta man ran past me again! What dedication.
Classes went well today. I don’t think I flailed that much, and I am continuing to learn lots of useful phrases. In fact, they’re so important and common that I learn them in class and can recognize them when I get home for dinner and talk to Nina Vasilievna. It’s so satisfying to enlarge my vocabulary! I feel like I’m becoming more of a human being with feelings and thoughts and less of, like, a baby troll.
After classes finished around 2:30 pm we had a quick information session about the computer lab and library here at Smolny. I, unfortunately, was too busy sending emails when I should have been paying attention. For some reason, I cannot access my email on my laptop, and therefore, I cannot draft emails and access links unless its on my iPhone, which can be extremely inconvenient when it comes to setting up appointments or whatnot on Google Calendar. Is it because Conn is mad at me for going abroad? WHY?!
When we got done, a bunch of us decided to go to the Russian Museum (I know, I know, which one?! This one is just of Russian artists), which is right next to the Church on Spilled Blood on Nevsky Prospekt. I think we were all glad we went. I didn’t know too many of the artists, but I did see a portrait of Russian poet Anna Akhmatova and a few works by Mikhail Vrubel, who came up in a few Russian classes of mine this past semester. More than anything else I wish my parents could have come with me. I know they would have enjoyed themselves and they would have been able to appreciate all the different artistic styles thanks to their lovely art degrees (it wasn’t ALL a waste your time, mom and dad!), which, to be honest, really meant nothing to me.
My favorite part of the entire museum turned out to be the temporary exhibit on what appeared to be Russian food. In sum, this was classy and sophisticated food porn, and I LOVED IT. There was some still life of actual plates with food on them (frozen in some curious clear liquid), a giant fish tank with a cucumber the size of a small toddler in it (not a real cucumber), a video of fish struggling to breath while they lay on ice at a market, tons of paintings of course, and this wicked cool piece of metal art. It was a cross section of a circular loaf of bread, and inside the hollow bread there was a hammer and sickle. Talk about THAT for symbolism! Woah!!
My favorite piece though had to be a large painting by Igor Peshkov, if I remember his name correctly. It was within this food exhibit, and apparently it was just painted last year in 2013. In short, this painting took up a big portion of the wall and depicted what looked like pieces of raw meat as they went through a metal grinder of sorts with sharp teeth and edges. The background was jet black, and the grinder and meat took up the whole painting, leaving very little extra (negative?) space. It wasn’t abstract at all, but instead incredibly realistic. For colors there was only black, white, and different shades of red and pink for the meat. Intrigued, I went up to the tag on the wall to the right of the painting to see who the artist was and what the painting was called. The painting was titled “Любовь” or “Love” in English. At first I took a step back and thought there was a mistake in the exhibit. Clearly this painting of meat being torn to pieces and ground up could not possibly be titled “Love.” It took me a few seconds to realize that there probably was no error here, and when I did, I laughed out loud with nobody else around me to hear except for the old babushka on the chair in the corner of the room who was probably staring me down to see if I would actually use the camera hanging around my neck (sadly pictures were not allowed in this museum). I took a few steps back to look at the painting with a new perspective, and I was suddenly flooded with thoughts about the dream I had last night in which I relived the horrors of my horrific fall semester. My dear Igor Peshkov, whatever is left of my own shredded, pulverized heart sympathizes with you.
Thankfully the metro station wasn’t too far away from the museum when we wanted to head home. When I got home and unloaded everything from my pockets, I found the change I received when I bought my ticket at the museum. Now, I SPECIFICALLY remember telling myself as I searched for my wallet while waiting in line at the box office that it would be a good idea to break my 1,000 ruble bill here because restaurants and supermarkets in Petersburg often times hate to give change back and sometimes just flat out can't. I’m pretty sure I paid with an 1,000 ruble bill, and when I got my change back I stuffed it in my inside coat pocket immediately, without counting. However, when I got home and pulled out my change, I only had 350 rubles. The ticket was 150. Either I lost 500 rubles, the lady in the box office forgot to give me 500 rubles, I paid with a 500 ruble bill instead of an 1,000 like I planned, or I am losing my mind. Don’t freak out mom and dad, 500 rubles is only $15 dollars, but still. I am PISSED OFF. Did that lady add wrong?! Did I drop my money during that 2 second interval it took me to take the money in my hand and then zip it up in my pocket?! I really hope I paid with a 500 ruble bill without knowing (I swear I saw a 500 ruble bill in her hand at one point...). Next time I’m going to do the arithmetic right in front of the cashier person, even if it takes me 10 minutes to do it or if I need to whip out the calculator on my phone to do the math. I love you David Neilan, but I still cannot do math and you are allowed to be ashamed of me. I know this is a truly boring and unnecessary anecdote, but ranting about it makes me feel less insane.
For dinner Alexander Grigorovich and I had buckwheat with vegatable stew and cabbage salad with cucumbers. Nina Vasilievna and Alexander Grigorovich asked me if I wanted any garlic. Garlic? There were full cloves of garlic in a bowl on the counter, and when Nina Vasilievna insisted that I eat it with my dinner, I got up and grabbed one. I held it in my hand wondering what in the world I do with it. Chop it up and put it in my stew? I couldn’t possibly just eat it raw. Confused, I held the garlic clove up in front of Alexander and asked if I just ate it as is. He said yes, and took a bite of his own clove right before following it up with a forkful of stew. Monkey see monkey do I guess! I didn’t mind it, but now my breath smells gross. Hah! I didn’t even think about it but at this very second I’m loading an episode of True Blood (and Game of Thrones duh). The irony.
Well, I’ve completed my homework and had a lovely successful Skype session. The rest of my night belongs to Bill Compton, Eric Northman, Ser Jorah and Rob Stark.
TIME TO INDULGE.
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