Little Talks

Ok, disclaimer: I’m treating this blog as if it were a journal. By that I mean I’m writing most of this down for those that are interested in reading, but more so for myself to read years down the line. With that said, my entries will sometimes be LOOOOOONG so I can capture all the little details, again, just for myself even if nobody else reads. 

This was also written yesterday.

In any sense, I’m feeling really good about today! The first half of it was spent finishing up orientation at Smolny, where Michael and Elena continued to lecture us about different things we should be aware of. Today consisted of more cultural notes, health, going out (emphasis on drinking), making Russian friends, and host families. Once again, I know they didn’t mean to, but they managed to make me even more paranoid than I was yesterday. I forgot to note in yesterdays post that my rant of all the things I was afraid of were obvious exaggerations, and I want to underline that here too. The Bard-Smolny coordinators are purposefully giving us extreme cases so that we take extra precaution and that in most cases we probably won’t encounter these scary things, but it’s been working because I know I’ll have most of their horrific anecdotes in the back of my head for a while. I’m sure it’ll wear off as I become more comfortable here, but for now I am evermore cautious about entering restaurants that don’t look clean, for example (seems like a no brainer, but I kind of turn into an animal when I’m hungry so everything goes). 

Some points were more interesting, especially the information about the cultural sensitivity surrounding World War II and politics. Not that I can really voice my opinions about either in Russian at this point, but they advised us to avoid these types of topics. Why? Weeell, a lot of it has to do with the fact that most Americans cannot comprehend how much World War II absolutely obliterated Russia. We were told not to throw food out ourselves if we weren’t going to finish it because to a lot of families the effects of the siege of Leningrad and later, the 90s, still resonate with many Russians. I personally cannot understand that Russia’s second largest city was pretty much strangled of resourses. Michael told us that people were forced to eat rats and he even invoked the word “cannibalism”. By the way, the anniversary of the lifting of the 900 day (900 DAYS!) long siege will be celebrated here on Monday, and if you pay attention when you walk around you’ll see signs and flags on lamp posts. I’m looking forward to seeing how the city will celebrate, but seriously. Can you imagine if D.C. or New York or L.A. was starved to death for that long? Holy SHIT. No wonder the Russians are so opinionated. 

Along similar lines, if we want to stay on good terms with Russians, we can’t really mention anything about the American war effort during World War II because Russians believe that they did majority of the work. I don’t know that much about WWII to say whether thats wrong or right, but in an odd way I think its really cool that an entire population can feel so strongly and believe something so wholeheartedly so long after the fact (again, not saying that’s morally sound. Germany certainly felt united ideologically during WWII and that was obviously not acceptable). This is a good example of why I love history though- WWII may have ended almost 50 years ago, but its sooo not history to the Russians. It seems like it’s still a very recent memory. 

Michael and Elena also talked about other scary things like how we should walk closer to the street when we’re walking on sidewalks to avoid falling icicles that have apparently killed people before. All I could think about was the Grey’s Anatomy episode (yes, I’m going there) when Christina gets impaled by an icicle, except this is REAL LIFE and the icicles here are 10-12 FEET long. Even the prospects of getting treated by Owen Hunt wouldn’t bring me to risk having one of those fall on me (Dr. Shepherd is another story  ;). 

More things to avoid include the street called Doomskaya. It’s a well known street in St. Petersburg that’s filled with bars and clubs, and a lot of foreigners go there. Sounds good, right? WRONG. Apparently police do random raids there and ask for dokumenty often. People are violent, and drinks are notorious for being spiked there (sometimes by the bartender him/herself!). Isn’t the name of the street fitting? I won’t be forgetting that anytime soon. 

After we wrapped up and had lunch we rounded up all our suitcases and proceeded to get dropped off at our host families. Part of me was really nervous because I honestly cannot really express myself in Russian. I can say basic phrases and understand the jist of something and if someone doesn’t speak too fast, but even then I never understand every single word of what he or she says. I’m not being humble; it’s just the truth. Anyway, I was the first stop for those in the bus driving all over Vasilievsky Island because I live the closest to Smolny. Elena was nice enough to walk all of us up to our apartments and personally introduce us to our host parents, which comforted me a lot because greeting in Russian can be a lot to keep track of (or at least it was today. Do I shake hands? How do I address them?). Nevertheless, as I was pathetically dragging my 50 lb suitcase step by step up the first flight of stairs we happened to meet my host dad, Alexander Grigorevich, on the stairwell. He helped me with my bags, and as I said thank you I warned him that my suitcase was heavy. Normally I would try and do it myself because Alexander was clearly on his way out (I did try), but the gender roles here are still pretty conservative in Russia (enough to make some people really mad in the states, I would imagine), and with a nice reminder from Elena that I was a girl, I gave up and let him take my suitcase. Once I got to the top of the stairs and into the entrance of the apartment, I was greeted by Alexander, which really consisted of a string of words that meant NOTHING to me until he said, very clearly, that he was Alexander. I told him it was nice to meet him. Next I met my host mom Nina Vasilievna, who has a sweet, jolly look about her. I was told that she was around 55, but I think it’s outdated because they seem a little older. In any case, Nina led me into my room where I started to unload my stuff. I said goodbye to Elena, and thus began my interactions with Nina Vasilievna. 

In short, I think I’m going to love this woman. She seems like a happy, patient woman who was very welcoming and gave me a nice tour. I could understand bits and pieces of what she said, but I must have said that I didn’t understand at least 3 different times within the first handful of conversations. Oh well, to be expected. I stutter and get things wrong left and right, but she is understanding and helps me out when I’m stuck. She also likes to repeat words if I’m off grammatically or with my pronunciation, which I actually don’t mind whatsoever. In fact, I’m super happy she does. 

I unpacked in my room and prepared for my first mission: exchanging money. Nina Vasilievna gave me keys (there are 3 that I need to use to get from the street to her apartment) and she showed me how to use them. While it took me a good 5 minutes to open the door when I finally came back, I think I’ll get the handle of it soon enough. Eventually I crossed her street and entered “Bank Renaissance.” I noticed the ATM was out of order but went in anyway to a room with chairs in front of desks and whatnot. I think I was greeted (maybe ?) when, after I didn’t respond, a woman poked her head around the corner and I told her that I needed to exchange dollars into rubles. What I understood of her reply is as follows “something something something I’m sorry, we something something something. Something something something, lots of banks (with a point out the window) something something something.” Gotcha. I said thanks, goodbye, and I went out in search of another bank. I immediately spotted a few on the opposite street, but decided to walk around a while before I made my way over there. When I finally got inside the bank, I had to ask another woman the same question. She replied to me in gibberish and when she picked up that I had no idea what she was saying, she very kindly and patiently showed me where to go. I finally met a different woman and repeated my memorized line about exchanging money. We completed the transaction, but while we was printing whatever forms she needed to, I started thinking. I’m undoubtedly a foreigner that knows little Russian... They could have SO taken advantage of me and not given me the correct sum, and I wouldn’t have even know how to protest. Luckily I did the math quickly on my phone and checked the money before I left her counter. Success!

I left feeling pretty good. It was ugly and bumpy and awkward, but hey! I got my money. I decided to explore some more, and so I set off to find the nearest metro station, which happens to be a 10 minute walk from my apartment (SCORE). I walked for half an hour more, passing numerous cafes, bars, restaurants, and shops while making mental notes about coming back to them. I also noticed a KFC, Burger King, Pizza Hut, and the prettiest McDonalds building you’ve ever seen. There was even one singer on the street who sang “It’s Complicated” and “Bring Me to Life.” Interesting choices...

I made it back in time a little bit before dinner. I found out that Nina’s husband was out for dinner, so it was just us two (is that him now? He’s back). I was incredibly nervous about sitting through a dinner with this woman, worrying how in the world I was going to talk, but I surprised myself! I have low expectations for myself, which I think is good at times because I’m happy with our conversations and anytime I understand something. I talked about my family and asked about hers, and we talked about food. She quizzed me about the names of the food on my plate (SHE’S PERFECT FOR ME), and I really got into it. After the main course which was delicious (chicken, some pepper vegetable dish, and mashed potatoes with carrots mixed in) we had blini with some jam made with a fruit from Georgia that she helped me pronounce throughout dinner (fey-who-ah). Then, when we were done, we talked some more about my classes and then she quizzed me about what was in my bedroom according to their relation to one another. After that, we went over all the different things on the walls of her kitchen, her having me practice reading off of posters, her correcting my pronunciation, and her explaining to me words I didn’t know in Russian. I feel more comfortable than I thought I would making mistakes in front of her, and she told me to go relax when I offered to help in the kitchen. 

Now, I’m going to curl up in bed and get back to Eat Pray Love. Nina and Alexander don’t have internet here, which I say is nice because it forces me to read and study instead of watch reruns of True Blood or Game of Thrones. It’s kind of like camping. But I only like camping for a few days, which is why I plan on buying a jump modem tomorrow. 

AFTER WE GO VISIT THE CHURCH ON SPILLED BLOOD YES YES YES!

I have to take the metro by myself tomorrow- wish me luck!

P.S. Nina and Alexander have a cat, Emelya, that has such a distinct personality. He has one of those faces that distinguish those fluffy, stub nosed/face cats that make them looked pissed all the time, but he came into my room (I could hear his nails get stuck in the rug) and told me he wanted some attention. He liked to be pet like a dog behind the ears, but he quickly batted my hand away when I went to scratch his belly. Adorably feisty.