So, after another 1.5 hours at the post office, a new box, and about $50, the parcel has been sent. Why a new box? Apparently, in Russia your box is not good enough. You must mail it in a blue box with Pochta Rossii written all over it. Also, you must write out in words the value of the contents of the box. Are they trying to decide whose box is worth raiding? (It really does happen - the customs officials somewhere along the way helped themselves to some candy from one of the other girls' box...) The actual writing of these numbers was the problem, since Mrs. GrumpyPants, the postal employee, having already established that I was a foreigner who didn't speak the language fluently, uses some crazy verb, rather than just doing things the simple way. Fortunately, the lady behind me in line had more mercy (and she probably realized that helping me would expedite her turn), and she broke things down into simpler language.
I sent it by land (or by sea, in this case), as air mail would've cost $80, and that's more than the stupid box was worth. I don't know when it's arriving in the States - I asked the grumpy lady at the post office how long it would take, and she said that once it leaves Russian borders, she doesn't know (nor did she really care). So, Erica, your present is on its way to the States - I just don't know when it'll get there. (And are you thinking Paris in the fall?)
Weather-wise, it's been snowing pretty much constantly for the past several days. Falling snow is a) pretty when you're inside, b) an excellent distraction when they're trying to teach you basic verb conjugation AGAIN (got it already - moving on...), c) good news, since snow has better traction than ice, and d) a pain when it's not falling so much as shooting parallel to the ground, and into your face. I went to lunch at an Italian place with some of the kids from my class on Wednesday, and by the time we got to the restaurant (less than a mile from school), I looked like I'd dumped a bucket of water on myself. Soaked hair, runny mascara, the whole nine yards - it was just lovely. Perhaps this is why so many Russians rock the Eskimo hoods on their parkas (even so, they still look silly. Just sayin').
Y'all are amazing and awesome and other adjectives, including some that don't begin with the letter "a". I love hearing from everyone - take care and stay warm! And if you're feeling very kindly disposed towards me, do me a favor and let me know where you're living in the fall. I'm trying to puzzle this out, but not being around complicates matters...
Anyhow, have a wonderful Friday!
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Monday, November 26, 2007
Going Postal, Russian-style
So, today I spent 2.5 hours at various offices of the Russian postal service. And I am still in the posession of the parcel I was attempting to ship. Yes - after standing in lines, sealing and unsealing pacakges, filling out forms, and asking questions in broken Russian, all while wearing my heavy overcoat indoors, for TWO HOURS, I still couldn't mail the package.
Why? Because for some reason known only to the Russians, all printed materials must be mailed separately from everything else. The girl at the post office made me cut through all my taping and labelling and remove the three books packed in carefully with everything else and told me I had to take them somewhere else. As I was sawing through the taping with my house keys, the man next to me in line kept instructing the girl to give me a knife. She didn't - maybe she could tell I was beginning to consider using it on her... Then she told me that I had to fill in the weights for each object in the box. Since the point of the exercise was to clear out space in my suitcase, not rack up obscene shipping charges, I just replaced everything in the box and left, the very picture of a cool and collected young lady.
Ok, I actually sorta stuffed it all back in, as best I could, and then went outside to cool off and cry. One of the ladies who'd been in the office, too, came and found me and explained how I needed to take the books to one office, but that I could do everything else there, and that it was okay if I needed to ask them to repeat, and that I didn't need to cry. I'm repacking the box, so I couldn't go back, but I really did appreciate that kindness.
It probably wouldn't have been that traumatic, except the post office was packed, so everything was a bunch of hurry up and wait. See, it takes a week for mail to get from Voronezh to Moscow and vice versa, so anything conducted by mail has to be done well in advance. Thus, their Christmas/New Year rush has already begun. I think they may insist on wrapping my package in brown paper and string (hear that, Mom? String - your favorite!) before they'll mail it - we'll see. My personal favorite was the lady who appeared to be sewing a shroud around her box. I have absolutely no idea why, but she wiggled it into a tight white bag, and then she was sewing - needle and thread and all - the ends up like you wrap a present. Weird.
Anyways, don't mail stuff in Russia. Just don't do it.
Why? Because for some reason known only to the Russians, all printed materials must be mailed separately from everything else. The girl at the post office made me cut through all my taping and labelling and remove the three books packed in carefully with everything else and told me I had to take them somewhere else. As I was sawing through the taping with my house keys, the man next to me in line kept instructing the girl to give me a knife. She didn't - maybe she could tell I was beginning to consider using it on her... Then she told me that I had to fill in the weights for each object in the box. Since the point of the exercise was to clear out space in my suitcase, not rack up obscene shipping charges, I just replaced everything in the box and left, the very picture of a cool and collected young lady.
Ok, I actually sorta stuffed it all back in, as best I could, and then went outside to cool off and cry. One of the ladies who'd been in the office, too, came and found me and explained how I needed to take the books to one office, but that I could do everything else there, and that it was okay if I needed to ask them to repeat, and that I didn't need to cry. I'm repacking the box, so I couldn't go back, but I really did appreciate that kindness.
It probably wouldn't have been that traumatic, except the post office was packed, so everything was a bunch of hurry up and wait. See, it takes a week for mail to get from Voronezh to Moscow and vice versa, so anything conducted by mail has to be done well in advance. Thus, their Christmas/New Year rush has already begun. I think they may insist on wrapping my package in brown paper and string (hear that, Mom? String - your favorite!) before they'll mail it - we'll see. My personal favorite was the lady who appeared to be sewing a shroud around her box. I have absolutely no idea why, but she wiggled it into a tight white bag, and then she was sewing - needle and thread and all - the ends up like you wrap a present. Weird.
Anyways, don't mail stuff in Russia. Just don't do it.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Holy Updates, Batman!
So despite yesterday's marathon post, I feel the need to write still more. So consider it a gift for procrastination, or roll your eyes, pretend you read it, and go back to studying. Whatever floats your boat.
Part of this constant updating is probably partially my way of dealing with my lack of roommate these days - I have one-sided conversations with the great unknown Internet. I can't wait until I can go back to having two-sided conversations with y'all.
Other news from the Russian front: we went to the puppet theater on Friday to see a show. The theater itself is very pretty - it's in the Voronezh album (the clock with flying figures and the dog and all). The show we saw was "The King's Striptease", roughly. Of course, when our teacher was telling us about it, all we caught was "striptease", "Hans Christen Anderson", and "puppets", which left us with some interesting ideas, of course. It was a political satire with the rough framework of "The Emperor's New Clothes", but we didn't figure that out until the second act. It was done as a mix of live-action and puppetry - ie, you could see the puppeteers at all times. Overall, it was pretty interesting, but it would've helped if I understood more of the political references and such.
Life at the apartment has been interesting today. The hozhaika didn't get up until I was leaving for church this morning (technically, the dog woke her up, since he didn't approve of my leaving...). She paniced that I hadn't eaten, but I reassured her that I'd cut a piece of the apple pirog on the table, and then I bought a cinnamon roll on the street, too.
When I got home from church, after another round of bus-related fun (riding the bus is not difficult. I don't know what my problem is of late), I'd already bought two rolls for lunch, and I was only in the kitchen because I wanted to locate the butter and toast them, right? She instead informs me that she and Sasha had leftover fish from last night for breakfast (at this point I became very thankful that I'd missed breakfast), and that now I was going to eat some, too. It was not a "would you like some fish?", it was a "You are going to eat some fish" as she put it on a plate. This is, in fact, very common with the hozhaikas here - they are all determined to make all of us very fat. Refusing food or asking for a smaller portion requires a great deal of patience and determination - it's actually kind of funny.
I started Christmas shopping in earnest yesterday. The lady from whom I am purchasing most of y'alls presents already loves me, and I haven't bought everything yet. It's the beginning of a beautiful thing. The hozhaika probably thinks I'm crazier than usual, though, since I have all this random stuff stacked around my room (I'm going to try and put a box in the mail home tomorrow, so I don't have to make everything fit in my suitcase).
Russia's not far behind the US in commercialization, so everything's either decorated or in the process of becoming so. Since they decorate trees for New Year's, I've taken to referring to any decorate pine tree I see as a "Tree of Indeterminate Holiday", since I don't know whether they're for Christmas (in January) or New Year's. There are lots of Ded Moroz (Grandfather Frost) figures up to, all of which are basically Santa Claus. Actually, I think a lot of them are Western Santas that have just been renamed...
And that's all for now, folks. Much love!
Part of this constant updating is probably partially my way of dealing with my lack of roommate these days - I have one-sided conversations with the great unknown Internet. I can't wait until I can go back to having two-sided conversations with y'all.
Other news from the Russian front: we went to the puppet theater on Friday to see a show. The theater itself is very pretty - it's in the Voronezh album (the clock with flying figures and the dog and all). The show we saw was "The King's Striptease", roughly. Of course, when our teacher was telling us about it, all we caught was "striptease", "Hans Christen Anderson", and "puppets", which left us with some interesting ideas, of course. It was a political satire with the rough framework of "The Emperor's New Clothes", but we didn't figure that out until the second act. It was done as a mix of live-action and puppetry - ie, you could see the puppeteers at all times. Overall, it was pretty interesting, but it would've helped if I understood more of the political references and such.
Life at the apartment has been interesting today. The hozhaika didn't get up until I was leaving for church this morning (technically, the dog woke her up, since he didn't approve of my leaving...). She paniced that I hadn't eaten, but I reassured her that I'd cut a piece of the apple pirog on the table, and then I bought a cinnamon roll on the street, too.
When I got home from church, after another round of bus-related fun (riding the bus is not difficult. I don't know what my problem is of late), I'd already bought two rolls for lunch, and I was only in the kitchen because I wanted to locate the butter and toast them, right? She instead informs me that she and Sasha had leftover fish from last night for breakfast (at this point I became very thankful that I'd missed breakfast), and that now I was going to eat some, too. It was not a "would you like some fish?", it was a "You are going to eat some fish" as she put it on a plate. This is, in fact, very common with the hozhaikas here - they are all determined to make all of us very fat. Refusing food or asking for a smaller portion requires a great deal of patience and determination - it's actually kind of funny.
I started Christmas shopping in earnest yesterday. The lady from whom I am purchasing most of y'alls presents already loves me, and I haven't bought everything yet. It's the beginning of a beautiful thing. The hozhaika probably thinks I'm crazier than usual, though, since I have all this random stuff stacked around my room (I'm going to try and put a box in the mail home tomorrow, so I don't have to make everything fit in my suitcase).
Russia's not far behind the US in commercialization, so everything's either decorated or in the process of becoming so. Since they decorate trees for New Year's, I've taken to referring to any decorate pine tree I see as a "Tree of Indeterminate Holiday", since I don't know whether they're for Christmas (in January) or New Year's. There are lots of Ded Moroz (Grandfather Frost) figures up to, all of which are basically Santa Claus. Actually, I think a lot of them are Western Santas that have just been renamed...
And that's all for now, folks. Much love!
Saturday, November 24, 2007
The Rumors are True - I'm Still Alive...
Argh. Blogger just ate the start of this post. So, to recap, Hi, I'm here, I'm sorry it's been a while, and is H going emo, because I need to know if I should start looking for recipes.
I hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving. Ours was probably the most traditional non-traditional set-up I've been to. The university provided turkeys (which actually turned out to be of decent size) and some other bits, the weirdest of which was definitely the random inclusion of tuna. We pot-lucked the rest - most of the boys couldn't be compelled to cook, so they brought drinks, Lindsey managed to prepare a tub (literally- think RubberMaid) of stuffing, there were some vegtables, Laura managed pumpkin pie, and I made PinkStuff.
The actual name is GreenStuff, since when the recipe is followed correctly, the end result is a pale green. However, as I think everyone cooking discovered, trying to find ingredients in a foreign country is kind of complicated. I couldn't find pistachio pudding, so I substituted strawberry and I ended up crushing whole canned strawberries instead of having crushed pineapple. I'm really glad my hozhaika wasn't home while I was cooking, since she probably would've been kind of alarmed. I couldn't find a can opener (I found a few things that looked like can openers, but none of them would open the can...), so I found something sharp-ish and physically pounded an opening in the can. I'm sporting a nice gash on my finger from that. Then, I was substituting whipped cream from a can in place of CoolWhip, and the stuff wasn't gelling - it really kind of looked like soup. I ended up running out to another grocery store (my third-ish of the day) and buying more whipped cream. Final count, there were 3.5 cans of whipped cream in the dish (it was a double recipe, at least). But everyone really liked it, and I took home a dish licked clean, so all was well.
Thursday's cooking adventures also included long periods of time spent on various buses, since I never did find the original grocery store I was hunting. Part of the problem was my unwillingness to stay on the bus too long, since I'd already had a bus adventure on Wednesday night. You see, Wednesday, I went to English class with Sasha (son in host family) as a token exciting native English-speaker. More on that in a second. The class went on after my bit, so Sasha told me the numbers to get a bus going home. No problem, right? I've got the bus thing down. Except almost all of the buses home were marshutkas - essentially, a large yellow van that you have to tell when you want to get off. Not my cup of tea. So being my stubborn self, I decide to wait for the single bus that's supposed to run home. This resolve lasts until everyone else has left the stop and I'm freezing to death. Thus, I hop on a marshutka. However, I managed to screw up the numbers and climb aboard the wrong marshutka, which then proceeds to take me not home. I recognized where I was when I finally managed to get off, but it was a ways from home, so I went to wait at the bus stop for a real bus to take me back. The cold won again, as every bus that stopped was going elsewhere, so I gave in and walked. And thus it took me an hour to get home, when the direct walk is about 25 minutes. By the time I got home, my general reaction was, "I want America."
The English class was, um, interesting, if that's the phrase one uses to describe being simultaneously hit on by multiple teenage Russian boys. It was basically a question and answer session about me, the United States, and a foreigner's perception of Russia. Questions ranged from "Do you know any Russian? Say something!" (a. No, it's not like I'm studying it or anything, and b. way to put me on the spot. Thanks.) to "Do you know anything about Russian history?" (at which point I forgot everything I'd ever studied) to "What do you think of Russian-made goods? How do their quality and pricing compare to what you're used to?" (um, the chocolate's good?) on the normal end. Highlights of the weirder side include "Do you have a boyfriend? Do you want one?" (Creeper.) and "Describe your ideal man" (Not you). The overall vibe was pretty good, though, and the teacher did apologize that the boys were young and whatnot. Her English was kind of interesting; one of the other Americans teaches evening English classes and she's complained that the book encourages the use of crutch words to help speech sound more fluent, and that's exactly what the teacher did. Her favorite word was "well", but she'd insert it in places where it didn't make sense with the flow of the sentence. Definitely interesting.
So I'm really impressed if you're still with me after all that. Hopefully that's enough reading material for now, since I'm tired of typing. I come home in 4 weeks! Miss you all!
I hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving. Ours was probably the most traditional non-traditional set-up I've been to. The university provided turkeys (which actually turned out to be of decent size) and some other bits, the weirdest of which was definitely the random inclusion of tuna. We pot-lucked the rest - most of the boys couldn't be compelled to cook, so they brought drinks, Lindsey managed to prepare a tub (literally- think RubberMaid) of stuffing, there were some vegtables, Laura managed pumpkin pie, and I made PinkStuff.
The actual name is GreenStuff, since when the recipe is followed correctly, the end result is a pale green. However, as I think everyone cooking discovered, trying to find ingredients in a foreign country is kind of complicated. I couldn't find pistachio pudding, so I substituted strawberry and I ended up crushing whole canned strawberries instead of having crushed pineapple. I'm really glad my hozhaika wasn't home while I was cooking, since she probably would've been kind of alarmed. I couldn't find a can opener (I found a few things that looked like can openers, but none of them would open the can...), so I found something sharp-ish and physically pounded an opening in the can. I'm sporting a nice gash on my finger from that. Then, I was substituting whipped cream from a can in place of CoolWhip, and the stuff wasn't gelling - it really kind of looked like soup. I ended up running out to another grocery store (my third-ish of the day) and buying more whipped cream. Final count, there were 3.5 cans of whipped cream in the dish (it was a double recipe, at least). But everyone really liked it, and I took home a dish licked clean, so all was well.
Thursday's cooking adventures also included long periods of time spent on various buses, since I never did find the original grocery store I was hunting. Part of the problem was my unwillingness to stay on the bus too long, since I'd already had a bus adventure on Wednesday night. You see, Wednesday, I went to English class with Sasha (son in host family) as a token exciting native English-speaker. More on that in a second. The class went on after my bit, so Sasha told me the numbers to get a bus going home. No problem, right? I've got the bus thing down. Except almost all of the buses home were marshutkas - essentially, a large yellow van that you have to tell when you want to get off. Not my cup of tea. So being my stubborn self, I decide to wait for the single bus that's supposed to run home. This resolve lasts until everyone else has left the stop and I'm freezing to death. Thus, I hop on a marshutka. However, I managed to screw up the numbers and climb aboard the wrong marshutka, which then proceeds to take me not home. I recognized where I was when I finally managed to get off, but it was a ways from home, so I went to wait at the bus stop for a real bus to take me back. The cold won again, as every bus that stopped was going elsewhere, so I gave in and walked. And thus it took me an hour to get home, when the direct walk is about 25 minutes. By the time I got home, my general reaction was, "I want America."
The English class was, um, interesting, if that's the phrase one uses to describe being simultaneously hit on by multiple teenage Russian boys. It was basically a question and answer session about me, the United States, and a foreigner's perception of Russia. Questions ranged from "Do you know any Russian? Say something!" (a. No, it's not like I'm studying it or anything, and b. way to put me on the spot. Thanks.) to "Do you know anything about Russian history?" (at which point I forgot everything I'd ever studied) to "What do you think of Russian-made goods? How do their quality and pricing compare to what you're used to?" (um, the chocolate's good?) on the normal end. Highlights of the weirder side include "Do you have a boyfriend? Do you want one?" (Creeper.) and "Describe your ideal man" (Not you). The overall vibe was pretty good, though, and the teacher did apologize that the boys were young and whatnot. Her English was kind of interesting; one of the other Americans teaches evening English classes and she's complained that the book encourages the use of crutch words to help speech sound more fluent, and that's exactly what the teacher did. Her favorite word was "well", but she'd insert it in places where it didn't make sense with the flow of the sentence. Definitely interesting.
So I'm really impressed if you're still with me after all that. Hopefully that's enough reading material for now, since I'm tired of typing. I come home in 4 weeks! Miss you all!
Monday, November 12, 2007
I'm Bored, Therefore I Blog
So I really have spent the past few days bored out of my mind and somewhat starved for human contact. It's probably a bad sign when you start missing dorm life (and I have a room in Memorial in the spring, woohoo). I do in fact live with an older woman and a 19-year-old boy, but Sveta only speaks Russian, so that's mentally taxing and Sasha's a pain, partially because he is very much a teenage boy. At the same time, my loneliness is kind of good - I'm about to spend a week with 20 other college kids in fairly close quarters, so this way, I'll last longer before I start going crazy. And then I can come back and enjoy my quiet, non-peopleness.
The weather here has been doing a crazy sine-wave type thing, so basically we alternate between slush and ice, or sometimes we get both in the form of slushy ice.
I've spent most of the weekend just chilling and getting stuff together for the trip to the Caucauses - knitting, reading (very slowly, a novel in Russian, among other things), buying stuff. The usual.
I'm excited for our trip tomorrow - it should be interesting. For starters, the train stops at the station we get on at for a whopping 2 minutes. Someone should take video of 20 of us hurling ourselves onto the train and post in on YouTube. We had a little 'orientation' at school today.
VSU's Rules for Travelling in the Caucauses:
1. Don't go to Chechnya. (or Dagestan, or Ingushetia, or North Ossetia, I'm assuming.)
2. Don't go to Georgia. (The country - I don't think they have anything against the state.)
3. Don't fall off the mountain.
I think there was some other stuff in there, too, but the above was really the important bits.
I have the distinct feeling that I really intended to be more entertaining in this post, but the sun's gone down and it seems to have sapped all my energy. I guess I'm solar-powered - who knew?
PS - I haven't made any reference to Christmas in this post yet, so CHRISTMAS! Have a nice day.
The weather here has been doing a crazy sine-wave type thing, so basically we alternate between slush and ice, or sometimes we get both in the form of slushy ice.
I've spent most of the weekend just chilling and getting stuff together for the trip to the Caucauses - knitting, reading (very slowly, a novel in Russian, among other things), buying stuff. The usual.
I'm excited for our trip tomorrow - it should be interesting. For starters, the train stops at the station we get on at for a whopping 2 minutes. Someone should take video of 20 of us hurling ourselves onto the train and post in on YouTube. We had a little 'orientation' at school today.
VSU's Rules for Travelling in the Caucauses:
1. Don't go to Chechnya. (or Dagestan, or Ingushetia, or North Ossetia, I'm assuming.)
2. Don't go to Georgia. (The country - I don't think they have anything against the state.)
3. Don't fall off the mountain.
I think there was some other stuff in there, too, but the above was really the important bits.
I have the distinct feeling that I really intended to be more entertaining in this post, but the sun's gone down and it seems to have sapped all my energy. I guess I'm solar-powered - who knew?
PS - I haven't made any reference to Christmas in this post yet, so CHRISTMAS! Have a nice day.
Saturday, November 10, 2007
The Weather Outside is Frightful...
Yeah, I know - it's not even Thanksgiving yet, and I'm already doing Christmas songs. The weather here is seriously messing with my Texas-accustomed mind. We had our first proper snowfall yesterday (ie, snow that stuck). Actually, it's still sticking around, primarily in the form of pretty banks of white snow and sort of treacherous icy sidewalks. I've been wearing my boots in the snow - for some reason, it makes me laugh.
According to the Russians, winter doesn't really start until after the third snowfall. By my count, this is third, but by the Russian count, I think this is just the first or second. We were telling our teacher about all the snow earlier this week, and we got told that part of it didn't really count as "snow". This distinction confused (and continues to befuddle) all of the Texans - as far as we're concerned, white stuff falling from the sky that isn't sleet = snow. But apparently, there are finer distinctions.
Other exciting nonsense in my life:
I went to the ballet twice this week - Swan Lake on Wednesday, 1001 Arabian Nights on Friday. The same company produced both, which is quite impressive - that's a lot of dancing to remember. As with the Nutcracker, some "artistic liberties" were taken... Somehow, Swan Lake ended up with a happy ending. Swan Lake is a tragedy - everyone dies. That's what I explained in my intermission synopsis (somehow, I'm the one who always knows most of the story - it's odd). And then, at the end of the ballet, the prince and the swan went off together, all happy, completely oblivious to their interspecies dating issues. The orchestra was kind of lacking, too - the harpist was choppy (just commenting, not that I could do better, but no one pays me to try, either) and the oboe player was having a very rough night. He kept cracking the top notes of the main melody, so it was da-daaa-da-daa-da-HONK.
1001 Arabinan Nights was really, really short - just two acts, clocking a not-so-impressive hour and 20 minutes. The choreography was okay, but parts of it definitely felt like a musical, except no one was singing. On the whole, though, the costumes were amazing and the music was much better than Wednesday, so it was certainly worth the $6.
There's nothing much to report about school. We leave on Tuesday for a week-long excursion to the Caucauses, so don't expect to hear from me. (To the rest of you: I check blogs daily - you should write more often.) It's another 24-hour train ride each way, which is always fun. It's supposed to be warmer there, so that'll be exciting. And no, we're not doing anything dumb, like going to Chechnya.
Things I've learned today:
-Walk on white snow, not on gray snow. Gray snow generally means a million other little feet have already trod there, packing the snow down in yicky ice.
-Krasnaya Shapochka candy is really good.
-You can make pancakes ("americanskii blinni") from some form of cake mix. (My hozhaika's son made them this afternoon - one of their previous exchange students had taught him how).
-Cirok with cocoa is amazing. Cirok, for the uninitiated, is essentially a small bar of cream cheese coated in chocolate. The aforementioned variety is chocolate cream cheese coated in chocolate. It takes some getting used to, but now I'm hooked. And the chocolate stuff is way better than the kind I had with breakfast - plain cream cheese, coated in chocolate, with raisins in the middle. (Raisins?)
-Russians seem to value foreign language skills more highly than Americans. (Actually, pretty much everybody puts more emphasis on foreign languages than we do.) Anyway, my beloved bookstore that sells English-language literature (I bought Mill on the Floss today - it's on my reading list, and since I finished all 1000 pages of Don Quixote, I needed some new and educational.) also sells books in Spanish, German, French, Italian, and Japanese. I found the same version of Marcelino, Pan y Vino that I read junior year in high school. I may buy a Spanish title and something in German, so I can brush up on those skills, too.
Photos: I know some of you who read don't have access to my Facebook account, so links to all the albums posted are below.
St Petersburg:
http://baylor.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2138813&l=fcded&id=9214311
http://baylor.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2138988&l=3290c&id=9214311
http://baylor.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2139130&l=7eb3d&id=9214311
http://baylor.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2139245&l=dee96&id=9214311
Voronezh:
http://baylor.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2139363&l=b06f8&id=9214311
According to the Russians, winter doesn't really start until after the third snowfall. By my count, this is third, but by the Russian count, I think this is just the first or second. We were telling our teacher about all the snow earlier this week, and we got told that part of it didn't really count as "snow". This distinction confused (and continues to befuddle) all of the Texans - as far as we're concerned, white stuff falling from the sky that isn't sleet = snow. But apparently, there are finer distinctions.
Other exciting nonsense in my life:
I went to the ballet twice this week - Swan Lake on Wednesday, 1001 Arabian Nights on Friday. The same company produced both, which is quite impressive - that's a lot of dancing to remember. As with the Nutcracker, some "artistic liberties" were taken... Somehow, Swan Lake ended up with a happy ending. Swan Lake is a tragedy - everyone dies. That's what I explained in my intermission synopsis (somehow, I'm the one who always knows most of the story - it's odd). And then, at the end of the ballet, the prince and the swan went off together, all happy, completely oblivious to their interspecies dating issues. The orchestra was kind of lacking, too - the harpist was choppy (just commenting, not that I could do better, but no one pays me to try, either) and the oboe player was having a very rough night. He kept cracking the top notes of the main melody, so it was da-daaa-da-daa-da-HONK.
1001 Arabinan Nights was really, really short - just two acts, clocking a not-so-impressive hour and 20 minutes. The choreography was okay, but parts of it definitely felt like a musical, except no one was singing. On the whole, though, the costumes were amazing and the music was much better than Wednesday, so it was certainly worth the $6.
There's nothing much to report about school. We leave on Tuesday for a week-long excursion to the Caucauses, so don't expect to hear from me. (To the rest of you: I check blogs daily - you should write more often.) It's another 24-hour train ride each way, which is always fun. It's supposed to be warmer there, so that'll be exciting. And no, we're not doing anything dumb, like going to Chechnya.
Things I've learned today:
-Walk on white snow, not on gray snow. Gray snow generally means a million other little feet have already trod there, packing the snow down in yicky ice.
-Krasnaya Shapochka candy is really good.
-You can make pancakes ("americanskii blinni") from some form of cake mix. (My hozhaika's son made them this afternoon - one of their previous exchange students had taught him how).
-Cirok with cocoa is amazing. Cirok, for the uninitiated, is essentially a small bar of cream cheese coated in chocolate. The aforementioned variety is chocolate cream cheese coated in chocolate. It takes some getting used to, but now I'm hooked. And the chocolate stuff is way better than the kind I had with breakfast - plain cream cheese, coated in chocolate, with raisins in the middle. (Raisins?)
-Russians seem to value foreign language skills more highly than Americans. (Actually, pretty much everybody puts more emphasis on foreign languages than we do.) Anyway, my beloved bookstore that sells English-language literature (I bought Mill on the Floss today - it's on my reading list, and since I finished all 1000 pages of Don Quixote, I needed some new and educational.) also sells books in Spanish, German, French, Italian, and Japanese. I found the same version of Marcelino, Pan y Vino that I read junior year in high school. I may buy a Spanish title and something in German, so I can brush up on those skills, too.
Photos: I know some of you who read don't have access to my Facebook account, so links to all the albums posted are below.
St Petersburg:
http://baylor.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2138813&l=fcded&id=9214311
http://baylor.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2138988&l=3290c&id=9214311
http://baylor.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2139130&l=7eb3d&id=9214311
http://baylor.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2139245&l=dee96&id=9214311
Voronezh:
http://baylor.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2139363&l=b06f8&id=9214311
Monday, November 5, 2007
It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas...
So, first of all, yay for Russian weather. In the past 48 hours, it's snowed twice and hailed at least once. Nothing's really sticking yet (actually, the hail accumulate pretty nicely for a bit), but I'm feeling hopeful. I've trotted out my pretty white winter coat and am just generally enjoying the gloriousness that is the weather.
And now for a little game:
The Rules:
1. I have to post these rules before I give you the facts.
2. Each player starts with eight random facts/habits about themselves.
3. People who are tagged need to write a post on their own blog (about their eight things) and post these rules. (if you don’t have a blog, email me)
4. At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.
5. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read their blog. Here goes...
1. I really enjoy the idea and practice of giving people food/sharing meals and such, but I'm really not much of a cook.
2. I can read any sort of fluffy novel in record time, but give me something of similar length that I'm supposed to read for school, and it'll take forever.
3. I get things all worked out in my head, and then I forget them. Such as the rest of my eight facts...let's see what I can come up with...
4. I really love to make plans for the future, whether or not they're likely to come true - not so much in an "if I were to win the lottery" sense; more of an if "A happens, then maybe B or C". I think I'll call it contingency planning - sounds better that way.
5. I tend to overuse dashes and semicolons in my writing (see above). I just like putting lots of information into what is technically one sentence.
6. I'm weird about not using things so they'll stay new, which kind of defeats the whole purpose of having things. As an example, I definitely have two or three pairs of new, unworn knee socks from Target that are still stashed in my drawer because I don't want them to get all mucked up (and I don't want them to line-dry and get stiff, after I wear them).
7. For someone who worries so much about grades, I don't know my current GPA (need to go look that up, actually...)
8. No matter how much time I have for the Internet, it never seems to be quite enough. I can't decide if this is because the Internet is a black hole of time-wasting, or if it's just because there's that much interesting information out there. I'm currently reading about student loans - I have no student loans - so maybe the black hole theory has some merit...
Tagging: Jamie M, Chelsea, Sarah A, Sarah A again, Ashley again because she hasn't done it yet, Lulu, Shandi, and anyone else interested. If you don't have a blog, I'd say a facebook note counts. Hop to!
I think there was going to be more to this entry but the computer is slow and the day moves onward. Later days!
And now for a little game:
The Rules:
1. I have to post these rules before I give you the facts.
2. Each player starts with eight random facts/habits about themselves.
3. People who are tagged need to write a post on their own blog (about their eight things) and post these rules. (if you don’t have a blog, email me)
4. At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.
5. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read their blog. Here goes...
1. I really enjoy the idea and practice of giving people food/sharing meals and such, but I'm really not much of a cook.
2. I can read any sort of fluffy novel in record time, but give me something of similar length that I'm supposed to read for school, and it'll take forever.
3. I get things all worked out in my head, and then I forget them. Such as the rest of my eight facts...let's see what I can come up with...
4. I really love to make plans for the future, whether or not they're likely to come true - not so much in an "if I were to win the lottery" sense; more of an if "A happens, then maybe B or C". I think I'll call it contingency planning - sounds better that way.
5. I tend to overuse dashes and semicolons in my writing (see above). I just like putting lots of information into what is technically one sentence.
6. I'm weird about not using things so they'll stay new, which kind of defeats the whole purpose of having things. As an example, I definitely have two or three pairs of new, unworn knee socks from Target that are still stashed in my drawer because I don't want them to get all mucked up (and I don't want them to line-dry and get stiff, after I wear them).
7. For someone who worries so much about grades, I don't know my current GPA (need to go look that up, actually...)
8. No matter how much time I have for the Internet, it never seems to be quite enough. I can't decide if this is because the Internet is a black hole of time-wasting, or if it's just because there's that much interesting information out there. I'm currently reading about student loans - I have no student loans - so maybe the black hole theory has some merit...
Tagging: Jamie M, Chelsea, Sarah A, Sarah A again, Ashley again because she hasn't done it yet, Lulu, Shandi, and anyone else interested. If you don't have a blog, I'd say a facebook note counts. Hop to!
I think there was going to be more to this entry but the computer is slow and the day moves onward. Later days!
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