<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1500932084299538958</id><updated>2011-04-21T18:42:21.344-07:00</updated><category term='weather'/><category term='pictures'/><category term='technology'/><category term='gym'/><category term='shopping'/><category term='Erica'/><category term='language barrier'/><category term='excursion'/><category term='game'/><category term='packing'/><category term='stupidity'/><category term='Sousa'/><category term='parents'/><category term='homework'/><category term='travel'/><category term='tests'/><category term='church'/><category term='holidays'/><category term='food'/><category term='classes'/><category term='cowboy boots'/><category term='Russia'/><category term='snow'/><category term='transportation'/><category term='friends'/><title type='text'>Do Russians Play Sousa?</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18365432566364088630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>41</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1500932084299538958.post-232616393618497441</id><published>2008-07-24T00:00:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T00:14:20.445-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='homework'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='travel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tests'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stupidity'/><title type='text'>It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year...Not!</title><content type='html'>Hello, dear lovely readers (all two of you...)!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, because summer school was determined to be insufficient torture, we are now undergoing exams. Six of them. Today. I've already sat three, and I *think* one more is coming before lunch (we're really not well-informed about what's going on - you know which exam is next when they hand you the paper). The reading wasn't bad, the listening was fine, and I totally bombed the phonetics. I am okay with this, as I am not a linguist, I have no desire to become a linguist, and I can still pronounce the words, even if I can't sit down, look at a list, and tell you which consonants are hard in which configurations. Oh, and I'm not sure how I was supposed to acquire some of this information in a class that primarily consisted of repeating random syllables and asking people for directions...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After they've turned our brains to mush, there's going to be a big party thing, where we will be expected to speak Russian and receive pretty pieces of paper. Maria and I will also be performing a Russian folk dance (which we may forget) while Jennifer sings. All three of us will be dressed in Russian national costumes (and they're going to have heart failure, because Maria and I typically dance barefoot, and this is not. okay. in Russia...).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also have class and a vocabulary test tomorrow. After finals. Making sense is not the Astrakhan State University way, if you haven't noticed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weekend will be spent at a "tourist base" out on the banks of the river. Highlights are sure to include the trip out to see the lotus fields (looks cool) and avoiding drunk students (not so cool). Then it's packing and flying on Tuesday (woohoo five hours in the Moscow airport - the only part of Moscow I've ever seen), St Petersburg Wednesday and Thursday (more tests and excursions - don't these people ever get tired of tests?) and then flying home on Friday (Friday, Mother, Friday!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This may be my last blog post from the Motherland, as both internet time and time in the country are fleeting. I'm planning a few posts of stuff I never got around to once I'm back in the States (Things my textbook taught me, How to cook macaroni in Russia, etc), but no promises, especially since I'm apparently applying for a Marshall (I enjoy rejection). Stay cool!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1500932084299538958-232616393618497441?l=dorussians.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/feeds/232616393618497441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1500932084299538958&amp;postID=232616393618497441' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/232616393618497441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/232616393618497441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/2008/07/its-most-wonderful-time-of-yearnot.html' title='It&apos;s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year...Not!'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18365432566364088630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1500932084299538958.post-5030884794580495943</id><published>2008-07-17T05:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-17T05:42:32.614-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='excursion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='classes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weather'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Russia'/><title type='text'>В Принсипе</title><content type='html'>So remember how I said I'd write on say, Wednesday? (Note that it is now Friday.) Today's lesson in Russia: the concept of "in principle". In principle, Russia has everything. In principle, we had an hour of internet time on Tuesday. This is how things ACTUALLY worked out:&lt;br /&gt;EVIL HEAD TEACHER: Everyone going on the mosque trip needs to be downstairs in 10 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;STUDENTS: But the schedule says it doesn't start for another hour!&lt;br /&gt;EHT: That's nice. Ten minutes.&lt;br /&gt;STUDENTS: But, but....&lt;br /&gt;EHT: *stony silence*&lt;br /&gt;Please note, in principle doesn't really go both ways. I may be able to use it in order to turn my diary in on Monday instead of Friday (it was due on Friday in principle), but gosh darnit, they're still going to have get it, even if they have to pry it from my cold, dead hands. (This is, in fact, more related to such things as theoretical academic progress, but I'm a touch bitter that I just got the darn thing back today and it's due again tomorrow...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only one week left of classes! Finals are on Thursday. Of course, said finals may or may not be actually related to what we've done to date, but what can  you do? It'll be nice that come up to a period of final exams that I'm not stressing about, since as far as I'm concerned, things are as they are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As alluded to earlier, we went to a mosque on Tuesday. It was pretty cool - we got to talk to the imam and the guy who runs the school at the mosque. The professor talked the same we do - English and Russian run together (except he threw in Arabic from time to time, just to be special). Nothing of great import was said, though we did learn where to find halal meat in Astrakhan, should you ever need this vital information.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the mosque, we had tea with a Tatar (nationality in Russia) family, which I enjoyed. Our director summed it up as "Classic Russia - lots of little babyshkas running around, tossing meat pastries down your throat". The highlight was definitely the honey cake, which several people announced that they would do just about anything for. The one downside was the heat - we had quite a few people crammed into a rather small room, and since we were eating with all the important people, all of the girls had to stay veiled. The guys got hot, the girls with scarves simply tied over their hair got hotter, and since I was wearing my scarf hijab-style (it's what I'm used to, my shirt was kind of open, and my scarf's too big to tie any other way), I melted. When the important people left, the babyshkas told us we could unveil, the comment, "Poor dear, you must be so hot," was definitely made to me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For everyone who thinks Russia is all snow and balalaikas, I hereby invite you to Astrakhan in the summer. It's hot. And there's no A/C most of the time, since Russians are convinced that A/C causes illness. How hot is hot? It's supposed to be up to 40C today - that's 104F, and there's been rumors that it may get as high as 50F before we leave (that would be 122F). So enjoy your nice air conditioning for me, okay?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's about it for the moment - I'll be home in half a month! Stay cool!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1500932084299538958-5030884794580495943?l=dorussians.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/feeds/5030884794580495943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1500932084299538958&amp;postID=5030884794580495943' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/5030884794580495943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/5030884794580495943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/2008/07/blog-post.html' title='В Принсипе'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18365432566364088630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1500932084299538958.post-2875971657286400440</id><published>2008-07-14T06:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-14T06:41:02.325-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='excursion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='language barrier'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tests'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Russia'/><title type='text'>Me, Crazy? Never!</title><content type='html'>So, long time, no post. You can blame the folks who write our schedule for that - there was absolutely no internet time last week (trust me, this is much more tragic than you think). You can also thank them for the fact that I'm writing right now, instead of learning my Russian folk dance. You see, dance club was supposed to start at 4, but the meeting we had with the rector (head of the university - he's the President Lilley of ASU), was also supposed to run until 4.30. Thus, when we arrived at clubs at 4.30, the girls who teach had decided no one was coming and left. I felt terrible, but the lady in charge of stuff like that theoretically explained what happened. Argh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Russia remains Russia. School is driving me more than a little crazy. The grades on my midterm sheet say I have learned diddly squat thus far, which I have simply decided is more a reflection of the exams than me (otherwise, unbearable depression would probably result). I sincerely miss the concept of the rubric, which might at least give some indication of *why* grades are what they are. This, of course, is too much to ask. I'm also still trying to figure out how, exactly, I have a grade for a reading midterm no one took... Oh, Russia!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, we had an interesting excursion this weekend. We rode 4+ hours each way on a bus in order to see the largest Buddhist temple in Europe, which is somewhat randomly located in the middle of Russia. Kalmykia is Russia's only Buddhist republic, but they seem to be doing pretty well at it. The temple was gigantonormous and Buddha himself was big, too - 2 stories of gold Buddha! He also had a decent-sized army of tiny golden minion-Buddhas. It was interesting to see, but on some level heart breaking - there were all these food offerings left to this huge statue, made by nothing but human hands...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lecture today (if I haven't mentioned it before, lecture is a special level of hell reserved for us after lunch...) was supposed to be over tolerance. No one, Russian or American, read the article (I read enough to declare it funny and then watched West Wing* instead), and thus it was a lot of "Well, I think..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This then was directed to &lt;em&gt;immigration&lt;/em&gt;. Mind you, we didn't redirect it to immigration - the head teacher rather naively decided that we should talk about it. Things kind of deteriorated from there, since controversial topic (which I really wouldn't want to discuss in a large-group setting in &lt;em&gt;English&lt;/em&gt;) + relatively simple language skills = um, yeah. It was interesting, if you wanna call it that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was forced to attempt to explain the influence of the job situation in France on racial tensions, and then the professors tried to ask further questions regarding my opinion on some policy of the French government on something (from what I understood, they were having difficulty with the whole concept of open borders for work under the EU - can't really help you there if you don't get it...). I just gave up and said that anything the French government said about jobs was a fairy tale - I'm not terribly well-versed in French policy in &lt;em&gt;English &lt;/em&gt;folks! I was just trying to deal with the fact that there was more to the situation than people randomly going crazy and burning cars, which seems to be the Russian take. The joke is that we're going to talk about the war in Iraq next week, so we can just line up on opposite sides of the room and practice shouting insults at each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The internet is being problematic at the moment, so that'll have to be all. We're going to see mosques tomorrow, but there should be internet time the day after (emphasis on the *should*) or something like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Oh Mother Dearest! Season 3 of the West Wing would be an awesome Welcome Home present... *looks innocent*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1500932084299538958-2875971657286400440?l=dorussians.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/feeds/2875971657286400440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1500932084299538958&amp;postID=2875971657286400440' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/2875971657286400440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/2875971657286400440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/2008/07/so-long-time-no-post.html' title='Me, Crazy? Never!'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18365432566364088630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1500932084299538958.post-9153654424602425375</id><published>2008-07-04T04:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-04T04:43:10.489-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='holidays'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Russia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>More Russian Bits and Pieces</title><content type='html'>Greetings from the lowest geographical point in Europe! This is not an exaggeration - Astrakhan is literally the lowest point on the continent. It used to be &lt;em&gt;part &lt;/em&gt;of the Caspian Sea, as opposed to being located near the Caspian Sea. This would explain the near-routine flooding...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's the Fourth (duh), and thus we managed to get the second half of the day off (this was not the original plan, but apparently we complain pretty well). Of course, there was a writing exam (in which I may have permanently harmed the Russian language) and a vocabulary quiz this morning, but we'll take what free time we can get. There's supposed to be a get-together tonight, but it doesn't start until 8, which is only an hour before the marshytka system starts getting sketchy, and I don't know if I want to be left at its mercy... The original plan was to hit the beach (the Volga is apparently pretty decent, as large bodies of water go), so of course, the heavens opened up about an hour before we were due to leave, and now there's a beach of sorts on the streets...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not much exciting this week, despite the high volume of blog posting. There may be nothing at all next week, since independent work/office hours were completely omitted from the week's schedule... (This was not anticipated, and I got the impression that the American side of the house had not approved the change, so the schedule may be revised...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other Experiences that make Russia what it is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Bizarre things I've eaten: &lt;/strong&gt;Hands down, the winner is last week's pizza - ham and bread and butter pickles (the little sweet ones). I believe this officially establishes that the Russians do not properly understand the concept of "pizza" - it's either covered in dill or sporting pickles :-( I bought and ate a German brand of frozen pizza this week - I carefully checked, and the ingredients were all normal, but the pizza just didn't taste right, and there was pretty much no cheese to speak of. Apparently, frozen pizzas are also a strictly American thing (which is a shame - frozen pizza is a beautiful thing).&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Bathrooms: &lt;/strong&gt;Oh, Russian bathrooms, where shall I begin? First of all, as is common in Europe, never assume that the bathroom is free. Even port-a-potties cost about 10 rubles. Second, one must always carry toilet paper in one's purse - every girl has a travel pack of tissues for this express purpose. Of course, you generally can't flush stuff, either. In addition, one can expect squattie potties (aren't you loving the vocab here?) with half doors - think Old West saloon. Bathroom visits are always adventures... The one we have here at school has apparently been declared foreigners-only, as we have a key and must lock and unlock the door upon entering/leaving. Ever tried explaining to someone that &lt;em&gt;you &lt;/em&gt;are permitted to use this bathroom, but &lt;em&gt;they &lt;/em&gt;are not? Yeah, it's bunches of fun...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;There's certainly more (and plenty of it's funny - the more you can laugh, the better things are), but I'm tired of writing, so have a wonderful holiday!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1500932084299538958-9153654424602425375?l=dorussians.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/feeds/9153654424602425375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1500932084299538958&amp;postID=9153654424602425375' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/9153654424602425375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/9153654424602425375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/2008/07/more-russian-bits-and-pieces.html' title='More Russian Bits and Pieces'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18365432566364088630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1500932084299538958.post-931607532334719125</id><published>2008-07-01T04:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-01T05:05:15.900-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='language barrier'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sousa'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Russia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>Pieces of the Russian Life</title><content type='html'>First and foremost, we have an answer! Russians, do, in fact, play Sousa! "Stars and Stripes Forever," no less! There are not words for my reaction at the philharmonic yesterday when the chamber orchestra's pianist launched into "Stars and Stripes" for his first encore. I'm &lt;em&gt;still &lt;/em&gt;excited about this :-) (I'm also still in shock that the pianist played no fewer than four encores, but that's a different subject...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, Russia is still Russian, as I am constantly reminded. How exactly is it "Russian", you ask?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;The &lt;em&gt;Sex and the City &lt;/em&gt;movie contains a scene in which a character eats yogurt for breakfast from a bowl. The girls behind us began querying one another as to what that substance might be: ice cream? Smetana (Russian sour cream)?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Russians, as a general rule, hate making change. This is one of those things that I continue to struggle to understand - ATMs generally dispense thousand-ruble notes (a little less than $40), five hundreds, if you're lucky, and yet I've never spent more than hundred fifty rubles at the grocery store ($6-ish). Change is a fact of life! And yet, handing over a bill is almost guaranteed to merit a grumpy look and a request for something smaller. (I admit it - I lie to shop girls when I need to break a big bill...)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;On grumpy looks, smiling in public places is not okay, unless you're with friends and clearly have something to smile about. Americans in good moods are generally viewed as being head cases - we're far to smiley. On the flights over, it was almost surreal - in all of the Luftansa literature, everytime a flight attendent appeared, she (or he) sported a Disney-big smile. The Luftansa flight attendents? Very "serious" types...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Sexism, is on some levels, at least, still alive and well. Want to play soccer in gym? You better be male (my host father had trouble with the concept of all-girl soccer teams when I told him I'd played growing up. "But what do they &lt;em&gt;wear&lt;/em&gt;?"). When magazines get handed out in lecture, the girls are supposed to take the "women's interest" glossies over the news. Climb over a desk? "Girls don't do that in Russia!" I can only imagine what they would've said had they seen Laura and I climbing on a &lt;em&gt;tank &lt;/em&gt;last week... &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I'm also a terrible girl because I don't have any heels here, and would never consider wearing them if I did. Watching the poor Russian girls struggle up the side of a hill last week was persuasion plenty. I'll stick to my off-roadable shoes, thankyouverymuch. My family doesn't make much of a fuss about it, but at least one of the other girls is being made to wear a dress and heels every day. Not fun.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;All of the above was not to give a negative impression of Russia, of course. It's just terribly difficult to express all the tiny things that make up this foreign experience. We're more Russian-ized on this program, I feel, and sometimes it makes life that much harder. (And they don't have tortilla chips here - how on Earth do people live without tortilla chips?!? We made the mistake of discussing American food (in Russian) this weekend, and now I'm craving chips and queso... Of course, I totally miss blinni when I'm in the States, so things balance out...)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Much love to you all!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1500932084299538958-931607532334719125?l=dorussians.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/feeds/931607532334719125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1500932084299538958&amp;postID=931607532334719125' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/931607532334719125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/931607532334719125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/2008/07/pieces-of-russian-life.html' title='Pieces of the Russian Life'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18365432566364088630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1500932084299538958.post-663755209471404657</id><published>2008-06-30T05:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-30T05:42:57.756-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='excursion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Russia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='transportation'/><title type='text'>Keep on Movin' Down the Road</title><content type='html'>So it's been forever (aka a week) since my last entry. I keep meaning to write more often, but last week's schedule kind of went out the window, since we had a visit from the head director. This also entailed much scolding in the days immediately prior, since we weren't supposed to speak English around said director. Said director *also* scolded us for being the city that doesn't speak Russian. Those of us interested in speaking Russian at school (wow, that sounds pompous) are trying to find ways to make it work, but some days you just can't. I dunno - things have been better of late, so perhaps the changes will stick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still have yet to determine whether or not Russians perform Sousa, but they certainly do play jazz. I went to a jazz concert at the philharmonic on Thursday night - "A Portrait of Duke Ellington", and it was quite good. The instrumentalists were excellent, especially the trumpet soloist. There were three female singers - I thought the first two did a beautiful job, especially with regard to what must be the considerable difficulty of singing English language jazz without accent and with proper diction and all that - I really enjoyed their songs. The third singer, who was by far the favorite of the evening, had a voice like, in my oh so humble opinion, an angry cat. She certainly proved that singing scat is an American art... The philharmonic's sound engineers apparently fell asleep at the mixing board, though - the balance veered between standard jazz-loud and downright painful :-(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday's excursion was "interesting", if you want to call it that. It consisted of hiking up two hills to gaze at what was essentially central Texas in March, and two tiny museums that were somehow related to the production of fish products in Astrakhan. The most interesting part was definitely the fact that both museums had an entire room devoted to the USSR and collectivization/Lenin/propoganda/the color red. It makes sense, but the joke was that either Lenin loved fish or fish loved Lenin... I'm now very interested in the role of women in the WWII in Russia, as the shrines to the honored veterans of the Great Patriotic War frequently include photos of highly decorated women - I've never heard much on the topic, and thus have no idea if they were factory workers, some sort of equivalent of WAVS/WACS, or something else entirely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday was a lovely free day - two of the other Americans, Shelley and Laura, and I went to the movies at a local mall. As usual, we grabbed the wrong marshytka - it's our hobby - but it went to a familiar stop and we were together, so no problems. We saw "Sex in the Big City", as the "Sex and the City" movie is called in Russia. It ended up being really bizarre - the movie is so very American, so walking back out into a Russian mall after watching it (in Russian, of course) was a little confusing - I had to ponder which continent I was on for a moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all I can come up with for now, but all of y'all should take care - I can't wait to be home and see all of you!&lt;br /&gt;PS - Mom, could you e-mail me "Stars and Stripes Forever" from the &lt;em&gt;I Love A Parade &lt;/em&gt;CD in time for the Fourth? It seems appropriate...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1500932084299538958-663755209471404657?l=dorussians.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/feeds/663755209471404657/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1500932084299538958&amp;postID=663755209471404657' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/663755209471404657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/663755209471404657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/2008/06/keep-on-movin-down-road.html' title='Keep on Movin&apos; Down the Road'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18365432566364088630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1500932084299538958.post-1653745858750170570</id><published>2008-06-23T03:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T04:21:18.632-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='excursion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='travel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stupidity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='transportation'/><title type='text'>Not What I'm Supposed to Be Doing...</title><content type='html'>So, I'm supposed to be listening to either a) my phonetics disc or b) tomorrow's lecture (I'm not sure what's going on there...). Instead, I'm reading blogs and posting, so I can go home early instead of waiting for normal internet time. This isn't even what's on the schedule for this block, but they like to rearrange things for fun...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quite a bit has happened since my last post: flood, theft, chastening, a trip, illness, and traffic violations (plural). And thus, Davai!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Flood: &lt;/strong&gt;The flood waters arrived Thursday afternoon as we were riding home from an excursion to the book making factory/printing press (absolutely fascinating. Terribly inefficient, but absolutely fascinating.) Initially, pretty much everyone was glad to see the rain, because it would bring the temperature down. Problems started arising when it started raining hard and didn't stop. All the good Texans in the group figured that it'd pour for a bit and then stop, so we attempted to wait it out by sitting in the foreign exchange office and drinking tea. No such luck - we waited a good bit, and then realized that the rain definitely wasn't letting up. Thus, we went ahead and went to the stop to wait on marshytkas. I caught one pretty quickly, and proceeded to ride in a tiny van with 20 other people while our driver drove part of the way on the sidewalk in order, to a) avoid the flood waters and b) move around the mounds of non-moving traffic. I thought the woman sitting across from me was going to have either a heart attack or salvation experience every time we tilted dangerously while lurching on and off of curbs... My normal commute tripled in length (it took about an hour and a half), but I'm just grateful that our marshytka never joined the legions of stalled vehicles with flooded engines that were all over the roadways. Water was knee-deep in several places - a few students in our program were in cars that lost complete contact with the ground and floated for a while. Fun times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Theft: &lt;/strong&gt;Not me, but poor Ross had his wallet stolen from our super-full marshytka on stipend day, no less. Boo Russian thieves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chastening: &lt;/strong&gt;While we were being scolded for our decidedly lacidasical attitude towards the Russian-only pledge, I brilliantly piped up with the comment that it's hard to get others to do it, as no one wants to be the "Russian Police". Apparently, we are supposed to be the Russian Police (rysskie militsia) in the name of "community policing". I'm trying harder, but I'm pretty sure community policing requires some level of commitment from the &lt;em&gt;whole&lt;/em&gt; community. *le sigh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Trip: &lt;/strong&gt;Volgograd/Stalingrad again - my favorite (honestly. Hard as it is to believe, I do occaisionally ditch the sarcasm). I had a bigger memory card in my camera and I bought a picture pass in the museum, so lots of pictures to come. We had a lecture over the Great Patriotic War (essentially, the war of Russia against Germany - occured simultaneously with WWII, but is generally regarded as a semi-separate entity. I think.) prior to the trip and I took two pages of notes in Russian - this is apparently impressive. Train was normal and all that jazz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Illness: &lt;/strong&gt;The only downside of the Volgograd trip - the restaurant that we've now eaten at three times apparently didn't do so well Saturday night, and early Sunday morning found me befriending the trash can at the end of the train car. (TMI, I know, but if you've ever been sick by yourself in a foreign country, you know it stinks...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Traffic Violations: &lt;/strong&gt;In the last week, my marshytka has been pulled over by the militsia (police) twice. This morning, it was my fault. I was riding standing, which may or may not be technically illegal - it's certainly common practice, but who knows? Anyway, I was standing when we got pulled over. I thought it was a stop, so I was looking for who was getting off (generally, the standers have to pile out so that people can exit), when everyone started telling me to get to the back of the marshytka. I complied and squatted with the other guy who'd been standing. What I didn't understand was that I was supposed to be *hiding* from the militsia - I thought everything'd be okay as long as I was sitting-level. So of course the militsioner saw me and detained our driver for almost an hour, while I sat on the bus and everyone glared at me. When everything got sorted out, the driver was clearly pretty ticked, so I got off a few stops early, rather than risk being alone with him. I felt/still feel absolutely terrible - I'm sure he had to pay a fine, and he lost work while we were waiting, but I almost always ride part way standing up - half the time, it's the only way to get a marshytka in the morning from my stop. I'd figured it was okay, since two people got off at my stop (hence, two places in theory), and there was already another guy squatting in the floor. I'm kind of scared to ride the marshytka again (not like I have a choice), and I'm going to try and avoid that particular one for a while, but I don't know... At least half my class rode standing today, the three of us who rode back from the theater all stood partway... I hate subjective laws!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that's all of our excitement. Well, at least, it's excitement for me - it might be really boring to read. So if you don't get throught it all, don't worry - I still love you!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1500932084299538958-1653745858750170570?l=dorussians.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/feeds/1653745858750170570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1500932084299538958&amp;postID=1653745858750170570' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/1653745858750170570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/1653745858750170570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/2008/06/not-what-im-supposed-to-be-doing.html' title='Not What I&apos;m Supposed to Be Doing...'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18365432566364088630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1500932084299538958.post-3221130949952765504</id><published>2008-06-17T00:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-17T05:25:53.815-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='travel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='language barrier'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='transportation'/><title type='text'>A Continuation (of sorts)</title><content type='html'>So, our internet is le sketchy here, and thus, I can't promise updates as frequently as I would like :-(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In terms of universities, Astrakhan completely trumps Voronezh. In terms of cities, Voronezh (despite being a large hunk of concrete) trumps Astrakhan major league. In Astrakhan, one cannot walk from point A to point B - one must always ride the marshytka. There are a smattering of buses, but for the most part, marshytkas rule the roads.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A &lt;strong&gt;marshytka&lt;/strong&gt;, for those of you who have missed out on this lovely form of transport, is essentially a 16-passenger van, usually yellow, with a different arrangement of seats - a taxi-van, if you will. They run along set routes, but you have to signal from the side of the road in order to catch one, and you have to tell it where to stop when you want to get off. Amusing signs spotted in marshytkas include "This vehicle does not stop for "here" and "there"". Riding on a marshytka is, as a general rule, a near-death experience. (That said, marshytka drivers tend to be better than the vast majority of Russian drivers.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shelley (another girl in the program) and I live a few stops apart, so we always ride back from school and events together (our families think this is great). We also have an extraordinary ability to get on the &lt;em&gt;right &lt;/em&gt;marshytka going in the &lt;em&gt;wrong &lt;/em&gt;direction. The first time this happened, the driver drove down a random side street, stopped, and announced "The end" and kicked us off. We had to walk back to the university stop and try again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, we got out of a play kind of late. Not that big of a problem, right? Well, we were under the impression that marshytkas stop running completely at about fifteen minutes after we got out (they just seriously decrease in number), so we were panicing about getting home. We knew that we needed Marshytka No. 18 to get home, but we weren't sure which way, so we just hopped the first one that happened by. Turns out, not the right one. We, of course, did not discover this until we got to the far side of the city. Oops. The driver was really nice/had mercy and took us to a big stop, then walked us to the correct marshytka, put us on it, told the driver our stop, and that we spoke really poor Russian. We finally made it home about an hour after we started trying. Such is life. Considering how protective the host families here are, it's a wonder they let us go anywhere at all by ourselves...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The above story contains another thing I've noticed of late - Russians seem to really enjoy informing me of how poorly they think I speak their language. We saw "Kung Fu Panda" in Russian last week (as it turns out, everybody grunts in the same language), and another girl and I got to talking with a couple of Russian girls while we waited. Halfway through the conversation, one of the Russians turned to me and announced that the other young lady spoke Russian so much better because my accent was bad. I went home kind of sad, but my family reassured me that everyone in Russia has some form of accent, and everyone else feels the need to comment on it. Then, I definitely communicated with the driver last night, and I thought he understood us okay, but maybe not. Maybe I'm crazy for continuing to chase this language, but I guess crazy is just what I'll stay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're headed to Volgograd this Saturday - my favorite! I'm so excited, especially since the Battle of Stalingrad is one of the few things I actually know something about. I think I missed the class where they teach you everything there is to know about Russian literature and art, but you know, if anyone ever wants to read the ranks on the requisite WWII monument in front of the school, I'm there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully this sufficient reading material for all of y'all who are hanging out, bored on summer vacation. If you need any more reading, I've got a reading list I could use some help with...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1500932084299538958-3221130949952765504?l=dorussians.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/feeds/3221130949952765504/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1500932084299538958&amp;postID=3221130949952765504' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/3221130949952765504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/3221130949952765504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/2008/06/continuation-of-sorts.html' title='A Continuation (of sorts)'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18365432566364088630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1500932084299538958.post-5601233317776904977</id><published>2008-06-10T05:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-10T05:47:42.435-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Series of Events, Some of Them Unfortunate</title><content type='html'>So, I'm not dead. Yay! There have been a couple of moments along the way where I thought I was about to become dead, but so far all's well. To date:&lt;br /&gt;DC - I am officially in love. Sign me up to live there, eh? They kept us in meetings all day, so we didn't get to see much of the city, but we did manage some sight seeing after we got out - the monuments are pretty cool after dark.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Flights - fly SwissAir - don't fly Lufthansa. We were on a jam-packed 747 that hasn't been retrofitted with those fun little monitors in the seat backs - not a fun way to spend 8 hours. The controls in my row's seats didn't work until we started our descent into Frankfurt, so we couldn't even operate the lights. :-( And they didn't give us chocolate - like I said, fly SwissAir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Petersburg - pretty cool, as always. I didn't sight see as much this time - we just walked around, which was plenty fun. The hotel hosted some big event for a company or something our last day there, so we ate dinner on the second floor and watched a bunch of drunk Russians dance - it was interesting, possibly educational.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Flights again - Oh, Aeroflot. My group got together at 3.30 the morning of our departure, only to discover that the bus didn't have sufficient space for our luggage - I spent the whole trip to the airport worrying that my suitcase was going to fall out of the overstuffed compartment. As it turned out, that would be the least of our worries...First flight, fine. Second flight, a little sketchier (2x2 with luggage compartments like a bus). The connection between flights was quick - they had to hold the bus to the airplane for our group (not that they wanted too...) Upon arriving in Volgograd, we discovered that our luggage hadn't made the connection with us. We had 23 people, 0 suitcases and a 6-hour bus ride to look forward to. Hurrah! (The suitcases came the next evening...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Astrakhan - We were supposed to get in at 6 PM. We actually arrived at 10 PM, by which time we were all bone-tired, frustrated, and felt pretty gross. Thus, they sat us down to a traditional Russian dinner and let our prospective families watch us eat. Needless to say, not much was consumed... The folks at the university were very kind, and had assembled bags with toothbrushes and a change of clothes. My host family made me wear mine - an XL university shirt and an XL pair of drawstring capris. Super fashionable, no?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now my time is up, so I'll leave y'all hanging. Soon: the rest of the story :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1500932084299538958-5601233317776904977?l=dorussians.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/feeds/5601233317776904977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1500932084299538958&amp;postID=5601233317776904977' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/5601233317776904977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/5601233317776904977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/2008/06/series-of-events-some-of-them.html' title='A Series of Events, Some of Them Unfortunate'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18365432566364088630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1500932084299538958.post-1023317518301711306</id><published>2008-05-31T13:51:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-31T14:03:10.229-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='travel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='packing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Russia'/><title type='text'>Here We Go Again</title><content type='html'>Start music: &lt;em&gt;Dream On (Live)&lt;/em&gt;, Aerosmith&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bags are packed, the boarding pass is printed, and my mom's freaking out: time to go to Russia again. It's bizarre to think that at this time one year ago, I'd never been on a plane by myself or left the country. How things do change! And yet they stay the same: my single bag is overweight (I've resigned myself to being incapable of long-term international travel within weight restrictions), I'm still worrying that there's something forgotten, the dog is still terribly confused...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First stop this time is Washington, DC, which is exciting since I've never been there before. We're not really getting time to sightsee, which is sad. Instead, we're spending all day in the ballroom, listening to presentations. I'll strive to be attentive, but don't expect much of a report ;-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a few days in DC, we'll fly to St Petersburg, which is awesome - I love the city and the weather should be much nicer this time around (I was last there in October). Rumor is we'll have free time there, so yay for poking around some more in the not-freeze-your-face-off weather. Ooh, and yay for blinni at Teremok - chocolate and banana, mmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From Petersburg my group hops first to Moscow and then to Volgograd (aka Stalingrad, my favorite Russian city). We then bus from Volgograd to Astrakhan, as the Astrakhan airport is currently undergoing repairs. We're planning to fly out of Astrakhan at the end of July, though. Having seen the massive sidewalk reconstruction undertaken in Voronezh last fall, it seems at least possible that the airport will be ready to go when we are, but we'll have to wait and see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Classes start Monday, June 9. You know, I swore I'd never take summer school if I could help it, and now what am I doing voluntarily? Silly Sara.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope you'll come along for the ride with me - I'll post pictures and all that. Please take care of my parents - they're still adjusting to shipping me halfway around the world every few months. Have a wonderful day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;End music: &lt;em&gt;Nobilissima Visione: II. Marsch und Pastorale&lt;/em&gt;, Atlanta Symphony Orchestra (why yes, iTunes does think I'm crazy...)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1500932084299538958-1023317518301711306?l=dorussians.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/feeds/1023317518301711306/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1500932084299538958&amp;postID=1023317518301711306' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/1023317518301711306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/1023317518301711306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/2008/05/here-we-go-again.html' title='Here We Go Again'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18365432566364088630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1500932084299538958.post-3757274042358600382</id><published>2007-12-19T06:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-19T06:54:59.052-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Erica'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='classes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='packing'/><title type='text'>And ya pack and ya pack and ya cross over...</title><content type='html'>So those might not quite be the correct words for the Shim-Sham, but I go dancing for the first time in a semester in a week and some change, so I'm excited, okay? :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's over!! Or at least school is. We had our last ( of 2/3 ) exam today. Grammar - blech. But it's over! This was, without a doubt, the easiest exam period of my college career (senior spring in high school is still the easiest of my life - we played Spades all week). Phonetics was Friday, but you can't really study for phonetics, so we just went in and read and got it over with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were supposed to have History on Tuesday, but the teacher got sick and cancelled the exam. Of course, no one told us this, so the three of us girls spent half of Monday night crashed at one apartment, cramming what city KAMAZ trucks are made in (Kazan, in the Volga region), and the order of the first Rus' kings of Russia (Rurik was from 862-879, followed by Oleg, followed by Igor, followed by Olga, whose son-in-law Vladimir Christianized Russia in the 10th century.) We had a couple of Russians on hand for help, and they decided that the stuff we were having to learn was hard. We then showed up Tuesday morning and sat around waiting until we got the teacher's cell phone number and called her, only to find out that she'd already turned in an "excellent" for all of us. Yay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to be packing now, but it's hard. I've successfully *unpacked* both suitcases now, so I can start putting things back in them. I'm worried it's not all going to fit. Oh, dear, oh dear. Don't worry - all of your presents will be coming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think this was originally meant to be more interesting, but I'm tired now. And now, like Erica, I have a new entry to look at. Yay!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1500932084299538958-3757274042358600382?l=dorussians.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/feeds/3757274042358600382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1500932084299538958&amp;postID=3757274042358600382' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/3757274042358600382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/3757274042358600382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/2007/12/and-ya-pack-and-ya-pack-and-ya-cross.html' title='And ya pack and ya pack and ya cross over...'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18365432566364088630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1500932084299538958.post-1298594199069154793</id><published>2007-12-12T01:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-12T02:20:42.460-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='language barrier'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='snow'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tests'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stupidity'/><title type='text'>Happy Thoughts</title><content type='html'>The weather has gotten over its grumpy mood and has resumed the lovely falling-snow thing. You have no idea how incredibly happy this makes me. So happy, in fact, that I busted out the furry white shopka today for the purpose of keeping my head warm. It's somewhere between lovely and ludicrious, I swear (and I can't spell, but that's nothing new).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The shopka really makes me laugh because the boys (that would be the WP and AFA guys that I study with, Ashley), are forever teasing me about the fact that they think I'm visible from a mile off, with my long blonde hair, bright purple scarf, and big white coat. The shopka really just enhances that, I suppose. At the same time, they always see me because I'd stand out in America - here, I actually kind of blend in (I still feel really obvious, but I know I'm not). It's weird like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y'all are all just about done with exams, and I'm still in class. Pooh. On the flip side, we should have exams at the end of this week/ start of next, and then I'll be done. At this moment in time, I don't really know when or what exams I have - they're not really big on advanced planning over here. I'm so ready for classes with schedules and syllabi and all, when you have at least some idea of when things are going to happen, and your course schedule doesn't change at random...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, life at our little apartment is as interesting as always. Yesterday, I accidentally misinformed my hozhaika's son that hozhaika was at the dentist, when she was in fact no such place. You see, she'd been talking about the "zahntekna" and needing something with a "kron". My strange little brain took the "zahn" out of "zahntekna" and said, "Oh! 'Zahn' is tooth in German, thus 'zahntekna' must be dentist. And since we're talking dentistry, a 'kron' must be a crown. I get it!" Um, yeah, not so much. As it turns out, a zahntekna is something plumbing-related, and a kron is a faucet. Way to use that brain... But no harm, no foul, and it's funny, so all's well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hozhaika also managed to 'lose' me yesterday. I'd been at church, and I'd popped my head in when I got home around 9.30, as per usual. Somehow, hozhaika didn't hear my greeting, so I spent a good half hour sitting in my room with the door open, mentally grousing about the fact that I wanted my dinner and wasn't getting it, while she was on the phone with another hozhaika, talking about how she couldn't find her devyshka, and she didn't know where she'd gone. (Mind, I left a note that said I was at church, and I always get in around that time, but whatever.) Silly hozhaika.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be good, stay warm, and enjoy your holiday! I'll see you all soon!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1500932084299538958-1298594199069154793?l=dorussians.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/feeds/1298594199069154793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1500932084299538958&amp;postID=1298594199069154793' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/1298594199069154793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/1298594199069154793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/2007/12/happy-thoughts.html' title='Happy Thoughts'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18365432566364088630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1500932084299538958.post-2593114086728569153</id><published>2007-12-10T05:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-10T05:31:10.833-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='classes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='snow'/><title type='text'>Now it's cold and dark...</title><content type='html'>Cheerful, aren't I? It is, in fact, dark and cold outside at the moment, and it's not snowing, nor has it snowed in the last week-ish, thus there is no need for dark and cold. And I should mention that it's only 4.20 and it's dark. The sun just hasn't been making much of an effort lately - it's kind of sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically, I'm feeling kind of bored and such. I have things to do (ahem, Christmas presents to buy), but I really want to crawl into bed and take a nap. I tried earlier, but I couldn't sleep, and then Anatoli called to give me a slightly garbled message about the concert tonight, so I gave up. I'm not going to the concert, even though I already have tickets (kind of - I have tickets to the originally scheduled time - I have no idea if they'd honor them or not...). It's the winners of the international music contest that ran earlier this week, and I went to that (or at least, I went to 4 hours of the who-knows-how-long extravaganza). It's like having Sing and Pigskin within a few days of each other, when Sing wasn't that amazing to begin with...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't had proper school in at least a week - last week, I had a class-ish bit and then an exam for the boys (I had to take it, but we're not having our exams yet, so it was a just because thing), went to Elets on Wednesday, had a conference on Russian-American relations on Thursday, and then a going-away party for the boys on Friday. Thus, no school. I have classes tomorrow - should be interesting to see if I've forgotten all my Russian yet :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those asking, the book y'all mailed was &lt;em&gt;Poison Study &lt;/em&gt;- I believe the other half of the Powers that Be has a copy. Oh, and I'm at least somewhat hooked on The West Wing these days - yay TV?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically, this was a pointless blog, as I can't come up with anything remotely interesting to say, so: Hi! I'm still alive! And I miss you all! I'll be home in two weeks! I like exclamation points!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1500932084299538958-2593114086728569153?l=dorussians.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/feeds/2593114086728569153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1500932084299538958&amp;postID=2593114086728569153' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/2593114086728569153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/2593114086728569153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/2007/12/now-its-cold-and-dark.html' title='Now it&apos;s cold and dark...'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18365432566364088630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1500932084299538958.post-4187473407398218098</id><published>2007-12-06T07:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-06T07:38:00.735-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='technology'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parents'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stupidity'/><title type='text'>It's dark...</title><content type='html'>As per the title, it is in fact dark. Primarily because the sun went down at about 4 PM today, which is at least mildly depressing in and of itself, but even more depressing is the fact that my entire block's power is out for the second time today. There are few things worse than waking up long before you feel like it, only to discover that it's dark and grey outside, and then having to search the bedside table for the little tiny reading lamp, because the lights won't work. 'Twas not a happy morning today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, after twenty years of maternal worry and protection at candlelight services (seriously - I didn't get my own candle until I was like twelve...), I set my hair on fire on Monday. Twice. (Note: anytime I set something on fire, I seem to do it twice in quick sucession. Remember this should I ever burn my house down, k?) Now that my mother is having a panic attack (you talked to me on Tuesday - clearly, I'm fine), I swear the damage isn't bad. I was toasting bread in our toaster oven (which has no settings at all - it's either plugged in or it's not), and heating water for coffee at the same time. Leaned over to rescue the bread, and dragged a strand of hair in the gas burner (I'm going to need an electric cooktop for safety when I grow up). By the time I realized what the sound was, I'd moved my head, and the flame had puttered out - it only burned an inch or two. Burning hair really does have a very distinctive smell, though. The second time, the burner was off, but still hot enough to singe some more off. You can't tell or anything - I just thought it was interesting. And I really hope someone took pictures of my mother while she was reading that...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This has been a week for creepy Russian men. Monday, I was out doing a touch of shopping, which, as always, involved crossing plenty of streets on foot. While I was waiting for a light to turn, the guy (who was probably at least 30) next to me started talking to me. I have difficulty understanding anything if I'm not really paying attention (gee, imagine that), so I had to ask him to repeat himself. The second time around, I still couldn't sort out what he was saying, but I decided I didn't like the way he was looking at me, so I walked away and stood between a couple of ladies. Sadly, el Creepo didn't get the hint and continued talking to me when we hit the next waiting point and crossed the next street (sometimes you cross half a street, wait, and then cross the rest of the way). Since ignoring wasn't working, and I'm not sure of the best way to say "Buzz off" and mean it in Russian, I ended up going around the opposite side of a kiosk from him, except he kept going, while I stopped and essentially hid behind it so he'd go on and leave me alone. One of the ladies I'd originally tried to hide beside came up and told me to walk with her and whatnot - I believe she got a bit of a kick out of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, last night I was out with Lindsey and her grandparents, on our way to Spartok to meet some people. Again, we were waiting at a light (hitting on random girls on the street is actually considered a valid pick-up technique here...) I'd been turned, talking to Lindsey, so when I turned to face forward, I realize that the guy in front of me is twisted around staring at me. Not just glancing or something, but hard-core, creepy &lt;em&gt;staring&lt;/em&gt;. He then proceeds to inform me that my hair is interesting (I had it up in a Dutch braid) and ask if it's natural. Now, I get the hair question a lot here, but from random dudes on the street? Not so much. I just ignored him and turned back to Lindsey, but the guy kept talking and kinda getting in our faces. Lindsey starts trying to shoo him, asking him what he wants, making it pretty clear that he's not welcome, but he just stared at her as though he couldn't figure out why she was even part of the conversation, and keeps talking at me. Finally, the light turns and he rejoined his friends, but there was more turning around and pointing... Ugh! He was even blonde, but believe me, Lulu, you didn't want him anyways (and no, I'm not bringing either of them back.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's enough for today, methinks. I finished that book y'all sent already - it was good, and I can't wait to read the sequel. Happy finals-ing and stay sane!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1500932084299538958-4187473407398218098?l=dorussians.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/feeds/4187473407398218098/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1500932084299538958&amp;postID=4187473407398218098' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/4187473407398218098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/4187473407398218098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/2007/12/its-dark.html' title='It&apos;s dark...'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18365432566364088630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1500932084299538958.post-5761268653277987552</id><published>2007-12-04T07:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-04T07:58:10.092-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><title type='text'>I've Got A Lovely Bunch of Coconuts...</title><content type='html'>Actually, I don't have any coconuts. Haven't seen one in ages, either - something about the climate in these parts not really supporting them... Funny stuff, that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I &lt;em&gt;do &lt;/em&gt;have is a super-excellent-awesome package from the lovely ladies of Sigma (and a few extras, I believe). Even the part where I had to deal with the postal service yet again, in order to obtain it, went smoothly. They'd butchered my last name on the slip (yes, it's foreign, but it's not that hard and Chelsey wrote clearly...), but they didn't hassle me with the box, so yay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bigger yay, though, to the letters and suprises! I've already sat down and read all of the letters over a cup of coffee au lait (I thought Ashley'd approve) - it was like having all you there for a little bit. I need to reread and take notes, but just the quick stuff for now:&lt;br /&gt;-Is Ashley married yet? It's been a few weeks since the letters were written, so you never know...&lt;br /&gt;-If they're still planning the wedding, can I be the flower girl?&lt;br /&gt;-I hereby promise that I am still alive, and intend to remain so, despite Ashley's apparent desire for my immenient demise...&lt;br /&gt;-Lulu, you and I can celebrate Christmas all break if you'd like - do you have somewhere to go for Christmas? You know you're welcome with us.&lt;br /&gt;-Chelsey, that was a very well-drawn turkey and I love the card - I think I'm going to show it to my hozhaika - I'll let you know what she says.&lt;br /&gt;-H, try to avoid having too many scary stories, okay? Continued survival is good. And nice choice of sticker - do I want to know why you have one of those?&lt;br /&gt;-Sarah and Chelsey and Ashley and everybody else - when I get back (from Russia, not the dead), we shall have a party of sorts and spend lots of time talking about our grand plans for the future without having to make any sort of commitment or serious plan, so that everyone can stop stressing...&lt;br /&gt;-Please don't die with finals, all of you. Good luck!&lt;br /&gt;-I'm already three chapters into the book - good choice, Sarah (and good timing - I just bought&lt;em&gt; The Pickwick Papers &lt;/em&gt;yesterday, and now I can put it off some).&lt;br /&gt;-I'm wearing the socks right now, and I'm planning to back some of those cookies for my trip to Elets tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In conclusion, I have amazing friends, whom I &lt;3. Thanks so very much for brightening my day, y'all!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1500932084299538958-5761268653277987552?l=dorussians.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/feeds/5761268653277987552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1500932084299538958&amp;postID=5761268653277987552' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/5761268653277987552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/5761268653277987552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/2007/12/ive-got-lovely-bunch-of-coconuts.html' title='I&apos;ve Got A Lovely Bunch of Coconuts...'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18365432566364088630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1500932084299538958.post-2756702216471426493</id><published>2007-11-29T09:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-29T09:33:03.695-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Erica'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='language barrier'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='snow'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stupidity'/><title type='text'>Going Postal, Part II</title><content type='html'>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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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').&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, have a wonderful Friday!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1500932084299538958-2756702216471426493?l=dorussians.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/feeds/2756702216471426493/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1500932084299538958&amp;postID=2756702216471426493' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/2756702216471426493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/2756702216471426493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/2007/11/going-postal-part-ii.html' title='Going Postal, Part II'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18365432566364088630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1500932084299538958.post-339510199504712562</id><published>2007-11-26T07:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-26T07:48:24.904-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='language barrier'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stupidity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Russia'/><title type='text'>Going Postal, Russian-style</title><content type='html'>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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It probably wouldn't have been that traumatic, except the post office was &lt;em&gt;packed&lt;/em&gt;, 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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, don't mail stuff in Russia. Just don't do it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1500932084299538958-339510199504712562?l=dorussians.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/feeds/339510199504712562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1500932084299538958&amp;postID=339510199504712562' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/339510199504712562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/339510199504712562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/2007/11/going-postal-russian-style.html' title='Going Postal, Russian-style'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18365432566364088630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1500932084299538958.post-2275865651510419393</id><published>2007-11-25T06:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-25T06:59:18.062-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='church'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shopping'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='holidays'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Russia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>Holy Updates, Batman!</title><content type='html'>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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's all for now, folks. Much love!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1500932084299538958-2275865651510419393?l=dorussians.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/feeds/2275865651510419393/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1500932084299538958&amp;postID=2275865651510419393' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/2275865651510419393'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/2275865651510419393'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/2007/11/holy-updates-batman.html' title='Holy Updates, Batman!'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18365432566364088630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1500932084299538958.post-652055281011157514</id><published>2007-11-24T06:35:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-24T07:11:27.761-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='travel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shopping'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='language barrier'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='holidays'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>The Rumors are True - I'm Still Alive...</title><content type='html'>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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1500932084299538958-652055281011157514?l=dorussians.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/feeds/652055281011157514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1500932084299538958&amp;postID=652055281011157514' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/652055281011157514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/652055281011157514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/2007/11/rumors-are-true-im-still-alive.html' title='The Rumors are True - I&apos;m Still Alive...'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18365432566364088630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1500932084299538958.post-5103236431048209086</id><published>2007-11-12T06:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-12T07:14:18.709-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='excursion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='travel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shopping'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='snow'/><title type='text'>I'm Bored, Therefore I Blog</title><content type='html'>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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;VSU's Rules for Travelling in the Caucauses:&lt;br /&gt;1. Don't go to Chechnya. (or Dagestan, or Ingushetia, or North Ossetia, I'm assuming.)&lt;br /&gt;2. Don't go to Georgia. (The country - I don't think they have anything against the state.)&lt;br /&gt;3. Don't fall off the mountain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think there was some other stuff in there, too, but the above was really the important bits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS - I haven't made any reference to Christmas in this post yet, so CHRISTMAS! Have a nice day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1500932084299538958-5103236431048209086?l=dorussians.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/feeds/5103236431048209086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1500932084299538958&amp;postID=5103236431048209086' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/5103236431048209086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/5103236431048209086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/2007/11/im-bored-therefore-i-blog.html' title='I&apos;m Bored, Therefore I Blog'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18365432566364088630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1500932084299538958.post-8584029854079961081</id><published>2007-11-10T06:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-10T07:18:51.024-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='excursion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='language barrier'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='classes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pictures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='snow'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cowboy boots'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>The Weather Outside is Frightful...</title><content type='html'>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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other exciting nonsense in my life:&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things I've learned today:&lt;br /&gt;-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.&lt;br /&gt;-Krasnaya Shapochka candy is really good.&lt;br /&gt;-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).&lt;br /&gt;-Cirok with cocoa is amazing. Cirok, for the uninitiated, is essentially a small bar of cream cheese coated in chocolate. The aforementioned variety is &lt;em&gt;chocolate&lt;/em&gt; 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?)&lt;br /&gt;-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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;St Petersburg:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://baylor.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2138813&amp;amp;l=fcded&amp;amp;id=9214311"&gt;http://baylor.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2138813&amp;amp;l=fcded&amp;amp;id=9214311&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://baylor.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2138988&amp;amp;l=3290c&amp;amp;id=9214311"&gt;http://baylor.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2138988&amp;amp;l=3290c&amp;amp;id=9214311&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://baylor.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2139130&amp;amp;l=7eb3d&amp;amp;id=9214311"&gt;http://baylor.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2139130&amp;amp;l=7eb3d&amp;amp;id=9214311&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://baylor.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2139245&amp;amp;l=dee96&amp;amp;id=9214311"&gt;http://baylor.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2139245&amp;amp;l=dee96&amp;amp;id=9214311&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Voronezh:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://baylor.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2139363&amp;amp;l=b06f8&amp;amp;id=9214311"&gt;http://baylor.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2139363&amp;amp;l=b06f8&amp;amp;id=9214311&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1500932084299538958-8584029854079961081?l=dorussians.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/feeds/8584029854079961081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1500932084299538958&amp;postID=8584029854079961081' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/8584029854079961081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/8584029854079961081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/2007/11/weather-outside-is-frightful.html' title='The Weather Outside is Frightful...'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18365432566364088630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1500932084299538958.post-1396472177344218713</id><published>2007-11-05T03:54:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-05T04:31:29.712-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='snow'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='game'/><title type='text'>It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas...</title><content type='html'>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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now for a little game:&lt;br /&gt;The Rules:&lt;br /&gt;1. I have to post these rules before I give you the facts.&lt;br /&gt;2. Each player starts with eight random facts/habits about themselves.&lt;br /&gt;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)&lt;br /&gt;4. At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.&lt;br /&gt;5. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read their blog. Here goes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;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...&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;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).&lt;br /&gt;7. For someone who worries so much about grades, I don't know my current GPA (need to go look that up, actually...)&lt;br /&gt;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...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think there was going to be more to this entry but the computer is slow and the day moves onward. Later days!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1500932084299538958-1396472177344218713?l=dorussians.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/feeds/1396472177344218713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1500932084299538958&amp;postID=1396472177344218713' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/1396472177344218713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/1396472177344218713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/2007/11/its-beginning-to-look-lot-like.html' title='It&apos;s beginning to look a lot like Christmas...'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18365432566364088630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1500932084299538958.post-8967773940784431569</id><published>2007-10-27T02:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-27T02:46:47.284-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sousa'/><title type='text'>PS</title><content type='html'>In sorta-answer to this blog's question, the lady next to me in the Internet salon definitely has the piccolo part from "Stars and Stripes Forever" as her ringtone. So, yes, Russians do play Sousa - on their cell phones, at least.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1500932084299538958-8967773940784431569?l=dorussians.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/feeds/8967773940784431569/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1500932084299538958&amp;postID=8967773940784431569' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/8967773940784431569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/8967773940784431569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/2007/10/ps.html' title='PS'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18365432566364088630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1500932084299538958.post-1366708978806330578</id><published>2007-10-27T02:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-27T02:44:40.344-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Erica'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shopping'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='language barrier'/><title type='text'>How Time Does Fly...</title><content type='html'>Start music: Fleetwood Mac's &lt;em&gt;The Chain &lt;/em&gt;(seems kind of fitting for the girl who's too lazy to update all that often...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So October's almost over, and we passed our halfway point sometime earlier this week. It's weird - it seems like time has sped by being here, and yet it seems like there's so much time left to go. It doesn't help that a very vocal part of my brain is convinced that cold weather = Christmas and that it is, therefore, almost Christmas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm all registered for classes today - thanks to Baylor weirdness, I have all 15 academic hours on MWF, running from 8 AM to 3.30, maybe? And since harp tends to fall on Mondays, I'll probably just be working on Tuesday/Thursday - crazy, isn't it? My schedule came out with: Principles of Microeconomics (04), Intermediate German (01), Fundamentals of International Politics (02), Russian Reading Development, Introduction to Slavic/Eastern European Studies, and Harp. Anyone have class with me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things I've done today: gone to the gym, gathered up my clothes for the wash, had a discussion with my hozhaika about the wash (which I think has probably resulted in everything - pinks, darks, whites, getting washed together...), had a discussion with my hozhaika about rent payment (she's decided she wants USD this month since she "already has Russian money". Because it's so easy to find USD in provincial Russia...), bought lunch at a kiosk (I miss Dr Pepper, and I'm going to miss 25 ruble pitas), and now I'm on the Internet (in case you can't tell).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things I'm excited about: the cookie thing in my purse, going to the grocery to buy water*, the bookstore that sells both English novels and Star Wars books in Russian, the ballet in a few weeks (I'm going twice in the same week), the upcoming trip to the Caucasuses, the fact that I got my box from my parents yesterday (!) (Erica - your birthday book made it all the way to Russia - the 'rents mailed it to me, and it made me glad), the fact that I've actually cast on and started knitting a sweater (it's about two inches long at the moment...), and who knows what else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My brain's kind of scattered at the moment, so apologies for the correspondingly scattered blog post. Tell me about what's going on with all of y'all at home - I miss you! Have a Happy Halloween!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*The grocery store is an actual Western-style supermarket. I can't recall if I've blogged about it before, but trust me, it makes my heart glad to go and wander up and down the marked aisles, where you can pick up things and examine them for yourself and look in the freezer cases and all that. It's funny the things that end up being comforting...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1500932084299538958-1366708978806330578?l=dorussians.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/feeds/1366708978806330578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1500932084299538958&amp;postID=1366708978806330578' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/1366708978806330578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/1366708978806330578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/2007/10/how-time-does-fly.html' title='How Time Does Fly...'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18365432566364088630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1500932084299538958.post-4748589577002926601</id><published>2007-10-18T07:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-18T07:49:51.880-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Baby, It's Cold Outside (aka I May Never Understand the Russian Mind)</title><content type='html'>So Monday was cold - collar up, find the gloves, consider pulling out the winter coat cold (they have fall coats and winter coats here - it was winter coat weather). Now, the past two days have been absolutely lovely - I took off my fleece and rolled my sleeves up on the way home from the gym because it was such nice weather. The majority of the Russians I pass on the street, however, are living in some alternate universe in which the next Ice Age is beginning. We're talking ankle-length wool or down coat, serious winter weather hattage (they like hats), the whole nine yards. They have to be sweating under all that, and yet they soldier on, all geared up for the unexpected blizzard that's bound to befall us in the next week or so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Within these masses of extra bundled up people, there are subsets. Babyshkas (grandmas) get a free pass - most babyshki are prepared for a snowstorm in the middle of August, so there's really no passing of the seasons for them. Babies can't dress themselves, so they're spared the blame, but one has to wonder - the babies and small children have been dressed for subzero temperatures since we got here. I'm wondering what's going to happen when it actually gets cold - I fully expect to see a baby wearing the snowsuit it's been wearing since September, wrapped in a layer of fleece and stuffed into another snowsuit, with the entire ensemble topped off with a jaunty hat... It's a wonder the children don't keel over from the heat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think this entry was meant to contain more of the usual ranting and raving about classes and the Russian language (verbs of motion are evil, I tell you), but blogging about people in heavy coats has lightened my mood. Yay! I miss you all, be good!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1500932084299538958-4748589577002926601?l=dorussians.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/feeds/4748589577002926601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1500932084299538958&amp;postID=4748589577002926601' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/4748589577002926601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/4748589577002926601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/2007/10/baby-its-cold-outside-aka-i-may-never.html' title='Baby, It&apos;s Cold Outside (aka I May Never Understand the Russian Mind)'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18365432566364088630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1500932084299538958.post-1635602651695808600</id><published>2007-10-16T07:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-16T08:15:48.210-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gym'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='language barrier'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='classes'/><title type='text'>I'm still here...</title><content type='html'>Sorry for my long absence - I know y'all have just been dying to hear the latest from the Eastern Front, right? Actually, I spent last week on semi-vacation sightseeing in St Petersburg (Leningrad, if you're a Russian of a certain age...) Thanks to the loan of an adapter from Lindsey, I'm able to use my laptop for non-internet stuff, so I'm currently composing an epic entry on St Pete's, so for now it's just back to our regularly scheduled complaining...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School was a pain today. First Anatoli decides to give us a pop test. I asked if it was for a grade, and he muttered something about Americans and always wanting to know if things were for a grade. I'm sorry, but in America, we have these things called GPAs, and we tend to care about them. It was just a progress test, but I was annoyed anyways - who the heck gives a test without warning?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also did a reading comprehension passage that I think must've come from the Russian equivalent of the National Enquirer - it was about some lady who passed out in school and when she came to, she could speak 120 languages. Her theory is that the languages came from 120 previous lives, and she talks about bits of past lives she can remember - see what I mean about the National Enquirer? :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Homework is from the Verbs of Motion book. I HATE verbs of motion in Russian - either you go, or you don't. All this complication is really unnecessary, if you ask me. AND my Verbs of Motion text (publication 1975) is missing the key in the back. It's supposed to have one, but the last 30+ pages of my text is missing. Argh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a positive note, I stopped at the rinok to buy yummy cheap bread and some cashews for lunch. I think I'm really going to miss the rinok and the people there - the bread lady always makes sure to pick out a piece that's good and warm, even though it's only 10 rubles (about 40 cents). The lady I buy cashews and pecans from remembered me - the last time Lindsey and I were there, she got all excited because we were conversing with each other in English. Voronezh doesn't see a terrible lot of foreigners, so they really do excited to meet innostrantsi. Anyway, she remembered that I was an American (actually, her first guess was Mexican, but I think that's because I always say I'm from Texas), and she wanted to know where I was studying and what. It was nice. Also, the heat in the city is on, so the radiator in my room is making an effort - it's a good place to put clothing to warm it up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a funny, I got mistaken for the mother of a 6-year-old at the gym yesterday. There were only three of us in the locker room - me, the little girl (complete with blonde pigtails) and her mother. The lady who does the children's classes came in and did the whole hands-on-the-knees, talk to the kid thing. She then looks at me and asks "Mama, da?" at which point I paniced and started pointing towards the mother's locker on the other side of the bank of lockers, saying "Nyet, nyet, ana tam" (no, no, she's over there). Fortunately, the mom decided to appear before they gave me the girl...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all for now, kids. Be good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1500932084299538958-1635602651695808600?l=dorussians.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/feeds/1635602651695808600/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1500932084299538958&amp;postID=1635602651695808600' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/1635602651695808600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/1635602651695808600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/2007/10/im-still-here.html' title='I&apos;m still here...'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18365432566364088630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1500932084299538958.post-1061648856984105210</id><published>2007-10-03T08:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-03T09:22:47.554-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gym'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='church'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='language barrier'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pictures'/><title type='text'>Of Gyms and Drugstores</title><content type='html'>So I went to the gym today. As I do many days. Because there's really not that much to do here, and since chocolate is one of the other major things to do here, I have to make things balance out. I'm going to pay for it tomorrow, I think, especially since today was weight-increase day for me, so I upped the amount I was lifting on most things. Maybe if I just keep telling myself I was a good girl for going, it'll be okay. At least the showers were fixed today - I went yesterday, only to be met with broken showers. I then had to run home post-workout and take a cold shower (hot water is hard to get during the day) so I wouldn't smell funny for church.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Church was fun - yesterday was a "club" for older kids in the local orphanage and for kids who've aged out of the orphanage. I still didn't understand most of what was going on, but the people are nice and the fellowship is good. Zhenya, who's about 13, I think, seems to have decided that I'm at least mildly entertaining in my attempts to follow what's going on, was kind enough to make sure I understood what I was supposed to be doing in the games and such. He's the self-declared paparazzi, so he's got a lovely shot of me sticking my tongue out. I shudder to think what's going to happen to that when he's done with the Photoshop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Post-gym, I had to walk all the way to Frederich Engels* to buy a banana, so I stopped at the drugstore to buy some shampoo and conditioner. You know how you can stand on the hair products aisle for about an hour, considering all the various options, weighing the promises and the murky distinctions between brands and subtypes? (Ok, at least &lt;em&gt;I &lt;/em&gt;can do that for a long time.) Now imagine trying to do that with an aisle full of products labelled in a language you have to concentrate to read. Fun times. What's up with the not actually labelling the contents of the bottle? It's great that's a new scent or for color treated hair, but what is it? Who at the advertising agency decided that the consumer didn't need to know if it was shampoo, conditioner, or some random concoction (and Russians love those) in that colorful plastic bottle? Seriously. On a random note, Palmolive (whom I mostly associate with dishwashing liquid) is a big name in beauty brands here, it seems. Then again, the company that makes my hairspray (or hair lacquer, as the can translates to) - Wella - also has a storefront on our street that sells paint products. Weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of my pictures from the Volgagrad weekend are now up. Captions and translations to come. They're publicly viewable via Facebook at &lt;a href="http://baylor.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2131471&amp;amp;l=0482c&amp;amp;id=9214311"&gt;http://baylor.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2131471&amp;amp;l=0482c&amp;amp;id=9214311&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://baylor.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2132166&amp;amp;l=ccb6a&amp;amp;id=9214311"&gt;http://baylor.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2132166&amp;amp;l=ccb6a&amp;amp;id=9214311&lt;/a&gt; I'm planning to blog about the weekend, too, but that's going to have to wait until I have a lot of time and concentration, as I want to do all the war memorials justice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a wonderful rest of the week!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Yes, we have a Frederich Engels street - it's one of the main streets in the area. We also have a "Revolution", "9th January", "Karl Marx", and who knows what else. Oh yeah, and a huge statue of Stalin...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1500932084299538958-1061648856984105210?l=dorussians.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/feeds/1061648856984105210/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1500932084299538958&amp;postID=1061648856984105210' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/1061648856984105210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/1061648856984105210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/2007/10/of-gyms-and-drugstores.html' title='Of Gyms and Drugstores'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18365432566364088630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1500932084299538958.post-808353552277280596</id><published>2007-09-27T08:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-27T08:32:00.306-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gym'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='holidays'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Russia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cowboy boots'/><title type='text'>I feel pretty...</title><content type='html'>Since none of you lovely kids are here to see me, and since this stuff isn't seasonal very often at Baylor, I feel the need to share that I look cute today (or at least I think so). I'm wearing a white tank under a cobalt blue v-neck with my brown linen skirt and my cowboy boots. At least one woman has actaully ogled my boots today (as in she stared at my feet with her jaw dropped when she walked by). It's actually kind of funny - at least one of my companions rolled her eyes at my boots initially, but it turns out that I'm the height of fashion here - cowboy boots are very "in" right now. Of course, most of theirs are metallic with about a four-inch heel, but that just makes mine that much cooler, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fun facts about Russia:&lt;br /&gt;-Russian door knobs don't turn. They're like cabinet handles or something - a flat disk on a stem.&lt;br /&gt;-Russian women love love love high heels. (Ashley would fit right in) They are not detered by such minor hazards as lack of sidewalk, puddles resembling small lakes, and portions of the pavement that were probably nice and smooth when people still used the term "comrade".&lt;br /&gt;-Don't drink the water. When buying bottled water, make sure it's still (that would be the light blue cap for my beloved Bon Aqua).&lt;br /&gt;-You can buy American hot chocolate at street stands for under a buck, but it isn't available at the swanky places. What they call "hot chocolate" is actual, molten chocolate. What we call "hot chocolate" they designate as "hot chocolate milk" (which is actually kind of accuate, but whatever.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got stopped and asked for directions today. I understood  most of the question, but I didn't actually know the answer, so I just told her I was sorry, but I didn't know. That was kind of cool, though. It probably helps that I do have Russian coloration, and today's get-up is kind of Russian (the usual jeans and a long sleeve t and sneakers is not so Russian).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to the gym again today, even though I didn't really want to. I got another correction in Russian-English. I understood him (plus I already knew what he was telling me - I shouldn't get lazy about my form when people are watching), but when I tried to fill in blanks in English (this trainer has been learning new English from us), he thought I didn't understand, so the explanation got longer and longer. Fun times. I also stopped at the chocolate factory and bought a 100 grams of a new kind of candy. I think I'm just going to work my way through in little bits, so I'll have an idea of what the really good stuff is, and I'll bring that back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can someone on campus tell me what happened that resulted in my getting an e-mail about not inviting political folks on campus? I checked the Lariat online, but it didn't have anything useful to offer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A very happy birthday to Miss Hannah Madera today. Be sure and make her dance lots tonight. We're hoping to find somewhere to dance (at least one WP boy has agreed to it), but I'm not holding out a lot of hope. Then again, there was definitely a dance routine (jazz) to Big Bad Voodoo Daddy's "Big Time Operator" on Day of the City earlier this month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I can't believe I've already been here a month, and other times Christmas can't come fast enough. I miss you all, and I look forward to seeing you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1500932084299538958-808353552277280596?l=dorussians.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/feeds/808353552277280596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1500932084299538958&amp;postID=808353552277280596' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/808353552277280596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/808353552277280596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/2007/09/i-feel-pretty.html' title='I feel pretty...'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18365432566364088630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1500932084299538958.post-1087242793469403673</id><published>2007-09-21T07:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-21T07:46:08.456-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='excursion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='classes'/><title type='text'>The Lazy Bum Rides Again</title><content type='html'>...So I was supposed to be leaving for Volgagrad (aka Stalingrad) on a bus at 10 tonight. However, it was not to be. This week, at least. Thanks to the beauty of the Russian way of doing business, the plans fell through at the last minute and the trip's been postponed indefinitely. If you want to know why anyone would go to Volgagrad, check out the Battle of Stalingrad during WWII. It's pretty awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week, I learned that a Russian T-80 tank can actually take flight under proper circumstances. Now that's cool. Today, I painted a picture and sang folk songs. Have I ever mentioned how much I love Fridays?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the course of the week, I have also: finished that cabled blue scarf (in under a week - I told you I was bored), walked out of class in tears, watched an animated Russian version of Snow White, bought more yarn, walked around in a t-shirt, walked around in two jackets, drank an expensive (but yummy) approximation of a frappucino, eaten pizza for breakfast, bought shots (for other people - I owed a guy), put quite a lot effort into my grammar book, finished &lt;em&gt;Redeeming Love&lt;/em&gt;, and did a lot of other random stuff. Welcome to Russia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a three-day weekend for the rest of the semester. They've moved my group's one Monday class to Fridays, so all I have is military history in the afternoons. And I'm taking that one voluntarily, so I'm not allowed to complain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So course listings are up for spring. The one course that I've suffered through lots of ugly math courses for is not being offered. It is only offered in the spring. I don't know what's going on - I need to e-mail the Math Department and consider begging. As far as everything else goes, I don't really know what I'm taking. I'm supposed to take my exit interview, but I'm going to have to postpone until senior fall. I know I'm taking Russian, Harp, and an Economics course (there are a lot of them - I'm just filling in whatever works with my schedule). I'm considering taking: Fundamentals of International Politics, International Political Economics, Introduction to Slavic/Eastern European Studies, Intermediate German, Politics and Problems of Developing Countries, Politics and Problems of the Middle East, Diplomacy in Theory and Practice, War and Peace in the Middle East, and International Business. Thoughts and suggestions are always welcome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My internet time is getting pricey, so I should probably go. Have a wonderful weekend!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1500932084299538958-1087242793469403673?l=dorussians.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/feeds/1087242793469403673/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1500932084299538958&amp;postID=1087242793469403673' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/1087242793469403673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/1087242793469403673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/2007/09/lazy-bum-rides-again.html' title='The Lazy Bum Rides Again'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18365432566364088630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1500932084299538958.post-6016615474803228980</id><published>2007-09-14T23:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-14T23:59:56.055-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shopping'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='classes'/><title type='text'>La La La</title><content type='html'>Happy Saturday everyone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my first full week of proper classes is now complete (OK, sans Monday since I stayed home, but that's only one class). Grammar is boring (big surprise), even though it is mildly entertaining that the professor continually apologizes for the Russian language. Practical Speaking is mind-numbingly basic at the moment, but I'm holding out hope that it'll get better. Phonetics is aggravating more than anything, but we get to laugh at ourselves and each other, so whatever. I really like Russian Regional Culture so far - it's all in Russian, but it's understandable. The first class was really interesting, as we talked about the derivations of various names and how most names people think of as "Russian" are actually derived from other cultures. Russian Military History is cool, and I like the professor. I need to do my homework - a three-minute speech on Chechnya (in Russian). I kind of need to find a military dictionary to use - it's on today's shopping list. History of Voronezh is ok - we have it with the Estonian kids, and the teacher speaks more to their level than to ours, so part of it goes over our heads. And finally, Russian Folk Songs is great. The professor is entertaining and he has a great voice. It's actually really quite fun to sing together like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Props to everyone who just waded through that big block of text - it's good practice for the real world, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been raining all week, which really stinks if you don't have an umbrella or a rain jacket (namely, me). I did buy a pretty blue fleece yesterday to add another layer and keep warm, so that makes me happy. It's just chilly and windy here today, but it's really not bad at all without the rain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, we're going to be doing some shopping and looking to see if we can find the Baptist church. Sasha the elder drew me a map, so we should be okay. For shopping, Voronezh is described by Russians as a "small city" (because 1 million people is definitely small). However, I think one of the WP boys was right on when he said it's really like living in a New York neighborhood. The shops are all along the fronts of the streets and apartments are either above them or set back off the street on an alleyway sort of set up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are lots of little boutique-type shops on the way to school, most of which have very few clothes that cost quite a lot of money. We've now found another yarn shop right around the corner from us, which is very nice. I've got the scarf I'm working on, and then probably another. After that, I think I'm going to try my hand at a sweater. Then I can wear said sweater and be slightly less cold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are also several open air markets within easy walking distance of us. At least one extends for several blocks - it's just row upon row of little stalls selling shoes, hose, shirts, purses - anything and everything. Everytime I've been, it's rained, so I'm hoping to get to go when I'm not primarily concerned with my falling body temperature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully that's enough reading material for y'all. Enjoy the weekend!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1500932084299538958-6016615474803228980?l=dorussians.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/feeds/6016615474803228980/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1500932084299538958&amp;postID=6016615474803228980' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/6016615474803228980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/6016615474803228980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/2007/09/la-la-la.html' title='La La La'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18365432566364088630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1500932084299538958.post-3970111537905945296</id><published>2007-09-11T09:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-11T09:39:06.907-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='classes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pictures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>That good ol' college try</title><content type='html'>First off, I think this link may work for pictures : &lt;a href="https://fs-exchange.baylor.edu/exchweb/bin/redir.asp?URL=http://www.russiantrip.snapfish.com/snapfish" target="_blank"&gt;www.russiantrip.snapfish.com/snapfish&lt;/a&gt; . If not, inform me again, and I'll give up and curl into a little ball under the desk at the Internet cafe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw Chelsey's secret twin on the bus today. I was mildly spooked. Privet, Chelsey :-)&lt;br /&gt;Obviously, I successfully rode the bus to school today. I'm still getting over my stomach bug or whatever, so I didn't really feel like making the walk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to class on a proper schedule today for the first time this semester. (Everyone else did yesterday, but I was at home sleeping.) We had phonetics (yuck), grammar, a bit of history (to fill the time, we think), and speaking (for idiots). I also had History of the Russian Military (in Russian) this afternoon. I'm really excited about that one - the professor seems pretty cool, even though he doesn't speak any English at all. We had to take pictures by university (only 2 of the 4 Baylor girls are taking that class) and number ourselves in relation to the role.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After morning classes, my small group found a pizza place that actually makes fairly believable pizza. Ok, so one of them was an interesting shade of fluorescent yellow, but the rest seemed pretty normal. I'm still getting better, so I didn't eat any. They really like to douse everything in rosemary here, which kinda grosses me out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laura and I found the yarn shop today, so we have supplies to work on scarves and whatnot. I'm excited - I'll have something to do, finally. I'm rapidly running out of English-language literature to read (Lindsey's going to have to share her reading list, I think...). If you've ever noticed how busy I stay during the year, it's partially because I'm not very good at not doing anything...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's getting chilly here, which means in another month or so, I'm going to be dying of cold. Excellent. I should probably get around to buying a coat, maybe, possibly, perhaps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I &lt;3 the lot of y'all. Be good!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1500932084299538958-3970111537905945296?l=dorussians.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/feeds/3970111537905945296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1500932084299538958&amp;postID=3970111537905945296' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/3970111537905945296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/3970111537905945296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/2007/09/that-good-ol-college-try.html' title='That good ol&apos; college try'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18365432566364088630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1500932084299538958.post-8742483279153977864</id><published>2007-09-09T05:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-09T05:07:46.326-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pictures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stupidity'/><title type='text'>And Sara doesn't know how to work the computer...</title><content type='html'>So, as has been pointed out, the link provided below is less than functional because Snapfish is dumb. Excellent. If you love me and want to see my pictures before I get around to straightening things out (which won't be today - I'm sickly), ask me for an invite and I'll happily toss one your way. Erica already gets one because she's cool and like her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1500932084299538958-8742483279153977864?l=dorussians.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/feeds/8742483279153977864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1500932084299538958&amp;postID=8742483279153977864' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/8742483279153977864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/8742483279153977864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/2007/09/and-sara-doesnt-know-how-to-work.html' title='And Sara doesn&apos;t know how to work the computer...'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18365432566364088630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1500932084299538958.post-9071928264167521698</id><published>2007-09-08T04:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-08T04:37:41.775-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pictures'/><title type='text'>Pictures! (Kinda)</title><content type='html'>Just a quick note to let y'all know that a) I'm still breathing and b) I have, in fact, uploaded some pictures. They're viewable at &lt;a href="http://www1.snapfish.com/home/t_=105169794"&gt;http://www1.snapfish.com/home/t_=105169794&lt;/a&gt; . Unfortunately, it's registration required, so I should probably move them to somewhere else. That's a later thing, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a wonderful weekend!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1500932084299538958-9071928264167521698?l=dorussians.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/feeds/9071928264167521698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1500932084299538958&amp;postID=9071928264167521698' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/9071928264167521698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/9071928264167521698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/2007/09/pictures-kinda.html' title='Pictures! (Kinda)'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18365432566364088630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1500932084299538958.post-6575538310595978723</id><published>2007-09-04T07:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-04T08:00:53.842-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gym'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='excursion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tests'/><title type='text'>They Really Like the Word "Excursion"</title><content type='html'>Hope y'all had a happy Labor Day and enjoyed the day off school and whatnot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While y'all were sleeping in and relaxing, the hardworking students of Voronezh State University were in class :-P Actually, the real VSU students started school on Saturday (along with the rest of Voronezh). Since we're spoiled Americans, we still get a Saturday-Sunday weekend. It's nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, the first day of school. Several of us got together and walked to school around 9.00 - classes started at 10.00, and it's a pretty decent walk. There are 15 of us all together, since the AFA boys got here - we're one of the largest, if not the largest, contingient of American students in the country (we tend to get curious looks when we travel en masse). We study in a rather run-down building with all the other foreign students. For the first day, we just met all the professors and had to go around the table and do the whole introduce yourself (in Russian) bit. After that, we took a nice, relaxing grammar test, which made at least one of my fellow students wax nostalgic for O Chem. Then, we got back together and listened to Tatiana lecture at length about the mountain-thing we went to for today's excursion. I did a lot of smiling and nodding...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were done before two, so most of us went and grabbed a bite to eat. (Note: Russians do have fried cheese, but it's not the same kind, etc, etc). And then it was time to go to the gym and get sore, because that's what you do in Voronezh if you're bored. (Or at least, that's what we do).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had an excursion today (more on that later, hopefully with pictures), and tomorrow we get to find out how poorly we did on the grammar test. Fun times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be good!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1500932084299538958-6575538310595978723?l=dorussians.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/feeds/6575538310595978723/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1500932084299538958&amp;postID=6575538310595978723' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/6575538310595978723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/6575538310595978723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/2007/09/they-really-like-word-excursion.html' title='They Really Like the Word &quot;Excursion&quot;'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18365432566364088630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1500932084299538958.post-497822504982927323</id><published>2007-09-02T06:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-02T06:38:38.004-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Erica'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gym'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='homework'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='technology'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='language barrier'/><title type='text'>Last Day of Freedom</title><content type='html'>In answer to the first of Erica's bajillion questions (:D), I start classes tomorrow. At least, I'm under the general impression that tomorrow is Monday. Between all the travel weirdness and the lack of defined schedule, I'm a little out of the loop as far as normal times of day are concerned. Russia runs on the 24-hour clock, so I'm constanly subtracting 12 from times, too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The WP kids had an assignment to complete after Saturday's jaunt around the city. We (the Baylor girls) kinda think we might have one, too, but since Ben only grabbed enough for them, we're pretending we don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really wanted to upload pictures from my trip and from yesterday, but I put them on my USB, only to discover that this internet cafe doesn't have accessible USB ports. I'll either burn them to CD and upload from there, or I'll have to go to the expensive gaming cafe and use their USB ports. (On the gaming cafe - the boys told us it was so much cheaper, etc, etc, and we went rather out of our way, only to discover that if you're on the Internet, it's actually rather pricey...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laura and I went to the gym today - it's only about $40/month for full time access and full classes and all that - it's pretty nice. I know I'm going to hurt tomorrow, though. The showers and all are nice, so I think we may just start showering there at least part-time, so we don't have to feel bad about using the water or anything. They didn't have a squat rack, though. Who runs a gym without a squat rack?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had my first moment of major frustration today. My transformer wasn't working with my laptop (BestBuy lady lied!), and there was an adapter laying out, so I just used it. Turns out it was Sasha the elder's, and I thought he was mad at me. I don't think he really was, but I was upset, and I kept trying to ask where I could buy one, and he kept telling me over and over that he bought it in China. I understood, but he wouldn't answer my question. It really didn't help that apparently what we call an adapter is not what Russian call an adapter. Argh! I was so frustrated with not being able to communicate (on top of major difficulties trying to get directions to the Catholic Church for Laura) that I just needed to get out (and to eat), so I went down to the street vendor and bought a pita. After a little food and a little space, I felt better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the little stands plays music, and for a moment I thought I'd found an affirmative answer to the title question. Alas, I think it was actually the William Tell Overture, so no luck yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take care and have a good week of classes, guys!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1500932084299538958-497822504982927323?l=dorussians.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/feeds/497822504982927323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1500932084299538958&amp;postID=497822504982927323' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/497822504982927323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/497822504982927323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/2007/09/last-day-of-freedom.html' title='Last Day of Freedom'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18365432566364088630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1500932084299538958.post-341459847819883343</id><published>2007-09-01T07:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-01T07:13:38.885-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Are you sure it's Saturday?</title><content type='html'>So today, I had school stuff. On a Saturday. Then again, we don't have classes on Saturdays - Russians do. We went on a tour around the city, which primarily consisted of Tatiana saying lots of things in Russian and me doing a lot of smiling and nodding.&lt;br /&gt;Actually, I understood a lot of what she said. However, we stopped at WWII museum that I think I would have enjoyed if I'd understood any of it. Key word if. I did like the propaganda posters, though. Those use short words and I can read them. I managed to follow bits and pieces and fill in blanks with what I knew, though. I was explaining to one of the other girls that the guide kept pointing to two pictures from the Nuernburg trials because the American guard had slipped the convicted, bad German poison before he was hanged. She stared and asked how I'd managed to catch all that. My response? "I didn't. I took the History of Modern Germany." Thanks Dr Hendon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a cell phone yesterday. Five or six of our group all got the same phone, so this should be fun, sorting out whose is whose. Mine keeps receiving random text message type things. I'm not getting charged or anything, so I think they're from the phone company. Some of them sound suspiciously like propositions, whereas others are just conversation-starter type questions. Weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A bunch of the other kids are going out dancing at a club called Flamingo tonight, but y'all know me. I hate crowds and noise and all that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to run (not literally - Russia hasn't changed my fundamental values, don't worry :-D), so more later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1500932084299538958-341459847819883343?l=dorussians.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/feeds/341459847819883343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1500932084299538958&amp;postID=341459847819883343' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/341459847819883343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/341459847819883343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/2007/09/are-you-sure-its-saturday.html' title='Are you sure it&apos;s Saturday?'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18365432566364088630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1500932084299538958.post-943611643452761975</id><published>2007-08-30T06:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-30T06:39:55.371-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Have Confidence...</title><content type='html'>Hey guys!&lt;br /&gt;I'm now all landed in Voronezh and getting settled in (by "settled in" I mean sleeping a lot and occaisionally moving items from one part of the suitcase to another.) I'm living with a host family and with Laura, another Baylor student. Some things I've noticed from my travels:&lt;br /&gt;1) Everywhere has more trees than Dallas.&lt;br /&gt;2) Zurich really looks like it does in the German textbook.&lt;br /&gt;3) Germans really do dress like they do in the German textbook (which scares me a bit).&lt;br /&gt;4) Russians compensate for having cold outside by keeping it really hot inside (it's sweltering in the cafe I'm in).&lt;br /&gt;5)Puppies are the same all over the world.&lt;br /&gt;6) Never trust someone from the embassy to fill you in on all the important details (aka what time your train leaves - the WP kids, not us, thankfully).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm tired and at an Internet cafe, so I think that's all for now. I'm convinced that there has to be a WiFi hotspot somewhere in this city - Laura is less sure. Oh, dear. Eh. Take care, my children.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1500932084299538958-943611643452761975?l=dorussians.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/feeds/943611643452761975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1500932084299538958&amp;postID=943611643452761975' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/943611643452761975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/943611643452761975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/2007/08/i-have-confidence.html' title='I Have Confidence...'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18365432566364088630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1500932084299538958.post-6936777081097387689</id><published>2007-08-27T19:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-27T20:09:24.465-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='travel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parents'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='packing'/><title type='text'>Leaving on a Jet Plane</title><content type='html'>No music this time, since my Zen's a little dumb and can't be trusted not to eat things...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm nearing the end of the whole packing/getting ready/spending large quantities of my parent's money thing. (Have you ever noticed how much stuff you suddenly need right before you go anywhere? It's insane.) One of my bags is going to be overweight, and that's just how it is. I can't check in online because United is evil and hates me personally. Oh, and Java's tried to eat pretty much everything I've tried to pack. Clearly, it's been a fun evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My first flight leaves Dallas at 2 PM tomorrow, and I should touch down in Moscow at 6 PM local time on Wednesday (9 AM for you Texas kids). Then, we'll be picked up and I should be in Voronezh by noon on Thursday. I'm really glad we all decided to get in early - I don't think anyone was planning on multiple days of travel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent most of morning running errands at Baylor. I'm beginning to think you guys want me gone - I'm leaving tomorrow, I swear. Erica got her birthday present, and I'm pretty sure she was quite pleased (and yes, there is a back, dear).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again thanks for the prayers (and if you want to send up a few for my poor parents, both of whom are getting rather teary-eyed, I don't think anyone would mind). Actually, there was a lady from St. Petersburg in my mom's Sunday School class, and I think talking to someone who knew the place really helped her. (I can only hope).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a good day, y'all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1500932084299538958-6936777081097387689?l=dorussians.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/feeds/6936777081097387689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1500932084299538958&amp;postID=6936777081097387689' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/6936777081097387689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/6936777081097387689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/2007/08/leaving-on-jet-plane.html' title='Leaving on a Jet Plane'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18365432566364088630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1500932084299538958.post-6330219035351390013</id><published>2007-08-26T16:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-26T16:20:30.239-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='packing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cowboy boots'/><title type='text'>...and then she spat out her tongue</title><content type='html'>start music: Blowin' in the Wind - Peter, Paul and Mary&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First off, I have wonderful friends. I &lt;3 y'all (even you, Ms. She's-Out-Of-My-Life). I really needed the fun last night - I've been within an inch of eating my hat or something from all the stress of getting ready and trying to get everything together (and other things...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take-off draws ever closer, and the ulcer in my stomach grows. I trust that everything's going to be alright, and I genuinely appreciate and cling to the prayers I know are being lifted for me, even now. At the same time, it's so hard to let go and cast your cares upon Him. I fight an eternal battle to cast off my burdens and leave them at the throne, but sometimes it seems like a hopeless struggle. But nothing is ever hopeless in Him, is it? I need to learn to keep that ever before me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, the Bourne Ultimatum was good, if a little nausea-inducing in places. Also, I finally bought boots. Cowboy boots, no less. They're warm and comfy and pretty, so all is well. (I really should've been a rodeo queen - sparkles and livestock - what's not to like?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y'know, I should probably start packing...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;End music: Beautiful One - By the Tree&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1500932084299538958-6330219035351390013?l=dorussians.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/feeds/6330219035351390013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1500932084299538958&amp;postID=6330219035351390013' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/6330219035351390013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/6330219035351390013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/2007/08/and-then-she-spat-out-her-tongue.html' title='...and then she spat out her tongue'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18365432566364088630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1500932084299538958.post-7882997646042606173</id><published>2007-08-24T08:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-24T09:00:17.933-07:00</updated><title type='text'>An Update</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So my visa's in (yay!). It's pretty and holographic and all that jazz, and most importantly, it gets me into the country (hooray!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also have my tickets (all SIX of them), despite general stupidity on the part on everyone involved who is not me. Now I just need to keep a good grip on the three return tickets all semester... this'll be fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so glad I've been able to see everyone before I leave (man, my tense is getting screwy here - you get the point.) A special shout-out to the Madera girls for very graciously re-directing (and sometimes man-handling) leads my direction last night, since "she's going to Russia - you better dance with her!" Thanks ladies - a girl couldn't ask for better friends. :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y'know, I should probably start packing and/or buy some shoes. I've finally convinced my mom that yes, I have enough clothing. Now she's worried that my footwear is inadequate. You can wear flip flops in the snow - frost bite is for wimps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laters!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1500932084299538958-7882997646042606173?l=dorussians.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/feeds/7882997646042606173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1500932084299538958&amp;postID=7882997646042606173' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/7882997646042606173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/7882997646042606173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/2007/08/update.html' title='An Update'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18365432566364088630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1500932084299538958.post-2490657162756198009</id><published>2007-08-20T19:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-20T19:43:36.112-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yay Russia!</title><content type='html'>So I feel a little bad leaving this blank, so here's some things to look at:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://http://www.vsu.ru/english/index.html"&gt;The university I'll be studying at &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://maps.google.com/maps?source=ig&amp;hl=en&amp;amp;q=voronezh&amp;um=1&amp;amp;sa=N&amp;tab=wl"&gt;The Google map of the area&lt;/a&gt; (Look! There's more to Russia than Moscow and Siberia!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.withlovefromvoronezh.com/"&gt;The local marriage agency&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My visa should be arriving tomorrow, so prayers that everything'll work out alright are greatly appreciated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until later,&lt;br /&gt;Cара&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1500932084299538958-2490657162756198009?l=dorussians.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/feeds/2490657162756198009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1500932084299538958&amp;postID=2490657162756198009' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/2490657162756198009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1500932084299538958/posts/default/2490657162756198009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dorussians.blogspot.com/2007/08/yay-russia.html' title='Yay Russia!'/><author><name>Sara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18365432566364088630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
