достопримечательности

I'm really excited for classes to start so I can have a set schedule. These first two weeks will just be orientation stuff, i.e. crash course review of Russian, learning our way around, and visiting lots of sights, aka достопримечательности (pronounced "dosta-pree-mah-chahst-el-nost-ee", one of the coolest Russian words, I must say). As promised, here are pictures of some достопримечательности. I also plan on using the word достопримечательности as many times as I can in this post. достопримечательности достопримечательности достопримечательности!

Anyways, here are some pictures of some достопримечательности:

But of course I wouldn't disappoint you by not having a picture of St. Basil's Cathedral on Red Square:















This is the girls of the group and our program director at a monastery. It's not such a touristy place and women have to wear skirts (or are provided wraps at the gate) and must cover their heads.














On Wednesday the weather was nice and sunny, so we went on a boat ride down the river, which also provided awesome views of the city. We bought blini -- like crepes, filled with anything from caviar to mushrooms and cheese -- and ate on the boat. (I'm on a boat I'm on a boat!)















And this is me trying to be artsy:
The prettyness in the background is St. Peter's Basilica. I took this picture on a bridge where newly married couples come to attach a lock and throw the key away in the river. Aww.















Tomorrow will be filled with more Russian and достопримечательности!

Well, do ya, punk?

I finished studying for the night and went to watch a little TV with my host mom. Last night we watched a show called "Let's get Married." It's hilarious; a man or woman who want to get married go on the show, and the hosts bring in other people to choose from. They go through a series of interviews, bring gifts to impress, and are interviewed by friends and family. It's basically like MTV, but less high-tech and cooler because it's in Russian and everything sounds funnier in Russian.
A Clint Eastwood movie was starting as I sat down to watch the "televisor" tonight. My host mom had never heard of Clint Eastwood, so I quickly explained that most of his films were Westerns with cowboys, and that he's usually the hero who saves the town and gets the girl. Whenever an epic shooting scene occurred she would gasp a little and shake her head.
Those crazy hooligan cowboys.

No smiling, please.

Success! I finally have internet at my apartment. I found a free network I can use if I sit in/near the hallway of my apartment and I’ll try to get a safer connection soon. I’ve only been without internet for a few days, but it seems like a lifetime. I’m addicted.
Right now I should be studying new words I’ve learned, but instead I’m writing to you lovely people. I justify this procrastination by saying that I don’t want to forget anything that’s happened thus far, and therefore I must write it all down now. So, a summary of the past few days:
Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker Suite was playing as I boarded my plane which would whisk me away to Mother Russia. I flew Aeroflot, a Russian airline, and since I was flying from Germany it was only about a two hour flight. Awesome. I arrived in Moscow around midnight but luckily I didn’t have to figure out the trains and metro right away – the program director and her husband picked me up and drove me home. Oh, and Moscow drivers? Craaaaazy!
I made it to my host mother’s apartment around two in the morning and she had some tea and little pastry type things ready for me, all of which were very delicious. My host mom is fairly old and has children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren. As I sipped my tea and desperately tried to remember my food vocab, she mentioned that she speaks a little German. Wunderbar! Ok so yes maybe this is cheating a little, but when we don’t understand each other and after playing charades gets old, she says “po-nemenski?” (In German?) and voila! Everything works out.
The apartment is almost exactly as I imagined it would be: small. I don’t want to say it’s not nice, because it is nice. It’s just not up to the typical modern American standards, which I admit surprised me a little and even made me wonder what I’d gotten myself into. These feelings went away after I had a good night’s sleep and more yummy pastries in the morning. Now as some of you know, I’m a little obsessed with my memory foam mattress pad. Four inches of super-soft bliss? I think yes. Sadly I could only bring my memory foam pillow (which I tried to translate as “special pillow”…didn’t quite work out). My bed here is also made of foam but on a scale of 1 – memoryfoambliss, I’d rate it a 3. Oh well, I’m in Russia. If I had to sleep on the floor, I would. And I would love it.
On Monday my host mom took me to the metro station near her apartment, about a 10 minute walk. I’d heard the stories and even seen the pictures, but if you haven’t seen the Moscow metro in person, you ain’t seen nothin. The escalators going down to the trains are INSANE. They go on seemingly forever at what I think are 45 degree angles. I felt like I was going to fall forward and take everyone with me. The stations are also very, very beautiful, with architecture like you’d find in a museum. There were also tons of people since the metro is the fastest and cheapest way to get around; you can find anyone from the lower to upper classes in the metro. It was all a little intimidating at first, but on Tuesday our program director taught us all about the metro: how to buy tickets, how to make transfers, how to ask for help, and how to respond when someone asks directions. I can now confidently go from my apartment, transfer to another line, and continue on to the station by the university.
I’ve been warned that it’s easy to spot an American in Moscow because they smile at everyone and expect a smile in return. Silly Americans. In Moscow, like any big city, there are too many people to spend all your time smiling. I’m a pretty smiley person, so I sometimes have to work at my game face. Most of all, I try to imitate what the Russians are doing. As the program director told us, Russians read on the metro, so we should read; if they don’t read they stare at you, so we should stare back.

More about the host mom situation: So far the only English word she’s said is “chicken.” Of course it’s awkward at times, but this really really really forces me to speak Russian, which is after all is what I’m here for. It’s only been a few days but I already feel way more comfortable that at first. Since I’m originally from Washington state, I brought her a book of scenic photographs of Washington and a little jar of Washington huckleberry jam (which, incidentally, I have no idea how to translate to Russian.) The gifts broke the ice a little. I also brought a photo album with pictures of me growing up, my family, and my friends. Having pictures and describing them made it a lot easier to hold an actual conversation, and she really liked seeing little bits from my life. After that she showed me her family pictures and we stood (a little awkwardly I admit) in her living room talking about her family, her dacha (summer house), and when she was a teacher. She also has a million books and I’ll ask her if I can read them in a few days.
I eat breakfast and dinner at home and the food is very yummy. I was scared that my host mom would say I’m too skinny and try to force feed me, but luckily if I say I’m full she doesn’t try to shove more potatoes down my throat. So far my favorite things she’s made are the little pastries (I need to find out what they’re called…) and this other really tasty thing (so I really need to review food vocab) which is spread on bread or slices of vegetables. I asked her what it was and thought she said caviar. Eating caviar freaks me out a little, but it was so good that I didn’t care. (Maybe not knowing what you’re eating is better anyway?) I ate it again the next day and asked what it’s called in German. Lo and behold, I was not eating caviar but cabbage. Whew. There is also a never ending supply of tea and coffee. Wunderbar!
I've been having problems using the keys to get into the apartment (she fo' reals needs some WD40 on those locks) and my host mom informed me that if I could learn how to open the door she would go to her dacha for a few days. This morning I think she said she was going to her dacha, so when I came home I was more than a little scared that I wouldn't be able to get in. Luckily I was smarter than the keys (after a few tries) and made it through the door. I'm not sure when she's coming back...or what I should make for dinner...but....as my host mom says, "Всё будет хорошо" - Everything will be OK.

Tomorrow we're being interviewed by professors from the university so they can see how much Russian we know. Scary.
Time to study! I'll try to post pictures next time.

From Russia with love (I will frequently reference movies, so get used to it),

Kara

You're going...where?

When people ask why in the world I want to go to Russia, I’m not really sure how to respond without sounding like a blathering idiot who makes big decisions such as going to Russia on a whim.

“Because I’m a Russian major…” is what I usually lead off with.

“But...why did you choose Russian? And what are you even going to do with your Russian?” most often comes next.

This is where it gets tricky.

How do I describe why I’m so drawn to Russia when I’m not really sure myself? Honestly (and this is where the blathering idiot part comes in), I think I chose Russian because it has such a unique, pretty alphabet. Look at it: Я люблю Россию. For all you know I could’ve just insulted your mother, but who cares when it looks so COOL?! …so it might not be the most intellectual, awe-inspiring answer to the question, but I’m pretty sure the Cyrillic alphabet is what first drew me to Russian. I also became obsessed with Russian when I saw The Hunt For Red October – the song that plays during the credits makes me want to cry. In a good way.

Well that’s all fine and dandy, but why do I actually want to go to Russia, to that far away, freezing land with danger, corruption, and communists lurking around every corner? Because, silly, those are called stereotypes and I’m not scared of them. Besides, I like the cold. In all seriousness, Russia intrigues me; the history, the people, the food, everything. Russia seems to be a country most people have their minds made up about. They see the actions Russia’s leaders take and then revert back to the days of building bomb shelters and acting like McCarthy. I want to make up my own mind. I want to understand why, not just see what.

After trying to explain why I chose Russian and why I’m going to Russia, the question of what I’m going to do with what I learn still looms in the air. The short answer is work for the government, which yields the “What, like…become a spy?” response. I’ll just leave it at that. After all, if I told you more…I’d have to kill you.

So, there it is: the most solid response I’ve ever given in response to why Russia. While in Russia, I’ll try my best to come up with a better answer as well as keep this blog updated fairly frequently. No promises, though.

I’m eighteen days away from getting on that plane. Eighteen days. Years of waiting have dwindled down to eighteen little days.

Bring it on.