I'm famous.

interrobang

And can you imagine?

I am supposed to be writing an essay as part of a take home test for our Russian culture class. Neither my clothing choice (a flannel on an 80 degree day) nor my mental state (four hours of sleep on the overnight train from moscow) are well suited to this task. Instead I will tell you a story that was told to me while I was here in Russia. Since I have no camera, this is a story that doesn't require one. En plus, il me semble que j'ai quelques lecteurs francaises, qui aiment les commérages sur ma famille d'accueil plutôt que mes efforts plus academiques. Oh and by the way, Na-miss mo ba ako? Kasi miss kita. Miss kita talaga. And the obligatory: Я так рад что не кто не поймут мне потому что, я ничего не могу интересно сказать по-русский.

This story starts with the fact that in Russia, or at least at my homestay, vegetables are a rarity. In fact, for reference here is a sample weekly menu:

Monday: Buckwheat soup "с мясом". Literally "with meat". When I say literally I don't just mean the translation is literal. I actually mean that any word more specific than simply meat would be untruthful. Dessert is black bread and butter with a cup of tea.

Tuesday: Pasta with sausisski (sausage, obviously). The pasta is prepared in the standard way. First the speghetti noodles are boiled in water. After that they are drained and allowed to stand in the collander for just enough time to cool to room temperature. Naturally, this is so that they can be fried on a skillet with a generous helping of butter. This complex method ensures that the ends of the spagetti are properly browned and crispy. The sausisski are actually two hot dogs, fried alongside the pasta. The uncut hot dogs are presented together with the pasta on the plate with a garnish of ketchup.

Wednesday: Pork fat soup...I think. Danny's favorite. An anecdote about this soup, we actually had it twice one week. The second night, Lena asked me (I'm the responsible one) if I would be able to heat it up for dinner because she would be out at a friend's. I didn't think I could mess it up, until I took the pot off the counter and put it on the stove. The soup had actually congealed completely. Like, into a solid. At room temperature. I melted and served.

Thursday: Pelmeny! These frozen meat dumplings aren't bad. I even put the sour cream on top like a real russian.

Friday: Chicken nugget-ish things, mushrooms, rice, side salad. Nastia, who this story is (was supposed to be, will be?) about, is home on Fridays. I think she is the health-conscious one of the family. This means we get mushy chicken nuggets (which I realized last week are either partly or entirely made of tuna). The rice base is garnished with mushrooms. I know that mushrooms aren't vegetables, but I was still excited. Oh what's that? You made sure to pickle them first? Thank you. THE SIDE SALAD!!!! VEGETABLES!!! Ok, so maybe it is just cucumbers, celerey, tomatos and dill with vegetable oil and salt. But hey, I can't complain (except online).

Anyways...the purpose of all that was just to make the case that I don't get vegetables on a regular basis here. I am no vegetablephile. I don't normally go seeking out my own personal supply of vegetables. But after a month of this routine, I went to the local grocery store before lunch. After my eyes acclimated to the sight of non-earth-colored foods I tried to make a decision. The produce section mainly contained the contents of my Friday-night side salad, so I worked my way over to the frozen food tub. Leaning against the unpackaged frozen fish, I saw a bag that suggested it's contents included peas, corn, red pepper, broccoli and rice. Perfect. Clutching my treasure suspiciously, I made it back to the apartment.

Nobody was home. It was the perfect opportunity to enjoy my vegetables in peace. When at last I had a heap of vegetables in front of me, a fork to my mouth and a smile on my face, Nastia came into the kitchen and plopped down across the table. I knew I should have checked the living room. Red-faced, Nastia flashed me a pitiful look, put her head in her hands, gave a few unconvincing sobs, and then looked up again.

"I don't know what to do!" She said.

"Hmmoooh." The vegetables were burning my mouth.

"You must understand...I have a a psychology exam in two days, and when I take it, I must decide the course of my life!" Her speech was, as usual, in a British/Russian accent and topped with a sour cream sized dollop of melodrama.

"Oh no," I said, my body reeling from the introduction of plant matter, "What decision do you have to make?"

"When I take my exam, I must choose whether my specialty will be in Developmental Psychology, Psychological Consulting, or Therapeutic Psychology." She paused for emphasis. "And can you imagine?"

"Well, I'm sure you will be happy no matter what you choose." Translation: I'm sure those three things are identical no matter what you say. "In two months you will hardly remember why this was such a big decision." As a side note, Nastia's two favorite English phrases are "you must understand," and "can you imagine." She uses them to both introduce thoughts and end them, as well as as exclamations.

"You must understand, in matters of the heart, matters of love, I am very skilled." She touched her heart with her hand. "It is in these, how do I say in English...pragmatical matters in which I cannot make decisions. Can you imagine how difficult this is for me? For instance, with the choice to get married, this is no problem for me. With my fiance..."

"Hold on!?" (for more information about this use of punctuation and it's innefficiency click here) Nastia is 22 and I know she has a boyfriend. "You were married!?"

"No," she chuckled. "I am not married."

"But you had a fiance"

"Yes"

"So you broke it off?"

"Yes"

I realized at this point what Nastia wanted. She was not upset. She was bored of studying and I was the only other person in the house. When she realized that I had absolutely no interest in consoling her, she baited with gossip. I took.

"So what happened?"

"His name was Alyosha." she began. "We met at the Jazz club where I worked. He gave me his buisness card. You must understand, he was a very important lawyer. One of the richest men in St. Petersburg." With Nastia, everyone she knows is one of the richest people in St. Petersburg. The especially rich ones are all in love with her. "But can you imagine, I was so young and he was so old. I told him my mother wouldn't allow it. I lied, you must understand."

"Oh...how old were you?"

"Eighteen."

"And how old was he?"

"Forty-two."

"Oh?" I had the sudden thought that my vegetables were getting cold.

"But he was, how can I say. Ah, I forget my english....déterminé." She gave the word in French.

"Determined?" I offered (good thing I practiced my French last semester.)

"Yes, and so he called my mother, can you imagine, and asked her if she would allow us to go out together. She consented of course."

"Of course."

"And so we had our first date. He choose a method which I think is one of the best for starting love in a relationship. He took me skiing, first time in my life. You must understand, when you teach someone in this way, you must touch them and guide them." She reached out to my arm in mid-bite to demonstrate. "This is very good for starting a relationship."

"Uhh. I'm sure." Note to self: never go skiing with Nastia.

"We went out, to date, together for only two weeks. And he invited me to his house for the first time, outside of St. Petersburg. He is a very rich man, but can you imagine, such a beautiful house."

"Wow, that sounds great. Did you have fun?"

"Well, you must imagine (hybrid) I was very nervous. You see, he was much older than me, and I was still using the formal address with him, while he used the informal address with me." This is referring to vui and tui, the two forms of the word you in Russian.

"That's interesting." Translation: That's weird.

"But his house was so wonderful. You know I am not this type of girl, but this night we knew each other. He was my first love, and you must understand...."

Let's back up. It took me awhile to realize...at first I passed it off as just bad English. But no, this girl had actually used the verb to know in the biblical sense in all seriousness. Wow.

"...two months later we travelled to Cairo together, and we were engaged to marry."

"Woah." Translation: Woah

"But, you often learn things about a person when you travel together. I found his true character on this trip. Maybe it would have been best if I would end it after we returned."

"I see, and when did you end it?" I forgot about my vegetables.

"Two years later."

At this point, Nastia told me that she was very busy and needed to study for her exam. I didn't mention that it wasn't my fault we were talking about her 42 year old fiance, and apologized for keeping her.

With this wild story, and Nastia's nonchalant delivery fresh in my memory I finally got to my then cold vegetables.

Can you imagine?

Proof of Productivity

Since I have found out that my readership is not actually the college age crowd I imagined, but rather a collection of my mom's friends and relatives, (I have still yet to figure out how this happened)I have decided to redeem my previous posts with proof that I do something more in Russia than complain about the food and drink the vodka. Here is my midterm paper for our Russian culture class in which a chemistry major pretends to be an art major. I apologize for spelling and grammar mistakes both to you and my professor.

Side note to all readers: I encourage you to comment on this or any post. I actually have no idea who is reading.



Aaron Small
July 10th 2009

The Lake: Russia

The second half of the 19th century in Russia was a time of increasing revolutionary spirit, both politically as well as in the art world. Tzar Alexander II emancipated the serfs in 1861 and dealt a powerful blow to the aristocracy’s grip on power. At the same time divisive questions were being asked about Russia’s future. Did it lie with Westernization or a return to Slavic traditions? How would the disparate Russian people be united with a single sense of national purpose? Toward the end of the century the country found itself between two ideals of Russian nationality. On one side Narodism advocated the ability of the common people to lead and unify Russia, while Alexander II was championing a top down vision through the motto of orthodoxy, autocracy and nationality. It was amid this climate that Isaak Levitan lived and painted, and it was exactly at the start of the new century in which his death brought the unfinished work, The Lake: Russia, to its final form. Considered the crowning achievement of the unrivaled talent of Russian landscape painting, Levitan’s work is deeply reflective of the political, social and artistic climate of the time. In the midst of a burgeoning and revolutionary art movement, his painting, The Lake, depicts an idyllic form of Russian nationalism. His idea of what unified the Russian people was more inclusive than what was being advocated by the artistic and political movements of the era and therefore set Levitan, and his work, apart as unique in their time.

A full understanding of The Lake: Russia requires a description of the author’s life and how it fit into the Realist artistic movement. Isaak Levitan was born in 1860 to a poor Jewish family in a shtetl in Lithuania. At the age of thirteen he started his studies at the Moscow School of Painting, Sculpture and Architecture, where he immediately showed considerable promise. In 1875 Levitan’s mother died, and upon the loss of his father four years later he was given a scholarship in recognition of his achievements that allowed him to continue his education. He was taught by the famous realist and landscape painters Alexei Savrasov, Vasily Perov and Vasily Polenov. The mark of Savrasov’s influence in particular would later become obvious in Levitan’s work. Following an assassination attempt on the Tzar Alexander II, Jews, including Levitan, were deported from Moscow into the surrounding suburbs. However, pressure from the art community brought him back to the city.

Levitan’s work is best understood in relation to the revolutionary Russian artistic group known as The Wanderers. All three of his aforementioned teachers, as well as Levitan himself were members of this society. Formed in 1870, the groundwork for such a group was laid when, in 1863, a group of fourteen students seceded from the Royal Academy of Fine Arts in St. Petersburg in protest of the annual contest of works. They cited a lack of artistic freedom, but this secession was more than just liberation from the constraints of the Imperial Academy. They were also heavily influenced by the views of Nikolai Chernyshevsky, the founder of Russian populism known as Narodism. He supported the overthrow of autocracy and the creation of a state based on the structure of the idealized peasant commune. Although the Wanderers were not specifically political revolutionaries, they embodied Chernyshevsky’s ideals through the creation of a traveling art exhibition designed to bring art to the people of Russia. The comment by the liberal paper Cause on the first Wanderer exhibition that, “the traveling exhibit is the first step made for the liberation of artists from the serf-like dependence on the academy,” captures the interrelatedness of the political and artistic movements. Over the course of the next fifty years the society organized exhibits in cities all over Russia.

As Realists, The Wanderers depicted everyday Russian subjects. They showed both the poverty and struggle of Russian peasants, but at the same time emphasized the beauty, simplicity and purity of this way of life. Their art criticized the autocracy and worked to contrast urban and rural living. Landscape painting fit in well with this national preoccupation and Levitan as well as his influences and contemporaries Savrasov and Polenov were creating an idyllic and extremely Russian view of the land. Their paintings at the time, such as Savrasov’s The Rooks Have Come Back in 1871, contain plein air views of rural Russia, anchored by cultural themes such as churches and quiet villages. The absence of human subjects in some ways represents a break from The Wanderers in general. While the Wanders specifically established a dichotomy between country and city life, scenic portrayal of the land created a vision of Russia in which the rural and urban spheres share a common bond.

Levitan first participated in a traveling art exhibition with The Wanderers in 1884, but was not initially appreciated within the group. It was not until eight years later in 1891 when he was invited to formally join the society. Levitan, uncommonly for Russian artists, was well traveled. He especially spent time in France where he grew fond of the Barbizon School. He was familiar with Impressionism and it is clear that he occasionally experimented with the style, though he never totally renounced traditional modes and often switched between the two. Despite the fact that his painting was never truly impressionistic, his work laid the foundation for Russian Impressionism. More so than his contemporaries, Levitan rarely painted human figures, but included human references in the form of villages, farms and churches. These references are often overshadowed by the expanse and grandeur of the natural world. Levitan was able to use a very realistic portrayal of the land to express something deeply profound and mystical. This ability put him in a somewhat unique position, between Realism and Mysticism. His paintings, which in the 1870s portrayed a somber Russian countryside, by the 1880s were filled with bright color and picturesque composition. As such his paintings were almost universally appealing. In particular the Russian audience, urban and rural alike, could appreciate the familiarity of the scenes. Levitan painted up until his death in 1900. His final painting and crowning achievement, The Lake: Russia, remained unfinished at his death. Despite Levitan's increasing illness the canvas is remarkably bright and hopeful. In the years after Levitan's death when Realism was belittled by the rising trend of Modernism, Levitan remained as one of the few respected artists of his movement, a testament to his talent.

The story of Levitan's life and career culminates in the The Lake: Russia. The first impression of the painting is one of bright color, expansive space, and picturesque beauty. In fact, the beauty is such that the scene has an unreal quality to it. Indeed, the landscape did not exist in reality, but is a composite of several scenes that Levitan had previously sketched in the Russian countryside. Savrosov and Polenov's influences are extremely visible in the sheer volume of space. The uneven surface of the lake in the foreground extends immediately before us with reeds growing on the side in the foreground. The brush stroke here is loose, giving a muted impressionistic feel. Beyond the lake there is a thin grassy strip of land. Here we find Levitan's characteristic reminder of the human element. The village is calm and pastoral, with a small field in the foreground and a typical white Orthodox church among the houses. Typical of Levitan no human beings are to be found. There is a sense of awe and the religious in the painting, but it does not originate from the church. The dark shadow that seems poised to engulf the small village directs our gaze upwards. There, the horizon gives way to a blue sky, in almost perfect symmetry with the lake. This symmetry and reflection of heaven in earth is not unique to this painting, and is a technique that he used in earlier paintings such as Autumn Day, Sokolniki in 1879 and The Vladimirka in 1892. The light blue sky above the village is dotted with massive clouds. Their white forms are almost geometric and have a very physical presence, as if hanging heavy in the sky. The clouds dominate the painting, in obvious contrast to the insignificance of the village. And yet there is not antagonism between the two. They are both a part of the idyllic landscape, but at the same time Levitan forces us to accept the insignificance of the village and by extension all of humanity in the face of the unsurpassable beauty of nature. Even this obvious message seems to fall short of what Levitan wished to express. In a letter to his friend, the famous writer Anton Chekhov, Levitan wrote: “Can anything be more tragic than to feel the infinite beauty of your surroundings, to read nature's innermost secrets and, conscious of your own helplessness, to be incapable of expressing these powerful emotions?” Nonetheless, the completeness of the landscape is extraordinarily beautiful, inviting and even familiar to the viewer despite it's fictitiousness. It is a romantic and lyrical portrayal of what Levitan saw as the summation of everything that is Russia.

Despite it's peaceful setting, this painting contains a message that was extremely relevant and even pioneering in the context in which it was painted. At the end of the nineteenth century when the Russian empire spanned an entire continent and encompassed dozens of ethnicities and religions the struggle to identify what made everyone a “Russian” was extremely pressing. Even where ethnic homogeneity did exist, the recent emancipation of the serfs had exposed the deep socioeconomic differences between the city and the country and the land owners and the peasants. Realism, and by extension the late nineteenth century art society The Wanders answered these questions by showing all of Russia a portrayal of the Russian peasant. The idea of the purity of country landscapes and peasant life dominated in their paintings. The nationalism that was suggested by this portrayal was one of the common man. And yet, the view they take is inherently that of rich urban onlookers, of which they almost exclusively were. The problem contained in this brand of national unity is that the elevating of a particular part of the population is inherently divisive. Levitan's landscapes and the messages contained in them linked him strongly with these ideas, but subtle differences in his paintings set him apart from the popular movement. Levitan eschews the elevation of the peasant class. The Lake: Russia, contains a reminder of their existence, but simply as a part of the landscape. Levitan's view of the countryside is unique in that it is not a view of the peasants through the eyes of urbanites. Rather, it is a view of the countryside through the eyes of the peasants, or perhaps through the eyes of the nameless Russian. By doing this, Levitan is able to achieve a uniquely inclusive vision of what unifies the Russian people. It is exactly by avoiding any portrayal of culture or specific human characteristics that Levitan's paintings can appeal to all Russians. In The Lake, the vague familiarity of the scene allows Russians from disparate ends of the Empire to feel a sense of shared national identity. The painter even hesitated to add the word Russia to the title, suggesting perhaps his attempt to capture something that went beyond the borders of the empire. He eventually settled on the word русь (rus) in Russian, which actually refers back to the people, region and state between the 9th to 12th centuries from which the Russian Empire of Levitan's day was born. The ancient word choice gives the title a powerful but vague sentiment that is more fitting with the landscape.

This careful portrayal makes perfect sense given the artist's background. As a Lithuanian Jew, whose native land was occupied by the Tzar, and who was once deported from his home in Moscow, his view of that which was (and is) quintessentially Russian could not possibly lie with Alexander II's motto of orthodoxy, autocracy and nationality. Nor could it lie with the peasants, a people who were unfamiliar to his educated and distant background. In his final painting Levitan captured that undefinable quality that united the Russian people. The awe inspiring, religious, peaceful and eternal connection to the land and it's incomprehensible beauty in The Lake: Russia reconciled Levitan's relationship with Russia through it's universality.

Issak Levitan occupies an exclusive place among Russian realist painters. His technical mastery and artistic vision set him apart from his peers as the master of Russian landscape painting. Among his works, The Lake represents the pinnacle of his artistic achievement. However, beyond or perhaps through it's beauty Levitan was able to achieve a unique parsing of the political issues of the time. Although strongly influenced by his contemporaries and their Narodist ideals, Levitan made a subtle distinction in his portrayal of the Russian national spirit. By filling his paintings with a special sense of non-exclusive unity Levitan was able to achieve what his peers where not: an internally consistent and tenable idea of Russian nationality. Although the Empire eventually ended in revolution, and Levitan's view of Russian unity was forgone for more populist or ethnically based versions, the universal feeling it describes is explains why the painting and the artist still remain as favorites in the eyes of the Russian people.

Week in Review

This past week has been busy. Our Russian teachers are trying their hardest to fit two semesters of material into seven weeks, and I although on paper I am getting way better at Russian, the cashier at the local grocery store who just points to the amount on the register says otherwise. Besides language classes we have special excursions into the city, such as our Crime and Punishment walk this Monday, where we traced Raskolnikov's steps through the city on the day of the murder. Normally once a week we have a two and a half hour (standing) lecture in the Russian Museum. This week we had two. The Russian culture class, speeds along at a rate of a novel or so a week, and when you factor in eating and sleeping, it seems like I barely get a break to see the sights.

What I have seen so far is mostly up on Facebook as I'm sure most of you have seen (or if you're my parents, are rushing to see right now), but I thought I would repost a few of the pictures here, and some that aren't available on Facebook with a little better explanation of what was going on.







These are a few pictures from our trip to Pavlovsk. It's about a thirty minute train ride out of St. Petersburg and is the grounds of a royal palace that is now a public park. It's a nice place to walk around on a sunny day, but although the weather looks beautiful, it turned into a downpour about an hour after these photos were taken. Such is Russian weather. You can see the Russian couple getting their picture taken after their wedding. At first I thought that millions of people got married every day in St. Petersburg. The actual case is that when you get married, you go around with the wedding party to every single sight in and around the city and have your picture taken at each one, usually in a white stretch hummer.



This photo is of our group dinner that we ate at a Georgian restaurant. Apparently even Lynne (our program director who is talking to me in the picture) admits that Russian cuisine is nothing to write home about. In this picture she is explaining to me that there exists a Russian TV sitcom (which I have since seen with my own eyes) called "Счастливы Bместе"(Happy Together) which is an authorized copy of the American sitcom "Married with Children". They litterally take the script and translate it into Russian and then re-shoot it with Russian characters. The main character Masha, actually looks a bit like a Russian Al Bundy. I tried to find an episode with English subtitles...maybe you can if you search youtube, but it is exactly the same script.







Apparently it's one of the top rated shows in Russia.



Here is the group on a tour of the Yusupov palace, where Rasputin was famously murdered. They took us down to the room where he was fed cyanide, then shot, and then upon his waking and staggering up the stairs, shot three more times and then thrown into the the Neva. Our tour guide only spoke Russian and so Lynne did the translating. The language barrier did very little to conceal her hatred of American students. In this photo she can be seen glaring at Danny's New York Yankees shirt.





These photos are from a venue called Bubble Bar near the center of the city. We went because a Russian friend told us there would be a really good jazz band playing there. Instead, there was a pretty good Russian rock band who opened with Billie Jean in honor of Michael Jackson. I would probably say they were really good, but the audience mostly consisted of Russian teenage girls who sang along to all the words.





After Bubble Bar, our Russian friend Vitaly (black tank top) took us to the local Coffee House (the biggest chain cafe in St. Petersburg) where he "knew the owner", so that we could drink vodka, which he bought from the supermarket, as long as we drank it out of offical Coffee House cups. This is essentially like going into a crowded McDonalds in New York City with 20 people, not buying anything, and boisterously drinking. This did not bother any of the Russian patrons (maybe it was the cups?).






We ended our night at a club across the street from the Coffee House, where the bouncer's job seemed to be to keep people out who were wearing white shoes. There was a naked golden angel on the wall. All in all it wasn't too exciting.

We hailed a chasniki, which is just a random person willing to drive you home for way less than the taxis, (Dear Kelly: there were four of us, and this is extremely common practice in St. Petersburg.), and watched the sun rise at 3:45am on our ride home.

Алые паруса

I don't feel like writing, but want to express what happened this weekend. The following is carelessly stolen from Gabriella (the photographer) and supported by wikipedia and youtube. Times are approximate.


The Scarlet Sails (Russian: Алые паруса) celebration in St. Petersburg, Russia is the most massive and famous public event during the White Nights Festival. The tradition is highly popular for spectacular fireworks, numerous music concerts, and a massive water-show including battle among tens of boats full of pirates on the waters of Neva river. The Scarlet Sails show celebrating the end of school year 2007 was attended by more than one million people.

This tradition began here after the end of WWII, when several Leningrad schools united to celebrate the ending of a school year in connection with symbolism of the popular children's book "Scarlet sails" by Alexander Grin. At the first celebration a boat with scarlet sails was sailing along the English Embankment and the Admiralty Embankment towards the Winter Palace. Although it was designed to update the rusty revolutionary propaganda, the "Scarlet Sails" tradition eventually evolved into a massive demonstration of freedom from "schools and rules" and became the most popular public event ever since, celebrating the ending of school year annually.

Crowds of about one million people are treated to a wide variety of free entertainment provided by the city of St. Petersburg.Entertainment also includes appearances by popular rock stars, as well as St. Petersburg Symphony Orchestra, ballet, and other classical acts, performing on several stages simultaneously during the days of he event. The show also includes a series of large-scale events on the waters of Neva river, such as rowing and motorboat races, and a massive battle with pirates culminating with appearance of a tall ship sporting spectacular "Scarlet sails." The show has been always the essential part of the White Nights celebration.

The popularity of both the book and the tradition was boosted after the 1961 release of the movie titled "Alye parusa" ("Scarlet sails" in English).

10:00pm


10:15pm


11:00pm



11:00pm


11:15pm


11:15pm


11:15pm


11:45pm


2:00am



Last year's fireworks

The Towel Incident

The host family is a strange beast. Occupying the awkward space between bed and breakfast and mom and dad life in a homestay is, to say the very least, never boring. To say the very most, I'll begin with the following:

My homestay mom and dad are named Lena and Andrei. They have a daughter, about my age, named Nastya. The Trofimovich family lives in a three-room, sixth-floor apartment in an upscale neighboorhood near the center of Saint Petersburg. In fact, compared to the soviet-style apartments that line the outskirts of the city, it is probably one of the more desireble dwellings in the area. To give some background, I am not the only study abroad student staying in this particular homestay. A friend from class, Danny Sugar, is my fellow american-in-crime.


Danny eating breakfast in the kitchen (note the lack of сырок, we finally told our host family our true feelings):


We met Lena downstairs. As she helped us into the tiny elevator with our bags, she chattered away in extremely confident English. Her manner was friendly and energetic, and her Farrah Fawcett hairdo and fading windbreaker with matching pants made her appear simultaneously familiar and oddly foreign, a bit like a failed Russian attempt at americana. I later found out that there is a very distinct "around the house" dress which does not resemble actual Russian fashion (more on Russian fashion later). As we entered the apartment for the first time, we quickly removed our shoes without being asked. We had been warned ahead of time of this practice, although probably could have guessed based on the array of shoes just inside the door. I looked up to see Nastya giving a timid "hello", despite the fact that we later found her to speak flawless English. Andrei appeared soon after from the living room followed by the fat orange cat Nika. I will give a better biography of Nastya and Andrei later.

Shoes:


Nika:



It was time to choose rooms. It seemed Danny and I had our choice between the master bedroom and Nastya's room. As we flipped a 5 ruble coin, Lena told us that Andrei would be sleeping on the couch in the living room and that she and Nastya would staying out of the house as often as possible (although it is still unclear exactly where). I had been there five minutes, and already felt like I was intruding. After we placed our bags in our respective rooms, Danny's in the master and mine in Nastya's, we moved past the bathtub and seperate toilet to the kitchen for tea.

My room!:



After tea there was an explanation of the general workings of the house. The faucets were turned on like this, the bathroom lights worked like this, the soap could be left here but not there, the first lock on the door had to be locked with a turn to the right only when no one was home but the second was locked regardless with a turn to the left and breakfast would be at 8:45. Hmm. I tried hard to commit this all to memory in the hope that I would appear unclumsy and perhaps impress my hosts with what a quick learner I was. This was not to be. The first slip up came the next morning, following my sitting shower. Nastya came to tell me that after showers we were required to mop up any leftover water with the sponge by the sink. With typical Russian frankness she concluded: "This is for the benefit of us all, so that we can all live comfortably together, understand?" I thought I understood.

Our bathtub with shower nozzel:


The following morning, my confused circadian rhythm woke me early, although it's hard to know precisely when because the sun only sets for a few hours around 1am. I decided to try my luck with the new bath/shower technique. I took extra care (and extra time) to make sure the tub looked better than when I found it. I was brushing my teeth at the sink with the towel around my waist when I heard a knock at the door. It was Andrei, looking flustered. I let him use the bathroom. After he got out he brought me into the bathroom to, as he said in Russian, explain something to me. That is about where my comprehension cut out, but judging by the pointing and the intonation, I had done something wrong with the bathtub, towels, and possibly the sink. He also informed me that I was not to use the bathroom until after 8:40, as he needed it before work. Despite not understanding what was expected of me, I decided I would do better next time. As it turned out, I never got my chance for redemption.

When Lena returned that evening, she brought me into the bathroom. In English she asked me if I had my own towel. I told her no, and when she asked which towel I had used I pointed to the beach towel bearing an image of a beautiful sunset and the word "Hawaii" across the bottom. I had grabbed this towel off the top of a stack of four or five towels that morning, not giving it a second thought. Lena sighed, "This is Andrei's towel, and Danny has used my towel." Embarassed I immediately apologized.

"I'm so sorry," I said. "I can go get a new towel right away, I didn't realize."

"It is not sorry. (this phrase, which she kept repeating, I believe meant: "don't be sorry") It is just...never in my life, have I seen this. First time in my life." Her face expressed the incredulity that she was obviously feeling.

"I'm very sorry," I repeated. Feeling my own brand of incredulity, but trying to imagine how I could make ammends. "I will not use these towels again."

"No, not sorry. This is too late now. You shall use these towels until I wash them." She spoke with an accent that showed she had been taught British English. She sighed again and shook her head while repeating, "never in my life." I was too guilty to laugh.

"Ok, well I can go buy a new towel right away. That would be no problem," I said, speaking honestly, but also trying to get her to stop saying, "never in my life."

"This is your choice. Right now you will use these towels until I wash them." I didn't see the conversation going anywhere so I apologized again and said goodnight. Sensing my embarrassment she added, "I am not mad, you must understand, if I am mad I would never let you know it." This wasn't comforting. She chuckled and shook her head, again bidding me goodnight with, "you must understand. First time in my life."

I was a bit upset. I really liked my host family, and I wanted to live as peacefully and unintrusively with them as possible, and I felt that despite my best efforts I was failing. Yet at the same time, or perhaps because of this, I felt a sense of injustice.

While I lay in bed, trying to fall asleep my head swirled with all the things I had experienced since arriving in Russia:

сырок
.
.
.
a shower with no curtain
.
.
.
a homemade bed
.
.
.
the litterbox next to the toilet
.
.
.
sour cream on everything
.
.
.
tea as the only form of hydration
.
.
.
20 hours of daylight and no full curtain
.
.
.
people drinking 20 ounce beer cans on the way to work
.
.
.
Suddenly a thought came to me.
.
.
.
"First time in my life."

Gherey Pohteer and Cheburashka

Found in Dom Knigi (the book house):




Cheburashka: