Part I: Saturday: Suzdal
Today (Saturday) our group (teachers, staff and one former teacher) took an excursion to the nearby town of Suzdal. Suzdal is a very small and very old Russian town. It, like Vladimir, was once the capital of the ancient Russian state, and according to Lonely Planet, the first record of the town of Suzdal dates back to 1024. The town is full of churches, most of which are very, very old. It is unfortunate that I am not religious, as I would probably view them in an entirely different light. As it is, I am finding myself rather obsessed with photographing onion domes. I utterly adore the architecture of Russian Orthodox cathedrals, and to me all other historic churches and cathedrals pale in comparison.
We spent all day in Suzdal. We had absolutely perfect weather all day long, although as we were leaving it began to get cloudy, and they probably had one hell of a rain after we left. Today was the Suzdal City Day 2005, so there was a huge festival going on. Tourists (both local and from out of town) were everywhere. It was very strange to me, as the last time I was there (granted, this was back in 1999), there was hardly a soul in the town other than my group. I took an incredible amount of pictures (far too many shots were of onion domes), and am really, really happy that my digital camera is working. I have found that the best way to take fantastic pictures is to take as many as possible. That essentially improves your chances at snapping something great. I am sure any true photographers out there will simply laugh at this, but it works for me. I took 45 pictures in Suzdal, and four are absolutely incredible. I may go ahead and post a couple Vladimir and Suzdal images on this site (just a few) at some point when I have time to upload them all. Like I have said before, our internet connection is really slow.
Part II: My new home
I live in an apartment with a host mother named Nina M. She is (I think) in her upper sixties, although she may be older, and is a grandmother. The Russian term babushka (translated as grandmother) definitely applies to her. (There is a stereotypical babushka image, and she fits it to a T) Anyhow, she is very nice, and likes to make lots and lots of food. I usually tend to eat very little, but I feel horrible about not eating something she has taken the trouble to prepare. If only the portions were smaller! As it is, I think I am going to gain a ton of weight trying not to offend. The apartment is larger than that of my last host mother (from my 2000 trip) and we each have our own bedroom. My room overlooks a very busy Vladimir street. Nina M seems worried that I will have trouble sleeping because of the noise, but those of you who know me know that I could probably sleep through a war or an alien invasion. Plus, after living under the flight line of the San Diego airport for the past two years, I am essentially immune to noise.
I must say that the shower leaves much to be desired in terms of water pressure. Usually I miss Triscuits the most when I am overseas; I think this time I will be craving a strong shower. Unfortunately, Nina M does not have a cat, or any other pets, which is somewhat disappointing. She loves cats, and used to have one, but it died after a long life and made her very sad (that is essentially a direct translation). She is contemplating getting another kitty, but has not decided. Obviously, I am trying to encourage this! (I also told her about how my mom has ten cats. She did not react in shock, the way most people do. So I said it again. Apparently, she had assumed that I misspoke. No one has ten cats! I have also shown her pictures of my cat and of my mom’s cats. She really thinks that the long haired and fuzzy orange cat is the most adorable of the bunch.) I have found that my Russian language skills are not nearly as horrific as I had assumed. I comprehend nearly everything (especially when I know the context), although I still have a very difficult time replying. Additionally, despite having been away for five years, I am still very comfortable with life in Russia. I know that several of my coworkers have commented on how different things are here, and yet to me it all seems normal.
Part III: Sunday: Frisbee
I went to bed at 9:00 last night. After the long day, I was feeling utterly exhausted. I slept until almost 11:00 this morning! I had kind of expected to wake up at 6am or something. Most of the other American teachers and I had agreed to meet up at the American Home (AH) at 2pm, so everything worked out well time wise. I actually made it downtown early enough to do a little bit of walking about. I took some photographs of the Golden Gates and the nearby former Trinity Church (now home to the blown glass and crystal museum) from atop the remainder of the ancient ramparts of the city, as well as a few shots from along Bolshaya Moskovskaya, the main street of the town. I also took a couple of pictures of the AH, which I will post for you when I have time.
By that point it was time to meet up with the group. All of the Americans except Y. and Male B. came. The day was wonderful, yet again, with perfect temperatures and not a cloud in the sky. (Of course, some of the others are from much cooler climates, like B. who is from Alaska, and they seem to think it is hot here. However, after having spent the last month melting in the nearly unbearable heat and humidity of FL and GA, this seems like paradise. Although I am guessing that B. will adapt to the winter better than I will!) B. brought a frisbee, and J brought a football... Now, for those of you who do not know me personally, let me just tell you that I am not athletically inclined in the least. I enjoy walking and hiking, and that is essentially the extent of my sporting activities. It is somewhat unfortunate that at the bulk of the group is a lot more into sports than I am. I don’t mind sitting and watching people play (we were all talking, so I did not feel excluded or anything), although I felt like I was being a bit anti-social. But we did have fun. We walked down to the stadium (which was not open for public use, but which had a nice, open, empty field for general use right next door), and I watched while the others played football and frisbee. I also took some funny action shots. I have not gotten used to the sports setting (for taking pictures of fast moving people and things) yet, so the pictures are not the greatest, but still amusing nonetheless.
After playing (or watching!) for a few hours, we walked back to the AH, where we tried to check email, but alas, the internet was not working. I think the hardest part about being over here (as it is when I do any traveling) is not being able to have access to the internet at all times of the day. I feel like I am going through internet detox, although perhaps that is a good thing. We ended up sitting around and discussing various things, mainly the AH, teaching, students, etc for several hours. I returned home around 7pm. Nina M is not home, although this morning she told me that if she wasn’t here when I returned that there would be food on the stove, ready for me to heat up. I have not yet checked, although I am sure it is there. (The babushki love to feed us!) I am actually rather frightened of this ancient gas stove. Granted, I had to light the stove via matches at my last Russian apartment, but that was five years ago, and to the best of my recollection, I was always worried that I would incinerate my fingers! Ahh well, I suppose I should check it out.
Later: Well, I am glad that I did not attempt the cooking thing myself, as the gas (in the pipe leading to the oven) has to be turned on before you can light the stove. I never would have figured that one out. Luckily Nina M returned shortly after I finished writing the above paragraph. After dinner, I received a call from G of the AH, telling me that tomorrow, while everyone else is involved in teacher orientation things, I will be going to Moscow to pick up my suitcase. I am very relieved to be getting it back in my possession, but I am not particularly excited by the notion of spending a long day in the car while missing out on whatever important things we would otherwise be doing tomorrow. Ahh well. Such is life.
Part IV: Monday: Suitcase
I have my suitcase! Today was a long, boring, tiresome day, but I have my suitcase. I arrived at the AH this morning, and set out from there with V, one of the security guards. We drove to Moscow, which took us three hours. I must say that it was quite a gut wrenching and knuckle whitening ride. Luckily, I’ve ridden in enough Russian and Korean vehicles that at this point I am rather complacent about it. Nonetheless, I was amazed at some of the maneuvers he pulled in his ancient Volkswagen Golf. (Yes, it was a VW Golf, not a Lada or something.)
We spent about an hour at the airport. We found some women working in the Lost Luggage Department, who were very much disinterested in whether or not we found my suitcase. I had to give them my copies of the various forms Galina and I had filled out on my first day, and I had to show them my passport and my baggage claim tickets. Then they pointed me towards a very large warehouse, stacked floor to ceiling with lost luggage (reminiscent of the warehouse where the Arc of the Covenant is housed at the end of the first Indiana Jones movie, and more than full enough to stock Unclaimed Baggage in Alabama and a couple additional stores besides) and told me to go find my suitcase.
You might think this a daunting task, but let me just say, to all of you who have laughed at my garish bright orange and lime green ribbons attached to my suitcase: if it hadn’t been for them, I would still be crawling up and down the shelves in the warehouse checking each and every black suitcase to see whether or not it was mine. As it was, I was able to spot my suitcase immediately. Hah! (I must say that this rather surprised the women staffing the place.) V then tried to get someone (Aeroflot, LOT Polish, whoever) to give us some sort of reimbursement for the cost of having to drive all the way back to Moscow for something they lost. Of course, no one who was available claimed to be able to assist in any way. So, we returned to the car.
And the car would not start. (I remember thinking that at least I had my suitcase. And my towel; Ford Prefect would be proud.) There was definitely something terribly wrong with the starter. (The Russian word for starter, by the way, is apparently starter. Just say it with a Russian accent.) Luckily, the Golf was a stick shift. In theory, I’ve always known how to push start a stick, although I’ve never done it myself. There were many times when this could have been very useful in the Volvo, except that I doubt my petite friends and I could have pushed that tank fast enough to get it going. Anyhow, V push started it all by himself, then (as it was idling) proceeded to make some very unusual repairs with a pen knife and a rusty spring. It made it all the way back to Vladimir, although (due to rain) the drive back took four hours. A complete day shot, but at least I have my suitcase. I had to lug all 49lbs of black suitcase up several flights of stairs. There isn’t anywhere around my apartment where one can park, turn off one’s car, and then push start it, and V did not wish to get trapped in the alley behind my building. Of course, Nina M was utterly appalled that he did not bring the suitcase up to the apartment for me. I did not mind in the least. I keep telling you people that I am stronger than I look!
Today (Saturday) our group (teachers, staff and one former teacher) took an excursion to the nearby town of Suzdal. Suzdal is a very small and very old Russian town. It, like Vladimir, was once the capital of the ancient Russian state, and according to Lonely Planet, the first record of the town of Suzdal dates back to 1024. The town is full of churches, most of which are very, very old. It is unfortunate that I am not religious, as I would probably view them in an entirely different light. As it is, I am finding myself rather obsessed with photographing onion domes. I utterly adore the architecture of Russian Orthodox cathedrals, and to me all other historic churches and cathedrals pale in comparison.
We spent all day in Suzdal. We had absolutely perfect weather all day long, although as we were leaving it began to get cloudy, and they probably had one hell of a rain after we left. Today was the Suzdal City Day 2005, so there was a huge festival going on. Tourists (both local and from out of town) were everywhere. It was very strange to me, as the last time I was there (granted, this was back in 1999), there was hardly a soul in the town other than my group. I took an incredible amount of pictures (far too many shots were of onion domes), and am really, really happy that my digital camera is working. I have found that the best way to take fantastic pictures is to take as many as possible. That essentially improves your chances at snapping something great. I am sure any true photographers out there will simply laugh at this, but it works for me. I took 45 pictures in Suzdal, and four are absolutely incredible. I may go ahead and post a couple Vladimir and Suzdal images on this site (just a few) at some point when I have time to upload them all. Like I have said before, our internet connection is really slow.
Part II: My new home
I live in an apartment with a host mother named Nina M. She is (I think) in her upper sixties, although she may be older, and is a grandmother. The Russian term babushka (translated as grandmother) definitely applies to her. (There is a stereotypical babushka image, and she fits it to a T) Anyhow, she is very nice, and likes to make lots and lots of food. I usually tend to eat very little, but I feel horrible about not eating something she has taken the trouble to prepare. If only the portions were smaller! As it is, I think I am going to gain a ton of weight trying not to offend. The apartment is larger than that of my last host mother (from my 2000 trip) and we each have our own bedroom. My room overlooks a very busy Vladimir street. Nina M seems worried that I will have trouble sleeping because of the noise, but those of you who know me know that I could probably sleep through a war or an alien invasion. Plus, after living under the flight line of the San Diego airport for the past two years, I am essentially immune to noise.
I must say that the shower leaves much to be desired in terms of water pressure. Usually I miss Triscuits the most when I am overseas; I think this time I will be craving a strong shower. Unfortunately, Nina M does not have a cat, or any other pets, which is somewhat disappointing. She loves cats, and used to have one, but it died after a long life and made her very sad (that is essentially a direct translation). She is contemplating getting another kitty, but has not decided. Obviously, I am trying to encourage this! (I also told her about how my mom has ten cats. She did not react in shock, the way most people do. So I said it again. Apparently, she had assumed that I misspoke. No one has ten cats! I have also shown her pictures of my cat and of my mom’s cats. She really thinks that the long haired and fuzzy orange cat is the most adorable of the bunch.) I have found that my Russian language skills are not nearly as horrific as I had assumed. I comprehend nearly everything (especially when I know the context), although I still have a very difficult time replying. Additionally, despite having been away for five years, I am still very comfortable with life in Russia. I know that several of my coworkers have commented on how different things are here, and yet to me it all seems normal.
Part III: Sunday: Frisbee
I went to bed at 9:00 last night. After the long day, I was feeling utterly exhausted. I slept until almost 11:00 this morning! I had kind of expected to wake up at 6am or something. Most of the other American teachers and I had agreed to meet up at the American Home (AH) at 2pm, so everything worked out well time wise. I actually made it downtown early enough to do a little bit of walking about. I took some photographs of the Golden Gates and the nearby former Trinity Church (now home to the blown glass and crystal museum) from atop the remainder of the ancient ramparts of the city, as well as a few shots from along Bolshaya Moskovskaya, the main street of the town. I also took a couple of pictures of the AH, which I will post for you when I have time.
By that point it was time to meet up with the group. All of the Americans except Y. and Male B. came. The day was wonderful, yet again, with perfect temperatures and not a cloud in the sky. (Of course, some of the others are from much cooler climates, like B. who is from Alaska, and they seem to think it is hot here. However, after having spent the last month melting in the nearly unbearable heat and humidity of FL and GA, this seems like paradise. Although I am guessing that B. will adapt to the winter better than I will!) B. brought a frisbee, and J brought a football... Now, for those of you who do not know me personally, let me just tell you that I am not athletically inclined in the least. I enjoy walking and hiking, and that is essentially the extent of my sporting activities. It is somewhat unfortunate that at the bulk of the group is a lot more into sports than I am. I don’t mind sitting and watching people play (we were all talking, so I did not feel excluded or anything), although I felt like I was being a bit anti-social. But we did have fun. We walked down to the stadium (which was not open for public use, but which had a nice, open, empty field for general use right next door), and I watched while the others played football and frisbee. I also took some funny action shots. I have not gotten used to the sports setting (for taking pictures of fast moving people and things) yet, so the pictures are not the greatest, but still amusing nonetheless.
After playing (or watching!) for a few hours, we walked back to the AH, where we tried to check email, but alas, the internet was not working. I think the hardest part about being over here (as it is when I do any traveling) is not being able to have access to the internet at all times of the day. I feel like I am going through internet detox, although perhaps that is a good thing. We ended up sitting around and discussing various things, mainly the AH, teaching, students, etc for several hours. I returned home around 7pm. Nina M is not home, although this morning she told me that if she wasn’t here when I returned that there would be food on the stove, ready for me to heat up. I have not yet checked, although I am sure it is there. (The babushki love to feed us!) I am actually rather frightened of this ancient gas stove. Granted, I had to light the stove via matches at my last Russian apartment, but that was five years ago, and to the best of my recollection, I was always worried that I would incinerate my fingers! Ahh well, I suppose I should check it out.
Later: Well, I am glad that I did not attempt the cooking thing myself, as the gas (in the pipe leading to the oven) has to be turned on before you can light the stove. I never would have figured that one out. Luckily Nina M returned shortly after I finished writing the above paragraph. After dinner, I received a call from G of the AH, telling me that tomorrow, while everyone else is involved in teacher orientation things, I will be going to Moscow to pick up my suitcase. I am very relieved to be getting it back in my possession, but I am not particularly excited by the notion of spending a long day in the car while missing out on whatever important things we would otherwise be doing tomorrow. Ahh well. Such is life.
Part IV: Monday: Suitcase
I have my suitcase! Today was a long, boring, tiresome day, but I have my suitcase. I arrived at the AH this morning, and set out from there with V, one of the security guards. We drove to Moscow, which took us three hours. I must say that it was quite a gut wrenching and knuckle whitening ride. Luckily, I’ve ridden in enough Russian and Korean vehicles that at this point I am rather complacent about it. Nonetheless, I was amazed at some of the maneuvers he pulled in his ancient Volkswagen Golf. (Yes, it was a VW Golf, not a Lada or something.)
We spent about an hour at the airport. We found some women working in the Lost Luggage Department, who were very much disinterested in whether or not we found my suitcase. I had to give them my copies of the various forms Galina and I had filled out on my first day, and I had to show them my passport and my baggage claim tickets. Then they pointed me towards a very large warehouse, stacked floor to ceiling with lost luggage (reminiscent of the warehouse where the Arc of the Covenant is housed at the end of the first Indiana Jones movie, and more than full enough to stock Unclaimed Baggage in Alabama and a couple additional stores besides) and told me to go find my suitcase.
You might think this a daunting task, but let me just say, to all of you who have laughed at my garish bright orange and lime green ribbons attached to my suitcase: if it hadn’t been for them, I would still be crawling up and down the shelves in the warehouse checking each and every black suitcase to see whether or not it was mine. As it was, I was able to spot my suitcase immediately. Hah! (I must say that this rather surprised the women staffing the place.) V then tried to get someone (Aeroflot, LOT Polish, whoever) to give us some sort of reimbursement for the cost of having to drive all the way back to Moscow for something they lost. Of course, no one who was available claimed to be able to assist in any way. So, we returned to the car.
And the car would not start. (I remember thinking that at least I had my suitcase. And my towel; Ford Prefect would be proud.) There was definitely something terribly wrong with the starter. (The Russian word for starter, by the way, is apparently starter. Just say it with a Russian accent.) Luckily, the Golf was a stick shift. In theory, I’ve always known how to push start a stick, although I’ve never done it myself. There were many times when this could have been very useful in the Volvo, except that I doubt my petite friends and I could have pushed that tank fast enough to get it going. Anyhow, V push started it all by himself, then (as it was idling) proceeded to make some very unusual repairs with a pen knife and a rusty spring. It made it all the way back to Vladimir, although (due to rain) the drive back took four hours. A complete day shot, but at least I have my suitcase. I had to lug all 49lbs of black suitcase up several flights of stairs. There isn’t anywhere around my apartment where one can park, turn off one’s car, and then push start it, and V did not wish to get trapped in the alley behind my building. Of course, Nina M was utterly appalled that he did not bring the suitcase up to the apartment for me. I did not mind in the least. I keep telling you people that I am stronger than I look!
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