Today has been quite a strange day. Wednesdays are not normally very busy. We have a teachers' meeting at 1:00, which usually lasts about an hour, and I have office hours from 5:00-6:30. Other than that, no responsibilities. I started my day by sleeping in a little late and then going to the post office. The staff at the post office are usually so absurdly unhelpful as to be humorous.
(The last time I went to the post office, I wanted to mail two postcards. I went to a different post office than the ones I'd been to in the past, so I didn't know which line to stand in. So I asked the woman behind the counter: "Excuse me," I said, holding out my two postcards, "Where can I mail these postcards?" The woman sighed audibly and replied, "In the mail box." Okay, so I asked the wrong question. Let's try again: "Where can I buy stamps for these postcards?" Again the audible sigh. "At the cash register." Um, yeah. "Which cash register?" "This one." The woman continued doing whatever it was that she was doing - which, I might add, was not helping me - and after about five minutes of ignoring me, called out to one of her coworkers, "This girl wants to mail some postcards." Eventually the other woman helped me, although she too was full of audible sighs.)
Today I wanted to mail a package. I had been told that one post office in particular was the place to go for mailing packages. I don't know if this is the international-package-mailing-post-office, or if it's just easiest to mail them from this spot. (I've been to this PO before as well. Last time I was there I had to wait about 10-15 minutes because the staff was having tea. Lovely.) Anyhow, the woman in the PO was astonishingly helpful. I had two post cards in addition to my small package, and when I handed them to her and said that I wanted to mail them to the US, she (for some reason) assumed that I meant all together in one package, and immediately began to bundle them together in brown paper. Not to worry, I quickly pointed out that they were going to different places, and she laughed (laughed!!), and put stamps on the postcards before weighing the package. She even filled out my customs form for me. (I had been told I'd have to do this myself.) I was pretty impressed. Maybe there's hope yet.
Then I went to the AH. During the teachers' meeting, we all received a bar of Babaevsky Chocolate as gifts from Galya, because today was International Teachers' Day. (I don't know if this day is celebrated outside of Russia, or if it is one of those holidays created during the Soviet era to honor workers.) Anyhow, Babaevsky cholcolate is incredible. It's the nearest to ambrosia of anything I have ever tasted. Who needs any lame American brands of chocolate when you can have Babaevsky? Mmmm. Go on, buy my love with chocolate bars, and I'll be fine.
After the teachers' meeting, a group of Americans came to the AH. They were tourists, part of a two-week tour of Russia arranged by Serendipity-Russia (parent company of the AH), as part of their tourism development project. The Americans received the grand tour of the AH and then we gathered in one of the classrooms for about half an hour, chatting. (Where were we from, why did we decide to teach at the AH, etc.) Then we all adjourned to the basement for a balalaika concert. The balalaika (for those of you who don't know) is a traditional Russian instrument, which looks somewhat like what you'd get from mating a guitar with a banjo. It can be played in a manner similar to classical guitar, although it would be just as much at home in the hills playing folk music. Unfortunately I do not recall the balalaika player's name. Anyhow, he was incredible. His performance was beautiful and energetic, and he was very animated. I could not stop staring at his fingers as they flew across the strings at an unbelievable speed. He played classical arrangements, folk songs and modern tunes, and it was all wonderful. The balalaika has such a warm sound. (I meant to buy one of his CDs after the show, but he was swarmed by the American tourists, who purchased all of the CDs he'd brought with him. I will probably have to opportunity to hear him again and to buy a CD.) I was a tad distracted by the fact that he looked like an odd hybrid of Commander Data and a friend from back home, but I suppose that's a rather pointless comment to make. I took some pictures of him, although they look so wooden compared to how animated he was in real life. I very much enjoyed the show, as did the Americans.
(The last time I went to the post office, I wanted to mail two postcards. I went to a different post office than the ones I'd been to in the past, so I didn't know which line to stand in. So I asked the woman behind the counter: "Excuse me," I said, holding out my two postcards, "Where can I mail these postcards?" The woman sighed audibly and replied, "In the mail box." Okay, so I asked the wrong question. Let's try again: "Where can I buy stamps for these postcards?" Again the audible sigh. "At the cash register." Um, yeah. "Which cash register?" "This one." The woman continued doing whatever it was that she was doing - which, I might add, was not helping me - and after about five minutes of ignoring me, called out to one of her coworkers, "This girl wants to mail some postcards." Eventually the other woman helped me, although she too was full of audible sighs.)
Today I wanted to mail a package. I had been told that one post office in particular was the place to go for mailing packages. I don't know if this is the international-package-mailing-post-office, or if it's just easiest to mail them from this spot. (I've been to this PO before as well. Last time I was there I had to wait about 10-15 minutes because the staff was having tea. Lovely.) Anyhow, the woman in the PO was astonishingly helpful. I had two post cards in addition to my small package, and when I handed them to her and said that I wanted to mail them to the US, she (for some reason) assumed that I meant all together in one package, and immediately began to bundle them together in brown paper. Not to worry, I quickly pointed out that they were going to different places, and she laughed (laughed!!), and put stamps on the postcards before weighing the package. She even filled out my customs form for me. (I had been told I'd have to do this myself.) I was pretty impressed. Maybe there's hope yet.
Then I went to the AH. During the teachers' meeting, we all received a bar of Babaevsky Chocolate as gifts from Galya, because today was International Teachers' Day. (I don't know if this day is celebrated outside of Russia, or if it is one of those holidays created during the Soviet era to honor workers.) Anyhow, Babaevsky cholcolate is incredible. It's the nearest to ambrosia of anything I have ever tasted. Who needs any lame American brands of chocolate when you can have Babaevsky? Mmmm. Go on, buy my love with chocolate bars, and I'll be fine.
After the teachers' meeting, a group of Americans came to the AH. They were tourists, part of a two-week tour of Russia arranged by Serendipity-Russia (parent company of the AH), as part of their tourism development project. The Americans received the grand tour of the AH and then we gathered in one of the classrooms for about half an hour, chatting. (Where were we from, why did we decide to teach at the AH, etc.) Then we all adjourned to the basement for a balalaika concert. The balalaika (for those of you who don't know) is a traditional Russian instrument, which looks somewhat like what you'd get from mating a guitar with a banjo. It can be played in a manner similar to classical guitar, although it would be just as much at home in the hills playing folk music. Unfortunately I do not recall the balalaika player's name. Anyhow, he was incredible. His performance was beautiful and energetic, and he was very animated. I could not stop staring at his fingers as they flew across the strings at an unbelievable speed. He played classical arrangements, folk songs and modern tunes, and it was all wonderful. The balalaika has such a warm sound. (I meant to buy one of his CDs after the show, but he was swarmed by the American tourists, who purchased all of the CDs he'd brought with him. I will probably have to opportunity to hear him again and to buy a CD.) I was a tad distracted by the fact that he looked like an odd hybrid of Commander Data and a friend from back home, but I suppose that's a rather pointless comment to make. I took some pictures of him, although they look so wooden compared to how animated he was in real life. I very much enjoyed the show, as did the Americans.
Following the concert, we all had tea (and cookies and candies and cakes and pirogi), and socialized, not just with one another, but with the Russian students and local officials who had come to the affair. I knew some of the students already, and met a few whom I had not met previously, which was nice. I also learned that one of the tourists was the former mayor of Springfield, IL, and that she is part of the Serendipity-Russia Tourism Development Project. I talked a little with her regarding the development of websites for the region, and was passed along to a Russian Vladimir City Administrator. I talked to him and his assistant for a while about websites, and gave them all my contact info (and my puny web design portfolio), and soon I will probably get to do some web design work for the city of Vladimir (most likely for free, but still...). Cool!
After everyone left, I decided to head home. As I was crossing Theater Square, a young woman looked at me and said "Hello." Not "stravstvuite" not "privet" but a good old English "hello." Hmmmm. I had no recollection of ever seeing her before. She looked like a Russian, so I figured that asking her if she was a student at the AH was a safe bet. I was right. She told me that she had been to my presentation on my road trip, and that she had found it very, very interesting. She also told me that she would definitely come if I gave another presentation. At the AH, each teacher gives one presentation during the year, averaging out at about one per month or so. I explained that I probably wouldn't be giving another presentation. She said that was too bad, because she had enjoyed it so much, she would love to see another. That was a nice morale boost.
When I came home, as soon as Nina M opened the door, I could smell alcohol in the air. (Keep in mind this woman is in her upper sixties if not lower seventies.) I could hear many boisterous female voices emanating from the living room. Nina M., who had obviously been imbibing, invited me to join them. I entered the living room, where a table had been erected and covered with fruit, candy, cake, cookies, booze and tea. The table was surrounded by five other women, all probably around 10 years younger than Nina M., who were all in various stages of encroaching babushka-ness. They were also all in various stages of intoxication. Luckily, most of the booze had already been consumed by the time I got there, and they were only able to foist one small glass of wine on me. Apparently, in honor of International Teachers Day, a gathering of Nina M.'s former students (she was a German teacher) had assembled. They were all obviously very good friends, and they loved to talk. I sat at the table and picked at the food (they were all convinced that for some reason I was embarrassed to eat in front of them, but the fact was, I had already had a good bit to eat at the AH) and listened to their conversation for about an hour. At times it was pretty hard to follow, but I think this was because a lot of the time they reminisced and laughed at inside jokes; I could understand most of the words but without any idea of the context, I couldn't really follow the conversation. They spent a good bit of time discussing people they knew who had died, or who had fallen ill, which of the group had been in the hospital and why... and then moved on to the topic of politics. There is an election here in Vladimir in about a week for various local government positions. I have no idea who is running, what their views are or even what positions they are seeking. However, now I do know that none of these women have a high opinion of any of the candidates. A while later, someone brought up the topic of Beslan, and this, oddly enough, led into a rather heated discussion about resurrection. Apparently there is some jackass ("jackass" is my personal opinion of this chap) who claims to be able to resurrect the children massacred in Beslan last year, who has been taking money from the grief stricken families in exchange for this service. According to one woman, the man was able to communicate with the dead children and ask them if they wanted to be resurrected, but they said that they were in heaven and did not want to return. According to another, the man can resurrect the children, but with "different skin and in a different place." Yeah, I can do that too. Others thought the whole thing was total nonsense and that the man was indeed a jackass. I decided it was time to leave and do my Russian homework. I retreated into my room; the party continued late into the evening.
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