from russia with blog

From Russia to America

2006-07-01T05:39:00.000+04:00

[This post is cross-posted with Jane's Daily Blah]

My last full day in Russia was, in many ways, a normal day. I went to the AH, spent some quality time on the internet, and hung out with Brooke, Youngmee, Kelli, Misha, Layla and Asya. We ate leftovers from the previous day’s party and (for the most part) just sat around listening to music, talking and enjoying each others company. At the end of the day (after Kelli and Layla had gone home) the rest of us took one final walk together down Bolshaya Moscovskaya to Pushkin Park, around the cathedrals and then back to the AH, at which point it was time to say goodbye. The others were going off in a different direction from me, so I waved them goodbye from the sidewalk as their marshrutka drove away. While I know that I *will* see these people again, it is so unfathomably strange to think about not seeing them on a daily basis and no knowing when I will actually see them again in the flesh.

Misha, me, Youngmee, Brooke

Brooke, Youngmee, Misha, me

My last evening at home with Nina Mikhailovna was no different than normal – other than the fact that all of my possessions were packed into two giant suitcases and one large carry-on. And I set my alarm for 3:00am instead of my usual 10:00am. Luckily for me, Nina M. set her alarm as well, as I managed to turn mine off in my sleep without waking up. I was awakened at 4:00am by Nina M. The AH had arranged for my ride to the airport to pick me up at 4:30am. I was already feeling stressed about my lack of time to make my final preparations when my ride arrived at 4:10! Ahh well – I made it out of there alright, and I don’t *think* I forgot anything. Kelli rode with me to the airport, as her sister was flying into Sheremetyevo about an hour after I took off. Unlike my last trip to the airport (which took something like six hours and had me checking in while my plane was boarding...) this trip was uneventful and we made it to the airport in record time. Of course, this meant that I got to stand around for two and a half hours before they let me check in, but better early than late!

I flew from Moscow to Paris on an Air France flight operated by Aeroflot. I was a little leery of traveling with them again after the last time, but what could I do? It turned out that the plane from Moscow to Paris was a much nicer plane than the one I flew in from Poland to Moscow back in August. Definitely newer, cleaner and classier. The French influence, perhaps? Anyhow, I’d heard some horror stories about transfers in the Charles du Galle airport in Paris, and I was glad that I had a three hour layover. While I do admit that the airport was confusing to navigate (I’m sure it’s impossible to do so quickly, although supposedly they’re installing a new transit-train which should improve things) I actually enjoyed my time in the airport. All of the staff were incredibly friendly. It wasn’t just that I’d come from eleven months in surly Russia. These people were far more outgoing, friendly and helpful than pretty much anyone I’ve ever encountered in a service industry. And it didn’t hurt that a lot of these friendly and outgoing people were also hot, flirty French fellows with sexy French accents.

By the time I got on the plane I was feeling pretty exhausted, and as soon as we boarded I passed out. As such, I didn’t realize until we were approaching Atlanta that we had taken off from Paris an hour late (which is kind of odd, considering that we boarded on time). Every one around me seemed to be feeling frantic, worrying about whether or not they’d be able to make their connecting flights in Atlanta. Meanwhile, I felt calm and relaxed, and took a bunch of pictures of clouds. (I would just like to mention that the food on Air France was DELICIOUS. I usually tolerate airplane food just fine, but I’ve never in my life considered any of it to be delicious. Well, this stuff certainly was a tasty treat – two incredibly yummy meals.)

This was my view.
The splotchy discolorations are from ice crystals on the window.

Again, my view.

When the plane landed in Atlanta, before they let us off, there was an announcement. “Passenger Jane Keeler, please see a Delta Ground Staff representative for a message.” Great. (Delta is partners with Air France, BTW) As soon as I stepped off the plane, there was a man waiting at the gate with a sign bearing my name and my message: “Your mother is going to be late. Please wait for her.” Um, okay. Where would I go, anyway? I went through passport control and then to baggage claim. My big ass green suitcase arrived promptly... and then I stood and waited and waited and waited for my black one. You know, the one that didn’t make it to Moscow on my way *to* Russia. Just as I was getting ready to go look for someone for some assistance, there was another announcement. “Jane Keeler, please see a Delta Ground Staff representative for a message.” Of course, my thought was yes, yes, I know; my mother is going to be late. But it turned out that this message was, “You black suitcase is still in Paris.” WTF?! I had a three hour layover! How did the bag not make it on the plane? But, they told me exactly where to go and what to do in order to get the bag tracked down and shipped to me. (Yes, unlike LOT Polish / Aeroflot, Air France / Delta delivers.) Anyway, I emerged from the pit of the airport and found my mother, who had arrived before me anyway due to the delay of my flight. Then we stood in an interminably long line at the lost luggage counter so I could file my claim. Supposedly my suitcase will be delivered tomorrow. I hope!

At that point it was after 9:30pm Atlanta time (5:00am Vladimir time!) and both my mom and I were feeling pretty wiped out, although we began our trek down to Waycross nonetheless. We drove for about an hour and a half, and stopped to eat at the one thing in south Georgia that’s open at 11:00pm: Waffle House! Our first attempt to eat at a Waffle House was thwarted by the fact that the first one we stopped at was closed. WTF? Waffle Houses never close! But apparently something was being done to the floor, and it was closed for the next two hours. But never fear, there was a Waffle House at the next exit. Thus, my first meal upon returning to the States was an incredibly greasy grilled cheese sandwich and a bowl of grits with cheese. No wonder so many Americans are obese. Even though it was pretty late, the restaurant was packed, probably due to the fact that the other one was closed. As a result we were in there for an hour. So, two cups of coffee and way too much grease later, we got back on the road and drove for something like three more hours; it was shortly after 3:00am when we pulled into my mom’s driveway. I dragged myself inside and promptly collapsed into bed. That’s 31 hours after I was awakened in Vladimir by Nina Mikhailovna, folks.

I expected to sleep for something like 15 straight hours, but annoyingly my body still thinks it’s on Vladimir time, and I ended up getting up around 7:00am. My mom and I got dressed and set out to my new house, so I could see it in real life for the first time. Mom seemed really worried that I wasn’t going to like my house or that I would be disappointed with it or something, but I love it! Granted, Terry (our contractor) is still there doing work on it, and afterwards there’s still going to be a lot that needs to be done (cleaning the kitchen and bathroom, painting over all that horrible wood paneling, and refinishing the living/dining room floor) but the house is really wonderful. Not to mention that I have a green couch (more olive than lime, but still awesome) and the world’s largest kitchen. I simply cannot fathom why someone would build a kitchen that’s that enormous. Not that I’m complaining or anything; it’s just strange. I’ve got a dining table and chairs set up in the corner of the kitchen and they hardly make a dent in the space. I’m going to use the “dining” room as my office. The neighborhood definitely isn’t the best, and I hope the fact that I’m the only white person for miles doesn’t cause me any problems, but I love it.

My house :-)
That's Terry the Contractor's truck out front.
I'll get a decent pic of the place someday when it's not parked there.

There are Js on the shutters.
Unfortunately, because of where my head is,
it kind of looks like a T in this shot.

Apparently, I live on the corner of Ass and Ass.
Luckily, I find this highly amusing.

I was standing in my kitchen door when i took this.
Thes space in the foreground is supposed to be the dining room,
but it's going to be my office. The living room is in the rear.
Be sure to note the green couch!!

Reverse shot: from the front door in the living room,
facing the office and the door to the kitchen.

My bedroom, complete with $20 bed. Yard sales rock.

Isn't this kitchen ridiculously big?
You can't even see all of it in this picture!

Hell, just this part alone would be a big kitchen.

After seeing the house, we went out and purchased some things for it: two fans (for the living/office rooms), a mattress cover, and cleaning supplies. Then I returned to my mom’s house and took a very lengthy nap.

My last post from Russia

2006-06-28T12:38:00.000+04:00

[This post is cross-posted with Jane's Daily Blah]

Wow. This is really hard to comprehend. It's not really sinking in that tomorrow I'll be in Waycross, GA. Weird. This won't be my final post on From Russia With Blog, although it will be my final post from Russia, at least for the forseeable future. I will continue to blog over at Jane's Daily Blah, and I hope that those of you who have followed my adventures across Russia will continue to follow me through the Georgia swamplands and across the Pacific to the Land of the Morning Calm (that being South Korea). I figured it up, and between the fact that I'll be leaving Vladimir tomorrow at 4:30 in the morning and the fact that it takes about four hours to get from Atlanta to Waycross, I'm going to be traveling for approximately 26 hours or so. That means I'm going to be essentially unconscious for several days upon my arrival. I will blog as soon as I can, although I can't promise exactly *when* that's going to be. In the meanwhile, here are some pictures from yesterday's final party with all of the AH teachers and staff.

The party was held in the backyard under red, white and blue umbrellas.
(Keep in mind, these are the colors of the Russian flag, too.
The US doesn't have a monopoly on the red, white and blue.)

There were lots of toasts.

Galya gives a speech while Vanya and Tatiana laugh.

No, there's nothing wrong with your monitor...
the salad really was this color.

It was delicious though. I'm going to miss Russian salads.

Glen, Jane and Misha
We always sat together at AH parties.

Brooke, Alyona and Britt

Misha the Dog

(I realized that while I have *tons* of Gosha the Cat pics, I had no shots of Misha the Dog. Misha's a stray to whom the AH feeds generous portions of scraps on a daily basis. He did quite well at yesterday's party, as he got the bulk of the leftovers.)

Britt and Alyona brought their young son, Alex.
While we had all seen photos of Alex,
this was the first time we saw him in the flesh :-)

My last day of class at the AH

2006-06-27T12:14:00.000+04:00

It's strange to think that my teaching days at the AH are finally over. Yesterday was the final day of class, which normally consists of returning final exams, discussing common exam mistakes and having a party. Yesterday was no different. My first class brought cake, candy, two bottles of champagne, a box of Georgian wine (as in the country, not the state), and a bottle of vodka. They also gave me a lovely set of crystal shot glasses from the town of Gus Khrustalny, renowned for its crystal. We spent the bulk of the class having wonderful Ruslish conversations, and it was really a lovely way to end the semester.

Me, with my 4:00pm class

They taught me the proper way to make a Bloody Mary:
You have to make sure the vodka and tomato juice don't mix
That way you shoot the vodka and have a built in chaser.

Gus Khrustalny crystal shot glasses.

My second class brought less booze (luckily for me!), and we spent the class time sipping champagne, eating chocolate and chatting. They gave me a traditional Russian cutting board set, which will look nice in my kitchen, once I get the place painted. After class, two of my students invited me to a cafe where we split a bottle of wine amongst the three of us, nibbled salads and chatted some more. The whole evening was really wonderful.

Me with my 7:00pm class

My Russian cutting board

Masha and Lily at the cafe

This is what my memory of last night is like!

Of course, when I returned home I was completely trashed, and Nina M got a great laugh out of it. I went straight to bed and expected to sleep straight through until morning. Sadly, that was not to be. Now, being from the swamplands of the Southeastern US, I'm accustomed to mosquitoes. I don't like them, but they rarely disturb my slumber. Let me just say that the mosquitoes here in Vladimir are of an entirely worse variety. Once I get stung by one of these creatures, I immediately awaken and spend the next hour or so rubbing hydrocortisone cream on the itchy and enflamed areas. These guys are potent, and I swear their one goal in life is to bite my hands and feet as I sleep. Sadly, I didn't sleep as well as I would have liked....

Today we're having a big going away party here at the AH. All of the Russian staff is currently in the midst of some sort of cooking marathon, and soon we shall have a feast.... I will try to post pics of said event, assuming I don't pass out from lack of sleep or from further consumption of alcohol (which is destined to happen, I'm sure!)

A Great American Home Tradition

2006-06-25T19:42:00.000+04:00

[This post is cross-posted with Jane's Daily Blah]

Today was hot. Now, I know there are a lot of uninformed people out there who think that all of Russia is covered by many feet of snow all year round... In case you're one of them, let me just go ahead and kill off that myth. Granted, only a few short months ago the streets were covered in mountains of snow, and the temperature dropped to -40. But it's June folks, almost July... and today it was in the 90s. None of us really had any plans (except for Brooke, who is off on an adventure with her host mom this weekend), so as per usual we all gravitated towards the American Home. And, as the AH is one of the few airconditioned places in the city, we stayed here for the remainder of the day. Around 4:00 the sky suddenly grew dark and the wind began to blow... We scurried to Grossmart for provisions and raced back to the AH. Of course once we returned, we realized that we should have gotten the goods to make garlic bread. Misha and Youngmee raced off to the store, but almost as soon as they left a whopping thunderstorm (of the sort frequently seen in the southeastern US) whipped up and poured out. Kelli, Asya and I were glad to have stayed inside the AH. Misha and Youngmee got drenched, but it was worth it as we roasted a baguette stuffed with butter and garlic to accompany the fresh veggies we stir-fried up to top off some pasta. Yes the Great American Home Tradition is that of eating well.

Misha did most of the cooking

Doesn't it look scrumptious?

Before popping it into the oven,
Kelli stuffed the cracks with butter and pressed garlic.

Gosha the carnivore had his own feast.

Randomness

2006-06-24T12:37:00.000+04:00

[This post is cross posted with Jane's Daily Blah]

Last night after administering final exams (always somewhat frustrating, given the blatant and rampant cheating attempts of our students) we went to one of the many beer tents that have sprung up across the city with the arrival of summer, where we consumed yummy shashlik and even yummier beer. I'm going to miss the land of the beer tent.

Youngmee, Layla, me, Asya

Misha, Glen, Brooke, Vova

I would just like to mention that this new haircut of mine rocks. See, my hair is notoriously uncooperative. After most nice (or not so nice...) haircuts, the hairdresser fixes my hair and it looks great, but then when I try and fix it myself, it takes a lot of effort not to look like ass. I must say that this is the first short haircut I've had that requires almost no work whatsoever. I get up and I brush it and it does what it's supposed to do. I'm quite impressed. (For anyone who might be interested in such a magical haircut, it was done by Sveta who works at the Vasilisa hair salon on Bolshaya Moscovskaya, Vladimir)

For those of you who enjoy reading mysteries and/or for those of you who are interested in Tibet, I have a book recommendation for you. As you may or may not know, I've been slowly working my way through the rather large collection of paperback mysteries in the AH library. There's one that's been sitting there for a while that I'd been ignoring due to its horribly cheezy title. I finally picked it up the other day and read the back of the book and decided to give it a try. The book is The Skull Mantra by Eliot Pattison. It's too bad that it has such a cheezy name (although after reading it, I discovered that there's a legitimate reason for this absurd title) because the book is fabulous. Not only is it a well written and engaging mystery, but it gives a clear and fascinating look into life in Tibet, life in the Tibetan prison systems, and Tibetan Buddhism. Now granted, I know remarkably little about Tibet or Tibetan Buddhism, so I have no way of knowing whether or not Pattison's depictions are accurate; however, while reading it I felt such a strong sense of place - so beautiful and magical - that I now find myself wanting to learn more about both Tibet and Tibetan Buddhism. The description on the back of the book says that it "will change the way you think about Tibet - and freedom - forever." I read that and thought what a crock of shit... but whaddyaknow. You should all definitely check it out.

And the last bit of randomness that I have for you today comes in the form of an email from my mom: I have bought you a lime-green (sort of) 1950ish couch. Sorry, but it's not fuzzy -- it's vinyl. YES!!!!!!! And I'll get to sit on it in five days :-)

Vladimir: 1912 and today

2006-06-23T11:45:00.000+04:00

(Thanks to Misha for sharing this with me!) In the early 1900's, photographer Sergei Mikhailovich Prokudin-Gorskii developed a new and cutting edge technique for shooting color photographs. You can read about his work by clicking here, and you can see many of his color photos of turn of the century Tsarist Russia by clicking here. However, I want to point out the contrast (or lack there of) between his pictures, taken almost a century ago, and my photos, taken on June 22, 2006:

Cathedral of St. Dmitry
Photo by Sergei Mikhailovich Prokudin-Gorskii, 1912

Cathedral of St. Dmitry
Photo by me, June 22, 2006

Uspensky (Assumption) Cathedral
Photo by Sergei Mikhailovich Prokudin-Gorskii, 1912

Uspensky (Assumption) Cathedral
Photo by me, June 22, 2006
(Although the lighting wasn't as good
as I would have liked when I took this)

On one hand, I realize that these cathedrals were built in 1194 and 1158, respectively... and if something's been around that long, you shouldn't really expect it to change much over the space of 94 years, but just looking at the photos made me feel like I was living inside some sort of strange time warp. Hope you enjoy them. Anyway, I had decided to run down to Cathedral Square to snap some recent pics of the cathedrals, and I caught a glimpse of the Bogoroditse-Pozhdestvensky monastery, and it occurred to me that in my eleven months in Vladimir I hadn't been inside it. So, I popped on in. To be honest, it wasn't really all that interesting, although there were some intricately carved bells which I photographed...

Bogoroditse-Pozhdestvensky monastery

Bell close-up #1

Bell close-up #2

Of Solstices and Short Hair

2006-06-22T13:12:00.000+04:00

Yesterday was essentially my last class at the American Home! Yes, I do officially have two more days of classes (Friday and Monday), but Friday we administer final exams and Monday we have our end of the semester parties... so for all intents and purposes I'm done!! Woohoo! Yesterday after classes, we all arrived at this realization and decided that since we were essentially finished (and since it was the Summer Solstice after all) we should break out some beer, salty beer-cheese and vodka. This may have turned into a rather insane dance party in our office, during which Brooke and I may or may not have demonstrated some scandalous belly-dancing moves to our compatriots. Sorry, I don't have any pics of this to share (we did however make a lot of absurd short videos... but out of respect for all included - myself foremost - I'm not posting any of them!) I did however go home and play around with making self-portraits of me and my new hair. I will share them with you. I can't believe I'll be home in a week. Weird.

Happy Summer Solstice :-)

2006-06-21T14:21:00.000+04:00

Happy Summer Solstice! Today is the longest day of the year (if you scroll down to my 10:30pm sunsets from the other day, you'll see that this has been slowly approaching for some time - and I'm hundreds of miles south of the famed White Nights of St. Petersburg) Anyway, while we have talked about burning things and dancing naked in the grass... the truth of the matter is that today is a work day. I'll be teaching until 9:15pm... granted, it'll still be daylight when I leave the AH, but after class I'm usually pooped. Ahh well. We'll have to plan some post-Solstice pseudo-pagan revelry for my return to the States :-)

Sleepy Cat, Sunsets and a New Haircut

2006-06-20T13:22:00.000+04:00

Gosha continues his obsession with napping in the paper-cutter.

Last night when I left the American Home,
there was a spectacular sunset.

I took lots of pictures.

I even got some from Studyonaya Gora
(where there's a slightly better view than Theater Square)

Did I mention this was around 10:00pm?

Notice how my hair starts off one color,
then transforms several times on its way down...

Well, not any more!
I am 100% my natural hair color for the first time in 10 years!

T Minus Ten

2006-06-19T12:19:00.000+04:00

This is the second time I've created a post entitled T Minus Ten. I went back and re-read said post from August 1st, 2005, and to be honest, it was a little unnerving. See, I'm back to it being T Minus ten again: I have ten days until I find myself back in Georgia. Most of you might not know this about me, but I have a tendency to plan out what I'm going to be wearing each day for the next week or so. Yes, I know this is anal and crazy, but I've been doing this for something like 17 years now (seriously) and I'm not planning to stop any time soon. I bring this up because last night it occurred to me that I could set out what I'll be wearing for the remainder of my time here in Russia. Talk about scary. And of course, that realization kicked me into a burst of packing. I'm leaving tons of stuff here, and I'm still going to be coming home with more crap than I brought with me... On the one hand, I'm really excited to go home and see all of my friends and family, not to mention that I'm really looking forward to seeing my new house for the first time... But on the other hand I'm *really* going to miss life in Vladimir. I can't imagine what it's going to be like not seeing my friends and coworkers every day. Or not speaking Russian every day. Or simply not being here. Seriously, it's going to be strange.

Bogolyubovo

2006-06-18T12:59:00.000+04:00

So I finally went to Bogolyubovo yesterday. Bogolyubovo is a small (but ancient) town located just to the east of Vladimir. I've wanted to go ever since my arrival in Russia... I even knew what bus I needed to take, but I was worried that I'd get there and I wouldn't be able to figure out where to go and would therefore end up missing stuff. Well, I needn't have worried, and now I feel kind of silly that I put off going until shortly before my departure. But, at least I have now been. For anyone who might be interested in visiting Bogolyubovo: From the center of Vladimir, take Bus #152 east until you see a very large cathedral on the side of the road. Seriously, you can't miss it. Once you're in Bogolyubov, you'll want to see the Bogolyuvsky Monastyr and the Church of the Intercesion on the Nerl. Bogolyuvsky Monastyr is the complex located right next to the road. The other church is off in the distance. You can see it and follow the paths (and tourists) or simply ask someone. Like I said, I feel silly for having put this off for so long, as the place was easy to navigate.

Thus, yesterday afternoon (following belly dancing, of course!) Brooke, Youngmee, Asya and I set off for Bogolyubovo. The town of Bogolyubovo was originally founded as a fortress in the 12th century by Prince Andrei Bogolyubsky ("Bogolyubsky" means "loved by god"). He was murdered there in 1174, after which his fortress was sacked and destroyed. Our first stop was the Bogolyubsky Monastyr, built in the 13th century on the grounds of Bogolyubsky's former fortress. As a tip for visitors to the monastary: While anyone may enter the grounds, if you are a woman and are interested in entering the churches, you need to have something to cover your head (and shoulders if wearing a tank-top), and you need to be wearing either a skirt of a dress. We, being frightfully unequipped, only explored the grounds.

The booming metropolis of Bogolyubovo. (Er...)

Obviously this archway leading into the monastery is hardly historical,
but I really loved the colors.

Domes of the Bogolybsky Cathedral

The Church of the Annunciation

A full shot of the Church of the Annunciation.
The discolored part to the lower left is all that remains
from the time of Prince Bogolyubsky.
It is in there where he was killed.

We walked behind the monastery on our way to the Church of the Intercession on the Nerl. Quite a scenic route - great for photography. Of course, I was pretty much overwhelmed by the pookh. Pookh (fluff) comes from cottonwood trees, and is all over the place these days. I know there are places in the US where cottonwood trees grow - but they certainly don't grow in the south. Thus the fact that it seems to be snowing pookh at times is fascinating to me. (Although my sinuses are less fascinated and more pissed off, I must admit.)

A view of the monastery from the rear.
If you click here to see the large view,
you can see all of the pookh in the air!

Pookh in its natural habitat
(before it detaches and makes for my sinuses)

There is somewhat of a marshy lake behind the monastery.

I loved this house.
If I paint my house this color, will people think I'm crazy?

I liked this house too.

I also thought that this dilapidated old Russian car
was quite picturesque.

We crossed the railroad tracks and walked across a vast field (this will bring you past women selling very nice shawls if you're interested in that sort of thing - I got myself a pink one - or if you're lacking something to cover your head). The field was filled with flowers and bumblebees (I didn't get any good macro shots, unfortunately) and the fresh aroma of flowers. When we approached the Church of the Intercession on the Nerl, we sat in the grass and had a small picnic of grapes and apricots. Yum.

Asya, Brooke, Youngmee.
Let's just say I find crazy people everywhere I go.

This was the view to the north of our picnic spot.
(That's the Bogolyubsky Monastyr, if you can't tell)

And this was our view to the south:
The Church of the Intercession on the Nerl

The Church of the Intercession on the Nerl is quite picturesque
(although if you go when it's warm, there may be plenty
of Russian dudes in Speedos.)

If you come in the spring after the snow melts
you can get the full reflection of the church in the water.

Up-close corner shot.

The reliefs on the walls were pretty incredible.
I recommend clicking here to view them up close.

Sense of Bulgaria

2006-06-17T13:28:00.000+04:00

My friend Doriana (who is Bulgarian and - surprise - therefore lives in Bulgaria) sent me this link: Sense of Bulgaria - beautiful images of mountains in Bulgaria. Check it out!!

The end of the [virtual] world as we know it?

2006-06-14T13:52:00.000+04:00

A while back I posted an article about the dangers to the equal-access Internet of today that we know and love. Thanks to my friend Stephanie, I have some more info for you on the topic... and sadly, it's not looking particularly great. Alas, the idea of Net Neutrality has been shut down by the House. Is this getting much coverage in the States?

Yasnaya Polyana and Tula

2006-06-13T14:46:00.000+04:00

Hi everybody! Sorry I haven't posted in a while... I spent most of Saturday in bed, recovering from the rather unpleasant head cold I came down with last week (and I'm still popping Sudafed and carting about Kleenexes, dammit). On Sunday Brooke, Kelli, Youngmee, Misha and I went with Brooke's host mother Ira (well, she's 31 so it sounds really weird calling her a host mother, but you get the point) to Yasnaya Polyana (Tolstoy's estate, click for more info) and the nearby city of Tula (more info).

We left Vladimir on the 7:30am train to Moscow. Upon arrival, we took the metro to the Ulitsa Akademika Yangelya station. We stood in a small parkinglot next to the station and waited for the next available marshrutka (mini-bus taxi) to come and take us to the city of Tula. The trip from Moscow to Tula took a little less than two hours. We arrived in Tula and immediately caught a different marshrutka out to Yasnaya Polyana, which is located about 25 minutes or so out of town. We spent the entire afternoon at Yasnaya Polyana. We got there too late to sign up for an excursion into the houses on the estate, but we were easily able to fill our afternoon exploring the vast and beautiful estate. Photographs from Yasnaya Polyana are as follows:

Tolstoy's home

Tolstoy's tomb

A birch and an oak intertwined - a symbol of love

The big pond on the estate

Birch trees

Geese

Jane and Brooke

The vast fields of the estate

Kelli helping Brooke and Youngmee do handstands

Back: Misha and Ira
Front: Youngmee, Jane, Kelli
This bench is located in what was supposedly Tolstoy's favorite spot to sit, think and write. Perhaps it will give me some insiration.

Jane, Youngmee, Kelli, Brooke, Misha

Me :-)

Jane, Ira, Brooke, Youngmee
Tired after a long Day

At around 6:00pm, one of Ira's friends (along with her husband and son) met us at Yasnaya Polyana and took us back into Tula. We had planned to stay in the Hotel Tula, and we had been told that it is almost always empty, so we didn't need to worry about reservations or anything. Well, it turned out that last weekend Tula was hosting some sort of massive sporting event. Not only were all of the rooms in the Hotel Tula booked, but nearly all of the rooms in the city were occupied. Ira and her friends drove around the city (while we waited in a park) looking for an empty hotel room for us. I think we might have found the last remaining hotel room in the city: the people who had reserved it weren't scheduled to arrive until around 10:00am on Monday. Of course when we got to the hotel and the staff found out that we were foreigners. I guess there's a lot of extra paperwork that hotels have to do if they allow foreigners to stay there, and they seriosuly considered kicking us out. However, the people were very nice and let us stay on the down-low. That evening we found a delicious German beerhouse/restaurant. The food was excellent, the service was good, and the prices were cheap. The place was called Frau Marta, if you're ever there - it's defintiely worth checking out.

The next morning we had to be out of the hotel by 9:00am, which got us up and out into Tula bright and early. We walked around for a while looking for a cafe that was open that early (most of the places we found opened at 10:00am or at noon... this is definitely not the land of IHOP and Denny's) and eventually we found a wonderful coffee house near the Kremlin with (again) excellent food, good service and cheap prices. After breakfast we explored the city of Tula. Sadly, the Kremlin and the city's museums were closed (some are always closed on Mondays, others were closed because Monday was a holiday), but we were able to walk around the city and take lots of pictures. Tula is a beautiful city, very clean, with many tree-lined streets, and I wish that I could have spent more time there.

Domes of the Kremlin's Assumption cathedral as
seen from the outside of the Kremlin

Downtown Tula

Two old churches, formerly property of the Uspensky
women's monastery, located in the center of Tula

The Tula Kremlin

Cupolas of the Assumption Cathedral

Again - Assumption Cathedral as seen over
the walls of the Kremlin

The Tula Kremlin is closed on Mondays.
Luckily, we could peer in through the gates.

A shot of the Assumption Cathedral as seen
through the Kremlin gate

Cupolas of the Uspenskaya Church of the Uspenskaya Monastery

Uspenskaya Church of the Uspenskaya Monastery in full.
It was used as an archive during Soviet times, and is currently
undergoing restoration.

This church was also formerly part of the Uspensky Monastery.We were able to go into the basement (er, catacombs)
of this church. The basement currently serves as an
active church, while the rest of the church is restored.
It was used as a storage building during Soviet times.

Directly across from the Kremlin and the beautiful
cathedrals... a lovely monument to Soviet architecture.

Another shot of the Kremlin and the Assumption Cathedral
from a distance. The grey building is the Tula Samovar
Museum (also closed on Monday)

This is the belltower of the Vsekhsvyatsky Cathedral

Cupolas of the Vsekhsvyatsky Cathedral

Sadly there was a starving little kitten next to the above church.
We didn't have any food, but we were able to give it a lot of water.
I wish I could've taken him home. He looked like
precious little Echo's long lost brother.

Crankiness

2006-06-09T18:30:00.000+04:00

I'm sick. I feel pretty miserable, and that makes me feel pretty cranky mentally. But that fact aside, I feel I have some legitimate gripes here. This semester, all of my students are adults. For the most part, this is a lot better than teaching teens and youngsters who are only there because their parents want them to be there: Adults tend to be better-behaved, motivated, quiet and interested in learning. For the most part. But seriously, if you're going to spend the entire new grammar explanation out in the hallway talking on your cell phone... don't complain about how you don't understand the worksheets that use the new grammar. If you show up to class 30 minutes late, don't complain about not knowing the words taught during the first 30 minutes. Also, in the level I teach, we use Forrest Gump. We watch about 5 or 10 minutes at the end of each class. As much as I personally hate this film, it is actually a great movie for lower level English instruction and lessons in American culture and history. If you have to leave class 5-10 minutes early because you have something you have to do, fine. You're paying for the class, if you need to leave, that's cool. But don't say "Can I go home?" when I ask you to take out your Forrest Gump worksheets because you "don't like Forrest Gump." Well, I guess you can go home if you want, but Forrest Gump is going to be on the final exam, so if you want to pass you should probably stay. Who knew all-adult classes would be such a handful?

There. I'm done bitching. Sort of. There's some really good news in the field of medical research and women's health: The FDA has approved the Cervical Cancer (FPV) Vaccine! Unfortunately, The Food and Drug Administration has only licensed it for use in girls and women from the ages of 9 to 26. Have I mentioned how I'm twenty-seven? Grrrr. I'm going to go pop some DayQuil and go spend 135 minutes with another group of adults. Let's hope they're better than my early class.

Whatever you do - don't smile!

2006-06-08T14:59:00.000+04:00

Via Global Voices Online, I discovered that my post from the other day (when I was chased home by a random drunk fellow) was linked in conjunction with four posts by Brigid on Laughter in the Dark, concerning a similar experience by an American grad student in Volgograd. They're interesting to read - check them out:

Manhandled, Insulted, Bitter, Disgusted

Open Letter to Andrei

Dialogue with Andrei Continued

Second Open Letter to Andrei

Something interesting to note about both my experience and Brigid's: Both of the Maxims (who took me out to the Khrapovitsky estate on Tuesday) agreed that I had probably smiled at the man when he began talking to me, thus convincing him that I liked him and encouraging him to follow me home. This reminds me of something that I posted a long time ago, but which I'll re-post here, taken from the Lonely Planet guide to Russia and Belarus, 3rd edition:

Women are very likely to be followed and propositioned; I encountered this especially in Moscow. Eye contact is enough of an invitation for many men. Men in cars, on foot, in the subway, are all potential threats. Although I do not think the threat itself is very severe, it was certainly disconcerting for the first few days, until I had developed my hardened face.

Andrei, who commented several times on Laughter in the Dark, wrote:

Back to the essence of the problem. There’s one thing I always put very seriously when I instruct my American partners in Russia – NEVER SMILE TO PEOPLE WHO ARE NOT YOUR FRIENDS. Or at least to Russian polite smile (only with your lips). 80% of communication in every culture of the world is done non-verbally. In Russia smiling to strangers – in American way - could mean depending on the situation, “I’m an idiot” or “I want to be your friend” or “I find you very sexy” or “Don’t take my words seriously” or “I’m here not really for doing research but to have some fun”. Smiling is the major reason why American businessmen I know screw up almost all negotiations here. What Americans view as boorish behavior Russians regard as simply serious and businesslike. I bet 50 to 1 you were smiling to the punks on the boat, weren’t you? You thought it was “I don’t want to be rude but…” kind of smile. It wasn’t. Trust me – stop smiling to strangers, become a bit boorish and suspicious – then 99% of your problems would disappear. Be more aggressive and don’t be afraid to be rude when necessary. Learn from successful Russian women.

On one hand, I admit that it is culturally ingrained (for Americans) to smile at strangers who speak to them, whereas this is something that is simply not done in Russia. Therefore I can see how a friendly-American-smile might give the wrong impression.... However, I don't see how that justifies continued harassment when the woman in question (whether me, Brigid or someone else) is no longer smiling and is, instead, shouting "Leave me alone!" to him and "Please help!" to passers by. This seems to be a way of blaming the victim and excusing the agressor.

My friend Layla (a young Russian woman) wrote, "I NEVER respond when a guy starts talking to me or even acknowledge his presence. Especially in the evening." Which is essentially the advice advocated by Andrei and the Maxims.... Although even for someone as anti-social as I often can be, that just sounds strange and unfriendly. I don't know that I have any solutions or sensible comments, I just kind of wanted to point all of this out.

Adventure with the Maxims

2006-06-07T12:48:00.000+04:00

Yesterday evening, two American Home students, both named named Maxim (neither of whom have ever been my students - they're actually former students of Brooke), took me about 45 minutes outside of Vladimir to the abandoned estate of Count Khrapovitsky. Khrapovitsky was of the Russian nobility, and he built a gargantuan mansion in the countryside in the 19th century, as nobility tended to do... However, he based his architectural designs on medieval German castles, making this estate an oddity in Russia. After the Soviet revolution, the Khrapovitsky family fled to France, and the estate was turned into a college and during WWII it served as a hospital. At some point (I don't know when) it was ravaged by fire, and left to disintegrate in the countryside near the village of Muromtsevo. At some point, the property was purchased by some Germans who began to do some restoration work on the property. But unfortunately, they didn't get far before giving up. Not sure what, if anything, they're planning to do with the property. We arrived and found the door barred shut... but that didn't stop my companions, who were able to, shall we say, un-bar the door. We explored several floors, climbing the remains of rickety stair-cases and clambering around on broken rafters and boards placed over gaping holes in the floor. (Or in place of where the upper level floors used to be.) I should probably mention that this expedition also involved a lot of wine...

The older part of the Khrapovitsky mansion

The newer addition to the mansion

The new wing as viewed from the old wing, second floor.

In some places, the original decorations can still be seen on the walls.

Luckily the stairs were made of stone.

For the most part though, it's kind of gutted.

Church of the Holy Martyr Tsarina Alexandra
The construction of this church was also paid for by Khrapovitsky.

I like this shot.

And this one.

This "castle" was actually Khrapovitsky's stable.
It was modeled on an actual castle in (I think) Germany.

The rear of the stable.

In 2000 I went to the Russian town of Vyborg on the Finnish border.
I was told that there grew the only living cork tree in Russia.
They lied. There were many cork trees growing on the Khrapovitsky estate.

In front of the castle, there used to be two artificial pools, connected by fountains which cascaded into this natural pond. The natural pond is all that's left, although you can still make out the walls of the former artificial ponds in the brush in front of the castle.

Next to the natural pond was a pavilion for musicians.
This is all that's left of it.

After leaving the remains of the Khrapovitsky estate, we drove to what the Maxims referred to as a geyser, although it was not a geyser in the sense of Old Faithful. Instead it was a spring, which had been capped in such a way that the natural waters bubbling up created a fountain that fed a small river. Unfortunately, my pictures of the geyser didn't really turn out very well. Then we drove to a nice spot for swimming-n-shashlik, along a pretty spot of river. Of course, at this point it was just after 10pm, and getting a little dark and chilly... which didn't stop one of the Maxims from going in for a swim. I found a little fish which had been pushed up onto a rock by the current, and pushed him back into the water, letting him swim away.

The river area.

The waterfall, where the fish was stuck.

Afterwards, we went to something that in America I would consider a truck stop (although it was certainly much nicer than any truck stop I've ever stopped at in the States) and had shashlik and more wine. It was a fun evening, although I'm tired today. Not to mention that I seem to have come down with a head cold... sigh.

the little ass birds

2006-06-06T12:00:00.000+04:00

Joanna went home today. We're all going to miss her.
I took this picture last night at our final beer and beer-cheese gathering.

Yet another picnic in the nature

2006-06-05T13:30:00.000+04:00

Yesterday we went on yet another "picnic in the nature" with Constantine. It wasn't very different from the last time we went on such a picnic... we even went back to the same place as last time... although this time we went swimming. Of course, as it hadn't occurred to any of us to bring swimsuits, we went swimming in bras, panties and boxers. Those of us who had decided to go braless for the day went swimming in tank-tops and panties. Oh wait... that was just me. Lots of fun. (Sorry guys, I've been forbidden from posting the best of those pics!)

Jane and Joanna, with Joe in the background

Misha gave us piggy-back rides.

Joanna and Brooke test the waters.

Jane swims :-)

Vanya is our hero.

Something totally unrelated... My mother has started posting pictures on the internet. I never thought i'd see the day! But if you're interested, here they are!

No, I'm not hiding in a hole.

2006-06-04T12:52:00.000+04:00

Well, while I was really freaked out by what happened Friday night, I haven't let it stop me from enjoying my remaining days here in Russia. Yesterday afternoon, Brooke, Asya and I went to our belly dancing lesson at the sports club. Again, it was quite a workout. Belly dancing is something that is a LOT harder than it looks. It requires a lot of muscle strength, use of muscles that people rarely ever use - even if they work out all the time - and an insane amount of coordination. As I'm kind of lacking in these areas, belly dancing is pretty tough on me - and I'm very much in pain today. Of course, this isn't to say that belly dancing wasn't a lot of fun - on the contrary, it was fabulous! We got to dance with canes. Hot. Well, it was hotter when the instructor did it, as opposed to the rest of us, but we're getting there.

After belly dancing and a stint at the AH farting around on the internet, we went to Shesh Besh for the first of two Farewell to Joanna dinners. Joanna is the only teacher that the AH who is going to come back and teach here next year. Because of this, she isn't teaching during the summer semester and is going home to the States on Tuesday. Our farewell dinner at Shesh-Besh wasn't as fantastic as our forays into Shesh-Besh usually are. Now, we're all used to the fact that customer service in Russia (for the most part) is pretty much non-existant... but the service at S-B is usually excellent. That, coupled with the food, is why we go there so often. Sadly, while the food was definitely up to par last night, the service was terrible, and I wasn't really in the best of moods when we left. We took a long walk around the cathedrals after dinner, which was nice, although at that point I developed a splitting headache, and figured I should head home.

In theory, this afternoon we're heading back out into the nature for the second in our series of Farewell to Joanna parties... I hope so!

Youngmee bought a hot new dress at the Vladimir thrift store.

Left: Brooke, Youngmee, Kelli, Misha
Right: Jane, Joanna, Vova
Farewell to Joanna party

Cathedral of St. Dmitry at night

Uspensky Cathedral at night

Something scary.

2006-06-03T12:05:00.000+04:00

Something really scary happened to me last night. I was riding the bus home from work. It was about 9:45pm, although as the sun doesn’t set until after 10:00pm these days, it was still light outside. For some reason the bus was unusually crowded. I found myself squished up against a whole bunch of people, one of whom was a young man roughly my age. He asked me what my name was, which inevitably led to the “Where are you from?” set of questions. I answered him - no harm in that, right? I mean, I often have short, random conversations with people I don’t know while riding public transport. Granted, those conversations are usually along the lines of, “What time is it?” or “Can you tell me where such-and-such stop is?” although just yesterday morning I’d had a long conversation with a babushka about how poorly the bus driver was driving. Anyway, the young man asked me where I was going, and I told him “home” and then he suggested that he accompany me. I could tell that he had been drinking, so I told him no, and figured it was best to stop the conversation there. But then he started pressing the issue, insisting that he accompany me and asking why not when I told him “no” (er, нет) unequivocally. I started to get an unpleasant vibe from him, especially when he followed me as I tried to move away from him to another part of the bus. He asked me where my stop was, and I told him it was one further than my actual stop. When we reached my stop, I waited until everyone had exited/entered the bus, then jumped out the door as it was closing. Seriously, the door hit me on the ass on my way out. I was congratulating myself on my escape and scurrying towards home when I heard footsteps of someone running up behind me. The dude had apparently gotten the bus to stop and let him out. He ran up to me and grabbed my arm and said that he was going to come with me. I told him no and yanked my arm away - at which point the scene was repeated several times, each time growing rougher and scarier. Now, like I said, it was daylight. In public. We were literally surrounded by people. But did they respond when I cried out, “Please help me! I do not know this man!”? Some looked. Some laughed. Some ignored us all together. No one made any move to help. I noticed that there were two traffic cops parked alongside the road. I started moving towards them as quickly as I could, even though the guy was hindering my progress by continuing to grab at me, my clothes, my purse, my body. All the time I was shouting at him to stop and yelling “Please help!” The policemen started laughing. Now, I’ve been told many times that Russian policemen can rarely be turned to reliably in times of crisis, but what the fuck? I’m being assaulted by some strange drunk dude and they think it’s funny? At that point I was able to pull myself free of his grasp and ran for home (which was then less than half a block away). He ran after me, and stopped me two more times, but each time I pulled away and kept running. The door to our apartment building has a coded lock. You have to press a certain combination of buttons in order to unlock the door. I ran inside and slammed the door closed just as he was reaching out to grab it. Whew! At first I was very relieved to be inside the locked building... but then I heard him trying different combinations in order to get the door open! I ran up the stairs to my door, and began to worry that Nina M. might not be home. The door to our apartment has four locks. They can be easily opened from the inside, but take forever to unlock from the outside. I was digging in my purse for my keys even before I made it all the way up the stairs. Nina M. was slow in coming to the door, and I was already trying to unlock it by the time she ambled over and did it for me. I nipped inside and shut and locked the door. I didn’t want to tell Nina M. as I didn’t want her to worry. Instead I went and sat in my room and shook like a leaf and felt like I wanted to go home to America. This was the first time since coming to Russia in August that I truly wanted to go home. And it was also the first time I felt in danger here. I mean, I’ve been accosted by drunken dudes on the streets here before, but all I had to do was ignore them and walk away. Last night felt a lot like that night in Korea with the crazy masturbator, but at least I wasn’t alone then - Melissa was with me - and at least that dude ran away when we yelled at him. With the guy last night, yelling just seemed to encourage him. And yes, it gets worse. I’d been in my room, literally hiding under the covers for about five minutes when the doorbell rang. Nina M. went to the door and guess who? Luckily babushki are formidable and this one wasn’t about to let some strange drunk fellow looking for “the girl” into the apartment. She shut and locked the door and came and asked me if anyone had bothered me on the street, so I told her the story. The doorbell rang two more times, and each time she sent him away, the last time she threatened to call the police. (Although would that really do us any good?) He stood in the yard behind the building for about 15 minutes before finally giving up and going away. I was really upset... but the thing was, Nina M. wasn’t. She just laughed and said, “Oh, he just liked you! He was just too drunk to realize that he was bothering you.” WTF? I mean, it’s one thing when you’re in 3rd grade and the teacher tells you that little Jimmy who pulled your hair did so because he likes you... but that was the same tone Nina M used to describe the drunkard who was grabbing and groping me in the street!

Last night I was really freaked out about this. It still bothers me today, although I’m not feeling the need to pack my bags and run for home like I was when I got home yesterday. Plus, it’s such a beautiful day, it’s hard not to feel great. I took some cool bee photos on my way in this morning...

Shoe Shopping, Inflation, and the Demise of Dobryak

2006-06-02T13:55:00.000+04:00

The last time I was in Russia was in 2000. One of the things that stood out to me was how cheap and affordable everything was to me, as an American accustomed to American prices. At the time I was living in St. Petersburg (with St. Pete and Moscow being substantially more expensive than smaller Russian cities). Six years later, something that has struck me is how expensive things are in Vladimir. I have a bit of a weakness for shoes. For years now I have been perfectly willing to buy the bulk of my clothes from yardsales and thrift stores. This isn’t to say that I don’t occasionally splurge and buy something new, but it has to be something pretty incredible. But shoes…. I’m always willing to shell out for shoes. I’ve written a good bit about how Russians dress, but in case you’ve forgotten my Russian-shoe-assessments, let me just reiterate: Russian women’s shoes are incredible in a hot and sexy kinda way. Not necessarily comfortable or practical, but definitely hot. I bought a lot of shoes when I lived in St. Petersburg. The most expensive pair I bought cost me 900 rubles, and I agonized over whether or not it was worth it to shell out that much dough. I bought a pair of kickass, fur-lined winter boots and a pair of fur-lined winter shoes, each for around 450 rubles. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find said shoes when I was getting ready to come back to Russia, but I figured that in rural Vladimir they wouldn’t cost me too much. Well, the cheapest fur-lined winter boots in my size that I could run down in rural, cheaper-than-Peter Vladimir cost me 1800 rubles. My foolish gothic-bondage-porusskie boots were over 2000. (Okay granted, I bought some lime green sneakers for 330, but they are so *not* Russian-looking that they were probably on sale for being “uncool” even though I think they are awesome.) I’ve noticed that there’s been an increase of prices across the board here in Russia, and from what I’ve heard, salaries haven’t been keeping pace with inflation.

Dobryak is a huge shopping complex where (alas) I have spent far too much money. While in the States I’m all about thrift stores and yardsales, you simply can’t find the kind of clothing in malls in the States that you can find in Russia. It’s so unusual and absolutely awesome that I can justify buying the stuff by calling it a souvenir. Dobryak is generally my downfall, as it has a huge selection and is cheaper than most stores in the city. We were there last Saturday, and I saw two very cheap sweaters that I planned to come back and purchase after payday. Payday was yesterday, so this morning I swung by Dobryak on my way to work. It was empty. I don’t mean empty of customers, or even empty of goods… even the stalls which had been erected to display said goods were missing. Dobryak is undergoing a huge renovation. Soon it will be a fancier, more up-scale place to shop. This leaves me wondering where those who used to shop at Dobryak will now shop. Can they really afford the increase in prices that will inevitably accompany this renovation? And what happens to those who worked there?

Short walk after dinner

2006-05-31T11:59:00.000+04:00

Joanna's friend Joe from the States is visiting her this week, so after American Lunch we took him for a walk. We discovered a playground and some nice views....

Jane and Youngmee on the see-saw, Brooke on the swing

Joanna and Brooke on the see-saw

Youngmee, Vova, Brooke, Joanna, Jane

Back: Vova, Joanna, Brooke
Front: Jane and Youngmee
In front of the Golden Gates (built 1164)

Joanna and Joe in front of the Golden Gates

Svyato-Nikolo-Galeiskaya Church (built 1732)

In the fore: Svyato-Nikolo-Galeiskaya Church (built 1732)
In the rear: Khristo-Voznesenskaya Church (built 1724)

Okay, so I'm going to blog about food again.

2006-05-30T17:10:00.000+04:00

Today we had another "American Lunch" - this time, barbecued chicken. We had planned the thing to be an outside barbecue, but the weather wasn't particularly cooperative. Due to the steady drizzle, the eating was done inside, and the chicken was cooked in a makeshift tent erected by Alexei and Britt. Many pix:

We made four LARGE jars of sangria, using 10 bottles of wine

Britt and Alexei in the makeshift barbecue hut

One of the many pitchers of sangria, topped with fresh mint

We might have had to scrape the burnt stuff off the chicken...

We also might have had an accident with the cornbread...

Brooke, Youngmee and Joanna

Glen, Jane and Misha

Potato salad and baked beans - YUM!

Countdown and Korean Food

2006-05-29T11:09:00.000+04:00

Wow. Today is May 29th. I'm leaving Russia in exactly one month, which is somewhat incomprehensible to me. When I first arrived late June seemed so far in my future that it was difficult to imagine, and now it's right around the corner. I have so many good friends here... I can't imagine not seeing all of them every day, but in 31 days that's exactly what's going to happen. It's scary. I'm also sad about leaving Russia, especially not knowing when I'll be back. I'm sure I *will* be back to this country at some point, but I know that at the very least it's not going to be for a few years (unless I make it from Daegu to Vladivostok sometime, but Vladivostok is so vastly different from Vladimir that even that wouldn't be the same!). I am very excited about returning home, seeing my friends and family and cats again... not to mention seeing my new house for the first time :-) I'm planning to spend the bulk of July cleaning, painting, gardening and scavenging for thrift store furniture, which sounds like tons of fun to me. But it's just weird to think about living somewhere other than Vladimir, hanging out with people other than the AH crowd. And of course, I'll only be in the States for approximately one month before taking off again, this time to Daegu, South Korea.

I'm really excited about returning to Korea... and today made that excitement even more intense. Youngmee, goddess that she is, made us a fabulous Korean dinner. She made Bibimpap (a dish of rice mixed with yummy meat and veggies and hot red pepper paste) and those delicious Korean-pancake things that I can never remember the name of... It was delicious. As the ingredients were all purchased here in Russia, it didn't look exactly like bibimpap does in Korea, but it certainly tasted just right. And the fact that the red pepper paste was genuine (horded from previous Korean Air flights, no less!) gave it that extra kick that is so sorely lacking in Russian foods. For dessert, Brooke had the foresight to purchase apricots, strawberries and icecream at the market this morning, so the whole feast ended splendidly.

The master chef at work

Bibimpap, prior to being topped with fried egg

Red pepper from Korean Air

The master chef and her creation
(Melissa, you'll notice how this is properly mixed!)

Our group at dinner

Brooke prepares dessert

Dessert

Youngmee and me

Brooke and Layla

Britt and Alyona

Misha, Vanya and Joanna

Misha and Vanya

Save the Internet!

2006-05-28T17:34:00.000+04:00

The following appeared in the New York Times on May 28, 2006. [Click to view original]

Why the Democratic Ethic of the World Wide Web May Be About to End

By ADAM COHEN
Published: May 28, 2006

The World Wide Web is the most democratic mass medium there has ever been. Freedom of the press, as the saying goes, belongs only to those who own one. Radio and television are controlled by those rich enough to buy a broadcast license. But anyone with an Internet-connected computer can reach out to a potential audience of billions.

This democratic Web did not just happen. Sir Tim Berners-Lee, the British computer scientist who invented the Web in 1989, envisioned a platform on which everyone in the world could communicate on an equal basis. But his vision is being threatened by telecommunications and cable companies, and other Internet service providers, that want to impose a new system of fees that could create a hierarchy of Web sites. Major corporate sites would be able to pay the new fees, while little-guy sites could be shut out.

Sir Tim, who keeps a low profile, has begun speaking out in favor of "net neutrality," rules requiring that all Web sites remain equal on the Web. Corporations that stand to make billions if they can push tiered pricing through have put together a slick lobbying and marketing campaign. But Sir Tim and other supporters of net neutrality are inspiring growing support from Internet users across the political spectrum who are demanding that Congress preserve the Web in its current form.

The Web, which Sir Tim invented as a scientist at CERN, the European nuclear physics institute, is often confused with the Internet. But like e-mail, the Web runs over the system of interconnected computer networks known as the Internet. Sir Tim created the Web in a decentralized way that allowed anyone with a computer to connect to it and begin receiving and sending information.

That open architecture is what has allowed for the extraordinary growth of Internet commerce and communication. Pierre Omidyar, a small-time programmer working out of his home office, was able to set up an online auction site that anyone in the world could reach — which became eBay. The blogging phenomenon is possible because individuals can create Web sites with the World Wide Web prefix, www, that can be seen by anyone with Internet access.

Last year, the chief executive of what is now AT&T sent shock waves through cyberspace when he asked why Web sites should be able to "use my pipes free." Internet service providers would like to be able to charge Web sites for access to their customers. Web sites that could not pay the new fees would be accessible at a slower speed, or perhaps not be accessible at all.

A tiered Internet poses a threat at many levels. Service providers could, for example, shut out Web sites whose politics they dislike. Even if they did not discriminate on the basis of content, access fees would automatically marginalize smaller, poorer Web sites.

Consider online video, which depends on the availability of higher-speed connections. Internet users can now watch channels, like BBC World, that are not available on their own cable systems, and they have access to video blogs and Web sites like

YouTube.com, where people upload videos of their own creation. Under tiered pricing, Internet users might be able to get videos only from major corporate channels.

Sir Tim expects that there are great Internet innovations yet to come, many involving video. He believes people at the scene of an accident — or a political protest — will one day be able to take pictures with their cellphones that could be pieced together to create a three-dimensional image of what happened. That sort of innovation could be blocked by fees for the high-speed connections required to relay video images.

The companies fighting net neutrality have been waging a misleading campaign, with the slogan "hands off the Internet," that tries to look like a grass-roots effort to protect the Internet in its current form. What they actually favor is stopping the government from protecting the Internet, so they can get their own hands on it.

But the other side of the debate has some large corporate backers, too, like Google and Microsoft, which could be hit by access fees since they depend on the Internet service providers to put their sites on the Web. It also has support from political groups of all persuasions. The president of the Christian Coalition, which is allied with

Moveon.org on this issue, recently asked, "What if a cable company with a pro-choice board of directors decides that it doesn't like a pro-life organization using its high-speed network to encourage pro-life activities?"

Forces favoring a no-fee Web have been gaining strength. One group,

Savetheinternet.com, says it has collected more than 700,000 signatures on a petition. Last week, a bipartisan bill favoring net neutrality, sponsored by James Sensenbrenner, Republican of Wisconsin, and John Conyers Jr., Democrat of Michigan, won a surprisingly lopsided vote in the House Judiciary Committee.

Sir Tim argues that service providers may be hurting themselves by pushing for tiered pricing. The Internet's extraordinary growth has been fueled by the limitless vistas the Web offers surfers, bloggers and downloaders. Customers who are used to the robust, democratic Web may not pay for one that is restricted to wealthy corporate content providers.

"That's not what we call Internet at all," says Sir Tim. "That's what we call cable TV."

Bein' Girly

2006-05-28T15:41:00.000+04:00

Yesterday afternoon, Layla took me and Brooke to the gym for *real* belly dancing lessons with her coach. It was awesome. I'm really glad that we did so many lessons with Layla first, though, because otherwise we would have been totally lost. As it was, we were able to pretty much follow along, and we weren't (always) the worst dancers. It was a lot of fun, although today all muscles remotely connected to my abdomen are rather sore. I'm going to try and go back as many times as I can before I levae, although given my plans/schedule, I may not get to go as often as I would like.

After we left the gym, we rode over to Dobryak, and I managed to get in and out without spending any money. Of course, this is mainly because I'm low on funds and payday isn't until Wednesday. I did assist Brooke in the purchase of two really fantastic jackets, and I'm kinda jealous. Afterwards, the three of us went to a thrift store (I had no idea there was one in Vladimir - much less so close to my house!) and I acquired many new shirts, a dress and a skirt for under 200 rubles (so less than $7), which made me feel pretty good.

Then we went to the AH and collected Youngmee and Misha and went to Shesh-Besh (our favorite restaurant in Vladimir) for hachipuri and Azerbaijani wine. After splitting three pitchers of wine among the five of us, it was time to staggger home. Fun Day. I'm going to miss these guys!

Jane, Layla, Misha, Youngmee

Brooke and Jane: New thrift-store shirts

Layla and Misha:
The Nature of Man

Because Gosha's always so sexy.

Last night's sunset

2006-05-25T12:25:00.000+04:00

Vladimir gets some spectacular sunsets at times. Unfortunately, downtown Vladimir isn't really the best place to capture stunning vistas... But I do the best I can. Enjoy!

Reflection in the windows of the Vladimir Drama Theater

For your viewing pleasure

2006-05-22T13:22:00.000+04:00

Gosha didn't seem to realize that the box was too small.

Then he curled up in the paper cutter.
It looks like we chopped his head off, but I promise we didn't.

The sign reads Малая Сцена,
which means small stage or small hall.
(Theater Square, Vladimir)

Vladimir's Trinity Church at sunset

Entering the Assumption Monastery in Murom

The monastery's cupolas

Crazy mushrooms in Murom

Weekend in Murom

2006-05-22T11:34:00.000+04:00

This weekend five of us (Joanna, Kelli, Brooke, Youngmee and I) went to Murom, an ancient town in the Vladimir region which dates back to the ninth century. We went for the purpose of meeting with students from the Murom Institute of Vladimir State University. We had a long round-table session with a large group of students, during which we talked about a wide variety of topics. We were treated to several delicious meals, put up with wonderful host families for the evening, and treated to a tour of the city's historic sites in the morning.

Round-table discussion

Round-table close-up

We were each interviewed for Murom TV

The group...

We had these lovely pirogi shaped like pigs...

Cupolas of the Trinity Convent

Trinity Convent

Annunciation Monastery

St. Nicholas Church

Cupolas of the St. Nicholas Church

Epic hero Ilya Muromets

Rural life within the city limits

Anna (my host), me, and Natalia (director of the program)

My new suit

2006-05-18T12:18:00.000+04:00

Since I’ve been back...

2006-05-14T19:36:00.000+04:00

It’s always hard to adjust to life after a vacation... and when the vacation in question is one as insanely memorable as our trip to Siberia, readjustment is even tougher. Nonetheless, I’ve been home for a week and I have managed to settle back into life here in Vladimir.

Classes started on Wednesday, May 10th. I’m teaching two classes, both third-level, on Mon-Wed-Fri. Each class lasts two hours and fifteen minutes, which is a LONG time to spend teaching lower level grammar, let me tell you! But, I suppose this *is* the intensive summer semester after all. I think we’re all struggling a little with planning such marathon lessons, but we’re getting there.

On Saturday some of the AH students (namely Constantine and Igor, the same fellows who took us out on our very first party in the nature back in October) invited all of the teachers out for a “party in the nature” as they call it. I have to admit that the phrase “party in the nature” no longer sounds strange to me (have I been here too long?) and I found myself trying to remember what I would have called such an event this time last year. A picnic in the woods, perhaps?

Anyhow, we drove about 30 or so minutes south of Vladimir and out into a wooded patch between a creek and some farmland. The weather was perfect, the scenery was gorgeous and we had a fantastic time. Pictures speak louder than words, so here you go:

The scenery was gorgeous.

There were lots of little spring-fed creeks.

And the birch trees were all topped with bright green.

Constantine and I, shooting BB guns

Joanna is a much better shot than I am.

Joanna spent a lot of time with Constantine's guns.

At one point, they were skeet shooting with cans of tonic...

This is my favorite shot.

I took it from here, actually.

This old man spent the day fishing.

Jane: Immortal Elf Princess

Brooke, Youngmee and Jane: Girlies with beer

Hike!

Constantine kills dinner.
(Don't worry, that's actually just sauce)

Our group.

Joanna caught a lizard.

Brooke, Frisbee Princess

Youngmee, Frisbee Lady-in-Waiting
(you know, it goes with the Princess thing...)

We got a little sunburnt...

The sunset was spectacular.

Another view.

Sunset, reflecting off trees.

Reflections in the lake at dusk.

On Sunday, Youngmee and I met up with Layla at Dobryak, as Youngmee needed to buy a belt. After buying the belt, the three of us went to Cafe Olymp, a little Azerbaijani cafe tucked away in the back of Dobryak, where we dined on hingali (a yummy dish of beef, garlic and sour cream on homemade pasta-like dough) and baklava. That place is awesome - if you’re ever in the area, be sure to give it a try!

This morning I went back to Dobryak for the purpose of trying on a really nice business suit which I had seen on Sunday. Now, I don't really plan on being in a position where I *need* a business suit (of course, I will most certainly teach in it because it ROCKS), but it cost roughly $80, which is a lot of money for me... but for a good quality, five piece woman's business suit, that's not bad. Plus, let's just say they don't make clothes like this in the States. Imagine a black business suit with red pinstripes. (It came with both a skirt and with pants) Imagine a red, button-up, collared business shirt. Now imagine a black vest with red pinstripes that goes over the red shirt and under the jacket. Normal, right? Now, change the vest into a corset. Welcome to business attire in Russia, ladies and gentlemen. This thing is AWESOME. And, in case I'm ever working in some conservative work environment, it does look like a normal suit when you don't add the corset. Not that I'm ever planning on doing that again. Tee hee.

Siberian Adventure Part 4: Olkhon to Irkutsk to Moscow

2006-05-14T17:47:00.000+04:00

On May 6th, following our final delicious meal at Solnechnaya, we loaded into Valeriy’s van and were driven to the ferry crossing at the Olhkon Straits. While the ice was still frozen along the shorelines, there was a wide swath of melted water in between. We played on the ice for a little while then loaded into the boat to cross.

We took this hovercraft across.

The view from the ferry crossing.

I'm doing... something.

And they're doing... something else.

This time, it's yoga.

Valeriy, our host at Solnechnaya

Crossing from ice to water

Lake Baikal in liquid form

The boat took us across to a point just south of the small village of Sakhyurta. We said goodbye to Valeriy and loaded into a van. It picked up a few more passengers and then drove for about an hour. We reached another tiny Siberian village and the driver stopped the van. It was 2:00. He said that we would stay there until 3:00 in order to wait for more passengers. I must say that this was one of the most uneventful hours of the trip. When 3:00 rolled around, we discovered we had a full van-load of people. We had to strap all of our backpacks to the roof of the van, and then squish inside like sardines for the three hour ride to Irkutsk. I had taken some Meclazine at the start of the ride, but even though I was drowsy as a result, I was unable to sleep due to the cramped quarters and the rough roads. Let’s just say that I was feeling pretty cranky by the time we arrived in Irkutsk.

We had booked rooms an Irkutsk hostel called Baikalhostel for 350 rubles ($13) per night. It was quite a good deal money wise (or at least it was before the dollar started falling!), although for people (like us) interested in seeing the city, it was in a terrible location, far away from the center. The hostel itself was clean and comfortable, but after Solnechnaya, it didn’t offer much to write home about.

After checking in, we went out for dinner (pizza) and then tried to find our way to the center. Unfortunately, we got a bit lost and ended up wandering around trying to guess in what direction the center might lie. I must admit that I was still feeling pretty cranky at this point - from the ride, from having exchanged the paradise of Olkhon for a big Russian city, and from my knee, which was still paining me - and being lost wasn’t making me feel any better. We stopped and asked a random man for directions (turned out that by that point we weren’t too off course) and thanks to his advice, we reached Karl Marx Street, one of the city’s main drags. We had been walking along Karl Marx for about 10 minutes, when someone came running up behind us - it was the man we had asked for directions! He said that he had decided to come and show us around his city, because we shouldn’t be walking around a strange city without a guide. We all thought that this was a little bizarre, and kept worrying that at some point he would try to solicit money from us or something, but nothing like that happened. Guess he was just being a really nice guy. He pointed out a lot of the landmarks along Karl Marx Street, and walked with us for over an hour before depositing us at a cafe. Very random.

Sunset over the Angara River, as seen during our walk.

The next morning, we decided that we wanted to go to the Decembrist museums and to the Faberge exhibit at the art museum. Don’t know what I mean by Decembrist? Click here. The two Decembrist museums are located in former homes of actual Decembrist exiles, and both were quite interesting. I must say that I lost a lot of sympathy for the Decembrists while viewing the exhibits. Yes, they lost the bulk of their wealth and were exiled to Siberia... but even so their lifestyles were so much more opulent than mine will ever be. Ahh well...

Decembrist Museum #1: Trubetskoi House

Decembrist Museum #2: Volkonskiy House

After leaving the Decembrist museums and lunching on Chinese, we went to the Faberge exhibit. Unfortunately cameras were not allowed inside, so I don’t have any photos of the intricately designed eggs. (Most of the eggs we saw appear on this page) Again, opulence is the best word to describe this. The magnitude of the wealth of the tsars never ceases to astound me.

We spent the remainder of the afternoon walking around and taking pictures of the city. I was in a *much* better frame of mind that day, and truly began to appreciate the city. Irkutsk has a very European feel, and all of the European style architecture and wide streets reminded me heavily of St. Petersburg.

Karl Marx Street, Irkutsk, Siberia, Russia

The center of the city is full of traditional, old, wooden architecture.
What differentiates it from the norm is how close the window are to the street!

The Irkutsk History Museum is located in an incredibly interesting building.
Sadly, we didn't have time to go inside.

Random pink church.

Group hug on Karl Marx!

I have a thing for Yuri Gagarin.

Joanna, Youngmee and me.
On a bench near the Angara river.

Some guidebooks say that this is the only Gothic building in Siberia.
Others disagree. I'm just telling you what they said.

Spasskaya Church

Thanks to Maxim, I now know what this church is called:
Bogoyavlensky Church

Me, Misha and Joanna.

The Bogoyavlensky Church church again.

A close-up shot of the Bogoyavlensky Church.

There was a lot of environmentalist graffiti in the city, mostly pertaining to the controversial oil pipeline that had been planned to run alongside Lake Baikal. (Come on! In a seismically active region... are they nuts?) Luckily on April 26, 2006, Russia’s President Putin decreed that the pipeline must be moved a minimum distance of 40km north of the lake. (To read more about the pipeline, click here. For more on the dangers threatening the lake, click here.)

"No Pipeline!"

"And you're quiet?"

In the morning we took a cab to the Irkutsk airport for our flight back to Moscow. (We flew on Siberian Airlines, and I would definitely recommend them. Far better than Aeroflot!) While in line for passport control, an American businessman overheard us talking. Upon learning that we were Americans living and working in Russia he invited us to lunch with him in Moscow. We accepted and had a very nice lunch with him at an American-diner-style restaurant in Moscow. (The restaurant was called the Starlite Diner http://www.starlite.ru/eng/index.shtml and seriously, if you’re an American feeling homesick, go there. I have never eaten at a restaurant overseas and felt that much like I was in the States. It was surreal. And the food was tasty too. If you’re interested, it’s located in the Aquarium Park, right behind the Tchaikovsky Theater near Metro Moscovskaya.)

After lunch, we sprinted to the train station for our 2 1/2 hour train ride back to Vladimir. Thus ends our vacation. Конец. ;-)

Siberian Adventure Part 3: Adventures on Olkhon Island

2006-05-11T14:18:00.000+04:00

[Note: This is a very long post and has a lot of pictures. Because of this, your connection might time out before all of the pictures load. If this happens, just right click on the spot where the image should be and select "show picture" - all the pictures will load, I promise!]

I suppose that this would be a good spot to tell you a little about our destination. Lake Baikal is the world’s deepest lake (over 1600 meters at its deepest point) and it contains around 1/5 of the world’s fresh water. That’s more water than in all of America’s Great Lakes combined. The lake is an amazing habitat, home to large numbers of aquatic plants and animals found only in Lake Baikal, including the delicious omul fish and the adorable and endangered nerpa seal (yes, the one Misha wanted to eat). For more info on Lake Baikal, click here. Olkhon Island is the largest Island on the lake, stretching roughly 72 kilometers, and running north-east to south-west (although it’s only 15 kilometers wide). It is the traditional home to Buryats (the indigenous people of the region) and although it was discovered by Russian explorers in the 17th century, it was only colonized by Russians in the Soviet era. Currently the island is home to Buryats, Tatars and Russians. Only about 1200 people live on the island year-round, although apparently as many as 300 people/day visit the island during the summer.

Anyhow, we arrived at our hostel, Solnechnaya, and immediately set out for a walk along the shore of the lake, where we took many photos, climbed trees and played on the ice.

Our cabin

The view from our hostel

Trees on the shoreline

I liked the way this one looked a lot.

Girls on ice.

Frozen ice waves lined the beach.

During the winter, when the ice is firm enough, there is an ice-road, where vehicles drive to and from the island. At the point where the now impassable ice road, thinned from use, had begun to melt, Joanna worked up the nerve to wade in. She wasn’t in there for too long, and said that this was the coldest water she’d ever felt. Coming from someone who took a dip in the Gulf of Finland last January, that’s saying a lot!

Joanna freezes.

Youngmee touches the waters of Baikal

We climbed along the edge of a nearby cliff... and then for some unknown reason we decided to climb up said cliff. I have taken to calling this the Cliff of Death, as we nearly slid to our deaths, and as I totally wrecked my knees again (although I didn’t feel it until the next morning), and when we reached the top, I kind of collapsed onto the ground for a while in relief and exhaustion.

Climbing the Cliff of Death

The triumph of victory!
Youngmee, Misha, Joanna and Jane
after climbing th Cliff of Death

Once we recovered from our climb, we set off for the nearby rock formation known as Shamanka in Russian and Burkhan in Buryat. Burkhan is a sacred spot to shamanistic Buryats, and is supposedly a focal point of shamanic energy. It was incredibly beautiful.

Burkhan (Shamanka)

Burkhan (Shamanka)

On the cliff overlooking Burkhan

We returned to our hostel for our first meal. Solnechnaya provided us with a cabin and three delicious meals a day for 650 rubles ($24) per night, which was an incredible deal. For those of you accustomed to traveling in Russia, I should warn you that the island lacks running water - so be prepared for pit toilets (pit squatters no less!) and “running water” powered by gravity. However, in compensation for the lack of modern amenities, this place feeds you quite well. Every meal was a mouth watering experience of delight. We ate a lot of omul, one of the fish endemic to Olkhon. I thought it was fantastic - and I don’t even like fish! After dinner, we hit up the Russian banya. I *love* banyas. You sit in the steam room and bake, while washing/scrubbing yourself using buckets of water (varying from scalding to frigid), and you get to hang out naked with your friends. It really doesn’t get any better.

The next morning I awoke to a terrible pain in my right knee. This is the same problem I developed on our trip to St. Petersburg last November, although not as severe, and only in one knee this time.) Nonetheless, after an amazing breakfast, I set out with the rest of the group on an excursion arranged for us by Valeriy. (It cost 600 rubles ($22) per person, but it lasted the entire day and was utterly incredible and most definitely worth the price.)

We all piled into the van (the one which had the flat tire the day before) And set off into the wilds of Olkhon with Ilyas, our guide. Ilyas was an ethnic Tatar from the area, with an incredible history (he had been in the Soviet Army and a Communist Party Apparatchik who quit the party in the mid-80s because he was tired of being lied to and having to lie to others. The man was incredibly smart and knew a lot about the history of the island and was very interesting to talk to in general. He was an exceptional guide, although it was all done in Russian... so non-Russian speakers would need a translator.) None of the roads on Olkhon are paved, and when you go north of Khuzhir the “roads” become little more than deep ruts through the wilderness... which our guide took at a frightening pace, quite frequently while looking back over his shoulder at us, narrating.

Our first stop was a holy totem, consecrated by Buryat Shamans. The totem is located in the center of two stone circles (not standing stones, but flat stones, embedded in the earth), which are approximately 100-150 yards in diameter. The inner circle represents earthly life, and the outer circle represents the cosmos and spiritual life. It is tradition for the locals to leave offerings at the totem, either by tying something on the totem itself or by leaving money, wine or cigarettes at its the base. Ilyas left a cigarette, and then we traveled on.

Holy totem.

We came to another site with four totems, each of which represented a family in the nearby farming collective. Passersby left offerings of a similar nature here too, in order to honor those families and the spirits of the ancestors of those families.

Totems representing the four families.

Later we visited the sire of an old fishing wharf and cannery (long since burned down), and saw the one remaining building from a political prisoner camp formerly located on the island. (If I’m ever a political prisoner, can it *please* be on Olkhon?)

The old fishing wharf.

Then we drove on to see a variety of spectacular views...

Three Brothers rock formation

View of Hoboi, the northern tip of the island

Misha, Youngmee, Jane, Joanna and Ina at the Three Brothers

View of Hoboi from a distance

Me, atop a rock

We drove as far north as possible, and then our driver pointed out a path that we could take to the tip of Hoboi. Unfortunately, at that point my right knee was killing me, and I figured that if I was lucky enough to make it out to the tip of Hoboi, I probably wouldn’t be able to make it back. So, while the others walked out to the tip of Hoboi, I took pictures of my surroundings and then had a short nap in the sun.

Hoboi from as close as I got, sigh...

View from where I took my nap...

Similar view.

These purple flowers were everywhere and quite awesome.
I wish I knew what they were called!

Ilyas had driven off and parked the van out of the wind in order to cook our lunch. When the others returned from Hoboi, I hobbled down the hill to the van, and discovered Ilyas cooking fish soup (with omul, of course) over an open flame. We each received a whole fish in our soup, and learned that the fish eye pops out of the socket, that means the fish is cooked. I know it looks scary, but it was actually quite delicious.

Lunch cooking.

When the eyeball pops out, you know the fish is cooked.

After lunch, we sat for a while on a cliff overlooking the lake.

Our next stop was the Man and the Woman who form the Lover’s Heart rock formation. The larger rock on the left is the “man” and the smaller one on the right is the “woman.” The views from here were, of course, spectacular.

Lover's Rock.

View from Lover's Rock

Then we drove to a tiny settlement (too small even to be called a village) in a valley along the shore. In this settlement, a seismograph is located. Ilyas didn’t seem to know why (“To give jobs to students.”), but after doing a little research, I can guess why. See, Lake Baikal is located at the separation point of two tectonic plates. There are many teeny-tiny earthquakes here every day, as the crack between the plates widens. Every now and then there are earthquakes in this area registering 3-4 on the Richter scale... and, about 160 years ago, there was a huge earthquake in this area which caused a huge part of the southern shore (near the Selenga Delta) to fall into the lake. In a few million years, give or take, Baikal will become the world’s newest ocean.

Valley where the seismograph is located.

That was the last stop on our excursion, and the last of our adventures that day. The next morning, we arose and decided to explore the village of Khuzhir. The village is tiny, and has only a handful of stores. I purchased souvenirs (rocks from the lake painted to look like nerpas and shamans). We walked down to the wharf, which to me seemed depressingly beautiful and utterly abandoned, although perhaps it is a functional area once the ice has melted. We explored the remains of another burnt out fish cannery, then climbed up to the top of the hill to view the small (and very new) Orthodox church, and to photograph the harbor from a good vantage point.

The empty streets of Khuzhir

Mountains, as seen from Khuzhir

Old boats in the wharf

View of Baikal from above the village

At that point, it was time for lunch. Not willing to miss out on a meal at Solnechnaya, we scurried back. After lunch, the weather grew cold, damp and unpleasant. We didn’t want to spend too much time outside, so we decided to see if the museum was open. We had been told by Valeriy that the museum was excellent for a museum covering life on an island with such a tiny population. The museum is named after a Mr. Revyakin, a teacher and founder of the museum, and it contains exhibits representing the traditional lifestyles of the Buryats and the original Russian settlers, as well as exhibits on the plant and animal life endemic to Baikal. To be honest, the best part of the museum was its docent, a tiny woman (shorter than me and Youngmee) in her upper sixties, who was passionate about the museum and its contents, and who turned out to be the daughter of Revyakin, the museum’s founder. After hearing how and when the five of us had crossed the lake, she had us gather around an old motorcycle that was on display, and she told us the following story:

The motorcycle belonged to Mr. Revyakin. One day in early May (!) Revyakin and a friend decided to cross the ice on his motorcycle, as the ice seemed thick and firm. The friend was carrying a large and heavy bag of fish, which was strapped to his back. They were in the process of crossing the lake when suddenly the ice broke, and the two men and the motorcycle fell through. Revyakin was able to climb free, then he had to cut the bag of fish off of his friend’s back, in order to pull him out of the ice. The two men were lucky to reach the shore alive. Two years later, a fisherman “caught” the motorcycle in his net. Revyakin cleaned it up, put some gasoline in the tank, and it worked! The moral of the story for us was that under no circumstances were we to cross by motorcycle on our way back to the mainland. Luckily for us, she told us that the ice at the narrow Olkhon Straits would be melted enough for us to cross the following day by boat.

We returned to Solnechnaya for dinner, after which the others walked down to Burhan to watch the sunset. (Sadly, I had to remain in the cabin resting my knee.) After the sun set, it was time for our final Banya together at Solnechnaya. By this point we were all feeling quite silly... and brought our cameras into the banya. We took a lot of hilarious (though tasteful) nudie pics (or semi-nude, with strategically placed buckets and towels and such) although sorry... I’m only posting two on the blog ;-)

Jane and Joanna in the banya. Don't ask about the hats.

We took great care to pose this one. It's entitled,
"Stoking the Fires of Socialist Realism"
(That's Joanna, by the way!)

Stay tuned for Part 4: Olkhon to Irkutsk to Moscow!

Siberian Adventure Part 2: From Irkutsk to Olkhon

2006-05-11T11:41:00.000+04:00

We arrived in Irkutsk at approximately 9:30am on May 3rd. Lida, with whom we’d been corresponding via email regarding our stay on Olkhon Island, met us at the platform (holding a sign which read ‘Jane Keeler’ no less!) I had been under the impression that Lida actually worked at Solnechnaya (our hostel/camp on the island), and therefore expected that she would accompany us to Olkhon. Instead, she guided us to a nearby marshrutka (mini-van taxi-bus) and told us to take it to the end of the line (roughly 4 hours away) at which point we would be shown a different marshrutka to take. The marshrutka contained several Russians, and Norwegian (her name was Ingvild, although we called her Ina, as none of us was capable of pronouncing her name correctly). Ina was the only other tourist in the van. The driver of our marshrutka, like many Russian drivers, had no concept of rules of the road: our trip was nothing but high speeds and passing blind, uphill, or blatantly into oncoming traffic. Did I mention we were in this van for approximately four hours? Aaack! Luckily, the scenery was beautiful... especially the closer we got to Lake Baikal.

View from the marshrutka

Another view from the marshrutka

We stopped at several tiny Siberian villages along
the way to drop people off and pick people up.

This was our first view of Lake Baikal
from the hill above the village of Sakhyurta

The colors were absolutely surreal.

Eventually we arrived at a small village called Sakhyurta, located on the shore of Lake Baikal. At this point, the driver of our marshrutka told the four of us, Ina and the two Russian girls headed for Olkhon that we needed to hop into a different van… one akin to the marshrutka from Hell. It wasn’t really a marshrutka at all, but an ancient van with front seats and nothing at all in the back! The Russian girls snagged the front seats, leaving the five of us to bounce around in the back of the death-van as we set off for the north-western shore of Baikal.

After about 30-40 minutes, the van bumped up to the shore of the still-frozen lake, and our driver informed us that we would need to wait there for our guide, who would take us across the ice. The five of us got out and took a lot of photos (while the driver and the two Russians looked on with scorn – stupid tourists!) and played around a little on the ice... which we noticed was cracking and groaning and moving up and down beneath our feet. Ina looked at the ice and said, “I’m Norwegian and I know ice. This ice isn’t stable.” We were able to look into the distance and see the Island of Olklhon rising up against the horizon approximately five kilometers away, but at that point we were beginning to think that we wouldn’t be able to make it to our destination. Should we really cross the world’s deepest lake on unstable ice? (Lida had told us that if the lake turned out to be impassable, we’d be put up in similar accommodations on the northern shore. While that would have been better than nothing, we really wanted to reach Olkhon. And after all, something better than nothing is giving up.)

The frozen north-western shore of Lake Baikal

The marshrutka from hell

We didn’t give up. Soon we saw a small red motorcycle with a sidecar approaching us from across the ice. It turned out that the passenger of the car was Valeriy, the owner of our hostel/camp. While the driver of the motorcycle set off with the two Russian girls, Valeriy reassured us. He told us that he was a Buryat (the indigenous people of the area, closely related to the Mongols), a native of the area, and had crossed the ice many times. We figured that if he would be our guide, we would be okay.

We put on our coats and backpacks and set off across the ice on foot. Walking on the ice was incredibly difficult for all of us, although more so for me, for some reason. I fell behind, and was continuously slipping. I was terrified that if I fell, I would go right through the ice. Luckily, Valeriy (who is a pro when it comes to walking on ice) noticed that I was having trouble, and gave me his arm. It was a lot easier to walk on the ice when I had him providing support.

It looked and felt like an Arctic expedition!

We had walked approximately half a kilometer or so when the man with the motorcycle returned. I climbed into the sidecar, and many bags and a fur coat were piled into the sidecar with me. Youngmee and Ina were instructed to climb onto the motorcycle behind the driver. We were all quite skeptical, but as the driver and Valeriy seemed confident, we figured that it would be safe. Our ride across the lake was thrilling in a somewhat frightening way, although I didn’t feel at any point like I might die. The driver of the motorcycle let us off about half a kilometer from the shore, and went back to collect Misha, Joanna and Valeriy. The three of us were quite happy to have made it across the lake in one piece, and celebrated by taking lots of photos... although my foot did go through the ice on the way to the shore!

All aboard the crazy motorbike!

The motorcycle sets off to pick up our companions.

Yay! I made it to the other side!

Soon the motorcycle arrived bearing our companions. We were surprised to see it drive all the way up onto the shore! Misha and Joanna were pale as sheets and clearly ecstatic to have reached the shore. Apparently, Valeriy had told them that the motorcycle was safe as long as the ice was slippery. Apparently, slippery ice = hard ice. When they began their ride, they started off on hard, slippery ice... but soon drove into areas of mushy, slushy ice. Valeriy began to yell at the driver, saying things like, “What are you doing?” and “Don’t drive over your own tracks! That’s weakened ice - we’ll fall through!” The driver’s response? “I’ve never fallen through yet!” No wonder they were terrified! But, I guess the driver knew what he was doing after all - we all crossed the lake without injury or death! (Later, several residents of the island told us we were crazy for having crossed the lake when and how we did!)

We were quite relieved to be on dry land, and quickly loaded our bags into yet another ancient van (at least this one had seats!) and prepared to ride to our camp. The van made it about 500 yards when one of the tires went flat. While Valeriy did have a spare tire, he didn’t have a jack... not a problem! Misha and Valeriy walked back down to the shore and rummaged through an abandoned shack in search of things to use to make a jack (in the interim, the rest of us photographed the scenery).

The view was unbelievable.

The returned with some boards and a large rusted metal object of uncertain origin. When the makeshift jack was erected, I got to stand on a board, thus leveraging the van up enough to change the tire. Russian ingenuity is awe inspiring.

Homemade Jane-Jack :-)

Joanna and Youngmee pose with the tire

The rest of the journey to Solnechnaya (located in Khuzhir, the largest settlement on Olkhon) was uneventful... although further adventures ensued upon our arrival. Stay tuned for Part 3: Adventures on Olkhon!

Siberian Adventure Part 1: The Trans-Siberian Railroad

2006-05-09T13:09:00.000+04:00

At 2:30 in the morning on Sunday, April 30th, Joanna, Youngmee, Misha and I boarded the #10 Moscow to Irkutsk train line. We were able to board in Vladimir, so we didn’t have to start our trip to the east by heading first to Moscow. All in all we spent approximately 72 hours on the train, not disembarking for good until approximately 9:30am on May 3rd. Now, when you spend 72 hours on a train, all the hours (and days!) tend to blur together, so it’s hard for me to write about this portion of our trip in terms of what happened on day one, day two, etc. Instead, I’ll give you a general overview of our time on the train, followed it up by some photos to give you an idea of what the trip was like.

For starters, I have a tendency to get motion-sick, and trains are one of the worst offenders in the making-Jane-ill category. After several trips (Costa Rica 2002 and South Korea 2004) when Dramamine (the so-called “less drowsy formula” no less!) sent me rapidly off into the land of unconsciousness, I discovered a product called Meclazine HCL, which works really well. It does make me sleepier than I usually am (and if you know me, you know that frequent naps are a huge part of my lifestyle) although it’s nothing like the impact of Dramamine. And, it keeps me from getting sick. So, with my nice little regimen of Meclazine HCL, I was able to be healthy for the 72 hours of Trans-Siberian travel, and the time went by a lot faster for me than for the others, as I had a greater ability to nap.

I must admit that the scenery along the Trans-Siberian between Vladimir and Irkutsk was not all that exciting: lots of plains, lots of birch-forests, and periodic decaying villages clustered around decaying and/or abandoned factories. It was interesting to see, although if you’re someone interested in traveling by train to see the sights from your window, I wouldn’t really recommend this stretch of railroad.

Of course, that’s not to say that we didn’t enjoy the trip. For starters, we traveled platzkart, or third class. On our train, nearly all of the foreign tourists were traveling in second-class, kupe... and to be honest, we laughed at them. If you get a chance to travel on the Trans-Siberian, go platzkart. It you travel kupe, you’ll be in an enclosed compartment with three other people who may or may not make for decent traveling companions. (And, of course, if you’re traveling in a group of four, you won’t have any interactions with Russians at all!) Meanwhile, platzkart bunks are open to the entire train car (somewhat like a dormitory on wheels) with a grouping of four (two up, two down) on one side and one up, one down on the other (if that makes sense). You’ll get the opportunity to meet your neighbors and have some fantastic conversations.

We were lucky in that our neighbors, especially two women named Elena and Valentina, were incredibly nice. Elena taught us how to play the Russian card game durak, and was a great conversation companion. It turned out that Valentina was born on Olkhon (our destination), and she came and joined us as soon as she overheard that we were on our way there. She told us a lot about the island... including that we should eat nerpa (the endangered freshwater seal which lives only in Lake Baikal)! We asked it if was illegal to eat nerpa, and she said yes, but that anything is possible if you try. (This led Misha to ask all over the island if we could eat nerpa, a comment which was pretty much received with shock by everyone he said this to...)

The Trans-Siberian trains stop at regular intervals along the way to pick up and drop off passengers. Some stops are very brief (one to five minutes in length) while others are longer, roughly twenty-five minutes long. We got off occasionally at the longer stops to purchase food and to stretch our legs. My favorite was Krasnoyarsk, because the weather was gorgeous and the view was spectacular. (If you’re interested in actually *seeing* the cities you’re traveling through, it’s a bit of a ticket buying nightmare, which was the reason we opted for the straight shot to Irkutsk.)

If you’re traveling the Trans-Siberian, be sure to bring a lot of food. We brought along plenty, and in many ways the first seventy-two hours of our vacation were like one giant rolling picnic. The train does have a restaurant car, but it’s quite overpriced. Each car has a samovar, providing free hot water and cups, so be sure to bring along your tea bags and your ramen. We also came equipped with a whole roasted chicken (courtesy of Nina M), sausages, cheeses, breads, chocolate bars, peanuts, and several liters of drinking water. We shared our food and drinks with our neighbors, and they in turn did the same. It was such a fun and relaxing atmosphere on the train...

Day One: Youngmee, me and Joanna eating
our first Trans-Siberian breakfast

Later that day: Trans-Siberian dinner

A typical view

I spent a lot of time like this.

I really like this shot of Joanna overlooking the plains of Russia
especially the way her reflection turned out.
There were a lot of plains....

And a lot of birch forests.
This was my view from the top bunk.

On the morning of May 2nd, we awoke to discover
both scenery and snow.

Youngmee and Joanna did train-yoga.

Vendors sold all sorts of goodies at the stops along the way.

View from the platform at the Krasnoyarsk train station.

Me and Joanna, Krasnoyarsk.

View from above the platform, Krasnoyarsk

Misha, Valentina, Me, Joanna, Youngmee, Elena

Sunrise on the morning of May 3rd,
shortly before arrival in Irkutsk

We're Back!

2006-05-08T21:58:00.000+04:00

The trip to Siberia was amazing and utterly insane. It turned out to be essentially three separate (and vastly different) vacations in one: Three days on the Trans-Siberian, four days on Olkhon Island on Baikal, and three days in Irkutsk. Right now I am exhausted and desperately in need of a shower, so you won't be getting any details today. And as I have to plan a lesson or two (classes start Wednesday!), I'm not sure when exactly said details will go online. I'll probably post them in three different segments, beginning in a day or two... so stay tuned!

A small break :-)

2006-04-27T15:09:00.000+04:00

Tomorrow morning the AH server will be shut down, in order for it to be upgraded... this means no internet access for me on either Friday or Saturday. On Saturday night, four of us will be hopping on the Tans-Siberian Railroad, and we will spend three full days on a train as we head into Eastern Russia. On the morning of May 3rd we will arrive in Irkutsk, Russia, where someone from our hotel will meet us and take us to Olkhon Island on Lake Baikal. We will spend three nights (four days) on the island, and hopefully we'll get to go on some excursions. On the evening of May 6th, we'll return to Irkutsk, where we'll spend two nights before catching a plane to Moscow and then a train to Vladimir (both on May 8th). Classes at the AH start on May 10th - whew! I'll try and post again on May 9th. See you then! (Eleven days without internet access.... I may very well go mad!)

Last Conversation Class

2006-04-26T19:41:00.000+04:00

I had my last conversation class today. As you can see, they brought a *ton* of food (mostly sweets) and we didn't discuss any specific topic, we just chatted about various things. Lots of fun! I'm going to miss them - we always had such great classes. One of my students (the girl you can't really see, because her head is kind of blocked) is going to the States next month, through the Work and Travel program. She'll be in Maryland, but I'm going to try to meet up with her when I'm home in July. How fun would that be? Also, at the end of the class the student seated farthest to the left of the picture asked me if I would be willing to tutor her twice a week during the summer, because she'll be going to England at the end of the summer and needs more practice. Of course I agreed :-) It's looking like my two months this summer will be busier than my four months this semester put together!

Chernobyl: 20 years later

2006-04-26T12:14:00.000+04:00

Twenty years ago today, I was in the first grade, Mrs. Park's class, Melrose Park Elementary, Lake City, Florida, United States. I didn't know anything about nuclear power, but I did know that there had been a terrible accident at a place called Chernobyl that was somewhere behind the Iron Curtain, whatever that was. I remember sitting in class, telling the boy who sat next to me (a chubby kid named Steven) that we needed to close our windows up really tightly, in case the poisonous cloud floated over Florida from Chernobyl. (Seriously, this is a genuine memory.)

I had planned to post a collection of links pertaining to Chernobyl today, on the 20 year anniversiary of the catastrophe; however, Megan Case has beaten me to it. Please CLICK HERE to visit her site, and follow the various links which she has assembled. The pictures on the different sites are just incredible.

From my window at night

2006-04-25T13:48:00.000+04:00

A visit to a Russian Dentist

2006-04-24T16:43:00.000+04:00

For a while now, I've been having slight pain in one of my teeth on the lower right-hand side of my mouth, but only when I eat something really sweet. Of course, as really sweet treats are a staple of my diet here (those of you who saw me over the Christmas holidays should remember the plentiful bounty of dark chocolate I brought home with me!), this means that several times a day I think "Ow! Cavity!" Anyway, a while back Brooke went to the dentist and had a $25 root canal, at which point I figured it would be foolish of me not to have this taken care of here. Anyway, the dentist (who is a friend of Galya's) was very nice, and the facility was very modern and not scary in the least. (My last dental experience was in San Diego and it was terrifying, and I truly thought I'd never see a dentist again after that!) Anyhow, it turns out that I don't have any cavities, although the enamel is worn down on my right side, making my teeth sensitive. So, she coated my teeth with enamel, and I'm supposed to go back in two weeks for a check up. It was an altogether pleasant experience, which cost me roughly $4.

Happy Easter!

2006-04-23T15:36:00.000+04:00

No, I'm not a week late... Russian Orthodoxy celebrates Easter (or Paskha) a week later than Western Christan churches celebrate Easter. Why? I don't know. (Feel free to enlighten me! My students said it has something to do with the phases of the moon, although to the best of my knowledge, the scheduling of Western Easter is based on lunar cycles, so I'm not really sure how this works...) Anyway, several people have written to ask me how Russians celebrate Easter, and whether or not they have any pseudo-pagan traditions (i.e. the Easter Bunny) incorporated into their Easter celebration. Well, as far as I can tell (from both last Wednesday's Easter-topic in my conversation class and living with a Russian babushka), Paskha is a purely religious holiday, without much in the way of pagan-holdovers tacked on.

Russians do color eggs, and while nowadays egg-dye kits can be found in some stores, they prefer the traditional method of coloring eggs: boiling them with onion skins to produce eggs of a dark red color, which symbolizes the blood of Jesus. (And as both my students and Nina Mikhailovna said, this is a more natural way coloring eggs, and is therefore healthier.) Traditional Easter foods consist of these eggs, plus two different cakes, one called a Paskha and the other called a Kulich, which can either be purchased at a store or baked at home. Many Russians take these foods to church on the Saturday before Paskha to be blessed. (Yesterday I saw crowds of people laden with such foodstuffs heading to the various cathedrals around the city.) There is some very big and important Orthodox celebration at all of the churches at midnight (between Saturday and Sunday), although I know nothing about what it entails.

This morning, Nina M prepared a bit of an Easter feast for me for breakfast: a Paskha, a Kulich, dyed eggs, a box of chocolates, and ham and cheese sandwiches. Tons of food and quite delicious. So there you go, my little bit of knowledge on Easter traditions in Russia ends here.

Eggs boiling in onion leaves. This requires brown eggs to begin with.
After Nina M boiled them, she let them sit in the onion leaves for about
24 hours and then boiled them again.

The end result.

An Easter cake with Easter eggs.

The looked really cool when peeled.

Times they are a changin'

2006-04-21T21:15:00.000+04:00

Today was the last "real" class of the semester. We had our oral exam (all of my students passed!) and reviewed for the written exam, which is next class. The final "class" is actually a party, so I don't really count it as a "real" class.

We got our schedules for next semester today. The summer semester is a short, intensive semester, where classes meet three times a week (as opposed to two) for three hours at a time (as opposed to one and a half), and we have classes for two months (as opposed to four). I'll be teaching A1, which is the third level (as opposed to Z2, which is the second level), so there's a chance that I'll have some of the same students. (Of course, about half of my students are waiting until the Fall Semester to continue their studies, so I'll be getting some new students too.) Of course, this means I'll have to watch Forrest Gump twice a day, three times a week, for two months. Have I mentioned how I hate this film? Sigh.

And speaking of changes, the New Teachers have been hired for next year. CLICK HERE to check out their photographs and biographies. It's so strange to think of the AH without the eight of us. (Joanna is the only one staying on for a second year.) It's also unbelievably strange to think that in nine weeks I'll be in Waycross, in my house, doing home-improvement projects and preparing to go to Korea yet again. On one hand I'm very concerned that I have to finish doing everything that it's possible to do here in Vladimir before I leave, although at the same time, every night I dream about my new house and things I need to buy for it (like new locks). I'm stuck in weird temporal limbo between one adventure and two new ones.

Spring is here!

2006-04-20T15:52:00.000+04:00

Look! Flowers! in the American Home's front yard!

Another sign of spring: the city is again filled with cats.

The city's ancient ramparts, so recently covered in snow
(a favorite spot for sledding) are turning green.
(the city's ancient Golden Gates, built 1164, are in the background)

Golden Gates...

Golden Gates

Cupolas of the Nikityaskaya Church (built 1762)

All hands, Subbotnik!

2006-04-19T14:10:00.000+04:00

Today we Subbotniked. What, you ask, is a Subbotnik? Well, SnowSquare has an excellent description of the Russian (er, Soviet...) Subbotnik tradition, which you should read before you read what I have to say about Subbotniking (which is actually very little...)

We (the AH teachers and the Russian staff) all arrived at 10:00 this morning, and began to tackle the mountain of trash that was revealed in the back yard and on the hill (part of the city's ancient ramparts) behind the AH's back yard. By 1:00, all trash was gone, flowers were re-planted, and the yard was raked. (No, I didn't really understand the yard-raking.) I have no pics for you, although Alexei shot a bunch, so perhaps at some point I'll be able to share those with you.

After Subbotnik, we were all rewarded with excellent, fresh, homemade lentil soup.... yum.

The joys of home ownership: UPDATE

2006-04-19T14:01:00.000+04:00

[This post is cross-posted at Jane's Daily Blah.]

This is an update to yesterday's post. I received this email from my mom this morning:

Filed the police report. Officer Davis came over to the house with me; then his sergeant shows up. HE says they have been waiting for an excuse to be able to take a closer look at that bunch (!) Apparently they 'house-hop' -- move from one house to another and never pay rent (or utilities, I guess). Anyway, I filled out a criminal trespass form, and that gives the police permission to be on the property, and anyone found there withpout permission can be prosecuted.

The joys of home ownership.

2006-04-18T21:18:00.000+04:00

[This post is cross-posted with Jane's Daily Blah]

When I bought my house in Waycross, I bought one in a rather sketchy neighborhood. I was aware that this house wasn't really in the best spot, but I'm planning to be a hermit; does it really matter what's going on outside my door? Well, the other day my mom emailed to say that she caught the next door neighbor stealing my electricity! She came over to water my flowers and discovered an extension cord from the neighbor's house plugged into one of my outside outlets. The neighbor is named Pasha. Mom went and knocked on the door and it was answered by a woman who said she was Tasha, who cried and claimed to have no clue about the extension cord.

Today I received this email from my mom:

Went by your house this morning. The back door was unlocked, so apparently they are getting in somehow and going out the back door. The man in the house behind yours (Simmie) came over to warn me what was going on. Tasha's name is actually Christie and he is her cousin. He says the family has stolen from him. So I guess this is war. I probably will file a police report.

This is going to be an adventure. I can see how people end up with six-foot fences topped with razor wire. (Melissa, is this your fault?)

A Plethora of Pictures

2006-04-17T18:27:00.000+04:00

Hold on to you seats, ladies and gentlemen (or perhaps go and get yourself a snack or something) - see, I've got twenty-five photos for you in this post, and they may take a while for all of them to load. This afternoon, as the weather was still wonderful, I decided to take the bus out to Dobroye for the purpose of photographing some things, both interesting and mundane, which I'd spotted when I was out there last night. So here goes:

Butterfly apartments

Other Soviet-era decor.

Buildings in the suburbs tend to look pretty much the same.

At least the sky was beautiful.

An up-close shot of some random balconies.

Update: Thanks to Maxim for telling me the name of this church:
Mikhaila-Arkangela Church

Mikhaila-Arkangela Church

Mikhaila-Arkangela Church

Mikhaila-Arkangela Church

Bird!!

Konstantino-Sabinsky Church (also in Dobroye)

Konstantino-Sabinsky Church

Konstantino-Sabinsky Church

Konstantino-Sabinsky Church

Konstantino-Sabinsky Church

Konstantino-Sabinsky Church

Konstantino-Sabinsky Church

Konstantino-Sabinsky Church

Knyaz-Vladimirskaya Church (built 1785)

Knyaz-Vladimirskaya Church

Knyaz-Vladimirskaya Church

Knyaz-Vladimirskaya Church

Knyaz-Vladimirskaya Church and Cemetery

No smoking at the church.

Knyaz-Vladimirskaya Cemetery

I speak Russian better when I'm trashed.

2006-04-17T10:44:00.000+04:00

Last night I went "v gosti" to another student's home. It wasn't nearly as awkward as the last time I did such a thing, since this time I was visiting a student who was roughly my age, not shy, and who speaks really good English. (This is a student from my Wednesday night conversation class.) My student, Vera, lives with her husband Zhenya, six year old son Alyosha, and her parents (this is a very common living arrangement in Russia) out in Dobroye, one of the far-outlying regions of the city. (On my way there I actually noticed some things I want to photograph, so I may head out that way later on today, assuming the weather holds, to get some shots.) Anyway, everyone was incredibly friendly and jovial... made even more so by the fact that the parents kept insisting we drink vodka. Of course, after several shots of good Russian vodka, I start babbling in Russian... which I guess is okay - always good to practice, right? I think perhaps that's why my Russian improved so much the last time I was here: I spent most of my seven months in St. Pete sloshy. I guess I just don't drink as much in my old age. That and when I was in St. Pete I didn't spend seven days a week at an English language school surrounded by native English speakers and ESL students. Sigh. Anyway, my visit was quite a lot of fun. Here are some photos:

Vera and me

Zhenya and me

Vera's mom and me

Random Photos

2006-04-15T16:10:00.000+04:00

We are suffering from some horrible weather curse. During the week, when I have to spend nearly all my time within the confines of the American Home, the weather is gorgeous; on the weekends... the weather turns to shite. I'm wishing that I hadn't wasted my Thursday afternoon walk home on the most boring stretch of road in Vladimir. (For those of you who know the city, I walked north on Oktyabrsky, hung a left at the Bely Dom, walked over to Fakel, and then south to Ploschad Pobedy.) Yes, I wasted this unbelievably beautiful day on an unbelievably boring stroll. And today is not one of those days for walking outside... But here are the most interesting things I found on my walk.

Nationalist Graffiti

No clue as to what this is.
It's not really all that interesting, but at the time I was desperate.

Nikityaskaya Church (built 1762) as seen across a construction zone.

Pictures from recent walks

2006-04-13T11:25:00.000+04:00

When the weather is sunny and dry (prime time to bust out with my crazy new boots), do I wear them? Well.... I am really enjoying being able to go for long walks, and let's just say those shoes were *not* designed with comfort in mind. So instead, I've been slipping into my tennis shoes and going for as many long walks as I can. Below are some photos I took last night and this morning.

Sunset over Victory Square and the Eternal Flame
(In honor of WWII)

The moon was full last night.

Stretenskaya Church, built 1807

Stretenskaya Church

Cat on a hot tin roof.

Can you believe this building is in Vladimir? I am in love!

Punks and Girly-Girls vs. Sloppy Dressers, Hot Topic and The GAP

2006-04-12T17:30:00.000+04:00

I received numerous comments about the punk rock show the other day, with one comment in particular comparing the punk movement in Russia to the commercialized punk image sold at stores like Hot Topic. I also received an email from my friend Chris (which, sadly, I accidentally deleted) in reference to the notion of Punks in Russia. His comment was that perhaps Russian "punks" are simply the sloppily-dressed kids, as opposed to those who put time and care into their appearance.

I suppose now would be a good time to remind everyone first off that I am not one of those people who takes photos of people she doesn't know, no matter how interesting looking or otherwise photogenic they might be. I wish I could do this, but every time I see someone I don't know, but whom I would love to photograph, I get all shy. I can't bring myself to just snap a picture and hope they don't yell at me (seriously, what would you do if some random person you didn't know started photographing you?). Of course, the other way to deal with this type of scenario is to simply ask for permission to take the photo... but that leads us into the whole issue I have with talking to people I don't know. What issue? Well, I don't talk to people I don't know. Yes, I'm a bit of a nut-ball, but that's just way the cookie crumbles and the genes align.

That being said, let's return to the punk rock show. The only clear-shot I got of anyone was the shot of Elena and Nika (re-posted below), who are the students Glen and I had accompanied to the show. We know them, we're friends with them, and I don't mind asking them to pose for a picture. Based on appearance alone, these two girls are highly unusual for Russian teenage females. They're wearing very little makeup (Nika might not be wearing any), they haven't fixed their hair, they're wearing plain, simple shirts. (You can't see the homemade Sex Pistols tags and other punkish stuff that Elena in particular has used to decorate her pants and her backpack.) Now, in the States, no one would give these two a second glance. They're just normal teenagers. But in Russia, this isn't just a case of being a little sloppily dressed, this is a huge statement.

As I mentioned above, I don't take pics of people I don't know, and to be honest, the only Russian chic I hang out with is Layla, and she's totally an exception to every norm possible (this is meant as a compliment, dude), and as such she doesn't make for a good example of your typical Russian female. I found a pic from last semester of me with Natasha, one of my former students (posted below). I think you'll get the point, although even she isn't as dolled up as many Russian ladies frequently are. (I am *so* dumpy and unattractive next to this girl!)

Russian women are hot. And damn sexy. And no, it isn't because we American ladies are fat, ugly lard balls (as certain people have told me). Granted a lot of it is nature (who'd-a-thunk this frigid weather would breed such beauties?), but a lot of it is the packaging. Russian females spend a lot of time on their appearance: Dyeing and styling their hair, appliying make-up, squeezing into impossibly tight and often highly revealing clothes, and finally slipping into ridiculous spiked heels that make my new boots look tame by comparison. Now don't get me wrong; I don't disapprove of this style (and I've bought a lot of really cool clothes here). I do, however, think the pressure to dress as a hyper-feminine sex-pot might be a bit too strong. I know there's been a lot of talk in the media in the States in recent years about teens dressing "too sexy" - let's just say it's nothing like they do here.

But back to Elena and Nika. They have chosen to be different. Even though the picture of them doesn't show them to be all that different from the average American teen, they are vastly different from average Russian girls their age. As a result, they are shunned and mistreated by their peers (Glen and I have witnessed this in their classes at the AH), and by strangers on the street (I witnessed this the other day). They have chosen the punk music scene as an outlet for their difference, and as a place where they fit in. This is far more punk, more defiant, than strolling down to Hot Topic and buying a commercial, pre-packaged, punk image.

Sorry, this post is kinda rambling and jumping all over the place, but.... back to the way most Russian women dress, and why most American women don't dress that way. My co-workers and I have talked about this a lot. For one thing (and men - you might not be aware of the following, but it's true), in the US, there's a lot of value attached to the idea of "natural beauty" - you might dye your hair, apply a ton of makeup and wear a push-up bra, but the end result is such that you look "naturally beautiful." The idea is for people to think your hair is naturally that color, you boobs are naturally that big and your face is naturally fresh and makeupless. Of course, people who do things like dye their hair pink or purple or black or wear funky makeup and whatnot are not (usually) shunned, they're not considered by, shall we say, fashion mags, to be beautiful. In the US, there's also this idea of "dressing your age." My mom often tells me that I shouldn't dress quite so much like a teenager. She has also been known to make derisive comments about women above a certain age who sport what she considers to be a "young" woman's hairdo. Of course, considering how short mom's skirts always are.... ;-)

Anyway, in Russia, it's pretty much the opposite. It seems that most women dye their hair. How do I know this? Well (aside from the rootlines...) they dye their hair all sorts of colors. Black. Purple. Blue. Red. Colors that are blatantly fake. And the idea of makeup isn't "natural beauty" it seems instead to be the "Look! I'm wearing makeup! Therefore I'm pretty!" concept. Women of all ages (well, until they become the mythical babushka) dress all sexpot. It's nothing unusual to see middle aged women in short skirts, tight, see-through shirts, and knee-high leather boots on stiletto heels.

Let's take shopping in Russia. Dobryak, the biggest warehouse/market/shopping center in Vladimir, is filled to the brim with clothes. I love shopping there, even though I continually come out of there with things I don't need. Clothes in Dobryak tend to fall into two different categories: Sexpot or Babushka. Meanwhile, US malls are littered with the GAP and GAP knock-offs.

Is there a point to this post? Probably not. I don't dress like typical-anything anyway. But it's interesting to think about.

Hate Crimes in Russia on NPR

2006-04-10T18:46:00.000+04:00

My mom advised me to check out NPR today, as they apparently did a segment on hate crimes in Russia on Morning Edition. Here's the link. I haven't been able to listen, mainly because the computer I'm using doesn't have speakers.

Punk Show and Scenery Pics

2006-04-10T17:29:00.000+04:00

As promised, I have some photos for you from last night's punk rock show, followed by some sights-of-Vladimir pics taken this afternoon.

I don't know what the Dom Kulturi Molodyozh was originally used for, but I find it amusing beyond measure that there was a screaming-crazy-punk concert underneath the hammer and sickle. (It's hard to tell from this pic, but it's that red-seal-thing in between the lights at the top.

I'm afraid none of my pics are of the best quality, but on the black wall behind the singers, it says ПАНКИ В ГОРОДЕ, or "Punks in the City" with an anarchy symbol for the letter A. (The way Russians transliterate the word "punk" it's spelled "pank" in Cyrillic.)

You can't really tell what's going on here, but I thought it was a cool shot.

I'm hiding behind Glen looking scared.

Elena and Nika, our punk rock students

All last week the weather was incredible. As soon as Saturday rolled around, the weather turned to shit: just barely above freezing, no sun and freezing ice-rain. It stayed that way until Monday morning. Damn you evil weather gods! Anyhow, I took some time and went for a rather lengthy walk this afternoon. I went south from the AH on Letneperevozinskaya, until I came to the road that parallels the railway (yes, the trans-Siberian). This road changes names numerous times (it started out as Nikolo-Galeiskaya St, and became Karl Marx St, Workers St, and Railroad St, among others as I walked. This area is a fairly poor area, home to a lot of old wooden, traditional-style houses. And a couple of churches.

Some cats hanging out on their front porch

Svyato-Nikolo-Galeiskaya Church (built 1732)

Again, Svyato-Nikolo-Galeiskaya Church

Svyato-Nikolo-Galeiskaya Church as seen from a distance

Spires of the Khristo-Voznesenskaya Church,
as seen from the grounds of the Svyato-Nikolo-Galeiskaya Church

Mailboxes.

Nikolo-Galeiskaya St

I'm not sure what the name of the street was at this point...

The spires of the Old Believers' Uspensky Church, as seen from a distance

Old Believers' Uspensky Church (built 1644)

All punks, and not a fascist in sight

2006-04-09T20:20:00.000+04:00

Remind me to smack Layla for scaring the piss out of me before I left. Anyway, the concert was interesting (I'll have some pics for you tomorrow). Glen and I met Nika (one of the punk rock girls) at the AH at 4:30, and accompanied her to Dom Kulturny Molodyozh (House of Culture for Youth), where we met up with Elena. We arrived an hour before the doors opened, and there were tons of Russian punks everywhere. Now, for someone who was weaned on Emo, let's just say there wasn't an Emo kid in sight of this crowd. Russian punks are total hardcore and rather intimidating. But not nearly as intimidating as the large police presence at DKM, and the fact that they kept carting off people and chucking them into the back of police vans for no visibly discernable reason. That had me really freaked out, despite the absolute lack of scary skinheads. Glen realized that he didn't have his passport on him. Now, Russian police are notorious for asking for one's documents, so we decided that since Glen lives a 5 minute walk from DKM, we'd pop over to his house and get the passport. We considered not coming back, although having promised our students that we'd attend, we decided to return. At 6:00 we went inside, and the concert began. We only saw the first 4 bands (not the headlining acts, and each group only played 3-4 songs). There was a great atmosphere inside DKM, and everyone seemed to be having a great time... although tiny as I am, I was terrified that I might get pummeled accidentally by a jumping/thrashing/moshing type or twenty. I was continually hiding behind Glen (for whatever good that did me!). I saw a couple other students of the AH there (they are always SO surprised to see me out of context), and Nika and Elena definitely were having a blast. I didn't really like three of the bands at all: lots of screaming and noise and not much in the way of music. However, the second band to play (unfortunately I don't know it's name!) was *excellent* and they sounded a lot like early Nirvana. I think Glen and I were the only ones who really dug them, though. We cut out at 8:30, partially to save our hearing and partially because there was the promise of freshly baked cookies at the AH. I wonder where all these hardcore punks of Vladimir go during the day? I had no idea there were so many in this city!

Fascism and Punk Rock?

2006-04-09T15:54:00.000+04:00

I don't know if there's actually a connection between the two... but perhaps I should give you the full story first.

I had these two students last semester who were (and still are) Punk Rock Girls. Now unlike in the States, where at least half of teens belong to some sort of "alternative lifestyle" and "punks" are pretty common.... they're pretty rare in Russia, especially for girls. For females in Russia, there is a lot of pressure to be hyper-feminine and incredibly prissy-pretty all the time. Women who dress "unusually" (such as punks) are often considered outcasts. (When I had these girls in my class, they were shunned by the other students, who often talked trash about them.) These girls are in Glen's class this semester, and they invited the two of us to go to a concert of their favorite Russian punk groups this evening.

I mentioned this to Layla, and she seems to think it's a horrible idea, that the concert will be full of fascists who will try to kill us. (No physical harm!) Actually what she said was, "These punk concerts usually attract skinheads, so you really don't want to go there." Great. Our punk rock girls will be here in about 20 minutes to escort us to the concert.... I promised Layla that if there were skinheads we'd cut out.

She also emailed me some links about fascists in St. Petersburg, which I thought I'd share:

Racist Attacks Plague St. Petersburg

Rights Groups Say fascism, Racism Flourishing

Sentences in Tajik Girl's Slaying Spark Public Outcry

Alright, time to go rock. No physical harm.

Are you freakin' kidding me?!

2006-04-07T14:25:00.000+04:00

Millions of passengers traveling through Russia soon will have to take a lie detector test as part of new airport security measures that could eventually be applied throughout the country. The technology, to be introduced at Moscow's Domodedovo airport as early as July, is intended to identify terrorists and drugs smugglers. But many passengers will be chilled by the set of four questions they will have to answer into a machine, including, "Have you ever lied to the authorities?"

The machine asks four questions: The first is for full identity; the second, unnerving in its Soviet-style abruptness, demands: "Have you ever lied to the authorities?" It then asks whether either weapons or narcotics are being carried. To cut delays, passengers will take the tests after taking off their shoes and putting baggage through the X-ray machines. He doesn't get his shoes back until he satisfactorily answers the questions. Each test will take up to a minute. "If a person fails to pass the test, he is accompanied by a special guard to a cubicle where he is asked questions in a more intense atmosphere," says Vladimir Kornilov, IT director for the airport.

[Click here to read the full article. Thanks to Gwen for bringing this to my attention]

So much for making Russia a tourist-friendly country. "Have you ever lied to the authorities?" Everyone who has ever tried to weasel their way out of a traffic ticket is going to end up being interrogated by some scary Russian Fed. Sheesh.

Something to make you cats jealous. Maybe.

2006-04-07T13:28:00.000+04:00

Four of us are planning a trip to Olkhon Island in Lake Baikal in Siberia for our break between the Spring and Summer semesters. It may or may not work out, as the time when we're able to go is the most difficult time of year to reach the island (the ice between shore and island is melting then, and therefore the ice-road is impassable, but the ice won't have melted enough for the ferry, leaving us with the options of sketchy small boats or walking on the ice...) but I hope we make it there, because check this place out!

Photos from yesterday

2006-04-07T11:27:00.000+04:00

I walked home yesterday after work. I've walked home the past couple of days, and it's been nice to be able to do so after a long winter of taking the bus everywhere. I decided to take some pictures... although I was in a bit of an odd mood, so I got some rather odd shots. Enjoy!

When the snow melts, all the trash that was tossed on the ground and then covered by falling snow is revealed. It's kind of disgusting. And don't even get me started on the five month old, recently uncovered and thawed dog doo.

I thought the mailbox/phonebooth combination was worth photographing.

I also liked the Golden Gates/phonebooth combination.
You could almost call it a combination of the ancient and the modern,
but I'm still trying to find the modernity...

Yes, I took a picture of the trashcan.

Windows along Dvoryanskaya Ulitsa: Fortichkas open!
(A fortichka is that little mini-window within the big window)

I'd never noticed these wooden gnomes before, so I don't know if they're new, if if I'm simply unobservant. They line the path through the small park in front of Baskin Robbins. (Yes, we have a Baskin Robbins here in Vladimir. No, I've never been there. Thus far, it's the only American food-chain to invade the city of Vladimir.

Another wood-gnome.

I took a back street that parallels Prospekt Lenina to the north, and came across this old factory. The windows are all busted out and the doors are all boarded up. You know that if this were any country but Russia I would have found a way inside.

What's the deal with those onion domes anyway?

2006-04-06T18:13:00.000+04:00

St. Basil's Cathedral, Moscow

I *love* onion domes. They're one of my favorite things about Russia. I think they're incredibly beautiful, and as they're not something you see in the US, I never get tired of photographing them. I have uncountable shots of onion domes, and as I've got three more months to go here in Russia, you know I'm going to collect tons more before I jet on outta here. I've had several people email to ask me questions about these domes I'm forever photographing: What are they for? Do they serve any architectural purpose? Does your house have a dome? Unfortunately, before today I couldn't tell you much other than no, my apartment building does *not* have an onion dome; they're only attached to churches. But as for why, all I could say was that it had something to do with Russian Orthodoxy.

Today, being stuck inside for office hours, with no students coming to meet with me, I was feeling bored out of my mind. This feeling was made even worse by the fact that it's such an incredibly day outside, and that according to weather.com, it isn't going to stay nice for very long. *Must distract self. Must do something on internet.* Aha! I can research the onion dome question. So I did some searching, and here's what I found:

On the roof of Orthodox churches are usually found one or more cupolas (towers with rounded or pointed roofs), called crests or summits. One cupola signifies Christ, the sole head of the Christian community; three cupolas symbolize the Most-Holy Trinity; five cupolas represent Christ and the four Evangelists; seven cupolas symbolize the Seven Ecumenical Councils which formulated the basic dogmas of the Orthodox Church, as well as the general use in the Church of the sacred number "seven"; nine cupolas represent the traditional nine ranks of Angels; and thirteen cupolas signify Christ and the Twelve Apostles.

A peculiar feature of Russian Orthodox churches is the presence of onion-shaped domes on top of the cupolas. In the early history of the Russian Church, especially in Kiev, the first capital, the domes of the churches followed the typical Byzantine rounded style, but later, especially after the Mongol Period, Russian churches tended toward the onion domes, which, in many places, became quite stylized. Historians are not in agreement as to the origin of this particular style, but some point to the possible influence of Persia on this peculiar feature of Russian church architecture, while others argue that since this style was more popular in the far North of Russia, it had a practical application, in that the shape was particularly suited to shed the large amounts of snow common in the region.

(Taken from OrthodoxWorld.com)

Conversation: Human Trafficking and Prostitution

2006-04-05T19:27:00.000+04:00

After that whole thing with my student being potentially trafficked to Egypt, I began to feel rather a bit like an activist on a crusade. I decided to give my conversation students a page from The Angel Coalition (in both English and Russian), a summary of my former student's job offer and how she received it, and the testimonial of a Russian girl taken from HumanTrafficking.com. Not exactly a fun, light-hearted topic or anything (meanwhile, several of the other conversation classes were discussing humor...) I was pretty worried that this was going to be a total conversation killer. I mean, it's an important topic, but would I be able to get these people to chat about it?

I actually consider this conversation class to have been quite a success. It was interesting, because all of my students had heard about this problem before, and they spoke of having all seen many television programs and newspaper articles on this topic. Wow. I asked them if they thought this topic got a lot of publicity in the US. Several of them said, "Of course! In America you have feminists!" Hmmmm. Perhaps some of you other Americans out there will disagree with me, but I don't think this problem gets much attention at all in the States. This is something that I have been interested in for many years, and as such I have ferreted out stories, articles and books on the topic (which I then blogged about...), but there have been numerous times when I have brought this subject up with educated Americans, only to be met with utter disbelief. Obviosuly, the few times the problem of human trafficking has reached Dateline haven't been enough to generate mass awareness of this issue. It is interesting (and reassuring, as Russia is a source-country) to me that this issue has received so much attention. Of course, this was a class of eight students today, so perhaps this doesn't qualify as a good survey-sample.

My class today consisted of six women and two men (one of whom is about 17-18 and was totally embarrassed by the discussion, sadly to say). The other man is probably in his late 30s to early 40s. I must say that I don't really like this fellow's opinions very much. Granted, this is a *conversation* class, and I'm not there to judge, I'm there to listen to their arguments and to correct their grammar. (This is the same dude who had what I felt were some pretty questionable opinions of a woman's role in the workplace during our Feminism discussion back in February) Anyhow, this guy provoked quite an animated discussion (dare I say argument?) with his female classmates when he said that he didn't believe that trafficking was much of a problem, and that probably most of these women simply *chose* to lead the life of a prostitute, and we should therefore stop referring to them as slaves. He also said that prostitution is just another job, like being a soldier or a policeman. Well, at least those comments provoked discussion!

He, and one other woman, said that it is Russian tradition, or perhaps male tradition world wide, to seek the services of prostitutes. I found it quite disturbing when he told me that Nikita Mikhailkov has been involved with hookers. (Other students nodded; they'd heard that before. I find myself hoping that's not true.) The woman who agreed that this is a Russian tradition told us the following tale:

Once a male business contact of her firm came to Vladimir on a business trip. After the meetings he requested that she find him a prostitute for the evening - and she had no qualms/problems about getting him one. In case anyone is interested, 500 rubles gets you four hours of companionship. That's $13 an hour folks.

When it came to discussing the "job offer" my student had received, I didn't tell them that it concerned a woman from Vladimir, and I changed the woman's name. (This town might have 400,000 or so people, but it has the same small-town atmosphere as Waycross or Lake City!) This is what I had them read:

Irina was a bookkeeper in a city in Russia. She went to Egypt on vacation for two weeks. While she was there, she went dancing in clubs every night. One night, while she was dancing, a man approached her, and offered her a job in his hotel. He said that she would be an “activity leader” – her job would be to lead guests in aerobics, ping-pong and volleyball, and to dance in the hotel’s club at night. Additionally, she must always have a good attitude, she must smile all the time, and she would not be allowed to have a boyfriend. She would live in the hotel and be paid $500/month.

Even after having spent the previous hour discussing trafficking and the methods traffickers use to attract victime, several of my students thought that this seemed like a legitimate job offer... although they did admit that if they were Irina, they would do a *lot* of research before leaving Russia. So that's something I guess.

Next class, we're going to talk about pets. I gave them an article on why you should spay/neuter your pets. (Spaying in particular doesn't appear to be practiced here... or if it is, it's rare.) The two men in my class looked at the translation I'd given them for the verb "to neuter" - let's just say that it's a cognate of "to castrate." The very vocal man said that he would much rather discuss prostitution than castration... Blah. Now I have to see if I can convince some of my students to start the Vladimir branch of the Feral Cat Coalition. Or a Russian Humane Society. Or something.

Continuing my Belly Dancing fad...

2006-04-05T15:42:00.000+04:00

My mom sent me this email today. I'm excited to learn that I'll be able to continue this painful and allegedly sensual bit of exercise for the month I'll be in Waycross this summer. Now I just have to find a belly dancing class in Korea...

FYI: If you are considering Bellydancing as an exercise program, the bellydancing classes at Planet Groove are now being offered Monday and Tuesday nights at 5:30 to 6:30 for $5 per lesson. Drop in any time. Bring a yoga mat or beach towel, and a notebook. Call Ashley 283-4525 if you need more info. NO SPECTATORS, PLEASE. If you show up, be prepared to join in!!

Update-ish on the Russia/Egypt/Trafficking thing

2006-04-03T17:52:00.000+04:00

Well, my individual student (see previous posts) didn't show up for today's class either, so I'm guessing she's not coming back. I asked our secretary if she could call the girl and find out, but apparently she was paying on a per-class basis, and the AH doesn't have her contact info. So I guess I'll never know what happened to her.

Because I can't help myself....

2006-04-03T14:29:00.000+04:00

...and because you know you want another peek:

Sometimes it's really weird being out of the country...

2006-04-02T16:59:00.000+04:00

I was browsing through friends' blogs, as I often do, and I came across a post over on Linda's blog about the protests in SoCal (leading to school cancellation), which are occurring over the issue of immigration. What? I had no clue. I admit it, I don't read/watch/listen to the news as often as I should. (Or as often as I *do* when I'm in the States.) I googled it, and came up with many articles on the subject (here's one for ya). Sometimes I forget how out of touch I am, being over here.

Random Miscellany

2006-04-02T15:03:00.000+04:00

Belly Dancing really is a lot of fun. I'm not coordingated enough to be good at it, but it's fun, and damn - does it ever work muscles I had no idea that I even had! I'm quite sore this morning, mainly along the backs of my legs and the sides of my abdomen. Laughing hurts. I also discovered why you shouldn't belly dance withing an hour of eating breakfast. Don't worry, I won't share the details. Nor will I ever do that again. Ahh well; live and learn.

After belly dancing, we had the First Ever American Home Spelling Bee. I must say that the turn out wasn't really whopping-fantastic (when I told my students about it, I got looks of total disbelief. One was convinced it was an April Fool's joke. Not one of my students showed up.) although we did have enough students to make for a fairly decent spelling bee. The last two went for 15 rounds before we had a winner, which was pretty intense.

After the spelling bee, a bunch of us went over to Kelli's, where we cooked stir-fry. Now, to those of you not living in the land of cabbage and potatoes, this might not sound like something to get excited about.... but I hadn't eaten stir-fry since something like June 2005, and let me tell you, it was like consuming ambrosia. We had a good time. Let's just say that trying to act out Peter the Great for charades is freakin' hard.

This morning (er, I suppose it was afternoon by the time I rolled out of bed, but you know what I mean) I went shoe shopping. Boot shopping, to be specific. I have a pair of boots that I bought at Payless about two and a half years ago. They are knee high and leather. They're dressy enough to wear with anything dressy. They're classy enough to wear to work. They've got practical, flat soles, so I never have to worry about fucking up my knees like I did in St. Petersburg. I love them. I should have bought every single pair my size that I could find... but I didn't. And now my two and a half year old Payless boots are starting to disintegrate. I really wanted to find some flat-footed, practical boots to replace them. Of course, this is Russia - what was I thinking?! They don't make *practical* boots here. (Although Brooke found practical-yet-stylish winter boots... I actually went to the store where she bought them, but the place wasn't selling anything remotely like practical spring boots...) I ended up buying the most fabulous boots I have ever seen. They are not remotely practical by any standards, and no way in hell am I going to wear them until all the snow melts and it stops raining, but take a look:

This isn't the best picture.
I'll definitely post one as soon as I start wearing them :-)

Mmmmmm, dooobeee.

2006-04-01T13:18:00.000+04:00

Sorry, couldn't resist the Homer-Simpson-voice-title-thing. But no, I'm not talkin' pot, I'm talking a pseudo-meme, pseudo-tag thing. [Insert voice from reader: WTF?!] Well, click here to see what I'm talking about, then come back and read about What I Do and What I Be. My apologies in advance for the horrible grammar that, as an ESL teacher, reminds me of some of my worst students.....

This is what I do:

I blog.
I write.
I design websites for fun. (Or I did, before my baby Compaq died.)
I travel. [See janekeeler.com]
I do photography. Yes, I'm an amateur, but I love it. [See my Russia pics]
I [try to] do belly dancing. I'm horrible, but it's tons of fun. And I get to wear that jingly-jangly green thing.
I read. Obsessively.
I teach ESL in Russia. Soon I'll do this again in South Korea.
To be honest, I don't really *do* that much.

This is what I be:

I be hopelessly addicted to the internet.
I be weird. (Or different, or crazy, or unique, or "an individual," or whatever word you wish to insert to imply that I don't really fit in. I won't be offended - it's true!)
I be independent.
I be a feminist.
I be opposed to war.
I plan to be a hermiting writer/photographer/cat-lady.
I be in love with things that are bright green and/or bright orange. Or fuzzy and feline.
I be all about the denial twist. In so many ways.
I be hating this non-conjugation of the verb "to be" - send my ass back to Z2!

I be havin' to go shake my jingly-jangly.

Victory, perhaps?

2006-03-30T16:50:00.000+04:00

I've written twice (here and here) about my individual student, whom I felt was in danger of being trafficked. At our last class, I gave her five pages in Russian, sent to me by the Angel Coalition, on the dangers posed to Russian women by traffickers. She didn't show up to class today. Of course, there could be any number of reasons: she could be sick, she could have left for Egypt early, she might have decided to learn English from someone other than me. Or perhaps she's changed her mind about the Egypt thing. I hope so.

My ESL Conversation Class Rocks!

2006-03-29T19:30:00.000+04:00

I always enjoy my Wednesday night conversation classes. Tonight we talked about war. At the end of our last class, I gave them the lyrics to Bob Dylan's Blowin' in the Wind, and the lyrics to an anti-war song written by my friend Chris to the tune of "Oh Suzanna." (The lyrics to both are at the bottom of this post.) We started off by discussing the 1960's and the different events going on during that time, particularly in the year of 1962, when Blowin' in the Wind was written. We dicussed and analyzed possible meanings of the song, and then we listened to it. Then we did the same with my friend Chris's song.

We discussed the reasons why people protest things in gereal, and the reasons why there are few protests/demonstrations in Russia. The general consensus of the class was that Russians are afraid that the government will react strongly in opposition to them if they protest, so therefore they remain passive, although they did all say that if Russians began to protest various issues, the country might improve.

One of the students mentioned that she is a member of Nashi (НАШИ - it means "ours") a Russian youth movement, about which I had heard a lot of negative things. However, my student said a lot of good things about the organization: that it's against fascism, and they she has assisted in painting over pro-fascist and pro-nazi grafitti as part of her Nashi activities. She said that they also work actively against racism, by providing a support network for Africans and members of other races living in Vladimir. Immediately, another woman countered by saying that Nashi is a fascist organization, although she didn't back that statement up with anything. I must admit, I know almost nothing about Nashi, although I had heard that it was fascist. (I found some links, that were interesting to me, so perhaps they will be interesting to you, on this topic, so here you go: Wikipedia, Official Nashi Website, and Analysis of Putin's New Youth Movement)

We discussed the war in Iraq and the war in Chechnya - both of which my students opposed, although they all seemed to think that governments make decisions entirely independent of their citizens, so governments decide to go to war, and then the people have to suffer. It was certainly an interesting discussion.

At the end of the class, one of the women asked "Can we please talk about something positive next time?" Whoops. Unfortunately, I don't think that's really going to happen. After everything that's been going on with my student who plans to go to Egypt, I decided that it would be a good idea to give them some of the text from the Angel Coalition's website. Useful, helpful, but not exactly light-n-happy conversation.

Here are the lyrics to both songs:

Song written by my friend Chris:

Well I come from ol’ America

And Iraq I’m gonna free,

But Bush said it would be alright

If I killed me two or three

My parents cried the day I left

The weather it was dry

An Iraqi shot me dead that day

And in the streets I died

Oh America, don’t forget to cry for me;

I’ll be coming back from Bush’s Nam

With a flag draped over me.

Well Iraq is free but all I see

Is fighting all around

We’ll teach those Iraqis how to vote

If we have to shoot them to the ground.

‘Cause Bush he needs more oil to sell

And Cheney construction ties

But the rest of us are damned to hell

’Cause Bush you fuckin’ lied.

Oh America, don’t forget to cry for me;

I’ll be coming back from Bush’s Nam

With a flag draped over me.

Blowin' in the Wind by Bob Dylan:

How many roads must a man walk down

Before you call him a man?

How many seas must a white dove sail

Before she sleeps in the sand?

Yes, an' how many times must the cannon balls fly

Before they're forever banned?

The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind,

The answer is blowin' in the wind.

Yes an’ many years can a mountain exist

Before it is washed to the sea?

Yes, an' how many years can some people exist

Before they're allowed to be free?

Yes, an' how many times can a man turn his head,

And pretend that he just doesn't see?

The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind,

The answer is blowin' in the wind.
Yes an’ how many times must a man look up

Before he can see the sky?

Yes, an' how many ears must one man have

Before he can hear people cry?

Yes, an' how many deaths will it take ‘til he knows

That too many people have died?

The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind,

The answer is blowin' in the wind.

The Fountainhead

2006-03-28T21:05:00.000+04:00

Can I say this post relates to Russia since it's about a book written by a woman born in Russia? Yeah, sure. That's why it's here.

So I just finished reading Ayn Rand's The Fountainhead. Wow. There's not too much to say other than "wow." Her prose was incredible - so beautiful - and the story was so engaging that I could hardly put the book down... despite the fact that I found myself hating nearly all of the characters - each for a vastly different reason - in a way that oddly parallelled the hatred the characters felt for each other. I'm sure there are numerous well-thought-out analyses of The Fountainhead out there, and I've no desire to add to the collection. I kinda want to go home and eat dinner. However, I do wish to mention Rand's views on altruism. A while back, I was having a discussion with a friend regarding the comment of my Hermit Manifesto. He stated (well, I'm paraphrasing here) that my decision was selfish, that instead of retreating into my hermitage and selfishly devoting myself to myself, I should use my talents and my skills to make the world a better place. My response: "Why?" His answer was something along the lines of "altruism is the only way to be truly happy." I told him that was nonsense. I've always felt that there are very few people out there who "do good" simply because the act of doing good is pleasurable. They do it because, deep down, they desire the approval of others that they get from doing good - be it the approval of their peers or of their god. I've already felt that it's quite hypocritical, the notion of doing good purely to enhance your own standinh. Bah! It was quite a pleasure to find this part of my personal philospohy was clearly reflected in this work. (Not that I'm 100% opposed to altruism or anything... I mean, I went out of my way to help my student yesterday; however, I'm pretty sure it's not motivated by pure goodness of my soul or anything.) Anyhow, this book isn't for everybody. I'm not sure I can say that it's totally for me... but I enjoyed reading it. Read it for yourself. Decide for yourself.

Death and Trafficking

2006-03-27T17:47:00.000+04:00

So, I returned home yesterday, and this was what I saw, propped up against the door to my apartment complex. My first thought was, "Wow! That looks like a coffin. But surely it's not, so I'm going to take a picture!" Of course, in order to enter the building, I had to get up all close and personal with the thing, at which point I discovered that not only does it look like a coffin, but it actually *is* a coffin - or at least the lid to one. (Well, what else would it be, right? But who leaves their coffin-tops hanging out outside the front door?) I was a bit weirded out by the whole thing, and perhaps it showed in my face, for when I entered our apartment, Nina M. asked me if I was frightened. My response, "Well, there's a thing downstairs. For dead people." (I didn't know the word for coffin at the time. How is it I know the Russian words for grave and cemetery, but not coffin?) At which point she told me that our neighbor died last night. I'd never met him, or even seen him, except from a distance. Apparently he was old and had been sick for a long time. The coffin-lid was still outside when I left for work this morning. I wonder if that means that the neighbor is still in the house in the, you know, bottom part of the coffin? *Shiver*

This afternoon I had my second class with Marina, my individual student who is leaving for Egypt in three weeks (whom I wrote about HERE). After our initial lesson, I felt quite strongly that her job offer seemed unbelievably shady, so I sent an email to The Angel Coalition, an organization that works to prevent human trafficking in and from Russia. I told them exactly what I wrote in my blog last Thursday, and asked for advice. This is the email I received in response:

Dear Jane,

Thanks a lot for the information and your genuine concern! Please find attached Russian-language information that your student may find useful. Please let her know on your own that you believe the attached should be read thoroughly, and any decision should be well-informed. Some sections may seem redundant for her case, however, they might prove useful in the future.

Please emphasize for your student that no tourist visa can ever be legitimate. A contract should be sent to the lady BEFORE she leaves Russia. If she’s asked to leave and take care of trip-related financial issues “later on”, this should indicate a scam.

Thank you very much.

Oleg Kouzbit
Director, Trafficking Victim Assistance Center,
The Angel Coalition, Moscow

The lesson itself went much better than the previous one, as I was prepared for a Z2 level student, and as I was loaded up with worksheets on the present tense and vocabulary lists. But, since she's paying to practice conversation, we did do a good bit of that too. I asked a lot of questions regarding her potential job in Egypt. It turns out that she was at a night club, dancing, when a man approached her on the dance floor, and offered her a job in his hotel. I explained what she says the job will involve in my last post, but this time she mentioned the rules she has to follow: she must smile all the time, she must always have a good attitude, she must come to the club 6 days a week, she can't talk to one man for longer than ten minutes, and she is not allowed to have a boyfriend. Creepy, creepy. She also said that she will be in Egypt on a working visa, although she said she applied for it through a tourist firm in Moscow (the name of which she could not remember). At the end of the class, I gave her the five-page, Russian-language document sent to me by The Angel Coalition, and told her that it was information for Russian women about being safe while traveling overseas, and she took it eagerly. I hope she reads it! I also told her in great deatail about how Melissa and I fled Korea in the middle of the night, in case she needs suggestions on how to pull a runner... I guess we'll see what happens.

A nice walk, lots of photos...

2006-03-26T15:42:00.001+04:00

When I first arrived in Russia, I went on long walks whenever I had the opportunity. I don't really do that much any more, partly because Vladimir is a small town and I've walked through most of it, and partly because my Floridian/Georgian ass doesn't enjoy being exposed to subzero temperatures. Today was a beautiful day. It was about -1/0 C, and even though there was a mighty biting wind blowing, the sky was such a clear blue and the sun was out that I knew I had to go for a walk. I wandered along Bolshaya Moscovskaya, essentially going window shopping, then walked around cathedral square and took even more pictures of Uspensky Sobor (the Assumption Cathedral) - but how many pictures of that place do I need? I mean, we all agree that it's gorgeous, and I'm not going to get a better picture of it than this one that I took back in December, so why do I keep photographing it? Because I just can't help myself. But I've decided to try not to post too many shots of it in the future, lest you cats get sick of looking at it. Instead, I'm going to post the pics that I took while walking back from Cathedral Square to the AH along a small back-street called Geogievskaya Ulitsa. Enjoy!

An old apteka (drug store) and and old church
(Sorry, I don't know the church's name)

Back of old church shown above

Old cupola on above church

This archway intrigued me.

The view down Geogievskaya Ulitsa

Old homes on Geogievskaya Ulitsa

Love beer. Self-explanatory. Except, why is it in English?

This place was literally up to its eyeballs in snow.

Here you can see the Uspensky Sobor in the distance,
with the old southern homes of Vladimir in the foreground

Jack White with a Keeler....

2006-03-25T18:20:00.000+03:00

....although unfortunately not Jane Keeler, alas for me. I'm not sure how I feel about the fact that Jack White is moving beyond the genious duo of The White Stripes to form a band (without Meg!) called The Raconteurs. It could be the best thing to ever happen to the world of music. Or it could be a colossal let down following Get Behind Me Satan. I guess we'll find out soon enough, as their first album, Broken Boy Soldiers, is set to be released on May 16th. But I mentioned a Keeler... who could that be? Well, turns out the drummer of The Raconteurs is one Patrick Keeler. Whaddyaknow. (Given the talent for drumming that oddly seems to run in my family on the Keeler side, I actually wonder in all seriousness if there's any possibility that he's a distant cousin or something.) Anyway, MySpace users can check out their profile HERE, where you can listen to their song Steady, As She Goes - which I must admit makes me all weak in the knees. (Layla, I know you hate MySpace, but go there and watch the video. You will love me for it. Trust me.)

The Hermitage is here!!!

2006-03-24T11:50:00.000+03:00

For you Russophiles out there who automatically assume that I mean the Hermitage Museum in St. Petersburg, I'm afraid that I must disappoint you; this post has nothing whatsoever to do with Russia. Think about it, what better name for the home of someone who has dedicated her life to hermiting than The Hermitage? Yes my friends, it's official: I am now the proud owner of a two-bedroom house in Waycross, Georgia. Well, I suppose in actuality, my mom now owns two homes in Waycross, and I owe her $27,500. Yes, you read that correctly: $27,500. Hee hee! (Eat your heart out, San Diego!) As much as I love being in Russia, I am currently *really* looking forward to going home and working on my house. (Especially since I'll only be in Waycross for one month before I head off to Korea.) Just thought I'd share :-) If you look closely, you might notice that the shutters have the letter "J" painted on them. No, we didn't do this; it came that way!

Russophiles: Links you should follow!

2006-03-23T18:04:00.000+03:00

Lyndon at Scraps of Moscow has an interesting Soviet-era Russian joke (translated) about how Americans viewed the Soviet Union. Creepily not too far from the truth.

Vilhelm Konnander has an excellent review of Anna Politkovskaya's book, Putin's Russia.

Okay, so actually, that's all of them. Now feel free to scroll down and look at my pictures.

A beautiful day and an odd lesson

2006-03-23T17:09:00.000+03:00

The weather today was absolutely gorgeous. Granted, it's still below freezing (our above zero thaw went away three days ago and hasn't yet reappeared) but the sky was a brilliant blue and the sun was shining, so I decided to take a short walk and do my best to rake in some vitamin D. I didn't go very far, as I had to get back to the AH in time for my new class (more on that later in this post), and instead I walked south along Letneperevozinskaya, and then down Voznesenskaya, all the way to the Khristo Voznesenskaya church near the road's end. And of course, I took some pictures.

Voznesenskaya is lined with traditional Russian wooden homes.
This one is my favorite.

The Khristo Voznesenskaya church

From Voznesenskaya, you can see the
Svyato Nikolo Galeiskaya church in the distance.

Here you can see the domes of the Svyato Nikolo Galeiskaya church
above the roof-tops of the homes in the neighborhood.

Today I had my first class with my individual student. I knew nearly nothing about her before the class began, not even her level of English language proficiency. All I knew was that she will be going overseas in three weeks and wants to practice English conversation as much as she can before she leaves. Sounds easy, right? Well, come to find out she has a very low level of English proficiency (if she were studying as part of the AH curriculum, we would classify her as Z2, our second level). On one hand, this is good; I teach Z2 already, so I know what to teach and how to teach it. On the other hand, I went into the lesson planning to shoot the shit for ninety minutes (she had asked for conversational practice, after all!) only to find myself struggling to figure out how to chat for ninety minutes with someone who struggles with the simple present. I do have lots of ideas of what to do for her next class, but man, today was a struggle.

I must say, though, that I left the lesson feeling somewhat disturbed. My student (she's 23 years old) was in Egypt on vacation in Sharm el Sheikh two weeks ago. While there, she met a man who offered her a job at the Royal Rojana Resort Hotel, where she will be leading groups of tourists in aerobics, dart-playing, ping-pong, and volley-ball, and where she will take part in some sort of theater/dancing show. She didn't know any more details than that. She will be living in the hotel. Supposedly, 60% of the people she will work with will speak Russian, and the other 40% will speak English. (Thus her urgent need to practice English before she leaves for Egypt in three weeks.) I don't know... This girl is a book-keeper. She's does aerobics sometimes with her friends, but certainly not professionally. The whole thing seems kind of sketchy to me. I really hope everything works out for her. Maybe I'm just uber paranoid (having done a lot of research on human trafficking) Ahh well.

Okay, so this is about Korea not Russia...

2006-03-22T16:56:00.000+03:00

...but I realize that my previous post is depressing, and I figured I'd link to something cheerier, to cheer all of you up. Or perhaps just me. Either way, here are some more pics that Gwen has posted.

Link One: Sunset in Korea
Link Two: Gwen Sneaks (only Melissa will think this is funny)

Okay. Now I have to go teach a conversation class on education.

So there's this girl...

2006-03-22T12:35:00.000+03:00

...who several people have told me seems a lot like me. I don't actually know her, although I go to her site religiously. Her post today (click here to view) was very much like a page out of my own life. I admit it, I cried. For her, for me, for a certain dude, for life.

But I suppose I should stop feeling down and get on the planning of the lesson for my conversation class tonight. We're discussing education systems in the US versus Russia.

Kropotkin and Thoreau

2006-03-21T12:13:00.000+03:00

I just finished reading Peter Kropotkin’s autobiography, Memoirs of a Revolutionist, and I highly recommend it, especially to those of you with an interest in Russian history. In case you’re wondering who the hell this Kropotkin fellow might be: He was born in 1842 into a noble Russian family – he was literally Prince Kropotkin – and in his youth he was favored by the Tsar. He is known for renouncing his title and becoming an anarchist-socialist. That’s obviously the ultra-condensed version of his life story. His autobiography – four hundred and sixty some pages – is impressively well written and quite witty.

The first half of the book provides an incredibly detailed glimpse into the life of educated Russian royalty in the mid-to-late 1800s, and the book personalizes the general conflicts endemic of the time, usually symbolized by Turgenev’s Fathers and Sons, in a way that Turgenev’s work simply didn’t do for me. I have to say that I do somewhat wonder about the honesty of the work – Kropotkin writes of his youthful views of the harshness of serfdom and the plight of the masses in such as way that it seems to be the product of age and experience. I find it hard to believe that a 19th century Russian prince under the age of ten had such strong egalitarian leanings. But perhaps that’s just me.

I must admit that I found the first half of the book (Kropotkin’s childhood, youth at a military academy, and military service in Siberia) to be more interesting than the second half, which traces Kropotkin’s personal evolution into an anarchist-socialist agitator. This is probably because I don’t really agree with any of his political principles. Don’t get me wrong – I’m an absolutely horrible capitalist, and I’ve chosen (essentially) to turn my back on the capitalistic, so-called “American Dream” (as outlined here) but that is a personal solution, which probably serves only to benefit me alone. Kropotkin’s belief in free-socialism, where the masses work together in harmony for the good of the whole without any regulating state body seems naïve. While I do not believe that capitalism is the solution to the woes of society, I believe that it is a natural state: society, if given free reign, will evolve into a capitalist system simply because humans are, by nature, greedy, selfish creatures, and capitalism rewards these traits.

Wow, that was quite a digression. As I was saying, the second half of the book was not as interesting as I do not share Kropotkin’s beliefs; however, that is not to say that I was disinterested in the second half. I found the descriptions of the Russian prison conditions (including the cells of the Peter and Paul Fortress, which I myself have entered, although only as a tourist) fascinating. I also quite agree with Kropotkin’s analysis near the end of the book of the uselessness of prison systems in general when it comes to reforming criminals or preventing crime. A pity he didn’t provide a solution!

One thing, though, that did strike me: Kropotkin renounces his title and his wealth to serve the cause of the masses as an anarchist. Yet, had Kropotkin not been born a prince, he would not have received the lessons (both the life-lessons and the educational-lessons) which led him to follow this path. Additionally, despite his renunciation of his royal lineage, his life was (indirectly) saved as a result of who he was. (While in an overcrowded prison, Kropotkin grew gravely ill. His sister, who was still in favor at the Tsar’s court, petitioned to have him moved to a hospital-prison, where he recovered from his illness, and from whence he escaped.) I wish that during the course of his autobiography, Kropotkin had addressed this dichotomy, this need to rely on his “former self” as he lived the life of an anarchist, but sadly, he did not.

Nonetheless, the book was fascinating, and I recommend it.

Moving on... I would like to mention that I finished Walden about a week ago. I must admit that the first part of the book (Economy through Solitude) was more interesting and more meaningful to me than the second. (What’s with me and the first halves of books these days?) In the first half of Walden, Thoreau outlines his rationale behind his relocation to Walden Pond, and I found it not dissimilar from my Hermit Manifesto. Henry David and I could definitely have had a long talk about economics. Unfortunately, the bulk of the second half of the book (excluding the concluding chapter) focused on life in the woods. I grew up in the woods. I know about this already. Descriptions of birds and fish and the sounds of nature... well, that just isn’t anything new to me. So, the second half was kind of a disappointment.... but everyone should at least read the beginning. He's got some intelligent things to say.

The past few days...

2006-03-20T11:09:00.000+03:00

Saturday we held a poker tournament at the AH. For me, this was incredibly boring. I have never been one for playing card games, I don't enjoy them and I'm not good at them. And I never understood this televised poker craze thing... who the hell wants to watch other people play cards? Yawn! But, we all had to be there, so I went, although I mostly assisted by staying out of the way. After poker, we showed Batman Begins (the AH shows English language movies on Saturdays). I hadn't intended to watch it... Saturday was such an incredibly beautiful day, and I didn't want to waste it in the basement watching a movie I'd already seen... but I couldn't help myself. I'd kind of forgotten how absolutely brilliant that film is. Just like when I saw it in the theater, I sat on the edge of my seat, grinning like an idiot throughout the whole thing. After the movie, six of us headed for Shesh-Besh. We really have become regulars there, to the point that the staff knows us. If any of you ever come to Vladimir as tourists, your guide will probably try to get you to eat at Traktir. Traktir isn't bad, but compared to Shesh-Besh, the food there's mundane at best. And when you go to Shesh-besh, you can't forget to buy a pitcher (koovsheen) of their semi-sweet red wine, as it is the best wine you will ever taste. For various reasons, only three of us were drinking from the pitcher, which may or may not have led to three people, arms linked, staggering along Bolshaya Moscovskaya singing about how our milkshakes bring all the boys to the yard. Sigh.

Sunday morning, Brooke, Youngmee and I went to Dobryak (Vladimir's very large, warehouse-like shopping center) for the purpose of finding spring coats for Youngmee and Brooke. Youngmee came away with a hot orange coat (I tried to have Brooke take a picture of the two of us in our spring coats: Apelsinchik and Apple-Green-chik as we like to say.... but unfortunately my camera was set on video not photo, and I didn't notice until, well, this morning. Whoops.) I bought an absolutely absurd shirt, that kind of makes me look like a Renaissance Elf. So obviously, I love it, even though I will be laughed at every time I wear it.

Renaissance Elf

After leaving Dobryak, I met up with Layla at the AH for belly dancing lessons. Layla's been teaching me, Brooke and Youngmee basic belly dancing moves for some time now, in preparation for entering us into a Russian belly dancing class. Yesterday I was the only one dancing with Layla. (Or trying to dance and making an ass of myself!) But it was fun, and today I ache all over in places where I've never ached before, so it was definitely a work-out. After dancing, we went over to the univermag, and Layla helped me pick out a scarf covered in coins to wear during belly dancing. Of course, I went home and wore the damn thing around for about an hour, jingling all the way.

Jingly-Jangly

In other news, we had a weird, sudden snowstorm this morning. It went from being sunny to blizzardy in about three minutes. Now it's merely overcast. So much for the wonderful weather we've been having!

Before and after. I miss the blue sky already.

And in honor of WD40, Gwen has posted a picture that I think I have to link all of you to: check it out! I think it's a sign that going to Korea next is a good choice :-)

P.S., read the first eight pages of the WD40 story if you haven't yet!

For cat lovers everywhere.

2006-03-18T12:01:00.000+03:00

CLICK HERE.
It will make your day.

Spring has sprung... a leak

2006-03-18T11:42:00.000+03:00

The great thaw is underway, as we are having yet another day of above freezing temperatures. I've taken some pictures to celebrate the soggy event that is spring in Russia:

The sidewalk in front of my apartment.

The sidewalk leading to the American Home.

There's still a lot left to melt.

But on the plus side, it's an incredibly beautiful day!

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

2006-03-17T21:18:00.000+03:00

Grrrrr..... Blogger has been having some problems (read about them here), which caused this page to be down all day (sigh). Mostly, I just wanted to say "Happy St. Patrick's Day." I'll write something interesting tomorrow, I promise! Time to put on the St. Patty's green coat and meander home through the icy slush.

Sunny, slushy and kind of warm

2006-03-16T11:00:00.000+03:00

For the past two days, it has been warm here. Of course, my current definition of "warm" totally spits in the face of my Floridian sensibilities. By "warm" I mean above zero C... in the plus one to plus three range. Seriously, after being below freezing for the past four and a half months or so, plus one feels fantastic. I was finally able to bust out the fabulous lime green coat that I bought here last October, and it's been great to be outside. Of course, there are some drawbacks. There are mountains of snow all over the place, some of which are as tall as I am, and at least as deep as they are tall. These snowy mountains have slowly begun to melt, filling the walkways of Vladimir with muddy slush. (I'm sure those of you from snowy climates are wondering why the hell I'm commenting on this, but I grew up in Florida, dammit. I'm allowed.) Anyhow, there are vast puddles, lakes, rivulets and full-on rivers of this slush everywhere I go, and they're likely to be around for a while. Today (thus far, anyway) has been slightly colder than yesterday, being zero degrees in the shade, and plus one in the sunshine. This means that in the sunny spots, one has to dodge mud-puddles, while in the shady places, one must avoid slipping on the fresh layers of ice created by the re-freezing of yesterday's slush. Hooray for spring!

The first eight pages

2006-03-15T17:09:00.000+03:00

Okay. I'm not entirely sure why I've decided to do this, and I really hope that I don't regret it later, but... I've decided to post the first eight pages of the WD40 Story online. They can be viewed by CLICKING HERE if you're interested. Please check them out and let me know what you think.

Because I always post embarrassing photos of other people....

2006-03-14T13:38:00.000+03:00

Today I dropped my lunch (a bowl of ramen noodle soup) in my lap. Luckily we have a washer and dryer at the AH. Unluckily, no one had any spare clothes. At least there were towels...

And just so mine isn't the only embarrassing photo...

More on IWD and Feminism (?)

2006-03-12T13:26:00.000+03:00

The other day (March 8th), I wrote my two cents on the celebration of International Women's Day, and on its evolution from a feminist holiday to a giving-women-gifts day. Some similar posts on other blogs are below:

Russian Blog: March 8 and Equality

Ruminations on Russia: March 8 and [Equality], Domestic Violence

Going "v gosti"

2006-03-12T12:40:00.000+03:00

Last week, as I was walking towards the bus-stop on my way home from work, I ran into one of my former students and her mother. They invited me "v gosti" (to come to their house as a guest sometime), and suggested this weekend. Of course, I agreed. Now, inviting someone over to your place "v gosti" is a big deal over here. If someone's coming over v gosti, you cook a full three or four course meal for them, and there will definitely be serious eating. (In a lot of cases, there will be serious drinking too, although this student and her family do not drink.) Yesterday I met Natasha (my former student - she's in one of Misha's classes this semester) at the bus stop by the Golden Gates, and we walked to the zagorodny bus stop (essentially the bus stop for going out of town). She and her family live in a little suburb of Vladimir, about 15-20 minutes to the south. I must admit that in a lot of ways the whole affair was kind of awkward. I do not know Natasha very well, and I did not know her family at all... and Natasha is incredibly shy. And, well, while I can always type up a storm about just about anything, when it comes to small talk, I totally suck. There were a lot of awkward silences. But, they were all very nice, and fed me a *lot* of yummy food. They also had a cat who looked a lot like Brie (my cat, currently living with my aunt), and who did the same my-eyes-get-big-and-then-I-attack thing that Brie likes to do. Natasha gave me a doll, which I thought was a really strange gift until she told me that she made it herself, and that making dolls is her hobby.

Doll made by Natasha

Natasha and me

Yesterday also served as kind of a reminder as to how small-town-ish this area really is, despite the fact that the population of Vladimir is something like 400,000 people. Natasha's mom mentioned that one of her friends has a teacher from the AH living with her... had I met Ira? (Ira is Brooke's host). Later, when I returned home and told Nina M about my evening, and where I had been, she told me that before she retired, she taught at the school behind the hospital in the region where I'd been. Well, turns out that's Natasha's school. Nina M wrote down her name, and said that next time she talked to her former colleagues, she would ask if any of them were teaching or had taught my student! It's a small world after all....

Click fraud or keep on clicking?

2006-03-12T12:32:00.000+03:00

It turns out that I have been perpetuating click-fraud with my repeated requests to have all of you continue clicking away at the ads atop my page. I discovered this (oddly enough) after clicking on one of said ads, which took me to the Computerworld IT Blog, which had an article entitled Google: Gig's Up For Fraud... and computer geek that I am, I had to read it. Here's the most pertinent excerpt:

"Last February, Google was hit with a class-action lawsuit over click fraud, the idea that advertisers were charged for clicks on online advertisements that were either fraudulent or done in bad faith with 'no intention of legitimate commerce.' The lawsuit was filed by Lane's Gifts and Collectibles and Caulfield Investigations against Google, Yahoo, Time Warner, America Online, Netscape, Lycos, Miva Media, Go.com, LookSmart, and Ask.com. The company now believes that it is close to a US$90 million settlement, a figure that includes lawyer's fees. The settlement must now be approved by a judge for it to be final ... Click fraud is a serious problem for on-line advertising companies, and Google has been dealing with the issue for many years now ... Google claims that their automated tools and filters catch most fraud attempts, but how sure are they that this is the case? And how many advertisers would be able to tell that invalid clicks were taking place in order to notify Google about them? This is a problem that Google will have to deal with as their business continues to expand."

Hum. Thoughts?

Another reason to love Thoreau

2006-03-11T12:26:00.000+03:00

So I'm not about 170 pages into Walden, and I've found yet another reason to be in love with Henry David. The reason why I like this passage so much will probably only be clear to a few of you, but I felt as though I should post it anyhow. Heep in mind, he wrote this while living in a HUT in the middle of THE WOODS. (Okay, so perhaps I'm getting too caught up in my personal pseudo-literary endeavors here...)

When I meet the engine with its train of cars moving off with planetary motion, - or, rather like a comet for the beholder knows not if with that velocity and with that direction it will ever revisit this system, since its orbit does not look like a returning curve, - with its steam cloud like a banner streaming behind in golden and silver wreaths, like many a downy cloud which I have seen, high in the heavens, unfolding its masses to the light, - as if this traveling demi-god, this cloud compeller, would erelong take the sunset sky for the livery of his train; when I hear the iron horse make the hills echo with his snort like thunder, shaking the earth with his feet, and breathing fire and smoke from his nostrils (what kind of winged horse or firey dragon they will put into the new Mythology, I don't know) , it seems as if the earth had got a race now worthy to inhabit it.

Yes, I am a nerd.

2006-03-10T12:09:00.000+03:00

Oleg Menshikov vs. Commander Data

What do you think?

Wicked Sunset

2006-03-10T11:41:00.000+03:00

There was an incredible sunset here in Vladimir last night. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to shoot it over any panoramic vistas or anything, but you get the point.

The Barber of Siberia

2006-03-09T11:43:00.000+03:00

Joanna, Youngmee and I watched the Barber of Siberia last night, and I recommend it to all of you. (Half of it's in English anyway, and you can get a DVD with subtitles for the rest - assuming you don't speak Russian.) This movie was directed by Nikita Mikhailkov, one of my all-time favorites, and starred Oleg Menshikov (that Russian chap who looks like Commander Data, who was the 'villain' of Burnt by the Sun). It also involved an American chic named Jane - although sadly, her last name was McCracken (Melissa, what does that make you think of? The whole movie I kept thinking, "Heehee. McCracken." I wonder what that dude's real name was.) The first 3/4 of the movie were hilariously absurd in that way only Russians can be hilariously absurd, and the last quarter was depressing, in the way that only Russian stories can be.... But do watch, and enjoy.

Happy International Women's Day!

2006-03-08T12:30:00.000+03:00

Happy International Women's Day! Today, March 8th, is known as International Women's Day, although as far as I've been able to tell, by international they mean (essentially) Russia and the other post-Soviet countries. If you're interested in reading about the history of this (originally) feminist/socialist holiday, please click here. I find it fascinating to read about the history of IWD, and it's kind of disappointing to see how it has evolved. On one hand, I got chocolate, cards and potpourri from various people all because I am in possession of a vagina. Easiest chocolate I've ever received. Plus, march 8th is a national holiday, meaning no work at the AH :-) And it's a less obnoxious holiday than Valentine's Day (let's just say I've never received a damn thing from someone who wasn't a friend or family member on that day - blah!). But the You have a vagina; have some chocolate thing seems a far cry from the original goals of IWD. It's also interesting to note that February 23rd is Defenders of the Fatherland Day here in Russia, another national holiday set aside to honor Russia's armed forces veterans. Now, why is this interesting? Well, Russia (or to be more accurate, the Soviet Union, in its early days) had an astonishing record for women serving, fighting, killing and dying in their armed forces - especially during World War II. Nonetheless, DFD has evolved into what is essentially a Men's Day here in Russia. I suppose there's nothing wrong with having a Men's Day if you're going to have a Women's Day, but does it have to be done in such a way that it excludes the women of Russia's armed forces from being honored on the Russian Veteran's Day? Anyway, now that you've had my two cents on the politics of IWD and DFD, let me tell you how we here at the American Home celebrated "Men's Day" and "Women's Day." For starters, we celebrated both a few days ago (Saturday, March 4th) with a dinner at Traktir (the restaurant nextdoor to the AH). The women gave the men thermoses and cards; the men gave the women scarves and roses. We all drank copious amounts of booze. Traktir put on a dance show for the guests. It began as traditional Russian folk dancing, and devolved into an erotic dance show, with the performers donning skimpier and skimpier outfits for each number. There was even a belly dancer (who we all watched closely, having had another Layla-led belly dancing lesson that afternoon. My conclusion? Layla was better! Of course.) Anyway, the evening was a lot of fun, although I must admit that I didn't leave my apartment all day the next day. I might have been a tad hungover. Maybe.

Joanna, Jane, Brooke, Youngmee

Lena and Brooke

Jane and Youngmee

Jane, Youngmee, Lena

Kelli and Nelly (Nelly is my Russian teacher)

I think at this point, the booze was starting to kick in.

Jane, Youngmee, Brooke: All slightly happier

Jane, Youngmee, Lena
Notice the slight blurriness of this photo...

Misha and Joanna
This picture is priceless.

Although speaking of priceless...
Vanya talks to Misha in his usual animated way :-)

Youngmee and Brooke
Youngmee redeems herself for this one...

And Brooke takes her place.
(I'm completely expecting an utterly horrific shot of me
to appear on Ruskiblog or Letters from Y any day now!)

Ira and Misha..... teeheehee :-)