09.May
Victory day is one of the most widely celebrated holidays in Russia. I tried to come up with a holiday that Americans are as excited about, but I couldn’t think of one. Perhaps we just aren’t very patriotic. Maybe if we had won WWII, like the Russians did, then we would have something to be proud of J In all intents and purposes, Victory day is celebrated in a similar fashion to July 4th. There are parades, and red white and blue flags. Of course, the parades only include soldiers and cadets, and the flags are Russian instead of star-spangled banners. In order to celebrate this important holiday, I went to the parade in Vladimir. Most of the Vlad kids went to Moscow for the weekend. I doubt they got anywhere close to red square to actually see the parade.
The weather was perfect today, so those of us who remained in Vladimir, decided to go have a picnic in загородный парк. We made a fire, cooked сосиски and enjoyed the weather.
Then everyone learned how to twirl sticks, or I taught them how, and they were seemingly endlessly amused.
Then we all tried to balance the sticks on our upper lips and then smile (without dropping the stick), it was practically impossible.
We found a tree that was very flexible, so if you sat on it and some one pushed it about, you could “ride it.” A little girl was very fascinated by this group of adults climbing into and riding trees.
It was quite an entertaining afternoon/evening. People kept staring at us. We knew they were only jealous because they couldn’t join our club.
08.May
What a pleasant day. We had our last excursion. How sad. Endings aren’t something I find very pleasing. However, perhaps beginnings are worse. I’m terrible at beginnings. At least I get to calm myself with the thought that I will be back in Vladimir in just two and a half weeks. This place feels like home. I’ve decided to tell myself that I’m only going to the U.S. on a vacation (because really, I don’t want to go at all), and then I’m coming back home to Vladimir. What a comforting thought. I’m going to be a wreck in August.
Bogolubova was beautiful. We went to a monastery, where Tom tolds us, “Don’t touch the monks!” Meanwhile he was making tickling motions with his fingers. There is a church in Bogolubova located in the middle of a field, close to a lake.
The water in the lake is clean enough to swim in, and there is plenty of grass to lie in and soak up the sunrays. I foresee myself spending many an afternoon there during the summer. It’s only about a ten-minute bus ride from my house (since I basically don’t live in Vladimir in the first place).
Post excursion, I took a walk around Доброе (the part of Vladimir I live in) and snacked on some ice cream. When I got close to home, I wasn’t ready to go inside (the weather was far too beautiful today), so I sat down on a swing, enjoyed the feeling of the sun on my skin, and people watched. I found this couple particularly intriguing.
Eventually I managed to coerce myself inside (or my stomach did). After washing dishes and taking a brief nap, I went into the center of town. I met up with Chelsea briefly before she headed to Moscow for the weekend. Then I wandered about a bookstore waiting for Lilit. We walked around a part of the city I hadn’t really seen, stopped to buy a drink at the продукты, walked to the main park of the city, sat on a bench and chatted. Lilit gave me a wise piece of advice, “Never talk to drunk people, Madelyn.” Then we caught sight of a man with a poodle and a stroller. I wanted to know where the child was (or if the stroller was for the poodle). Then we saw the mom carrying the screaming boy. Both of the parents were laughing. The mom put the boy down and he ran. He just wanted to wander on his own.
Lilit said she wanted a child, and I said, “yea maybe in like ten years.” She thought that in ten years she’d be too old to have a kid (she’ll only be 29 in ten years). I mentioned that 29 is probably relatively close to the average age at which Americans begin to have children. She agreed, and said, “For Russians it’s 11 or 12.” I found this hilarious. Lilit doesn’t always have the best opinion of Russians (because she’s Armenian & therefore would win a war against Russia solely due to the fact that Armenian food is far superior to Russian food). Fun times.
This evening, my Russian mom and I made лапша (it’s basically pasta). It’s quite a process. I had a blast. The product of our toils (before being boiled of course).
I didn’t know the word for rolling pin, and when I asked what it was called, she told me and then went into a story about how her grandmother used to hit them with a rolling pin. She told me about one time when she was staying at her grandmother’s in the summer, she met a boy, and they went on a date. While she was gone, her younger sister told the grandmother that Tatiana was with a boy. Then the grandmother came running through the woods towards the lake after Tatiana with a rolling pin. When they (boy & T) caught sight of the grandmother, the boy got on his bicycle and quickly rode away. I adore when she tells me stories. It was such a lovely day.
6.May
I shouldn’t be allowed in bookstores. They are dangerous places for me to be, especially Russian ones. Chelsea asked me for some advice on what to read over the summer. She wanted Russian literature suggestions. We went to a bookstore where we proceeded to spend at least an hour, while I piled her arms full of books. Good luck reading all of those this summer Chels J I’m having a love affair with Russian literature. It’s possible the only kind of love that can last a lifetime.
We had to do our OPI interviews on the phone at Tom’s apartment. As usual things were moving behind schedule. While we were waiting, I got Tom to bust out the wedding pictures. It looked lovely. Margarita’s dress was beautiful, and Tom looked dashing. It seems to me (from this one set of wedding pics, which clearly makes me an expert), that Russian weddings are much more laid back than American ones.
Upon arriving home I was met with a “salad.” It was a plate of lettuce about the size of my head. Luckily, the bitterness of the lettuce was masked by the sourness of the lemon, which had been squeezed on top of it. Still, I couldn’t help but think I had been signed up for some kind of “how much lettuce can you eat” contest.
In other news: Team Vladimir’s favorite vegetable is – asparagus!
5.May
Russian mom – “This is called a hamburger.”
Me – “No, this is called a sandwich.”
Either way, I didn’t eat it. Sausage, cucumbers, and cheese make much more sense on an individual slice of bread rather than in sandwich form. I’m such a disappointment. I never eat anything. Poor хозяйка.
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