Под дождем

22.June

If I had ten rubles for every time a Russian asked me if I was French, insisted I was French, or told me I looked French, I would have bus fare for at least a month.  And yes, this occurs even when I am not wearing a beret.  In fact, probably more often when I'm not wearing one.

The Vlad group spent this last weekend in Moscow.  It rained the entire time we were there.  For I moment, I thought we had accidentally traveled to Petersburg.  But no, the weather is just as unpredictable and wet in Moscow.  However, I shouldn't judge because Vladimir is just as uncooperative.  Luckily, our storms usually occur at night.  

Despite the weather, we managed to enjoy our time in Moscow.  On Friday night we met up with a few of the Moscow students.  As it was raining, we decided we should go somewhere inside and warm that sold alcohol.  Over the course of a few hours and a few drinks we discovered that the combination of a table of graduate students and alcohol, leads to incredibly ridiculous conversations.  I believe we managed to thoroughly discuss absolute morality, Truth (with a capital T), sexual orientation and social stigmas, amoung other topics.  The next night we did our drinking in the hotel (upon recommendation of TM), where we got into an intense discussion about whether Stalin or Peter the Great was the better leader.  Conclusion - 3 to 1 Stalin:Peter.  

After the circus, which was, well, not the worst way I've spent my time, TM asked me if I was going to walk around the city more.  I said no.  She asked if I was going to go to sleep.  Again I responded with the negative.  Then she asked if I was going to go buy a bottle of vodka.  I said yes.  She said, "That's the right decision!"  It is that very bottle of vodka that let to the Stalin vs. Peter conversation and to JR asking Eric if he ever gets lonely, or if he needed a hug.  Then we all participated in a massive group hug around Eric.  

In other, more culturally enriching news, I went to a contemporary art museum I'd never been to before.  There were a lot of very intriguing exhibits.  I especially enjoyed one entitled "Признаки революции."  It depicted the revolution in Petersburg with elephants.  Another strange, and also incredibly annoying piece, was a sculpture of the letters of Yeltsin's name that sung a very strange version of the song, "Kalinka."  I couldn't get the song out of my head for quite some time, actually, it's still there.  I also spent a brief amount of time in the Tretyakov Gallery with some students who had never been there.  However, modern art is far more my style, so I left rather quickly to search for the Tretyakov Gallery of 20th century art, but on the way was sidetracked by the other modern art museum.  

Random fact:  I spent more money in a day in Moscow than I spend in a week in Vladimir.  Ouch.  

18.June

There are moments, although few and far between, when I think, “it would be nice to be in a country where I natively speak the language.”  Usually, it is when I want to tell someone off.  Although I probably could sufficiently insult someone in Russian, I’m never quick enough.  Allow me to tell you a story about one of these moments.  The women who work at the ticket касса at the train station are notoriously unpleasant.  Yesterday, I went to purchase tickets to and from Peter, and had a fabulous experience with one woman in particular.  After standing in line for what seemed like eternity, I asked the woman if I could pay with a credit card.  She tartly responded, “If there is a sign in the window that says you can pay with a credit card, then you can pay with a credit card.”  I was put off by this, because those signs rarely mean you can actually pay with a credit card (at least not in Vladimir), AND because last time I tried to buy a train ticket in that station with a credit card, the sales woman reprimanded me for not asking about it at the beginning of the sale, and refused to let me pay with anything other than cash.  This time around, I tried to do it in the right order and I got a negative response.  After arguing a bit over what places were available on what dates, she asked for my passport for the ticket purchase.  Once my passport was in her hands, she said (very condescendingly mind you), “Oh, a foreigner.”  I was perturbed.  Yes, I am a foreigner.  Could you not tell by my accent and possession of a credit card?  Jesus.  I hate the train station.  But, as I am having a love affair with Peter, I suppose it was worth it. 

Today at lunch a man made eye contact with me and called me красная шапочка (little red riding hood), presumably because I was wearing a red beret.  Then a few minutes later, as I was leaving, he came up to my and said, “Я волк/I’m a wolf.”  I ran away.  Earlier this morning TM called me красная шапочка as well, and asked if a wolf had eaten me.  Not yet, but there was a close run in.  Also in reference to the beret, Tom said, «I didn't know we taught French here.» He always makes French comments.  Is it not possible for an individual to embrace the beret without seeming French?  Or edible?

Since my return to Vladimir, TM and IA have mentioned that I'm a completely different person than I was during spring.  They are probably right, but their reasons are endlessly intriguing due to their relative inaccuracy.  For instance, TM noted that 1. I eat at lunch (I still don't eat much more than a plate of rice and now Sarah isn't even around to eat the crusts of my bread).  2.  I go to Folklore & on excursions (I only went to folklore once to give a good "example" & I've never missed an excurion before).  3.  I'm thinner (perhaps, but that's not from my two weeks in America, its from my life in Russia).  4.  My face is rosier (the sun came out & I am no longer living in the eternal darkness of Russian winter).  After informing me of all my "changes," she asked if I was "in love again or something."  She insisted that girls' faces are rosier when they are in love.  I insisted that no, I am not in love, it is just a new shade of blush.  As a matter of fact, I am the opposite of in love - I am free and it is fucking fantastic.

Instead of grammar, TM and I spent part of our time together today looking at my wedding pictures (it was associated with a grammar lesson in which a special dress for a wedding was mentioned, and she asked if I'd had one, so, I showed her).  She said, "You look so different.  You used to be normal sized and now you are skinny.  What happened?"  I told her I didn't know.  Perhaps, seeing as I was a teenager in my wedding pics, I've just grown into myself a bit.

Speaking of weddings, my sister here is now trying to get me to marry her friend.  She asked if I wanted a Russian husband and insisted that somehow being married to a Russian would be a wise decision.  I attempted to explain that I'm not exactly in the market for a second husband quite yet (or EVER).  But there is now a Sergei out there with my phone number (and yes Chelsea, this one's name actually is Sergei hehehe).   Better yet, Anna told her husband and their friends that I am actually related to her.  When Roma (her husband) asked how we were related, I didn't know what to say, thus, I said nothing at all and changed the subject.