День победы и т.д.

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 4^th.  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.

Sochi

04.May

I’ve come to realize that my most advantageous language learning has occurred through conversations with random strangers.  This evening, Chelsea and I were walking through Pushkin Park and speaking English.  I noticed that a middle-aged Russian man was looking at us with interest, thus I said hello (in Russian).  He said, “Guten tag,” so I said “Guten tag” back.  If he wanted to believe we were German, that was fine with me.  However, a minute later, he approached us to ask where we were from.  We answered honestly, which is a rarity, and said we were from America.  We proceeded to talk with this man for over an hour.  He was very interested in the differences between America and Russia.  Unfortunately, we couldn’t really remember what they were.  He would tell us how much money some profession earns in America verses Russia, and we would unknowingly shrug.  We also didn’t know what to say we he asked if Obama is a good president.  Luckily, we knew that he is the 44^th president.  I would’ve felt like an ass if the Russian knew that (which he did) and I didn’t.  When he asked how much drugs cost in America (I think he was referring to heroine) we also didn’t know.  Then he showed us his arms to prove he had no track marks and wasn’t asking due to desire, simply curiosity.  When I realized how long we’d been talking with him, I couldn’t stop laughing.  This is how I spend my free time, conversing with strangers in parks, or on trains, or while climbing through the letters of the Nizhny Novgorod sign.  Didn’t my parents teach me not to talk to strangers?

In other news, I just arrived back in Vladimir from Sochi yesterday.  I know most of you have never heard of Sochi.  It is a part of Russia with a sub-tropic climate, located on the Black sea.  It was beautiful.  I believe I posted nine facebook photo albums of pictures, so you can see for yourself.  However, it was warmer in Vladimir than in Sochi.  One of those freak things, you know, the kind Mother Nature decides would be hilarious.  While I was in Sochi where it was about 60-65 (F) it was between 70 and 80 in Vladimir.  Unbelievable.  It also rained quite often, which I didn’t find surprising (if it didn’t rain a lot, a sub-tropic climate/wildlife couldn’t be maintained).  The rain was rather pleasant.  The only down side was less time spent soaking up the rays on the shore of the Black sea and more time spent enjoying faux ice cream products in McDonald’s or along the embankment (board walk type thing?) of the sea. 

What is interesting about Sochi?  The mountains are beautiful.  You can get a nice view of Avkazia (one of the disputed territories of Georgia/Russia).  There is a lovely tea plantation, where you can pick your own tealeaves and learn how to make tea from them.  Honey is available in mass quantities and multiple varieties.  Homemade wine is widely available for purchase.  You can hike to a breathtaking waterfall and swim in the pool at the bottom (the only side effect being the freezing of your blood due to the icy coldness of the water).  You can spend hours searching for sea glass on the stone beach without approaching boredom.  There is Georgian food almost everywhere and it is fantastic!

Rather than delve into details about each day and excursion in Sochi, I’ve decided to simply post a few quotes from the trip, perhaps throwing in a bit of a story for the purposes of contextual understanding. 

“Can I dip my nut in your honey?” – Faye (holding an almond and coveting my jar [which after my bloody urine experience, I am convinced probably at one point contained a urine sample before my honey] of homemade honey)

“Smells fishy.” – Meagan (she was sniffing salted fish, of course it smelled fishy)

“Faye, make fire!” – Meagan (during a discussion about how we were going to trap the pigeons on our balcony and eat them for dinner, which occurred simultaneously with a conversation about how Faye was the least evolved of the four of us because her wisdom teeth all comfortably fit in her mouth)

“You have more personality than you know what to do with.” –Faye, in her you are ridiculous for even saying you lack personality Madelyn, voice.

“If war was always a cook off, Georgia would totally dominate Russia.” – Reese (we were eating fabulous Georgian cuisine after our hike to the waterfall)

“Yea, kudos for doing that with zero body fat.” –Reese (in reference to my swimming in the icy cold pool at the base of the waterfall/it is especially amusing because the next day he was the one who was sick and couldn’t attend the excursion to the tea plantation)

“I in general don’t like bird because they don’t have arms.  They’re like walking around like a double amputee.” – Kelsey (while we were sitting on the beach and she kept freaking out when a pigeon walked by/she also made me chase a pigeon out of her hotel room one day because she was so freaked out by it)

“I’m going to say a few words in English.” – Jon (hilarious because Jon, in my experiences, only speaks English and it is never just a few words)

“One stick, one lick, especially if you’re sick, but be quick cause there are a lot of people waiting for a taste of the honey.” – Jon (somehow context seems unnecessary)

“Becca, he’s making you look good,” – Kelsey (he – Jon, who was telling terrible pirate jokes over the microphone on the bus, after Becca had spent quite a while telling a few bad jokes about a donut)

“Vladimir group just… go to your rooms.” – Tom (before we got off the bus at the hotel & after the embarrassing amount of bad jokes we told on the bus in order to torture the Moscow group)

When Tom came knocking on our door after sentencing us to our rooms, I asked, “Babushka Tom, do you have our allowance (he was supposed to be giving us some rubles for dinner)?”  He responded, “It depends, have you been naughty or nice?”  Then Sarah came looking for us and Tom told her, “They can’t leave their room because they’ve been naughty.” 

“Cards usually go with drunkenness.” – Luke (we were trying to remember how to play card games, but realized we’d been taught most of them while drinking and thus couldn’t recall the rules)

“Ouch that hurts, oh my ovaries, I could use some more of that honey.” – Luke (after I insulted him in some way/he bought the kind of honey that is supposed to be good for female reproductive organs – apparently it was the only one he liked the taste of)

“Is that Masha?” – Luke (after hearing a loud noise outside of the train window at a stop/Masha followed me and Luke to the train when we were leaving Vladimir and wouldn’t go away until the train pulled away)

“It must have been you then.” – Tom (when Kyle asked, “What douche dealt these cards?”/Tom had been calling Kyle a douche throughout the entire game – apparently douche is on the approved list of words for ACTR RD’s to use in reference to their students, but dominatrix is not)

That’s all folks J

N.B. I am busy taking exams and preparing to head back to the states for a couple weeks, so this may be my last “Madelyn in Russia” blog entry until June. 

I wish every Thursday was this entertaining… (not for the squeamish)

Yesterday morning, Faye came a knockin’ on my door as she does every morning, so that we could head to school together.  As usual, I wasn’t quite ready so Faye came in.  Then I started regaling her with a tale of urinating blood, in order to inquire if she thought it was a problem, or if I should just ignore it.  The look on her face was enough for me to realize that perhaps, just perhaps, I should tell Tom about my current sitch and allow him to take me to the doctor. 

While we were waiting for the elevator, I, having no filter, continued to tell Faye the details of my possible medical problem.  I explained, that I had suspected there was some blood in my urine (either a day ago or a week ago – of course I couldn’t remember, because I can’t remember anything).  Then I told her that the night before I had come home feeling rather, well, shitty, and decided to take a bath.  As I sat on the edge of the bathtub, running the water, I felt the urge to urinate, but thought that I couldn’t (as I’d peed about 8 times in the prior hour and didn’t believe anything was left).  It was then, that I looked down into the white bathtub and saw that a bright red trail of what seemed to be blood was creeping down the side of the white ceramic.  I thought, “did I just piss that out?”  Sure enough, I did.  I thought, “well that’s new.”  Then I rinsed out the bathtub and took a bath. 

At this point in the story, Faye started to feel a little sick and sat down on the stairs.  When she felt better, she stood up, and we boarded the elevator.  About 30 seconds into our downward travel, Faye fainted.  I tried my best to catch her, which wasn’t very successful.  I did however manage to keep her from hitting her head on anything on her way down.  Once she was on the ground, I realized the elevator had stopped.  I don’t really remember what went through my head at this moment in time, I just remember being incredibly calm.  I pushed the button to call for help on the elevator.  Faye seemingly started to seize.  Didn’t really know what to do, and frankly, reacted in a shockingly cavalier manner.  Then a Russian woman started speaking to me over some speaker system.  When Faye came to, she thought that God was a Russian woman.  Hehe.  Ultimately, I managed to explain our predicament to the Russian woman god, and we called Faye’s host mom who came to find us.  She kept yelling, “Faye, where are you guys?”  Which, when we responded, “here, in the elevator,” didn’t really change much.  After about thirty minutes in the elevator, a woman pried the door open and told us to jump.  We were caught between floors.  Once we’d escaped the elevator, I went to class and Faye went home to sleep. 

When I arrived at KORA, I went to the director’s office to ask if Tom was in yet.  I was sure he wasn’t, but I just wanted to make sure someone told him I was looking for him.  Tom seemed a little shocked when I wanted to talk to him about my bloody urine rather than the elevator event.  Then he asked, “Is this what you were telling Faye when she fainted?” I said yes, and we laughed.  It is pretty amusing.  

My adventure with Tom at the clinic was quite amusing.  The Russian urologist did not like that Tom came into the room with me.  He’s like, “you really want this young man in here with you?”  “What does that mean she’s your student? She’s not a kid, she’s a grown up.  She can speak for herself.”  How awkward.  Then he told me to stop taking all of my medications, that my American doctors had prescribed me, and told me I shouldn’t go to Sochi.  I decided, I will keep taking my medications, AND go to Sochi. 

Last night, Tom called me to tell me that I needed to find a jar, wash all of the jam out of it, and bring in a urine sample to the hospital.  This seemed ridiculous to both of us, as we understand the need for the container to be sterile.  Tom joked that they would be looking at my urine and say, “There is a high sugar content in your urine.  Actually, there are blueberries in your urine.” Hahaha.  It couldn’t be because the urine sample I gave you was in a jar that formerly contained blueberry jam? 

As the American that I am, I decided to come to the internet bar today and research bloody urine on WebMD.  Possible diagnoses:

UTI (probably not, I’ve been tested for UTI’s constantly over that last year or two and have never had one)

Hemophilia (nope, would’ve bled to death by now)

Bladder cancer (don’t have that, I’ve been tested for it in the last year)

Hydronephrosis/Glomerulonephritis /Supraventricular tachycardia ( I don’t know what any of these illnesses are)

Polycystic kidney disease/Kidney infection

Diabetes, type 2/Diabetes, type 1/Diabetes insipidus/Diabetic ketoacidosis

Aspirin use (haven’t taken aspirin in months – cross that off the list)

Medication reaction or side-effect (distinct possibility)

Bladder stones (think I would be in more pain?)

Blood clotting disorder (doubtful)

Gonorrhea (well, that would be a first)

Interstitial cystitis (wait, I already have this!)

Pre-leukemia (certainly hope not)

Living in Russia, and reacting to medical problems by researching them on WebMD could be potentially hazardous.  I could decide I have 18 different diseases, and then go to the pharmacy, where they sell practically everything over the counter, and buy all the medications necessary to treat all 18 conditions.  Sounds dangerous.  I think, I just won’t do anything.  Well, other than continue to take this “paste for the health of the insides” that the doctor told me to take. 

While on WebMD, I found an interesting article and would like to give you all a little piece of it to chew on, “Unlike sex with a partner, masturbation can't give you a sexually transmitted disease. Nor will it subject you to the muscle strains, pokes in the eye, and awkward moments that can come with partner sex.” Also, “You don't need an expert to tell you that solo sex feels good, relieves stress, and is a terrific sleep aid.”

Las Vegas = Russia or Russia = Las Vegas

15.April

Today, I exposed my bare legs to the Russian air for the first time this year.  Of course, first I had to shave the lovely winter coat I had grown on my legs (for protection from the cold winter elements), which proved to be quite the challenge as I hadn’t shaved since before I arrived in Russia (I’m sure you wanted to know all of the details).  The point is, that the spring air felt lovely on my skin as I walked around Доброе in a dress – without tights (or leggings, or long underwear, or under armor or some combination of layers)!  It was +17 C, which is in the low 60s in fahrenheit.  I didn’t think such weather was possible.  However, it’s supposed to get cold again this weekend, perhaps even -2.  Not looking forward to that L

This evening, I made tomato soup, grilled cheese, and chocolate chip cookies for my host mom.  She loved it.  Not a big surprise though, most women enjoy being cooked for.  Plus, she really likes chocolate chip cookies.  The tomato soup wasn’t quite up to par with my standards, but not bad, it was made from fresh tomatoes. 

Yesterday, Faye came over and we laid on the floor together.  We pretended my ceiling was midnight blue and speckled with stars.  For a moment, I could really see them.  It’s been far to long since I’ve laid outside and watched the universe exist around me.  Then we started talking about rock climbing in Siberia, because I asked Faye if the stars were bright in Siberia.  She told me that she was way slow at rock climbing, and she remembers watching all the Russians who climbed twice as fast as her getting to the top and smoking a cigarette, she said, “Maybe I should start smoking.”  Perhaps it would help.

Which reminds me, a few weeks back, I glimpsed a couple walking down the main street in Vladimir, each clutching their young daughter by one hand (she was walking between them), and a cigarette in the other (holding it away from child).  I’m constantly surprised how common it is to smoke around children here.  It was quite the image. 

In other news, I’ve decided that Russia and Las Vegas are the same.  The evidence:

1.     Smoking indoors is almost universally accepted.

2.     Drinking on the street is common, but technically illegal.

3.     The fashion is outrageous.  Everyone thinks he or she is a rock star.

4.     The architecture is strikingly diverse.  You’ll see a beautifully designed cathedral (or casino) with its back to a street speckled with industrial or shack-like buildings.

I’ve made a few other observations that link the two locations, but they haven’t been fully formulated into points of evidence.  Check for updates in the future.

Faye and I just had a private dance party on my balcony.  It was exactly what we needed. Now it’s time to study for that grammar test I have tomorrow. 

Nizhny Novgorod

What happens when you put four American girls and 60 Russian soldiers in one train car? 

Chelsea, Faye, Kimberly and I solved this riddle on our trip to Nizhny this past weekend.

Once settled into our hotel, we caught a bus down town.  It cost 12 rubles.  Random price.  Some buses were only 11, and the trolley was only 9.  I prefer Vladimir, where everything is 10.  It’s a nice even number. 

Chelsea and I walked approximately 384 stairs down to the Volga, and then… back up the hill.  Then we ate at a Czech restaurant, where the  “15 minute” soup took 37 minutes to arrive.  After which we walked the ped walk and decided Vladimir is like living in the clearance rack of Russia.  We missed our inexpensive, provincial город.

Best part of the evening… Phantom of the Opera.  The prose was in Russian and the songs in English.  It was like watching a more sexual version of the show, in which Kristine is really quite whorish, and the Phantom is just a creeper.  I still haven’t figured out if any of the Russian audience understood what was going on, as most of the action of the play exists in the songs, which as I said were performed in English.  Oh and did I forget to mention that the theatre was located in some kind of police station?  Who could forget that? 

Wednesday

8.April

This morning, over breakfast (which had been prepared an hour early so that I could go in early to make up an exam), my host mom told me that I looked pretty and serious.  I thought, good, that’s exactly what I was going for, pretty, but serious….

About an hour later, I was sitting on the bus, listening to some jams, and I looked up and out the window and standing right there was Tatiana Mihkailovna.  She smiled and waved.  It was kind of startling, but nice.  When we got off the bus we walked to the institute together, and had a nice little chat along the way.  Then she gave me a grammar test, which I successfully bombed. 

Random note about Tatiana Mihkalovna, the other day in class, she said, “Ciao, bambino!”  I laughed for a good five minutes.

In other news, WWII history is somehow significantly sadder in Russian. 

I was in Coffee Bean with Lilit this afternoon, when a Russian man approached us, and proceeded to ask me to give him English lessons.  He said he'd paid me.  Lilit gave him my phone number, and then told me not to go over to his apartment (I'm not that stupid, do I look like I'm interested in being human trafficked?).  Then two of his friends came over and wanted me to teach them English too... I think I'm becoming a language whore...

Hey, remember that time, I went to meet with some Russians at the American House, and they asked me why I studied Russian, and I said, "because I love the literature."  Then they asked what time period.  I responded, “Soviet era.”  One of them looked at me quite strangely and said, “There wasn’t any Soviet literature.”  Touché. 

April is not Spring, just a monkey in a zebra outfit!

3.April

I love Friday mornings!  I can wander and dance around the apartment barefoot, and only eat if I want to.  It’s been lovely not having class on Fridays. 

What we do have on Fridays are excursions.  However, congratulations to me, I was the first to finish all eight excursion essays, and now I am free to enjoy the excursions without feeling the impulse to take notes. Ура!

So a little bit about the weather…

This morning the sun was shinning, the weather was warm - it was lovely.  I took my shoe to get repaired, and on the walk back I was actually sweating, and I was only wearing a lightweight coat.  Get this – I even saw a man beating a rug clean outside while wearing – shorts!  Then I noticed a couple preteen boys chasing one another and only wearing t-shirts.  It must be spring!

Several hours later…

I’m shivering uncontrollably outside Успенский Собор while we wait for our tour guide, who is 45 minutes late.  Even inside the cathedral, which is incredibly beautiful by the way (there is a wood carving of God holding the world in his hands, that I thought looked peculiarly like Zeus, at the top level of the cathedral, which I found particularly impressive), I couldn’t get warm. On the walk between Успенский & Дмитриевский собор the wind was vicious.  I thought my fingers might fall off. 

Just a couple hours later…

It began to snow.  Lots of snow.  Very cold, windy, and snowing.  I thought it was spring!

Luckily, Kimberly, Faye, and I were able to seek refuge in a restaurant named after Elvis.  It just opened yesterday (which at the time we didn’t know, because things come and go so quickly and quietly in Russia that we barely even notice).  When we walked in, there was no one there.  We wandered around thinking, “perhaps it isn’t open.”  Ultimately, right before we were about to leave, a girl showed up and took our coats.  We sat in a very comfy booth and had a lovely (and relatively warm) time. 

Somehow funny at the time, but perhaps not now, Faye said, “I like the word кальян better than hookah.  Hookah sounds silly – like foosball!”

Miracle? Or just an unexpected cultural rarity? On the way home to Доброе on the bus, a man stood up and told me to sit down in the seat he had been sitting in.  He proceeded to stand, beer in hand, for several stops (the bus was crowded as usual).  When a woman stood up and exited the bus, he tapped a girl on the shoulder and asked her if she wanted to sit, and didn’t sit down himself until she had said she didn’t want the seat.  Toto, I don’t think we’re in Russia anymore!

04.April

On my way into the center today on the bus, the man sitting next to me said, “Excuse me,” as he stood up to get passed me and exit the bus.  Was that English?  Did that just happen?

On my way home from the center, I noticed that Успенский was looking extra lovely due to the sunset.  I took a detour to take some pictures.  Vladimir can be so beautiful. 

Then I waited thirty plus minutes for a bus to come.  It was cold.

05.April

Sometimes Tatiana serves me a plate of beets.  I think beets taste like dirt, but not in a bad way.  Actually, in the best possible way.  And they do have a lovely color. 

Moscow…

Perhaps my last time there this semester, unless I decide to go for Victory Day, which would be a bit insane, but possibly worth it.

Chelsea, Kyle and I went to the market in order to shower our loved ones back home with gifts upon our arrival.  Having already been to Russia and done the bringing back souvenirs thing, I wasn’t entirely sure what to get (or whether to get anything). However, I do get quite the thrill from haggling.  I’ve gotten quite good at it.  What I’ve learned:

 

1.     Start to wander away to another booth selling the same product.

2.     Act as if you don’t even want what they’re trying to sell you.

3.     Be a pretty girl.

I also really enjoy conversing with the sales people.  They’re a barrel of fun.  Today, one guy wouldn’t stop talking to me.  Kept asking me about where I was from, asking if it was difficult to learn Russian – the usual.  He complimented my Russian, but said it wasn’t as good as his, which I found hilarious and said, “of course it isn’t, I’m not Russian!”  When I started to wander away to look for Chelsea, he asked me where I was going.  He wasn’t even trying to sell me anything at this point, just for some reason, didn’t want me to leave.

My favorite encounter of the day…

I approached a booth where a man said something to me in what must have been really terrible English (because I didn’t understand it, which also may have been because I was in “Russian mode” and I have quite a hard time switching back and forth).  Then he asked if I spoke Russian and I said yes, and he said good and we proceeded to converse in Russian.  However, at one point, he tried to get Chelsea to come over to by calling her “Senorita,” because he knew she was with me, and assumed that because I didn’t understand his English that we must be Spanish.  We laughed and I told him we weren’t from Spain.  He asked where we were from.  I said, “America.”  He said, “You’re Canadian.”  I said, “Yes.”  Then he told me a lot of people in Canada speak Russian.  I said, “not in my part of Canada.”  He asked me what the weather was like in Canada right now, and I said I didn’t know because I’d been living in Vladimir, but that presumably, it was cold.  In response to my comment that I was living in Vladimir, he said, “but you have an accent.”  I said, “of course I do, I’m Canadian!”  Then he asked me why I don’t speak English.  I said, “because I’m in Russia, not Canada.”  In retrospect, I should have said I didn’t speak English because I am a French Canadian.  Perhaps that would also explain why so many people in Vladimir are always insisting that I look French (it could also be the haircut and the beret).  This was an incredibly amusing experience.  Maybe you had to be there.

Thus far, I have been mistaken for French, German and Canadian.  Actually, today, one of the sales women Kyle bought something from said to him, “Oh you’re with a Russian girl (in reference to me).”  She must not have heard me say much.  Do I really look that un-American? Which, frankly, isn’t the right term, because as I realized today, Canadians are also American and so are Mexicans for that matter.  Do I really look that un-United States Citizen?  Better?

In other news…

“You know, Russia is known for its peace loving abilities…” – Chelsea (Context: conversation about the meaning of the word Владимир/Vladimir, which comes from власть (power) and мир (world) – which also means peace)

Ruslan showed us a picture of him in uniform with a gun. 

I asked: What do you shoot with this gun? Pigeons?

He said: Of course not, Japanese people & Chinese.

This is somehow more humurous because he is studying Chinese at the military academy, and because earlier in the day Chelsea, Kyle and I had been talking about how irritating pigeons were, and I had said I was going to go pigeon hunting with my foot (but clearly, Ruslan's gun would be a more effective, but possibly less entertaining weapon than my foot).

 

April is Spring, right?

It seems especially dark in here today.  When I get back to the states, in order to use the internet, I'm going to have to turn off all the lights, and play the soundtrack that is always playing here, or it won't feel right.

Today, we had visitors from Westpoint in our history class.  They're here to do an inspection of some sort because two of the guys on the program are from Westpoint.  They didn't say much, but how much is there to say about Stalin?  He had a very nice mustache?  ;)

30.March

Tatiana pulled out a stone and started cracking nuts open with it.  I suppose the nutcracker is one of the few luxuries yet to be invented in Russia.  Let’s add it to the list with the Ziploc bag, and the street drainage system.  I'm still unsure what kind of nut a фундук is in English.  Thus, we started to discuss them.

M: What kind of tree do фундуки grow on?

Т: A nut tree.

М: HAHAHA.  Of course they do…

Next, Tatiana dragged a bag of stones in from the balcony, that she apparently brought home from the sea.  She proceded to stand on them and look up at the light as if it were the sun.  I joined in by making sea noises.  It was very peaceful.  For just a moment, she was transported back to Sochi. 

We laid on the floor in the main room with all of the stones sprawled out before us for almost an hour.  It’s incredible how much each stone differs.  Some are smooth, or rough, or green, or black.  Some have stripes.  Some are round.  Each is an individual.  A beautiful individual whose appearance makes sense.  I rolled some of the stones around in my palms.  So calming.  So beautiful. 

Tatiana asked me if I’d ever seen a shark.  I told her I grew up in Delaware and that it’s a coastal state, so I went to the beach every summer.  She was jealous.  She told me to tell the next shark I saw that she said hi.  Now I miss the beach L

Saturday was quite the day.  The morning started off with a lovely all girls excursion to the banya.  We rented out our own room, ate food, sweated, beat one another with branches, and relaxed in the little pool.  Yay for naked girl bonding time!  I’m sure we’ll be back soon!  After banya, I went home to Tatiana’s birthday party.  It’s crazy how much they can drink.  After every toast (there were eight, one of which I proposed of course), Tatiana took a shot of vodka. She certainly can hold her liquor, which actually surprised me, because she never drinks when it’s not a holiday.  I’d never been to a Russian birthday before, and I’m glad I can say that I have now.  It was interesting talking to her Dad and her brother-in-law.  I don’t have much exposure to the older generations of Russian men.  Sergei, the brother-in-law, was hilarious.  He sang happy birthday in English, and told me that if I don’t start eating mayonnaise, then I can’t stay in Russia because Russian girls eat mayo.  I insisted I didn’t need to because I’m an American girl, but he refused to conceded, telling me that if I stay here much longer I will be a Russian girl, and Russian girls eat mayo. Below is a pic of (almost) everyone sitting around the table during the party.  There was so much food!