"The Random parts of Life"

So, this week was much more exciting than last.  Which probably means that I'm beginning to settle in here, which is undoubtedly a good thing.

• My parents finally got through to me on the phone on Monday, and we talked for about 15 minutes before our call got suddenly cut off.  I still don't know why, but Mom told me that she had to try several times with the same number before actually getting through, so I suppose our connection was just lost.  After all, it was a cell-to-cell connection over a distance of about 8000 miles, so I guess it's not all that surprising.  But it was good to talk to Dad, at least.  They haven't tried again as far as I know.
• The weather was mostly rainy and cool all week, which kind of set the mood, unfortunately.  On Monday evening we had a kind of buckwheat porridge for dinner, and afterwards I felt very sick to my stomach.  But I had some Pepto-Bismol with me, so I took that and it soon put me right again.  However, we were unfortunately also served it the next night.  I (for obvious reasons) refused to eat it, but somehow the reason for my refusal was not properly communicated to my host mother.  I don't know whether she thought that I really didn't like it, or was just being obstinate, or what; but apparently the fact that I wouldn't eat it the second time rather offended her.  She was very cool to us the rest of the evening and on Wednesday morning wouldn't even talk to us, other than to tell us that breakfast was ready (although we have cereal, bread and yogurt every morning, she insists on preparing it for us).  As I could tell that I had deeply offended her, I was rather upset for the rest of the day; this was the day that I also began severely missing my friends - I'm not sure how much this was connected with my host mother's behavior.  Everyone else in the group (or so it at least seemed) hung out after school: exploring the city, attending ballets and operas, watching the World Cup, etc.  Latalia and I don't really live close to any of the other members of our group, and since neither of us have spent very much time in big cities, we are rather timid about venutring out and about by ourselves.  Thus we haven't really done any exploring thus far, and the grueling routine of class 9-2 and studying afterwards until supper, and then again from suppertime until bed, was beginning to tell on me.  It wasn't that I didn't want to do anything else: we live close to the zoo, which is situated in a beautiful park, and I also know that there is a very famous and extensive zoological museum nearby that I am very interested in visiting.  However, I was feeling very left out since none of the other members of the group ever invited me to go along with them, and I felt that the things that I was interested in weren't "high culture" enough for the others to enjoy.  I missed my crazy friends from back home: Jennifer, Carmella, Brooke, Alek & Emily... the people with whom I knew I could have fun no matter what we were doing; the ones who had the proper sense of humor to enjoy things like pickled fetuses or a circus.  :]  To make matters worse, my depressed mood (so I'm convinced) lowered my immunological (is that the word?) defenses, and I woke up Thursday morning with a horrible sore throat.  I still went to class (what else could I do?) but I felt worse and worse throughout the day and I could hardly walk by the time school ended at 2:00. Fortunately, an afternoon of laying low, a good night's sleep and a healthy dose of ibuprofen and tylenol seems to have cured most of my ills: today I'm a bit stuffed up but nothing else.  I'm also happy to report that my mood has lifted exceedingly: I bounded out of bed this morning with an inexplicable smile on my face, ready to face the glorious day (this is the nicest day we've had all week, sunny and clear and in the high 60s); i.e., back to my normal self.  To quote Emily Irvine, "You could cheer up a rock if it was having a bad day, so I'm sure you'll be fine."  I leave it to your judgement whether my infectious personality actually goes that far...
• Also, Latalia and I spoke to Stas about the situation with T.T. and he asked someone from the institute to call and explain why I had refused to eat the porridge the second time, as well as tactfully try to suggest that we should be eating supper closer to 6 than 8 (since lunch at the institute is served at 11, we are both starving by supper every day, which circumstance could very well have contributed to my averse reaction to the porridge).  Now Latalia and I are on much better terms with T.T., and it's a good thing, too: she's the only Russian aside from our teachers who will go to the effort to communicate with us in Russian.  It isn't worth it for Latalia and I to try to converse together in Russian, since we're on the same (extremely basic) level, and I have yet to hang out with my Russian Friend (that comes this weekend).  T.T. always seems interested in hearing how the other members of the group are doing, as well as our other friends (i.e. Nikola, whom she mistakenly called "твой boyfriend" once before I vehemently corrected her, asserting "у меня нет boyfriend-а" (I don't have a boyfriend) - that led to a rather entertaining conversation ;])
• This week was also a week of firsts for Latalia and I.  On Wednesday afternoon we decided to try to visit the Zoological Museum, only to find when we arrived there (on foot - we still basically walk everywhere, regardless of distance) that it was closed (presumably in preparation for the upcoming holiday on Saturday, the Festival of the Scarlet Sails).  Not willing to make the outing a complete waste, I proposed that we take a bus back to our apartment.  After much persuasion, I convinced Latalia that nothing bad would happen to us and we hopped on the first bus that came by (actually a троллейвус or electric bus that runs on the tram lines - I saw these in Belgrade, too, but have never seen the likes of them in America).  However, when it stopped at the metro station closest to our apartment, I proposed that we wait until the next stop, both to see where the bus went and to explore the city a bit more.  What I was unaware of is that buses do not run in circular routes, as I had assumed...  Latalia and I grew more and more nervous as we traveled further and further from our apartment in a not entirely friendly-looking neighborhood that neither of us had seen before, though I tried hard not to let it show.  Soon we were the only passengers on the bus, and when it stopped at a somewhat sketchy roundabout and the контролёр (ticket-checker) indicated that we would have to get off, I began to think that my idea might not have been a very good one.  Not to be discouraged, however, I proposed to Latalia that we begin walking back along the bus route and once again catch the first bus that was traveling to the metro stop near our apartment (all of the buses have a sign in them that lists the principal stops along its route, usually metro stations).  Which we promptly did, and this time we got off at that stop, not waiting to see where the bus would travel next.  And all was well.  However, I might have a bit more difficulty convincing Latalia to be adventurous with me next time, and possibly not without good reason ;]
• I, on the other hand, not to be deterred (or perhaps warned is the better word) by our experience on Wednesday, decided to take a маршрутка (literally means "fixed-route taxi"; it's like a bus but has no fixed stops, instead you tell the driver when you want to get out) home on Thursday, since I had gone in the opposite direction in order to find a store where I could buy a large quantity of filtered water (I'm still really skeptical of the water at our house; I'm not sure what's wrong with it, but I know we're not supposed to drink it straight from the tap) as well as some other snack food.  I found a great grocery store with good prices and an excellent selection but since I was still feeling poorly I had no intentions of walking the 1.25 miles home carrying a 5-liter container of water (which I bought for approximately $1.40 - at least prices for bottled water in Russia are reasonable).  I waited until I saw someone else flag down a маршрутка, then hopped on behind her (after checking that it was traveling in the right direction - the маршрутка also have the principal stops of their route printed on the side of the vehicle).  After figuring out that you literally paid the man driving the маршрутка, I asked him how much, at which he pointed to the sign hanging above his head that clearly read "27 рублей".  Oops.  Anyway, I paid him and then sat down, frantically trying to remember how to ask for a stop.  I hopelessly bungled the phrase but managed to convey that I wanted him to stop when we reached the corner of my street, which he did and I gratefully got off, thinking elatedly "I did it!!  I didn't die!!"  And thus I proved to myself that I'm not a completely self-destructive force when loosed upon a population center.  Perhaps. :D 

So, that was my week.  More emotionally tumultuous than the last, which makes me fervently hope that now I've gotten over most of my homesickness and fear of exploring and can now feel freer to take advantage of the spectacular city in the midst of which I find myself (dang those dangling participles).  I hope this for your sakes, too - I'm sure you'd much rather read vivid descriptions of the splendor of the Hermitage, the palpable history of St. Isaac's Cathedral or Church of Our Savior on Spilled Blood, or even the disturbing fascination of Peter the 1st's collection of preserved fetuses and a mummified baby mammoth, rather than my musings and whinings about how I don't feel that I fit in, or I'm too scared to leave my apartment by myself.  But this is probably something everyone has to go through at some point (or at least I hope so and that I'm not just crazy - which is a given ;]), so perhaps my rantings will be able to help some of you someday - I can only hope.  But until then, it's off to more adventures!  Пока!!! :D