"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

"Of course he had lady friends... he had a moustache!"

So, unfortunately, my first weekend in St. Petersburg turned out to be quite boring.  Hopefully it gets better from here.
T.T. was at her dacha (a sort of rustic summer house that most city dwellers in Russia own and frequently visit during the summer) for most of the weekend.  I'm not sure whether this was because it was a national holiday on Saturday (Russia Day, which is actually a relatively new holiday and not very widely celebrated, considering) or whether merely because it was a weekend.  In any case, Latalia and I had the apartment to ourselves for the greater part of the weekend.  We woke up around 9 and made ourselves breakfast, then passed the time studying until 11:30, at which time we went to meet the rest of our group and Stas, our professor, in the city center for a group outing.  We used the metro for the first time and found out that it wasn't so scary after all (although Latalia did have trouble figuring out where to put her token in the turnstile...).  It also wasn't as crowded as I anticipated, but perhaps that is because of the timing - it seems to me that the city doesn't really wake up on the weekends until noontime (I don't know whether that's a St. Petersburg thing, or a Russian cultural thing, or a summer thing, or a city thing in general).
We met the rest of our group on Nevsky Prospect and wandered a bit before going to the Cafe Zinger on the second floor of Dom Knigi (literally house of books), the largest bookstore in St. Petersburg which is located in the old Singer Sewing Machine Company building.  The cafe was quite pricey so I only got a vanilla cream danish with fruit on it that was quite delicious.  Some of the other members of my group ordered hot chocolate, which turned out to literally be chocolate that had been warmed to a drinkable consistency.  I tried some, but it would have been too rich for me to have drunk an entire cup of it :P
Well, I thought the weather in Maine was crazy, but it turns out to be nothing compared to St. Petersburg.  The day was a little gray and menacing when we left the house, but we still weren't prepared for the deluge that suddenly hit us when we were out wandering near the Bronze Horseman.  We took shelter in a nearby Teremok, but not before getting completely soaked (fortunately, most of us had umbrellas with us.  I will personally make sure I don't leave the apartment without one from now on).  Teremok is the Russian idea of a fast-food restaurant, and they sell mostly блины (a kind of greasy pancake that can be filled with all sorts of things, from meat to potatoes to sour cream to fruit) which run from $1 to $3 in price.  I've found that most of the food in Russia is cheaper than in America, presumably because the raw materials are cheaper.
Finally we gained a brief respite from the downpour, which we promptly took advantage of to climb to the collonade of St. Isaac's cathedral, from which height we could survey the entire city.  I took some pretty amazing pictures from there - it was SO windy!!  Then we headed home, exhausted.  Since Saturday was my dad's birthday, I tried to call home (and got through with no problems), but international calling from my Russian cell phone is extremely expensive - it costs about 70x more to call America than to call another cell phone in my network.  Thus, I only dared to say "Hey, it's Erin, call me back please" before hanging up.  Unfortunately, Mom wasn't able to figure out how to do that from the Tracfone (from which it doesn't cost any more than calling me in Princeton) so I waited for the call in vain.  I occupied myself for the rest of the evening studying; not the most entertaining pastime, but extremely necessary with the amount of vocabulary we are expected to absorb per week.  It's a bit overwhelming at times, but the marked improvement I can already notice in my speaking ability is encouraging.

On Sunday I went to Calvary Chapel St. Pete again, this time with Phil (another member of the group who attends PFA).  Though he arrived late to our designated meeting place, by the time we arrived at the church at 11:10 the 11am service had yet to start.  Oh, Calvary Chapel.  It's good to know some things don't change ;]  This week we sang the Victory Chant in Russian - I loved it.  (It sounds very military and yet quite beautiful in Russian :])  After the service I bought the church's worship album and I can't wait to listen to it (hopefully on T.T.'s CD player) because it definitely has some songs on it that I know from back home.  Phil and I also tried introducing ourselves to some of the church members our own age, but soon realized that our limited vocabulary meant that we didn't have very much to talk about.  Or perhaps next time we should find a more talkative interlocutor :P
The weather on Sunday wasn't much better than Saturday - very unpredictable with periods of downpour interspersed with bright sunshine.  Apparently this is normal for St. Petersburg in June, but July and August can get quite hot.  Right now it tends to be cool in our apartment (enough so that I need my fleece or a blanket to be comfortable while studying) but I will probably like it less when it is 90 or 95 degrees outside and hot and stuffy indoors.  So I'll take it now.
On Sunday we had something new for supper for one of the first times.  It was macaroni (which only differed in the shape of the pasta) and котлеты (think ground mystery meat).  It tasted much better than it sounds.
I ended up spending most of Sunday studying - between breakfast and church, all afternoon after church (I came home almost immediately after the service because of the poor weather) and again after supper until bedtime.  When T.T. found out that that was all Latalia and I had done all day, she commented on how boring it must be.  It is, when I think about it, but I seem to have slipped back into Princeton mode where all I can think about is studying.  Maybe if the weather improves I'll be more tempted to explore and actually take advantage of this wonderful city, but only time can tell.  Hopefully I won't have too much homework each day to be able to do that.

I have a new favorite Russian word now: снегоход.  It means snowplow, and the great thing about it is that (just like in English) it is a compound word.  снег means snow, and the verb ходить means to go back and forth (to make many round trips).  Thus, a снегоход is something that makes many round trips in the snow.  I love it when language makes sense (which doesn't happen very often, and especially not in English :P).

On an unrelated note, this time I really will stop blogging every day.  Most of what I'm doing every day here actually isn't very exciting, and if I tried to write about it I would bore myself and you.  From now on, unless we do something special, I'll probably only blog 2-3 times per week, and they (hopefully) won't be as long as my previous posts.  Most of you are probably glad for this, although for my few devoted followers whom I know savor every word (Justin, Luke) I feel a small pang of regret.  However, in the general interest of not becoming completely boring and mundane, I will desist from (for instance) describing my dinner each night.  And now in all of the time in which I could be sitting in front of this computer blogging about all of my trivials, I can be out having more adventures actually worth blogging about.  It's a win-win situation.  :]

"Gm..."

Highlights of last week:

• finding out that Russians write "Gm" when they are thinking (as opposed to "Xm" which would be the closest thing the cyrillic alphabet has to an H)
• Finding hot chocolate powder (какао) at a local department store (as well as our professor, who helped us find the hot chocolate :])
• Actually carrying on a decent conversation with my host mother (Latalia and I were able to explain our rooming situation at Princeton - both of us got the short end of the stick during room draw and won't know our assigned rooms until the end of July - as well as talk about the fact that we are both on excellent scholarships, as are many students at Princeton) that didn't involve making fun of Latalia's appetite
• Discovering that the classes here are much smaller and more personal than lectures at Princeton - I feel like I'm back in one of the small AP courses I took in high school.  I'm a big fan of this.  :]
• Friday marked one week of wearing only skirts and dresses.  I even wore - get ready for this - high heels on Friday.  No joke.  And these weren't platforms, or the little 1/2-inch sandals I wore to prom.  These were legit 3-inch closed-toed monsters.  And I wore them ALL day, and even walked the mile between my apartment and school 4 times in them.  My feet are still sore. :P  (But I managed not to fall down at all, which is definitely an accomplishment for me.  If you know me, you know.)
• Getting caught up on this blog (which was then nullified by my not having access to a computer all weekend)

Other exciting (or otherwise noteworthy) things that happened:

• In our first reading class, we were given a poem that we have to memorize by this Friday's test.  It's by M.U. Lermontov and it's called "И скучно и грустно" (which roughly translates to "Bored and sad").  It's probably the most depressing poem I've ever read, and I took AP English Literature.  Think the book of Ecclesiastes, if you took out every reference to God.  Here's a pretty decent translation of it: http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/bored-and-sad/.  Only read it if you won't mind being depressed for a while.
• Also on Wednesday, we met our "Russian Friends".  Through this program, we are each paired with a young Russian around our age who is studying at the Nevsky Institute, and the idea is that we will do things together in order to get a better immersive experience.  Originally the person who had contacted me on Facebook, telling me that they were my Russian Friend, was a 23-year-old male grad student.  I'm sure he was plenty nice, but I didn't exactly look forward to the prospect of traipsing around a major city in a foreign country with some 23-year-old man whom I had just met.  I'm sure my parents wouldn't be too enthused about that either.  Fortunately (I suppose) my Russian Friend was switched (unbeknownst to me, by the way) so when we actually met our partners face-to-face, I was pleasantly surprised to have been paired with a girl closer to my age.  She is 20, in fact, and studies Central European regional studies here at the Nevsky Institute.  (I immediately wondered whether that included Serbia.  I should ask ^.^)  She started speaking to me in English and seemed surprised when I answered her in Russian (I'm not sure why she would think I wouldn't speak any of the language, after all, I am here in Russia?)  We finally agreed that I would speak to her in Russian, and she would answer me in English.  (I would rather she just spoke Russian.  I get enough English from my Princeton friends.)  We all met our Friends at once, so right across the table from me were my friend Mykola and his Friend.  I was laughing at Mykola trying to speak Russian to his Friend, and just generally being myself, when my Friend (her name is Анья) remarked, "I think you're crazy."  Grinning at her, I replied, "Well, it didn't take you long to figure that out."  (This was after we'd been talking for maybe 3 minutes.)  I didn't realize I was that obvious, but perhaps I should have guessed - Masha, Jelena, and Danilo, whom I met in Serbia, all said the same thing. :] :P  Not long after that, Anya asked me "Do you smoke?"  When I replied in the negative, she said "Too bad.  It's good."  (I very much doubt that, but I have heard that smoking is the national sport here in Russia - and I believe it.)  She then inquired, "Do you drink?"  To which I again replied that I did not.  She remarked, "Wow, you're boring."  So apparently I'm both boring and crazy, however that works out :D  It's okay - I have more fun sober than most people do drunk, and I remember it all. ;]
• On that note, we had a bus tour of the city on Friday.  I took all the stereotypical touristy pictures (just to make sure that I got them at some point, although I hope to get better ones later) and learned all sorts of random and relatively useless facts about St. Petersburg and it history.  Near the end of the tour, some of my friends were discussing where they wanted to go out that evening; whether anyone knew of any good bars in their neighborhood yet.  Being me, I said to one of them, "Just be careful tonight, ok?  Take care of yourself."  He knew what I meant - I care about my friends, and I think that alcohol in general is better avoided, and especially in excessive quantities.  One of the other members of the group, overhearing my admonition, took offense and exclaimed, "Really?  Are you serious?"  At which the friend that I had been addressing attempted to explain by saying, "She doesn't drink.  She's an evangelical."  Which erroneous sentiment I quickly clarified.  "No, I don't drink for the benefit of the people around me."  At this Phil, another member of our group, commented, "I'm pretty sure that's a good idea.  Although, you might not be any different drunk."  Thanks, Phil.  :P  Then, the rest of the group tried to figure out exactly what I would be like drunk - whether I would just get really quiet, or even more bubbly and annoying, or whether I would get snappish - personally, I don't really know, and I have no intentions of finding out, either.  
• On Thursday, we stayed especially late after school (I was blogging, Latalia was entertaining herself on the computers).  When we finally got home at 6:30, no one else was there, so we each went to our rooms to study.  T.T.'s husband, Vaseli, came home soon after us but didn't stay for very long, and when he left he locked the door behind him, presumably thinking that there was no one else in the apartment.  At least, that's what T.T. thought when she got home around 7:30.  This I only found out after getting so hungry by 8:00 that I came out of my room to ask if there would be any supper tonight (thinking that perhaps since we hadn't come home until 6:30, we had somehow missed it).  T.T., upon seeing me, exclaimed, "Emilia!  You're home?!"  Since Vaseli had locked the door behind him, and neither I nor Latalia are very loud by nature (okay, clarification, I'm not loud when I'm studying.) she had no indications that we were in the apartment, and she hadn't thought to check.  Needless to say, supper that night tasted particularly delicious.
• At the end of the bus tour on Friday (sorry for skipping around a bit, but I'm really trying to keep this short, if you believe me) Latalia went with Anna, one of the program directors, to get a Russian cell phone.  It turns out that it would be extremely expensive for anyone with a Russian cell phone to call her on her iPhone that she brought with her, as it would technically be an international call.  This was the first time that Latalia and I had been separated since arriving in St. Petersburg, and at this point Latalia still did not have a set of keys to the apartment.  However, she could get into the building and I promised to stay in the apartment to let her in when she got back.  This was at around 6:30.  By 8:30, I was getting pretty worried about her, so I texted Anna to ask if she was still with her.  She replied that she wasn't (which did nothing to allay my fears).  It had become cloudy on Friday afternoon and by 7:00 there was a full downpour outside.  Finally at 9:00 I heard the buzzer to the apartment and opened the door to find a very much soaked and bedraggled Latalia standing on the doorstep.  She had WALKED from across town IN THE RAIN WITHOUT AN UMBRELLA because she was too nervous about taking the metro, never having been outside the US or even in a big city before.  Poor child.  Sounds like something I would do.