forward.

"Where is the one who in the native language of the Russian soul could pronounce for us the mighty word 'forward'?  Century after century passes, and a half a million stay-at-homes, sluggards, and blockheads are immersed in deep slumber, but rarely is a man born in Rus who is able to pronounce this mighty word..."

—Nikolai Gogol 

Тоска.

It's nice to know that even when I can't find the words to describe Russia, there are great Russian writers who can articulate them for me and friends (like Emily) to point me to them.  There are lots of words in Russian that simply do not have an English equivalent.  Some words, like тоска (toska) represent an idea, a state of mind, the essence of the Russian soul.  

"No single word in English renders all the shades of toska.  At its deepest and most painful, it is a sensation of great spiritual anguish, often without any specific cause.  At less morbid levels it is a dull ache of the soul, a longing with nothing to long for, a sick pining, a vague restlessness, mental throes, yearning.  In particular cases it may be the desire for somebody of something specific, nostalgia, love-sickness.  At the lowest level it grades into ennui, boredom."  -V. Nabokov

I miss Russia a lot today.  

Another Russia?

Yesterday marked parliamentary elections for the Russian Federation.  It was a big event, for sure, that I encourage everyone to follow (check out some cool pics from the election here).  As much as I enjoy analyzing Russian politics, I'm going to refrain from regaling you with details about the election, including the decline in United Russia and it's implications for the Putin/Medvedev regime.  And don't get me started on the election fraud.  It's very easy to get caught up in all the political drama and think about the elite powers and how the election affects the rule of Russia and policy, and that is where my mind has been for the past few days.  I hadn't been thinking as much about how the elections are affecting people on the individual level.  But tonight I learned that a friend from Smolny was arrested at a protest and is being detained without communication to wait for her court date.  This news was completely sobering and brought my attention back to the many people, who like Katya, are being persecuted every single day for trying to build another Russia.  During my time in Russia and in Belarus, I heard many stories of friends and friends of friends who were arrested or detained unfairly, and there was absolutely nothing that they could do about it.  These practices are disgusting and completely unjust.  They make me very angry, yet very grateful for my citizenship and my country.  America is not without its problems, but despite these problems, we have liberties, and we have rights.  Never, never take that for granted.

While in St. Petersburg I attended a few protests probably very similar to the one at which Katya was arrested (no one freak out) and was able to see first-hand the fight for change.  I wrote about the experience but never posted because I wasn't able to write something that satisfied my desire to accurately express my feelings about the Russian political climate.  I'm still very dissatisfied, but all the same I'm going to post some of the things that I was writing in an attempt to help just a few more people understand the frustration that I feel towards Russian politics, the corruption, Katya's arrest, and the lack of solution that I see to the many problems in Russia today.    

   

**March 31, 2011

So I have to confess.  I did something that was probably stupid today (but absolutely worth the risk).  I went to a protest.  On the 31^st of every month a group of citizens who are dissatisfied with the state of Russia and St. Petersburg gather in front of Gostiny Dvor.  They gather on this date because Article 31 of the constitution is the right to freedom of assembly, a right that they feel is threatened.  Before anyone gets worried, let me just say that I was very careful, and the protest was very calm.  When we approached the crowds I was taken aback by the amount of law enforcement that surrounded the area.  Helicopters flew overhead, the equivalent of the SWAT team stood ready to pounce, and the paddy wagons were parked just in case they needed to haul of mass numbers of protesters.  But all of these precaution measures were unnecessary, as the protest was really chill.  In the first fifteen minutes of being there, the guy who seemed to have been the leader was taken away, so things were a bit unorganized after that.  People would stand around for a while, something would happen, then everyone would stand around again until the next round of action.  The most exciting events included a dude repelling down the side of Gostiny Dvor with a sign calling for Khodorkovsky (imprisoned Yukos oligarch) to be freed and a pigeon/penguin that was arrested.  I was empowered to see people out making a statement for change. I’m not going to share with you any elaborate analysis of Russian politics (To be honest, I’m not really sure what my analysis would be).  I will, however, share the question that has been floating around my mind, a question to which I don’t have an answer: What is right for Russia politically?  There are clearly some things about this country that need to change.  Not everyone’s voice is heard, rule of law is almost non-existent, and corruption is rampant.  Life is hard (though not impossible) for most people, and there is a sense of hopeless political apathy that pervades the population.  Despite all this corruption, Russia is probably as stable as it has been in the recent past.  So it makes me wonder, at what point do you sacrifice stability in the pursuit of ideals, regardless of their value?  How far do you go in pursuit of democracy?  In pursuit of change and choice?  And is real change even possible?  Is there hope for another Russia?  These are hard questions to answer, but things that I fruitlessly think about often.  No matter how much thought I devote to them, I always come back to the fact that I really don’t know what is right for Russia or what is even possible.  

A call for Mayor Matvyienko to resign. 

Politically-minded baba.  

Dude repelled off the roof of Gostiny Dvor with a sign calling for Khodorkovsky to be freed.

Pigeon/penguin (true identity disputed) who, I later learned via the news, was arrested.

Police surrounding the crowds. 

SWAT Team equivalent.

Another Russia?

невский проспект.

"why did i go to nevsky?  i have no idea.  but i was simply drawn there at every opportunity."

-notes from underground.

let's do it together...

Putin's/United Russia's new campaign ad.  I wish I could be more surprised, but...  As my friend Emily points out, we should really be more concerned that two people are in the voting booth together, not that they are getting hot and heavy.  True words, friend. 

one foot in and one foot back.
but it don’t pay to live like that.
so i cut the ties and i jumped the track.
for never to return.

possibilities?

Belarussian cell phone company "life:)" advertisement
"EVERYTHING IS POSSIBLE!"

Bank of Russia's advertisement in St. Petersburg
"RUSSIA.  А LAND OF POSSIBILITIES"

what is russia?

things i almost remember...this side.

the rush of wind in my face as a train approaches.  сочни.  immediate connections.  пакеты рива гоша.  the closeness of public transit.  darya pushkina's skin tight leather pants.  тоска.  nights of wandering the streets with katya and stas.  dancing all night on думская.  feeling like a potato all bundled up.  mars bars.  маршрутки.  sunshine on ice crystals in the air--like glitter.  20 ways to uncork a bottle of wine without a corkscrew.  sakai announcements.  air so cold you can't breathe.  walks across the neva.  endless hours wandering the hermitage. always wondering what my next meal will entail.  чудо.  deep, dark thoughts.  free hugs on nevsky.  banya bliss.  fried eggs and fishsticks.  the realization that the murse is alive and well.  towering lenin statues.  the sweater.  ta-ta's.  the feeling of contentment after a бизнес ланч.  good tea/bad coffee.  watching "friends" during dinner with olga.  heart-to-hearts and cider in park lomonosova.  being keen.  rocking out to gogol bordello/bon jovi in double bar.  honesty. яблочный сок.  jim chambers.  eating blini everyday of maslenitsa.  the thrill of running down the escalator.  heinous haircuts.  sunshine breaking through the grey.  тапочки.  cloves.  that dark and twisty day.  pistachio ice cream cones.  always seeing someone i know on nevsky.  the first day i didn't have to wear a shuba.  чудо in the nude-o.  long escalator rides.  glorious babushki--gold toothed, beautifully lined, platok covered--selling on the street, grabbing my hand, bossing me around, yelling at me.  riding the пятёрка.  near death experiences.  the illusion that i had a lot of work during midterms.  pazhalusta man.  escape in gilmore girls and алиса.  so much ЧАЙ.  late night ленд runs.  getting jagged.  church hopping, lighting candles, soaking in the spirituality.  toasted apt.  shoe stores on vladimirsky.  pigeon friends.  кальян.  realizing the universality of sports.  smolny security.  questioning everything i thought to be true.  ирландская катастрофа on st. patty's day.  scrabble.  булочки.  the first sight of the sidewalk. random dudes peeing in my двор.  the lowering of standards.  philharmonic.  prado exhibit.  2 liter bottles of water.  watching the bridges go up and down.  cacs.  chinese четверг.  только CKA, только победа.  letters/emails from home.  nasha masha.  always smelling like smoke.  birthday shots via skype.  dvor pets are your pets.  sitting on roofs at primo.  the boys' homework beers.  feeling proud for accomplishing stupid things.  pda.  cars driving on the sidewalk.  дворцовая плошадь cleared for the first time.  lying on my диван doing absolutely nothing.  the war of the kopecks with the stolovaya lady.  most epic human wave ever.  выборг.  dokumenti.  nutella gluttony.  cats in the post office.  perfectly shaped snowflakes.  милиция/полиция.  hanging in the scrabble room.  10 rub grechka from the stolovaya.  adams, matt kendall, elena, yulia.  ребята.  forgetting what it's like to live in america.  солнечные зайчики.  swing dancing in the galleria.  cowboys and indians.  the transit trance.  oversized bananas.  impromptu street music.  don't think twice, it's alright.  being called zaichka/lizinka/lizachka.  taste-testing pastries at printmaking.  olga's pirog.  dates with arielle in the park.  russian bebes.  shaverma wednesday with meagan.  СПБ.  cat litter smell of the pochta.  family of бомжи in my dvor.  romances.  first time i felt hot.  tutoring sesh with lena, dasha, and fedya.  hedgehog kisses.  late nights at styop's and ashley's apt.  fruit stands on the street.  sitting and thinking on the fontanka.  honey beer in novgorod.  easter.  getting yelled at every day.  marina olegovna.  шашлики.  aimless strolls through the city.  buying a bottle of vodka at 9 in the morning and not looking like an alcoholic.  крестный вход at midnight.  tvorog.  зоологический музей.  pigeons splashing in the fountain.  pushkin.  daily trips to дикси.  smolny printing room.  question: what is life before russia.  book club.  giving directions successfully.  yogurt and muesli.  ремонт.  nasha masha, masha blondinka, that other masha.  tutoring at тёплом доме.  olga phonetica's red boots.  full satisfaction in a moment.  dark and twisty days.  pickled подарки with larachka.  being wooed at the рынке.  midterm meetings with darya, lyudmila petrovna and adams.  my cell phone.  смузи.  the sound of music.  rollerskaters.  walks through primorskaya.  all-nighters on the zaliv.  emily's snarkiness.  lara's love of ёжки.  cafe premium.  sunsets.  белые ночи.  museum night with ariellechka.  the turkmenis.  always being covered in ink.  прогулки.  my indestructible room.  кофе хауз.  sitting on my bed reading my dictionary.  hp sorting.  pure and perfect moments.  realizing that письменная речь is fun when we just talk to natalya.  setting a 57 minute record.  teremok.  point system of nationalism.  ksenia.  the look on semyonov's face when he realized he was about to teach class in russian.  блин.  the deep spirituality of an orthodox service.  the faces of the people i pass everyday.  max's friend on galernaya.  synchronized applause.  rhodes reminiscing with jake.  adams's analogies: pokemon, gills.  the stolovaya lady.  smolny.  the randomness of everyday life.  ♥piter.             

Питер.

tea time wisdom.

"I make the most of all that comes, and the least of all that goes."

nevsky prospekt.

"the devil himself lights the street lamps to show everything in false colors"

-gogol

*yet somehow we managed to see clearly...or did we?

a snapshot of kiev.

tourism and immigration.

Last night my friend Sasha shared with me an anecdote.

A man dies.  He has lived a good life but is given a choice: heaven or hell.  Unable to make up his mind, he asks if he can visit both places before he decides.  He visits heaven where everyone is sitting around calmly and peacefully.  He thinks that it is nice but maybe a bit boring.  He then visits hell.  It is like a big party.  Everyone is sitting around drinking beer and vodka having a good time.  After he has visited both places he is asked again where he would like to spend the afterlife.  Since the man has lived a quiet but upstanding life, he decides he wants to party in hell.  But as soon as he gets to hell the devil grabs him and throws him in a frying pan.  The man is immediately in shock.  As he lies frying in the pan he exasperatedly exclaims to the devil, "When I visited before it was a great party!  That is what I thought hell would be like."  The devil responds, "There is difference between tourism and immigration."

And this, kids, is why I have to come back to America.  Because if I don't I'm going to be fried up like a kotlet and eaten by the devil (I'm pretty sure that's how one of Dostoevsky's characters met his end).  

what a cutie!

Sweet Little Marusia

the bane of bureaucracy.

There are lots of things that I love about Russia/Belarus (I may have mentioned that once or twice on this blog).  Then there are some things that make me want to pull my hair out.  One of those things is the impossibly convoluted and inefficient bureaucracy and all the paperwork that goes along with it.  Once upon a time I thought that the US government is extremely bureaucratic and hard to maneuver, but after six and a half months in the former USSR, I will never take for granted a) the benefits of being a US citizen/having a US passport, b) the comparatively few bureaucratic hoops we have to jump through to get things done, and c) the freedom and possibility of America.  If you’ve talked to me at all while I’ve been abroad, you’ve probably heard me talk about my visas.  They’ve been the theme of my time abroad (Therefore it's only appropriate that I complain about it to the whole world:).  There are only two countries in Europe that Americans need visas in order to enter, and of course I chose to go to both of them. 

Friday I got finished applying for the last of three visas that I have painstakingly had to procure over the last six months.  I’m heading back to St. Pete in a week to fly home and I need a transit visa because my student visa has expired.  If you’ve never applied for a visa (especially applied in a country where you are not a citizen and where you have to communicate in another language), here’s basically how it goes down: spend a couple of hours trying to navigate vague and unhelpful consulate websites to realize that you have absolutely no idea what documents they really want or which application is current; bring every document you have to the consulate, and after they finally let you in the building, find out that (surprise!) you don’t have enough documents; go back to the consulate the next day with all necessary documents; wait to go through security; spend two and a half hours going from window to office to window to office to table to recopy all forms to window to office to window to… (all the while trying to give suitable answers in Russian to questions like: Why do you need to fly out of Russia?  If you want to go to Russia why are you going to Ukraine? Were you really a student there?  Why do you want to stay 48 hours?  This isn’t really a transit visa…); finally get the man in the office to sign off on my visa after arguing my case/more or less pleading; go to pay at cash register; realize that I don’t have enough cash to pay for the expedited visa and that she won’t take my card; leave the consulate and ride the tram ten minutes in the opposite direction to find an ATM because there are none anywhere around; ride back to the consulate and go back through security; pay the lady a ridiculous amount of money (in Belarusian rubles after spending a few minutes calmly explaining to the lady that even though I am an American there is no way in heck I'm going to give my precious US dollars to government agencies that rip me off and make my life so complicated); leave the consulate with a measly slip of paper that tells me I can pick up my visa on the same day that I am leaving; PRAY TO GOD that they actually have it ready.

Basically this system is ridiculous but absolutely necessary to go anywhere.  And if I think it’s hard for me to navigate the bureaucracy as an American, it does not compare at all to the mountains of paperwork that Russians/Belarusians have to go through to get visas.  I need a visa for Belarus and Russia and nowhere else.  They need a visa for basically everywhere in Europe except Belarus and Russia.  My friends Sasha and Egor (who I am staying with in Minsk) are planning to take a trip to Italy at the end of the summer, so they are in the miserable process of applying for a Schengen visa (for all you Americans who have the luxury of not having to know what that is, look it up and appreciate the possibilities of your passport).  As the three of us sat around the apartment worrying about our visas, we couldn’t help but laugh at the irony (we all need visas to the place where the other can go without a visa, no problem) and began to plot ways to somehow switch passports in order to make life easier (yeah, we never figured that one out...).

I say all this to say that I have come to appreciate being American more during my time abroad.  Don’t get me wrong.  America is not without its problems.  It is very far from perfect.  But there is no denying that, for the most part, life is just a little bit (sometimes a lot) easier there.  Despite the difficulties, despite the imperfections, despite our own issues with bureaucracy, there are still more possibilities for more people.  I won’t take that for granted again (and I’ve left a paper trail all throughout the former USSR to make sure that I never forget).   

I'm чумачечая...

That explains a lot.

up is down.

one week/блин/I haven't even left and the nostalgia begins (bear with me y'all)

My days as an expat are coming to a close.  One week from today I will be on a plane heading back to America. [insert dramatic pause here] Yes, AMERICA.  Needless to say, I have very mixed feelings about this fact.  Some days I get lost in thought thinking about how great it will be to see my family, to kiss my pooch, to sit on the porch at the Fair, to go back to Rhodes and move into my new house with some of my dearest friends, to eat purple-hull peas, watermelons, Central BBQ nachos and Jerry’s snow cones supreme (just to name a few).  I get excited looking to the future and all I left behind to come here because that life is good too.  But then I think about what it will be like to not be here and, well, I just can’t bear to do it.    

Last night I was sitting on a park bench with Karolina and her friend Vika.  Karolina asks me,  “So, have you decided when you’re going to Piter?” (My travel plans are perpetually up in the air, I am in the former USSR after all).  I reply, “Yeah, actually this time next week I’ll be there.  Crazy, right?”  “And then you’ll be in America!” she responded excitedly, expecting me to share in this sentiment.  But all I could think was, “Блин.  Я не представляю...Америка.”   That thought freaked me into a silent shock as I realized all at once, all over again what that means.  It means that everything that has become normal will disappear.  The way that I now talk, act, dress, interact, buy things, read, dream, travel, understand, eat, drink, and think is all about to change.  Living in America is great and I am glad to be going back, don’t get me wrong, but life there is very different from life over here.  Going so suddenly back to that world is, basically, absolutely terrifying.    

I've been abroad for a good while, almost seven months now.  A lot of time has passed and a lot has happened, both here and at home.  Shortly after arriving in St. Petersburg, I remember asking my roomie Neha (who spent last semester in Argentina) if she thought that she changed a lot during her semester abroad.  Honestly, I thought she would probably say yes.  She, however, responded by saying no, that she actually discovered she is exactly who she thought she was all along.  She asked me if I thought I was changing, to which I replied, I don’t know.  At the time I was in the middle of experiencing so many new things at once, and I really couldn’t put into words how that was affecting me.  I couldn’t say for sure if I was changing or not.  But as I look back at my semester and I see where I was at the beginning and I see where I am now, I think that Neha had it right.  The way that I live has changed.  The kind of experiences I have on a daily basis has changed.  But I feel more self-aware than ever before.  I feel that a part of me that has always been there has had the chance to live freely and wildly in Russia.  And, oh it feels good.  In the words of the great Emliy Tamkin, if my soul had a voice it would probably speak Russian with a Southern accent.  That’s who I am.  Piter helped me to see that very clearly, and not being in Piter (or in Belarus) will not change a thing. 

So this is my last hurrah, my last chance to take in every moment.  In the next week I will be in four different countries.  Belarus, Ukraine, Russia, and America.  And once I’m in America, well, I’ll be in America.  That’s the final destination (at least for now).  And despite the nostalgia, despite the shock, despite that part of me that’ll still be floating somewhere along the Neva, I think I will really be happy.  

Can I have one?

Near and Far.

It’s been a month since I left St. Petersburg, but it feels like it has been so much longer.  That part of my life already feels somewhat dream like.  Most of my friends from Smolny (who I miss dearly) are back in the US experiencing culture shock after living in Russia or so long, and though I haven’t yet left the former USSR, I have been feeling a little bit of culture shock myself.  In so many ways Belarus is very similar to Russia, but in many ways it is like being in a completely different world.  Everyone speaks Russian but randomly throws in Belarusian words and speaks with a different accent and pronounce words differently (i.e. говорит or город sound like ховорит or хород, and двери не закрываются но зачыняюцца).  While many of their habits are the same, it seems that people here in general smoke less, drink less, and curse less than people in Russia.  Everything is cleaner, people are friendlier, and everything moves at a slower pace (even in the capital city, Minsk). 

Living in a village of 5,000 rather than a city of 5 million has also been a major change.  In St. Petersburg I could blend into the crowd and wander the city alone.  Here I am never alone and as  I walk down the street I attract stares from everyone who immediately recognizes me as not one of their own.  I daily get seranaded with the song, «American Girl».  Almost everyone knows everyone in Oktyabrsky, and there is definitely a small town feel.  People greet one another and stop to visit as they pass on the street, something that never happened in St. Petersburg.  Spending the summer in the country after months of city buildings and cement is wonderfully peaceful (even though my allergies aren't happy at all).  Every morning I wake up to the sun shining, roosters crowing, the breeze blowing in my window.  Almost every evening I go to the dacha to pick berries and other vegetables.  Most everything that I eat is fresh from the garden or made fresh locally: fruits and vegetables from the garden, homeade tvorog, bread baked fresh locally, juice made from the sap of birch trees.  Chickens and cows roam freely along the road, retirees sit out on benches playing cards and sharing in the town gossip, and babushki work tirelessly in their vegetable gardens.  Life is slow and quaint, and though it is a nice break from reality, I feel so disconnected from the rest of the world.  (Internet has been lacking which is why I'm only now posting, sorry for the silence!). 

As lovely and relaxing as my time in Belarus has been, I can't help feeling a deep longing to go back to my beloved St. Petersburg.  I fell in love with that city and I know that I part of me will always be there.  I miss the unpredictability of every moment, the absurdity, the people, the paradoxes, the soul.  I miss wandering the streets lost in the depths of my own thoughts.  I miss sitting along the canals all night long with friends, just passing time talking and being.  I miss the faces of those who I passed everyday but never knew personally: the babushki who begged for money in front of Vladimirsky Sobor, the homeless people who slept in my dvor, the handicapped kid that passed out flyers in front of my metro.  I miss the daily trek down Galernaya, the long hours of RSL classes, shaverma Wednesdays, the 22 trolleybus, the list goes on and on.  On the one hand it is wonderful to look back on my time there and remember every amazing moment.  On the other hand doing so leaves me in a state of mixed emotions: so happy because the semester was nothing less than perfect yet so sad because I am no longer living that life.  But I can't dwell in the past or worry about the future.  I choose to live everyday in the moment.  So as much I love Peter, as much as I will miss my friends in Belarus when I am gone, everyday and every moment is wonderful and unique, and by living each moment to the fullest there can be no regrets or longing for the past.    

Did I mention that I am eating a lot in Belarus?

This is the love-hate relationship that I have with Belarus: the food.  Love because everything is so tasty, so fresh and all homemade.  Hate because as a guest I am forced to eat abnormally large amounts of food...ALL DAY LONG, while my hostesses nibble at the lesser portions on their plates.  I have attempted many strategies to circumvent this fate but there is no winning.  If you try to eat less or slowly they insist that you are shy and put more food on your plate.  If you try to show them that you actually are eating enough, they insist that you really like it and therefore put more food on your plate.  There's just no getting around it.  I love trying new things and enjoying my food, but good gosh, Belarus, you are too much for me.  As great as this food is, I'll be happy to come back to the US and eat normal amounts of food at my own will. :) 

And did I also mention that I like taking pictures of my food?