Dear Россия,
On my last night here (since tomorrow night I’m being picked up at 2 am I’m not counting it) I want to take the time to thank you for everything this year. I know I spend most of my time complaining about the blisters I get from so much walking, depressing about the weather, and laughing at your crazy sense of fashion, but in all seriousness this past school year has been incredible and I want to thank you sincerely for that. These past few days making the rounds for the last time for a while have made me realize just how many memories we have made together. Picnics in the park by school, pushing through the winter wind to volunteer at the Hermitage, sunset over the gulf, smiling inwardly at American tourists who are trying to read Cyrillic, singing and dancing while Jarlath plays guitar, walking down the embankment when we could have taken the bus, and even the first time we discovered where the free bathrooms were in the center. Your beauty, both natural and of human design, continues to take my breath away, somehow even the Khrushchev buildings here at Primorskaya have seemed almost beautiful this past week. You have reminded me of how wonderful it is to get lost in back alleys and then find your way again, how a handwritten sign pasted on a wall inquiring after a lost hamster can make you smile just as quickly as a professional comedy show. The resiliency and generosity of your people continues to amaze me. Events of an entire age fill one lifetime here, so when the grandmothers are elbowing their way through the metro you carefully remind me that they have seen and experienced more than I can begin to comprehend, that everyone has their own story and their own fight. Your young people do quite often have a broader perspective than their elders, some look forward to leaving and heading west but many others are passionate in their love for you, their homeland, and I know they will serve you well as artists, engineers, politicians. Thank you for introducing me to them and their perspectives and dreams. I may not agree with many women here on their self-image and social status, but I am incredibly grateful to them for their willingness to engage in discussions on the subject and make me examine my own assumptions and opinions. I never really thought I would say this, but I am also grateful to your men; for making me stronger, more self-assured, and more certain of the woman I want to become. That woman will hopefully utilize all of the things I have learned here in the classroom, as well as on your streets. My teachers have provided me a glimpse into the life of a Russian intellectual, and for that I am just as grateful as I am for all that they taught me from books, films, and conversation. I hope you will allow me to meet them again someday soon, when I have been able to more fully grasp the immense impact they have had on my life through their language and cultural instruction and their role as a window into Russian life. Thank you for placing Irina Borisovna and all of the CIEE staff in the right place at the right time, I cannot imagine Russia without them. They have shown you in the best possible light, I only hope I can do the same as I try and show you to my friends and family. Thank you, perhaps most of all, for the generosity that runs so deep in your national character that a family could take in a stranger and make them feel as if they were one of their own. I absolutely cannot imagine this experience without Ira, Pasha, Grandma, Lena, and Nadia. There are simply no words to express how grateful I am, so I won’t attempt it because you already understand, nor are there any to express how much I am going to miss them. I cannot say I am going to miss everything about you, dear country of mullets and inefficiency, but I know I will be leaving a piece of my heart here, otherwise the tears wouldn’t be in my eyes. In just over 24 hours when I am on my way, and when I am gone, think of me, dear Russia. I’ll be seeing you.
Much love from a grateful heart – Бет Анне
Friday, May 21, 2010
Monday, May 17, 2010
Holy Week in Stockholm!
Though I arrived in the center of Stockholm in a cloud of San Francisco style fog, it was clear to me that this was a different type of city from Copenhagen. Larger, and more complex feeling because it is made up of islands and water is everywhere even more so than was the case in Copenhagen, Stockholm felt like the regal capital of Scandinavia that it claimed to be. I was starving, so grabbed some pizza in the train station and did some active people watching, and then set out to find my hostel. It was a pretty short walk to one of the coolest hostels I have stayed in. City Backpackers is located behind its own café, and is full of common rooms, very clean bathrooms, and little bedrooms named after various towns and regions in Sweden. The kitchen was huge – and seemingly always full of guys making pasta – the TV room was full of couches and chatty people and books to borrow, the WiFi was fast even in the rooms, and the beds were cozy. I met a couple of nice, but not particularly sociable, Finnish girls in my room where I dropped off my things and headed out exploring.
Down past the train station and across the water to Gamla Stan by way of the Swedish Parliament building, a beautiful building that manages to seem classical and modern all at the same time, and is situated right next to the royal palace. The spires of the old churches rose into nothingness thanks to the fog, making for some interesting vistas. The narrow alleys and cobblestone streets led me to things like the Royal Opera, National Museum, and plenty of monuments and churches along the way. I got a little lost, which was perfect since it let me explore and wander since I had no real agenda for the day and everything was pretty much closed since it was already 5 or 6 in the evening, and wandered my way around for a few hours until I found myself back in the center of the new city, and ducked into a mall for a cup of coffee and was astonished by all the Easter decorations – including a giant chocolate bunny and a chocolate fountain! On the way back to the hostel it started to rain, so I holed up with a book on my ipod and half paid attention to the movie playing in the TV room.
The next day was Holy Thursday, and I needed my umbrella on the hour walk to the Vasa Museum, which contains a ship raised from the bottom of the harbor that has been incredibly well preserved. On the way I circled the harbor, again resolved to return in the summer when all of the sight-seeing boats currently closed up and moored would be actively showing tourists around this beautiful city. The Vasa Museum itself is incredibly impressive even before you make it inside. Sticking out of the roof are replicas of the ship’s masts, reaching to their original heights. Inside the museum – you have to walk through about three sets of special doors due to the special climate control systems – the rest of the ship has been preserved almost in its entirety. It is impossible to capture it all on camera, and a rather indescribable feeling to know you are looking at something that was last seen some 400 years ago. The funny thing is that the ship was a failure, it sank on its first voyage because it hadn’t been balanced correctly, it just keeled right over. Since it was brand new, it was in pristine condition when it sank, and was preserved by the mud on the sea floor and the lack of wood eating worms in the less salty waters of the Baltic Sea. The process of removing it was quite the ordeal, cables were passed through tunnels dug by divers under the hull, and the ship was pulled in its entirety to a dry dock to be restored with chemicals to replace the water in the wood. It is an incredible achievement that they were able to restore the ship so beautifully, and the accompanying exhibitions about life onboard and in Scandinavia at the time were also very interesting and well done. I spent many hours in the museum, and by the time I emerged the sun was shining in a blue sky full of fluffy white clouds.
I walked back towards the center in a roundabout way through parts of the city I hadn’t seen, more residential feeling with an incredible amount of green space. Found a beautiful golden church where they were rehearsing for an Easter concert, the National Library, and museums of Music and the Military, as well as multiple parks and monuments, before my legs started yelling that I’d been walking for hours and my stomach reminded me that I had missed lunch and it was already early evening. I stopped in a book market just before it closed and bought the second book in the Millennium trilogy, detective novels actually by a Swedish author that take place in Stockholm, a friend had lent me the first one back in St. Petersburg, and then walked over to treat myself – or had madre and padre treat me – to a Caesar salad in honor of Holy Thursday at the TGI Fridays in the park by the Opera. I spent a wonderful hour or two reading and savoring every bite of romaine lettuce, and made friends with the Swedish family next to me when their toddler’s balloon went astray. Everyone I met spoke wonderful English and didn’t give you the slightest bit of attitude about not speaking Swedish, and were all very friendly and helpful. The waitresses were incredibly attentive, the ice water was wonderful and I’m sure from the tap, and no security guards had to throw out a bunch of old drunk men just because it was happy hour. Simply put, the perfect break from Russia. And did I mention they had romaine lettuce?
That night after I got back to the hostel I hung out with the German woman who had showed up in my room, actually I had moved rooms because that’s just how the booking had worked out, so we had a good time talking in a mixture of German and English about traveling and things, she just had the week off from work before the Easter holiday and had wanted to go somewhere new so had gotten a cheap flight from Munich. The next day was Good Friday, so I read until about midnight and went to bed early. I got up early to head to City Hall, which a friend recommended I climb to get the best views of the city. I was grateful for my time in Russia this winter as the brisk wind blowing in off the water – which still had ice in more than a few places – was chilling the bones of the Spanish tourists standing in line with me. The climb to the top was long and windy, through many twists and turns in brick corridors, but the view from the top was beautiful. It was fun to be able to place all the places I had been and note places I still wanted to go in the city. The park island of Skansen, where the Vasa Museum is located, is like a sea of green in the middle of the city, and the many church spires and hilly topography reminded me of Salzburg. After making my way down I walked across to the old city, watched the changing of the guard at the royal palace and then stumbled upon a Good Friday procession making its way through the streets of the old town. Though I had planned on making Good Friday a day of visiting all the beautiful old churches in the city, almost all of them were closed for work, or just closed, until June. Really need to come back to Scandinavia. It made for an interesting adventure of a day, however, and eventually led to my stumbling into the beginning of a Good Friday evening service in the Catholic Cathedral where I was planning on going to Easter Mass. Later I went on a night-time exploration of the city in a contemplative mood, and loved being able to hear the sounds of the water all around now that the sounds of the day had been quieted. It was a crisp, clear night, and I walked around for a while enjoying the fresh air and peacefulness that had descended on the city.
The next day I headed to Skansen to meet Deborah, the younger sister of my thesis advisor back in Athens, Dr. Weitsman. I was actually kind of nervous, Dr. Weitsman has told me I remind her of her sister a few times and I respect her so much I wasn’t sure what to make of spending the day with her sister and her family. But she got off the bus in a red Indiana University pullover looking quite a bit like her sister but maybe a little smaller, hugged me and introduced me to her husband, Akihiro, and her 5 ½ year old daughter, Hannah. Skansen is an outdoor park full of old-style buildings exhibiting Swedish village life and a zoo of Scandinavian animals, so the plan was to walk around and enjoy the weather, which we certainly did. Though happily interrupted often by Hannah, I had an amazing time getting to know Deborah and Akihiro, who had met in Japan while Debbie was teaching English there and married in the US while getting their graduate degrees. Akihiro holds degrees in Political Science and Anthropology, and has worked as a professor around the world including at the moment in Sweden and Germany two days a week. It was interesting talking about the different university systems around the world in relationship to different cultures. Debbie was very interested in what I had been up to, to be able to study abroad so often and we talked a lot about living abroad and how she ended up in the lifestyle she has found. She was more than willing to share her experiences, and walking around Skansen it felt like we had known each other for longer than just a few hours. In between all of these conversations I was seeing how far I could long jump and climbing on ‘spider webs’ with Hannah, who is a very outgoing five year old to say the least. She taught me a few words in Swedish, which was very entertaining, and reminded me how much fun spending time with children can be, something I don’t get to do much of here in Russia. She has already had some pretty great life experiences, and it was fun seeing them through her eyes as well as her parents.
Skansen itself was quite entertaining as well, from blue herons to seals and wild boars to buffalo lolling about and bears sleeping in trees, there was always something to see. The blue sky was incredible, and the day passed by quickly, running into a few of Hannah’s friends from school along the way and stopping for a pony ride at one point as well – unfortunately, I was too old ☺, but Hannah enjoyed it! At some point early on Hannah asked whether I was coming over after, to which we all responded that no, I had to get back to my hostel, for which we received a pout and a few minutes of protesting before she relented. A little while later, however, Debbie invited me over for dinner – with Akihiro’s laughing caveat that it was Passover, so it wouldn’t be gourmet. I had enjoyed the day immensely, spending time with such a welcoming family after almost a week on the road was an incredible blessing, and I couldn’t have said no to the little hand pulling on my arm begging me to say yes, even if I had wanted to. So I accepted the invitation, and was immediately hugged by Hannah who then requested a piggy back ride to the bus stop. So I carried Hannah to the bus, while Debbie carried my purse, and we piled into the bus where Hannah happily swiped my transit card and told me stories all the way home. We stopped at the store for some ice cream for an after-dinner treat, and Debbie made sure that one of them didn’t have chocolate in it since it was still Lent for me. That small gesture made me feel so welcomed even after spending the day with them that I almost hugged her right there, but was pulled off to look at the very interesting cereal selection by an eager Hannah. We also stopped in a department store for some socks, and Hannah gave her mom permission to go with dad, she was certain I could look after both of us. So we tried on nearly every headband in the store before we were ushered away to walk the final bit home, where I was immediately shown a Disney princess play tent and a book to read before dinner. Sometime during the tour I heard Debbie on the phone saying, “I have someone you know in my house”, which made me laugh and realize she was talking to Dr. Weitsman back in the US. About halfway through the book I was reading to Hannah we called her on skype, which was quite fun. I am incredibly grateful to her for being willing to introduce me to her sister and share her family with me, the day I spent with them was by far the best day of the trip and came at the perfect time when I was coming to realize just how much I missed my family over the Easter holiday. After a wonderful dinner, tea, ice cream, and losing about 10 games of Uno, I headed back to the hostel with a goodie bag for lunch the next day of the delicious lasagna we’d had for dinner and some fresh fruit. I was incredibly touched by their kindness all day, and as you can probably tell by the amount of space in this blog detailing Saturday’s events, I am still incredibly grateful and touched every time I think about it. I sincerely hope that one day I can repay them for their incredible kindness to me. I arrived back at the hostel very happy and exhausted, packed a little and collapsed into bed.
Easter Sunday dawned clear and warm, and I put my bags in a day locker since I was flying out in the late afternoon and walked over to the train station to meet a friend who had worked at the Cleveland Council on World Affairs when I had interned there over winter break. I hadn’t realized she was back in Sweden, but luckily Josie contacted me on facebook and we met for Easter breakfast before parting ways to go to church. It was great to catch up with her, she’s an incredible sweetheart with lots of fun experiences and just very easy to chat with, we had a great time catching up and laughing about AJ Roccos and the quirks of CCWA. It was a real blessing to start off Easter with her, and as she headed to go set up for her church’s Easter celebration I took my place in the Catholic church for Easter Mass in Swedish! The church is a large one, and was more than completely full with what seemed to be a very diverse congregation. Thankfully the only part that was really lost on me was the homily, since I could follow along with the readings in the Bible I brought and know the parts of the Mass pretty much by heart. It was fun to celebrate the holiday among a truly global family of believers! After Mass I did some last minute souvenir shopping since I had planned on doing it Saturday but ended up staying with Debbie’s family all day, and headed to the airport on a bus. Made it home to St. Petersburg without a hitch, and host mom had tea and chocolate and cake waiting for me in my freshly cleaned room, and I caught a few hours of sleep before starting class the next morning. And so, travel week came to an end and the rest of the semester began.
Down past the train station and across the water to Gamla Stan by way of the Swedish Parliament building, a beautiful building that manages to seem classical and modern all at the same time, and is situated right next to the royal palace. The spires of the old churches rose into nothingness thanks to the fog, making for some interesting vistas. The narrow alleys and cobblestone streets led me to things like the Royal Opera, National Museum, and plenty of monuments and churches along the way. I got a little lost, which was perfect since it let me explore and wander since I had no real agenda for the day and everything was pretty much closed since it was already 5 or 6 in the evening, and wandered my way around for a few hours until I found myself back in the center of the new city, and ducked into a mall for a cup of coffee and was astonished by all the Easter decorations – including a giant chocolate bunny and a chocolate fountain! On the way back to the hostel it started to rain, so I holed up with a book on my ipod and half paid attention to the movie playing in the TV room.
The next day was Holy Thursday, and I needed my umbrella on the hour walk to the Vasa Museum, which contains a ship raised from the bottom of the harbor that has been incredibly well preserved. On the way I circled the harbor, again resolved to return in the summer when all of the sight-seeing boats currently closed up and moored would be actively showing tourists around this beautiful city. The Vasa Museum itself is incredibly impressive even before you make it inside. Sticking out of the roof are replicas of the ship’s masts, reaching to their original heights. Inside the museum – you have to walk through about three sets of special doors due to the special climate control systems – the rest of the ship has been preserved almost in its entirety. It is impossible to capture it all on camera, and a rather indescribable feeling to know you are looking at something that was last seen some 400 years ago. The funny thing is that the ship was a failure, it sank on its first voyage because it hadn’t been balanced correctly, it just keeled right over. Since it was brand new, it was in pristine condition when it sank, and was preserved by the mud on the sea floor and the lack of wood eating worms in the less salty waters of the Baltic Sea. The process of removing it was quite the ordeal, cables were passed through tunnels dug by divers under the hull, and the ship was pulled in its entirety to a dry dock to be restored with chemicals to replace the water in the wood. It is an incredible achievement that they were able to restore the ship so beautifully, and the accompanying exhibitions about life onboard and in Scandinavia at the time were also very interesting and well done. I spent many hours in the museum, and by the time I emerged the sun was shining in a blue sky full of fluffy white clouds.
I walked back towards the center in a roundabout way through parts of the city I hadn’t seen, more residential feeling with an incredible amount of green space. Found a beautiful golden church where they were rehearsing for an Easter concert, the National Library, and museums of Music and the Military, as well as multiple parks and monuments, before my legs started yelling that I’d been walking for hours and my stomach reminded me that I had missed lunch and it was already early evening. I stopped in a book market just before it closed and bought the second book in the Millennium trilogy, detective novels actually by a Swedish author that take place in Stockholm, a friend had lent me the first one back in St. Petersburg, and then walked over to treat myself – or had madre and padre treat me – to a Caesar salad in honor of Holy Thursday at the TGI Fridays in the park by the Opera. I spent a wonderful hour or two reading and savoring every bite of romaine lettuce, and made friends with the Swedish family next to me when their toddler’s balloon went astray. Everyone I met spoke wonderful English and didn’t give you the slightest bit of attitude about not speaking Swedish, and were all very friendly and helpful. The waitresses were incredibly attentive, the ice water was wonderful and I’m sure from the tap, and no security guards had to throw out a bunch of old drunk men just because it was happy hour. Simply put, the perfect break from Russia. And did I mention they had romaine lettuce?
That night after I got back to the hostel I hung out with the German woman who had showed up in my room, actually I had moved rooms because that’s just how the booking had worked out, so we had a good time talking in a mixture of German and English about traveling and things, she just had the week off from work before the Easter holiday and had wanted to go somewhere new so had gotten a cheap flight from Munich. The next day was Good Friday, so I read until about midnight and went to bed early. I got up early to head to City Hall, which a friend recommended I climb to get the best views of the city. I was grateful for my time in Russia this winter as the brisk wind blowing in off the water – which still had ice in more than a few places – was chilling the bones of the Spanish tourists standing in line with me. The climb to the top was long and windy, through many twists and turns in brick corridors, but the view from the top was beautiful. It was fun to be able to place all the places I had been and note places I still wanted to go in the city. The park island of Skansen, where the Vasa Museum is located, is like a sea of green in the middle of the city, and the many church spires and hilly topography reminded me of Salzburg. After making my way down I walked across to the old city, watched the changing of the guard at the royal palace and then stumbled upon a Good Friday procession making its way through the streets of the old town. Though I had planned on making Good Friday a day of visiting all the beautiful old churches in the city, almost all of them were closed for work, or just closed, until June. Really need to come back to Scandinavia. It made for an interesting adventure of a day, however, and eventually led to my stumbling into the beginning of a Good Friday evening service in the Catholic Cathedral where I was planning on going to Easter Mass. Later I went on a night-time exploration of the city in a contemplative mood, and loved being able to hear the sounds of the water all around now that the sounds of the day had been quieted. It was a crisp, clear night, and I walked around for a while enjoying the fresh air and peacefulness that had descended on the city.
The next day I headed to Skansen to meet Deborah, the younger sister of my thesis advisor back in Athens, Dr. Weitsman. I was actually kind of nervous, Dr. Weitsman has told me I remind her of her sister a few times and I respect her so much I wasn’t sure what to make of spending the day with her sister and her family. But she got off the bus in a red Indiana University pullover looking quite a bit like her sister but maybe a little smaller, hugged me and introduced me to her husband, Akihiro, and her 5 ½ year old daughter, Hannah. Skansen is an outdoor park full of old-style buildings exhibiting Swedish village life and a zoo of Scandinavian animals, so the plan was to walk around and enjoy the weather, which we certainly did. Though happily interrupted often by Hannah, I had an amazing time getting to know Deborah and Akihiro, who had met in Japan while Debbie was teaching English there and married in the US while getting their graduate degrees. Akihiro holds degrees in Political Science and Anthropology, and has worked as a professor around the world including at the moment in Sweden and Germany two days a week. It was interesting talking about the different university systems around the world in relationship to different cultures. Debbie was very interested in what I had been up to, to be able to study abroad so often and we talked a lot about living abroad and how she ended up in the lifestyle she has found. She was more than willing to share her experiences, and walking around Skansen it felt like we had known each other for longer than just a few hours. In between all of these conversations I was seeing how far I could long jump and climbing on ‘spider webs’ with Hannah, who is a very outgoing five year old to say the least. She taught me a few words in Swedish, which was very entertaining, and reminded me how much fun spending time with children can be, something I don’t get to do much of here in Russia. She has already had some pretty great life experiences, and it was fun seeing them through her eyes as well as her parents.
Skansen itself was quite entertaining as well, from blue herons to seals and wild boars to buffalo lolling about and bears sleeping in trees, there was always something to see. The blue sky was incredible, and the day passed by quickly, running into a few of Hannah’s friends from school along the way and stopping for a pony ride at one point as well – unfortunately, I was too old ☺, but Hannah enjoyed it! At some point early on Hannah asked whether I was coming over after, to which we all responded that no, I had to get back to my hostel, for which we received a pout and a few minutes of protesting before she relented. A little while later, however, Debbie invited me over for dinner – with Akihiro’s laughing caveat that it was Passover, so it wouldn’t be gourmet. I had enjoyed the day immensely, spending time with such a welcoming family after almost a week on the road was an incredible blessing, and I couldn’t have said no to the little hand pulling on my arm begging me to say yes, even if I had wanted to. So I accepted the invitation, and was immediately hugged by Hannah who then requested a piggy back ride to the bus stop. So I carried Hannah to the bus, while Debbie carried my purse, and we piled into the bus where Hannah happily swiped my transit card and told me stories all the way home. We stopped at the store for some ice cream for an after-dinner treat, and Debbie made sure that one of them didn’t have chocolate in it since it was still Lent for me. That small gesture made me feel so welcomed even after spending the day with them that I almost hugged her right there, but was pulled off to look at the very interesting cereal selection by an eager Hannah. We also stopped in a department store for some socks, and Hannah gave her mom permission to go with dad, she was certain I could look after both of us. So we tried on nearly every headband in the store before we were ushered away to walk the final bit home, where I was immediately shown a Disney princess play tent and a book to read before dinner. Sometime during the tour I heard Debbie on the phone saying, “I have someone you know in my house”, which made me laugh and realize she was talking to Dr. Weitsman back in the US. About halfway through the book I was reading to Hannah we called her on skype, which was quite fun. I am incredibly grateful to her for being willing to introduce me to her sister and share her family with me, the day I spent with them was by far the best day of the trip and came at the perfect time when I was coming to realize just how much I missed my family over the Easter holiday. After a wonderful dinner, tea, ice cream, and losing about 10 games of Uno, I headed back to the hostel with a goodie bag for lunch the next day of the delicious lasagna we’d had for dinner and some fresh fruit. I was incredibly touched by their kindness all day, and as you can probably tell by the amount of space in this blog detailing Saturday’s events, I am still incredibly grateful and touched every time I think about it. I sincerely hope that one day I can repay them for their incredible kindness to me. I arrived back at the hostel very happy and exhausted, packed a little and collapsed into bed.
Easter Sunday dawned clear and warm, and I put my bags in a day locker since I was flying out in the late afternoon and walked over to the train station to meet a friend who had worked at the Cleveland Council on World Affairs when I had interned there over winter break. I hadn’t realized she was back in Sweden, but luckily Josie contacted me on facebook and we met for Easter breakfast before parting ways to go to church. It was great to catch up with her, she’s an incredible sweetheart with lots of fun experiences and just very easy to chat with, we had a great time catching up and laughing about AJ Roccos and the quirks of CCWA. It was a real blessing to start off Easter with her, and as she headed to go set up for her church’s Easter celebration I took my place in the Catholic church for Easter Mass in Swedish! The church is a large one, and was more than completely full with what seemed to be a very diverse congregation. Thankfully the only part that was really lost on me was the homily, since I could follow along with the readings in the Bible I brought and know the parts of the Mass pretty much by heart. It was fun to celebrate the holiday among a truly global family of believers! After Mass I did some last minute souvenir shopping since I had planned on doing it Saturday but ended up staying with Debbie’s family all day, and headed to the airport on a bus. Made it home to St. Petersburg without a hitch, and host mom had tea and chocolate and cake waiting for me in my freshly cleaned room, and I caught a few hours of sleep before starting class the next morning. And so, travel week came to an end and the rest of the semester began.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
The Day of the Great Victory: День Победы!
The 9th of May in Russia is a nearly sacred day, the day of victory in what they name 'The Great Patriotic War', and what we know as the Second World War. Russians view the victory largely as theirs alone, and in many respects it was. A majority of the fighting took place on Soviet Union territory, the battle of Stalingrad and the siege of Leningrad were two of the most important pieces in the horrible puzzle, and Russia lost some 23 million people, according to the more conservative estimates. Even for a country the size of Russia, 23 million people is an incredible number. The banners and flags have been in place for a few weeks, the modern Russian flag hung alongside the red flag of the Soviet Union in most cases, and many buildings are draped with huge posters declaring 65 years of great victory, 1945-2010. War films and documentaries have dominated the television channels for some time, and almost every night on the news some new information or fact is given about the war and its heroes. There are more veterans still alive than I would have thought – given the life expectancy in Russia in general – but it is a pretty fluid number since everyone who survived the blockade in Leningrad is also considered a war veteran, and there are other nuances as well. And the critics always bring up that there would be more but Stalin had all those who had been in enemy prison camps repressed and sent to Siberia, and many say that all the money spent on the parade every year should go instead to making sure that veterans have good apartments and care, since their pensions are good but that’s about it, but on the 9th of May everyone rallies around those veterans cruising down Nevsky Prospect on their own two feet or in jeeps, regardless of all the discussion in the background. Young people buy carnations to present to veterans, veterans wives, and blockade survivors, who are all proudly adorned in their best outfits and absolutely covered in medals and ribbons. Walking up and kissing an old man on the cheek in Russia I'm pretty sure happens on only one day, the 9th of May.
The day begins early – I was in church so missed most of this part but caught it all later when they replayed it on TV – with a military parade simultaneously in Moscow and St. Petersburg. Our claim to fame is that the Navy brass is here, as well as the Naval Academy cadets, while the Moscow parade is much more impressive in terms of numbers and military technology, and of course the presence of the President and Prime Minister. Though those poor guys leading the parade in Moscow have to march on the much larger Red Square – and they do the stiff-legged high kick march, Matthew does this have a name? so it must be exhausting by the time they make it all the way across – rather than our Palace Square. It was depressing to see the difference on television, Moscow was sunny and everyone looked almost hot, while we were shrouded in fog and pulling out our gloves in the morning. The day turned out to be by turns beautiful and stormy, thankfully I have lots of experience at umbrella battling after spending 7 hours standing in the rain in Berlin in November. The military parade was at 10 am, and from then until 5 pm when the citizens parade, the one in which the veterans march, we had lunch at a delicious pizza place on Nevsky while listening to the Soviet anthem over the loudspeakers in the restaurant, did a significant amount of people watching and finding free paraphanalia, got the email address of a militia member after we took a picture of a big group of them standing doing absolutely nothing, ate some St. Petersburg fried donuts, said hello to a few veterans with big smiles, and staked out a spot about 4 to wait for the parade to make its way down from Ploshad Vosstania where the train station to Moscow is. This was honestly – as one of the guys from church noted in the morning – the first day when it was clear that 5 million people do live in this city, and they were all out on the street. The funny thing was that many of the people on the street had come in for the weekend, blockade survivors especially, and plenty of Russian and international tourists to witness the festivities in the big city. It led to a rather crazy atmosphere, but we lucked into seats everywhere we went and until the metro at the end of the day it never really felt out of control.
The highlight of the day is the citizens parade, veterans and their families are driven in jeeps or march down the parade route behind the flags of their regiments and fronts, and blockade survivors march with the unions that have been created to unite and remember them. One woman told of how her mother had returned from the dacha to find her husband sent to the western front, in the summer before the beginning of the siege of the city. She only received one letter from him and then the news that he had been killed, and her story is sadly not unique. The celebration of the veterans, and the cries of спасибо, which means thank you, that can be heard more often than anything else, are also really celebrations of all of those who were lost, and on the 9th of May Russia remembers them all. Life here may still be difficult in many respects, but the victory that they celebrate on this day every year rises above all of that, to a level beyond even national pride. It was a wonderful feeling on the streets all day, and during the parade when the rain started pouring down no one was phased, compared to what the veterans have seen rain must be absolutely meaningless, and the city celebrated on. The parade ended in palace square, where a concert started up that saw the veterans dancing up a storm with many young uniformed men and women and their families. At this point, we all headed home to be able to watch it on TV since it was all blocked off, and successfully made it through the metro chaos and all the way home in time to see most of it. Pasha and I watched with huge smiles as the veterans danced to classic victory day songs and more modern ones as well, some with their spouses and others with dashing young service members trying to keep up with the veterans. They all knew all the words to the songs, and the sense of solidarity was tangible even from our apartment.
At 10 pm a military salute takes place in St. Petersburg from the Peter and Paul Fortress, just before the fireworks begin in Moscow. It was really interesting to go from watching the Neva where it was still pretty light outside to Moscow where at 10 pm it was absolutely dark and perfect for fireworks. The fireworks display was magnificent, set to a live orchestra performance of mostly Tschaikovsky, and went on for maybe 15 minutes. It was quite the spectacle, and red square was full of people looking up to the sky. Pasha and I were curled on my bed with tea and ice cream, and when the fireworks ended a concert started in Moscow with some of the most famous names in Russian music singing classic songs of victory and a ten-year-old boy who won a competition singing a new song about the important holiday. There were subtitles with the lyrics which was fun because Pasha knew most of the songs and he made me sing too since I could read the Russian on the screen. So it turned into quite the sing-a-long evening and occasionally we could hear mom laughing at us from the other room when one of us would sing incorrectly or the audio would cut out and suddenly we could hear ourselves and would start laughing. The songs were patriotic and emotional, and absolutely everyone knew all the words in the audience, I'm going to pay more attention to our 4th of July concerts and see if they are comparable. And we're going to have to skype because they want to see what our fireworks are like and apparently they're not shown on TV here. So that should be entertaining! Victory day ended at about midnight, but you could go on forever about the implications and special meanings found in the celebration. I am very grateful that I had the chance to experience this sacred holiday, and will be very sad the day there are no dancing veterans around to bless the bricks of Palace Square with their dancing feet. Thankfully, the importance of their sacrifice is definitely imprinted in the blood of this country and her people, so Victory Day will live on as will their legacy.
The day begins early – I was in church so missed most of this part but caught it all later when they replayed it on TV – with a military parade simultaneously in Moscow and St. Petersburg. Our claim to fame is that the Navy brass is here, as well as the Naval Academy cadets, while the Moscow parade is much more impressive in terms of numbers and military technology, and of course the presence of the President and Prime Minister. Though those poor guys leading the parade in Moscow have to march on the much larger Red Square – and they do the stiff-legged high kick march, Matthew does this have a name? so it must be exhausting by the time they make it all the way across – rather than our Palace Square. It was depressing to see the difference on television, Moscow was sunny and everyone looked almost hot, while we were shrouded in fog and pulling out our gloves in the morning. The day turned out to be by turns beautiful and stormy, thankfully I have lots of experience at umbrella battling after spending 7 hours standing in the rain in Berlin in November. The military parade was at 10 am, and from then until 5 pm when the citizens parade, the one in which the veterans march, we had lunch at a delicious pizza place on Nevsky while listening to the Soviet anthem over the loudspeakers in the restaurant, did a significant amount of people watching and finding free paraphanalia, got the email address of a militia member after we took a picture of a big group of them standing doing absolutely nothing, ate some St. Petersburg fried donuts, said hello to a few veterans with big smiles, and staked out a spot about 4 to wait for the parade to make its way down from Ploshad Vosstania where the train station to Moscow is. This was honestly – as one of the guys from church noted in the morning – the first day when it was clear that 5 million people do live in this city, and they were all out on the street. The funny thing was that many of the people on the street had come in for the weekend, blockade survivors especially, and plenty of Russian and international tourists to witness the festivities in the big city. It led to a rather crazy atmosphere, but we lucked into seats everywhere we went and until the metro at the end of the day it never really felt out of control.
The highlight of the day is the citizens parade, veterans and their families are driven in jeeps or march down the parade route behind the flags of their regiments and fronts, and blockade survivors march with the unions that have been created to unite and remember them. One woman told of how her mother had returned from the dacha to find her husband sent to the western front, in the summer before the beginning of the siege of the city. She only received one letter from him and then the news that he had been killed, and her story is sadly not unique. The celebration of the veterans, and the cries of спасибо, which means thank you, that can be heard more often than anything else, are also really celebrations of all of those who were lost, and on the 9th of May Russia remembers them all. Life here may still be difficult in many respects, but the victory that they celebrate on this day every year rises above all of that, to a level beyond even national pride. It was a wonderful feeling on the streets all day, and during the parade when the rain started pouring down no one was phased, compared to what the veterans have seen rain must be absolutely meaningless, and the city celebrated on. The parade ended in palace square, where a concert started up that saw the veterans dancing up a storm with many young uniformed men and women and their families. At this point, we all headed home to be able to watch it on TV since it was all blocked off, and successfully made it through the metro chaos and all the way home in time to see most of it. Pasha and I watched with huge smiles as the veterans danced to classic victory day songs and more modern ones as well, some with their spouses and others with dashing young service members trying to keep up with the veterans. They all knew all the words to the songs, and the sense of solidarity was tangible even from our apartment.
At 10 pm a military salute takes place in St. Petersburg from the Peter and Paul Fortress, just before the fireworks begin in Moscow. It was really interesting to go from watching the Neva where it was still pretty light outside to Moscow where at 10 pm it was absolutely dark and perfect for fireworks. The fireworks display was magnificent, set to a live orchestra performance of mostly Tschaikovsky, and went on for maybe 15 minutes. It was quite the spectacle, and red square was full of people looking up to the sky. Pasha and I were curled on my bed with tea and ice cream, and when the fireworks ended a concert started in Moscow with some of the most famous names in Russian music singing classic songs of victory and a ten-year-old boy who won a competition singing a new song about the important holiday. There were subtitles with the lyrics which was fun because Pasha knew most of the songs and he made me sing too since I could read the Russian on the screen. So it turned into quite the sing-a-long evening and occasionally we could hear mom laughing at us from the other room when one of us would sing incorrectly or the audio would cut out and suddenly we could hear ourselves and would start laughing. The songs were patriotic and emotional, and absolutely everyone knew all the words in the audience, I'm going to pay more attention to our 4th of July concerts and see if they are comparable. And we're going to have to skype because they want to see what our fireworks are like and apparently they're not shown on TV here. So that should be entertaining! Victory day ended at about midnight, but you could go on forever about the implications and special meanings found in the celebration. I am very grateful that I had the chance to experience this sacred holiday, and will be very sad the day there are no dancing veterans around to bless the bricks of Palace Square with their dancing feet. Thankfully, the importance of their sacrifice is definitely imprinted in the blood of this country and her people, so Victory Day will live on as will their legacy.
Copenhagen II
On my first morning in Copenhagen, I set off with a fully charged camera for a walk around the city. The train station is located not far from city hall square, and I walked from there towards the waterfront to get in some quality time playing with my new camera. The old city feels very classical in style, narrow streets with cobblestones and colorful townhouse style old buildings rising not-too-high. Apparently the city was largely spared the massive destruction suffered by other large European cities during the Second World War, so many of the buildings are original, and many others have been rebuilt to match the originals. As you walk towards the inner harbor, however, Copenhagen’s reputation for being the northern capital of architecture and design begins to manifest itself in geometric glass buildings and secretive new construction projects shrouded in white plastic. It was a very interesting progression from old to new. Between the train station and the waterfront are also a few small green spaces, and the inner harbor is lined on one side, and sometimes both, with park space, walking paths, and cafes. The water is supposedly very clean and in summer plenty of people take advantage of the swimming areas that have been officially set up, one of which has stairs to climb up and jump into the water from. After spending my travel week in Scandinavia I do definitely want to come back in the summer, maybe then I’ll take a leap into the inner harbor. Unfortunately it was a little too chilly for that, but plenty of people were out walking their children in strollers on the nicely laid out stroller-wide smooth stones.
From the waterfront and its modern buildings – one of which was a Marriott, note to self – I walked a little farther to the area of the city known as Christianshavn. Criss-crossed by a series of canals, this is absolutely where I would want to live in Copenhagen. And I would want a boat. Some of the houses lining the water are old-style townhouses with beautiful windows and antique chimneys, while others are modern apartment buildings with glass balconies and contemporary architecture. Regardless, they all enjoy beautiful views of the tree-lined canals and quick access to their boats – which I hope they all have. It felt like stepping into a different world, different from the canals of St. Petersburg and Italy, quiet but still very much alive. I headed back towards the center a different way, after stopping to look at a beautiful church with a spiral spire and noting once again that I needed to come back in the summer when the stairs to the top would be open. I walked past the old royal exchange, the parliament building, plenty of monuments, and the small square that used to be the center square of the city, a small street just off the water and on a canal that is absolutely beautiful and lined with cafes. The cafes were prepared for the weather, since it wasn’t raining plenty of people were sitting outside near space heaters and wrapped up in fleece blankets that had been draped over their chairs, St. Petersburg could learn a few lessons here. If only the Danish kroner hadn’t been so ridiculous, I might have stopped for a coffee, instead I headed up one of the world’s longest shopping streets in the heart of the old city. Paved with cobblestones and open to pedestrians only, it reminded me very much of the Getreidegasse in Salzburg, which always makes me smile. Past the square where the gallows used to stand, and on to more shops where I found some souvenirs and, yes, guilty, bought a gorgeous leather purse for my own souvenir. On the way back to the hostel, by this point it was early evening and the weather was clearing a little so I wanted to take advantage of the relative warmth and clean air and go for a run, I walked past some IKEA electric cars all plugged in and ready for rent, a typical Danish family complete with bike, stroller, and dog, and a couple more parks showing serious signs that spring was knocking at the door. I got pizza with some of the guys who had arrived in my room during the day, one from Costa Rica and two from Switzerland, though the French speaking part. Fun guys, a little older than me and with very interesting stories to tell. I like that just because you have a steady job in Europe doesn’t mean that you don’t continue to travel often when you have a few days, just another part of the lifestyle I appreciate.
The next morning dawned sunny and warmer, with perfect timing since I had planned on making my way to the old fortress in the north of the city via the botanical gardens and the King’s park. The botanical gardens was my favorite, with a beautiful and huge gazebo that I’m sure was in full swing at the end of March, and flowers beginning to poke through the soil. I caught a glimpse of some of the buildings of the University, and made an impromptu stop in the national gallery. The royals have quite the collection, and there were also several special exhibitions of modern art that were quite refreshing if strange, the Hermitage in St. Petersburg is beautiful but usually a little lacking in shockingly modern art. So giant spheres filled with plant life and suspended from strings to create the shape of atoms in the atrium of the national gallery of Denmark were a breath of fresh air. The old fortress is very well preserved, with the layers of earthen ramparts and water, then walls – though not particularly impressive ones – surrounding the collection of buildings in the center. It is like a little enclosed city, with only two points of entry. Walking around the top of the ramparts with the sun on your face and the wind coming in from the sea was an amazing feeling, I think I would visit that place every week if I lived in Copenhagen. It was apparent that many did, plenty of people were jogging or walking their dogs. Just around the corner from the fortress is where the Little Mermaid statue sits, looking out to sea. Unfortunately, a few days before I arrived in Copenhagen this memorial to Hans Christian Anderson’s story had shipped off for the World’s Fair in China. Luckily I hadn’t had my heart set on taking my own picture of the statue, but I was disappointed not to be able to tag Brittany in the photo ☺ Just means I’ll have to go back, what a disappointment ☺. A gorgeous Anglican church sits next to the fortress, all grey stone and looking as though it was dropped in from London, and there is a solemn memorial to all those who fought in the Second World War. There was a wreath of poppies placed at the bottom of it, which brought back memories, and as I headed in towards the Danish Royal Palace I wondered whether it could possibly have been a year and a half since I was standing in front of the Foreign Office in London for the Remembrance Day Parade. Someone is pushing the hand of time forward much too fast.
On the way to the Palace I saw the Catholic church with its façade right on the street, a Russian Orthodox church complete with golden onion domes, and the Marble church. A relatively small church with a massive dome, it is a beautiful piece of architecture and also a peaceful spot in the middle of the city. Walking back into the sunlight and across the street, I was just in time to see the changing of the guard at the royal residence. The usual marching soldiers, with children on their parents’ shoulders speaking in lots of different languages. I couldn’t quite figure out why so many tourists from Mediterranean countries had chosen to vacation in Scandinavia at the end of March since they were always talking about how cold it was, but I’m still jealous of their ability to pick up and go to another part of Europe for their week off. Since it was Holy Week, there were more people around then would probably be typical for a week in March, which made the people watching more entertaining of course. On the way to the national museum I walked through yet another part of the city with a large square, this one featuring a majestic shopping complex and the royal opera house, though the whole square was extensively under construction so didn’t do too much poking around. The national museum was very interesting and well done, I am always amazed by the many similarities between cultures around the world, and learning about ancient Scandinavia proved to be quite a pleasant afternoon. There was also a special exhibit on coinage which always is fascinating to me, seeing coins someone used in Greece 1500 years ago or in England during the Blitz is somehow just as meaningful to me as the clothes that they wore, all different aspects of a different life I suppose. Also some incredible centuries old altarpieces very similar to those of northern Germany, just a little to the south. I spent the early part of the evening in the gardens by the government buildings, and treated myself to a late showing of A Single Man since in Scandinavia movies are shown in their original language with subtitles, rather than the awful dubbing that takes place in Russia. My feet were tired and I knew I had days of walking ahead of me in Stockholm, so I thoroughly enjoyed being entertained for two hours while drinking a Snapple and seeing if I could pronounce any of the words scrolling across the bottom of the screen. I walked back to the hostel along what had become my usual route past the pavilion on the little lake, and realized I had gotten to know another delightful city.
Unfortunately, it was already time for me to leave. Wednesday morning I got my things together and set out for the train station, snapping some last minute pictures of the Tivoli Garden amusement park and the many bike stands on my way. I got some croissants for the road, found my seat, and chatted with a couple of Americans who were also traveling through Northern Europe for a vacation. The husband was a teacher in an international school in Berlin, and the wife is still living in the US but comes over to Europe relatively often so they can travel together. They had been able to see a fair amount of Europe, and were curious about my time in Russia. It was a nice train ride, sometimes chatting other times looking at the small towns passing by outside the window. There really is nothing like traveling by train, and 5 hours was a perfect amount of time to see the countryside, meet some nice people, and catch a quick nap. Before I knew it, I was getting off in the center of a fog-enshrouded Stockholm, ready for the next adventure.
From the waterfront and its modern buildings – one of which was a Marriott, note to self – I walked a little farther to the area of the city known as Christianshavn. Criss-crossed by a series of canals, this is absolutely where I would want to live in Copenhagen. And I would want a boat. Some of the houses lining the water are old-style townhouses with beautiful windows and antique chimneys, while others are modern apartment buildings with glass balconies and contemporary architecture. Regardless, they all enjoy beautiful views of the tree-lined canals and quick access to their boats – which I hope they all have. It felt like stepping into a different world, different from the canals of St. Petersburg and Italy, quiet but still very much alive. I headed back towards the center a different way, after stopping to look at a beautiful church with a spiral spire and noting once again that I needed to come back in the summer when the stairs to the top would be open. I walked past the old royal exchange, the parliament building, plenty of monuments, and the small square that used to be the center square of the city, a small street just off the water and on a canal that is absolutely beautiful and lined with cafes. The cafes were prepared for the weather, since it wasn’t raining plenty of people were sitting outside near space heaters and wrapped up in fleece blankets that had been draped over their chairs, St. Petersburg could learn a few lessons here. If only the Danish kroner hadn’t been so ridiculous, I might have stopped for a coffee, instead I headed up one of the world’s longest shopping streets in the heart of the old city. Paved with cobblestones and open to pedestrians only, it reminded me very much of the Getreidegasse in Salzburg, which always makes me smile. Past the square where the gallows used to stand, and on to more shops where I found some souvenirs and, yes, guilty, bought a gorgeous leather purse for my own souvenir. On the way back to the hostel, by this point it was early evening and the weather was clearing a little so I wanted to take advantage of the relative warmth and clean air and go for a run, I walked past some IKEA electric cars all plugged in and ready for rent, a typical Danish family complete with bike, stroller, and dog, and a couple more parks showing serious signs that spring was knocking at the door. I got pizza with some of the guys who had arrived in my room during the day, one from Costa Rica and two from Switzerland, though the French speaking part. Fun guys, a little older than me and with very interesting stories to tell. I like that just because you have a steady job in Europe doesn’t mean that you don’t continue to travel often when you have a few days, just another part of the lifestyle I appreciate.
The next morning dawned sunny and warmer, with perfect timing since I had planned on making my way to the old fortress in the north of the city via the botanical gardens and the King’s park. The botanical gardens was my favorite, with a beautiful and huge gazebo that I’m sure was in full swing at the end of March, and flowers beginning to poke through the soil. I caught a glimpse of some of the buildings of the University, and made an impromptu stop in the national gallery. The royals have quite the collection, and there were also several special exhibitions of modern art that were quite refreshing if strange, the Hermitage in St. Petersburg is beautiful but usually a little lacking in shockingly modern art. So giant spheres filled with plant life and suspended from strings to create the shape of atoms in the atrium of the national gallery of Denmark were a breath of fresh air. The old fortress is very well preserved, with the layers of earthen ramparts and water, then walls – though not particularly impressive ones – surrounding the collection of buildings in the center. It is like a little enclosed city, with only two points of entry. Walking around the top of the ramparts with the sun on your face and the wind coming in from the sea was an amazing feeling, I think I would visit that place every week if I lived in Copenhagen. It was apparent that many did, plenty of people were jogging or walking their dogs. Just around the corner from the fortress is where the Little Mermaid statue sits, looking out to sea. Unfortunately, a few days before I arrived in Copenhagen this memorial to Hans Christian Anderson’s story had shipped off for the World’s Fair in China. Luckily I hadn’t had my heart set on taking my own picture of the statue, but I was disappointed not to be able to tag Brittany in the photo ☺ Just means I’ll have to go back, what a disappointment ☺. A gorgeous Anglican church sits next to the fortress, all grey stone and looking as though it was dropped in from London, and there is a solemn memorial to all those who fought in the Second World War. There was a wreath of poppies placed at the bottom of it, which brought back memories, and as I headed in towards the Danish Royal Palace I wondered whether it could possibly have been a year and a half since I was standing in front of the Foreign Office in London for the Remembrance Day Parade. Someone is pushing the hand of time forward much too fast.
On the way to the Palace I saw the Catholic church with its façade right on the street, a Russian Orthodox church complete with golden onion domes, and the Marble church. A relatively small church with a massive dome, it is a beautiful piece of architecture and also a peaceful spot in the middle of the city. Walking back into the sunlight and across the street, I was just in time to see the changing of the guard at the royal residence. The usual marching soldiers, with children on their parents’ shoulders speaking in lots of different languages. I couldn’t quite figure out why so many tourists from Mediterranean countries had chosen to vacation in Scandinavia at the end of March since they were always talking about how cold it was, but I’m still jealous of their ability to pick up and go to another part of Europe for their week off. Since it was Holy Week, there were more people around then would probably be typical for a week in March, which made the people watching more entertaining of course. On the way to the national museum I walked through yet another part of the city with a large square, this one featuring a majestic shopping complex and the royal opera house, though the whole square was extensively under construction so didn’t do too much poking around. The national museum was very interesting and well done, I am always amazed by the many similarities between cultures around the world, and learning about ancient Scandinavia proved to be quite a pleasant afternoon. There was also a special exhibit on coinage which always is fascinating to me, seeing coins someone used in Greece 1500 years ago or in England during the Blitz is somehow just as meaningful to me as the clothes that they wore, all different aspects of a different life I suppose. Also some incredible centuries old altarpieces very similar to those of northern Germany, just a little to the south. I spent the early part of the evening in the gardens by the government buildings, and treated myself to a late showing of A Single Man since in Scandinavia movies are shown in their original language with subtitles, rather than the awful dubbing that takes place in Russia. My feet were tired and I knew I had days of walking ahead of me in Stockholm, so I thoroughly enjoyed being entertained for two hours while drinking a Snapple and seeing if I could pronounce any of the words scrolling across the bottom of the screen. I walked back to the hostel along what had become my usual route past the pavilion on the little lake, and realized I had gotten to know another delightful city.
Unfortunately, it was already time for me to leave. Wednesday morning I got my things together and set out for the train station, snapping some last minute pictures of the Tivoli Garden amusement park and the many bike stands on my way. I got some croissants for the road, found my seat, and chatted with a couple of Americans who were also traveling through Northern Europe for a vacation. The husband was a teacher in an international school in Berlin, and the wife is still living in the US but comes over to Europe relatively often so they can travel together. They had been able to see a fair amount of Europe, and were curious about my time in Russia. It was a nice train ride, sometimes chatting other times looking at the small towns passing by outside the window. There really is nothing like traveling by train, and 5 hours was a perfect amount of time to see the countryside, meet some nice people, and catch a quick nap. Before I knew it, I was getting off in the center of a fog-enshrouded Stockholm, ready for the next adventure.
Friday, May 7, 2010
Many, Many Hours in a Bus
It is almost disturbing to add up the number of hours that I have spent in a bus over the last week. A week ago, nice and early on a Friday morning, the CIEE group boarded our double-decker bus and headed south to the Pskov region. Thankfully, new roads had been laid during the past twelve months so the seven-hour drive was reduced to about five. Very close to Estonia (so close that at one point over the weekend we were all getting text messages from our phone company welcoming us to Estonia), Pskov was once on the Russian border. Foundations have been found in the Kremlin (word for fortress, not just the one in Moscow) from the 10th century, and though there was a fire a mere two days before we arrived for our tour, it is an incredibly well-preserved structure as a whole. I think the guide said that the fortress we see is from the 17th century. The fire that occurred just before we got to Pskov was only in two of the towers, destroying the wooden roofs but not causing any serious damage that we could see from our tour. The weather was beautiful, and as we listened to the military and commercial history of the fortress – it played an important role in many battles with the Swedes and the Germans as well as served as the main trading center – we enjoyed the opportunity to walk around in the sunshine and the considerable warmth since Pskov is to the south. With high walls, a moat some 15 meters deep, and a position at the meeting point of two rivers, it was certainly a well-protected location. The church within the fortress walls was also incredibly beautiful, like nearly all churches of its age white on the outside and covered with icons on the inside. This one was particularly unusual because the iconostasis has seven levels of icons and stretches all the way to the ceiling of the cathedral. A very awesome sight. After our tour we had lunch – though we first had to jaywalk across quite the intersection, trusting the Russian drivers to notice us on the crosswalk – and then got back on the bus for a tour of the surrounding area, the highlight of which was a giant monument to Alexander Nevsky, a Russian Prince from some 500 years ago who defeated foreign armies not far from Pskov. The monument was quite impressive, a horseman and soldiers towering above one of the highest hills in the region. After an appropriately ridiculous amount of photography, we headed back to the bus and on towards the Pushkin Hills, to find our hotel.
Pskov is a small city, somewhere around 200,000 people call it home, but Pushkin Hills is a small town, famous for its beautiful landscapes and because Russia’s most famous literary figure spent much time there. Driving through the forest we realized how grateful we were for a weekend away from the city, a chance to relax in a quiet place where spring had come a little more than in St. Petersburg, and where we could see the stars at night and breathe the fresh air. Our hotel was adorable, a very new collection of buildings with a main lodge, small cottages, sauna building, playground, and lots of places to sit outside. The experience was made even more wonderful by the fact that the four group one girls – Megan, Sveta, Irina, and I – had been given our own cottage because there wasn’t enough space in the main lodge. Upon arrival, four of the group one guys – Jay, Brian, Jeremy, and Brent – were also given a cottage much to our delight. So we essentially had our own space for the whole weekend, could put our feet up on the furniture, speak English, watch the BBC on the satellite TV, eat chocolate and drink wine at one in the morning on our porch, and relax and enjoy each others company. We were very grateful to have been so spoiled.
Saturday began with breakfast (at which Megan and I were nearly giddy about the presence of a toaster) and a walk to Pushkin’s family estate about a half an hour down the road and through the forest. It is now situated in what is the equivalent of a national park, and I lost count of the number of times people said ‘its so nice to be outside like this’ over the course of the day. Pushkin, as the Russian saying goes, is ‘everything’ to the Russian people. Russian schoolchildren all know poems by heart (so, it should be noted, did our tour guide), and he is regarded as the country’s true literary genius. Seeing his family’s country property, you could almost imagine how he thought up some of the incredible things he did. We also got to see a working mill, as part of an example property of a wealthier peasant in the nineteenth century Russian countryside. Later in the day we went to the place that inspired his most famous work, Evgenii Ongegin, which was another beautiful property. Some of the scenes from the novel take place in the woods there, and in addition there is an absolutely gorgeous 24-hour sundial on the property, which was very impressive. Then we headed to the monastery where Pushkin is buried, though he died in St. Petersburg after a duel his body was moved to the monastery where he spent quite a bit of time. There was a service going on in the church, which is always a beautiful experience, to step into the dark and incense from the sunshine and fresh air is a unique sensation.
After that it was back to the hotel for dinner, relaxing, banya, and grilling sashlik (essentially shish-ka-bobs, many thanks to grill master Jay who put his expierence working at Chilis to good use) at about midnight. The dark sky and the smoke from the charcoal grill made me almost wish we were in tents – almost. Our beds were pretty comfortable, though we didn’t spend too much time in them.
Sunday we checked out and headed out on a series of excursions before turning towards St. Petersburg. First we went to a medieval fortress where mineral springs pour out the side of a canyon and into a lake where white swans live, the springs and the waterfalls they create each are said to give something to the people who drink the water, one gives youth, another love, another riches. Unfortunately, they weren’t exactly labeled so we’ll just have to wait and see! In my rain boots I filled up some water bottles for people, the water was so cold I could feel it through my boots, but no water got in. Then we hiked up and around some hills, got some snacks in the form of peroshki from the local baking grandmothers, and headed to a monastery where we were treated to a trip into the catacombs. I have been in some of the catacombs in Rome, and in Salzburg too, but this was unlike anything I have experienced. People were lined up outside the entrance, the monks (about 60 live in the monastery) don’t always let people in to the catacombs and so plenty of people were trying to blend into our group when they saw we were being let in. We were handed candles and told to light them immediately, and when we turned the corner it became immediately obvious that it was not just for dramatic effect. There is absolutely no electric lighting in the catacomb, and no outside light makes it inside when the door is shut. I ended up being right behind the monk who was leading us, and so other than his candle in front of me and the faint light it cast in combination with my own, I could see nothing but blackness. It was honestly a different darkness than I had ever experienced, and when you would occasionally hold your candle up to one of the walls and see the gravestones lining them the intensity would only increase. It was definitely an awesome 20 minutes, there in the darkness with only candles and the former leaders of the monastery. Outside the sun was shining, and we headed back to St. Petersburg with some incredible memories and feeling much more relaxed thanks to the beauty of the Pushkin hills.
We returned early enough for some of us to grab a beer at our local café at Primorskaya, and then I headed home to prepare for Finland the next day. Russians travel across the border to Finland for a couple of reasons. Mainly, to shop for fish. Secondly, to shop for other things. It was a fun experience to watch the Russians – I was the only foreigner on the bus which everyone realized when it took me about three times as long to get through passport control – struggling to carry bags full of whole fish and grabbing western brands of shampoo and toothpaste on their way to the checkout. After stopping at the fish stores on the other side of the border, we headed to Umatran (no idea how to spell in English since I only ever saw it in Finnish and Russian) for the next five hours, to walk around in the forest, do some more shopping, eat some delicious pizza, and get back on the bus for the long journey back to St. Petersburg. The city – which is just barely that, some 28,000 people live there – is situated on a canyon created by a man-made dam that is quite beautiful. Our guide explained that in June they open the dam a few times and its quite a sight, all of the water roaring down the canyon to the lake at the bottom. Might be worth a return visit! The ride back was even more entertaining, since the guide left people behind (after spending a weekend with CIEE where Katya and Jarlath count us literally every 20 minutes or so and twice before we head anywhere on the bus this was especially unbelievable) and we wasted multiple hours driving through seemingly backroads at breakneck speed to find them, picked up a couple of bike riders along the way, and then sped towards St. Petersburg but missed the metro. Which was fine, we caught a car from the drop-off spot and were dropped right at our door which was actually better, but unfortunately no one had gotten much sleep due to the rather crazy driving and I was already running on empty in terms of sleep. Regardless, I just closed my eyes and tried to drown out the running commentary and complaints being shouted by the passengers at the driver and guide. Whoever said Russians accept their lot hasn’t met these people. I understand that it was extremely inconvenient and that the guide could have worked a little harder at making sure we got back all together and on time, but I’m really not convinced that yelling and complaining is going to help you at all, or make you feel any better. Luckily my host mom is of the same opinion as I am, so we just curled up in our corner of the bus and waited until we saw the lights of the city. Quite an entertaining experience, not really one that I would wish on anyone but alls well that ends well.
So those are my hours on a bus, and the hours in between, over the past week. Luckily I don’t plan on any more long term bus trips, just plane trips in two weeks when I’m on my way home! All the best from – unfortunately – still chilly St. Petersburg – beth
Pskov is a small city, somewhere around 200,000 people call it home, but Pushkin Hills is a small town, famous for its beautiful landscapes and because Russia’s most famous literary figure spent much time there. Driving through the forest we realized how grateful we were for a weekend away from the city, a chance to relax in a quiet place where spring had come a little more than in St. Petersburg, and where we could see the stars at night and breathe the fresh air. Our hotel was adorable, a very new collection of buildings with a main lodge, small cottages, sauna building, playground, and lots of places to sit outside. The experience was made even more wonderful by the fact that the four group one girls – Megan, Sveta, Irina, and I – had been given our own cottage because there wasn’t enough space in the main lodge. Upon arrival, four of the group one guys – Jay, Brian, Jeremy, and Brent – were also given a cottage much to our delight. So we essentially had our own space for the whole weekend, could put our feet up on the furniture, speak English, watch the BBC on the satellite TV, eat chocolate and drink wine at one in the morning on our porch, and relax and enjoy each others company. We were very grateful to have been so spoiled.
Saturday began with breakfast (at which Megan and I were nearly giddy about the presence of a toaster) and a walk to Pushkin’s family estate about a half an hour down the road and through the forest. It is now situated in what is the equivalent of a national park, and I lost count of the number of times people said ‘its so nice to be outside like this’ over the course of the day. Pushkin, as the Russian saying goes, is ‘everything’ to the Russian people. Russian schoolchildren all know poems by heart (so, it should be noted, did our tour guide), and he is regarded as the country’s true literary genius. Seeing his family’s country property, you could almost imagine how he thought up some of the incredible things he did. We also got to see a working mill, as part of an example property of a wealthier peasant in the nineteenth century Russian countryside. Later in the day we went to the place that inspired his most famous work, Evgenii Ongegin, which was another beautiful property. Some of the scenes from the novel take place in the woods there, and in addition there is an absolutely gorgeous 24-hour sundial on the property, which was very impressive. Then we headed to the monastery where Pushkin is buried, though he died in St. Petersburg after a duel his body was moved to the monastery where he spent quite a bit of time. There was a service going on in the church, which is always a beautiful experience, to step into the dark and incense from the sunshine and fresh air is a unique sensation.
After that it was back to the hotel for dinner, relaxing, banya, and grilling sashlik (essentially shish-ka-bobs, many thanks to grill master Jay who put his expierence working at Chilis to good use) at about midnight. The dark sky and the smoke from the charcoal grill made me almost wish we were in tents – almost. Our beds were pretty comfortable, though we didn’t spend too much time in them.
Sunday we checked out and headed out on a series of excursions before turning towards St. Petersburg. First we went to a medieval fortress where mineral springs pour out the side of a canyon and into a lake where white swans live, the springs and the waterfalls they create each are said to give something to the people who drink the water, one gives youth, another love, another riches. Unfortunately, they weren’t exactly labeled so we’ll just have to wait and see! In my rain boots I filled up some water bottles for people, the water was so cold I could feel it through my boots, but no water got in. Then we hiked up and around some hills, got some snacks in the form of peroshki from the local baking grandmothers, and headed to a monastery where we were treated to a trip into the catacombs. I have been in some of the catacombs in Rome, and in Salzburg too, but this was unlike anything I have experienced. People were lined up outside the entrance, the monks (about 60 live in the monastery) don’t always let people in to the catacombs and so plenty of people were trying to blend into our group when they saw we were being let in. We were handed candles and told to light them immediately, and when we turned the corner it became immediately obvious that it was not just for dramatic effect. There is absolutely no electric lighting in the catacomb, and no outside light makes it inside when the door is shut. I ended up being right behind the monk who was leading us, and so other than his candle in front of me and the faint light it cast in combination with my own, I could see nothing but blackness. It was honestly a different darkness than I had ever experienced, and when you would occasionally hold your candle up to one of the walls and see the gravestones lining them the intensity would only increase. It was definitely an awesome 20 minutes, there in the darkness with only candles and the former leaders of the monastery. Outside the sun was shining, and we headed back to St. Petersburg with some incredible memories and feeling much more relaxed thanks to the beauty of the Pushkin hills.
We returned early enough for some of us to grab a beer at our local café at Primorskaya, and then I headed home to prepare for Finland the next day. Russians travel across the border to Finland for a couple of reasons. Mainly, to shop for fish. Secondly, to shop for other things. It was a fun experience to watch the Russians – I was the only foreigner on the bus which everyone realized when it took me about three times as long to get through passport control – struggling to carry bags full of whole fish and grabbing western brands of shampoo and toothpaste on their way to the checkout. After stopping at the fish stores on the other side of the border, we headed to Umatran (no idea how to spell in English since I only ever saw it in Finnish and Russian) for the next five hours, to walk around in the forest, do some more shopping, eat some delicious pizza, and get back on the bus for the long journey back to St. Petersburg. The city – which is just barely that, some 28,000 people live there – is situated on a canyon created by a man-made dam that is quite beautiful. Our guide explained that in June they open the dam a few times and its quite a sight, all of the water roaring down the canyon to the lake at the bottom. Might be worth a return visit! The ride back was even more entertaining, since the guide left people behind (after spending a weekend with CIEE where Katya and Jarlath count us literally every 20 minutes or so and twice before we head anywhere on the bus this was especially unbelievable) and we wasted multiple hours driving through seemingly backroads at breakneck speed to find them, picked up a couple of bike riders along the way, and then sped towards St. Petersburg but missed the metro. Which was fine, we caught a car from the drop-off spot and were dropped right at our door which was actually better, but unfortunately no one had gotten much sleep due to the rather crazy driving and I was already running on empty in terms of sleep. Regardless, I just closed my eyes and tried to drown out the running commentary and complaints being shouted by the passengers at the driver and guide. Whoever said Russians accept their lot hasn’t met these people. I understand that it was extremely inconvenient and that the guide could have worked a little harder at making sure we got back all together and on time, but I’m really not convinced that yelling and complaining is going to help you at all, or make you feel any better. Luckily my host mom is of the same opinion as I am, so we just curled up in our corner of the bus and waited until we saw the lights of the city. Quite an entertaining experience, not really one that I would wish on anyone but alls well that ends well.
So those are my hours on a bus, and the hours in between, over the past week. Luckily I don’t plan on any more long term bus trips, just plane trips in two weeks when I’m on my way home! All the best from – unfortunately – still chilly St. Petersburg – beth
Saturday, April 24, 2010
The Eyjafjallajokull Blog
No, that wasn’t me just typing in a bunch of random letters, if you haven’t memorized it by now that’s the name of the volcano in Iceland that stranded millions of people, including my parents (luckily they were stranded at home rather than somewhere en route) over the past week and a half. Europe’s air space is now open again, and flights are at close to 100%, but unfortunately its too little too late, and my parents back in the US and my mom here in Russia will have to wait to meet each other in person – which neither of them are happy about. But there’s no controlling mother nature, and I am grateful that it wasn’t my wedding or something of the sort that they had to miss. We made the most of the week as best we could, and though we’re definitely all disappointed, I know now I’ll definitely be back in Russia, because I think either my host mom or my biological mom would be really irritated if they don’t get to meet each other soon. And Ira is convinced that if we come as a family we’ll have to bring grandma too, so Grandma Jan looks like you’re coming to Russia with us soon ☺.
The week started off with a concert by a cello – ensemble, (well after I took a test in grammar) an evening of chamber music that turned out to be one of the most fun concerts I have attended in St. Petersburg. The young men (I believe there were 12 cellos) looked at each other and at the cellist in the middle who served as their director to make sure they stayed together, and the looks they gave each other were more often hysterical or hysterically serious than simple glances. They played a great mix of music, from classical pieces by Shostakovich to jazz and ragtime and even the theme from Jesus Christ Superstar. I think they played at least five encores. It was a great evening, and Jeremy and Ira, who were standing in for madre and padre, had a wonderful time too and were grateful for the surprise chance to spend another cultural evening in this incredible city.
Classes are still going well, I was unfortunately hit by some lovely springtime sinuses and allergies this week so I missed a couple but since I was planning on missing many more as the result of my parents being here its all worked out just fine. I was also glad I hadn’t bought tickets to Swan Lake yet – the traditional ballet we were going to see – as there were plenty of seats, which left Wednesday night open to attend a Russian rap concert that one of my Russian friends had been talking about. It was a fairly famous group – and turns out most white rappers look the same everywhere. It was a good concert, they played some rock music too, and it was maybe the loudest concert I have ever been at. Our ears were ringing for the rest of the night and for most of the next day too. That night, Irina, Eric, and I headed to the Mariinsky Theater for a performance of Giselle by a French ballet company. This was going to be our modern ballet night, and I enjoyed recognizing some of the techniques that I have seen many times in Mary’s choreography and at shows/on videos I’ve watched with her. Modern ballet isn’t for everyone – including small children, as I’m pretty sure that the guy at the end was completely naked though it was pretty dark and well camouflaged – but I’ve definitely gained an appreciation for it and the variations it brings to the stage beyond that of traditional ballet. It was great to be back in the Mariinsky, and I can’t wait until I get to show it off to my family whenever we all make it over here together.
Friday evening was occupied by the CIEE/CMOO (CMOO is the acronym for CIEE when its written in Russian, so that’s what my host mom, for example, knows the program as) Spring Ball 2010. Last year someone had the idea for a traditional ball – 18th/19th century – to be held at Smolny, our campus, which is from that period, complete with costumes, dance lessons, a swordfight, and other craziness. They’ve decided to turn it into an annual tradition, and it really turned out to be a lot of fun. Over the past few weeks we have gone to a woman’s apartment that functions as her costume studio and tried on and picked out traditional ball gowns and cavalier costumes. Her reaction to me walking through the door was ‘oh you’re too tall’, which I found rather funny since in reality I’m really not very tall…the result was that my dress wasn’t floor length but a little shorter, meaning I just had to wear my cute Irish ankle boots (yes Kate that we bought in the pouring rain just before explaining the American Constitution to that crazy guy in the park) since they look slightly period. Anyway, after classes on Friday we all crammed into a couple of the classrooms to curl hair, add layers of mascara, and get dressed in our gowns, hoop skirts and all. A couple of our professors were also attending, and we ran into our St. Petersburg State academic director in a white wig and a dress reminiscent of Catherine the Great in an upstairs hallway, which was quite entertaining. Andrey came as well, and had a great time enjoying the fact that he wasn’t in costumes and all his guy friends from the program looked rather like drunken pirates. He brought me beautiful flowers that magically matched my dress perfectly, there are plenty of pictures on facebook and I will post the link to the professional photos from the photographer on here when we get it. There was also a professional videographer running around all night so we’ll see what comes of that. We danced the waltz, polonaise, and polka, played some ball games, and listened to a few people sing and play instruments – and then watched some of the guys swordfight in the yard with real rapiers. There was a room full of finger sandwiches and small treats as well as champagne, water, and juice, and we had a great time waving our fans and giggling behind them and taking pictures of each others hair and laughing about sitting on each others hoop skirts. The last little bit we were allowed to dance to modern music, which was quite a sight, and everyone headed out smiling but rather exhausted about 10 pm. I only wish we could have taken pictures outside, unfortunately it was threatening to rain and we didn’t want to risk ruining the costumes in a deluge. The weather all week had been beautiful until Thursday when it turned gloomy and gray – though there are green buds on the trees in front of my building which gives me considerable hope that I will see spring before the end of May (it was 32 degrees here today).
So that is a quick recap of what some of the highlights would have been had my parents been able to make it through the ash cloud. Of course there would have been incredible amounts of sightseeing on top of all of that, I really only mentioned the evenings, but as you can see there are always plenty of things going on in this city outside of classes, meetings, and general sightseeing. The week passed quickly, even without goldfish and Cheez Its, and I know that the next month is going to fly. Next weekend we head to Pskov – a town southwest of St. Petersburg where Pushkin wrote some of the most beautiful and famous poetry in the Russian language – and then the following Monday I am going to Finland for the day with my host family! The weekend after that is ‘Victory Day’, celebrating the great Russian victory in WWII, and then the weekend after that is our last weekend as my flight home is Saturday, May 22nd. Not sure where the time goes. I’m finishing up another travel week blog, but wanted to post this one first. Thanks for reading, much love from this beautiful city!
The week started off with a concert by a cello – ensemble, (well after I took a test in grammar) an evening of chamber music that turned out to be one of the most fun concerts I have attended in St. Petersburg. The young men (I believe there were 12 cellos) looked at each other and at the cellist in the middle who served as their director to make sure they stayed together, and the looks they gave each other were more often hysterical or hysterically serious than simple glances. They played a great mix of music, from classical pieces by Shostakovich to jazz and ragtime and even the theme from Jesus Christ Superstar. I think they played at least five encores. It was a great evening, and Jeremy and Ira, who were standing in for madre and padre, had a wonderful time too and were grateful for the surprise chance to spend another cultural evening in this incredible city.
Classes are still going well, I was unfortunately hit by some lovely springtime sinuses and allergies this week so I missed a couple but since I was planning on missing many more as the result of my parents being here its all worked out just fine. I was also glad I hadn’t bought tickets to Swan Lake yet – the traditional ballet we were going to see – as there were plenty of seats, which left Wednesday night open to attend a Russian rap concert that one of my Russian friends had been talking about. It was a fairly famous group – and turns out most white rappers look the same everywhere. It was a good concert, they played some rock music too, and it was maybe the loudest concert I have ever been at. Our ears were ringing for the rest of the night and for most of the next day too. That night, Irina, Eric, and I headed to the Mariinsky Theater for a performance of Giselle by a French ballet company. This was going to be our modern ballet night, and I enjoyed recognizing some of the techniques that I have seen many times in Mary’s choreography and at shows/on videos I’ve watched with her. Modern ballet isn’t for everyone – including small children, as I’m pretty sure that the guy at the end was completely naked though it was pretty dark and well camouflaged – but I’ve definitely gained an appreciation for it and the variations it brings to the stage beyond that of traditional ballet. It was great to be back in the Mariinsky, and I can’t wait until I get to show it off to my family whenever we all make it over here together.
Friday evening was occupied by the CIEE/CMOO (CMOO is the acronym for CIEE when its written in Russian, so that’s what my host mom, for example, knows the program as) Spring Ball 2010. Last year someone had the idea for a traditional ball – 18th/19th century – to be held at Smolny, our campus, which is from that period, complete with costumes, dance lessons, a swordfight, and other craziness. They’ve decided to turn it into an annual tradition, and it really turned out to be a lot of fun. Over the past few weeks we have gone to a woman’s apartment that functions as her costume studio and tried on and picked out traditional ball gowns and cavalier costumes. Her reaction to me walking through the door was ‘oh you’re too tall’, which I found rather funny since in reality I’m really not very tall…the result was that my dress wasn’t floor length but a little shorter, meaning I just had to wear my cute Irish ankle boots (yes Kate that we bought in the pouring rain just before explaining the American Constitution to that crazy guy in the park) since they look slightly period. Anyway, after classes on Friday we all crammed into a couple of the classrooms to curl hair, add layers of mascara, and get dressed in our gowns, hoop skirts and all. A couple of our professors were also attending, and we ran into our St. Petersburg State academic director in a white wig and a dress reminiscent of Catherine the Great in an upstairs hallway, which was quite entertaining. Andrey came as well, and had a great time enjoying the fact that he wasn’t in costumes and all his guy friends from the program looked rather like drunken pirates. He brought me beautiful flowers that magically matched my dress perfectly, there are plenty of pictures on facebook and I will post the link to the professional photos from the photographer on here when we get it. There was also a professional videographer running around all night so we’ll see what comes of that. We danced the waltz, polonaise, and polka, played some ball games, and listened to a few people sing and play instruments – and then watched some of the guys swordfight in the yard with real rapiers. There was a room full of finger sandwiches and small treats as well as champagne, water, and juice, and we had a great time waving our fans and giggling behind them and taking pictures of each others hair and laughing about sitting on each others hoop skirts. The last little bit we were allowed to dance to modern music, which was quite a sight, and everyone headed out smiling but rather exhausted about 10 pm. I only wish we could have taken pictures outside, unfortunately it was threatening to rain and we didn’t want to risk ruining the costumes in a deluge. The weather all week had been beautiful until Thursday when it turned gloomy and gray – though there are green buds on the trees in front of my building which gives me considerable hope that I will see spring before the end of May (it was 32 degrees here today).
So that is a quick recap of what some of the highlights would have been had my parents been able to make it through the ash cloud. Of course there would have been incredible amounts of sightseeing on top of all of that, I really only mentioned the evenings, but as you can see there are always plenty of things going on in this city outside of classes, meetings, and general sightseeing. The week passed quickly, even without goldfish and Cheez Its, and I know that the next month is going to fly. Next weekend we head to Pskov – a town southwest of St. Petersburg where Pushkin wrote some of the most beautiful and famous poetry in the Russian language – and then the following Monday I am going to Finland for the day with my host family! The weekend after that is ‘Victory Day’, celebrating the great Russian victory in WWII, and then the weekend after that is our last weekend as my flight home is Saturday, May 22nd. Not sure where the time goes. I’m finishing up another travel week blog, but wanted to post this one first. Thanks for reading, much love from this beautiful city!
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Happy End of Passover/Beginning of Easter Season :)
Привет from St. Petersburg! I hope everyone has had a wonderful Passover, Easter, or whatever holiday you and yours celebrate this time of the year. I had a wonderful Easter with friends in Stockholm, Sweden – but that’s getting a little ahead of ourselves. Thank you to everyone who checked in to make sure I was okay following the tragedy in Moscow last weekend, I had safely left the city Sunday afternoon on a flight to Copenhagen, and only heard about the terrorist bombing in the metro after a few people posted on my facebook wall to make sure I was really out of the country. Both my study abroad organization (CIEE) and scholarship organization (Boren) also checked in to make sure we were all out of harms way, which thankfully we all were. All of the OU students currently studying on our study abroad program in Moscow are also safe and sound. Needless to say, it was an interesting way to start our vacation week.
I arrived at the Copenhagen airport and easily found my metro train – Copenhagen's metro is very new and only has two lines – and followed the directions to my hostel, 'Sleep in Heaven'. It was a very cute hostel in the more multi-ethnic area of Copenhagen, where there are plenty of bars and little restaurants as well as fun grocery stores serving specific nationalities such as Polish and Turkish. I immediately noticed the number of people riding bikes, even though the sky was darkening and rain was threatening much of the city finds its destination via two wheels, rather than four. Got all set up in the hostel and met the German guy, Hungarian guy, and German girl who were also in my room for the night. The room had two triple-bunk-beds, which I had never seen before!! I was in the middle, not sure I would have been able to sleep on the very top, chatted with the guys for a bit and then headed out for a walk to the old town. It was a gorgeous 25 minute walk between my hostel and the train station/main part of the city, through residential area and across a bridge next to a pavilion on the water and then through a park. Lots of people were out running and were carefully avoiding strolling couples pushing baby carriages. They seem to prefer the old school pram type carriages in Denmark, which I found to be a very picturesque trend. That first night I found the train station, where I would be leaving from three days later for Sweden, and wandered through the alley-like streets of the old town window-shopping and people watching. I also found an electronics store since the first matter of business was to buy a camera to replace the one somewhere in a snowbank in Pavlovsk. I was very tired, so it was a pretty early night at the hostel after chatting some more with the guys in the room.
Monday morning I bought a new camera – Canon Ixus 951S based on recommendations of a good friend and techie and glad to be rid of Kodak – from a very helpful salesman in the electronics store. He spoke English well and helped me find a compatible memory card as well and explained the basics of setting it all up to me since the instruction book is in Danish. The software is in English, though, so from now on everything is fine since I have my computer. The only problem was that I had to fully charge the battery before I could use the camera, and I was more than a good half hour walk from my hostel. I thought I'd see if I could find a café on the way instead of walking all the way back, and tried the train station too. Score another point for good old McDonalds, the restaurant in the train station had electrical outlets for some of its tables. I ordered lunch in thanks and plugged in the camera before using the WiFi to find out about the craziness that had just occurred in Moscow. It was a strange feeling, knowing that it was a real possibility that someone I knew had been affected, sitting in another country and time zone with vivid memories of one of the metro stations from just the day before. Before the day was out, though, the news was in that everyone from our group was safe, though it was of course still an incredibly sad day for Russia.
Unfortunately I have to write a paper for literature so to be continued…
I arrived at the Copenhagen airport and easily found my metro train – Copenhagen's metro is very new and only has two lines – and followed the directions to my hostel, 'Sleep in Heaven'. It was a very cute hostel in the more multi-ethnic area of Copenhagen, where there are plenty of bars and little restaurants as well as fun grocery stores serving specific nationalities such as Polish and Turkish. I immediately noticed the number of people riding bikes, even though the sky was darkening and rain was threatening much of the city finds its destination via two wheels, rather than four. Got all set up in the hostel and met the German guy, Hungarian guy, and German girl who were also in my room for the night. The room had two triple-bunk-beds, which I had never seen before!! I was in the middle, not sure I would have been able to sleep on the very top, chatted with the guys for a bit and then headed out for a walk to the old town. It was a gorgeous 25 minute walk between my hostel and the train station/main part of the city, through residential area and across a bridge next to a pavilion on the water and then through a park. Lots of people were out running and were carefully avoiding strolling couples pushing baby carriages. They seem to prefer the old school pram type carriages in Denmark, which I found to be a very picturesque trend. That first night I found the train station, where I would be leaving from three days later for Sweden, and wandered through the alley-like streets of the old town window-shopping and people watching. I also found an electronics store since the first matter of business was to buy a camera to replace the one somewhere in a snowbank in Pavlovsk. I was very tired, so it was a pretty early night at the hostel after chatting some more with the guys in the room.
Monday morning I bought a new camera – Canon Ixus 951S based on recommendations of a good friend and techie and glad to be rid of Kodak – from a very helpful salesman in the electronics store. He spoke English well and helped me find a compatible memory card as well and explained the basics of setting it all up to me since the instruction book is in Danish. The software is in English, though, so from now on everything is fine since I have my computer. The only problem was that I had to fully charge the battery before I could use the camera, and I was more than a good half hour walk from my hostel. I thought I'd see if I could find a café on the way instead of walking all the way back, and tried the train station too. Score another point for good old McDonalds, the restaurant in the train station had electrical outlets for some of its tables. I ordered lunch in thanks and plugged in the camera before using the WiFi to find out about the craziness that had just occurred in Moscow. It was a strange feeling, knowing that it was a real possibility that someone I knew had been affected, sitting in another country and time zone with vivid memories of one of the metro stations from just the day before. Before the day was out, though, the news was in that everyone from our group was safe, though it was of course still an incredibly sad day for Russia.
Unfortunately I have to write a paper for literature so to be continued…
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