Russia

One more week and I will be en route home. I cannot believe it’s happening so soon. I am wrapping up my project here, learning the Sunday tropars of Znamenny chant to record and then perform this week, while mastering square notation and ancient church slavonic. Tomorrow I am traveling with my Orthodox choir to several villages to go on a kind of singing pilgrimage, as a part of the monastery’s mission. I spent the better part of today with my host mother and host sister. I will miss them all dearly. My elderly host father, he is 82, tried my peanut butter the other night. I wish I could accurately describe just how carefully he dabbed the foreign spread onto his tongue so as just to taste it and not actually eat it, for fear it might be an unpleasant experience and his perfect manners would be spoiled in the reaction he might be forced to let out and would then become knowledgeable to me. He smiled afterwards and thanked me. I explained we all ate this with jam as children. The previous night my host mother made blini, which are Russian pancakes that are almost the same thing as crepes, Russians feign any knowledge of what a crepe is, and I often wonder if the French would as well if blini were mentioned. 🙂 We had not had blini yet at home here and I had also not seen the jam that is so often spread on the delicious pancakes. My father, stooped down and from one of the low cuboards in the kitchen began to pull out huge glass jars, covered with wax paper and rubber bands. The jars were full of “jam”. He was quite excited as he opened them, spooning out a little bit of each for me to taste as I helped to cook the blini. The first bite was enough to make me aware that this jam was old enough to have begun to ferment. The taste of alcohol was pungent and sharp as I laughed and began to protest that in fact this must be old jam! Both my host parents agreed and when we all sat down to dinner continued to dwell upon my remarks about the jam. I ate cheese with my blini that night, I could not handle the jam. I have no idea just how old the jam was but my family had a wonderfully pleasant evening. 😉

I heard a tale from Riley the other night, of her host sister’s former boyfriend. Apparently he was diagnosed with Type I Diabetes, and it was decided by all members of the family, including himself, that it would be best for the two of them to end their relationship. Marriage for him, it seemed was out of the question, his life expectancy and the seriousness if not the stigmatism attatched to it, required this decision. When I heard this story I was immediately forced to remind myself as I have to time and again that I am not in a first world country. And even more, I am not in a third world country. Russia is truly one of the only countries that is actually a second world country. While children diagnosed with Type I Diabetes in third world countries face death, and most children in first world countries are able to live a halfway normal life, this idea of what might lie inbetween was aroused in my mind. Then I began to remember other things I have realized about my disease here. No one knows what my insulin pump is. When I go through security at airports, stores, protests, my pump is completely foreign. When I explain what it is, it still makes no sense to them. I realize this is because the technology that I take for granted on a daily basis is simply not affordable or even available here. While insulin and the necessary supplies to inject it, as well as blood sugar machines can be found in every Apteka, I have never seen anything in any Magazeen that would allude to its existence. While Type II is known by many, to be the American disease, Type I because it is an entirely different disease is not categorized with Type II in any aspect. If only America would do so as well! I hope to do some research when I return to the states about Diabetes in second world countries.

I will miss it here dearly, and hope that I can return someday and visit my host family. Tonight at dinner my father suggested that my family could come and live in their apartment, and he talks daily of me staying and going to Sivastople for the summer with them. I only wish I could invite them to visit America. It is unbelievably difficult for Americans to visit Russia and vice versa. The American government has consistently sent us notices of the “dangers” we face here, and I have no doubt that if they could they would not allow us to visit here under any condition, which is why we had so many problems with our government and the program from the start.  I can only hope that our relations as countries improve.

Well, it’s eleven and the sun is still out, but I should be heading to bed, as I must be on the metro by 5:45 tomorrow morning. I can’t wait to be back and to once again hear my language and see my alphabet!

I spent last week in Moscow. The seven of us shared an apartment once again and we spent several glorious days exploring Moscow and falling in love with the city. It was spring there and the weather was glorious and the dreariness of St. Petersburg, the sunshine and all cheered us and we soaked up the much needed vitamin d. Moscow, as everyone told us, was nothing like St. Petersburg. The city was one with a history that cannot be hidden. In the heart of St. Petersburg one can imagine, if you aren’t reading any of the signs, looking at the people, or rather, what people are doing!, then you can sometimes catch glimpses of what some may refer to be European traits. These traits lie only in the architecture, let me assure you, nowhere else. However, in Moscow it is simply impossible. Soviet times have marked this city with not only buildings but reminders everywhere of the former glory and horror that this country experienced. The shopping center in Red square, which can be seen in my photos on facebook, stands directly across from Lenin’s grave; Materialism opposite so-called “Marxism”. CCCP t-shirts are sold everywhere, the red star and emblem being purchased by tourists continuously as the people who lived through this era walk by, watching all they they might have revered and hated become plastic objects for those who could never understand their people. Soviet times are still fresh in the memories of those that lived through them, and the ignorance of outsiders and the new generation of Russians who have grown up in a different time is unbelievably evident. However what seems even more evident is the amount of brainwashing that we as Americans have received from our own government about Russia and the same from the Russian government to the Russians about Americans. Many people refuse to believe that we are from America, claiming we are too pretty and polite, in other words because we aren’t obese, stupid, rude, or loud all of the time. And it’s true, I’ve seen such Americans here, but I truly believe that Russians, out of basically every other people in the world, know that the government does not always represent the people! But I cannot deny that our government in America does represent the majority, my country re-elected Bush. Hopefully in the future these stereotypes and views will change.

On May Day in Moscow, Korinna and I marched in a political protest with the group “яблока”, the Russian Democratic Party. The website in english is http://www.eng.yabloko.ru/, if you are interested in learning more about the group. We arrived that morning, and seeing a group of people holding flags with this emblem, we headed towards them. Immediately we noticed that in order to stand in the park, we had to go through metal detectors and security. This is daily life here for most, we go through security to get into stores, not just to leave them. Once we were in, we began our journey. Police lined our path, almost as many police officers as people in the demonstration. For some reason however, I didn’t feel threatened. At home, in protests I have often felt worried if not scared of such security. Here though some of the officers were smiling at us, as they stood there enjoying the warm sun and activities that made their day more eventful than normal. When we arrived at the ending point to hear the speeches, we again went through security, and gathered to listen to several people speak, including a young mother who spoke a great deal about her children and the future she wanted for them. Although I could understand only parts of what was said I was honored just to be part of a protest and rally in this country.

Now I’m back in St. Petersburg working on my Independent Study Project and I am beginning to get used to the freedom and independence that this month has given me. I am studying the return to the Orthdox religion that an entire country of “atheists” has re-entered and once again it has become the primary religion. My focus is on the use of music used within the church. For years Znammeny Chant, the specifically Russian chant, was preserved in the Orthodox church until the opening to the west by Peter the Great and his female heirs would allow for Western music to shape and change the music in the liturgy of Orthodox services. Now there are many debates as to what kind of music should be used as these churches are turned back, from swimming pools and museums of atheism, to what they were originally built to be. Vladimir used Orthdoxy as a tool to unite Russia at the beginning and now with immigration, diversity, a declining population, a narrow economic base, and as of yesterday, a new President!, the country is struggling to once again find a unifying characteristic, something to keep it all together.

Medvedev was inaugurated yesterday, they do things quickly here, the voting took place while I was in Irkutsk, and now they have a new president, and of course a new prime minister. The almost royal ceremony took place in the morning while Putin and the group of candidates who lost the election looked on with stern faces. One can almost feel sorry for Putin, he’s gone from number one to number two, and if one understands just how much power the leader of this country has, one can barely understand how he will manage in this lower status.

The sun is just beginning to set now, it’s 10:40pm, and I am becoming quite fond of these semi-white nights. Unfortunately I will not be in St. Petersburg for the week or two when the sun never sets, but right now I am quite content with sunlight all evening! The flowers are beginning to bloom and the trees are starting to become heavy with leaves. I bought strawberries today and ate some of my peanut butter that I have been rationing these past three months 😉 I hope that things are well back in the states and that spring is also upon you!

I have officially begun to wonder how on earth I am going to adjust to being back in America. Last week I had several turning points. I finally felt at home and my routine was set, the oddities of the outside world had become normal. I feel that I also crossed a major hurdle in my ability to speak this fascinating language. While I have a long ways to go next month with my progress I am now far more confident and am excited to have more independence. I am becoming a tad terrified of my return, graduating, finding a job, etc., but for the most part I have come to realize just how much these past two months have truly changed me. Russia is such a unique and incredibly different place from Europe and America that I have the most difficult time in my attempt to compare and successfully analyze what is going on around me. The ideology from the Soviet Era is one that is still so evident that I often become desperate for more of an understanding. Our classes and lectures can only scratch the surface, but I believe that unless you live in this country there is really no way to ever understand. Thus, when I learned Friday that SIT is cancelling the Russia program for good I was shocked. Apparently all of the “issues” we experienced here with the government have led to this decision, one which I feel is an extraordinarily bad decision on their part. The more I am here and the more I learn of Russia the more I realize just how much we will need them in the near future. Russia has oil, Russia has the largest source of freshwater, and Russia has spheres of influence and power that we will soon be desparate to have. However, we must cross certain boundaries which we seem to ignore as so many Americans throw Russia in with Europe and that simply cannot be done. These two areas could not be more different. I walk around every day marvelling at the differences and constantly am reminded of what anyone over the age of 30 has dealt with in their life. Soviet times are so unbelievably unique to this country and the mindset, culture, and ideology is still so reminiscent and yet also at times quite distant. We had a wonderful anthropology lecture last week about communal apartments. There are many of them still in existence, and I was fascinated to learn and actually see how divided they were. In one apartment there may be many families each with their own room as their dwelling. Every single ounce of space in the rest of the apartment was divided up exactly, everyone had their own stoves, tables, even lightbulbs and light switches! There is a link that I will post later to his website where you can watch his documentaries and read his study in English, I would highly recommend at least checking it out!

Imagine that you are in a foreign country and you are sight-reading music on your own in a room full of people listening, ok, and then imagine that you are singing music in a foreign but modern language, ok, and then imagine that it uses a different alphabet that you just learned, then imagine that you are sight-reading a chant entirely unique to the country, and then imagine that the unique chant in the foreign language that you are sight-reading in front of a room of russian orthodox singers is in fact in ancient church slavonic which has its own alphabet, and then imagine you are doing this all at the same time. Ack! I was mortified but this was such a rush! This is my second full week in the choir at the Russian Orthodox church, and on Sunday I will be performing with them for Easter services.

My study next month will focus on Post Soviet Re-emergence of Russian Orthodoxy/Religion with Music as an example. I had originally planned on researching and studying environmental ngo’s and groups, but I found this to be literally impossible. The views of Europe and America do not exist here. While the Russian people are far from being wasteful, they basically lived through a great depression for 75 years, the mentality just hasn’t taken hold yet. So I had to change my focus and will spend May attending various services at different Orthodox Cathedrals, singing in choirs, an in-depth study of Zmanneny chant, many interviews and time spent gathering information about the re-emergance of religion here.

America seems to be so far away, and the headlines seem to be unbelievably frivolous or entirely disturbing but my constanst obsession with what is happening in the world has led me to a frustrating need to read the news daily. Trying to explain the news in America to my family is quite difficult, how do you explain a “war on terror”, Iraq, polygomy, a failing economy, and social upheavals to a country who views America as basically crazy. And, after these past few months I feel the same, I mean there are many issues here some even similar, but this superiority complex and our unlawful actions all over the world while our country is ripping itself apart from the inside are hard to understand. But, I must admit I miss my country for many reasons as well. I miss the push to change, I miss the idea that you can make change, I miss my own community in ways I never thought I would. I see so much hope and potential for Russia sometimes, but at the same time I must realize that I am no authority and that I have no right to impose my ideas on a country. My own nationalistic tendencies terrify me at times. Previously, travelling to europe I truly saw the evolution of societies that had progressed far past my own, thought that was to me literally brilliant. But here I find things that I stop and just think, why on earth do they still do this? why is their ideology so backwards? haha see! It’s not backwards at all and I have no right to assume that what they do is any worse than what I am used to. Anyway, Happy Earth Day!, it was glorious here yesterday but unfortunately despite my insistence to wear sandals and a sundress today (much to the surprise of the Russian people), it was somewhat dreary and cold. It’s not celebrated here 😉 But then again we have no Women’s Day in America! I led a discussion in class today on abortion/pregnancy/and the population crisis in russia. They were the first country to legalize abortion. The division between men and women in my class today was quite fascinating to observe!

After my week of illness in Irkutsk, I was ready to join my group. My friend Korrina had travelled back to Irkutsk to see a play and she joined me on Saturday for our long journey to the village. We boarded a marshutka (small van) headed for улан уде ( the city we would meet our group in before the bus ride to the actual village). It was filled with laborers from Uzbekistan, and for eight hours we travelled through siberia, through the hills, all the way up lake baikal, around curvy streets, and waited for lengthy periods of time for cows to cross the road, trains to roll over the tracks, and for the men to get out and smoke. We finally arrived and soon we found our group. The next day we travelled to the old believers village on a bus, not knowing what we would find. We arrived and walked through a maze of wooden houses painted and decorated with beautiful designs, a sign of the old believers. We went to each of the houses the members of our group would be staying in. At every house they insisted on trying to feed us. When Russians offer you tea, they are offering you so much more! They are actually attempting to stuff you full of the most wonderful food and make you drink shots of vodka with them. The tea in the village itself was fanstastic and I miss it still. My babushka was a lady in her 80s. She had children adn grandchildren, but only one daughter and one grandaughter still lived in the village. The old believers are struggling to survive and continue to exist. This is primarily because of the fact that historically after the purges and the soviet times, a resurgance of religion occurred and those who had been alive or who had still practiced religion during those years were able to continue. However, as Russia now develops, the jobs and education in such villages do not meet the needs of their offspring, so instead the village is full of the elderly. The first house we arrived at was the spiritual leaders house. She had broken her leg and was so upset she could not prepare tea for us, but really we were far more interested in the red corner, the corner in which icons from the 17th century sat. I was in awe of their beauty and their history. Soon we moved on to where stacie and riley would stay. Their babushka simply could not understand why we had come to siberia, why we had come to a place where there was so much hardship and so much work that had to be done. These people get up every day and work all day, but there is a certain beauty in the way they live their lives. They gather together often and make music and cook, something that Americans take for granted. She instantly attempted to label stacie and I with nationalities laughing at stacie and calling her a gypsy and grabbing my cheeks and awing over how I must have been ukranian. The day before, the Uzbekistani men thought that Korrinna and I were from Latvia and since then I have been called German and Finnish. I have also had numerous people come up to me and speak other languages besides Russian, so convinced I know the language they are, that even when I begin to tell them in Russian, German, and English that I don’t understand and my bewildered face is apparent, they still talk. I am quite glad they don’t think I am American! Our group does not look very American, so it is rare that people can tell where we are from. The next day we gathered at the spirtual leader’s house once again and with our hair tied back, kerchiefs on our head, and aprons covering our bodies, we made palmeenee (a type of dumplings). We rolled out the dough, placed meat and potatoes in, and learned how to fold the beautiful dumplings, while Alla taught us Russian folk songs to sing. Soon we were done, and while they cooked we were shuffled back to our own homes where our babushkas dressed us in traditional clothing. Then, we returned in full ensemble and sat at a huge table, americans on one side and all of our babushkas and the two dedushkas on the other side. The table was full of food and alcohol. Moonshine and vodka kept filling our shot glasses and I drank more than I ever have in my life. We sang, we danced, and it was wonderful! We left that evening for the airport, to fly back to the modern world.

The flight from Irkutsk back to moscow and then on to St. Petersburg took its toll on the group. We were all quite affected by the time change and the flight, not to mention the alchohol and events of the day before. We met our families and moved in. I adore my family here, they are wonderfully crazy and treat me as a daughter. I have been extraordinarily lucky with the families that I have been placed with. Others in the group have had issues and problems with their living situations, and I have been fortunate. Poor Stacie, she is a vegetarian and the people here get mad at her when she doesn’t eat meat, tell her she’s crazy and anorexic. I have tried to tell people how unhealthy it is to meat in general but they don’t listen. I had to fight my father this morning to stop him from cooking me eggs and sausage again. Yesterday he made me some for breakfast after Stacie and stumbled back home early in the morning, and I could barely stomach it. They have cereal, granola which they call muesli, that I eat for breakfast and that is plenty. But they insist on big breakfasts here and smaller lunches than I am used to.

This was my first full week back in St. Petersburg. Three hours of the Russian language a day and lectures in Gender Studies, Economics, and Politics at the grad school here have filled this first week. Stacie and I also met two british men at the Irish Pub next to my apartment. They speak almost no russian and they are engineers for Nissan who just moved here. Nissan pays for their housing and everything on top of a generous salary, friday night we went over to see their apartment and the two flats, which are connected,  were the largest I have yet seen in Russia and quite beautiful. My group is dealing with major sickness. Stuart is in the hospital with some terrible virus, he was vomiting blood on Friday night.We visited him at the hospital yesterday. Sasha, Michael, and Stacie have also all been throwing up this weekend. Riley, Korinna, and I have been lucky enough to be healthy all weekend, thank goodness. Hopefully we will continue to be healthy.  I must go now as sasha, korinna, and stacie are coming over to play music, sasha has a banjo and there’s a piano here. I hope all is well in the states, that this terrible election fight will be over soon, and that NATO falls apart (oh how I wish, poor russia!).

Good morning, or rather happy day after St. Patrick’s Day! (That is, where you are!) It is not celebrated here. My friends went to a pub last night, called “The Liverpool Pub” to celebrate, but I haven’t yet heard how it went, I am battling an ongoing illness. This past weekend has been somewhat stressful but there are definite positives as well! Stacy came over to help cook, and I did in fact cook chili and cornbread as mentioned, all improvised, as I had no recipe, but  magically after we had, to our delight, discovered baking powder in the cupboard and chili powder at the market, it was a success! Friday, Stacy and I took our weekly test,  Alla sent us off early, and we wandered off to wait until the other class was done so that we could all hang out. I had a fever and felt pretty badly as we wandered down Karl Marx and Lenin Street. The two main streets in every city are almost always Karl Marx and Lenin! We soon found a bookstore with a couch and Stacy insisted we go in and sit. So, sit I did. Until, a police officer came up and began to talk to me. He was not angry or rude, just perplexed because he was trying to explain something to me. I explained in what little Russian I knew that I was sitting because I did not feel well and that I was waiting for my friend. I called Stacy at that moment, she was off looking at books, while a worker came over who spoke English and laughed saying they had a policy that bags were to go in lockers and coats on the hooks by the door. I knew this rule, I’d followed it before, but I was slightly terrified that I looked like a pauper off the streets trying to find a warm place to sit down! Stacy came back and found me immediately and she bought a notebook and we left. We headed towards our favorite place in Irkutsk, a Spanish coffee shop. Stacy is originally from Portugal and speaks Portuguese and Spanish. Although the menu is in Russian, the coffee is definitely Spanish and the tiny little café is beautiful. Because of the Russian idea of inside and outside being separate worlds, café’s are even more secluded and private than anywhere else. Soon we returned to the center and picked up the rest of our group. Riley was off this week with a professor, climbing the mountains, visiting villages, and studying. She has been to Russia twice before and speaks Russian at a level far past the rest of us. So, the six of us headed off to the mini-football (indoor soccer) stadium, my father’s team was playing that night. It was a wonderful game even though they lost; none of us had ever seen football played this way. Wooden floors and a basketball court sized playing field. The nets were even smaller. The game however, seemed far more dangerous, fierce, and difficult than any of us had seen! We all returned the next day for the next game and my father’s team won! That evening we went to the Philharmonic Hall to hear a philharmonic orchestra play Bach. Much to my surprise the first few notes made it quite clear that in fact they were playing Mozart. The poster had not said this. The group was amazing and a female pianist played Mozart’s piano concerto no. 27 beautifully, while the first violist (also a female) conducted! The concertmistress and the three female cellos then all of a sudden broke out into Piazzola and I gasped as they continued with Bach’s Brandenburg Concerto No.3. I was in heaven! I am in a city of literally 300,000 people in the middle of Siberia, and the musicians here might as well be playing in a metropolis symphony! Sasha then showed us the Mongolian restaurant he had found, which was wonderful and we ate and headed off to a “Klub”. This one was not a night club, there was no security, and was simply a bowling alley with a dance floor, so much better than last weekend. Sunday morning I woke up with a fever and a cough, I’ve never had such a bad one. I stayed home, delirious all day and all that night. My host mother, a doctor, and a huge fan of alternative medications came into my room every hour on Sunday and then on Monday it was my host brothers who came in every hour with either fruit or salad, and some sort of herbal concoction. I have never ingested more vitamin c in my life. Tablets, packets, oranges, glasses upon glasses hot water and berries chock full of antioxidants (we don’t have these berries in the US), bitter tea, sweet tea, tea with herbs floating in it that I had to drink. Alla called me mid-day and I asked about going to see a doctor about my cough that still wouldn’t go away. She said she’d be by that evening and that we’d call an ambulance for a ride! “What!?, it’s not an emergency!” She laughed at me, I said “I can’t afford that!” She laughed even more. Apparently, all ambulance rides are free here. Haha! Also, it does not need to be an emergency at all; they provide everyone with a ride that needs one to get health care. I hate the United States healthcare system! (and it’s not going to change, because the one person who wants to actually reform it is not going to get nominated!) However, later on I realized that I felt a bit better and called her to tell her I did not need to go. Originally she was getting me antibiotics. However, my mother prescribed me some over the phone. Stas, my host brother, was to go down to the аптека, pharmacy, (two buildings away) to get it for me. It cost about $40. I now realize how much I trusted him, because I had to give him my check card and pin code in order to get cash, as both he and I did not have enough and no one else was home. Everything was fine, he even brought me a receipt and joked about it with Alla that evening when she and our host family coordinator came over anyway to see how I was doing. My host mother got into a car accident last night. She is perfectly fine, thank god! It also wasn’t her fault, she got hit from behind. I am not going to the first village this week. Instead I am staying with my host family and resting. I will join the group this weekend instead when they head to the second village. I am going to miss Irkutsk and my host family so much, it was been a wonderful experience. I am considering coming back here, via the Trans-Siberian Railroad, for my Independent Study and volunteering at the Baikal EcoWave Organization and staying with my family if it is alright with them.

As for today I still have a cough but am feeling better. My group has left for the town so I feel mildly abandoned! (of course its not their fault!)

I hope things are well…I keep seeing anti-american protests on tv, I wish I knew more of what was going on in American news, why is condoleeza rice on tv here every hour? haha, oh well!

Well, my two weeks in Irkutsk are about over. Tonight I am going to attempt to cook an “American” meal for my family. I am hoping to make chili and cornbread, because its difficult to find much besides cheeseburgers and french fries that make up the “American” diet. However, finding cornmeal and kidney beans could be an issue!

On Tuesday, we visited Baikal EcoWave, a non-profit organization in Irkutsk. They are struggling to fight for the preservation and protection of this incredible world wonder. Pulp and paper factories as well as toxic waste from other plants around the lake are ruining the supply of freshwater that in the next decade will become a coveted spot! The lady in charge, Jane Sommers, is from Britain, and is absolutely brilliant! She spoke with us for a few hours about these issues and what solutions the organization is focused on achieving. After my j-term class, it was fascinating to see how a non-profit works in Russia and to be able to compare the development of non-profits in the US to those here.

Yesterday, a local professor spoke to us about the issues of migration/immigration in Russia. The most fascinating concept for me was the idea that before the collapse of the Soviet Union, migration did not exist. Now however, trans-border migration occurs, because the now separate countries are still connected to Russia. The stereotypes and myths surrounding migrant workers, especially those from China are absurd, but they are so similar to those in the United States, that one must step back and realize that the absurd notions of the US towards immigration are not unique.  Yellow journalism frequently promotes fear here, just as it does in the states. The Russians are terrified that someone may sneak up in the middle of the night and steal Siberia away from them! 😉 They have feared this for hundreds of years however, and it has as of yet to happen.

I would love clarification/information on an idea I heard presented yesterday as well. Apparently there are Albanian politicians pushing for Kosovo to join Albania when the independence from Serbia is settled!! Is this true!!????!!! I couldn’t imagine, the very spot of the legendary battle that now verifies Serbia’s ethnicity and sustains Serbia’s nationalism would become part of Albania!? Once again, I’d love some information on this, is this true??

The language is becoming more and more familiar and the alphabet is slowly becoming second nature. Writing “N”‘s backwards is now entirely second nature. I was writing something in english last night and realized that I could no longer write an N and that I was assuming it was making the “E” sound that it does in Russian. Ack! I still can barely speak it though, reading is one thing, but actually forming thoughts in my head is so difficult. I have yet another test tomorrow, hopefully this will go better than the last!

I went to a night club this weekend, despite my host brothers’ protests, and it was as terrible as they promised.  I now have four bruises on my ribcage, just from trying to check-in my coat and get through security (this alone took two hours). Russians also simply cannot dance, so I fit in at least in that respect, but we also spent ungodly amounts of money to get into the club and then of course for shots of vodka (this at least calmed my nerves!) Never again!

I hope all is well back in the states! I would love an update on news/politics/life there! I try and read the news when I can, but of course that isn’t exactly the best source!

Well,  I have been in Irkutsk for over a week now. Today is International Women’s Day. The morning began with my host father and brothers returning from the downtown, flowers in hand. For my mother there was the largest bouquet of roses I have ever seen, and a sewing machine!! My host brothers handed me a bouquet of flowers, much to my suprise, which I promptly put on my windowsill in the sunshine. Within an hour they had opened and were stretched outward towards the sun as if they somehow hoped to reach it. My family was surprised with this and moved the other flowers to the windowsill as well. Throughout the morning and early afternoon people kept showing up at the door with gifts for my mother. My mother and father were engrossed in attempting to learn how to use the sewing machine. I could only sit on my hands at the edge of my chair and try not to laugh. It was quite an experience for them. I adore my family, they have so much life in them.

My group travelled to Angarsk yesterday, a town built through industry, oil and aluminum. The people there were fascinating and fascinated with us in turn, they did not often have foreign visitors. We went to a concert, a sort of talent show/beauty pageant that evening at the “Club”. During Soviet times, true to Marx’s abhorrence of religion, the “Club” served as a sort of social place in which people would gather. We heard a choir sing traditional songs and we were invited back into the dressing room afterwards to hear more. Today they performed at the Philharmonic Hall in Irkutsk and a few of us went to see them. The music is unusually modal and parallel fifths are used consistently, Bach would cringe! The language is a challenge, but the alphabet has become much easier to recognize. Tomorrow I will return to the Orthodox church that my family took me to last week. Since I am no longer sick, I get to have the wonderful experience of bathing in the holy water. The Saint of Irkutsk blessed this water area, and from a pipe comes the water you can partly wash yourself with, drink, and collect, but in the small hut next to it you can enter, take your clothes off, and step down into a frozen tub of water. The screaming can be heard by all outside, and in this way you are cleansed. The water tastes odd, I try not to drink lots of it and simply cross myself a few extra times in hope that God will forgive me! 😉

There is a cafe/bar here with a sign on the door that reads No American Citizens allowed, Serbs from Kosovo. I wonder what the media in the states is saying of the situation there, because it is so obviously one-sided here. I often wonder if there is animosity towards me for that reason. I stick out like a sore thumb with my small merrill shoes or flat black slippers, everyone here wears the fanciest heeled boots. Riding home in the marchutka, I have experienced many an old lady glaring disapprovingly down at my feet. I try to hide my feet underneath, but then others notice the movement. People walk down the streets gawking at my group, especially the smiles on our faces that seem to make us look so unbelievably foreign that there is no hiding our non-slavic nationalities.

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Ah! After a five hour time change and six hour flight, I am now in Siberia. We spent three days on Lake Baikal, the deepest lake in the world. We took a hydrofoil across the lake, and watched as cars and other vehicles simply drove across. We stayed in a cabin and continued our orientation. I took part in my first experience in a banya, in which you enter a steam room naked, and then every ten minutes dump water over yourself. It is considered a type of medicine, a cleansing method, and a very communal experience. Yesterday we traveled back into Irkutsk where we met our host families and spent our first night with them. My family speaks no English, so this has been an interesting experience so far!

I have spent the past three days in St. Petersburg.  The seven of us have stayed in an apartment together that has a beautiful view of the water that makes up our island. St. Petersburg is composed of 42 islands, with canals and water flowing throughout. It is the closest thing to a European city that Russia has, but even that is only what you see on the surface. The ideological differences and cultural values are vastly different from the Western world. I am leaving in an hour for a five-hour plane ride to Siberia where I will stay for a month and do a field study on the idea of health care and the role of government in the areas outside of Western Russia.