Leaving Russia

It has been 3 days, 27 hours, 14 minutes, and 54 seconds since I arrived home.

I did a lot on this trip to Russia, and quite frankly, I did not want to leave.

I tried new foods such as Salad Olivier, a perfect demonstration of the Russian concept of “salad.” Essentially, it is mayonnaise, bread, salami, capers, potatoes, and a bunch of other unknown ingredients. Though it may be similar to a chopped up / liquified sandwich, I also learned that it is delicious.

Russian spicy carrot salad with raisins is also delicious.

I became accustomed to finding mayonnaise or sour cream on everything from oatmeal to pizza. Regrettably, I did not learn to like mayonnaise.

I found a new favorite food: Finnish pickles. I also found that I can live simply on yogurt, especially if it is rhubarb flavored. Finally, TUC crackers need to be imported to the United States. I could probably live off them too. Actually, I probably have if you consider  my 35 hour train rides.

Fresh fruit and vegetables are precious and should be cherished. Ethnic food should also be cherished, especially if it is from Putin’s favorite Indian restaurant in all of Russia: Tandoor.

Thanks to the exchange rate, I learned how to divide any number by 30. On the other hand, I have completely forgotten how to tip.

I learned that when you have change, everyone loves you. If you don’t, well, expect death glares from the bus conductors as they give you all their precious coins.

I made new friends, Russian and American (and German, Swiss, Ukrainian, Belorussian, and Moldavian). I learned that when you meet someone new and you tell them that you are from San Francisco, they automatically assume that you knew Steve Jobs personally, and they give you their condolences.

Everyone loves Apple. Everyone loves Google. But, if you ask about Facebook, everyone hates it. Everyone has Vkontakte. Perhaps, unsurprisingly, the only difference between Facebook and Vkontakte is the name…. and the fact that you can stream any movie, tv show, or song for free on it.

I learned how to edit research essays (and in doing so I learned perhaps more than I ever wanted to know about climate change in the Holocene period, peat moss, Siberian artifacts, and ancient animal bone fragments).

I also learned how to tell people in excellent Russian, Spanish, English and French, to please, take off your coat and leave it in the cloakroom.

I watched the sunset from the roof of the Hermitage Museum.

I went to the largest city north of the Arctic Circle, Murmansk, and made my first genuine snowman there. I also travelled to Novgorod, Tallinn, Kiev, Moscow, Vyborg, and Helsinki. From experience, Russian border guards are exactly as frightening as you think they are, and trains are more comfortable than you could ever imagine.

I became more than slightly addicted to gingerbread and glogg.

I endured freezing conditions, had ice form on my eyebrows, and walked through waist deep snow simply for the fun of it (and then regretted it later). Incidentally, I also learned that putting freezing hands/feet/face immediately into hot water is pretty much the most painful experience a person can endure. Rookie mistake. I will not be doing that again. Ever.

I learned that black ice is more dangerous than anything else anyone will encounter in St. Petersburg, except maybe falling icicles.

I discovered that Vitamin D tablets are godly, especially since I did not seen the sun for weeks at a time. I learned for the first (see: fiftieth) time that just because you cannot see the sun does not mean that you cannot get a sunburn.

I visited more museums in the last four months than perhaps my whole life. I also think I went to more operas, ballets, and symphonies than I think I will go to in my entire life.

I saw The Nutcracker in the Mariinsky Theater.

Watching James Bond in Russian was a personal accomplishment. Though spending 500 rubles on the ticket was not so awesome.

I fed hundreds of finches, pigeons, crows, ducks, squirrels, sea gulls and other animals. I chased field mice through the snow.

I was elbowed, pushed, stepped on, and generally abused by 80 year old women on the metro. My nose was assaulted by various perfumes and body odors (and mixes thereof) on all manners of public transportation.

I became accustomed to living without a functional cell phone. I also learned that texting in Russian is, generally speaking, disastrous; and that Internet is not necessary for life, though it certainly helps you when want to find that restaurant your friend told you about. You know, that one with the unlimited dumplings?

I wrote three essays in Russian in three days. I then realized that I had forgotten how to write essays. I also realized that my Senior year at Georgetown is going to be a struggle, but this experience has been completely worth it.

Hopefully, I learned more Russian. I certainly had interesting classes.

In one class, my Russian Civilization professor frankly stated, in English, that he could “blast Smolny” (my university) since that is what he did in the Army. Since the beginning of the semester rumors have circled him like vultures. Some people heard he is an ex-KGB agent or has several ex-wives who now live in Paris. Hard facts are difficult to find, and he is not the sharing type. I do, however, know that he likes huskies with their “big, blue, beautiful eyes that see into your soul” and that he thinks, “Russian people are a hopeless group.”

In Phonetics, I learned how to properly pronounce the Russian language. I memorized impossible tongue twisters and, for about 3 hours a week, made something similar to whale noises.

In Conversation, I talked about everything depressing that has ever occurred or will exist in life, from suicide to orphanages to terrorism to divorces to the economy to natural disasters and the inevitable apocalypse. That being said, I was sad to leave my ex-ballet dancer teacher, and I can say that I am certainly prepared to talk about anything depressing that they throw at me for my proficiency exam.

In Literature, I may not have learned much about actual Russian literature, but I absolutely learned how to BS in Russian, a valuable skill. I also learned rather old school slang from the 1800s. And, of course, I attempted, without much success, to read Dostoyevsky’s Crime and Punishment in its original language.

And Grammar. Well, that class was essentially an adorable little babushka twittering at us like a bird. She was also a great believer of the motivational properties of public humiliation.

Lastly, thanks to my adoptive Russian family. I did not feel a hint of homesickness while I was there. Sorry, parents. I think I am moving to Russia.