Thursday, June 21, 2012

Alcohol and The Russian Tween Scene


Many of you, at least my fellow university chums, are probably wondering what drinking is like in Russia. And if you’re not wondering what it’s like, it’s probably because you’re already picturing rich streams of vodka, in replacement of water, flowing through the city, gushing out of fountains and into the outstretched hands of every thirsting citizen. Hate to break it to you, idealists, but the more realistic image, unfortunately, is mostly just a bunch of empty beer bottles strewn along the sidewalks, which very frequently end up getting kicked around by the absentminded pedestrian, shattering and leaving splinters of broken glass for you to step on in the road. Pretty glamorous, huh?

Well, because of this, and due to the fact that the horror stories from orientation are still too fresh in my mind, I have up to this point been avoiding the drinking scene in Russia. I’m a little embarrassed to admit the fact that I’m actually just too terrified of it all. The fact that a group of students from our group went out last weekend and one guy, as they were leaving a bar, got punched in the head (completely arbitrarily and ended up unconscious for like twelve hours), doesn’t really change my point of view on the situation either.

However, it seems to me like drinking for Russians is like fast food for America; we acknowledge that it’s bad for us, but we go for it anyways, because it’s just such a part of our culture. I’m kind of tired so this might be a terrible analogy, especially to Americans who don’t identify our culture with fast food. But I’ve gotten into so many random conversations with random Russians about fast food since being here, and they just think it’s so interesting. Fast food seems like more of a novelty to them than a place to go for an actual meal. This makes sense, and I think I touched on this earlier, but dining out in Russia is no quick ordeal. It’s expected to be a very social, drawn-out experience. Although they have many fast food restaurants here, I don’t think they view them the same as many American families might.

This is just like how we have a very different approach to drinking than Russians. And this part obviously differs between demographics, since different people definitely drink for different reasons. College students, for instance, tend to drink to get drunk. Most Russians don’t tend to do this to the same extreme. One of the guys in our group was telling me how he was trying to explain a beer bong to his Russian tutor. The concept completely escaped her. Another Russian told me that drinking to get drunk is for homeless people.

Also on a semi-side note, it’s really kind of funny what Russians view as American drinking habits. In our literature class today, for instance, we watched a Russian film from 1962, which was about some hooligan-type Americans in the Wild West who kidnapped this annoying little boy and got ransom money for him. And that’s the entire story. The interesting tidbit, though, was during a brief scene during which the two kidnappers were having lunch. In Russia, it is very typical for men to fill up a large glass with vodka and drink it straight at a meal. They do this even during business lunches, which, according to our American-hating professor, are apparently a whole other plate of cookies and Americans will just never understand them (okwhateverdude). But anyways, this Russian film was trying to portray American life. So during their “business” lunch, these two men in the movie filled their tall glasses up to the brim with whiskey, (which is the All-Americans drink, after all) and just drank it like a Russian would drink a glass of vodka. While this is probably not completely unheard of in the US, it definitely isn’t culturally equivalent.

So while I have so far been a little lame and have avoided bars and clubs for drinking, I haven’t completely refrained from this culturally valued activity. In fact, I like to think my first experience with alcohol in Russia is far more memorable and interesting than any bar fight or wild clubbing adventure anyways. Can anyone guess where this experience may have taken place? Anyone?

Well you guessed wrong. It was at my host sister’s sixteenth birthday party. That’s right, my first time getting somewhat drunk in Russia was at a SIXTEEN YEAR OLD’s birthday party with her [insert adjectives used to describe a tween]-type friends. Oh the hilarity (and tragedy) that ensued.

First, (girls) let’s just try to transport ourselves back to that time period. You know, the days of training bras, baby acne, and head-to-toe body glitter. When the only thing a girl wanted more than to marry a particularly dreamy male pop singer was simply to be accepted by the cool kids. Ah, the good ol’ days of angst and self-involvement. Now picture me, with my twenty-one years of life experience, sitting at this dinner table, surrounded not only by people speaking Russian must faster than I can comprehend, but also by people at this stage of life. What do I have to discuss with these girls? Nothing. What did I pick up from listening to their conversation? Only that they apparently they all have crushes on this guy Andre, who to me just sounds like a straight up hooligan, dining and dashing all the time and apparently not handling his liquor very well.

So as if all this wasn’t already awkward enough, the queen bee of the crew, Julia, showed a very clear dislike for me from the get-go. I kept hearing the word Amerikanka followed by glances and giggles as I just sat there unable to express any kind of thought at the tempo required to stay in the conversation. Even one of the Russian girls in the group seemed to be at a complete loss of words in the presence of this girl. This is all clearly beside the point of whatever point I was even trying to make (at this point I have no idea what I’m even doing anymore other than the fact I need to stop using the word ‘point’)..

The alcohol part of this is probably where I was aiming. So the set-up of the birthday party was just a nice four-course dinner at our house for Vika and her friends. I was forcefully invited to join this event by my host mom (although if I had had the choice I still would have wanted to pig out on all the delicious Russian foods anyways, just maybe without the company). So even though I know that in Russia people love giving toasts for all occasions, I expected that maybe it’d be done with sparkling grape juice or something more suitable for the teen-tween-type age bracket. Much to my surprise, there it was, a big bottle of…tequila? The mixed responses of the girls at the party were just priceless. Julia, of course, was acting all experienced like she’d been lovin on alcohol for years (when in actuality I didn’t see her touch her drink after the toast was made). And then the other girls just scrunched up their faces and continued to dilute their drinks with soda after every minuscule sip. My host mom didn’t want to save the bottle for later, so like she does with all the food we have, she practically forced us to finish it off. So that is how that happened.

And after it happened, I found that Russian words started pouring out of me much easier. I even found some common ground with these girls: Dima Bilan, Russia’s number one pop star, of course. Why I hadn’t thought of it sooner I do not know. But suddenly we were all dancing, singing, and I even got clued in on some of their previous gossip, about which I have been sworn to secrecy (Sorry guys, tweens-honor!). The best part was I got to wow them with my knowing all of the words to the song of the Crocodile Gena, which I was actually disappointed I had to bring up on my own. It is the famous Russian birthday song, after all. You’d expect them to sing it all day long. That’s what I do on my birthday..

But anyways, there you have it. My first experience drinking in Russia. Conventional? Probably not. But since when is anything here conventional?

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