(note: blog written June 8. still figuring out this whole internet thing)
So after about two days of orientation in DC we finally set
off for Russia on Thursday. Pretty freaked out after all the horror stories we
were told, I was actually kind of looking forward to the fact that I’d have a
ten hour plane ride to mentally prepare myself for it all. That sentiment went
out the window when our already two and a half hour airport wait turned into
about a six hour wait followed by another hour wait once we were already
boarded. And then there was some kind of mysterious medical emergency once we
were in the air, and people were freakin out because the airplane ran out of
orange juice. Of all tragedies. Conclusion: I hate travelling.
But after all that we got out of the airport we boarded an old-school
tour bus and set off for the university. For these first two nights in Moscow
we are staying in the dormitory, which is making out to be an interesting
experience. For one, there are three of us in one tiny room and I kid you not,
our tiny twin beds are about five inches apart. So typical Russia. Also, only one key exists for
the dorm room and no one is allowed to leave the building with it; the last one
leaving for the day has to check the key in with a lady at the front desk. When
you return, you have to check to see if the key is at the desk or already taken
upstairs. Also, much unlike my experiences in American dormitories, there is a
security guard who checks your ‘propusk’ or pass before you can get to the
elevators. Which are abnormally tiny.And if you accidentally press the P floor you come face to face with a brick wall and pitch blackness. Scary. While I’m glad we have some adjustment
time to Russian amenities, I am very glad I chose the host family option.
Tonight, as our first night in the big city, we were shown
where to exchange money and pointed towards some nearby restaurants. Then we were
given time to explore on our own. My first experience exchanging money was just
awkward, as had been expected. I walked straight up to the wrong guy and
basically tried handing him my money. He stared at me for a while, waiting for
me to say something, and I immediately forgot what I wanted to say so I
squeaked out some jumble of sounds and he just grumbles that I’m at the wrong
desk. The rest of the interaction was pretty much a silent one, but I got my
rubles and booked it out of there.
After this, we realized just how hungry we were and somehow
managed to find a place, sit down there, and order a meal. I can’t even tell
you how much I had been looking forward to unlimited amounts of borsht this
summer. So needless to say, that is exactly what I ordered for my first meal in
Russia. And it was delicious. The Russian restaurant experience is definitely
different than the American style of dining. First, I was surprised when we
walked in and they asked me a question I hadn’t heard in a very long time: “would
you like a smoking or non-smoking table?” I should have expected this, seeing
as everyone in Russia smokes, but I have to admit it surprised me a bit. And
then after we were done eating we just sat at the table staring at each other.
Eating out in Russia is a leisurely experience; waiters don’t try to rush you
out as they do in the U.S. When you want to leave, you need to ask for the
check. At least this is the vibe I’m getting. I still have a lot to learn about
restaurants in Russia.
Last on our to-do list was to buy some water. Water is one
of the most basic human needs so you would expect it to be a basic purchase
right? Wrong. Of course in Russia it is never so simple as to ask for a bottle
of water. What brand? What size? With gas or without (carbonated)? And these
interactions take place typically at kiosks on the streets, where you need the
person behind the window to get you what you need. If you can’t explain it, you
can’t buy it. I’m sure I will be having some interesting stories with these
things soon.
After we each bought our two-liter bottles of water, the
jetlag loopy feeling started sinking in. Unable to hold it in, we began laughing hysterically about how
awkward it was to walk down a crowded street filled with Muscovites all dressed
to the nines with not only our giant water bottles, but our disheveled,
distressed appearances gifted to us by the long day of travel. We definitely
stood out as Americans, but straightened ourselves up enough to make it past
the politsia without questioning. Success.
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