Heather
Worley Living in St. Petersburg, Russia
Vol 2: And the rain
rain rain came down down down...
It all started with a little drop. And then the heavens opened and the floods
came.
Okay, so I'm being a little bit dramatic. But when I woke up yesterday to
the dripping noise, my first thought was, "Dang, I need to put some newspaper
under my jeans so they don't mess up the wood floors." Then I realized
my jeans were hanging up in the kitchen, not my room, so I was annoyed with Nochka
for making noise. Then I realized Nochka was not in my room. So I
found the drop, in the darkest corner of my room, and told my host mom about it.
We put a little chashka for chai (tea cup) under it, and she called the upstairs
neighbors who weren't home. Two hours later, as I was about to leave, Anya
and I heard a whoosh, and the water actually started pouring in through the ceiling.
I rescued my computer, books, and camera, and then we started bailing water into
the bathtub. Natalya finally got hold of the neighbors upstairs, whose apartment
upstairs was just fine, so it was decided the heaters needed to be turned off.
(Heaters in Russia run hot water from the top floor all the way to the bottom
for each room - so all the rooms above and below mine have no heat right now,
although the rest of the apartment does). While this was going on, the water
began running down the lamp hanging in the center of my room, which was causing
the lamp to come on, despite the fact that we'd already turned it off. So
we had to flip the breaker switch. An hour and a half after the downpour
began, it stopped. I was soaked, Anya was soaked, my room was soaked, it
was very dark, there was plaster everywhere, and everything smelled funny, but,
as Natalya put it, at least I was home. If the water had waited even ten
more minutes, I would have been on the way to the zoo with Allison, and Natalya
and Anya would only have discovered the water once it leaked into the front hall,
and then would have had a very difficult time getting into my room without
a key - at which point everything I own would have been ruined.
So I didn't get to see the polar bears, but all in all, it could have been much
worse. I have moved into the bolshaya komnata/gostinaya (living/guest room),
which isn't too bad, but it's kinda cold. Natalya and Evgeny's upstairs
neighbor says he can't afford to help pay, which is bad, because they can't afford
it either...their spare rooms are their main source of income.
So after all this insanity, I managed to find a dry shirt (yes, only
one!) to wear to a party yesterday evening at the apartment of one of Natalya's
students. It was generally good fun, but also involved a lot of weird moments,
such as when I said, "No thanks, I don't take sugar with my tea."
Russians even put sugar in green tea, when they drink it - blasphemy to my
mind. And then I told them that people in America also don't really eat
bliny (sort of like crepes, Russian-style) or zefir (which is Turkish delight,
I think), and that I've never smoked weed, and that I don't smoke cigarettes at
all and have never wanted to, partially because cigarettes are $3-4 a pack in
the US, as opposed to 15 rubles (50 cents) here. They were all horrified.
We decided to play cards, and the game they pick, of course, is Durak - a Russian
card game played with a Russian deck (similar to ours, but the numbers go from
6-10, and then there are four face cards), and with a really confusing set of
rules. I tried to tell them I didn't know how to play, but that didn't seem
to dissuade them one bit. It's sort of like Uno, except that instead of
trying to win, you're trying not to lose. The loser is the durak ("fool").
I never got straight how you know when you're allowed to lay down a card, and
exactly which cards are okay to lay down and which aren't...maybe someday.
The kids were really friendly, but sometimes the questions they ask are really
hard to answer. For instance, one guy asked me if we have a lot of radio
stations in America. I tried to clarify what he meant by a lot, since I
don't know how many they have in SPB. I don't actually even know how many
we have in the OKC area, but I hazard a guess if I knew how many are in SPB, but
he thought I just didn't understand what he was asking. But it could
be worse - one time a girl asked me if I know how to write in Russian...
Every time I talk to a young people in Russia, they ask how much I understand.
I say, in general, a lot, but it's hard because young people use so much slang,
and russki mat. Mat includes obscenities, but is really just "words you
don't use around adults." And this makes an uncommon amount of
sense to them. The use of mat among young people is a very conscious thing.
In fact, when I was talking to Natalya's class, one boy asked how much mat
I knew, and I said very little...he said,"You know, Russian is
really three languages - there's literary, there's conversational, and
then there's mat." And literary is all I've learned, so even conversational
is difficult, and mat is basically over my head.
So anyway, Ira (the hostess) asks me how much I understand, and I replied
that I generally know what people are talking about, even if I don't
know exactly what they're saying. And then I wanted to kick myself,
because I realized just fifteen minutes before she and her boyfriend had been having
a conversation in the room while everyone else was out in the hall smoking
(in the four hours I was there, there was smoke break approximately every
twenty minutes), and I was in the room trying to pretend I didn't understand a
word of what they were saying. Ay.
But all in all, it was really a fun evening. Needless to say, when I got
home at 11:00, Natalya decided to feed me - "just a buterbrod [open-faced
sandwich] and some tea." Which turned into a fried egg, some bread, tomato,
and two oladi (the delicious little pancakes), tea, cookies, sesame candy from
Egypt...you get the picture. And we talked about their plans for the room
formerly known as mine. After the New Year, Evgeny will have three or four
days off in which he can fix things, but he doesn't know whether paint, plaster,
or wallpaper will dry in the cold weather. So until then, I think I'm
in the bolshaya komnata, which will be interesting once our Spanish guest
arrives in two weeks.
So that was Saturday.
***
In other news:
The press is calling the Duma elections unfair and illegal, and claiming
that Putin is trying to acquire even more power...why is this always news to them
and not to the general Russian population?
One thing I really love about Russia is that it's okay to be sick. You can
stay home from school, and no one is indignant that you weren't there. You
were sick! It's good that you stayed home, that way you won't infect everyone
else. Did you drink some hot water mixed with honey and cold vodka?
And you wore your scarf to bed? Good. Because of this attitude, I
still have not caught the flu, despite the fact that there's a huge epidemic right
now.
Friday I went to the Russian Museum (yes, again!) because it was Constitution
Day and school was cancelled. This time I saw The Wave, by Aivazovskii.
He did a lot of really beautiful seascapes. After wandering around for a
while, I decided it was time to go, and in trying to find the exit, walked into
the room with all of Repin's work, so I ended up staying a little longer.
Thursday night Natalya and Evgeny celebrated Constitution Day with a shot of vodka
- "Here's to surviving every government life has sent our way."
Natalya was trying to write a letter to a friend who just moved, and asked me
if in English we have anything like a domovoi, which in Russian legends is a friendly
ghost-like being who lives behind the stove (where it's warm) and makes sure nothing
bad happens to the house. When Russians move, you have to make sure to take
the domovoi with you, or else he'll get mad and then bad things happen.
The only house-ghosts I could think of were poltergeists, so I said no, but she
could say she hoped her friend's guardian angel would be watching over her.
That seemed to work. A rather weird cross-cultural moment. In moments
like these, I feel like Saint Petersburg, and Russia in general, is really
just a bunch of peasants who happen to live in an urban environment in the 21st
century - old beliefs are still around, and families are still very traditional.
Natalya also asked me something about German Christmas, and I said I didn't know.
She said, "But it's the same as yours." Which it's not...but I suppose
if you don't really celebrate Christmas, they all sort of seem the same to you.
Because Christmas is a strictly religious holiday in Russia, and because most
Russians are atheist, New Year's is really their "Christmas." In fact,
they even have New Year's trees and exchange presents on New Year's. But
it's still not Christmas. I'm really sad that right now everyone at home
is making cookies and singing carols and going to company parties, etc. etc.,
and I'm in country in which December 25th is a working day. But at
least there are lights up all over town, and I can pretend they're Christmas lights,
instead of New Year's lights.
***
For everyone who doesn't know, my little sister is engaged!!! Congratulations
to Scott and Lauren on their engagement, and also to Scott on his graduation and
birthday!
***
Well, that's all the news for this week. Till next time -
Heather:)
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Men'she znaesh', luchshe spish'. The less you know, the better you sleep.
Next Story: Being sick