This Sunday is International Women's Day. It's actually a very big deal here. We got a day off school on Monday, even, so I'm going to spend a night in Moscow with a few people. I'm not even sure what we're doing, but I do know I want to visit the big cemetery where famous people are buried. I think it's Novodevichy Cemetery. Eisenstein, Chekhov, Bulgakov, Gogol, Krushchev, Prokofiev... the list goes on. 

And on Friday our planned excursion as a group is a day-trip to a nearby town called Suzdal. 

Send me a package/letter! I suddenly realized today how badly I want them. Shipping is expensive, so only if you can. But if you can and want to, please do! Here's the address:

600006 Vladimir

Tsentr Russistiki KORA

Ul. Vorovskogo, d. 14

Laurie Spector

RUSSIA

I will say that I am listening to the album "Chelsea Girl" by Nico for the first time and it is just beautiful. Highly recommended. No one comes here for music suggestions but I can't help myself.

Alla, what am I going to do with you? Last night I arrived home to have Alla tell me she cleaned out my backpack because she had knocked it over while cleaning my room and everything spilled out. Not to call Alla a liar but, to be perfectly blunt, I don't believe her. I'm not upset. I think she's hilarious. But at least it's good to know that literally nothing I own is safe anymore. Goodbye privacy. She did write me a note the other day that began with "Laurie, my sweet". She obviously cares a great deal for me and if she's curious enough to take some liberties with my personal possessions, so be it. I'm living in her house for Christ's sake. And it's not like I have anything to hide.

There are local government elections today in Vladimir. Alla won't be home all day because she's working at the polls. A girl slept on our couch last night, but I'm still not clear on who actually she is. She left early this morning. I think her name is Zhenya. I guess it's not that important. 

I was approached by some Jehovah's Witnesses while walking down Ulitsa Mira yesterday. Honestly it was pretty neat. The men said hello and that they wanted to show me or tell me about something. Then they pulled out their literature and I saw the word "Jehovah", so I told them I was interested but I don't really speak Russian well. They took out a book with a little message in several languages and flipped to the English page, and I was completely amused by this. I know exactly how to deal with this type of situation in America but it was a little more delicate trying to explain in Russian, because they kept doing that thing where they want to get your contact information so they can hunt you down. I said "this is not my religion" and the man, even a bit irritated, explained that they weren't trying to convert me, just inform me. So I asked for a website and this seemed good enough to satisfy them, but really it was a very pleasant experience and... funny. 

I forgot to mention we accidentally came across a synagogue while in Moscow that second time. I walked right past it but the others saw and called me over. It was really amazing, actually, because I keep meaning to find the Vladimir synagogue but I haven't done it yet. It definitely reignited my interest, though, and it made me homesick only a little. I bought a Russian-Hebrew dictionary from the gift shop, though in retrospect I think I could've gotten a better souvenir. 

This is frustrating, it really is getting harder and harder to write even though I'm getting better stories. I'm sorry if I'm writing less often but I'll try to get back into the swing of things.

Today, for no reason whatsoever, Alla left me a note on the breakfast table. I will do my best at translating it:

"Laurie - my friend,

Heat the blintzes and sausage in the microwave. Drink the tea. Bon appetit. I will be home at 7:30 tonight. Until then, bye!"

I'm not sure why she did this, because we've gone through the morning breakfast ritual every day for the last month and I've done just fine up until this point without the luxury of notes. But her affection for me seems to be increasing. She keeps pressing me to play the guitar for her and I keep saying I'm shy. But then she said I'm like her daughter, and I shouldn't be shy. Also recently, I was going out of the house and had just taken a shower, so my hair was a bit wet. She insisted that I blow dry it and, while I was trying, she took the blow dryer away from me and started doing my hair. Not even drying it, she started curling it up and styling it. She was laughing, I was laughing, it was... such a sweet moment. My dear friend Alla.

Our day trip to Moscow was very easy. The train is fast and comfortable, and we have just enough time to do something of interest in Moscow and be back home for dinner. It's a full day but not nearly as exhausting as the Chinatown bus from DC to NYC. The main event was eating lunch at T.G.I Friday's. I got a chicken sandwich and some lame tropical mixed drink. The buffalo wing appetizer was, in all honesty, probably the best part. But being there, with the American-sized portions, American food, American service, it didn't do much for me. I guess I never liked that aspect of America to begin with so I didn't miss it. But it was amusing and interesting to experience it nonetheless. Russian service with a smile? When one of the employees shouted goodbye (in Russian) on our way out, the first thought to cross my mind was immediately "what the hell? Why is she saying goodbye to me?" It just seemed pointless and strange. Surprisingly, I don't miss that American politeness. It's just not practical. It's not... efficient. Why say something you don't mean? I reserve my smiles for when I'm actually happy. I could talk more about this, but I'll do that later.

Finally, I have some pictures. Click on any picture to see a bigger version.

A funny sign for a restaurant in Moscow called "Sorry Babushka". (babushka means grandma)

My friend Madelyn on the train ride home from Moscow.

This was on the first trip to Moscow with our entire group. These three girls are my entire class: Sarah, Madelyn and Kelsey in front of St. Basil's Cathedral on Red Square.

A typical breakfast, laid out for me on the table every morning when I wake up. There's kasha at the bottom, kind of like sweet oatmeal. Blini, which is just blintzes, and some meat. And tea of course. Tea with every meal.

We were on the Moscow metro. The trip a few weeks ago. Everyone was tired. From left to right, random Russian, Meagan, Faye, Reese, random Russian. But EVERYONE is sleeping.

Here's a picture of a picture of Alla and her husband, presumably many years ago.

A Russian Starbucks on the Old Arbat street in Moscow. There were actually several.

Here is Alla and her youngest son, Kostya. I took this picture in the kitchen.

Okay, here's a random picture I stole from someone else in the meantime. I'm posting it because I took it, but I'm not actually in it. Pictured from left to right is Kimberly, Faye, Madelyn and Chelsea. We were on Red Square in Moscow, in front of St. Basil's Cathedral. Just gives you an idea.

I'm kind of trying to work on getting some pictures up here. Part of the problem is that I've taken very few since I've been here. Maybe a dozen? But the one picture I'm very eager to post is of Alla and her younger son, Kostya. Otherwise, I don't know, part of not feeling like a tourist here involves not really feeling the urge to take pictures. I guess I'll have to force myself eventually.

So, what is there to say. Yesterday I saw a performance of Nikolai Gogol's "The Government Inspector". It's a play. I didn't understand the action at all. At intermission my friends explained the general plot, but I couldn't help zoning out during the second half and didn't really follow the rest. I did truly enjoy it though. I genuinely like theater at least partly due to the experience itself, watching the actors, the atmosphere. And it makes me really want to see the play performed in English. We got tickets to see ballet next Saturday, which will be nice because of the absence of language. Same goes for music. Tonight I might be going to a hookah bar and tomorrow I'm taking a day-trip to Moscow. I guess the primary goal of the visit is to find American food that people are craving, namely buffalo wings and McDonalds. I think we're going to find a TGI Friday's. Honestly I haven't craved ANY food since I've gotten here but I like Moscow and would be happy just to be back there for a small adventure. 

An interesting event on the bus: I was going home one day on trolley #10. The bus was pretty crowded. I'd always noticed on buses that people never get up for other people.. in other words if there's an elderly person and all the seats are occupied, no one gives up their seat. No one expects it either. It's just the way things are. It made me slightly uncomfortable at first but honestly I've always felt somewhat awkward on the bus, so I just decided to play along. But today, for some reason, I just couldn't take it anymore. The bus was very crowded and I watched as the smallest little woman, leaning on a cane, boarded the bus and took her position standing next to me while I sat. I became so uncomfortable I decided to stand up, but suddenly a woman behind me started saying something. Honestly I couldn't understand, but I did make out that she was telling me to sit back down. The woman on the cane made no motion to take my seat, and honestly I have no idea what happened expect for that my offer was not well received. But days after the event, I still find myself thinking a lot about it, curious. The woman who told me to sit down was not with the cane lady. I thought so at first but later realized they didn't know each other. What did the cane lady feel when I offered the seat? Did she want it or not? Is it pride or is she just accustomed to standing? Does anyone ever offer up their seat in Russia? I'm kind of sick of seeing older women being forced to stand on the buses, especially because these buses drive so erratically. The ride is not smooth and it can be tough to hang on at times. This, I guess, is what I was talking about before. People here expect less comfort, whereas I'm used to the people at home expecting to be catered to. Patches of ice at home are viewed as serious hazards whereas here... they just deal with it. I kind of love that. But there's still so much I don't know or understand about everyday life here. I make my assumptions and judgements based on observation but not really discourse, so they're definitely not complete or even correct. I have much more contact with Americans than Russians at the moment, but that's my choice. I'd like to get more used to life here before reaching out. I guess. Or maybe it's just laziness. 

I'm not sure that my Russian has improved much since I've gotten here, only that I'm more used to speaking in Russian. And in that sense it's easier, but this may be merely psychological. I'm so used to communication being difficult that I think going home will be very strange. Just, everything being so easy all of a sudden. To say whatever I need to say. As if I didn't already know how important communication with other people is... I guess it's also a good sign that I couldn't care less about how much I stand out now. At the beginning, I'm not sure how hard I tried to blend in, but I guess I cared more. At this point, I don't try and I don't care. I bought black nail polish. I'm acting more myself. 

A speaker from this program at orientation said something I've thought about constantly the entire time I've been here: traveling gives you the opportunity to discover yourself in a new context. Here I am, in a new place with new people, so what parts of myself have remained and which parts have evolved? I've been both pleased with and disappointed with the aspects of myself that have stayed. But at least I know myself a little better. That knowledge is worth a lot to me. I know more what I'm capable of and what my limits are. I know a little more of what I want out of life and, at the same time, a little less. Well, a lot less. Whatever.