Visit to Kiev

I was riding on the metro the other day, heading home from work, playing Bobby Carrot, a Samsung cell phone game of dubious quality that I have beaten near 5 or 6 times. Still, I never get tired of helping Bobby find his way through mazes of doom and disaster to satisfy his rather limited life goal of eating carrots. It’s soothing.

Plus, it’s either that or I study logic games. I had decided to chill with Bobby the Rabbit instead of the sinister LSAT writers because the logic problem next on my list started with the following:

“Four students, Faith, Alison, Ingrid, and Lisa were each to take a test in June.”

I, following the general pattern of logic games, defined all the variables (F, A, I, L), then reread the part about taking a test in June. I shuddered, dropped the pen, and decided to waste my time with a rabbit instead. Starting anything with FAIL, even in acronymic form, is not my idea of positive reinforcement.

Bobby Carrot makes me feel like a winner.

I spend quite a few hours a day in the metro, as I’ve mentioned previously. While recently taking a ride with some friends, I said something like, “Wow, Moscow really is beautiful in some areas.” The guy driving said, “Well, yeah, what did you think it looked like?” My answer: “Uh, torn leather seats, dirty windows, and graffiti.” That’s the impression you get from riding in the metro all day long. There are quite a few beautiful metro stations, of course, but the experience of traveling above ground and traveling below it are quite different.

And, clearly, traveling outside Moscow presents you with yet another alternate view of the city. In April, Fabian, who is one of my coworkers, and I visited Kiev, Ukraine, in order to renew our visas. Leaving the country to get a visa into the same country is actually more logical than you might expect; Russia has a 90-day limit for foreigners who are traveling on our type of visa, so it was necessary to leave in order to come back in. The following are pictures from the trip to Kiev.

My speech patterns have settled into teacher mode, probably for the long term. The inflection, speed, and words that I choose while speaking are now set at Intermediate-High English. I don’t think it’s a bad thing - I’m undoubtedly a lot more intentional about what I say and perhaps a bit clearer. Actually, I bet I speak faster in Russian now then I do in English. The change in speech speed is very distinct, almost to the point of hilarity. I quite enjoy the trust and confidence that my students have in my Russian ability. When we speak English, it’s something like this:

“Chris... what do you think... is the best... hamburger at... McDonald’s?” - generic Russian friend.

“Well, I think that... it’s probably the Big and Tasty... because it’s so... big. And... tasty.” - me.

And in that same conversation, a friend will switch into Russian at a BLISTERING speed, assuming, although their English may be better than my Russian, that I somehow understand.

“Is it... as... [switch to Russian] as-big-and-tasty-as-the-burgers-that-you-have-in-the-United-States-because-I-heard-that-some-things-here-aren’t-like-the-real-thing-that-you-have-in-the-States. [switch to English] Is... that true?”

I think I should just put up a sign that warns people in advance. Yes, we are speaking English at a slower-than-native pace. No, it’s not a reflection of your intelligence. Yes, I am trying to give you the time to formulate your thoughts, to not rush you. Yes, if we switch to Russian you don't need to speed up to cover any English deficiencies.

Maybe I could wear a t-shirt with something to that effect.

This is not true across the board, however. Many of my students have astounding vocabularies and speak completely fluidly. The funny situations result from the small “brain farts” that they have occasionally. My favorite mistake to date has been made a couple times by an upper-level student. She sees the word “ahead” and somehow switches the “h” to an “sh” which causes me to start, as I visualize blueprints and tools when she mentions “planning a shed.” Or one of my students talked about “inculcating a feeling of happy” - basically a 10-point word combined with a minor stylistic error. Those make me laugh a bit inside. Sometimes outside, though I prefer to hide the humor of the situation. Even today, I heard another one that made me genuinely laugh. My student mentioned that, when tidying up the bathroom, she really hates "cleaning the miracle." I can't tell you how dirty my miracles get in Russia. Mirrors too.

I feel like I talk more about the metro than about anything else. But let me share one more story with you, then I promise I’ll be quiet for a while about it. In order to get down to the metro, you must take a escalator. They go pretty deep, but I try to climb up and down instead of just riding. The largest amount of steps I’ve managed to climb up before reaching the end is somewhere around 320. That’s with the escalator moving, so it’s clearly quite a few floors.

Anyhow, on the way up, I generally look at the ground in order not to trip, so you see quite a few feet (or rather, feet in shoes). Some people stand on one step, and some people keep one foot on one step, the other foot on higher step. While this isn’t comfortable for me, I understand the desire for stability. What I don’t understand is the people who straddle two stairs, who have one foot on stair 1 and one foot on stair 3 or even 4. I saw one girl who was practically kissing her knee, riding up the escalator. Can someone help me understand the desire for the Captain Morgan pose? What’s to gain? No one is tying any shoes or doing yoga or posing for model shoots... You should try it at home: put one foot on the ground, then put one foot on your kitchen counter while you're preparing a salad. That’s about the height difference I’m talking about. I’ll leave you with that thought. How many stairs do you normally straddle on the way up the escalator? Why? Discuss.

So it's still snowing...

Note:  all of the photos were taken with a cell phone.  Forgive the poor quality.

My sister has a student whose father is spending some time in Russia; we figured that the student would be curious how Moscow looks during the year.  It'll probably be beautiful soon, but for now it's pretty grey, wet, and dirty.  The following is a shot from the back window of a shopping mall.  It looks out onto a relatively open part of the city.

And here's the same window, but looking the other way.  Not that interesting, huh?  But it's the best skyline that I can give you for now.  I'll try and get higher soon.  Actually, about three days ago, I tried taking some pictures out of a high-rise building that I work in now because I wanted that Moscow skyline.  I was tackled by a stapler-wielding secretary who was screaming about privacy issues and maybe even something about Russian borsch.  I don't remember exactly, but I still have two staples in my arm...

 

I'm really curious who makes these playground kits.  I can see the advertising slogan in my mind...

"Turn abandoned factory steel tubing into fun for your kids!  Call now, and you'll receive a limited-edition copy of "How to make your playground stand out amidst the other 6,000,000 steel-pipe playgrounds in Moscow!" and our pamphlet, "Starting Smoking Young: Keys to Cancer Success." Act quickly!"

This was my street behind the old apartment.

And this was the insulation that workers were tearing down from inside the building somewhere.  I don't think it's asbestos... I did some research on it, and this stuff didn't quite have the "fibre" look to it.  Honestly, though, most of the asbestos photos look pretty normal to me.  Any ideas what this is?

Here's the new insulation they were using on the building.  They covered it later with a different, harder surface material.  Later, they'll cover that with a thin coat of Russian pessimism, determination, and a bit of spit.

I tried to get a picture of a park on one of the sunny days in Moscow.  I only wish this photo communicated the joy I was feeling at receiving Vitamin D and seeing blue.

The following picture is some famous author.  Probably.  As far as I remember, his name is Block.  I accidentally cut off part of his head in the pic because I was startled by some kids snickering behind me.  Apparently no one takes Block's picture.

The next one is the street that my office is on.  Some fairly interesting-looking buildings are nearby, but I haven't explored them yet. 

In the next shot, you can tell that this picture wasn't taken during rush hour (7am to 9am, 4pm - 6pm) and, most probably, was taken very late at night.  Normally, there is a huge crowd of people waiting to get on the metro.  

I actually got shoved a little bit while I was waiting for the next train and I thought to myself, what would happen if I fell on the track directly in front of a train?  So for about 30 minutes that day, I entertained visions in my head of gruesome deaths:  Chris splattered on the metro window, Chris cut into pieces on the ground, Chris almost getting up back onto the track only to be pulverized by a train at the very last second... but I also spent some time thinking about saving myself.  So, take a look at the photo, right between the rails.  You see that depression?  Definitely big enough for a person, and the train stays above it.

If you fall into the metro in Moscow, and you can't get out in time, lie down between the rails.  Death shall pass over, people shall board, and thou willst have one more chance to climb back up to the platform when it departs.

Feel free to click here to see a crazy example of foot traffic in the metro system.  This example is probably taken after a concert, but the normal amount of people in the metro isn't too far off.

This was the first Moscow sunset I saw.  I'm in a north moscow suburb, on my way to work.

You can get a feel for what most streets look like: the architecture lining them, the amount of traffic...  They even have a site that monitors each street and route times so that you can plan driving to work.  Actually, I can walk from the metro station to my apartment faster than a bus can drive there.  Going TO the metro is a different story, but still.

This next picture is for Forrest.  Our office is opposite this building, and I wish I could tell you exactly what it was.  All I know is that it has a gigantic menorah in the window and that people call it the "Jewish Building."  And lots of people go there.

Also, I had one question.  There was an older guy in the building who was talking with some younger people, and he had some sort of bright green wig and this long robe on.  Can anyone think of a Jewish holiday or festival or something that would involve a 50-something-year-old guy to wear such a get-up?

Two things about this.  Snickers recently started using their own language (see the NYtimes article) and I'm not sure what I think about it.  Secondly, it's already in Moscow.

Translation:  "If you don't catch up, you're going to be hungry."  (the picture is some wolf thing chasing a man on a steel horse who's holding a Snickers bar).  Then at the bottom, it says, "Don't hesitate - Snickers!"  Only here, they made Snickers into a verb.  So maybe it'd be like Snickerize!  Either way, I'm seeing a lame picture followed by an even lamer tagline, unless someone can explain to me the significance of the steel horse.

8 March.  Women's Day.  The day when men take up the responsibilities of the women, give them flowers, and try to make up for the other 364 days of inequality.

I love that this gigantic housing and business park is done in pink.  Really, you couldn't even say, "Dude, yeah, I live in the huge pink building on the corner - super easy to find" because every building is huge and pink.  They even changed the red part of traffic lights to a pink hue.

I think this is Leningradskii Prospekt.  Maybe.

The famous МГУ!  The Moscow State University building.  In America, we build campuses out.  In Moscow, they build them up.

We went to go see the "Eastern World Cup of Snowboarding" put on near the university.  It was a great show until it started snowing like crazy.  It was really cold, but they were selling a version of Red Bull with hot tea and cinnamon or something.  Not bad, though a small 0.3 litre cup was 4 bucks.

Sven, you should know that one of the major electronics brands sold here is called Sven.  It's a pretty crappy company, as far as I can tell.  But expensive.  Big speakers, though, as I recall.  Really big.

"Svetlana! What did I tell you about smoking in the car!"

"You were the one spilling vodka on the seats, Sergei.  Back off."

"This is not a door."  You sure?

Touring the apartment, part 1

I've moved in!  We're having a welcoming party tonight to celebrate our new place, and we'll have Russians, Italians, Brits, Americans, and a Maltese friend.  Almost international, right?

peas

On a site similar to facebook, but more set up for international communities, one of my Russian friends posted this:

Dreams:      CAN FLY, PEAS IN ALL THE WORLD.

I also love this seed pod of the legume Pisum Sativum.  Who knew it was considered, according to botanists, to be a fruit?  In any case, share it with the world.

Parks, Anti-anti-semitism, and my addiction to pel'meni

I took some photos when I was walking to the metro station the other day.  I thought it might give you a glimpse of what my suburb, Kuzminki, looks like.  First of all, there's sort of a park wedged between a couple of apartment buildings.  I guess everything is wedged between buildings, but it depends on your perspective to decide who is wedging whom.

This next picture gets me laughing every time I see it.  Before, there used to be a bunch of hate speech on the side of this garage.  Thankfully, the graffiti crusaders against hate speech rose up against it.  Just the fact that someone wrote "Nazi Scum" in English over the swastikas and other comments is hilarious.  I have no idea where they learned it, and I'm not sure it's completely the right approach to opening a dialogue on how to stop the disparagement of racial and social groups, but I applaud you, Anonymous Graffiti Person, wherever you may be.

I haven't had a need for a huge quantity of meat yet, but when I do, you can bet that I'll be visiting this guy.  It's probably a bit easier to be mobile as a meat vendor when the entire city is your refrigerator.  He packs it up after a couple hours, and drives off to a new spot.  If you go looking for him, keep an eye out for anti-anti-Semitism grafitti art, and you'll find him.

All those of you practicing how to read Cyrillic letters, here's your chance.  There's some English mixed in, but how many companies can you decipher?  This is at Ashan City, a mall located in the far northwest suburbs of Moskva.  

Confusingly enough, the food at this mall is ten times cheaper than the food at the cafe inside the large construction store across the street.  I wanted to save some money, so I went to what I thought would be a cheap mom&pop place close to the office where I hold some classes.  Last time, I got 2 hotbogs (no buns), a piece of bread, friend potatoes and tea.  For 8 bucks.  I'm going to Sbarro next time; there, it's a buck for a slice.  I have to ask my tutor how to order pizza, though.  I tried to do that today, and failed miserably.  The word for a slice of pizza is not, regrettably, the same word as for a slice of pie.  I'll let you know...

When I'm not paying exorbitant amounts of cash to eat day old bread, I love to make this next food: pel'meni.  I don't think anyone could live happily in Russia without it.  The first bag of pel'meni that I bought tasted a bit like what I would imagine dogmeat to taste like, but this new brand is top notch.  

It's simple, too.  Just boil up some water, dump them in, stir, and wait till they start floating.  Slop on some mayonnaise, and call it good.

  

To learn how to potentially save the world one pasta bowl at a time, please click here.

For some extra flair, you could add some sauce.  I wanted to call this Pel'meni Bolognese, but it turns out bolognese sauce has to have meat.  Pesto sauce comes from the word "to pound" (as in pounding basil leaves) and I'm not doing any of that, so pesto pel'mini is out, however pleasing to the ear it may be.  Alfredo di Lello got to invent his own sauce, so I could call it Van Fossen sauce.  Unless someone else out there is sauteing onion, garlic, tomatoes, and mayonnaise.  Stranger things have happened.

My mom was asking about sending packages through the Russian postal system.  I haven't had the heart to tell her yet, but last week the Russian postal system broke.  There's probably a better way to say that, but that's what the office people at Cargill were lamenting last week.  A manager wanted her secretary to mail a package to Ekaterinburg, but couldn't because "the post broke."  Her response was the same as mine: "That's not possible."  But apparently it is.  Packages just weren't delivered in the city for a number of days.

Tune in next week for "How I Broke My Sanity on the Metro Elevators."