On the Road Again
I completed my contract last week so I decided to continue my European tour. I had planned on going back in August so I stored some of my stuff with friends and set off. After leaving Russia, I'm now having to remind myself of why I want to live there. I must be crazy.
A few days in St. Petersburg showed me some beautiful architecture, historical sites, long queues, food poisoning, and the worst customer service you could ever imagine. Visually, St. Pete's is more appealing than Moscow and one would think I'd be used to the poor customer service, but I think I just had enough of it. I couldn't wait to leave Russia. I have to admit though that this is one hell of a fountain. Peterhoff, former summer palace of Peter the Great, has hundreds of impressive fountains and gardens. Lovely indeed. This one leads out to the Gulf of Finland. Not enough to keep me in Russia, though. I took the fastest train out of the country with an overnight stop in Helsinki which confirmed I was back in civilization as I once knew it.
I'm in Estonia now and trying to forget that I'm missing yet another family wedding. I think I'll do something really crazy like rent a car. Stay tuned!
Moscow Metro
I finally got around to taking a few photos of the infamous Moscow Underground. The first one is from a couple nights ago at 1:30 a.m.. That's why you can't see people, although right after I took this a guy got off the train and threw up. Common downside of the metro.Each station is unique and some are quite beautiful. There are actually metro tours of the 'socialist realism' art... red stars everywhere. California Mike made it his goal to see each and every station, although I can't understand how he can possibly spend even more time underground. I live in Meadvedkova, in the North East (top of the orange line). I've spent about the same traveling on the trains as I have physically teaching these past seven months.
Over 8 million people per day are said to use this system and it sometimes feels like you're all packed on one train. It can get pretty hot and uncomfortable, but there's no better place in the world for people watching. Although, I could do without the make-out sessions. It's like the liberal 70's just hit Moscow and everyone's 'doin' it' everywhere... in crude fashion. Besides that, it seems to be a pretty efficient system. They have little ladies in grey pencil skirts and hats, carrying little red signs and blowing their whistles when guys are passed out and won't get out at the last stop. Because I live at a 'last stop' I see it every night. They often stumble across the aisle to the train going the opposite way. If they can't walk, the little lady gets help and they drag him off onto the platform.
God bless these transit workers. They have a lot to deal with and are able to keep these trains a runnin'. (who sang that? Johnny Cash?)
The Dacha
One thing that all of my students have in common is that they all have dachas. They go almost every weekend in the summer to their country homes, what I call a 'cabin' or a 'cottage'. Some retired folk live in them year round, if they're lucky enough to have heat and running water. This past weekend my former student, Elmira, took me and Emma to her family's dacha. We were treated like royalty by her parents.
Their house is modest but the yard is quite big - 6 Sotok (600x800m) , with lovely plants and veggies... tomatoes, cucumbers, potatoes, and a greenhouse for herbs.
They know most of their neighbors. However, some, which have changed ownership, now contain mansions with giant fences. They're avoided due to 'suspicious activities'.
Elmira's sister, Gulia, is barbecuing sausages. Yummy! Dacha's have been around for the select few since the 1700's, but in Soviet time an important duty of trade unions was to obtain the land for the dachas and distribute it among the members of the union in order for people to grow their own food. Since everyone then was a member of one or another trade union, every family had a chance to get the land. It was federal land until sometime after the collapse of the soviet union when it was offically signed over to the people. Now tens of millions of Russians, some who can barely afford to survive, are landowners. Elmira's father, a Tatar, was so excited to have 'foreigners' visiting. He used to work for the ministry and said it's been a very long time since he had foreigners in his house. Elmira said he could only speak Russian, but, as the day progressed, there were more and more English words, perfectly pronunciated, mixed into his Russian.
Luckily, Emma can speak Russian so there wasn't the pressure of socialising with gestures... like an 'English' lesson. However, Elmira was constantly translating to ensure I didn't feel left out.. or maybe to practice her English.This area has recently become a village, but there is still a lot of green space and a little river running through this park.
There were people having picnics, playing football, or just walking around the apple trees, like we were.
We came across the goat lady, reportedly a constant figure in this park. Her friend asked us for money when he saw I was taking photos but we pretended he was joking. We stopped at the natural spring for some 'holy water'. It was wonderful being around nature again and away from the crazy city. In fact, it was very much like being in a small Canadian town or at a cabin. The biggest difference, aside from the goat lady, is the reverence felt by the Russians about their country homes. They don't take them for granted.
Dachas are definitely not cabins... they are part of their culture. I hope they can sustain the test of time.