Old news...

I typed this up a few days ago, but troubles with technology through a wrench in my spokes... more to come when I have the time to jot it down!

Phew,

Thursday was a victory for me. By Wednesday night I had been getting pretty depressed about not knowing anybody, about not being able to speak Russian as well as I would like, about the internet cafй’s having huge lines and hoards of game addicts, and most of all, about the prospect of spending my birthday alone in a foreign country. I had never really thought about what it means to have all your friends with you for your birthday, but now I’m realizing it’s something I really took for granted.

Anyway, today started and ended on a series of good notes. First, I found a bike store and was told that I might find a cheap used bike on the internet. We’ll see about. Then, I finally found the mega-store “Fud-Siti”, which has everything your average American needs to feel at ease (almost). I got some slippers, a rope to hang my laundry on, and something I have been searching for ever since I first tried it last January: a pomegranate. I’m going to save it for my birthday.

Anyway, I came home and napped, woke up, and set off to take my Russian placement test. On the way I found a clothing store that actually sold things at somewhat decent prices (usually, prices here are absolutely outrageous). I’m going to go back for some sweaters and a jacket. I took the test with some German “specialists” and a nice assortment of other foreigners (French, maybe?). I was happy to find that it was a multiple choice test at a low-intermediate level, so I finished it in about 20 minutes, tried to leave, was instructed to sit back down for a reading test, took that, and then proceeded to the oral section. This turned out to be about 4 questions (where are you from, etc), and then I was told I was “free”. Overall, I’m glad to see my education from Kenyon is at least good for taking entrance tests, if nothing else.

Later, Svetlana introduced me to our boss, who seems really young and has a habit of saying “yes?”. After proctoring a test to some girl who wanted to learn English in order to study in Prague, Svetlana suggested showing me the “Lagernyi Sad”, which might translate to “Camp Garden”, but which is actually a gorgeous forest/WW II memorial. On the other side of the forest is one of the most incredible views I’ve ever seen. I’ve heard that the city just drops off into wilderness, but this was ridiculous. There’s a practically panoramic view of the river and surrounding country side. You can see for miles and miles. It’s so still that it looks exactly like a life-size landscape portrait. I’ll get a picture to put up here.

Anyway, I came home in a good mood, met a Vietnamese boy in the kitchen, and on my way back, finally met my Russian neighbors. This is my major victory, as I’ve spent the last few nights in my room, listening to their loud gallivanting a carrying-on, desperately lonely and craving any sort of social interacting. They invited me in, and we talked a bunch, in English and in Russian. They answered the enormous list of questions I had about the mysterious goings-on at the dorm, and even told me that there was a decent and super-cheap cafeteria that I should definitely be going to. Also, there’s a ladder to climb onto the second-story balcony. If you don’t know why this is important, than you must not know that there is a 12 am curfew in most Russian dorms.

So we talked a bunch, and eventually it came up that they were all desperately studying to pass this big English exam they all have next Wednesday. They all study at the university of oil or something. Basically, they’re all planning to be rich oil men. I helped them translate 20 wacky Russian sentences about oil, vapor injections, and 3-D modeling into decent English, and realized what a huge task it is going to be to explain a lot of things to my students, especially articles, which seem to be the universal blight of all Russian students. I joked with one guy who was having trouble, that anywhere he sees some open space, he should insert a “the” just to be safe. This reminds me, apparently I’m going to have introductory and intermediate students instead of advanced. It’ll be a fun adventure but not quite as easy as what was already not going to be easy.

All in all, it was a day of small personal break-throughs that amounted to me not having a large break-down. It was also nice to get a couple of calls from Jackie, my parents, and my brother, who’s just arrived to college. So I’ll get by for the time being, even if getting by means eating my birthday pomegranate in the dorm and day-dreaming about landing myself a bicycle.

Tchuss!
Jason

P.S. I might get to brush up on some German with the specialists. Their English, like every German with whom I’ve spoken English, is impeccable. How do they do it?

Abuh?

I typed something for you all and put it on my Flash Drive, but it seems to have disappeared, so I'm going to try to find it when I get home. Eeks! The theme of the post was having a great day, so you can try to imagine what that might entail until I tell you.

Missed you all on my birthday!
Jason

From Tomsk

Well I made it in on Sunday. Svetlana from the department was there at the airport to meet me (bright and early) and had a cab drop me off at my dorm. The dorm is for foreigners, is about 10 stories tall, and is pretty luxurious as far as Russian dorms go. I have a fridge, a microwave, a tv, some shelves, a desk, and sheets that almost cover the bed that I can almost fit on. I have a little subdivision «Секция» where 3 or 5 other people live (I can’t decide), all of whom speak Russian way better than me. For some reason I have feeling way too shy to talk to talk to anyone around the dorm, but maybe eventually I’ll make some friends. I asked this administrative lady at the university about the cockroaches in the kitchen, and she said it was because of the Chinese students. My eyes bulged and she apologized and said that they make a lot of food and leave it out.

Anyway, so I passed out for 7 hours and when I woke up, I realized I had nothing I needed to survive: no food, no towel, no soap, no utensils, no plates, no card for my phone… I could go on and on. Anyway, I went out to see the city and try to track down the things I needed to get me through the night. My host contact Svetlana, who, by the way, speaks great English, was skeptical about my being able to find a SIM-card for my phone, which surprised me (since they’re sold on every corner in every Russian city I’ve ever been in), but I found a million stores selling them. I had to go back to my dorm before I could actually get one, since I didn’t remember my address. I wandered around tracking down the necessities: a plate, a bowl, a mug, a fork, a spoon (I later accidentally threw the utensils down the trash shoot and had to go find new ones). Yesterday I even got a pot and a pan to make pelmeni and who knows what else in the future.

The city is pretty gorgeous as you can no doubt tell from the pictures. Coming in from the airport the landscape changes from deserted wilderness (dark, dark forests) to large city in a matter of seconds. Still, even in the city there’s lots of vegetation and plenty of parks that look as dense as the forest surrounding it. When I first set off into the city it seemed a little desolate, but then I wandered over towards the main drag (the Prospekt of Lenin) and was amazed at everything that was available. Luckily I had studied a bit of Tomsk geography on the internet before arriving, so I had an easy time of getting around, at least on the main streets. I’ve figured out that the #3 bus gets me everywhere I’ve needed to go so far.

Evidently I’m going to be taking some Russian classes, but not yet, and it’s not really clear when I’ll actually start teaching English (supposedly it can be as late as October), so really, I have nothing to do yet. I’ve gone from buying the bare necessities to starting to consider some clothes that I might need, including new shoes (I’m thinking I need to pointy Russian-man shoes, to fit in), but they don’t have a lot in my size, which, as I learned last summer, is 48. I found a couple of pirated mp3 cd’s (4 bucks for the complete collection of any group you can find). I took home the complete Leningrad and the complete Kino but might go back for Snoop Dog and a few others. I really need to start buying some more substantive food and things to make it with, but finding it for a good price isn’t always easy. In short, I’m still finding my way, but I’m getting very good at spending money.
Today I stopped into the American Center, which is in the middle of the huge library of TGU (the other big university in town), and once I explained my way past the surprisingly formidable security checkpoint, I slowly made my way to the center.

When I introduced myself as the new American in town, I got the whole she-bang. The lady explained all about the center and told all kinds of stories about Megan, the former Fulbright ETA who evidently made a pretty big impression on everyone here. She showed me their video collection, which I think will come in handy, and let me browse their American literature section. She then insisted on showing me all the reading rooms in the building, setting up a tour of the historical books for me, showing me the section on Russian art, and getting me a little pass so I can come back. It was nice to get to see what seems to be a pretty great resource, but I was detained so long that I was late in meeting Svetlana to go get my registration.
When I got there she was talking to the French “Specialist”. I forgot to say that my official title here is “Specialist”. Not bad. I think I’ll get it put on my “Vizitka” (business card, if only I could see Anatolii the doctor with that kind of vizitka to give out!). Anyway, I confused the French girl for a Russian student, because she was speaking in English me. Oh well!

I got my passport , migration card, and brand-new registration from a lady at the university and now can say that I officially exist in the Russian Federation. Great!

Well, I’m going to crack open one of the books I just got at «Академкнига» and round myself up some dinner. I’ll post this whenever I get my hands on some internet. Enjoy the pictures. I will have included a few from Moscow and a few from Tomsk. I’m going to try to find a good place to post more than 5 pictures at a time for you all to admire.

That’s all for now,
Jason

I love Russia!

It worked! I got the money back! It was waiting for me at the desk. I'm so happy, so enamored with the Russian people! I really can't believe my luck!

Lesson learned

Wow,

So I’ve had some adventures in Moscow. On our first day we went to the Embassy and met with a lot of advisors and representatives of various departments, which, apart from being very tiring after a night of train-travel, was pretty interesting. The US Ambassador’s wife even approached us (she, a former Fulbrighter) and invited us to “the residence” at some point. We hear d a lot of interesting things from various briefings and left in a bit of a daze.

That night I met Zeke, an old friend my summer abroad in Petersburg. He has been working for the Moscow times this past year and it was great to catch up. The next day we stopped into the American center and then to the Fulbright office. We took care of some official business and then were set loose into the city. I desperately needed to exchange some money (I was told to bring a lot of cash and so needed to change it all to Rubles eventually). I was nervous about the street exchanges, but heard you don’t have to pay as big of fees as at a bank, so after visiting Red Square and wandering towards Arbat with some friends, I finally chose a decent looking exchange with a door for security and a good rate.

I had calculated how much I should get in exchange for $1,300 (31,850 Rubles) and thought I was in good shape. The lady told me that amount, counted out the 850, and pulled the rest out of the machine. I, stupidly, was afraid to stay in the little room too long and get scolded, so I went back outside and put of counting my money until later. Also, I didn’t get a receipt and didn’t think about it until later. I enjoyed a nice afternoon and some shuarma on Novyi Arbat and went home with a sense of achievement (having exchanged my currency).

After folding some laundry, I remembered to count the money I had gotten, and much to my surprise, I was 5,000 Rubles short. That’s $205. As you can imagine, I went into shock. How stupid of me not to have counted the money, not to have asked for a receipt. I have an obvious accent and a foreign look. It would be so easy to rip me off. If I had noticed that I’d been short-changed, she could have apologized and given me the right amount, otherwise, I have no proof, the police would do nothing, and she’d walk away with $200. I was an idiot. I eventually found some friends to consult. Everyone agreed, the situation was grim. I could go to the police and maybe get a passport check and pay a bribe to get my documents back. I could go back to the lady and be sworn at to no avail. Basically, I had no options. Finally, I decided to go ask the ladies at the hotel desk for advice.

They were wonderful. They heard me out, asked for all the financial details, explained that nobody should ever go to an exchange in an underground tunnel (banks charge fees, but are secure and give receipts)… they told me that yes, going to the police would be useless. Finally, they said that my once chance was to go back and hope that it was an honest person making an honest mistake, and that she’d rectify it. Even then, I had no proof. The situation was pretty hopeless. Nonetheless, they recommended that I try, and even reminded me of the word for “receipt”, which any native-English speaker might forget in favor of a word that means “recipe” or “prescription”, none of which would have helped me. When they asked where in Russia I was headed and heard Tomsk, they smiled sweetly and promised that nothing like this would ever happen in Tomsk. This warmed my heart greatly.

Finally, I asked some friends, and they agreed to accompany me for courage. I decided that the reason I was in this mess was that I was too afraid to talk to people, too afraid to say that I needed a minute to count my money. This was a lesson I needed to learn. Talking to the hotel ladies gave me the confidence I needed to realize that I can speak some Russian, that I can express myself, and that the only way to thrive in another country is to have what it takes to actually talk to people.

With my friends’ help I prepared some tactics. I’d appeal to her as if I assumed it was a mistake, say that I am sure she is an honest person, that I was foolish not to have counted, that I certainly had no evidence, and that I really just wanted to make sure there was no way to settle things. We, my friends, the ladies, at the desk, and I, were all sure, however, that I had been had, that I was a stupid foreigner in a wild metropolis, and that I had walked into an obvious trap.

I buzzed at the door and was allowed in. “Were you working here at 5?” I asked. “Yeah, so? She answered, pretty hostilely. “Do you remember me?” “No, can I help you?” I fumbled, “I know people make mistakes, everyone makes mistakes.” She looked puzzled. “I came in here and gave you $1300. You should have given me…” I really started to fumble. I was nervous, forgot numbers, stuttered, apologized. Finally, she realized I was really worked up, calmed me down, and asked me to explain. I did and she did the calculations, figured out how much I should have received and how much I did. It all added up. I didn’t know what would happen.

To my amazement, I started to sense real sympathy. This person I took for a swindler really felt for me. She said there couldn’t have been a mistake, that the machine counted the money, etc. Finally, she asked me to come back the next day. I told her I was leaving for Tomsk and that I might not be able to. I asked what she could do tomorrow that she couldn’t now. She explained that she could call the bank and find out if there was a problem with the numbers, and if there was, give me the money the next day. When I told her it’d be hard to make it, she got agitated, begged me to understand that she was also in a bind, that it was a legal issue and so on. I understood that she really wanted to make things right. Eventually she called her boss, explained the situation, and when told that she couldn’t just hand out $5,000 Rubles, pleaded that he understand that I was on my way out of the city and couldn’t come back. Nothing came of the phone call, and we started talking again.

I told her I could try to come back, and she said that I absolutely need to, that she would be there, and that she would look into it for me.

I was amazed. I came there feeling cheated, feeling disillusioned with the country I had devoted so much time and energy into studying, feeling like I wanted to at least vent my frustrations on this lady in a perexod ( can’t really translate). What I found was a real person, sympathetic, caring, real. I really believe her. If she had really taken my money and faked that performance, then she is a talented enough actress to deserve it. I’m going to go back tomorrow, and maybe somehow I’ll get my money back. If not, I don’t even think I’ll be that upset. If nothing else I have a renewed faith in people, in the Russian people, in everything I thought I loved about this country. If nothing else I learned that to get by here, to learn anything, I’m going to have to stop being so nervous and self-conscious and actually talk to people. That’s what I’m here for, after all. If nothing else, I have at least a little bit of renewed faith in myself (obvious counting blunder aside), that I have managed to pick up a bit of Russian in the last few years.

We’ll see what happens tomorrow. Regardless, I have an expensive cab-ride to the airport at 7:30, and my flight to Siberia leaves just before midnight. Despite the stress of this misadventure, I’m really excited to finally get to see my home for a year.

More to come,

Jason

PS, I've posted some more pictures from Kiev

Moscow!

Hello again,

We've been pretty busy, and I haven't had much time to update. I just got to Moscow after a 13 hr train ride with a character names Anatolii about whom I'll tell you in a bit. Kiev was beautiful and the people were great. We didn't see a whole lot of it, since we were busy and only really knew the main streets. We left and, sadly, said goodbye to about half our ETA's, who are stuck in a plush Kiev apartment (or flying back to the US, as the case may be) because of visa troubles. I'm going to miss some new friends a lot, but I'll see 'em in Moscow in January, if not sooner.

So the man in the train...

Before we set off, a very drunk man hugged our director and said something to him. As I was getting on, our director warned me to avoid the creepy guy who he had been talking to. As luck would have it, he was in my cabin.

He was pretty drunk. He shoed the mother and daughter out of the cabin so he could change into his shorts and, as I found out, so we could drink some vodka. He was too drunk to fold his pants or find his shorts. He forced tons of food on me, including some delicious pirozhki with berries and an ernormous, nasty tomato that exploded onto my pants and stained them. The mother was (with good reason) noticeably concerned for her daughter's safety. The daughter was cute and seemed used to dealing with characters like this guy.

So after he had fed me and forced a few shots of vodka down my throat, he pulled me aside to watch the sunset and talk about the universality of love and people, how there should be no boarders, how we should all live together in harmony, because people were all the same everywhere. It was a nice speech and I agreed. He wished God to be with me (as a doctor, he specified) about 20 times. He couldn't remember my name and wanted my business card. I didn't have one so I wrote my name on a napkin for him a couple hours later. He was either too drunk to read or couldn't, so the lady had to fill out his migration card for him and I had to write down his name and phone number when he wanted me to have it (in case I got sick, he swears he's a doctor (not a vrach, the Russian word for a doctor). He claims to have treated Pope John Paul the II's best friend and that he was going to treat the Pope, but that he died before he could. He says he didn't want to make a bad impression, but that he would sober up and be a real doctor again when he got to Moscow.

When I told him about my Ukrainian great-grand-father, he said he real relatives came from Kazahkstahn. I thought he was calling me a liar, but apparently there was a big migration a long time ago. He also read my fortune and said that two girls have deceived me (been unfaithful). Interesting news!

Anyway, it was a long and interesting train ride. He laughed, told stories of friends, cried (really), apologized to the girl for crying. He said this was him being weak, that he had a lot of pain in his soul, but that he used to be a strong man, used to read, write poetry, stuy karate, play instruments, all sorts of things. All in all, it was an interesting experience, pretty sad, but altogether telling. He was really a kind old man, full of good intentions and love for his fellow man. I don't know that I'll be calling him up, however.

That's all for now. I leave for Tomsk on Saturday night. More stories to come!

Love,
Jason

More tank pictures...

Tank demonstrations escalate. These have nothing on the videos Becca took of Tanks rolling by at night. A parade of increasingly enormous vehicles and missiles. We'll see what happens on Independence Day on Sunday

(more pictures)

Live from Kiev

Hello all,

I've been in Kiev for a few days and have finally gotten some reliable internet. The city is gorgeous, and the people, for the most part are especially friendly. We've seen a little recreation of a traditional Ukrainian village that was interesting. Since my great-grandfather moved from a village probably not-unlike this one, I felt a sort of connection (maybe phony) to the area, and it was neat to imagine that it was somehow akin to my "rodina".

On the second night we made a picnic in this little park between two streets, bread, cheese, and beers. An ETA brought his banjo and, to our luck, we lured ourselves a real, live Ukrainian guy named Sasha. He ended up staying for about 4 hours, and we had some great conversation. I was glad to see that my conversation skills aren't as rusty as I had feared, and was, with a few exceptions, happy to find this Ukrainian to a friendly, enthusiastic, and pleasant person.

Fast forward through some classes and adventures with vicious mosquitoes, street noise, a broken AC, and late-insomnia, and I'll tell you about yesterday afternoon and evening. We took the metro to a tourist market (about ten cents a ride, wow), and walked up a pretty hill to inspect their collections of dolls, rusty rubbish, thimbles, and traditional wooden maces. I wanted to grab some Ukrainian memorabilia for my dad, but my luggage is exactly at the max of 20 kg for domestic flights, and so I cannot afford to accumulate anything. We saw some beautiful churches, a neat tram, and then stopped into the local MAKDONALDS for a shake. A beggar girl with cheeseburger in hand asked for some cash, and our friend hooked her up with an American dollar. She said "PHFLANKS" in English, cheeseburger flying forth from her mouth, and returned minutes later with a milkshake. Talk amongst yourselves.

I was luck enough to meet up with a friend who had been teaching English for a year, along with another American teacher and 3 of his Ukrainian students. It was a whole lot of fun, and I even got some good insight into what teaching English in Russia is probably going to be like. I hope to meet up with the friend again, and maybe even get a picture to show our mutual friend back home (Emily Whalen, if you happen to be reading this).

We had some homework for today and have been examining some fine ESL materials all day long, and now we're free to blog, facebook, and get some grub. Becca Dash, a Kenyon grad, is in charge of the orientation and is pencilling in a dinner with me (things are not going well with visa's and everyone's got a lot of stress to deal with). It turns out that the new officer in charge of Russian Fulbright's is another Kenyon grad from '95 or so. Small world.

Anyway, I'm going to check into putting some pictures up here. If not, there should be some on facebook. More to come.

L0ve,
Jason

An august departure...

That's right, I'm studying for the GRE, and it's already paying off in puns.

So I had my Fulbright orientation in DC, and I'm slightly less at ease about what I have to do between now and August 17th, when I leave for my in-country orientation in Kiev. I'm to book a flight from Moscow to Tomsk and plan to pack less than Russia's domestic luggage maximum (22kg) for a year in Siberia. All the same, I'm realizing more and more how much fun it's going to be to teach English at a Russian university. And even though Tomsk is a two-and-a-half-day train ride away from Moscow, everyone continues to to assure me that Tomsk is one of the best places in Russia to live, work, and study.

My visa invitation is on its expedited way to Ohio, so they might even let me into the country. In the mean time, I'll be in sunny Gambier, OH, so stop on by.