The Craziest Weekend You'll Never Have

But wow - i totally did. It started off around 9am on Friday morning...

...

wait. I just want to preface this with a promise of brevity. I don't know that i'll succeed in fulfilling this promise, but maybe having promised it i'll try harder to condense my ramblings.

----Part 1----
--Twilit Pizza--

So like i said: My weekend really started on Friday morning at 9am when i went to volunteer at a different school (school 90) until 1pm.

I met two of the students from the other school in front of my school - then we made our way onto the tram. The tram took a little while and we popped off a little past the furthest i'd walked into town.

It had snowed on Thursday night, so there was still a little around, but it had already started to melt. :-( I don't know that i'll see all the snow i thought i would at this point, but a guy can hope, can't he? Maybe if it snows all day tomorrow and Tuesday?

So anyways .... we got to the school and i did my thing. There was an entire class-full of students crammed into one room (probably about 20 of them) and we had a question and answer session that lasted for about 40 minutes. After that we went to another classroom where they were discussing Charles Dickens' "A Christmas Carol" and i chimed in every now and then when asked.

After that I switched teachers (Lena was the original) and answered questions for a classroom full of 5th (i think?) graders. Most of those questions involved the kids asking a question they remembered out of their textbooks, and then frowning a bit when i answered. I did get the feeling like they understood a lot, but it certainly wasn't all. (they were just kids after all!)

So after that i had lunch in the school cafeteria (rice and strogonoff, two waters called "compote" because they have fruit in them, and some bread) and then went to a question and answer session with the eleventh grade class. We ran out of questions eventually, though, so it got a little quiet.

There was one girl who was really interested in Brazil because she would like to go there and to learn Portuguese, so she had lots of questions about that :-)

I tried to leave my contact info for anyone who wanted it - i like the idea that even though i'm going home on Sunday, i can keep helping kids expand their knowledge of the world around them (and how to communicate with it) until they get bored of me :-)

So I left the school around 1 and walked back to school 27, which took about 40-odd minutes. As i was arriving, i met up with the little girl that i mentioned before. This was no big deal until i walked into the building and met with the students i was going to a movie with. At that point I said "ok, i have to go now - we're leaving" and she refused to let go of me. I tried being stern, but that didn't work, so i figured we'd walk up to Tatiana's room and maybe she could help. I don't know that Tatiana understood what i was asking, or maybe she figured i should get myself out of my own mess, but either way it didn't work.

We talked for a little bit about the other school, then i headed down/was dragged by the little girl back downstairs and out the building. We met back up with the people that i was going to the movie with (Anya, Andrei, and Irina - not hostmom Irina) and I tried again to get the little girl to go to class, all to no avail.

We all crossed the street to the trolley and i continued on to the other side of the street - the girl lives on that side, so i figured i could ask her to head home and cross back over to the tramvai. No dice. She *refused* to let go and was making a REALLY big commotion - i was convinced that people would think i was her dad and was just abandoning her on the street.

In fact, i started to think that that had happened because i started feeling people looking at me and hearing people speaking loudly. It took a second to realize that the people speaking loudly were doing so at the little girl - it was a gaggle of girls and they all seemed to know the little girl. They hurried over and tried prying her off me - and once they had succeeded i ran to the middle of the street to get on the tramvai which was just arriving.

From inside the tramvai which i believed would never start moving, i watched with no small amount of terror as the girls eventually relinquished their grip, and the little girl started trying to cross the road. The doors eventually closed, and as the tramvai trundled away i watched the girls leading the young girl away from the road and (hopefully) home.

I really don't know what to do in the future with this girl. I really feel bad for her, and i think maybe that she's placed some of her missing of her parents onto me. I think maybe i need to be a mean person the next time i see her, but that might just make things worse ... i hope that when i leave she just forgets about me entirely - i've only been here a little while, so maybe.

So anyways: we went to the movies.

We got off of the tramvai and got onto another one (in the "center" of town) which took us over the river, through the woods, past grandmother's house, and deposited us past a planted forest (fake trees! fake trees!) and somewhere around Moscow. (j/k)

We walked the rest of the way to the movie theater - dodging puddles and mud as best we could. This wasn't really possible, though, so it was kindof like trying to dodge bullets. Big, wet, dirty bullets that people drive through and splash you with right after you jumped over the last one.

We eventually got to the mall we were going to (about a 5 minute walk) and stomped our boots through the front doors. It was a very pretty mall, with a giant clock in the middle on the floor - you have to see the pic :-)

We went up and bought our tickets to Twilight (yes, Twilight - i won't say it again and you won't repeat it to and of my male friends) and decided to walk about the mall since we had about 40 minutes before the movie. We dropped off our coats at the coat room (yes coat room - they're everywhere... probably something about the sub-infinity degrees they usually have in the winter here)

The plan was actually to go to the supermarket which was accessible through the mall, but we couldn't actually remember how to do that, so "walking about" is what we did.

Eventually we found the way to the store and proceeded to ... gawk at the empty shelves. I guess they hadn't re-stocked yet after some major bigwig threw a huge kegger or something. We never found out why the shelves were empty, but after everyone but me grabbed a juice, we all headed back up.

I made a pit stop on the way, and the only reason i mention it is this: I followed about 50 feet of signs for the bathroom through a small service corridor.

It's not actually very funny. You can just forget that you read that. It was funny when i popped out from the bathroom and waved to my peeps from across the mall, but now ... well ... just pretend i said something funny, but you can't remember what.

Andrei also tried to go up the down escalator, and not on purpose, but i think i've regaled you with enough "funnier if you were there" moments. ;-)

So we get up to the movie theater (call Very Velly ... maybe a play on the mispronounced V? Wery Welly? But that doesn't make sense either unless they meant Very Welly ... ... have you fallen asleep yet?)

I made my way to the concession stand and figured we'd order a big popcorn to share ... ah! There's a combo! Big popcorn and big soda! Oh wait, but i also want to have a beer ... HOLY MOLY! There's Brahma! Why is there a Brazilian beer i can't even find in Phoenix here in Izhevsk?! OK ok, so let's see - Brahma, Soda, Popcorn ... wait - it's only a little more for two sodas ... somebody will want one!

So Anya helps me order, and we walk away from the concession stand with two large sodas, a beer in a plastic cup, and a tub of popcorn. Irina stifled a laugh and said (in the kindest way possible) "Now, you look very American."

We sat down in our seats (you choose them when you buy your tickets ... me likey!) just in time for the previews. Everything was in Russian, except for one thing:

"The following preview..." blah blah blah. But then the preview itself was in Russian! They totally got my hopes up! Grr. It was for a movie about Igor - animated ... looked Tim Burtony.

NEways - the movie was ... well ... i don't know that i missed much by not understanding most of it, but it was good listening practice! (and no, no subs) I will tell you that i understood one very deep and meaningful line, though:

"Sex ... money ... sex ... cat ..."

Now you must watch it, or you will forever wonder what the hell that means.

So the credits scrolled and we marched out of the theater, past the doors that said "Push to exit" in Russian AND English, and back out into the mall. Pretty soon we were out in the cold, then on a bus, then at our final destination... Pizza Hut.

Now it's at this point in the story that i have to ask all readers who have NOT had the good sense to watch Demolition Man to please come to their senses and do so. Immediately.

We'll wait here.

...

...

Go ahead, then! Those "..."s were meant to give you time! You weren't just supposed to read them and be on your merry way through the next block of text!

Heathen.

Anyway, assuming you'll know what i'm talking about (lord knows i gave you enough time to watch the movie three times over just now) the Pizza Hut in Izhevsk was akin to the Taco Bell in Demolition Man. There was a Maitre D'. There were facy tables. There were fancy walls. There were fancy prices.

It was the Mother of all Pizza Huts. There were even HOT WINGS. I didn't try them, becuase there were 3 for 6 dollars or something like that, but they were there. (EDIT: This is no big deal in the States, but this is the first and only time i've seen wings here. I mean, i don't think they even have buffaloes ...)

It was about a minute after we sat down that my phone rang. I should mention that before we got to the movie, i got a call from Dima, (one of my friends here) and he explained that Oleg would pick me up to go fishing not tomorrow, but tonight. "Oh" i said ... "i thought we were going tomorrow?" Dima told me that we would be leaving at some point tonight and then when we got back tomorrow, he and his wife Katya would like to have me over to her parents' house in the country and to a Russian banya.

I've been told several times that before i leave Russia, i have to go to a Russian banya, or bath house. I excitedly replied "Hells yeah!" And then my phone died.

My phone dies a lot. If cats have nine lives, my phone has 9 cats per day. It's recockulous.

Flash forward again to when my phone has just enough battery for me to pick up the phone and hear Oleg say "Are you ready to go?"

Flash back a day, and i was telling Irina (my hostmom) that i would be glad to talk with her friend's son Vlad, who was an 11th grader at a different school.

Sensing imminent doom (or at least that sinking promise-breaking feeling) I agreed to swap my SIM card into Anya's phone to try calling Oleg back. Anya played translator on two phone calls immediately after that. One confirming that Oleg and his friend Boris would pick me up at Pizza Hut, and the other telling Irina that i would be home at eight for five minutes to pick up my stuff and then i'd be gone.

This was NOT going as planned.

The Hawaiian pizza arrived, we ate our fill, (except for Irina-not-hostmom who didn't want pizza) and i unwittingly sentenced myself to 24 hours of stomach problems. And not the kind that are really good to have when you're going out of town to a hunting lodge, if you catch my meaning.

Oleg met me outside of the Pizza Hut at around 8pm and walked me over to the car we would be driving in - Eva. Eva was being piloted (and i don't use the word loosely) by Boris. We stopped off at my host family's apartment and i ran inside to get my stuff for the trip.

My host mom had warned me to bring the warmest clothes i had, and basically to wear them all. "You don't know cold" is basically how her warning translated. I started apologizing as soon as the door opened, and Vlad and i talked briefly while i packed my backpack and put on some more layers. We figured on meeting some time before i left, then i headed out the door as everyone said goodbye and wished me luck on my adventure :-)

The car sped off into the road and we were on our way.

----Part 2----
--Boy's Night Out (aka "Fishing") and the Problem of Passarat--

I want to re-iterate that word: sped. I want to re-iterate it because i want you to understand that when i say we careened down the streets of Izhevsk, I'm not just being flip. (which is something we thankfully did not do) Boris is by no means a bad driver, in fact he's a very good driver. So zipping down the roads and past traffic with sharp turns and fast changes wasn't a big deal to him - just me, who sat wide-eyed (except when they were clamped shut) and slack jawed (except when yelping in surprise) in the back of the car.

We took a route that followed along Izhevsk pond, and struck off to the north-east. We stopped first in a store to pick up some necessities. By necessities i mean a rotisserie chicken, 2 bottles of water, kielbasa, cheese, bread, and 2 bottles of vodka.

It was about when we were in line that i started thinking "Man ... i need to find a bathroom." I mentioned it to Oleg and he said the house wasn't too far from where we were. "No problem" i thought.

In about 5 minutes, there was a problem. I won't get too far into the details, but i think it's important to partially enlighten you: On the way to the house, there are train tracks. When you cross the train tracks, Oleg and Boris said that they have a tradition of drinking beer and waiting for the train to come, and then basically making a lot of noise as it passes by.

If you are offended by the word "bowel", skip the next three paragraphs.

Something i totally would find awesome and fun, but for the growing urgency with which i needed to make it to the house. "Screw it" i figured. "If there's an outhouse there, then the only difference between here and there is some wood." I grabbed the roll of TP which they had wisely bought at the store, grabbed a taplight that we were using as a flashlight, and stumbled off into the woods.

I sh!t you not (hahah) that five seconds after i'd found a spot and dropped trou, i saw Boris and Oleg hop into the car and drive off. Fortunately i'd heard one of them say "machina", which means "car", so i wasn't worried that they were ditching me. Unfortunately, they had said "machina", which means "car", and I was NOT that far from the road.

For the second time that night i though "screw it" and went about my business. When the car passed i hunkered down as best i could (in a bright red skiing jacket) and watched as the pool of light from the car passed just to the side of me at a (thankfully) brisk pace. "What the hell," i thought. "The worst that can happen is they see me and have some significant mental scarring for the rest of their lives."

OK, you can start reading again now.

I made my way back to the car (which was only a bit further down the road) and found Oleg and Boris both with beer in hand waiting for me. I handed back the flashlight, put away the TP, and cracked open a bottle of Baltika.

At this point it might be a good idea to point out that Oleg speaks very little English (though he's been speaking more and more of it every time we hang out) and Boris is at about the same place with his English skills. I also should remind the reader that I'm not exactly fluent in Russian. In point of fact, i think that Boris and Oleg may have had a leg up on me linguistically several times in the night.

The point is that all of our conversations took a lot of mimeing, mumbling, and a bit of swearing, but they were a hell of a lot of fun. We talked about Boris' past a little, and his family. We talked about my job, the crazy Russian weather we're having, and the day i leave for Moscow (Thursday) then home. (Sunday)

It was a very good time. (there are even pictures!)

After about 3 bottles each, we got back in the car and made our way the last mile or so to the place where we parked the car to walk the rest of the way. Basically it was a row of houses on the water, and Boris' was the 5th or so in.

As we started walking past the first house, a pair of dog-looking animals came out and started walking past and around us. "Wolves" joked Oleg. Or at least i hoped he was joking. I mean hey, some people keep alligators for pets - maybe these were like "dog wolves" or some craziness!

Round about the time i finished thinking that, my train of thought stopped at the next station, which was a little further down the line than it should have been.

"We bought a rotisserie chicken ... didn't we?" I asked as one of the dogs took a tentative nip at the bag Oleg was carrying.

"It's OK," Oleg said. "I know these dogs."

We walked along with the dogs keeping us company until we got to the house. Boris unlocked the gate and we walked in - the dogs were apparently a kind of fixture in the area, so there was no point in trying to keep them out. As we made it into the house, i snapped a shot of our company and found that they weren't ferocious wolf-dog-alligators at all, but long-haired Rottweiler mixes. (which were, btw, super freaking cute.)

Boris hit the switch on the main circuit to power the house and we went inside. The house consisted of 5 rooms on 2 floors. As I walked in, there was a dining area to my right with a table, which was next to a kitchen with a spare bed. To my left was a staicase leading up, and across from the staircase, a bedroom. Upstairs, there were two smaller rooms with beds as well which are used in the summer time.

As i took in the house, Boris had gotten out what looked like the thruster off the back of a small jet. This thruster was attached to a large tank of propane. This particular voluntourist was a bit flabbergasted.

Boris turned on the gas, cranked on the thruster (it had an ignitor) and a steady blast of heat started coming from the small red jet engine. It was pretty freaking awesome.

It didn't take long for the house to warm up while Oleg showed me around outside: Here's the old russian bath house, (you'll find out about these later) here a storage room, this is where you "Passat" (pee) and, (gesturing at the outhouse) here's where you "Passarat".

We went back inside and Oleg set about cutting up the meat and cheese, and nuking (yes, there was a microwave) the chicken.

Soon after, the drinking began. We all had one more beer to finish of the Baltika, but we didn't touch the other beer we had. We were too busy with the Vodka.

The vodka was, i believe, Taiga. As a general rule, i don't drink Vodka - not since the Vodka/Goldschlager/Tequila/Bathtub incident of '98. (no, i won't tell you unless you buy me beer) So it was with a grimace of anticipation that i poured our first shots, held up my glass, and sent the harsh liquid down the hatch.

Actually, it wasn't that bad. I think, though, that my recollection of the vodka was much improved by two things in reverse order of importance: pineapple juice chasers, and more vodka.

When we were about half way done with our food and drink we decided to head out and do some shooting. No, not with real guns - a pneumatic rifle that only shoots pellets. (you remember what happened the last time i had one of those, mom?)

We trooped outside and Boris set up a matchbox (A MATCHBOX) on the top of a fence about 15 yards away. Being the guest of honor (or because it would be funny) i went first. The rifle was pump action (no CO2) and had a scope on it. Shouldering the butt of the rifle, i took aim and plinked away a pellet into a very dark woods behind the fence. Oleg insisted on a second try, so i pumped the rifle, loaded a pellet, shouldered the rifle, and after taking a slightly lower bead on the matchbox, squeezed the trigger as gently as i could.

It goes without saying that i was very pleasantly surprised and extremely proud when that matchbox flew off the fence and plunked into the snow behind the fence.

It also goes without saying that one should never put one's eye right up to the scope of a rifle, because that sh!t will recoil like a mofo and smack you straight in the face. And so it was with a red tear of joy that i went trotting after the matchbox to show off the neat little hole i'd made from 15 yards away.

Remember that time i smacked my forehead on the corner of a shelf a week or so before the wedding? Well now that mark has a slowly fading brother just above my left eye.

::sigh::

Needless to say, i cared not a wit about my new injury, and we shot at the matchbox, a stick of wood, and the top of a can for at least an hour after that.

After all that work, we obviously needed some food and drink, so we all headed back in to finish what was left... and finish it we did.

By the time i collapsed into bed, it was around 1 or 2 am, almost all the food was gone, and all but two shots were left of the two bottles of vodka Boris and Oleg had bought. (they refused when i offered to pay them back)

Now there's one interesting thing that i've found out about drinking here - when you drink a lot, you crack open a bottle of pickle juice and take a drink before you go to sleep to fight off a hangover. I don't know if it worked for sure, but i certainly had no hangover when i woke up in the morning.

We had woken up late (i was supposed to be back by 10am to meet Dima and Katya) so we hurriedly ate some mandarin oranges, drank some juice and water, and headed out. Oleg and i went first while Boris stayed behind to clean/lock-up the house.

"Hm," i thought. "Maybe the outhouse wouldn't be a bad idea JIC."

Of course, why would i listen to myself? That would be crazy!

So Oleg and i went off and took some pictures of the lake on our way to the car. The car that wouldn't start. Well, not for about 15 minutes anyway! Finally Oleg managed to get her cranking and kept Eva from stalling when idle.

I was officially starting to think i should head back to the outhouse ... like NOW ... so i offered to find Boris, who still hadn't arrived. I started trucking down the path, wondering why i'd waited so long, and thinking "If i hurry, he'll still be there." So of course i wasn't the least bit surprised when i ran into Boris a little further down the path.

"OK, we're late, so i can wait it out" I thought to myself.

We piled into the car, and Boris let us know that we would be taking a passenger with us into town. An old man got into the car and I spent so much time focusing on not thinking about when i could "go" that i completely missed the opportunity to talk to him.

It was kinda funny though, when Boris told him to put his seat belt on, and the man started putting the lap belt across his lap, and the chest strap behind his back. I'm not sure, but it may have been his first time putting on a seat belt.

This time i was extremely glad that we were in a hurry. Every building we passed became a target of my attention as i focused on two things: Finding a toilet, and excusing the abruptness with which i would demand a quick stop.

Fortunately (in hind sight) no such opportunity arose. We dropped the older gentleman off at a bus stop in town, and a few turns later we were at the store where we were supposed to meet Dima and Katya.

I knew we were in a hurry, and i knew that Dima and Katya would be able to take me back to the apartment before we went off, (even though i had the sinking feeling that it was out of the way) but i couldn't wait.

"Oleg, minha nujna toilet."

"Dima and Katya take you you home."

"No no, minha NUJNA toilet, seechahss."

A perplexed look. "You walk a little and go...?"

"No no, passarat." A desperate look.

"Ahhh..."

I can imagine being in his shoes - toilets aren't everywhere, and we would have run into the same problem in the US. If you stop at a random corner in a city, half the places are only for customers and the other are only for employees.

I started pointing at every shop that looked big enough: "Tam?" (there?)

We started walking off toward some shops and i started feeling better, but by the third shop or so it was a bit worse, and on top of that, i could no longer curl up in the fetal position in the car.

Oleg popped into an internet club and explained the situation to the girl, who kinda laughed, nodded, and pointed at the door that said "Toilet." I'm pretty sure that Oleg said more than "do you have a toilet" but at that point i didn't really care.

I charged into the room ... where was the paper?? Walking back out i asked "do you have paper?" "Shto?" (what?)

... oh man ... what's the damn word for paper?!?!?! Thankfully my mind and eyes were in perfect health, so i spotted some paper (certificates on the wall) and pointed.

"Please God, don't let her think i want to borrow the certificate or see their bathroom service record ..."

The girl got me right off and said "bumagi?" "Yeah! Bumagi!" (please God, let it be bumagi ... it SOUNDS familiar ... WHY DIDN'T I LEARN FROM YEKATERINBURG?!)

She hurried off to the back room and came back with a roll of (allelujah) TP, and I (allelujah) hurried off into the bathroom.

When i came back out the girl had another girl with her and they were chatting. I was more than a little embarrassed as i handed her the paper and said "spahceeba," then turned quickly and walked as unabashedly as i could out the door.

It's at about this point that i developed a kind of motto for myself: "What the hell, why bother being embarrassed?" I mean realistically, every time i went somewhere (with a few exceptions) i would likely never see the people there again. Even assuming that i do go back to Izhevsk some day, what are the odds that a random person in a random store would remember me? So really, why bother being embarrassed about anything?!

When i got outside i saw Dima and Katya talking with Boris by his car, with Oleg close by. I'm not sure if i blushed, but laughs were shared and we struck off in Dima and Katya's car. I explained that i had to go back to the apartment first, because i had to get my phone. I'd left it charging at the apartment because i hadn't expected there to be outlets at the fishing/summer house.

I wanted to be able to call Irina or at least leave a note telling her that we got a late start, and that the only way i could go to a Russian banha (due to time constraints) was if we arrived between 8 and 10pm. This wouldn't normally be a problem, but we'd arranged to go to her parents' house around 5, which was a whole hour after i was originally supposed to be back with Dima and Katya.

We turned one street early and ended up at a dead end about 50 feet from the building where i'm living, so i jumped out and raced home from there. Once home, i quickly changed, grabbed a towel for the banha, my phone to call Irina, and my camera charger just in case.

As i headed out the door and locked it I started dialing Irina's mobile number, trying to figure out exactly how to tell her why i couldn't make it on time in Russian.

"Allo?"

"Uh, hello? Irina? It's Christian ..."

Not the smoothest of starts, but every conversation has to take off from somewhere. I got into Dima's car and closed the door as i started blurting out the half English and half Russian which has become kind of a norm with Irina and Sergei.

Irina understood what i was saying faster than i would have, and we hung up.

I looked at Dima and said "OK, let's do this!" And with that we were off to the country.

----PART 3----
--Good Place, Good People, Good Golly It's Hot in this Banha--

The car ride took about 30 minutes - not really so horrible. ... Well, on any other day when i wasn't suffering from "Pizza Hut's Revenge" it wouldn't have been too horrible. Also, there was the whole "beer before liquor" (never been sicker) thing from the night before ...

So maybe overall just not a great time to be in a car for 30 minutes.

About halfway through the ride the "beer before liquor" factor started kicking in and i asked Dima to crack the windows a little. The cool air made me feel a bit better, but the fact that i had my mouth practically IN the space between the door frame and the window made it a little difficult to talk.

This, of course, gave me plenty of time to think about how i would probably always be remembered in Izhevsk as "that sick American".

We pulled off of the main road onto a smaller one and stopped at a store so that Katya could pick up some food. As she went in the store, my insides started reminding me that now that my nausea had passed, it was about time to move back to paying attention to other matters. Like finding a bathroom.

I asked Dima as nonchalantly as i could (read: not at all) about whether there might be a lavatory in the store. He said no, but that the house wasn't too far. Anyone who's ever had stomach issues knows that "not too far" to the next bathroom is always going to feel like "way too !@#$ing far" by the time you get there. But i figured we'd burn that bridge when we got there.

Katya came out a bit later with the supplies (i eyed the package of kolbasa greedily) and we got back into the car.

The directions to Katya's house play back something like this in my head:

Turn off the highway of nausea and make your way onto a small, rustic road. Pass the store of incontinence on your left and go through a small country town. On your right, you'll see an old school that's been turned into a discotheque - make a left soon after that onto an unpaved road. Make another right, follow along for a bit, and come to a stop.

The reason you come to a stop at that particular point has nothing to do with arriving at the house. It has to do with what happens to an unpaved road with no gravel when the snow melts and the water has its way with the earth.

If you're not quite sure what i'm getting at, it's mud. A lot of mud. Anyone who's ever lived in a rural area knows what "mud you don't want to drive through" looks like - and that's what we were facing.

We only got about 20 feet in before our suspicion that the small 2-wheel drive car might get stuck became a reality. Katya and i got out to push.

The first step into the morass (if i could ever use that word and feel justified, it's right now) was fine. "No problem," i thought "I just have to watch my footing."

It was around when i thought the word "footing" to myself that my second step found one of the places where i should not have put my second step. My foot sank into the mud up to the top of my boots - which put it at about half-way up my calf. No mean feat considering my height.

With a bit of effort and a slightly disturbing slurping sound, my foot came out of the soggy mess i'd gotten it into. Laughing a bit to myself as i unstuck myself and investigated my new brown jeans, i started toward the back of the car.

After a few good shoves and a near faceplant into the mud (as my feet decided to check out the ground behind me instead of beneath me) we got the car going again ... 3 feet. Into some more mud.

We walked up again and started shoving, but to no avail. Dima asked us to get to the front of the car and he would try to reverse. Went off in my head, but i grabbed a desperate hold of my new motto "What the hell" and got in front of the car with Katya.

We pushed and shoved the car while Dima reversed but nothing happened. OK, well, not nothing. At one point the gas pedal went down a little further, the tires spun a little faster, and the mud flew a little higher. Time switched into slow motion as i realized that i was about to take part in a scene from some ridiculous comedy film.

The first glob of mud to hit me was probably somewhere on my jeans or my jacket, but the first one that i felt was the one that splatted itself on my forehead - just above the right eye, and halfway up my "Hooters" beanie.

Yes. I have a "Hooters" beanie.

Yes. I brought it to Russia.

No. I am not entirely ashamed of my gringovity.

(ok, maybe a little)

ANYWAYS. Getting back to the story: As i said, my beanie and forehead were now host to a quickly warming blob of cold mud. After the initial shock where Katya and I took in what had just happened we broke into a gail of laughter that almost made my new bath worth it.

"Banha," she said.

"Oh yeah. Definitely banha," i responded as we got back to work shoving.

The car wouldn't budge regardless of what we did. We tried shoving, rocking, cursing, (shown to work occasionally) and God knows what else, but no luck.

Katya called her parents to ask if they had something that i couldn't understand, let alone pronounce, but that i assumed would help us to get out of the mud. (something you shove under the tire, maybe?)

Unfortunately, her parents weren't at home. Fortunately, this was because they were just getting back from somewhere, and pulled up near us (but not stuck) within a minute or two.

After a hello and a laugh at my new fashion sense, Katya's mom wondered aloud about how my jeans were dragging on the ground (oh, so haute couture of me) and suggested that i roll them up. I've learned a lot in Russia. One of the things i've learned is that regardless of whether you're in the States or in Russia, when a mother "suggests" something, it's not because you have the option of not doing it. ;-) Katya said that it was too late, and her mother replied "It's never too late." (both were in Russian, but i'm 90% sure on the translation)

I half-heartedly rolled up my jeans (trying not to cover my hands in mud as well) and heard Katya's mom telling her to walk me up to the house while they took care of the car.

Normally i'd argue to stay and help, but between my desire to be polite and the now returning feeling that i should get to the house (and bathroom) sooner than later, we struck off across the field to the house. It was really hilarious how close we were, actually. The portion of the road we were on actually went out another 20 yards, turned left, went about 40 yards, turned left again, and went another 25 yards to the house.

If you're not catching what i'm saying here, we got stuck about 40-odd yards from the house. SO CLOSE!

The field we crossed was pretty frozen and we got to the house within just a few minutes. Katya's incredibly cute puppy, Lyma, was waiting as we went in the front gate. We got into the house, (leaving shoes outside, of course) Katya found me some temporary pants, and showed me where the bathroom was.

Soon after we were all seated in the kitchen of Katya's parents house playing the "feed the guest" game. I love this game. It starts with me being asked if i want to try something, and ends with me being completely stuffed.

I swear - i have no idea how i'm not 30 pounds heavier with all the incredible food i ate while i was in Russia. At Katya's parents' house, we had soup, salad, kolbasa, compote, (water with crushed fresh fruit = hella yummy) etc etc etc etc etc.

Dima asked if i wanted to walk around and get pictures before it got dark (which it does around 4:30pm) and i quickly agreed, if only to get some time to digest before the main dish was served.

We found me a new pair of boots (mine had been hosed down and were drying) and I swore that it was no problem - they would totally fit. They were the largest boots they had at any rate, so there wasn't much option. My feet are about 12 and a half to 13, depending on the shoe. These were NOT 13-size boots. I don't even think they were 12. As i jammed my feet into my new footwear i couldn't help but feel like i was having my feet wrapped ancient Chinese style.

We walked around the house and Dima and Katya showed me a bit of the property. The house had been built by Katya's father ("hand-made" was our word of the day) and the property around it was basically a small farm. We walked over to the far side of the house and over to a long wooden box which was raised off the ground and had a number of small wire mesh doors all along. Inside this long box were a number of adorable, fluffy, cute bunnies. AKA, the main plate for dinner tonight.

I held one of the cute bunnies and tried not to think about whether not i was hungry as i put it back. A comedy bit about "cute animals" came to mind:

"What are you?"
"I'm an otter."
"And what do you do?"
"I swim around on my back and play and do cute human things!"
"You can go."

"And what are you?"
"I'm a cow."
"Get on the truck."

Across from the fluffy bunny kennel there was another one-floor building which wrapped around toward the house a little bit. The segment of this building which was closest to the road was the garage, followed by a storage room where all the wood was kept.

I should elaborate a little on this room, because even though it's something that i'm sure exists in many places, it was the first time that i've ever seen a room filled entirely with logs of wood. I mean, we're talking at least ten feet from wall to wall, and 14 feet to the ceiling, and it was ALL WOOD. This was when the "hand-made" thing started to really kick in for me. This wood wasn't purchased - it was cut and stored. Of course there was probably help, but it's not like they went down to the local Costco, picked up a couple of logs of pretreated wood and a few bricks of Firestarters. It was really quite humbling.

From there we passed the banha (since i'd be going there later) and went into the last part of the building - the petting zoo. OK, it wasn't actually a petting zoo, but there were chickens, geese, and even a goat. I mean, this may not sound too crazy to anyone who's ever lived on a farm, but to a city slicking suburbanite like me, it was pretty wild. (especially the geese. heh heh ... get it? wild geese? wild goose chase? hah hah ... hah ... ::ahem::)

The next and last stop was the root cellar. I've never actually been in one of these, and i'm not even sure that i'm calling it the right thing. From the outside it looked like a house buried in the ground. There was a large mound in the soil as if a giant had been buried there, with what looked like a neck coming out of the ground and ending in a door. We opened the door and walked in slowly. It wasn't exactly sunny outside and we were going into a lightless tunnel, so looking forward all i could see were a few hints of steps and a black maw of nothingness beyond what seemed to be the square shape of a door frame.

It's not that i'm afraid of the dark - i just prefer the light. Chuckling a bit at this "preference" but otherwise without a second thought, i proceeded first down the steps toward the void below. The tunnel was steep and the ceiling very low - it was almost as small as those little short-range planes i get on sometimes. ... almost. The benefit here was that there were no annoying television screens for me to duck under.

The bottom was about 12 steps down (enough to be sober at the bottom, hah hah) and was not quite as unfathomably dark by the time i got down there. Well, at least it was light enough that i could see what looked like another step just beyond the door frame with absolutely nothing beyond that. After a moment's hesitation and a bleak imagining of what might happen if i was wrong about what lay below, i stepped solidly onto the ground i had hoped would be below the last step.

After a second or two of looking around in total darkness, i looked up the tunnel to see Katya following me down ... much more confidently, of course. She reached just inside the door frame and turned on the electric light. I was in a room about 20 feet long, 7 feet wide, and 8 or 9 feet high - enough that i had no need at all to duck.

The walls were lined with large wooden bins that went almost all the way to the middle of the room, leaving about a 2 foot corridor between them where you could walk. They were FILLED with foods that had been stockpiled for the winter. The most prominent were the potatoes, but there were also sacks with other veggies within the bins. On the walls there were several jars of jams, pickles, etc. When i say that almost everything i ate while i was in Russia was home made, i really mean it.

After a few more moments looking around, i turned back to the (now very bright!) tunnel and started back up.

While we had been in the house i had mentioned that the night before we'd been playing around with a pneumatic rifle. Katya's dad had one at the house, so Dima, Katya, and I took turns shooting at a big plastic bottle full of water.

After about 15 minutes, Katya's mom called us in for dinner, so we abandoned our sharpshootery (it's a word, now) and went on in. Dinner was delicious and consisted of potato puree, rabbit, salad, and a bunch of other things including some delicious compote. (water with fruit)

After we'd all had our fill (Katya's mom is a wonderful cook) we sat around talking for a while and looked at some pictures of Katya's family. It was Katya's mother's oldest brother's birthday, and they would be heading over to see him soon, which is i think why they had the pics out. Katya went ahead to the banha and not too long after that Dima followed and told me that when Katya came back it would be my turn to head into the banha.

A few minutes after Dima had left, Katya came back and told me it was time to go. Before i left, though, she gave me a warning: "Don't be worried, but Russian banha no clothes."

Well i sure as hell wasn't going to back out now just because of a lack of clothing. I came to Russia to experience Russia, so my motto sprang to mind ("What the hell") and i walked out the door to the banha. It wasn't dark yet, so i had no problem making my way back around the house to the banha. I think i must have cursed my boots about 10 times walking around the house, because they felt even smaller than the first time i put them on.

I reached the banha, knocked, and went in. Inside was a room about 5 feet by 8 feet and around 7 feet tall. There were wooden benches along the wall opposite the entrance as well as the one to the right. There was also a naked Dima. Well, with the exception of a large hat whose function i'm still a little unclear on ... all i know is that it was tall and looked woolen, so that it looked like a fuzzy wizard's hat.

I disrobed and followed Dima into a door just to the side of the one i came in. The door was much smaller (so that i had to duck quite a bit) and led into what may have been one of the hottest steam rooms i've ever been in.

There was a bench to my left where there were several large ladles as well as a number of soaps and shampoos. On the floor in front of this bench there were two large buckets full of water and two wooden stools. The wall across from the door i'd come in had a large multi-tiered bench which stood about 4 feet high at its tallest point. Across from that (and directly to my right) was a huge, cylindrical metal furnace with a square outcropping on its right side.

Dima took a ladle of water from the square on the right side of the furnace (which was apparently for warming water) and tossed it into the furnace. The room became perceptibly hotter. Dima took another ladle and tossed it in. The room became really freaking hot. Dima asked if it was OK or if he should put more, and of course (because i'm crazy) i said "Go ahead one more time."

As the water on the last ladle was tossed into the furnace, (and i thought my flesh would melt) Dima told me to lie on the top-most level of the bench i'd mentioned earlier. He explained that this was because it was hottest there, since it was high up and directly across from the opening in the furnace.

"Hottest? I'm not sure if i can handle any hotter," i whined, then got up on the bench, where Dima told me to lie face down. As i lay down (and became convinced that my children would have an unexplainable dislike of heat) Dima picked up what looked like an old fashioned broom with a very short handle. The difference was mainly that the broom itself was made of branches with leaves on them. I seem to recall remembering at this point that i'd seen these before, and that the leaves were very fragrant. That was about 2 seconds before Dima started hitting me (not too hard) with the ... well ... whatever it was. When he was done, he handed me the contraption and i did my front.

After that we hung out for a little bit, then went back out into the changing room. Dima explained that you normally do this many times - go in, overheat, go out, cool down. We ended up going through this process about 3 times, then on the last time we stayed in the banha and Dima showed me what the buckets and benches were for.

We each sat down on a bench and used the soap, shampoo, etc to wash off, taking ladles of water from the buckets to rinse. Once we were done, we dumped the remaining water in the buckets over our heads to finish rinsing. After that we walked back out to the changing/waiting room, toweled off, hung out for a bit, then dressed and went back to the house.

When we got back, Katya's family had left to go to her mother's brother's house. I was sad about that because i'd wanted to say goodbye and thank you for all their kindness and generosity. Katya's father had even cleaned all my clothes to get all the mud off them!

We sat around and talked and drank tea and ate a little more, then watched their wedding DVD. I'm not sure how representative their wedding is of a "normal" Russian wedding, but it was certainly different than what would be considered a "normal" American wedding.

There was a small reception outside of the room where the wedding was to take place. Then everyone walked into the wedding room except the bride and groom. They walked in together once everyone was settled in and were married by what looked like a non-religious officiant. After that, there was another reception for everyone to shake hands and kiss and hug. The bride and groom went off to take pictures after that (with a LOT of photographers!) and eventually met what looked like just their family at a restaurant.

Not too long after the video had ended, we decided to try our luck with the car and mud and see if we couldn't make it back to Izhevsk. We gathered our things and got changed, then made our way out into the dark outside. I decided that this time i would roll my jeans up of my own accord before we left.

Saying goodbye to Lima, we locked up the house, turned off all the lights, and got into the car. We idled for a little while to let the car warm up, then started off into the mud. Thankfully, we didn't get stuck again ... until about the same spot as we'd gotten stuck the first time.

To the left of where we'd gotten stuck, there were two wooden beams on several concrete blocks to keep people from avoiding the mud by driving on the side of the road. We cleared those out of the way (rules? bah humbug!) and gave the car a good shove. Dima didn't stop the car until it was well safe of the mud, and Katya and i put the "road block" back up.

Still feeling wonderfully good after the banha, but officially exhausted from the weekend, I silently lamented that this was my last weekend in town as we rode off to Izhevsk. As we went, we passed a wedding party on one of the bridges that we drove over and Dima explained that there is a tradition of visiting/crossing seven bridges after the wedding for good luck.

We eventually got back to Izhevsk and i finally managed to guide Dima to the correct road to get me to the entrance of the apartment. When the car was stopped and everyone was out, i gave Dima and Katya hugs and thanks for everything they'd done, and asked them to please thank Katya's family for me as well.

Reluctantly i turned away and opened the door to the apartment building, waving goodbye again as i turned and walked in.

The weekend was by no means over, but i felt like i'd just had enough weekend to last me for a while. And i mean really, are your eyes even still working?

I definitely have to mention that on Sunday Irina and Sergey and I walked around downtown a little and went to the zoo, then we went to Irina's parents' house and i was ridiculously well fed again. I also had the pleasure of Irina's parents' company - they're really great people!

Pictures of most of what you've read here can be found at my Picasa site - link on the right side of the page. (as well as right here)

OK, that's enough writing for now. Next stop on the blog train? My last day in Izhevsk and two days in Moscow!

The Trip Within a Trip

So this weekend i went to Yekaterinburg to tool around and meet up with a new friend.

That's pretty much the gist of it. If you think i'm long winded, you've now read pretty much all the important stuff. If you like to excercise your eyes, by all means continue reading :-D

----Part 1----
--Trams and Trains--

So this was my first major trip since i got here, and i was a teensy bit nervous about it on the way to the station. I had purchased 3rd class tickets and was a little nervous about what it entailed. Irina had instructed me on how to get to the station - either tram 1 or tram 9, but i was obviously still a little unsure. The last time i thought i knew what i was doing on a subway train/tram i ended up *walking* into JFK airport. ... that's a different story, though.

So i took my backpack full of spare clothes and food and headed off. The tram took about 20 minutes, 15 of which were pretty nervewracking because i had been under the impression that the station was much closer. I had also thought that Irina said something about "before the tram stop", and one of the stops that i went through was call "tram depot." So obviously i was not under the impression that this was some new store where you could buy trams, and i was worried.

All for naught, though, i got to the train station about 10 minutes (felt like hours) after that, hopped off, braved traffic (which is what you do EVERY time you cross the street without a crosswalk/light here ... well anywhere really) and walked into the train station.

The clock said something like 16:25, which was plenty of time because my train doesn't leave until 18:15, right? Wrong. You see, all the train schedules here run on Moscow time, which means that my train actually would be leaving at 17:15 by the train station's clock. (for those of you who need help on this one, let's just say that i didn't have as much time as i thought)

So suffice it to say that i was pleasantly surprised when i heard a voice saying over the intercom that my train was going to be leaving at 18:15. Awesome, right? That means i have more time!

So i go into the station, and instead of cutting in front like i was apparently supposed to (since i had already bought tickets) i waited in line. After all, i was in no hurry. When i got to the front of the line, the woman pointed at my tickets, and pointed at my passport, and said, in effect "They spelled your name wrong on the tickets. I can't accept these."

Once i'd blathered a few incoherent words in what i thought was Russian, she took pity on me and re-issued the tickets with the correct name. While i was waiting, i heard someone to my left a few lines down speaking what i thought was English. Once i'd confirmed that it was not just English, but ::gasp:: *NATIVE* English, i immediately piped up.

The following is an exact transcript:

Me: (loud voice, which means everyone within two blocks heard it)
"So where are you guys headed?"

American dude:
"Holy shit!"

Not only had he just encountered another American, possibly the first one of his journey, but said encounter had occured in Izhevsk.

This would be like meeting a man from Taiwan in Alaska. Maybe not the best of odds.

After i'd concluded the business with the tickets, I headed over to get acquainted with my fellow foreigner. After all ... i had plenty of time! So the above mentioned man's name was Scott and he is a resident of Savannah, GA, or thereabouts.

He was here in Russia visiting his wife/girfriend/friend (not sure) and was just passing through Izhevsk. (i believe)

He was heading to St Petersburg, which is where he'd flown into. Apparently he'd heard many nasty stories about Moscow and decided to skip it entirely. I seem to have had a little more Russian vocabulary than him (or so i thought i heard him say) so i can only imagine what *HIS* trip in must have been like!

Apparently his Visa would be expiring a few days before his flight, so he had to change his travel plans to skeedaddle before the fuzz decided to keep him around for a few more weeks. Not in jail, mind you, but he wouldn't be re-imbursed or anything.

Scott and i traded a few anecdotes about our experiences, and he related to me that one should never cross one's legs on the bus or subway. I have yet to discover why, because it was at this point that a nice young lady interrupted the conversation and said to Scott's female companion what turned out to be a very helpful suggestion.

To paraphrase: "Tell this young man that his train will be leaving in a few minutes, and he might want to go get on it."

Saying a hurried goodbye and rushing out the door, i realized (too late!) what had happened: The announcement was for Izhevsk time, not Moscow time. So even though the clocks in the train station said 17:10 (five minutes!!) it was actually 18:10. The announcement wasn't saying that the train was late - it was saying that it had arrived and was boarding!!

I ran past car 11 (my car) about 3 times before finally spotting the number in the window. I hurried on and started hunting for my seat.

This might have been an easier task to accomplish had i any idea where the berth number was on the ticket.

I walked back and forth through the car, focused intently on finding a number (ANY number) on the ticket that looked like it matched the berth format.

Eventually i gave up and hunkered down in a likely (ie empty) spot and decided to wait until a good time to ask, or a good time to pretend this was my spot. A man came by dropping off sheets and asked if i wanted one ... or something. I'm not really sure. (it was loud and he talked fast) I stammered out something like: "I .. uh .. ya ni znayo gdia ... uh .." At which point the nice man took my ticket, found my berth, and took me there. (long story short .... too late!)

The people that i was on the train with were very nice. After we got through the initial "uh, um, ni panymayoo" stage, they started talking to me in small words that i could understand, and we talked a little about what i was doing here, where i was staying, where i lived in the US, etc. I showed them some pictures and explained who all everyone was, etc etc etc.

I spent a bit of time reading and then tried to vault up into my berth. Vault is quite accurate, i think, because the unathletic and/or uncoordinated might find getting into their assigned sleeping space a bit ... ehm ... challenging.

As did i.

There was another man in our area, and he had the same problems as i did. I got the impression like even though he spoke fluent Russian (from what i could tell) he may not ever have been on one of these trains before.

So in all there were four of us. Vlad, Ludmilla, and the unnamed third, with whom i really didn't speak, but we shared a pretty hilarious secret between us.

How do two people who don't speak share a secret? Let me explain.

It was hot on the train. Very. Hot. I don't know if there were just too many people on there (there were quite a few) or if the heater was working overtime, but it was most definitely too hot.

I woke up in the middle of the night and wasn't able to go back to sleep. Vlad and the unnamed stranger shared my fate. (Ludmilla was fast asleep WITH A BLANKET!)

So Vlad heads out to go have a smoke, and the unnamed stranger and i exchange several "ochin jharka"s as if those were the only words in the dictionary. Then, as if connected by some kind of mental mooring which has arisen out of dire necessity, we both turn to the window, and stare intently at what looks like a handle.

After giving a silent nod to each other, he grasps the handle and pulls. ... to no avail. Me being the crafty sort, i start looking for a mechanism which might need to be activated to budge the handle. I put my hands over EVERY INCH of that thing and found nothing.

We took turns shoving, pulling, pushing, prodding, jamming, wiggling, and even twisting every part of the window that we could find and succeeded not a wit.

Frustrated, i gave up and hopped down from my bunk. Burying my head in my hands on the not-so-soft comforter on my berth, i noticed an odd thing.

A sign.

This sign had a picture and three words on it. The second word was "window". The picture was of a man. The last word was "exit". I don't think i need to clarify at this point that the man in the picture was running in the direction of an arrow which was pointing to our window.

I stifled my laughing fit long enough to point this out to the unnamed stranger, and we both burst out fit to split. I'm amazed that Ludmilla didn't wake up, though anyone whose dreams can survive the inferno that was the inside of our train can probably survive a few uncontrolled guffaws.

I never mentioned the window to Vlad or Ludmilla, and as far as i could tell, neither did he, but every time we looked at the window and caught each other's eye it was pretty hard not to get laughing again!

I'll skip some of the more trivial parts of this part of my journey, but i want to make sure that i point out how friendly all three of the people i sat with were, and how i didn't feel at all threatened or frightened on the train in 3rd class as i thought i might.

Dang. I can't believe i've written so much and i haven't even gotten to Yekaterinburg yet. If you're still reading this, you either read very quickly, or you should go give your eyes a break. :-)

----Part 2----
--Arrival in Yekaterinburg--

Once the train arrived i was faced with another situation where i knew nothing of where i was or what to do next. Since following the crowd and then following my instinct has served me pretty well thus far, i figured i'd stick with that model and get going. Sometimes it's easier to get where you need to go (even if you don't know where it is) if you just act like you know what you're doing.

So i pop out of the station and head out into the cold and dark morning. My train had arrived after 8am E-burg (pron: yo-burg) time, but the sun had yet to make any real impact on the night sky. Turning to the left, i walked determinedly toward some neon signs. It was a quick decision, and not the best of ones. You typically don't want neon signs to guide you unless you know where you're going anyway. I continued walking in that direction until i was past the taxi drivers so i didn't look (as) lost and confused, then doubled back and decided to head towards the area opposite the Vokzal (train station) entrance.

The weather was not warm. It certainly wasn't as cold as it could be, but what with the lack of sun and all, it was a bit nippy - mostly from the wind. I ducked down into an underground passageway behind another group of people. I passed a few obvious tourists, but decided to stay my tongue. Even if they were American (or English-speaking in any case) they were heading toward the train station, which meant they probably wouldn't have time for idle banter.

Guessing at every step where i should put my foot next, i ended up on the main street, aptly named after the city: Свердловск. This threw me at first, because i'd forgotten that Sverdlovsk was Yekaterinburg's name, originally.

Finding myself on what was obviously a well-lit main street, i shifted my focus slightly away from looking like i knew where i was going. I spared quite a few glances at quite a few shops without stopping at any. Most seemed to be closed anyway, opening only at 9am. I tried in vain to find a place that would likely have maps of the city AND speak English. I'm sure they were there, or nearby, but i didn't see them.

I walked for about 5 minutes and ran into the beautiful Church of All Saints which even in the muddled gloom of the dark, cloudy morning, looked almost as good as the pictures had promised.

I took a few photos and walked up to a map in an information kiosk. I found the cathedral pretty quickly, then found a building close to it and figured out what direction i was facing, and then found the "You are here" marker. Except that the marker was IN THE WRONG PLACE! I figured i'd just keep walking along the same route, since a straight line is easier to follow back. It would be pretty easy to get back to the train station to meet my new friend Vera.

Vera's train would not be coming in until some time around 11:30, so i had some time to putz around by myself still. As far as i could tell before my phone quit on me, it was only around 9 am.

I continued walking and walked through a large intersection. Without really knowing or caring which way i went (i was starting to think of heading back) i ended up on a less-well-lit more residential road. Think "brownstones" in NYC. I figured i'd turn back and walk back to the train station to check on Vera's train.

Once i got back, i also stopped by a public toilet. I will leave out my experience - suffice it to say that it was quite ... um ... different. Not so different from France, mind you, but this was in a kind of store/port-a-potty. Imagine if you went to a QT and the bathroom stalls were off to the side in the main area. (not within a bathroom) That's about what it was.

Now don't go getting the idea that this is everywhere, cause it's not. I just thought i'd relate this one since it was so ... unique.

OK, so, off to the station. No news on the train, and my phone was on the fritz because of the cold, so i had no way to communicate more than bits and pieces with Vera. I bought an orange Fanta (which tasted different, btw ... more bitter maybe) and figured i'd wait a bit and warm up.

Once i'd warmed up sufficiently, i put my phone in my glove and put on my glove. I figured that this was the best way to restore the battery and phone to working order. (and, btw, it worked)

It had gotten light out while i was walking back and waiting in the station, so i decided to try my luck on the road which ran perpendicular to the main street that i'd walked along.

When i don't know where to go, i like to play a game i call "Let the green man tell you where to go." This game involves walking up to an intersection and going wherever the green man is. You might know the green man by his nickname Walk, but it's the same guy. So i turned, walked across the street, and kept going. I was now parrallel to the main street i'd been on earlier.

This was NOT a main street. It was NOT full of shops. It was NOT the kind of road you go for a stroll on late at night. (well, maybe if you know the city ... and you have mace)

I walked along, treading on a strip of my jeans which had been bound up and then come loose. (I eventually cut it off and now have it in a baggie. It is long and brown does NOT look like a strip of dirty denim... gross)

After passing a few run down buildings, a few apartment buildings, and what i think was a go-kart track, i arrived at an overpass which led onto a freeway. The sidewalk to my right led back into the downtown area, and would eventually hit the main street i'd been on, so i took it.

I was stopped by a young man and woman and asked something - in my paranoia i replied that i didn't understand and hurried along. After thinking about the words and question some more, i realized that they'd been looking for building number 20 on the street we were on and wanted to know if i knew where it was. I noticed the building numbers and turned around to tell them, but they'd walked away and were heading in the other direction.

I decided to play the green man game at the next intersection and ended up on another main street parrallel to the one from before. I passed a restaurant called the "CCCP Restaurant" which was in a large building opposite a war memorial. The war memorial was for the soldiers lost in Afghanistan. (i have pics of most of these things on my picasa site)

I started walking toward the main street i'd previously been on and passed an Irish pub and a hospital-looking-kinda-thing. Instead of taking pictures of either of these, i took a picture of a large archway which led into an uninteresting courtyard. Because that's how i roll.

I ended up on the main street again and figured i'd head back to the train station, as it was getting close to Vera's arrival time. I took several more pics of the Church of All Saints on the way back and got a shot or two with the stark contrast of the beautiful church and surroundings over the backdrop of large commercial and residential buildings along with a few smokestacks bringing up the rear.

I made it to the train station a little late, but the board still didn't list a time for the train. It listed a platform, though, so i couldn't figure out what to do. I headed out to the platform and there was no train.

My glove trick had stopped working on my phone - it was again rendered useless by its faltering battery. I was able to text back and forth with Vera enough to find out that they'd arrived and were buying tickets. I walked into the ticket area and found no one. Further communication revealed that they were in the building next door. I guessed at which direction to go, found the right building, went in, and found no one I returned to the main station, thinking she might come to find me. At this point i remembered that she'd said "2nd floor"

Getting there, i walked up to the second floor, but again found no one. As i was starting to walk back, I heard someone shout my name and found Vera and her friends coming to meet me. They were 4 in total - Vera, Misha, Genya, and Vana. (Misha and Vana are boys - short for Michael and Ivan respectively)

After introductions, we all headed off to the Metro (everyone wondering at least once whether i'd noticed that i had a strip of jeans flying around) and Vera and i planned to go off on our own and meet back up with Misha, Genya, and Vana for dinner.

----Part 3----
--New Friends--

Vera and i started off by going to the Yekaterinburg duma and a large statue of Lenin. We talked about lots of things, including my insistance that we speak English. Maybe i should explain how i met Vera...

There's a website called SharedTalk which i was tipped off to by a friend (Mary) from the Russian Expat club in Phoenix.

The whole idea of this site is that there are people all over the world who want to learn a new language or practice an old one. So you sign up, fill in what languages you currently know and which ones you want to know, and VOILA!

In order to prepare for my trip, i started writing back and forth with several people in Russia. I can't remember whether i found Vera or she found me, but either way we started talking. Vera spent three months in the USA last year, and she has retained an impressive amount of her linguistic ability, though she's had limited practice since she got back.

Once i got here, we set about trying to figure out how we could meet up. She lives in Tyumen, which we discovered is not really very convenient to go to from Izhevsk. The train schedule deposits you in Tyumen around 7 at night, and the train the next day leaves at 2 or 3 pm. Not exactly a lot of good "talk and tour the city" time.

I looked at several schedules and pretty much the only one that made sense was Yekaterinburg, which i found out about quite by coincidence. Another person i'd been talking to online, Katya, (who lives in Izhevsk but i've yet to meet) had suggested E-burg as an option for something that i could do one weekend. As it turns out, E-burg is 4 hours closer than Tyumen, on the same train line!

So, end result, Vera agreed to meet me in E-burg to tour the city with me and practice her English :-)

This brings us back to our time in E-burg together, and why i insisted that we speak English. I figure I get practice speaking Russian every day, so it wouldn't make sense to speak Russian. I admit, though, that hearing her say and pronounce things in Russian was really quite nice. Maybe she has a slightly different accent or something than what i'm used to hearing?

So we walked around and tried to find the "QWERTY Monument" (i kid you not) and took in quite a bit of the city.

One of the many interesting conversations we had was one revolving around the holiday season in Russia. As you may know, the predominant religion in Russia is the aptly named "Russian Orthodox" branch of Christianity. I'll skip some of the more mundane details in favor of one that most of you will find quite interesting:

Christmas is on January 7th.

And that's not the most surprising thing, actually. What i found most surprising was the tradition of the Christmas tree. In Russia, the yolka (fir) tree is decorated and done up just as it would be in the US, but it's not for Christmas - it's for New Year's!

Take all the tree related things about the US Christmas tree (including the giving of presents) and you have the Russian New Year's Yolka.

Christmas is still a holiday, but it's more of a family get-together day, i think.

We talked about many things (ie Vera is a Marketing specialist, but she currently works as a recruiter) and walked more than i have done in a long time. We passed by a circus with a few rides set up outside and had a go at the bumper cars, which was super fun! I was surprised that we didn't have whiplash the rest of the day because i kept slamming the cars together at full tilt! :-D

We stopped for lunch in an Italian restaurant, though Vera and i both agree that though there is a distinction in Russian between a restaurant and a cafe, there is no such distinction in the US. For example: Would you call MacDonald's a restaurant? Maybe so, maybe not, but the word for it is "Fast Food Restaurant".

In Russia, a restaurant is a place where you put on some good duds and expect a bit of fine dining. A cafe is a place where you can go and eat a quick lunch or dinner. But the food isn't restricted to just baked goods and coffee. For example, we ate at a place that in the US i would definitely call an Italian restaurant, but here it's considered to be a cafe.

So we ate at an Italian cafe and Vera gave me a great travel book all about the Tyumen region. I'm not sure what to call it, because even though in the US every state is a "state", in Russia, they might be a "Republic" or an "Oblast", etc. In either case, the book is all in Russian, but i'm excited to try my hand at reading it, especially since i wasn't able to visit Tyumen.

We split a (small in the US) pizza with salmon and several dollops of a very yummy and very creamy cheese. I would guess that it was goat cheese? Not sure. I ordered cream of mushroom soup (soup of the day) and a coffee with Irish cream and Vera had a chai. I really should point out that when i say "I ordered" it really means that i told Vera what i wanted in advance and she had to do the work :-D

We chatted, warmed up from the cool street, rested our feet a bit, and looked at the pictures i'd brought with me of my family and friends. After we were good and ready, we struck off into the street again.

After a while, we decided to stop by a liquor store and pick up a "Jaguar" (energy drink) for her, and a Bud for me. Yes. A Bud. There was no Bud Light or I guarantee i would have gotten that instead :-) It's not that i wanted American beer - i've already tried several Russian ones and liked them quite a bit. It was that i wanted to know what American beer tasted like here in Russia.

I think i already related how different Guiness was, and if i didn't then i just did. :-) Bud was definitely a little different but not much. Though admittedly i mostly drink Bud Light, so i'm not too familiar with how Budweiser usually tastes.

We stopped for a while and chatted and listened to music as we drank on a bench on the street. (no paper bag, and Vera opened my bottle on a post for me) Vera and i share an unhealthy obsession with Sting, so she shared a version of "Shape of my Heart" which i'd never heard, as well as a few songs in Russian.

As we abandoned our bench and started looking for the restaurant where we would eventually meet Vera's friends for dinner, our conversation flipped from topic to topic (as all good conversations do) including the differences between American and Russian humor, my trip thus far, jobs, world economy, etc.

We failed to find the place we were looking for, so we stopped by a movie theater and sat on the bench outside. A woman approached us and asked if we'd be interested in doing some marketing research. Vera told her that we were just visiting, but the woman persisted. The woman said that if we had a phone number we could participate - to which Vera replied that we only had American phones. The woman seemed to doubt the veracity of this claim as Vera is obviously a native Russian speaker, so i chirped in: "Yeah - sorry, i don't really speak Russian..."

The woman nodded wisely and said "Ahhh..." then walked off. Vera and i congratulated each other on our brilliant performance, and eventually went off in search of the restaurant again.

Vera and i stopped by a mall with a fake wrecking ball sticking out of it (check the pictures) and glanced around a bit. It was my first Russian mall, but i won't go into detail because a mall's a mall'a a mall.

We walked into the Sushi place (Planet Sushi) and had a seat at a booth. (interesting, btw, is that Planet Sushi is owned by the same company as TGI Friday's according to the previously linked website) It didn't take too long for Misha and Genya to come along with their shopping bags, and Vana showed up soon after.

Everyone ordered Mojitos (Misha's was a double) and ordered Sushi, except Vana, who doesn't like Sushi. I think that anyone who knows me States-side would be amazed at how little i talk over here. Usually a complete chatterbox, i've really started learning how to listen more than talk. Of course it's anyone's guess how long it'll last once i get back to the US, but i hope that i'll retain some (if not all) of my newfound ability to use my ears more than my mouth.

As an aside, i think it's funny that i just talked about how little i'm speaking and how much i'm listening ... look at how much i'm *typing*!! :-D

I really had a good time hanging out at the Sushi place. Everyone at the table spoke and understood a little English, though some of them would never admit it. :-) I was able to understand what was being talked about most of the time, even if i couldn't figure out what was being said. Vera accepted the role of translator gracefully and generously, though she'd had to put up with my talking all day long already :-D

The sushi was good, though i only had an unagi roll (eel) which is rarely any kind of indicator of a sushi place, i think. I mean, it's cooked, so you really don't know about the freshness, y'know? I should have tried the salmon, but i guess i had a hard time thinking about all the cream in the roll in the picture ... i wanted little or no cream cheese. (and i wasn't thinking straight enough to just get sushi with no cream cheese or to take the cheese out after i got it ... sigh)

----Part 4----
--The Road Home--

Train time eventually rolled around and our waitress eventually brought the bill. To say that the service was a bit slow at this particular eatery might be an understatement. It wasn't that crowded, either, so i'm not sure what took so long. Interesting FYI: tipping isn't done off a percent, but as a flat "good job, here's 50 rubles" thing. I'm not sure about all the rules, but from what i understand that's about all there is to it. Good job, 50 rubles. Bad job, no tip. I think it's about the same for the taxi, but i think it's pretty rare to leave a tip for the taxi at all.

We walked back to the train station pretty quickly and i had my last minutes with my new friend(s) on the streets of Yekaterinburg. I couldn't help but get distracted by my thoughts as we walked along, wondering at all the different paths and opportunities that we all have throughout our lives. If you believe in parallel universes (as i am inclined to do) you might believe that for every moment, and every decision, there are infinite realities where the decision was made differently. For every moment, (not second, but moment) in time, there's potentially a place where everything is completely different - maybe even opposite.

I sometimes wonder about how a river forms. If everything is completely equal, then that river could have developed in an infinite number of places, shapes, and sizes. But all things aren't equal - the river took a certain path, and it wasn't all random. A pebble here, an incline there, a slight breeze along the way. It's not predetermination, but a string of optimal circumstances which form a path of least resistance. So the river wasn't destined to form a certain way, but it was more likely to form in one way than any other. (even if it's only more likely by a tiny margin)

Think of all those infinite realities and countless potentialities that i mentioned before as a boundless landscape, and every moment of your life as a drop of water. We don't have to live our lives a certain way, but there is a path of least resistance. This doesn't mean it's easy by any means. Ease of living doesn't play into it. It's more about living the right life than it is about living the easiest one. (Though something i do tend to believe is that the further you get from your optimal path, the harder life can be to live.)

Anyways, the reason i brought this up was that i was considering how different life would be if i was living in Russia. What life would be like if i'd been there for a while, or would be like if i were to stay after my trip was over. I wondered what it would be like to take the train with Vera and her friends to Tyumen instead of back to Izhevsk. I wondered about living in other countries. I wondered about what i'd be doing if I'd never gone on this trip.

I wondered.

I think that life is about having dreams, but also being able to see them for what they are, and choose only the right ones to follow.

And so i followed my path to the train station, laughing and talking with Vera and her mates along the way. I was getting to be late for my train, so i said a hurried goodbye to Misha, Genya, and Vana, then Vera and i rushed to the train depot. We found my train on the board, had a heartfelt embrace, and said our farewells as i backed away down the tunnel - the desire to go back for even just a few more minutes lingering in my mind until i was practically on the train.

I had an easier time of finding the right car and berth this time around, and was situated within a minute or two. I was sitting across from a mother and her sick child, and couldn't help bad for the kid. She was old enough to talk, but still very young - 3 maybe? 4 at the most. I offered some chocolate that i had in my backpack, but she was too sick even for that.

I decided to let the mother and her child alone. They were obviously not going to be entertained by any mundane attempts at conversation with my faltering vocabulary and difficult accent. For my part, i was still lost in the miasma of my thoughts. I took my iPod out, stowed my backpack under the seat, and hit play when i'd found what i was searching for: "Shape of my Heart".

I know the spades are the swords of the soldier. I know that the clubs are weapons of war. I know that diamonds mean money for this art, but that's not the shape of my heart.

I plunged myself into the music and only came up occasionally to swim over to a new song. I listened to most of my favorites by Sting including Fragile, Ghost Story, and Why Should I Cry for You, then anchored my thoughts to the opening verse of Brought to my Senses.

Alone with my thoughts this evening, i wandered the banks of Tyne. I wondered how i could win you or if i could make you mine.

The wind it was so insistent, with tales of a stormy South. When i spied to birds in a sycamore tree came a dryness in my mouth. For when without rhyme or reason, the two bird they rised into flight, and where the two birds flying i swear i saw you and I.

For those not in the know (ask Dr. Know, there's nothing he doesn't!) that was the song i sang for LuAnne on our wedding day. It used to just be a pretty song, but now it also reminds me some of the best things in my life. (which all begin with "LuAnne's", ie LuAnne's smile)

Thus we reach the end of the story. Nothing terribly exciting happened between when i woke up and when i arrived in Izhevsk. I got home safe and sound, crawled onto the couch, and had a nap for a few hours before starting to write this blog.

I think that this trip will be with me for a long time... maybe forever. I have Vera to thank for that, and for the fact that every time i look back on my trip to Yekaterinburg it will be fondly, and with great longing.

Fin.

Cute and Cuddly Kids

I think that one of the nicest things about working with young kids is that you really feel like they listen to you as if you know what you're talking about. As we get older, maybe we get more cynical, maybe we get more self-conscious... maybe we just get more self-absorbed.

Either way, i have to say that working with the young children of the 4th grade is one of my great delights here. They're unabashedly open and inquisitive, don't get frustrated with an inability to communicate, and well ... they're just so darned cute!

When i was leaving the school today there were three of the kids from the 4th grade outside talking. They must have seen me leaving through the window, because as soon as i got outside they yelled "Chris!" (I was introduced as Chris, so it stuck) One of the girls ran up and gave me a hug and they all started talking and asking questions.

We talked (ok ok, i mostly said "i don't understand" and THEY talked) for a little while, and then played a little with the snow and chased each other around. Then i tried to leave. I say tried because this proved difficult!

The little girl who came to give me a hug has fairly recently been orphaned, and she's being taked care of by her babushka - her grandmother. (I always thought that was just a cute name for "granny!") So she's very grabby and clingy with me - maybe because i indulge her and don't yell at her like maybe i should. The problem is that 1) i let kids get away with murder, and 2) i would have no idea what to say in Russian. I mean, "Stop" is pretty universal, but how do you soften the blow? I'm not one to hurt a kid's feelings because i'd rather go home than sit and chat.

So anyways, it was difficult prying her off of me, but with the help of the other two kids they all went to her house and i went off to my own.

I really wish i'd taken a picture, but the mental image i'll always have in my head (i hope) of those three kids is way better than any picture would be.

I started thinking today about coming back to Izhevsk to teach again. But at the same time, i think it's easier to come back to the same thing than it is to find something new. There are kids all over the world that need help - need guidance and a rolemodel.

Maybe i can't be either of those things, but i'm sure as hell gonna have to try as soon as LuAnne and i have kids of our own.

It's not that i'm considering being a teacher (any more than i have in the past) but i can't help acknowledging that it's something i think i'd like to do, and something i think i'd be good at. ... well ... eventually. No one starts off as a good teacher, and i'm certainly not under the impression that i'd be breaking that mold.

But still ... i do wonder. The really tough part, i think, is what do you do when you love to do so much? You can't change jobs as frequently as you change your mind, y'know? The real problem is how do you reconcile those feelings? I know that i do my job well, and that i really enjoy it. But what about fulfillment? What about at the end of the road, when i look back? Will i be proud to say "My name was Christian M. Macy. I was a good problem solver for a large corporation. I raised my kids and supported my family by ensuring that product was purchased low and sold high and that the trucks always kept moving."

I don't want that to be my legacy. I think that even though none of us deserve or get a movie-script ending, we at least deserve a plot that keeps people rivited enough to not answer their phone in the theater.

If i will not become the greatest of men to the world, let me still become the greatest of men to myself.

--insert w00talicious title here--

So i haven't posted in a few days ... let me catch you up!

It snowed for two days straight (Thursday and Friday) and then on Saturday it warmed back up to 0c (32f) and all the snow started melting again. In fact, as i look outside right now it's almost all gone :-(

Ah well, this gives me a chance to take some pictures without snow so that y'all can get an idea of what Izhevsk might look like in the fall instead of the winter :-D

Pretty soon i think we'll be heading out to go to Irina's family's place, btw, so this might be a short blog.

So yeah, let's see ... on Thursday night i got to hang out with Ivan, who i met through the volunteer whose enthusiasm about the program inspired me to choose the Svezhy Veter program over the other volunteer programs i found on the interwebs.

We started off at a place called the "Reading Room", which is an "Irish pub" right off the central square. I don't know why i'm putting "Irish pub" in quotes, when even in the US all i've ever been to is "Irish pubs". Maybe some day i'll go to Ireland and i can go to an actual Irish pub.

So then we went to a bar that i think is called "Friday's" or "Friday", but i'm not sure. It was pretty good - I had a good time and tried a couple of beers throughout the night. I also got to meet Oleg, who's a pretty cool cat. The only problem is that he speaks very little English, and as you may have ascertained, i speak very little Russian. But it's amazing what alcohol and pantomiming can do. :-D

So then on Friday, Ivan and i tried to go to a discotheque (at like, MIDNIGHT) and we got turned away. Apparently they have "face police" who won't let you in if they don't like the way you look/smell/talk/whatever. So ... i'm pretty sure it was me that they didn't like. Whatevs :-) So then we decided to just head to Friday's, where we'd ended up on Thursday night.

IT WAS TOTALLY DIFFERENT. The music was THUMPING and there were folks all getting down on the dancefloor. Also, there were topless girls dancing on the stage. This was not a strip club, it was a bar. Just a bar. And there were topless girls. For the life of me, i can't figure out why more American college boys don't try to come to Russia for Spring Break :-D

So that was pretty fun, but the highlight of the night was definitely when i had Absinthe. Yes, Absinthe. I may not know how to spell it, but i now know how to drink it. The guy put it in a cognac glass and LIT IT ON FIRE. After it had warmed up sufficiently, he cupped the glass to put it out, emptied the drink into another glass, then flipped the original glass upside down with a straw sticking out of it.

So what i had to do was drink the Absinthe, then breathe through the straw. This was difficult. Very difficult. It was like trying to breathe ... well ... fire. Freaking fire. But i managed after a bit. It didn't really hit me very hard, and i'd already had a few drinks, so i guess maybe it's just an experience thing. But either way it was pretty neato :-)

So then yesterday we went to the Kalashnikov Museum. I took plenty of pictures, so head over to the picture site when you get a chance. The cathedral is just outside and it looked absolutely amazing at night. The museum itself was pretty interesting, especially since there was also an exhibit on life during the Czarist period.

OK, so i think i've given you enough fun. Oh, but one last thing - there was totally a firing range inside the basement of the museum. I mean, it IS a gun museum, so that makes sense :-D

OK, gtg. C ya l8r allig8tr.

Listening to the piano do its thing...

Irina is practicing on the piano, and i have to tell you it sounds really amazing. I had forgotten how much i could enjoy the sound of the piano. I'm trying to figure out if i know how to say "Please keep playing." :-)

Not a big post today. Things have been going well. I went to the theater yesterday with Tatiana, Irina, and a bunch of the students. We watched a musical about a group of people where the women got tired of the men drinking all day and them having to cook and clean, so they up and left. The men of course tried to do the work, but failed miserably. Then they find them and apologize and everyone is happy ... Hollywood ending :-D

Classes have been going well. I am really just working with Tatiana and helping in whatever way she asks ... like a teacher's assistant, basically. I go into the hallway with the kids and work with them on different stuff. Some of the kids i've worked with are really bright, and are really interested in learning English. (though the reasons vary)

So now i'm blogging, listening to Irina play (hoping she doesn't stop) the piano, and trying to get Rosetta Stone in English for Sergei. Maybe i can find a way to get it to all the other kids too. This would really be a great tool for them to use, but i'm sure it's way too expensive to make it part of the curriculum. Maybe i should ask Rosetta about that. I mean, educational institutions in the US are one thing, but in Russia, i'm finding out that they're quite another.

BTW, the food is awesome. Especially this "vinaigrette" thing. (think i talked about it before, but if not it's like, potatoes, beets, cucumber, all chopped up)

Wow. I am currently hearing the best version of "Fragile" by Sting that i have ever heard - on the piano. It just sounds so beautiful ... a little more uppity than the original, but more complex as well.

OK, well i guess that'll do it. I really need to try to find some time to be able to listen to my Russian lessons. OH, and so i still don't have a SIM card, but i will tomorrow. (i can feel it in my bones!) This weekend, Irina has invited me to go to her parents' house. Her mother was at the theater, and we walked with her for a little while after the show. I guess she didn't think badly of me, because after Irina, Sergei, and i got home, Irina said that I'm invited to go.

I haven't had a chance to talk to any of the people i'd talked to on the internet here in Izhevsk, so it kinda works out. Maybe next weekend there will actually be snow and i can try to go skiing :-) (right now there is no snow, btw, just rain. Apparently there usually is, but last winter and this one have been warm, so just rain)

As for the whole "cold" thing? Well, like i said, i guess it's been pretty "warm", but it's definitely nothing i can't handle.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaanyways. I guess i'll sign off for now. Lata flava :-D

UPDATE: I forgot to mention that i've updated my Google Map, so check it out :-D

First day on the job.

So i just got back to the apartment from my first day "on the job" at the school. Irina and I walked over to the school, where I met Tatiana P. in the Svezhy Veter office. She is the young lady who set up this whole trip for me. Tatiana P. then took me to meet the other Tatiana (teacher) who will be working with me.

We started with a class of 11th graders, who all spoke English fairly well. Everyone got a chance to ask me a question after Tatiana introduced me. I sat with 5 of them during group exercises (and Tatiana with the other kids) and we went through an exercise in their language book on trips. After everyone had talked about what trips they gone on, etc, the class was pretty much over. I really don't know how much of what i was saying they understood, but everyone was really nice :-D

After that i hung out in the classroom for a little while until one of the students could come back and give me a quick tour of the school building. I had a quick lunch in the cafeteria (not very hungry cause i had a big breakfast) and we headed back up to the classroom, where we talked until Tatiana got back. I think the girl's name is Anna, and she's very nice :-) She also has a discussion group that meets every Thursday and watches movies in English, etc. I'll be joining them this Thursday, of course :-)

The next class was 7th grade, so they didn't really speak a lot of English. I was trying to remember how much French i knew in 7th grade, and what things i could say that they should be able to understand, but i think they ended up understanding about as much of what i was saying as i seem to understand whenever someone talks to me in Russian. I worked with 4 of them on sentences that they had to make up on the fly and tell me about their vacations. (they just had a break) I then had to grade them. I think any of you who know me probably know how well that went. Tatiana asked me to grade the students to their faces, actually, which was very hard for me. I would, of course, have liked to give them all a 5 (which is 100) but i didn't think Tatiana would be too happy.

One of the really interesting cultural differences is how everyone tells me that here in Russia, it is better to be blunt. Which is a pretty stark contrast to my quasi-Latin American upbringing. (where "maybe" = "no" because "no" may be rude)

Another interesting thing is about introductions. No one's really been all like "Hi, my name is." It's hard to explain, but in the US we really introduce ourselves like, right off the bat. Even if it's just a five minute thing, y'know? I mean, maybe i'm crazy, but i feel like even though i won't remember their name, it's kind of awkward if i don't introduce myself to someone that i'm going to have any kind of conversation with. Of course i may just be jumping to conclusions, but i figure i'll call things out before i get de-sensitized.

People say "so" a lot. Not in English, of course - in Russian the word is "tak". But it's said a lot ... like if you finish something you're doing, you probably say "OK", right? Well here, they say "tak". If there is one word that i will DEFINITELY remember forever, it's "tak".

Sergei plays piano very well for a 12 year old, btw. Irina teaches music at a music school, so i guess it makes sense that she would also teach her son, but she really has done a WONDERFUL job of it! They have a piano here in the apartment, and so i had the great pleasure of hearing him practice last night. I'm sure there were mistakes, but they weren't anything I could notice!

So yeah, maybe if i make a concentrated effort to help Sergei (and maybe Irina, too!) with English, it will make my presence here a little less of a burden on them.

Plus, i know that when i was learning French it would have been a great help to have a French person living in our house and teaching me. (of course, i would have preferred a female of the 25 year old sexalicious persuasion over the 29 year old married dude)

Oh, and tomorrow we're going to either an Opera or a Musical ... we haven't really nailed that one down. Tatiana said both when describing it, so i'm not sure. Either way it works out to the same, though ... i've never been able to understand what they're saying in Opera :-P

OK, well, i was going to head out to explore, but it's getting dark. I think ... oh ... wow ... never mind "getting" ... it IS dark. OK, well ... exploring tomorrow, then :-D

Tak, catch ya on the flip side :-D

First Post from Russia

So I made it through 16 hours on a plane, 18 hours in a train, and finished it off with a few minutes in an automobile :-)

I'm alive and well here in Izhevsk, and i've been chatting with and getting to know my host family. I should probably mention that my inability to really speak much (OK, *any*) Russian has obviously gotten in the way.

I've managed to survive fairly well so far, but i'm feeling like a big inconvenience to Irina and Sergei, my host *mom* and her son.

It probably doesn't help matters that i'm completely gone, mentally. I really haven't gotten anywhere near enough sleep, and even though i've had quite a bit in the last few hours, nowhere near enough water.

I've already had two wonderful meals with my temporary family, and both have been simple, but great :-) My favorite so far is this "vinaigrette" that Irina made that is really a "Beet, Cucumber, and Potatoes Salad". It's freakin' awesome :-D

I have taken a pretty thorough account of my travels using my little recorder, so hopefully i'll find a way to post it soon. If not, here is the long and short of what's happened involving me so far:

+Got on the plane to Chicago and arrived there on time.
+Got nailed at the exchange counter for a some of money that i'm sure is not quite worth what i paid.
+Plane got delayed due to a "galley malfunction". Which probably means a coffee pot problem.
+Plane got to Moscow early.
+Picked up some extra cash after figuring out (by blind luck) what the ATM machines looked like vs. the exchange machines.
+Used some more blind luck to find, buy a ticket for, and board the express train into Moscow.
+Used up the rest of my blind luck successfully navigating the Moscow subway system mostly by instinct.
+Found the train station just a little bit outside of the metro station and headed in.
+I was pretty severely early, and i ended up waiting a long time for my train.
+Took an absurd amount of pics and vids while on the train and had an awesome older lady who understood no English for a bunk mate.
+Got pretty much no sleep because of jet lag, caffeine, and a bumpy ride.
+And now i'm here!

If you want to check out the pics and vids i've got, head on over to my Picasa Web page (linked to the right) and have fun :-)

Sorry if some of them seem a bit repetitive, but i figured better too many than too little! :-D

NEways, i'm totally exhausted. I've actually started finishing different words than i had started writing.

Well, Catch y'all on the flip side :-D

Heading off to Russia

Well, the time has finally come! I'll be heading out to the airport around 8 am, and off to Russia at 11:10.

I decided that the best way to avoid jetlag was to beat it at its own game, so i've stayed up all night (got to watch Quantum of Solace as part of the bargain) and i figured i'd pop off a quick blog before i forget :-)

I actually did a Google Map of where i'll be going. Click here to check it out :-)

Assuming that all goes according to plan, i should be in Izhevsk by Sunday around 12pm (11pm on Sat, phx time) and I start teaching on Monday!

For better or worse, this trip is (almost) officially on its way!

Wow - i totally didn't blog in 5 months ...

So here's the big thing that's going on in my life: (figured i'd start with that!)

I'm going to Russia for a month! I'm going to be teaching English and living with a host family in a city called Izhevsk - i can't wait! :-D

The program is through a company called Svezhy Veter and basically sets you up to teach English and maybe another subject at a local school. I had kinda wanted to work with small businesses to really use my MBA, but I couldn't really find anything. In the end, i ended up having an e-mail conversation with someone who had done the SV program and had nothing but good things to say about it!

My boss is being super cool and letting me have a month of personal leave, so basically i don't get paid, but i don't have to start looking for a new job, either :-D

OK, well, that's about all that i have time for now. Dear Diary, sorry i've been ignoring you. I'll call soon, i promise ... ...

NEways, wish me luck! I'll try to post pics etc while i'm there ... starting November 14th! AGH!! :-D

Wow - i totally wrote that.

I was just talking to a fellow alum from T-Bird and the topic of Das Tor, the student newspaper came up. I hadn't thought about the articles i'd written in a while - some are arrogant, some ridiculous, but some still ring true today.

Anyway, i thought i'd drag 'em back out into the light. If you're interested, here's the link:

Das Tor Online

You might have to register to read some of the articles in their entirety. If that strikes you as ridiculously annoying, i've also posted a word document which contains them all chronologically and in their entirety:

Google Document

[update: sorry for the errors in the document i linked - Google Docs doesn't seem to like the bolding and formatting.]

Value Chasm

So i was browsing through my notebook yesterday and ran across an idea i'd written down a while ago. It's in kind of a shorthand, so forgive the grammar! :-D (btw, comments are in italics, the rest is from my original writing)

-----------------------------------------------------

Things I Value vs. Things I Value Doing i think i was going to make a list of things ...

We feel upset about aspects of our lives that we either
a) Value more than we value the corresponding action
(ie: I value a clean house more than i value the corresponding chores)
b) Value less than we value the corresponding action
(ie: I value eating more than i value food)
c) Feel that we should value something that we don't (or action)
(ie: I should value work or planning my time more than i do)
d) Feel that we shouldn't value something we do (or action)
(ie: I shoudn't value video games as much as i do)

We spend a lot of time reconciling these differences and usually trying to convince others to value the same things that we do. To us, their lack of concern for the things we value can be maddening. To the offending party, it just is how it is. They're not being difficult or thick skulled, it's just something they don't care about.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Ok, i just wanted to type that up. The only thing that i might add is that the last paragraph about conflict between people ultimately comes from applying the four scenarios above to your relationship with others. You can just change the wording of the last two points a little to better reflect where expectations are coming from. In a large group, the group determines what's of value, so you might feel like you have to measure up by either valuing something more, or something less. In a smaller group, or a group where an individual has some power or influence, it is the individual that sets those "standards", and effectively shifts focus from self onto the group or other individual.

In other words, the last two points could just as easily read:

c) Feel that others should value something that they don't (or action)
(ie: He should value work or planning his time more than he does)
d) Feel that others shouldn't value something they do (or action)
(ie: They shoudn't value video games as much as they do)

Quickie

So i can't type much 'cause i'm at work, but i had to get this on "paper." I've had two dreams over the last week where i felt like i was at some kind of reunion, and this morning when i got in the stairwell at work there was a moment where i was the only person in it. I got this feeling a lot like deja vu, but different ... it was different because it was like i knew that the situation wasn't the same, but it felt like there was only a thin veil between where i knew i was standing, and where i felt i was standing.

Specifically, i felt like i was at Rippowam Cisqua, and i was late for class ... i was coming into school just after the people ahead of me vanished out of sight, and i was alone in the hallway. I felt like i had that shadow of a thought that i could just skip out, but i knew i wouldn't. (not only because i shouldn't but because i couldn't drive) Either way, it wasn't really on the forefront. Mostly i just had that feeling of where i was ... not a stairway in PetSmart, but a hallway in grade school. The smell - the feel of the air ... it wasn't that those things reminded me of it, it's that they seemed to momentarily conform to my expectations. Expectations for a place i haven't been in over 15 years.

I might edit this with detail on my two dreams as well. The first was a dream about college friends and the one last night was about grade school and a few high school people. (though in the latter my friends from now were mixed in with them)

At this point, though, i'm really just wondering wtf? What am i thinking that i don't know i'm thinking?

One small step for tiller, one giant leap for sustainability!

So it may not be the most impressive thing, but i finally got started on our garden today. I've been plotting (hah hah ... like a plot of land? Get it? ... is this thing on?) a garden for a while now - one that we could use to grow lettuce, tomatoes, herbs, cabbage, maybe even potatoes or eggplant!

It was an idea for about a half a year, and it's been made corporeal (almost) this weekend! Here's a few shots of the work in progress. I really love how you can see the shadow of the house elongating ... i was out there for a while! :-D

NEways, i don't have anything specific in mind for how it's going to look when i'm done, but i drew a concept design of what i expect the finished product to look like.

Christian

Just Random - Prepare for Excess Verbiage

Now playing: Darling Nikki - Foo Fighters

I was originally going to make this post about the nostalgia that hit me while i was categorizing my friends on Facebook, but now that i've had a moment or three to cast my eye about and let it happen upon what it will, i find myself wanting to condense my original thoughts into one succinct phrase:

"Holy shit. It's been almost 14 years since i graduated from grade school."

Now playing: Living Dead Girl (Naked Exorcism Mix) - Rob Zombie

It's really odd seeing people on FB and almost getting the feeling like they're some strange apparition from the ghost of education past. I can remember going through grade school, but i'm sure you know what i'm talking about when i say that it essentially seems like a distant dream that may have happened in some alternate reality for all i can tell.

Now playing: Dance With the Devil - Breaking Benjamin

Lolz, i have like fifty songs showing in the last ten minutes because i spent a bunch of time formatting. I swear, i type more than 2 words per minute! Though admittedly i *read* much slower than that.

There's a lot of things going on in my life but i don't know that there's anything i can make a really good story out of. So i guess i'll start with two quick reviews of games i've played:

Assassin's Creed is one hell of a ride. It may not be as "Oh, so THIS is the next generation ..." as i would have hoped, but the gameplay and storyline are solid. A very good experience overall. I like how they felt like they had to have a disclaimer at the beginning that said "This game was developed by many people of different nationalities and religious beliefs." Something like that anyways. The game itself is far from offensive to anyone (i think) and plays off of both sides of religious fanaticism with equal fervor. I just feel like the disclaimer shouldn't matter - someone who would get offended by the game wouldn't even take the time to play it, let alone read that disclaimer. No offense to the idiots out there who claim that videogames are have usurped mammon's throne and claimed the title of "Root of All Evil", but it pisses me off that the biggest vocal opponents of video games are those least likely to play one.

I won't get into that whole argument further, though - there are valid points on both side, to be sure.

Now playing: Shame - Stabbing Westward

Second on the list is PixelJunk Monsters, which is truly demonstrative of the PS3 incredible Multi-Cell Dimensional Rift Worm Hole technology. You'll see what i mean after the jump ;-)

The game itself is VERY low on rewards and has an incredibly steep learning curve. This game should be on the virtual shelf of every sadomasochist out there - it's way cheaper than all that melted candle wax, boys and girls, and let me tell you ... it burns.

Not saying not to buy it, mind you, but if you have a PS3 and you want a 10-dollar game, try this instead.

Now playing: The Ballad of Peter Pumpkinhead - XTC

Oh man, this song has perfect timing. Let me tell you a little something about Peter Pumpkin head: He came to town, spreading wisdom and cash around. He fed the starving and housed the poor - really showed the Vatican what gold's for. But he made to many enemies of the people who would keep us on our knees. Hooray for Peter Pumpkin! We pray for Peter Pumpkin Head!

If there is one thing i have to say i've always wanted to be, it's Peter. The guy who tells the tells the truth and makes enemies of the people who would oppress us. It's the guy who would make a difference in the society that he's living in ... no, the whole world. I think we all feel like we're meant to do something. I think we all realize that within every person lies the potential to change the world.

I've often thought about how to do it - how's it possible? How can you make people act towards each other as humans, not as animals? Because that's all we are in a world where possessions are valued above anything else. Animals. Except for the fact that animals know when to let well enough alone - you don't see a lion out there with a hoard of carcasses hanging out behind him and his bitches in the pool.

Now playing: My Name Is Jonas - Weezer

We've managed to convince ourselves that the only way to achieve the kind of "progress" that we have is to promote the ideal of "He who has the most toys wins." The reality of it is that we could still achieve everything we have today without sacrificing the majority to a life of servitude to the few.

I count myself lucky. I do. LuAnne and i don't have to worry about whether we'll have enough food to eat. About whether we'll have a place to sleep. Hell, we don't even have to worry about whether we could afford a second car. At the same time, i know that because she and i are fortunate, someone else is not. It's immature and ultimately irresponsible to believe that you could live the life you lead without someone else suffering for it. We live in a zero sum world - if you have more money than you need to survive, someone else has less than they need.

I've happened upon two books in the last few months that have really clicked many ideas together for me. Walden-Two by B.F. Skinner, and prior to that (but i'm still working on it) The Celestine Prophecy by James Redfield.

Now playing: Breath - Breaking Benjamin

Now before you say anything: No, i'm not joining some weird cult. But as a student of religion and, by extension, humanity, i find it intriguing to hear my own thoughts and observations echoed in the voices of people i've never met. In the case of Skinner, by someone who wrote about those very thoughts over 60 years ago. The two books tie into each other in the way that everything does when you're willing to let them. What's perhaps the most astonishing thing about Walden-Two is the ease with which it comprehensively applies to the world today. There are, of course, things which need to be factored in having to do with technology and the advent of the global village.

Now playing: Zombie Me - No More Kings

But realistically all those things have done is made it easier to attain the goal and maintain the lifestyle of a utopian society based on and groomed by an understanding of the human condition. It's possible to give everyone everything they need, it's just a question of how to convince them that that's all that they want. Just as it's perceived as better to have loved and lost, we seem to believe that it's better to have watched HD in your living room and lost the TV in bankruptcy.

Now playing: Walk on By - Cake

As to The Celestine Prophecy, it's an entertaining book which offers an interesting explanation or two for things that students of life and humanity probably have noticed themselves at one time or another. Whether you believe in energy or not, it's hard to deny the psychological realities and applications of many of the things which are "observed" and suggested in the book.

When taken together, these two books make it almost impossible not to see the possibilities. More importantly, i feel like they make it impossible for a person with even slightly healthy mental faculties to say "We need Peter Pumpkinhead." Maybe what we really need is someone to say "Screw it - call me Peter from now on."

All music info provided via FoxyTunes.

Our Honeymoon in the Caribbean

So here's the link for the pics:

http://picasaweb.google.com/xerotolerance

We haven't had a chance to fill in the captions yet, and we still have some waterproof camera pictures to develop and upload, but these are all the digital camera ones :-)

We also have some great vids, but some of them are huge.

I'm going to try to send out a CD of wedding pictures and videos as well as honeymoon ones. No promises, but if enough people want them i'll try to have it done by the end of the month :)

We have to get ready to go somewhere now, but i'll update this blog with a rundown of the places we went and things we did when i get back :-D

OMG Married

OK, so i thought i'd post a few links real quick (also on the side of the page) for everyone of the wedding!!

Feel free to go to:

My Sister's Pics

Sierra Blanco's Pics of the Wedding

Sierra Blanco's Engagement Pics

Scrapbooth Pictures

Thank you to everyone who made it!! We had such a good time - i can't even believe how much we enjoyed our wedding. You hear a lot about how fast it goes and how you have to really try to enjoy it and not get swept up in the craziness. I don't know if i succeeded in doing that, but i know that i've never had so much fun at a wedding.

Hopefully i'll find a way to get some vids up soon - enjoy the pics!! (and please remember to give credit where it is due if copying them - these folks deserve a round of applause for the awesome pics)

EDIT: Dave has some great pics, too - check 'em out!

EDIT: Also, please take a moment to vote for our vendors! We really think they all did a great job!!!

DJ/Videographer: Three Oceans Entertainment
Photographers: Sierra Blanco Photography
Caterer: Creations in Cuisine
Cake: Sugarlips
Reception/Wedding Venue: Harvest Groves
Wedding Planners/Florist: Cheval Events

There are a lot more categories to fill out before the vote counts, so if you can try to fill out the rest with something. I've included all our vendors, but it may not be enough. (they have a lot)

THANKS!!
Christian

OMG Pictures!

We got some ridiculously great shots this weekend for our engagement shoot. Go check them out!!

http://sierrablancophotography.blogspot.com/2008/02/luanne-and-christian-engagement-shoot.html

The Slow Pace of Technology

You know what I don't get? And i'll tell ya, i've been thinking this for a while:

What the hell is with technology? I mean, here we are, the year 2008. And you know what? Something is DEFINITELY missing.

No. I'm not wondering where the flying cars are.

I was gonna fluff this up a bit, maybe dance around the issue before i got right down to the meat of it, but screw it:

Do you know how we get power out of a Nuclear Reactor? Not the details, mind you, but the essential idea? Get this: We release a ridiculous amount of energy from a radioactive substance to heat water to and beyond boiling so that the vapor turns turbines.

We use HEAT to generate STEAM to turn TURBINES.

Are you getting this? Seriously, go check it out.

You know what that basically means? It means that we're getting all our energy from a freaking steam engine.

And you know what the whole steam engine thing was mostly based off?

This.

You know what they're building now? Fission reactors. Do you know what that means? That means that we're going to be SPLITTING AN ATOM to create energy. You know what we're going to do with that energy?

This.

I'll keep this brief, because i think you get the general idea. But one last thing before i go: Do you ever think about what's happening in your car? Gas is exploding. A lot. A lot of gas is exploding a lot. IN YOU CAR. Do you know what we're doing with the energy from those little explosions?

Well there's no water involved, but basically...

This.

You'd think that maybe we'd build a fucking homage to the Water Wheel. We could call it, The Statue of Energy.

I know - stupid rant. Don't even get me STARTED on airplanes.

Christian

Hello? Is this thing on?

You know what i haven't done in a long time? Blogged. So i figured i'd sit down and tell y'all a little of what's going on lately.

WEDDING
As you may or may not know, i'm getting married - w00t to that! Wedding plans are complete and all that's left is the little things, so we're essentially gtg! It's pretty dang exciting to have the big day coming up ... more so to know that our "new life" together starts in a little over 4 weeks!

It's also interesting how little i actually anticipate our lives will change. I mean really - we've been living together for a while now, and i really can't see us doing anything terribly differently after all is said and done.

CLOVERFIELD
We just watched cloverfield tonight, btw, and it was hella good. i've seen some pretty negative reviews out there, and i really have to wonger wtf they're thinking. i mean, this isn't oscar material - i don't think it's meant to be. It ALSO is not the average monster flick. This is very much about a group of friends who find themselves mixed up in a panicky mass of pounding feet and terrified screaming.

What do you do in that situation? I guess ultimately you do the best you can - you cling to something you know, or think you know, and hold on as long as you can. Sometimes that thing helps you persevere ... sometimes it's ripped savagely away from you as tears of mad frustration roll down your face to join with the anguished cries of terror and denial emanating from somewhere deep in your soul.

Not that that happens, i'm just saying.

SPIRALFROG
BTW, if you haven't heard of it, there's a great new site out there called Spiralfrog that has a few agreements with some key record companies that lets them provide you with a decent variety of artists and albums for your LEGAL downloading pleasure. Unfortunately, the files are all DRM'd to hell, so you can only copy them to a portable device. Fortunately, there are ways around that. Of course, i don't recommend it or endorse it ... i'm just sayin'. ;-)

SOLVING THE UNSOLVABLE
I was having a conversation today about everyone's favorite "root of all evil." I ended up bringing something up that i've had in my head for a while now: I read this thing a while back on (someone else's) Starbucks cup. It essentially said that we can't solve poverty by giving every poor person money, and we can't solve humanity's negative effects on the global environment by changing a few lightbulbs.

I guess there's a lick of truth to that. Of course, that's the problem i have with it. It really grinds my gears (ha ha - love that family guy) that what people are really saying when they say "I can't just give every poor person money" is "i can't just give every poor person money and not be poor myself." Of course, if people would just stop trying to have more than the other guy, this wouldn't be an issue! There are no poor people if there are no rich people, you know?

I guess the real problem there, though, is how do you inspire people to keep working and coming up with ideas, etc. I mean, let's face it, most of the advances we've had ... well OK, like, almost all of them, have come about as a result of a person or group of people trying to be better than they currently are. Of course there are plenty of innovations and changes instigated by people with the purest of intentions, but let's face it, without the right financial backing it usually won't go anywhere.

I guess it all comes back to a balance - same balance that rules everything. You can't have everyone want nothing, and you can't have everyone want it all. Ideally you have a mix that balances everything out. Preferably a fluctuating one which sets up a situation like that guy that keeps having to roll the boulder up the hill.

I mean, everyone would work a lot harder if they knew what it was like to be poor, but if they could never be rich, where would they go? So you need a kind of cyclic pattern where people have to produce in order to maintain their status ... kind of like a permanent middle class.

Wow ... this is going off on a tangent.

Of course ... that's all this whole thing has been ...

BTW, check out "Name of the Game" by Crystal Method. Awwww yeah.

LATAZ
OK, this is me signing off. I'm going to try to wake up for the spinning class at the local 24 tomorrow. It's fun stuff ... challenging, but fun. Who knows! Maybe i can even drop some poundage before the wedding! (riiiiiiiiiiiight)

NEways - lata gata. Catch ya on the flip side!

Christian