Disgruntled Italians, exams & picnics.

This morning I somehow made it to school a solid 20 minutes early so I went to the café on the third floor to study with Grace before our 10am exam. We were speaking our usual mix of pigeon Russian with English words thrown in when the woman sitting by herself at the table next to us says, "You speak English?" We said yes and she then asks, "And you like it here?" We were confused.... where? In the café? At Smolny? What? No, she told us, in Russia, did we like it in Russia. And we said very much so, we were liking things a lot at the moment. And this woman replies, "Really? Oh I hate it here. I've been here six days and am supposed to be here nine more but I can't do it, I am flying home today. Everyone is so rough and rude here. No one smiles! I am from Italy, everyone is so pleasant all the time. And no one speaks English here! They resent you if you don't speak Russian!" Grace and I just didn't know how to reply to this. It was kind of funny because just yesterday Grace, Louis and I had this huge intense conversation about globalization and tourism and travel and colonialism and conquering shit and, well, you know all that liberal arts college students academia bullshit. So Grace and I are thinking, well, lady, what the hell did you expect? Did you think Russia was going to be just like Italy? Grace tried to tactfully explain how she felt that it was just on the street and in the metro and in stores where people don't smile; most Russians just don't bother with the insincere bullshit with people they don't know or care about. But when you do meet Russians who become your friends and who do like you and care about you, they can be the warmest, friendliest, most devoted people. The woman was immediately defensive, apparently feeling like Grace was attacking her after she just clearly wanted to bitch about Russia with some other foreigners, and said she was sorry, she never should have said her opinion. But then this other woman who was sitting by herself at a different table joined in the conversation, agreeing that it was really hard for her when she first came here. I forget where she said she was from, but she also complained that no one spoke English. Grace and I were just sitting there thinking how funny it was that the two non-native-English speakers were the ones complaining about no one speaking English. I, on the other hand, was just plain annoyed in terms of the time period -- six days? Really? That's not enough time to give anything a chance. And only nine more days? Sheesh, suck it up lady.

Though I could see some of the woman's points.... or at least where she was coming from. At one point in the conversation she mentioned she is now 43 and traveled all the time when she was younger and never once felt like this in a country before. I wanted to ask her where else she had traveled, but I also needed to look over my exam materials one more time so I let it go. But the fact that she's 43 and maybe she's here on business or whatever, that's a totally different experience. We were all transplanted into these families, who, if we get along with them, become good friends and allies and Russians that will smile and laugh with you. I was thinking about how I am especially lucky to have Misha and Katya in my host family. If I had ended up living with a babyushka and her cat as I once thought I wanted to in Russia, it would have been a lot more difficult to get to know Russians may age. But with Misha and Katya, their friends come over, we hang out, and I have a pre-made group of cool Russian people to hang out with.

Anyway, the exam was all fine. One might even say it... went well?! And now I am off to yet another picnic, this one up on Kristovskii Island, kind of a farewell event for our 4-week friends who are leaving tomorrow.

Oh, and this morning on the way to school I saw a Yorkie wearing a black dress with pink polka dots and a ruffle on the edge. Ami, I know, I know, why are there no pictures of this -- but I yet to have the perfect moment where I have my camera out just as one of these fashionable dogs is wandering by. Usually I'm also just so distracted by the fact that it is a dog in a dress that my reflexes cease to exist.