1. All the mixing 'n' things was fine. It went well, even.
2. Then, for about 30 minutes when I thought the banana bread was cooking, actually the burner had gone out and the "bread" was just sitting gooey and raw in an oven full of gas.
2. Aired out the apartment for a while.
3. Lit the oven again.
4. Now afraid that the burner would go out again, I set the oven on "big flame" setting instead of "little flame" setting.
5. And it burned.
6. BUT, the inside of the loaf was still edible. Lauren seemed to enjoy it. And most importantly... Lauren is BACK and our house is warm and lived in and friendly again, yayyy.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
I never fully appreciated the luxury of online shopping until today.
So, as I've mentioned, I've been working for Bryan help reorganize and catalogue all the books/DVDs/CDs in our mini-library collection in the 416 office. Today though he needed me to not just tape labels on spines and make spreadsheets, but to go out into the real world and look for several DVDs and CDs he was hoping to add to the collection before I finalized and finished the work.
He armed me with an obscenely large amount of Smolny's money, all in hundred ruble notes in a tattered white recycled envelope (ahh, felt like something out of Andersen Insurance), and a three page list of about a hundred movies -- most of which had already been purchased and crossed off -- but at least 20 of which were highlighted in yellow which I was to search for. "Ha, good luck with that," Bryan told me. "Most of those are silent films from the 1920s that don't even exist on DVD anymore!" Thanks.
I actually had more luck than optimistic Billings predicted. I tried going to five stores, and at all three that were not shut down due to the financial crisis (these two stores had just been open maybe a week ago) I found at least something on the list. I was fairly pleased with myself, just thoroughly exhausted by the time I got to Smolny. Physically hauling myself around the city to each of these stores, then handing the list to the apathetic, annoyed people working in each shop, explaining to them about the films, counting out cash ever so carefully, making sure to get a "tovarnii check" (a special receipt) for accounting..... it made me appreciate the wonderful thing called AMAZON DOT COM so much more than I ever had before.
Though, I must admit, getting those dozen CDs and DVDs was much more satisfying than clicking "place your order now" ever is when buying used textbooks in your dorm room at 3AM. Perhaps the most satisfying part of all though was that all of a sudden I am one of the students who has still maybe not with the best Russian [or the best English apparently, look at that sentence], but who is one of the most comfortable going on errands like that. I could be trusted not to fuck up at the computer store buying the Anti-Virus software for the seven computers in the office, getting the right receipt, the right software, dealing with the kassa system, everything. And after spending all my previous time here latching on to friends with Russian better than mine (Adams, Philipp, Sasha in the summer; Ilana, Emma in the fall), it felt pretty damn good to be able to go about all these annoying as hell and exhausting errands on my own with the knowledge that if anyone else had come along with me, I probably still would have had to do all the talking.
And then, to really make today productive, tonight I finally finished cataloguing that damn collection so everyone can go back to checking things out slash stealing things again like normal.
So, now that means it is 10:00pm and I just got home not too long ago and am now going to attempt to make banana bread...... I think lighting the oven is probably going to be the scariest part....
He armed me with an obscenely large amount of Smolny's money, all in hundred ruble notes in a tattered white recycled envelope (ahh, felt like something out of Andersen Insurance), and a three page list of about a hundred movies -- most of which had already been purchased and crossed off -- but at least 20 of which were highlighted in yellow which I was to search for. "Ha, good luck with that," Bryan told me. "Most of those are silent films from the 1920s that don't even exist on DVD anymore!" Thanks.
I actually had more luck than optimistic Billings predicted. I tried going to five stores, and at all three that were not shut down due to the financial crisis (these two stores had just been open maybe a week ago) I found at least something on the list. I was fairly pleased with myself, just thoroughly exhausted by the time I got to Smolny. Physically hauling myself around the city to each of these stores, then handing the list to the apathetic, annoyed people working in each shop, explaining to them about the films, counting out cash ever so carefully, making sure to get a "tovarnii check" (a special receipt) for accounting..... it made me appreciate the wonderful thing called AMAZON DOT COM so much more than I ever had before.
Though, I must admit, getting those dozen CDs and DVDs was much more satisfying than clicking "place your order now" ever is when buying used textbooks in your dorm room at 3AM. Perhaps the most satisfying part of all though was that all of a sudden I am one of the students who has still maybe not with the best Russian [or the best English apparently, look at that sentence], but who is one of the most comfortable going on errands like that. I could be trusted not to fuck up at the computer store buying the Anti-Virus software for the seven computers in the office, getting the right receipt, the right software, dealing with the kassa system, everything. And after spending all my previous time here latching on to friends with Russian better than mine (Adams, Philipp, Sasha in the summer; Ilana, Emma in the fall), it felt pretty damn good to be able to go about all these annoying as hell and exhausting errands on my own with the knowledge that if anyone else had come along with me, I probably still would have had to do all the talking.
And then, to really make today productive, tonight I finally finished cataloguing that damn collection so everyone can go back to checking things out slash stealing things again like normal.
So, now that means it is 10:00pm and I just got home not too long ago and am now going to attempt to make banana bread...... I think lighting the oven is probably going to be the scariest part....
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
No, I'm not dead.
Yes, I'm sure you've all been concerned. I actually got a phone call from one Ms. Karen Bartels yesterday confirming my state of being due to the lack of any recent blog entries.
I must admit I am severely out of the habit, but also, I don't know.... this semester has such a different vibe from last semester that blogging is really off my radar. As I said in my last entry.... a week ago.... I really feel like I live here now, from being in this apartment. I do things like grocery shopping and go work in the office at Smolny on the book/DVD/CD collection and go to my classes and do my homework enough and have people over for tea and sit around in Meri's Middlesex sweatshirt....
.... Basically, my life in Massachusetts. Just. In St. Petersburg.
So that's why it's a little weird for me, or at least not my first instinct, to write long eloquent posts about what a thrill it was to clean off the stove top in the kitchen and then take out the trash and wash my socks in the bathtub and how I remembered our discount card at the grocery store so we got 10% off or whatever it is. The cooking thing is still a exciting, as I said last week, and since I last wrote about it, I have successfully made myself some kind of a stir fry consisting of:
1 green pepper
1 yellow pepper
1 tomato
1 red apple
3 pieces of frozen broccoli
chopped garlic
chopped ginger root
a handful of red grapes
sunflower oil
curry powder
kumin seeds
with white rice (2:1, water:rice ratio. look at me go.)
I've been doing pretty well on my own in the fending for myself department as Lauren has actually been in Ekaterinburg visiting a friend for about a week now. She was so worried I would starve, but I will still be alive and kickin' for when she gets back Thursday morning. I'm even going to attempt to make banana bread to welcome HER home but shhh that's a secret (hopefully she won't be faithfully reading my blog while in the Urals). I also did try to make macaroni and cheese with an actual cheese sauce, but as it is Russian cheese, it really doesn't want to melt, so even heated with milk, it still congealed and got lumpy, but at least it tasted a little less plasticky than when it's just straight up melted on top in a blob. I don't know, Mom, I just might have to ask you to send me some of those little packets of dried Annie's or Kraft cheese powder that comes in boxes of mac & cheese..... except there is always the concern with mailing small packets of white powder that you would then get put on the FBI's watch list as someone potentially sending anthrax....
Well, I have actually been doing some stuff besides domestic nonsense. And working. Classes haven't really started up yet in any form, and this week two of mine were canceled, so I don't really have much "homework" exactly yet. So I've been spending most of my time going back through that damn library in the 416 office, adding in new books, reworking the system, fixing all the errors in the DVD collection that a certain Mr. Philipp S. Penka made while "working" this summer as the intern.....
But! Don't worry. I haven't forgotten where I am. At least not completely yet.
Let's see.
Um.
Well, I went to another art show this weekend, on Sunday with Carrie and Cathy. The show is called "Recycling" -- basically the only time I have or will see that word in Russia -- and is at the Youth Education Center part of the Hermitage. All of the pieces in the show is the work of artists made from old, reused materials. The reason why we wanted to go, besides being environmental freaks and all, is our print making professor, Yuri, had work featured in the show. He makes these beautiful paintings of nudes from white paint and glue on these huge rusty sheet metal pieces that used to be parts of roofs. It was kind of surreal and hilarious to see his work up in a gallery setting. Cathy and I had both seen all of the pieces before, last semester, lying around Yuri's studio, him chucking them to the side to get at something else, slamming them on the floor, smashing them around generally, and then to see them up on a pristine white wall with attractive lighting and a sign that said "don't touch" was kind of ridiculous.
What else..... we had our bowling excursion on Friday. Ah, Bowling City, just as snazzy and black light and full of new Russians as last semester. I also finally went out this weekend. Once. On Sunday night everyone was at Fidel and I finally hung out with some of the new kids in a non-school setting. Everyone was out on Sunday due to the fact that Monday was a holiday -- "Defenders of the Fatherland Day" -- which also is basically "Men's Day" in Russia. It's sort of like Veteran's Day and Father's Day combined, but drunker and rowdier. There was a parade of some sorts, but I slept through it, only hearing a couple of police sirens and such through my window, floating in from Nevsky.
Yeah, the long weekend was nice, but not really a big deal for me. I don't think I ever mentioned that I am completely in love with not just my classes but my schedule itself this semester. Yes, I have class on Saturdays and Friday nights but I never have class on Mondays or Tuesdays.... and only one RSL on Wednesdays...... so every weekend is a three day weekend?! Four day weekend considering how frequently printmaking gets canceled?! Yes, yes indeed. I planned much better this semester. MUCH better.
So. Yeah. That's it. I'm still alive. Even, here are some pictures of me and things I've been doing to prove it. Oh, and film photos are up from Europe.
P.S. what the hell happened to February?
I must admit I am severely out of the habit, but also, I don't know.... this semester has such a different vibe from last semester that blogging is really off my radar. As I said in my last entry.... a week ago.... I really feel like I live here now, from being in this apartment. I do things like grocery shopping and go work in the office at Smolny on the book/DVD/CD collection and go to my classes and do my homework enough and have people over for tea and sit around in Meri's Middlesex sweatshirt....
.... Basically, my life in Massachusetts. Just. In St. Petersburg.
So that's why it's a little weird for me, or at least not my first instinct, to write long eloquent posts about what a thrill it was to clean off the stove top in the kitchen and then take out the trash and wash my socks in the bathtub and how I remembered our discount card at the grocery store so we got 10% off or whatever it is. The cooking thing is still a exciting, as I said last week, and since I last wrote about it, I have successfully made myself some kind of a stir fry consisting of:
1 green pepper
1 yellow pepper
1 tomato
1 red apple
3 pieces of frozen broccoli
chopped garlic
chopped ginger root
a handful of red grapes
sunflower oil
curry powder
kumin seeds
with white rice (2:1, water:rice ratio. look at me go.)
I've been doing pretty well on my own in the fending for myself department as Lauren has actually been in Ekaterinburg visiting a friend for about a week now. She was so worried I would starve, but I will still be alive and kickin' for when she gets back Thursday morning. I'm even going to attempt to make banana bread to welcome HER home but shhh that's a secret (hopefully she won't be faithfully reading my blog while in the Urals). I also did try to make macaroni and cheese with an actual cheese sauce, but as it is Russian cheese, it really doesn't want to melt, so even heated with milk, it still congealed and got lumpy, but at least it tasted a little less plasticky than when it's just straight up melted on top in a blob. I don't know, Mom, I just might have to ask you to send me some of those little packets of dried Annie's or Kraft cheese powder that comes in boxes of mac & cheese..... except there is always the concern with mailing small packets of white powder that you would then get put on the FBI's watch list as someone potentially sending anthrax....
Well, I have actually been doing some stuff besides domestic nonsense. And working. Classes haven't really started up yet in any form, and this week two of mine were canceled, so I don't really have much "homework" exactly yet. So I've been spending most of my time going back through that damn library in the 416 office, adding in new books, reworking the system, fixing all the errors in the DVD collection that a certain Mr. Philipp S. Penka made while "working" this summer as the intern.....
But! Don't worry. I haven't forgotten where I am. At least not completely yet.
Let's see.
Um.
Well, I went to another art show this weekend, on Sunday with Carrie and Cathy. The show is called "Recycling" -- basically the only time I have or will see that word in Russia -- and is at the Youth Education Center part of the Hermitage. All of the pieces in the show is the work of artists made from old, reused materials. The reason why we wanted to go, besides being environmental freaks and all, is our print making professor, Yuri, had work featured in the show. He makes these beautiful paintings of nudes from white paint and glue on these huge rusty sheet metal pieces that used to be parts of roofs. It was kind of surreal and hilarious to see his work up in a gallery setting. Cathy and I had both seen all of the pieces before, last semester, lying around Yuri's studio, him chucking them to the side to get at something else, slamming them on the floor, smashing them around generally, and then to see them up on a pristine white wall with attractive lighting and a sign that said "don't touch" was kind of ridiculous.
What else..... we had our bowling excursion on Friday. Ah, Bowling City, just as snazzy and black light and full of new Russians as last semester. I also finally went out this weekend. Once. On Sunday night everyone was at Fidel and I finally hung out with some of the new kids in a non-school setting. Everyone was out on Sunday due to the fact that Monday was a holiday -- "Defenders of the Fatherland Day" -- which also is basically "Men's Day" in Russia. It's sort of like Veteran's Day and Father's Day combined, but drunker and rowdier. There was a parade of some sorts, but I slept through it, only hearing a couple of police sirens and such through my window, floating in from Nevsky.
Yeah, the long weekend was nice, but not really a big deal for me. I don't think I ever mentioned that I am completely in love with not just my classes but my schedule itself this semester. Yes, I have class on Saturdays and Friday nights but I never have class on Mondays or Tuesdays.... and only one RSL on Wednesdays...... so every weekend is a three day weekend?! Four day weekend considering how frequently printmaking gets canceled?! Yes, yes indeed. I planned much better this semester. MUCH better.
So. Yeah. That's it. I'm still alive. Even, here are some pictures of me and things I've been doing to prove it. Oh, and film photos are up from Europe.
P.S. what the hell happened to February?
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
What I haven't been up to:
Going to museums or doing anything touristy, that's for sure.
Actually, that's a small lie. I stopped by the Russian Museum on my way home from school last week to sit in front of the Filonov paintings for a while (the professor teaching my Russian avant-garde art class is the world's expert on Filonov), and then this weekend I saw an exhibit of old recently discovered Russian photographs of Southern Russia from the 1880s as the Russian Photo Center "Rosphoto," where I went once this summer.
Okay, so then maybe it's just by my high standards of compulsively always needing to be busy that I feel like I've been sitting around doing nothing, but I kind of have been.
I prepared myself so much for my first arrival in Russia in June, and then I prepared myself even more for my first arrival back in the U.S. in January, but I really had no idea what to expect of this semester coming back..... I was worried for a long time it would be really hard coming back, I'd have to readjust, I'd remember everything I'd been missing while I was at home, yadda, yadda, yadda, I'd go through culture shock all over again, but no, not quite. For as much as I loved my time at home for those two weeks, I just as much love that I came back, and that I am staying back in Russia until the end of June.
What I didn't realize was that coming back for second semester is entirely different than my summer plus fall experience. I mean, summer was definitely different than fall, and by the end of fall I definitely completely felt like I was some kind of living here, having a daily routine, not needing to look at my map anymore to get around, having most of the metro memorized, not even thinking twice about asking someone for directions or an item in a store, walking around without that continuous tourist paranoia.....
But that feeling was so much stronger upong coming back and immediately getting thrown into a ritualistic, normal, average kind of daily life pattern. Sure, there are still touristy kinds of things I want to do -- I haven't been to the Nabokov Museum yet, I've only been to the Hermitage once in the whole time I've been here (shhh, it's a horrible secret of mine) -- but it's not with that urgency anymore of feeling like I have a limited amount of time in this place, not a trip that is running out anymore, but just my average, daily life in which I want to fit in things like that. I think about going to those museums now in the same way at Wellesley I think about how I really ought to get myself into the Museum of Fine Arts during the weekend, or check out some photo show in Winchester. Living on my own in the apartment with Lauren definitely contributes to that -- things like grocery shopping and paying the phone bill and having people over to hang out and drink wine and watch Flight of the Conchords are all things I do in my regular life at home, in the U.S. Therefore, these tiny little things all add up and really make me feel as though I legimately live in this city right now.
I think the biggest thing of all that contributes to this feeling is my new experiences in the field of cooking. I was born of a non-cook of a woman who only learned how to bake a good chicken out of pure necessity (my dad tells the story that when he first went over to my mom's apartment when she was in grad school all she had in her refrigerator was nailpolish and strawberries), who was born of a woman who is a pretty damn good cook, but who hasn't cooked a meal for something that wasn't a holiday or a special occassion since about 1980. When you're seventy-five, you do what you want, and if that means eating at Legal Seafood's, so be it.
Up until this point in my life, I've always been living in some kind of situation where food as been provided for me..... my non-cook of a mother making dinner all through high school, the mandatory meal plan at Wellesley, my Russian host family kept me full for the past seven months, even summers when I'd be staying in my house on my own I would find ways for others to feed me.... a date at a Thai place with my then-boyfriend, finding my way to my grandmother's house.... when left to my own devices, cereal was the name of my game.
I realized though before moving into this apartment though that five months of cereal, three meals a day, was going to get old pretty fast, especially as Russians aren't really into an enormous variety of delicious, dry, cold cereals like Shredded Wheat or Fruit Loops. The only two kinds of cereal that Lauren and I can locate in the produkti down the street from us are Honey Nut Cheerios (which taste just ever so slightly off in their non-American-manufactured state) and Nestle Fitness cereal, both of which are delicious, but both of which Lauren and I have already gone through 2 boxes each in just our first week of living together.
This was not going to cut it. Lucky for me, Lauren is not only a very talented cook but seems to enjoy it (something I am shocked to see as so few people I know in my life like this phenomenon..... excluding my dad, who does enjoy cooking, but rarely engages in the task as he is "too messy in the kitchen" according to certain family members.) In my time back, Lauren has already made chili on Valentine's Day, banana bread to welcome me home, eggplant curry the other night when Carrie and Cathy were over, chicken teriayki before we went to Zach's party on Friday, homemade tomato soap with real tomatoes and no cans, oatmeal with ginger and nutmeg on Saturday morning before printmaking, and probably about sixty other delicious things I am forgetting. Our system involves a lot of Lauren cooking and me cleaning, which I am perfectly content with as she is keeping me well fed.
But! The point of this semester was not to find basically another host mom to feed me! (Though that is how we've starting jokingly referring to Lauren.) I want to learn this basic life skill, at least to be able to make a decent chicken for a group of people and some brocolli or something like my mom, and not survive purely on pinkish milk and Lucky Charms.
And! I am proud to say, I have started to learn this task..... I actually even, kind of, maybe, enjoy it...??
There was something unbelievably satisfying about waking up this morning and going through the following thought process:
Q. What do I feel like eating?
A. Hmm.... how about eggs. Over easy.
Q. How many?
A. I think two would be perfect. And a nice piece of bread.
Q. Do you want them now or after you shower?
A. Mmm.... now.
And then, having established that, going to the refrigerator, getting the eggs, making exactly two eggs, one piece of bread, eating it, and taking a shower. I have never had so much control over what I have been eating before, and I really enjoyed it. For the first time not relying on the whim of whoever is being so kind to keep me well fed, I could become a picky eater again like I was back in the day if I really wanted. Instead though, I think the opposite is going to happen..... it's kind of a creative process, this cooking situation, especially when you have two college/post-college girls living together on student budgets. You look in the cabinet and figure out what you can make out of stale bread, cheese, three cherry tomatoes, arugula and some pepper. Open-faced melty sandwiches? Sure, sounds great.
So, right now, I'm getting a little thrill out of this situation. I've already successfully executed some fried rice, macaroni and cheese "Russian style" (when you just melt the cheese on top of the pasta, next I'll try it American style where I'll actually attempt some sort of an Annie's-esque cheese sauce), a couple of forms of pasta, and several different styles of eggs.
What is especially interesting and entertaining to me, is when Lauren and I want to make something that is completely not-Russian in any way, shape or form, and trying to concocte it out of the Russian versions of the ingredients in the produkti that we find. For example, for Lauren's chili, canned beans don't exist so much in Russian, not canned beans as we know them. So Lauren bought hard beans, soaked them in water, and then threw them into the chili, figuring they'd cook with the rest of the ingredients..... we learned soon after that it's probably better to boil the beans a little bit first before adding them in if you don't want too much of a crunch, but we're figuring things out as we go. My biggest planned cooking challenge is going to be creating some kind of version of Nunni and Mom's infamous Italian red sauce for pasta out of whatever I can find in the produkti. Somehow I don't think they sell here that particular brand of Pastene canned tomatoes that come in those big yellow jars, Mom.
At this point all of you reading this are certain that someone has hacked my blog and that this is in no way the E.B. Bartels you know and love writing this essay. My dad is probably remembering that time I tried to make apple pie filling when I was little and used the opposite proportions of cinnamon and nutmeg, making a horrible, horrible mess of some innocent apples. But no, I can assure you, this is still me. Isn't this nuts though?
Could this homey little life I am leading in St. Petersburg actually make me some kind of.... domestic??
We'll see.
Jeez, take me out of Wellesley and throw me into one of the more sexist countries in the world for a mere nine months and look what happens.
Basically, in summary, I feel so damn settled back here already I find it hard to believe I only arrived back a week and a half ago.
Now, excuse me. I have to go write an article for the March issue of Counterpoint basically plagiarizing this blog entry. Hey, you got a sneak preview, look at that.
Actually, that's a small lie. I stopped by the Russian Museum on my way home from school last week to sit in front of the Filonov paintings for a while (the professor teaching my Russian avant-garde art class is the world's expert on Filonov), and then this weekend I saw an exhibit of old recently discovered Russian photographs of Southern Russia from the 1880s as the Russian Photo Center "Rosphoto," where I went once this summer.
Okay, so then maybe it's just by my high standards of compulsively always needing to be busy that I feel like I've been sitting around doing nothing, but I kind of have been.
I prepared myself so much for my first arrival in Russia in June, and then I prepared myself even more for my first arrival back in the U.S. in January, but I really had no idea what to expect of this semester coming back..... I was worried for a long time it would be really hard coming back, I'd have to readjust, I'd remember everything I'd been missing while I was at home, yadda, yadda, yadda, I'd go through culture shock all over again, but no, not quite. For as much as I loved my time at home for those two weeks, I just as much love that I came back, and that I am staying back in Russia until the end of June.
What I didn't realize was that coming back for second semester is entirely different than my summer plus fall experience. I mean, summer was definitely different than fall, and by the end of fall I definitely completely felt like I was some kind of living here, having a daily routine, not needing to look at my map anymore to get around, having most of the metro memorized, not even thinking twice about asking someone for directions or an item in a store, walking around without that continuous tourist paranoia.....
But that feeling was so much stronger upong coming back and immediately getting thrown into a ritualistic, normal, average kind of daily life pattern. Sure, there are still touristy kinds of things I want to do -- I haven't been to the Nabokov Museum yet, I've only been to the Hermitage once in the whole time I've been here (shhh, it's a horrible secret of mine) -- but it's not with that urgency anymore of feeling like I have a limited amount of time in this place, not a trip that is running out anymore, but just my average, daily life in which I want to fit in things like that. I think about going to those museums now in the same way at Wellesley I think about how I really ought to get myself into the Museum of Fine Arts during the weekend, or check out some photo show in Winchester. Living on my own in the apartment with Lauren definitely contributes to that -- things like grocery shopping and paying the phone bill and having people over to hang out and drink wine and watch Flight of the Conchords are all things I do in my regular life at home, in the U.S. Therefore, these tiny little things all add up and really make me feel as though I legimately live in this city right now.
I think the biggest thing of all that contributes to this feeling is my new experiences in the field of cooking. I was born of a non-cook of a woman who only learned how to bake a good chicken out of pure necessity (my dad tells the story that when he first went over to my mom's apartment when she was in grad school all she had in her refrigerator was nailpolish and strawberries), who was born of a woman who is a pretty damn good cook, but who hasn't cooked a meal for something that wasn't a holiday or a special occassion since about 1980. When you're seventy-five, you do what you want, and if that means eating at Legal Seafood's, so be it.
Up until this point in my life, I've always been living in some kind of situation where food as been provided for me..... my non-cook of a mother making dinner all through high school, the mandatory meal plan at Wellesley, my Russian host family kept me full for the past seven months, even summers when I'd be staying in my house on my own I would find ways for others to feed me.... a date at a Thai place with my then-boyfriend, finding my way to my grandmother's house.... when left to my own devices, cereal was the name of my game.
I realized though before moving into this apartment though that five months of cereal, three meals a day, was going to get old pretty fast, especially as Russians aren't really into an enormous variety of delicious, dry, cold cereals like Shredded Wheat or Fruit Loops. The only two kinds of cereal that Lauren and I can locate in the produkti down the street from us are Honey Nut Cheerios (which taste just ever so slightly off in their non-American-manufactured state) and Nestle Fitness cereal, both of which are delicious, but both of which Lauren and I have already gone through 2 boxes each in just our first week of living together.
This was not going to cut it. Lucky for me, Lauren is not only a very talented cook but seems to enjoy it (something I am shocked to see as so few people I know in my life like this phenomenon..... excluding my dad, who does enjoy cooking, but rarely engages in the task as he is "too messy in the kitchen" according to certain family members.) In my time back, Lauren has already made chili on Valentine's Day, banana bread to welcome me home, eggplant curry the other night when Carrie and Cathy were over, chicken teriayki before we went to Zach's party on Friday, homemade tomato soap with real tomatoes and no cans, oatmeal with ginger and nutmeg on Saturday morning before printmaking, and probably about sixty other delicious things I am forgetting. Our system involves a lot of Lauren cooking and me cleaning, which I am perfectly content with as she is keeping me well fed.
But! The point of this semester was not to find basically another host mom to feed me! (Though that is how we've starting jokingly referring to Lauren.) I want to learn this basic life skill, at least to be able to make a decent chicken for a group of people and some brocolli or something like my mom, and not survive purely on pinkish milk and Lucky Charms.
And! I am proud to say, I have started to learn this task..... I actually even, kind of, maybe, enjoy it...??
There was something unbelievably satisfying about waking up this morning and going through the following thought process:
Q. What do I feel like eating?
A. Hmm.... how about eggs. Over easy.
Q. How many?
A. I think two would be perfect. And a nice piece of bread.
Q. Do you want them now or after you shower?
A. Mmm.... now.
And then, having established that, going to the refrigerator, getting the eggs, making exactly two eggs, one piece of bread, eating it, and taking a shower. I have never had so much control over what I have been eating before, and I really enjoyed it. For the first time not relying on the whim of whoever is being so kind to keep me well fed, I could become a picky eater again like I was back in the day if I really wanted. Instead though, I think the opposite is going to happen..... it's kind of a creative process, this cooking situation, especially when you have two college/post-college girls living together on student budgets. You look in the cabinet and figure out what you can make out of stale bread, cheese, three cherry tomatoes, arugula and some pepper. Open-faced melty sandwiches? Sure, sounds great.
So, right now, I'm getting a little thrill out of this situation. I've already successfully executed some fried rice, macaroni and cheese "Russian style" (when you just melt the cheese on top of the pasta, next I'll try it American style where I'll actually attempt some sort of an Annie's-esque cheese sauce), a couple of forms of pasta, and several different styles of eggs.
What is especially interesting and entertaining to me, is when Lauren and I want to make something that is completely not-Russian in any way, shape or form, and trying to concocte it out of the Russian versions of the ingredients in the produkti that we find. For example, for Lauren's chili, canned beans don't exist so much in Russian, not canned beans as we know them. So Lauren bought hard beans, soaked them in water, and then threw them into the chili, figuring they'd cook with the rest of the ingredients..... we learned soon after that it's probably better to boil the beans a little bit first before adding them in if you don't want too much of a crunch, but we're figuring things out as we go. My biggest planned cooking challenge is going to be creating some kind of version of Nunni and Mom's infamous Italian red sauce for pasta out of whatever I can find in the produkti. Somehow I don't think they sell here that particular brand of Pastene canned tomatoes that come in those big yellow jars, Mom.
At this point all of you reading this are certain that someone has hacked my blog and that this is in no way the E.B. Bartels you know and love writing this essay. My dad is probably remembering that time I tried to make apple pie filling when I was little and used the opposite proportions of cinnamon and nutmeg, making a horrible, horrible mess of some innocent apples. But no, I can assure you, this is still me. Isn't this nuts though?
Could this homey little life I am leading in St. Petersburg actually make me some kind of.... domestic??
We'll see.
Jeez, take me out of Wellesley and throw me into one of the more sexist countries in the world for a mere nine months and look what happens.
Basically, in summary, I feel so damn settled back here already I find it hard to believe I only arrived back a week and a half ago.
Now, excuse me. I have to go write an article for the March issue of Counterpoint basically plagiarizing this blog entry. Hey, you got a sneak preview, look at that.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Happy Valentine's Day <3333
On the occasion of the celebration of romance, I'm going to tell you about my current love affair with the classes I am taking this semester. As you might have figured out from some of my frustrated posts towards the end of last semester, I wasn't 100% pleased with all of the classes I took, but this semester I already feel that things are going to be much better.
FIRST, there are my Russian as a Second Language classes ("RSL").... same old, same old..... except as I'm now in group 2 instead of group 4, I don't have to take phonetics anymore, just grammar, conversation, analytical writing/reading and SMI. Maybe this semester RSL will be slightly less tedious, as it looks like so far the professors actually listened to some of our suggestions in our evaluations from last semester. But..... we'll see.
SECOND, I am taking a video production class with perhaps the coolest professor at Smolny, Masha Godovannaya. This professor is pretty much the shit. She studied in New York for a long time and speaks both English and French and wears so much chunky silver jewelry and kind of jingles every time she breathes, and she makes these really cool films with old fashioned 16mm film that she hand-colors. The class I am taking with her is called "Kino + Video: 16MM Film and Videomontage," and I am already obsessed with it because it is a messy, hands-on studio art class, one of the only ones at Smolny. We actually are going to shoot our own 16mm film ourselves and develop it with chemicals (just like wet dark room photography) and scratch it up with sand paper and etch patterns into it and color it with home-made dies from various medicines and things purchased for the pharmacy (for example we'll use the Russian disinfectant called "zelyonka" to die our film green) and make film loops and video montages out of old, found 16mm film footage we have to go look for at thrift stores and stuff and make photograms on films and everything. I am so excited, I think the class is going to be awesome.
THIRD, I am taking printmaking again, part #2. We had our first class this morning and it was nuts because there are SO MANY new Americans taking the class this semester. Cathy, Lauren and I are the only returning students, and Lauren isn't even technically taking the class, just auditing for her Fulbright project. Yuri first talked to just me and Cathy about the artist book projects we will be working on this semester, using the techniques we learned last semester, while he teaches the new kids what we learned last semester. It was nice being there this morning, even if I was exhausted. The printmaking studio just has such a good vibe.
FOURTH, I am going to take Ershov's art history class on Russian avant-garde art. This class was supposed to meet yesterday afternoon but was canceled for whatever reason, but I am sure it is going to be good as Ms. Katie Keefe took it last semester and said it was great.
So, all and all a very arty semester which clearly means I am going to be one happy camper.
Anyway, back to spending Valentine's day with my roommate. She already made me chili for dinner and now we're drinking red wine and watching Chungking Express. Ahh, how romantic.
And, just on the occasion of Valentine's day, click the button below for rainbows and unicorns!
FIRST, there are my Russian as a Second Language classes ("RSL").... same old, same old..... except as I'm now in group 2 instead of group 4, I don't have to take phonetics anymore, just grammar, conversation, analytical writing/reading and SMI. Maybe this semester RSL will be slightly less tedious, as it looks like so far the professors actually listened to some of our suggestions in our evaluations from last semester. But..... we'll see.
SECOND, I am taking a video production class with perhaps the coolest professor at Smolny, Masha Godovannaya. This professor is pretty much the shit. She studied in New York for a long time and speaks both English and French and wears so much chunky silver jewelry and kind of jingles every time she breathes, and she makes these really cool films with old fashioned 16mm film that she hand-colors. The class I am taking with her is called "Kino + Video: 16MM Film and Videomontage," and I am already obsessed with it because it is a messy, hands-on studio art class, one of the only ones at Smolny. We actually are going to shoot our own 16mm film ourselves and develop it with chemicals (just like wet dark room photography) and scratch it up with sand paper and etch patterns into it and color it with home-made dies from various medicines and things purchased for the pharmacy (for example we'll use the Russian disinfectant called "zelyonka" to die our film green) and make film loops and video montages out of old, found 16mm film footage we have to go look for at thrift stores and stuff and make photograms on films and everything. I am so excited, I think the class is going to be awesome.
THIRD, I am taking printmaking again, part #2. We had our first class this morning and it was nuts because there are SO MANY new Americans taking the class this semester. Cathy, Lauren and I are the only returning students, and Lauren isn't even technically taking the class, just auditing for her Fulbright project. Yuri first talked to just me and Cathy about the artist book projects we will be working on this semester, using the techniques we learned last semester, while he teaches the new kids what we learned last semester. It was nice being there this morning, even if I was exhausted. The printmaking studio just has such a good vibe.
FOURTH, I am going to take Ershov's art history class on Russian avant-garde art. This class was supposed to meet yesterday afternoon but was canceled for whatever reason, but I am sure it is going to be good as Ms. Katie Keefe took it last semester and said it was great.
So, all and all a very arty semester which clearly means I am going to be one happy camper.
Anyway, back to spending Valentine's day with my roommate. She already made me chili for dinner and now we're drinking red wine and watching Chungking Express. Ahh, how romantic.
And, just on the occasion of Valentine's day, click the button below for rainbows and unicorns!
Thursday, February 12, 2009
SuperObama in Paris:
"Hello, hello!
Here is the photograph, as requested, of the Obama Superman graffiti that we saw in Paris.
Enjoy!
Sincerely,
E.B. Andersen Bartels"
"Dear Elisabeth
It restores faith in human kin d to come across someone that doesn't forget.
I was very touched to receive your SuperObama picture and I hope
you enjoy a few I took myself in Paris.
See you around a graffiti....
All the best and many thanks
Philippe"
Here is the photograph, as requested, of the Obama Superman graffiti that we saw in Paris.
Enjoy!
Sincerely,
E.B. Andersen Bartels"
"Dear Elisabeth
It restores faith in human kin d to come across someone that doesn't forget.
I was very touched to receive your SuperObama picture and I hope
you enjoy a few I took myself in Paris.
See you around a graffiti....
All the best and many thanks
Philippe"
OKAY, all updated!
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
The first of what is sure to be many photo update announcements.
So, you already know that the self portraits are updated through 2/9/09.
I got all of the digital photos up from Paris, Berlin & Krakow and a couple good representatives of my events while back in Massachusetts..... you can find them at:
portfolio --> travel photography --> one year в России --> in-between --> digital.
I still have yet to upload all the film from that amount of time, that will be under the same gallery, just in the "film" part.
Also, I have way many more photos from my time at home than the ones shown in the digital section of the in-between gallery. But in order to prevent creeps from oogling over Agnes or Wellesley girls partying, the pictures from our family weekend will be under the "life" part of my photo site (which you should have a password to already) or on facebook. Ok?
And I have yet to start my "spring 2009" gallery with photos of me and Lauren nesting in our apartment and stuff, but that will come in due time.
I got all of the digital photos up from Paris, Berlin & Krakow and a couple good representatives of my events while back in Massachusetts..... you can find them at:
portfolio --> travel photography --> one year в России --> in-between --> digital.
I still have yet to upload all the film from that amount of time, that will be under the same gallery, just in the "film" part.
Also, I have way many more photos from my time at home than the ones shown in the digital section of the in-between gallery. But in order to prevent creeps from oogling over Agnes or Wellesley girls partying, the pictures from our family weekend will be under the "life" part of my photo site (which you should have a password to already) or on facebook. Ok?
And I have yet to start my "spring 2009" gallery with photos of me and Lauren nesting in our apartment and stuff, but that will come in due time.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
What I've been up to: (continued):
So. The Gay Museum in Berlin. Really small, interesting little place that operates completely independently without any government funding. According to my tour guide, Melissa, it is one of only a few gay museums in the world. I liked it because it was mostly photograph-based, showing 1800s photographs of gay couples, just two men in top hats standing side by side, to fabulous, colorful 1980s drag queens.
Our next museum after the Gay Museum was the Berlin Gallery of Contemporary Art which I really liked because it was all art made in Berlin by German artists. I like it when museums have a very specific range of coverage like that. I also loved this museum because it was about 60% photographs, including one really interesting exhibit where they displayed hundreds of panoramas of Berlin taken after WWII to document the damage done to the city and to figure out what needed to be rebuilt first.
By the time we were done in that gallery, it was already twelve thirty and we were kind of exhausted of museums, so we went to a Turkish café and had pastry and carbonated apple juice and then Melissa & I took the Berlin metro (the "U-bahn") home and my mind basically exploded as I tried to comprehend how this turnstyle-free "honor system" metro could function. I tried to imagine something like that in Russia and all I could picture was complete chaos and anarchy and violence. I don't think anyone in St. Petersburg would ever buy a ticket for the metro if you only got occassionally checked.
On my second day in Berlin, I began to get more of an overall impression of the place. I liked Berlin a lot because it was the first place where I didn't feel like I stuck out as a foreigner. I mean, I certainly could pass for German, but also I wasn't under or over dressed, I just blended, which was kind of a nice relief after Russia and Paris where they see me coming as a foreigner a mile away. As for the city itself, Berlin definitely is not the most attractive city I've been in, and I much prefer claustrophobic small cobblestone streets like in Paris, but the history is so interesting.... I felt like such a dumbass as a Russian major not knowing really anything about the Berlin Wall and the Soviet vs. American power struggle and all that. Berlin was really educational in that sense. I was also just obsessed with how clean and environmentally friendly the city is. So many of the trash cans have four bins -- paper, packaging (plastic), glass & waste -- and Melissa's apartment does those four plus compost as well. Saving water and recycling and such is just a natural part of everyone's lifestyle there, and it made me feel like a horrible person for being so out of my good habits from living in Russia for over half a year.
On this Sunday, Melissa took me on a tour of the most typical touristy places in Berlin because everyone needs to see the good touristy stuff. First she took me to the "Mount Everest of Berlin," which is this tiny little hill in the middle of a park near her house. It was quite beautiful and you had a pretty great view as Berlin is so flat even though the hill is only about 30 feet tall. What was completely ridiculous though was coming down from this hill that had a little slick layer of ice covered and snow on it -- the only icy/snowy place in all of Berlin, as the rest of it is so manicured, after naviagted un-plowed, messy, hazardous streets in St. Petersburg and Moscow and Kiev for months -- I fell completely and 100% on my ass. This resulted in a bruised tail bone which is still a little stiff and sore at times. Thanks a lot, Berlin.
Melissa then took me to the center of the city and showed me all the main stuff: where the Berlin Wall used to be, Checkpoint Charlie, Brandenburg Gate, from afar the statue on top of which the angels in Wings of Desire sit, the Holocaust Memorial which is extremely effective and scary, in my opinion, the U.S. and the Russian embassies, and then we went to the top of the TV Tower for another night time look at a city from high above. All this also included a brief coffee and donut break at..... Dunkin Donuts?? They don't have them in Los Angeles or Washington DC but they have several all over Berlin...??? Melissa and I had hot chocolate and two donuts -- a Boston Creme and a Berliner (you know, a powdered jelly donut), which we felt were appropriate.
That Sunday night, I got to meet some of Melissa's German friends, the son of her mom's college roommate (who now lives in Berlin) and his girlfriend, and we had a little dinner party of sorts where Melissa taught me how to make this really good carrot-ginger-peanut butter soup.
As for my Monday in Berlin, my last full day, Melissa had class for most of the day, so I entertained myself. I first went to the Martin-Gropius-Bau which specializes mostly in having retrospective exhibits of famous photographers. Apparently I just missed their show on Avedon, but I got to see the Robert Lebeck retrospective which was unbelievable. Lebeck is a German photographer who worked for many newspapers, photographing both East and West Berlin and also being hired to travel to many countries in the world to photograph momentous events. He is the shit. He basically does what I want to do with my life. Mad jealous.
I then tried to go to the other main photography museum of Berlin, but it was closed on Mondays, so instead I went to one of the Berlin Wall museums which was kind of too touristy and cluttered and chaotic with stuff (though they did have cars in the museum that people used to escape from the East to the West in and talked about how selling diving equipment was illegal in East Berlin because of fear people would use it to escape), and I went to the Berlin Aquarium. I photographed fishes for a while, saw some rattlesnakes mating, and then headed back to Melissa's neighborhood where I bought school supplies ("If you're going to buy school supplies, do it in Germany," -- Melissa), went into an antique store and made friends with the older woman who worked there and purchased some little black and white photos of dancers and actresses that used to come in cigarette packs, including a couple of Marlene Dietrich, and then sat in Café Bilder Buch a little on my own, doodling with my new markers and waiting for Melissa, and then finally us going back to the apartment and just talking and hanging out and such until all hours of the morning.
BERLIN ----> KRAKOW..................
I left early in the morning on Tuesday 2/3 to ride the train all day from Berlin to Krakow. It was a long ride, but the scenery was quite nice. Snow and fields and such. What was ridiculous though was how the train actually travels half as fast in Poland as it did in Germany. Melissa said this has to do with coal mines below the tracks or something, but for me it was just logical as I was moving closer back to Russia.
KRAKOW..................
By the time I arrived in Krakow it was about 8:00PM and Emma greeted me at the station. We decided simply to get some pizza and talk and sleep and go out the next night.
In the morning, I went out on my own to explore Krakow as Emma had class. Krakow is so small it is ridiculous, ridiculous, you can walk everywhere and the longest it will take you is 20 minutes. I took myself to the main town square, which I liked a lot, in its Medevial style and cobblestoned-ness. I saw the famous DaVinci "Lady with an Ermine" at the Cazartoryski Gallery, and met Emma for coffee inbetween her classes. During Emma's second class, I made my way in the drizzle to the Wawel Hill area which is a castle and famous and stuff, took some photos, and met up with Emma again to go back to their apartment slash hotel. Her program puts up the eight students in the group in this apartment-style hotel place during the time they are living in Krakow and it was homey and clean and had an awesome shower. I certainly enjoyed my naps there.
True to our previous decision, Emma, her friend Ellen, and I went out to a Krakow microbrewery that night called CK Browar. We had a beer that was made right there on the premeises, but what makes Krakow completely different from St. Petersburg in every way is how early things close. By 11pm our waitress was asking us to pay our check. So we left the brewery and had a kebab (Polish version of schwarma) and stood in the main square in the mist and ate it.
So, my Thursday morning, my last day in Krakow, I got up early to try to go to the Polish Museum of Insurance, which is only open Tuesday through Friday from 9AM to 11AM. I felt I had an obligation to go to this museum, considering my steady career back at home, but there was slightly awkward miscommunication involving this museum which seemed all too appropriate. I found the place, but the door was locked, I tried to open it, and was about to turn away when a woman inside opened it and spoke to me in Polish and I told her I spoke Russia and English and she shrugged and told me to go to the courtyard or something.... I thought that maybe that was where the real entrance was..... but all that was there was an actual insurance company.....? So I gave up. But I got a picture of the locked door.
Instead I went to the National Museum which I really liked. They have a whole big huge collection of old knives and pocketwatches and other objects d'art and such, but they also have a ton of 20th century Polish art and they had a temporary exhibit which included Andy Warhol's work "Ten Jews of the 20th Century." I made my way back to Emma's place, napped for a bit, and then we went out to dinner and saw Milk at what is basically the Polish version of the Waltham Embassy Theatre. Milk was really good, the first time I cried at a movie in over a year, and I highly recommend it, but that's off the subject. After that Emma and I just headed back to her place to pack and talk and nap briefly before my cab came to pick me up at 4:00AM to get me to the airport for my 6:00AM flight from Krakow to Warsaw on Friday morning 2/6/09.
KRAKOW ----> WARSAW ----> ST. PETERSBURG ..................
This is where things get tricky.
Initally, back in the fall when I had been planning this trip, I wanted to take trains all the way back to St. Petersburg from Paris. I changed my mind and decided to fly the last leg of the trip from Krakow to St. Petersburg because in order to not go through Belarus (for which you need a visa which I do not have), I would have had to change trains about 4 or 5 times and it would have taken about 30 to 40 hours, so I decided, oh, flying will be so much simpler.
The cab driver picked me up at Emma's place, he was very nice, helped me with my luggage, Mom, and I was impressed by his driving skills as we made through very thick fog to the Krakow airport. Not really sure why I didn't make this connection, but, of course, upon arriving at the airport, paying the guy, getting my luggae, going inside, there are huge signs everywhere saying the 6:00AM flight from Krakow to Warsaw has been canceled due to the fog. Great. The LOT Polish Airlines ladies claimed they sent me an email at midnight that night, but I had definitely checked my email at 3:30AM before leaving Emma's and hadn't recieved anything and still have yet to receive anything from them. So, what to do. At first the only options they gave me where to wait at the airport until 1PM for a flight to Frankfurt from which I could probably get a connection to St. Petersburg or for a 3:40PM flight to Munich from which I could probably get a connection to St. Petersburg. None of this sounded appealing as it was 4:20AM when I was having this conversation. When the LOT office opened though at 5:00AM, the woman suggested I take a 6:00AM train from Krakow to Warsaw, arriving in at 9:00AM, just enough time to get a cab to the airport to make my original 10:45AM flight to St. Petersburg. And so, in a way, I got to enjoy trains one more time (though I slept solidly for the whole three hours I was on that train). What worked out really well though was a Belgium woman trying to make an 11:00AM flight from Warsaw to Sofia, Bulgaria, was in the same position as me, so we were able to share cabs and go on the train together from the Krakow airport to the Krakow train station to the Warsaw train station to the Warsaw airport and make our flights just in time. She was really helpful -- speaking English, French and Polish -- and looked almost exactly like Auntie Christine. I didn't even learn her name until we said good bye to go to our different gates. It was all quite a surreal experience, especially when I was back in my Petersburg apartment, eating banana bread made by my roommate, right on time at 4:00PM like I had supposed to be all along.
And so, I am back in Russia.
Clearly there are a shit-ton of photographs from all these activities, there are also a ton from my two weeks at home, and I am severely, severely behind on uploading, but don't worry. I have internet in the apartment. I'll be working on it.
Until then, here are the self portraits at least.
Our next museum after the Gay Museum was the Berlin Gallery of Contemporary Art which I really liked because it was all art made in Berlin by German artists. I like it when museums have a very specific range of coverage like that. I also loved this museum because it was about 60% photographs, including one really interesting exhibit where they displayed hundreds of panoramas of Berlin taken after WWII to document the damage done to the city and to figure out what needed to be rebuilt first.
By the time we were done in that gallery, it was already twelve thirty and we were kind of exhausted of museums, so we went to a Turkish café and had pastry and carbonated apple juice and then Melissa & I took the Berlin metro (the "U-bahn") home and my mind basically exploded as I tried to comprehend how this turnstyle-free "honor system" metro could function. I tried to imagine something like that in Russia and all I could picture was complete chaos and anarchy and violence. I don't think anyone in St. Petersburg would ever buy a ticket for the metro if you only got occassionally checked.
On my second day in Berlin, I began to get more of an overall impression of the place. I liked Berlin a lot because it was the first place where I didn't feel like I stuck out as a foreigner. I mean, I certainly could pass for German, but also I wasn't under or over dressed, I just blended, which was kind of a nice relief after Russia and Paris where they see me coming as a foreigner a mile away. As for the city itself, Berlin definitely is not the most attractive city I've been in, and I much prefer claustrophobic small cobblestone streets like in Paris, but the history is so interesting.... I felt like such a dumbass as a Russian major not knowing really anything about the Berlin Wall and the Soviet vs. American power struggle and all that. Berlin was really educational in that sense. I was also just obsessed with how clean and environmentally friendly the city is. So many of the trash cans have four bins -- paper, packaging (plastic), glass & waste -- and Melissa's apartment does those four plus compost as well. Saving water and recycling and such is just a natural part of everyone's lifestyle there, and it made me feel like a horrible person for being so out of my good habits from living in Russia for over half a year.
On this Sunday, Melissa took me on a tour of the most typical touristy places in Berlin because everyone needs to see the good touristy stuff. First she took me to the "Mount Everest of Berlin," which is this tiny little hill in the middle of a park near her house. It was quite beautiful and you had a pretty great view as Berlin is so flat even though the hill is only about 30 feet tall. What was completely ridiculous though was coming down from this hill that had a little slick layer of ice covered and snow on it -- the only icy/snowy place in all of Berlin, as the rest of it is so manicured, after naviagted un-plowed, messy, hazardous streets in St. Petersburg and Moscow and Kiev for months -- I fell completely and 100% on my ass. This resulted in a bruised tail bone which is still a little stiff and sore at times. Thanks a lot, Berlin.
Melissa then took me to the center of the city and showed me all the main stuff: where the Berlin Wall used to be, Checkpoint Charlie, Brandenburg Gate, from afar the statue on top of which the angels in Wings of Desire sit, the Holocaust Memorial which is extremely effective and scary, in my opinion, the U.S. and the Russian embassies, and then we went to the top of the TV Tower for another night time look at a city from high above. All this also included a brief coffee and donut break at..... Dunkin Donuts?? They don't have them in Los Angeles or Washington DC but they have several all over Berlin...??? Melissa and I had hot chocolate and two donuts -- a Boston Creme and a Berliner (you know, a powdered jelly donut), which we felt were appropriate.
That Sunday night, I got to meet some of Melissa's German friends, the son of her mom's college roommate (who now lives in Berlin) and his girlfriend, and we had a little dinner party of sorts where Melissa taught me how to make this really good carrot-ginger-peanut butter soup.
As for my Monday in Berlin, my last full day, Melissa had class for most of the day, so I entertained myself. I first went to the Martin-Gropius-Bau which specializes mostly in having retrospective exhibits of famous photographers. Apparently I just missed their show on Avedon, but I got to see the Robert Lebeck retrospective which was unbelievable. Lebeck is a German photographer who worked for many newspapers, photographing both East and West Berlin and also being hired to travel to many countries in the world to photograph momentous events. He is the shit. He basically does what I want to do with my life. Mad jealous.
I then tried to go to the other main photography museum of Berlin, but it was closed on Mondays, so instead I went to one of the Berlin Wall museums which was kind of too touristy and cluttered and chaotic with stuff (though they did have cars in the museum that people used to escape from the East to the West in and talked about how selling diving equipment was illegal in East Berlin because of fear people would use it to escape), and I went to the Berlin Aquarium. I photographed fishes for a while, saw some rattlesnakes mating, and then headed back to Melissa's neighborhood where I bought school supplies ("If you're going to buy school supplies, do it in Germany," -- Melissa), went into an antique store and made friends with the older woman who worked there and purchased some little black and white photos of dancers and actresses that used to come in cigarette packs, including a couple of Marlene Dietrich, and then sat in Café Bilder Buch a little on my own, doodling with my new markers and waiting for Melissa, and then finally us going back to the apartment and just talking and hanging out and such until all hours of the morning.
BERLIN ----> KRAKOW..................
I left early in the morning on Tuesday 2/3 to ride the train all day from Berlin to Krakow. It was a long ride, but the scenery was quite nice. Snow and fields and such. What was ridiculous though was how the train actually travels half as fast in Poland as it did in Germany. Melissa said this has to do with coal mines below the tracks or something, but for me it was just logical as I was moving closer back to Russia.
KRAKOW..................
By the time I arrived in Krakow it was about 8:00PM and Emma greeted me at the station. We decided simply to get some pizza and talk and sleep and go out the next night.
In the morning, I went out on my own to explore Krakow as Emma had class. Krakow is so small it is ridiculous, ridiculous, you can walk everywhere and the longest it will take you is 20 minutes. I took myself to the main town square, which I liked a lot, in its Medevial style and cobblestoned-ness. I saw the famous DaVinci "Lady with an Ermine" at the Cazartoryski Gallery, and met Emma for coffee inbetween her classes. During Emma's second class, I made my way in the drizzle to the Wawel Hill area which is a castle and famous and stuff, took some photos, and met up with Emma again to go back to their apartment slash hotel. Her program puts up the eight students in the group in this apartment-style hotel place during the time they are living in Krakow and it was homey and clean and had an awesome shower. I certainly enjoyed my naps there.
True to our previous decision, Emma, her friend Ellen, and I went out to a Krakow microbrewery that night called CK Browar. We had a beer that was made right there on the premeises, but what makes Krakow completely different from St. Petersburg in every way is how early things close. By 11pm our waitress was asking us to pay our check. So we left the brewery and had a kebab (Polish version of schwarma) and stood in the main square in the mist and ate it.
So, my Thursday morning, my last day in Krakow, I got up early to try to go to the Polish Museum of Insurance, which is only open Tuesday through Friday from 9AM to 11AM. I felt I had an obligation to go to this museum, considering my steady career back at home, but there was slightly awkward miscommunication involving this museum which seemed all too appropriate. I found the place, but the door was locked, I tried to open it, and was about to turn away when a woman inside opened it and spoke to me in Polish and I told her I spoke Russia and English and she shrugged and told me to go to the courtyard or something.... I thought that maybe that was where the real entrance was..... but all that was there was an actual insurance company.....? So I gave up. But I got a picture of the locked door.
Instead I went to the National Museum which I really liked. They have a whole big huge collection of old knives and pocketwatches and other objects d'art and such, but they also have a ton of 20th century Polish art and they had a temporary exhibit which included Andy Warhol's work "Ten Jews of the 20th Century." I made my way back to Emma's place, napped for a bit, and then we went out to dinner and saw Milk at what is basically the Polish version of the Waltham Embassy Theatre. Milk was really good, the first time I cried at a movie in over a year, and I highly recommend it, but that's off the subject. After that Emma and I just headed back to her place to pack and talk and nap briefly before my cab came to pick me up at 4:00AM to get me to the airport for my 6:00AM flight from Krakow to Warsaw on Friday morning 2/6/09.
KRAKOW ----> WARSAW ----> ST. PETERSBURG ..................
This is where things get tricky.
Initally, back in the fall when I had been planning this trip, I wanted to take trains all the way back to St. Petersburg from Paris. I changed my mind and decided to fly the last leg of the trip from Krakow to St. Petersburg because in order to not go through Belarus (for which you need a visa which I do not have), I would have had to change trains about 4 or 5 times and it would have taken about 30 to 40 hours, so I decided, oh, flying will be so much simpler.
The cab driver picked me up at Emma's place, he was very nice, helped me with my luggage, Mom, and I was impressed by his driving skills as we made through very thick fog to the Krakow airport. Not really sure why I didn't make this connection, but, of course, upon arriving at the airport, paying the guy, getting my luggae, going inside, there are huge signs everywhere saying the 6:00AM flight from Krakow to Warsaw has been canceled due to the fog. Great. The LOT Polish Airlines ladies claimed they sent me an email at midnight that night, but I had definitely checked my email at 3:30AM before leaving Emma's and hadn't recieved anything and still have yet to receive anything from them. So, what to do. At first the only options they gave me where to wait at the airport until 1PM for a flight to Frankfurt from which I could probably get a connection to St. Petersburg or for a 3:40PM flight to Munich from which I could probably get a connection to St. Petersburg. None of this sounded appealing as it was 4:20AM when I was having this conversation. When the LOT office opened though at 5:00AM, the woman suggested I take a 6:00AM train from Krakow to Warsaw, arriving in at 9:00AM, just enough time to get a cab to the airport to make my original 10:45AM flight to St. Petersburg. And so, in a way, I got to enjoy trains one more time (though I slept solidly for the whole three hours I was on that train). What worked out really well though was a Belgium woman trying to make an 11:00AM flight from Warsaw to Sofia, Bulgaria, was in the same position as me, so we were able to share cabs and go on the train together from the Krakow airport to the Krakow train station to the Warsaw train station to the Warsaw airport and make our flights just in time. She was really helpful -- speaking English, French and Polish -- and looked almost exactly like Auntie Christine. I didn't even learn her name until we said good bye to go to our different gates. It was all quite a surreal experience, especially when I was back in my Petersburg apartment, eating banana bread made by my roommate, right on time at 4:00PM like I had supposed to be all along.
And so, I am back in Russia.
Clearly there are a shit-ton of photographs from all these activities, there are also a ton from my two weeks at home, and I am severely, severely behind on uploading, but don't worry. I have internet in the apartment. I'll be working on it.
Until then, here are the self portraits at least.
HOW THE HELL
did I go so long without ever seeing Harold & Maude???
It is such my kind of movie. Oh my god. Oh my goddd.
It is such my kind of movie. Oh my god. Oh my goddd.
Monday, February 9, 2009
What I've been up to:
Well, my first Saturday night back in Russia was spent crafting with my roomie (pictured below), making this mobile out of small sea creature-shaped sponges, the kind that come in capsules and expand in hot water, sent to me in the mail by one Ms. Janna Herman. When I received the package initially at the Smolny office, my program director gave me a snotty little lecture on how it was so bad for the environment and such a waste of fuel to have something made in China shipped to the U.S. to be sold and purchased only to be sent all the way back to Russia, but I feel that it was worth it. It adds such a homey feel to the apartment....
Anyway, it's quite nice being back. I like living in this apartment with Lauren a lot. On Saturday, I actually only left the place for about 15 minutes to go to the grocery store with Cathy & Carrie to get things to make fried rice for dinner. On Sunday I only left for about an hour, and today I had to venture out longer to do some Smolny-related tasks, but for now, I'm taking a couple vacation days before classes and insanity start up again this week.
So, it's not so interesting for you to hear about how I've been lounging around in my pajamas and putting up postcards all over my walls, but instead let me tell you about my little eleven-day adventure getting myself from Boston, all across Europe, and back to Russia. Yes, I did it alone, and yes, look I am still alive Mom, check me out.
BOSTON ----> PARIS..................
It started fairly uneventfully, flying out of Logan on Monday night 1/26/09, a five hour lay over in the Dublin airport where I slept on a window ledge, arriving in Paris on Tuesday afternoon 1/27/09. I took a taxi to my hostel in Montmartre, and the first person I met in Paris was the cabdriver who..... spoke Russian. He was telling me about a flash drive or something and couldn't think of the word in English, only in French, and he asked, "Do you speak French?" "No, I speak Russian..." and he said "Ahh! Ты понимаешь русский язык!" ("You understand Russian!"). It was so bizarre. I wasn't expecting anyone in France to speak to me in Russian, especially not the very first person I talked to there. Anyway, he's a Serbian guitar player and told me that in school there they first learn Russian, then French, and then either English or German so by the time they graduate from high school they should know four languages. I was impressed, but he said, "Well, it's not actually that good because the teachers can hit you."
PARIS..................
By the time I arrived at the hostel, I had barely checked in when Erin B showed up in the lobby of my kind of funky, kind of pretentious, kind of hipster hostel. So I said fuck it and forgot the idea of showering or napping or settling, and went right out with her for coffee. This was actually probably the best thing to do for jetlag, and Erin B and I talked so damn much and she kept me so entertained that I was able to make it to a normal hour before crashing to bed in the hostel. That first night we spent a long time drinking coffee, and then went down to the Seine and looked at the Louvre and some other sights all lit up at night, and then we sat and chatted more while Erin ate a kebab (French version of schwarma sort of). Erin also introduced me to the Parisian metro that night which I hadn't ridden on since the last time I was in Paris over ten years ago.... Their metro is just nuts. There are so many more lines and stops than necessary it seems after the minimalist St. Petersburg metro where the stops are up to a 40 minute walk apart.... the amount of stops on the Paris metro seems frivilous. But it was fun as hell to ride, and I loved the older clunkier cars with the doors you have to throw a mechanical switch to open when the train stops.
That whole first night in Paris was just super surreal for a number of reasons.... being back there for the first time in so long, and Paris being the first place abroad I remember traveling to (not like I remember Japan or Hong Kong) made me really excited about traveling all over again, it reminded me of that new thrilling feeling. It was also weird because I have a much larger passive knowledge of French than I thought I would from those three years of studying colors and foods and Haiti at Nashoba, and so I could actually understand most of what I read and what people said to me, but I couldn't reply. My instinct has become that whenever anyone addresses me in a language that is not English to reply in Russian. Unfortunately, the rest of the people I talked to in Paris where not Serbian and had no idea what I was saying until I remembered where I was a switched to English. The last way that Paris was super surreal though and also kind of hilarious was seeing how it is the city that St. Petersburg wanted to try to be so desperately and failed miserably at. They got some aspects right -- being built on a river, cobblestones -- but the charming little winding streets and the unbelievable food..... not quite. Though when Erin and I traded stories of our study abroad experiences, it seems we face a lot of the same problems: apathy, rudeness, everyone hating their jobs, nobody wanting to help you out, bad driving. Just Erin has access to better food.
On my first full day in Paris, I woke up and made my way up the hill of Montmarte and then up an additional 300 steps to the top of the dome of the Sacré-Coeur where I had a huge and cloudy view of Paris where I noticed for the first time what an odd structure the Eiffel Tower really is.
After this I managed the Paris metro alone and to find Erin and her friend from her program to meet up for lunch. We went to perhaps the most stereotypical little French café, homey and delicious (Erin and I both had miniature basil ravioli) complete with a golden-red cocker spaniel named Cannelle (French for "cinnamon," something I remembered from trying to bake an apple pie in Paris with Dad one fourth of July long ago). Erin then had class for a couple hours, so I made my way wandering up towards Notre Dame Cathedral -- exciting because the last time I saw it it was covered in scaffolding being cleaned -- and made my way back to meet up with Erin and her friends again to go have tea in the Mosquée. Yes, only in the mosque in Paris is there a beautiful elegant old-fashion tea room where you buy red and golden glasses of mint tea with honey and perhaps the best bahklava I've ever had in my life, everything costing one, solid, heavy, old-fashion-feeling 2 euro coin.
Erin and I then spent the afternoon walking around the Marais district which is old and funky and Jewish. We took the metro again to the Charles de Gaulle-Etoile stop and took a look at that big old Arc d'Triomphe and wandered up to Erin's host family's house as they had invited me over for dinner. Erin's family definitely wins for perhaps the most adorable, young, attractive French couple ever. Husband and wife, 36 and 31, and their little 2.5 year old daughter, all cute with dark hair and glasses. They made me dinner of honey chicken and honey pasta and we were able to have a pretty good conversation considering my severe lack of knowledge of French and their broken English. I hadn't realized how much my French vocabulary had increased due to how many words the Russians stole from France. Our dinner even ended with this nice apple digestive liquor that is made on the husband's family's vineyard in Normandy.
After, Erin and I went on our own little date for dessert -- chocolate mousse and mulled wine -- and sat outside at a café under the warming heaters. God, how French. And then we met up with some of her Tufts people but failed at doing anything exciting, but it was late by this point anyway so we went home.
On my second full day in Paris I had to go to some art museums, of course. This day was a little chaotic though because there were strikes all day -- the "greve"-- meaning that the entire second floor of the Louvre was closed because it was a public museum and they didn't have enough people to work. But the Louvre is so damn big we had enough to see anyway without the second floor.
For a break after the Louvre we met up with Erin's friends again, this time including, yes, FATIMA AZIZ from Nashoba, how nuts is that, and we went to this pretty tea room Frenchy place called Angelina's for hot chocolate. The plan had been just to have hot chocolate there and go elsewhere for lunch after (as their hot chocolate alone is 7 euro let alone their 25 euro sandwiches...), but as their version of hot chocolate is basically three whole chocolate bars melted into a glass with a handful of whipped cream on top, we were too full to eat anything more, so after Erin and I went to another museum. We tried to go to the L'Orangeire, but failed as it was closed due to the strikes, but the Jeu de Paume, the photography museum of Paris, was open. I got to see Robert Frank's photos of the Americans and then also his views of Paris, which seemed all too appropriate. I was quite happy.
We wandered through the Tuileries gardens, recreated a photograph from my youth, tried to go to the Pompidou but it was also closed due to the strikes. Then Erin and I went back to the Marias district, and I paused to take a photo of some graffiti someone did of Obama dressed as Superman and an Austrian man who was standing next to us smiling and chuckling at the graffiti as well gave me his email address to send him the photo. See, Nunni? They love him over there. Erin and I then proceeded to eat the best falaffel in the world, and meet up with her friends to go all the way to the top of the Eiffel Tower for the view at night. That was pretty damn spectacular, fog and mist and all, the only strange part was the beacon of a search light that looked like an alien space craft landing in all of my photographs.
For my last day in Paris, Erin had class in the morning so I entertained myself by going to the Pere Lechaise cemetery. I absolutely loved the place, mossy and sunny and full of these old, elaborate gravestones that were a wet dream to photograph. I shot an entire roll of film just in that cemetery. Not only that, I found some famous people's stones: Jim Morrison, Gertrude Stein, Frederic Chopin, Georges Bizet, Edith Piaf & Oscar Wilde.
I met up with Erin and her friend Sarah for lunch -- we got take-out Italian food from shop that smelled as good as the food tasted -- and sat out on a bench on Saint-Germain to eat it, then going to the Café de Flore where famous writers used to hang out back in the day, apparently.
And now, here is the totally nuts part of my last day in Paris: before my train left at 8:00PM, Erin and I managed to go to two more museums AND have a cute little dinner of crepes on the top of Montamartre. I'm still not sure how we pulled it off, but we got ourselves to both the l'Orangeire and the Dali Museum (which is at the top of about a billion steps). It was totally worth the chaos and ankle strain, as at the l'Orangeire I got to relive my childhood visit to Paris, seeing that same Matisse painting of the depressed girl not wanting to practice the violin that I connected to so much when I was younger (another photo-recreation was done).
So with Erin waving me off at my train at the l'Est station, I continued my way East towards Berlin.
PARIS ----> BERLIN..................
I have only two comments about my uneventful train ride from France to Germany, as I slept most of the eleven hours:
1. Western European trains are unbelievably clean compared to Russian trains. Holy shit. I went into the bathroom wearing just socks and there was toilet paper provided and no urine all over the floor.
2. There was not just a dog in my six-person cabin with me, but a fucking CAIRN TERRIER. Waldo in coloring, but looked all like Gus. He belonged to a French middle-aged woman and her elderly mother who were traveling together, and he took a liking to me and tried to snuggle with me on my bunk at one point, but the woman wouldn't let him.
BERLIN..................
Melissa found me bright and early on Saturday morning 1/31/09 in the central Berlin train station. Upon seeing each other, Melissa and I realized that the last time we had hung out was over a year ago, in the snow, in Harvard Square, as Melissa hadn't come home for her spring break last year and I was already in Russia by the time Melissa got back to Massachusetts in June. This being realized, we decided we needed a huge chunk of time just to sit and talk. First we sat and talked in Melissa's apartment, drinking Colombian coffee brought back by her German roommate's boyfriend, the most typically-Melissa apartment in the world full of Tin-Tin posters and organic food and bright white walls. We then sat and talked more in Melissa's favorite café, not too far from her house, the Café Bilder Buch, and then we went back and talked more and prepared to go out for "The Night of the Long Museum."
My timing was perfect for this night, as it is the one night in the year when all the museums in Berlin (all 1,000,000,000,000,000 of them) stay open until 2am. Melissa had already purchased us tickets and spent hours pouring through the booklet of all of the museums trying to decide which ones I would like the best. First though we had some curry fried at Curry 36, known for their currywurst, and then Indian food with Melissa's friends from her program. We then started with the Gay Museum as it was right nextdoor to the Indian place.
.... TO BE CONTINUED.
I'm going to watch Harold & Maude now with the roomie.
Anyway, it's quite nice being back. I like living in this apartment with Lauren a lot. On Saturday, I actually only left the place for about 15 minutes to go to the grocery store with Cathy & Carrie to get things to make fried rice for dinner. On Sunday I only left for about an hour, and today I had to venture out longer to do some Smolny-related tasks, but for now, I'm taking a couple vacation days before classes and insanity start up again this week.
So, it's not so interesting for you to hear about how I've been lounging around in my pajamas and putting up postcards all over my walls, but instead let me tell you about my little eleven-day adventure getting myself from Boston, all across Europe, and back to Russia. Yes, I did it alone, and yes, look I am still alive Mom, check me out.
BOSTON ----> PARIS..................
It started fairly uneventfully, flying out of Logan on Monday night 1/26/09, a five hour lay over in the Dublin airport where I slept on a window ledge, arriving in Paris on Tuesday afternoon 1/27/09. I took a taxi to my hostel in Montmartre, and the first person I met in Paris was the cabdriver who..... spoke Russian. He was telling me about a flash drive or something and couldn't think of the word in English, only in French, and he asked, "Do you speak French?" "No, I speak Russian..." and he said "Ahh! Ты понимаешь русский язык!" ("You understand Russian!"). It was so bizarre. I wasn't expecting anyone in France to speak to me in Russian, especially not the very first person I talked to there. Anyway, he's a Serbian guitar player and told me that in school there they first learn Russian, then French, and then either English or German so by the time they graduate from high school they should know four languages. I was impressed, but he said, "Well, it's not actually that good because the teachers can hit you."
PARIS..................
By the time I arrived at the hostel, I had barely checked in when Erin B showed up in the lobby of my kind of funky, kind of pretentious, kind of hipster hostel. So I said fuck it and forgot the idea of showering or napping or settling, and went right out with her for coffee. This was actually probably the best thing to do for jetlag, and Erin B and I talked so damn much and she kept me so entertained that I was able to make it to a normal hour before crashing to bed in the hostel. That first night we spent a long time drinking coffee, and then went down to the Seine and looked at the Louvre and some other sights all lit up at night, and then we sat and chatted more while Erin ate a kebab (French version of schwarma sort of). Erin also introduced me to the Parisian metro that night which I hadn't ridden on since the last time I was in Paris over ten years ago.... Their metro is just nuts. There are so many more lines and stops than necessary it seems after the minimalist St. Petersburg metro where the stops are up to a 40 minute walk apart.... the amount of stops on the Paris metro seems frivilous. But it was fun as hell to ride, and I loved the older clunkier cars with the doors you have to throw a mechanical switch to open when the train stops.
That whole first night in Paris was just super surreal for a number of reasons.... being back there for the first time in so long, and Paris being the first place abroad I remember traveling to (not like I remember Japan or Hong Kong) made me really excited about traveling all over again, it reminded me of that new thrilling feeling. It was also weird because I have a much larger passive knowledge of French than I thought I would from those three years of studying colors and foods and Haiti at Nashoba, and so I could actually understand most of what I read and what people said to me, but I couldn't reply. My instinct has become that whenever anyone addresses me in a language that is not English to reply in Russian. Unfortunately, the rest of the people I talked to in Paris where not Serbian and had no idea what I was saying until I remembered where I was a switched to English. The last way that Paris was super surreal though and also kind of hilarious was seeing how it is the city that St. Petersburg wanted to try to be so desperately and failed miserably at. They got some aspects right -- being built on a river, cobblestones -- but the charming little winding streets and the unbelievable food..... not quite. Though when Erin and I traded stories of our study abroad experiences, it seems we face a lot of the same problems: apathy, rudeness, everyone hating their jobs, nobody wanting to help you out, bad driving. Just Erin has access to better food.
On my first full day in Paris, I woke up and made my way up the hill of Montmarte and then up an additional 300 steps to the top of the dome of the Sacré-Coeur where I had a huge and cloudy view of Paris where I noticed for the first time what an odd structure the Eiffel Tower really is.
After this I managed the Paris metro alone and to find Erin and her friend from her program to meet up for lunch. We went to perhaps the most stereotypical little French café, homey and delicious (Erin and I both had miniature basil ravioli) complete with a golden-red cocker spaniel named Cannelle (French for "cinnamon," something I remembered from trying to bake an apple pie in Paris with Dad one fourth of July long ago). Erin then had class for a couple hours, so I made my way wandering up towards Notre Dame Cathedral -- exciting because the last time I saw it it was covered in scaffolding being cleaned -- and made my way back to meet up with Erin and her friends again to go have tea in the Mosquée. Yes, only in the mosque in Paris is there a beautiful elegant old-fashion tea room where you buy red and golden glasses of mint tea with honey and perhaps the best bahklava I've ever had in my life, everything costing one, solid, heavy, old-fashion-feeling 2 euro coin.
Erin and I then spent the afternoon walking around the Marais district which is old and funky and Jewish. We took the metro again to the Charles de Gaulle-Etoile stop and took a look at that big old Arc d'Triomphe and wandered up to Erin's host family's house as they had invited me over for dinner. Erin's family definitely wins for perhaps the most adorable, young, attractive French couple ever. Husband and wife, 36 and 31, and their little 2.5 year old daughter, all cute with dark hair and glasses. They made me dinner of honey chicken and honey pasta and we were able to have a pretty good conversation considering my severe lack of knowledge of French and their broken English. I hadn't realized how much my French vocabulary had increased due to how many words the Russians stole from France. Our dinner even ended with this nice apple digestive liquor that is made on the husband's family's vineyard in Normandy.
After, Erin and I went on our own little date for dessert -- chocolate mousse and mulled wine -- and sat outside at a café under the warming heaters. God, how French. And then we met up with some of her Tufts people but failed at doing anything exciting, but it was late by this point anyway so we went home.
On my second full day in Paris I had to go to some art museums, of course. This day was a little chaotic though because there were strikes all day -- the "greve"-- meaning that the entire second floor of the Louvre was closed because it was a public museum and they didn't have enough people to work. But the Louvre is so damn big we had enough to see anyway without the second floor.
For a break after the Louvre we met up with Erin's friends again, this time including, yes, FATIMA AZIZ from Nashoba, how nuts is that, and we went to this pretty tea room Frenchy place called Angelina's for hot chocolate. The plan had been just to have hot chocolate there and go elsewhere for lunch after (as their hot chocolate alone is 7 euro let alone their 25 euro sandwiches...), but as their version of hot chocolate is basically three whole chocolate bars melted into a glass with a handful of whipped cream on top, we were too full to eat anything more, so after Erin and I went to another museum. We tried to go to the L'Orangeire, but failed as it was closed due to the strikes, but the Jeu de Paume, the photography museum of Paris, was open. I got to see Robert Frank's photos of the Americans and then also his views of Paris, which seemed all too appropriate. I was quite happy.
We wandered through the Tuileries gardens, recreated a photograph from my youth, tried to go to the Pompidou but it was also closed due to the strikes. Then Erin and I went back to the Marias district, and I paused to take a photo of some graffiti someone did of Obama dressed as Superman and an Austrian man who was standing next to us smiling and chuckling at the graffiti as well gave me his email address to send him the photo. See, Nunni? They love him over there. Erin and I then proceeded to eat the best falaffel in the world, and meet up with her friends to go all the way to the top of the Eiffel Tower for the view at night. That was pretty damn spectacular, fog and mist and all, the only strange part was the beacon of a search light that looked like an alien space craft landing in all of my photographs.
For my last day in Paris, Erin had class in the morning so I entertained myself by going to the Pere Lechaise cemetery. I absolutely loved the place, mossy and sunny and full of these old, elaborate gravestones that were a wet dream to photograph. I shot an entire roll of film just in that cemetery. Not only that, I found some famous people's stones: Jim Morrison, Gertrude Stein, Frederic Chopin, Georges Bizet, Edith Piaf & Oscar Wilde.
I met up with Erin and her friend Sarah for lunch -- we got take-out Italian food from shop that smelled as good as the food tasted -- and sat out on a bench on Saint-Germain to eat it, then going to the Café de Flore where famous writers used to hang out back in the day, apparently.
And now, here is the totally nuts part of my last day in Paris: before my train left at 8:00PM, Erin and I managed to go to two more museums AND have a cute little dinner of crepes on the top of Montamartre. I'm still not sure how we pulled it off, but we got ourselves to both the l'Orangeire and the Dali Museum (which is at the top of about a billion steps). It was totally worth the chaos and ankle strain, as at the l'Orangeire I got to relive my childhood visit to Paris, seeing that same Matisse painting of the depressed girl not wanting to practice the violin that I connected to so much when I was younger (another photo-recreation was done).
So with Erin waving me off at my train at the l'Est station, I continued my way East towards Berlin.
PARIS ----> BERLIN..................
I have only two comments about my uneventful train ride from France to Germany, as I slept most of the eleven hours:
1. Western European trains are unbelievably clean compared to Russian trains. Holy shit. I went into the bathroom wearing just socks and there was toilet paper provided and no urine all over the floor.
2. There was not just a dog in my six-person cabin with me, but a fucking CAIRN TERRIER. Waldo in coloring, but looked all like Gus. He belonged to a French middle-aged woman and her elderly mother who were traveling together, and he took a liking to me and tried to snuggle with me on my bunk at one point, but the woman wouldn't let him.
BERLIN..................
Melissa found me bright and early on Saturday morning 1/31/09 in the central Berlin train station. Upon seeing each other, Melissa and I realized that the last time we had hung out was over a year ago, in the snow, in Harvard Square, as Melissa hadn't come home for her spring break last year and I was already in Russia by the time Melissa got back to Massachusetts in June. This being realized, we decided we needed a huge chunk of time just to sit and talk. First we sat and talked in Melissa's apartment, drinking Colombian coffee brought back by her German roommate's boyfriend, the most typically-Melissa apartment in the world full of Tin-Tin posters and organic food and bright white walls. We then sat and talked more in Melissa's favorite café, not too far from her house, the Café Bilder Buch, and then we went back and talked more and prepared to go out for "The Night of the Long Museum."
My timing was perfect for this night, as it is the one night in the year when all the museums in Berlin (all 1,000,000,000,000,000 of them) stay open until 2am. Melissa had already purchased us tickets and spent hours pouring through the booklet of all of the museums trying to decide which ones I would like the best. First though we had some curry fried at Curry 36, known for their currywurst, and then Indian food with Melissa's friends from her program. We then started with the Gay Museum as it was right nextdoor to the Indian place.
.... TO BE CONTINUED.
I'm going to watch Harold & Maude now with the roomie.
Friday, February 6, 2009
And, alive, once again in St. Petersburg.
It was quite a production getting back here, but we'll get into that later.
For now know I am hoooommmeeee and Lauren is baking banana bread.
For now know I am hoooommmeeee and Lauren is baking banana bread.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
ALIVE IN KRAKOW.
Reminiscing with Ms. Emma Dorst about all the good old Russian days of..... a month ago.
ALSO: a side note: yes, I am aware that despite my earlier entry, I did not get up the rest of the self portraits from 1/17 to 1/26. I was in the process of doing it and then it was taking too long and then I had to go to Logan to make my flight..... patience, patience. I'll have a shit ton of photos to put up soon enough from all my travels, etc.
ALSO: a side note: yes, I am aware that despite my earlier entry, I did not get up the rest of the self portraits from 1/17 to 1/26. I was in the process of doing it and then it was taking too long and then I had to go to Logan to make my flight..... patience, patience. I'll have a shit ton of photos to put up soon enough from all my travels, etc.
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