how Russian girls turn into babushkas

This weekend was very busy. A lot of things happened, some of which I will recount soon. But one of the more interesting things that occurred was my realization—aha! This is where little Russian girls begin to turn into their grandmothers.

I had just returned home from a very busy Saturday-Sunday. I wasn’t exactly home yet… I wanted to call my parents. First I tried a bookstore. No luck. So many people were using the wifi, the call was dropping every few minutes. So I walked over to my secret internet spot. I say it’s a secret because it probably ought to be, because it’s kind of embarrassing and not entirely legal, not because it’s actually secret. As a matter of fact, this secret spot means standing outside of the back of a row of cafes (all of which have wifi) and making calls from there. This way I don’t have to buy anything, there aren’t tables of people just sitting and listening to me talk, and the annoying music inevitably playing doesn’t bother me… as would be the case if I, you know, went inside any of these cafes.

As I was standing there talking to my parents, Nastya and Lina walked by, going home from the grocery store. Nastya turned and smiled and waved. I waved back.

On arriving to the apartment, Nastya intercepted me. She proceeded to lecture me on how that was really not a good place to stand and talk on the phone. People walking by could see me, it was too near the street, it was too far away from home… etc. I don’t particularly agree with any of her concerns (it’s part of the same courtyard our apartment is in; there’s the cafes on one side and a kindergarten on the other, so I don’t think it’s a sketchy area at all), and I pushed back a little. But she kept on. She was very certain that my decision was wrong. Kind of like her grandmother had been last Wednesday, when she realized I went to the ballet without tights and wanted me to promise to wear tights all the time.

Later that evening, Nastya was recounting a story about getting ice cream with her friend. The story went kind of like: “I got this kind of ice cream, with hot caramel sauce. It was awesome. Polya got that other kind of ice cream, and it was good too, but she had only cold toppings. That’s why she got sick the next week and I didn’t, because I had the hot caramel sauce, and her ice cream was just cold.” It’s basically babushka, telling me I need to microwave my fruit juice so it’s not too cold.

Conclusion: Russian girls don’t become babushkas. They are born babushkas. If they ever pass a period of life in which they seem normal and willing to let other people make stupid decisions like talking on the phone outside or eating ice cream without something hot on top, it’s probably because they are trying to hide their true nature. They become babushkas for a second and final the moment they give that pursuit up.

goal-revisiting with one month to go

So, those goals, remember them? Me neither.

Average no more than 30 minutes per day in communication with America (including email, Facebook, phone, and video chat).

Maybe? Probably. I definitely average no more than 45 minutes online each day, but I haven’t counted time writing emails etc offline, to send when I get internet.

Learn to pray in Russian.

Success. I mean, it’s communication, so as far as I’ve learned to communicate in Russia… success.

Find a place in St. Petersburg where I can swing dance. Wear my amazing (-ly obnoxious) new $6 dance shoes. Be the exotic American doing exotic American dances like, the way they do them in America.

Welllll let’s just say I found better uses for my time/money.

But otherwise, keep the obvious Americanness to a minimum.

For the most part, I’m doing okay with this, I think. Considering the fact that old men walk up to me on the street and ask me for directions occasionally.

Read at least one “for fun” book in Russian. Even if it’s a children’s book.

I haven’t finished it yet, but I’m working on this fascinating account of Geronimo Stilton and the Emerald Eye. I think it’s at about a 2^nd grade reading level.

Remember to take my dietary supplements and vitamins.

85% success?

Attend a Russian church. Make friends with the local бабушки (read: little old church ladies).

Yes! Have only missed twice this semester, I think. But as I said earlier, the “old” category of church ladies is a bit… lacking.

Don’t be too annoying about rooting for the good ol’ USA during the Olympics.

Already obsolete.

Update this blog at least twice a week.

I have succeeded, mostly! Of course, I realize now that I wrote about twice as frequently during my first month as I have since then. But that’s okay, because most of the big stuff I guess I covered earlier?

Get more sleep than I do at ND on a regular basis (so, more than 6.5 hours/night).

7-8 hours a night, not bad.

Stay in a hostel.

Hasn’t happened, and it won’t. But I’m not too heartbroken. I’ve heard they’re kind of like hotels, except… not exactly. And I’ve certainly done my time in hotels in America.

Visit every free museum in St. Petersburg.

Yeah, that will not happen. But I have been to the Hermitage 4 times, so that has to count for something.

Do not end up leading/directing/in charge of anything. Except maybe weekend excursions with the other students.

I should have given myself a number limit of weekend excursions I could plan. Except… the fact that I planned excursions for pretty much every weekend and sometimes for Wednesdays or Tuesdays as well means that I got to choose where we went, what time we left, etc! So convenient! But other than that and some icebreakers, I have not ended up in any sort of leadership position, so that’s good.

Learn 12 words/day, and use them again.

I never did land on a system that consistently worked, so I fell back to just reviewing my notes every day. I kind of doubt that I’ve learned 12 words a day for the last week or so, just because I’ve reached the point where I can understand daily exchanges with the vocabulary I have, but I think it’s okay.

Keep a journal, minimum 150 words/day.

Is not happening so well as I hoped, but sometimes yes. It’s always very useful when I have time, but if it’s a choice between journaling and sleep… sleep wins.

Read 3 news articles/week.

With lack of internet and lack of motivation to buy newspapers, this has also not been happening. But apparently on the end-of-semester oral exam, current events is a likely topic, so I’m going to start this up soon.

NEW GOALS

Go to Pushkin

Go to Vyborg

Average 100 words/day in my journal

Memorize two poems (and know all words)

Listen to a complete audio book

Reasonable, I think. Let’s go!

important things that have happened recently

Hello. I’m back. I know it’s been a little longer than a week, but I figured skipping one blog post didn’t really count as a break, so I skipped two. whee!

I am doing better now than a week ago. I think I attributed my stress a bit… falsely. Yes, I want to be fluent-or-close-to-it in Russian. No, that’s not going to happen in the next month. But probably what was/is hardest of all is balancing my life as it exists in Russia with my life as it is still connected to America. If I could completely immerse myself in Russia, not worry about keeping in touch with friends from home, not worry about assuring my parents I’m still alive, not worry about what I’m doing over the summer, not worry about what classes I’m going to take next semester, not worry about applications for post-grad programs, basically not worry about having any sort of life worth going back to in America… that would be a different story. Not that I’m actually worried about those things, or nervous—I just need to think about them from time to time/oftener than I would like.

BUT I have taken strides to simplify my life/reduce this dual-citizenship deal, and some other cool things have happened, so here’s list for you of recent events that make me happy:

1. I finished and submitted my Fulbright screening application.
2. I finished and submitted my senior thesis proposal.
3. I tried Azerbaijani food for the first time (amazing).
4. I received and confirmed a job offer for the summer.
5. I found a store where I can buy peanuts for 22rubles/100g.
6. I saw every impressionist painting in the Hermitage.
7. I went to Pavlovsk!
8. I chose, doubted, and then reconfirmed my classes for next semester.
9. I attended my first full-length, Sunday-morning Orthodox service.
10. I babysat for some expat friends at my church.

So life is good, I’m alive, I’m handling classes pretty well, people seem to understand me when I speak, I have lots of plans for the next few weeks, and I only have 10 class days left in the semester! (Isn’t that weird? Especially considering I won’t be home for over a month?)

on losing steam

In study abroad orientation, we were given a little chart depicting our expected emotional/academic moods throughout the course of the semester. I can’t find it now, but it looked kind of like your basic sine wave. At the time, I was in communication with two friends studying abroad (hi KMax & Bex!), and they both soundly dismissed the chart. KMax had never left the “honeymoon stage.” Rebecca had never entered it. I had no idea what to expect for myself, but I was kind of hoping for something nice and mellow, a middling sort of pace I could keep up for the whole semester.

This was not the case. I jumped in full force, and during orientation I was pretty convinced that Russia was awesome, and the semester was going to be great, and I was so. ready! Or at least ready to become ready. It took about a week for those illusions to crash, and I hit a low. Since then, I have been climbing pretty steadily… I’ve been keeping an eye out for milestones, working hard to reach them, and then congratulating myself when I do. It’s a good system for keeping up motivation. Also, as I’ve mentioned, I am the group event planner. I’ve been getting to see everything I wanted to see, when I want to see it, and people are happy that I was planning stuff! It’s been great!

But, in the wise words of whoever wrote the music to “The Sword in the Stone” (from the Disney Dark Ages; look it up)… “what goes up, must come down; for every smile there is a frown; for every high there is a low; for every to there is a fro.”

I’m still doing well. I know I’m learning stuff. I still make lists of questions I need to ask my professors. I still try to speak Russian when I can. I still try to go to museums. But this week I hit a wall pretty hard, and I’m at the point where I need a break (NOTE TO ACTR: this is why most universities put Spring Break in the middle of the semester, instead of after finals). I want a break from classes, yes, but also from the stresses of thinking about thesis proposals, summer jobs, and Fulbright applications; from the expectations that I’m going to find something new, interesting, and cheap to do every weekend; from hearing Russian at every turn, at every minute of the day; from the idea that I should be operating on all cylinders all the time to learn Russian.

Really, it’s the idea that I need to be using every minute productively that is getting a little rough. But I don’t quite know how to ditch that idea, since I know that I am here with a purpose (to learn the Russian language and culture), and that ahead of me there is a standard (total fluency).

It’s kind of like I’ve set the bar at infinity, and even though I know I’m not actually going to reach it in the next six weeks, I have to get as close as I can. And to spend energy on anything else seems extravagant. But if I don’t aim for 100% of my ability, where do I aim? 87% of my ability is just so much harder to quantify, and it also doesn’t sound as nice. But working at 100% of my ability suddenly appears totally unsustainable.

All of that said, I think I’m going to drop off of the internet map this week. I’ve got a lot to do (see: thesis proposal and Fulbright apps), and I need to take a break from something. And I don’t think that taking a break from Russian is going to fly (because, whether I like it or not, it’s kind of everywhere here). So this is goodbye to the blog and email for a few days, but I’ll be back!

host family updates

It’s been a while since I’ve talked about my host family here. Now that I’ve had over two months with them, let me offer you some insight on What It’s Like To Live With A Russian Family.

First, the members of the family:

Natasha. She is the matriarch of the family, and the one who is officially listed as my “host.” She is the one who is technically obligated to feed me, talk to me, etc. Feed me she does, often enough. Talk to me she does, not frequently but also enough. Our conversations seem to be the same every time, and always very benign. But that’s okay. I’m learning about the 8 different kinds of kasha, and the names for all of the ridiculous parts of a Russian bedding set.

Andrei. He is, unexpectedly, the one I have the most and most interesting conversations with. At first, it seemed like all he wanted to talk about was sports, and if you know me at all you’re probably laughing out loud at the idea of me having a conversation about sports. But we found common ground in our enjoyment of jazz, of all things, and since then finding topics of conversation has been easier. Sometimes talking to him is frustrating, though, because I will be saying something that is actually correct, but he will not agree with the substance of what I’m communicating, and so assume that I just don’t know how to form the sentence. So he’ll correct me, but the correction is more content-based than grammar-based.

Lina. She and I don’t really talk. She’s very private. 80% of our communication is her telling me to put a hat on, because it’s cold outside, and me explaining that I will wear a hood just like last time, and me trying to avoid admitting that I don’t actually own the sort of hat she wants me to wear.

Nastya. We have lots of mutual respect. I think she’s one of the most enjoyable 11-year-olds I’ve ever met (mostly because she’s not trying to act 13), and she thinks I’m a genius (mostly because I can multiply double-digit numbers in my head). Natasha and Lina seem to live in perpetual fear that she is bothering me, despite my protests that no, it’s really fine, so we don’t get to hang out too often. But she’s fun.

It’s interesting—living with a family-family (as opposed to a babushka and her cat) looks very different than I thought. I have to work much harder to get significant interaction time, because they are busy with family responsibilities, Nastya’s French homework, Andrei’s old-and-ailing mother across town, ironing… lots of things that would not be eating on the time of a retired 80-year-old woman. While this was very hard at the beginning, and I was jealous of my friends with their guaranteed conversation partners and neverending rotation of gourmet Russian dishes, I’ve acclimated. It’s actually very nice as far as my independence goes.

Also, I’ve gotten to observe a bit of how they interact with each other. They often use a tone of voice that, in my house, would mean that somebody was in trouble (or at least very, very displeased). But here it’s just normal interaction. Despite the complete benignity of my interactions with the family, it seems that, on the whole, emotions are higher than I’m used to.

…But this also means that they are rather affectionate with each other. Russian lends itself very well to cutesy nicknames, and they certainly make use of them. I can barely imagine maintaining happy relationships with my grandparents and mother if we all essentially lived in two rooms together… and I had to share a bed with my mom. Somehow, for them, it works out.