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Last Look

My last week in Voronezh was a whirlwind. After my Siberian adventure, I had only four days left in my beloved provincial city. Here are a few photos of some of the memorable individuals I interacted with to some extent during my stay.

Dear readers, you may remember the carpenter from my first week who put together my closet and was very eager to introduce me to his four sons. The day before I left I ran into him and amidst complaints about USA and NATO he asked me when I was leaving. “Tomorrow!” I exclaimed. “Tomorrow?! We need a picture. You haven’t met my sons! I have four! You remember? Four! I will bring the youngest. No the second youngest. Tomorrow!”

The next morning he was ready for a photo op but without the son in tow. I think whichever son he advertised the idea to was even less thrilled than I was with the idea. (Perhaps he mentioned my lack of cooking skills?). He made me take two pictures. One where we did thumbs down for Putin and Obama and thumbs up for us and the rest of the world (Fulbright diplomacy at work!). And the other in front of his car which was a Ford. “Tell America even carpenter in Russia has this car!”.

These ladies sold me my Thanksgiving turkey and also meat on the very rare occasion that I attempted it. As I wandered through the market one last time I heard them cry out “devushka” (girl) and motion for me to come over. “How are you? How is America? How is your cooking? DO you want meat?”. I explained I was leaving in a few days for home, and we chatted for a few minutes before I asked to take their picture. “For America? We must fix our hair first”.

Normally I stop and buy nuts from a sweet guy near the entrance of the market who figured out very quickly I was a foreigner by my limited Russian when it comes to ordering quantities of almonds (I hate declining numbers in Russian more than almost anything). That day as I turned the corner of the market to buy almonds I was confronted by the fruit man who demanded to know my name and age since he recognized me. I normally quickly flee these situations but since it was my last week I decided to humor him. The conversation went a little like this:

Man: Girl! Girl! Girl! I know you hear me, girl. What’s your name? I’ve seen you here before.

Me: Maria

Man: How old are you?

Me: 22

Man: 22? What a joke! You’re 15! Stop pulling my leg.

Me: Ok…

Man: where are you from? What part of Russia?

Me: deep breath…I’m from America

I quickly walked away and thought I was free as he stared with googly eyes at the first American he had ever seen. Then I heard “Maria! Come back here”. His fruit partner in crime apparently refused to believe I was actually from America and over the age of 15. As these two burly men with just great breath got uncomfortably close to me, I knew I needed an exit strategy. Before I knew it, the almond boy had come up, grabbed me in his arms and heroically exclaimed, “She’s with me!”, and whisked me away to the nut stand.

Here is my almond hero shying away from the camera as he packages up my almonds.

My colleagues and boss decided to throw me a going away party, so we all gathered in a classroom to eat pirozhki and discuss how quickly my time in Voronezh had passed. I was grateful for a chance to see them all one last time and was showered with gifts and books and food and bells and magnets. Anything and everything they could think as a parting gift they gave.

Lastly, I have to mention my students. Each group found a special way to thank me and say goodbye. Here are "last day" pictures with a few groups. 

You may also remember me mentioning eating plov with Ira and her friend Luda on my first night in Voronezh. On my last day in Voronezh, Ira and Sasha (dressed in his American shirt, hat, and shoes) picked me up, and we decided to stop over to Luda’s again for some cookies and tea. It felt very “full circle” since the last time I had been there was on my first day in Voronezh when I was shy and terrified of teaching.

Marina and Maya, two other colleagues, met me at the station, and we stared at each other trying to comprehend that a year had passed.

After our goodbyes I was able to snap this picture of my three favorite Voronezh ladies as we waved to each other through train windows in a very poignant moment of farewell.

I have tried coming up with ways to describe what it felt like to return to the States after these nine months. In true Meri fashion, the only metaphor that works in my mind is to compare this year to a great book. After turning the last page of a truly compelling novel, one begins to see the world through the lens of the revelations and epiphanies one had reading the book. One sees the world differently and desperately wants those surrounding to also share in these discoveries, but no one else has read that book on that day. Therefore, it is truly impossible to explain the feelings and impressions it invoked without lengthy explanations that almost ruin the fascination of it all. My year in Russia felt a little like that. I came home half expecting everyone to have “read” with me the joys and sorrows, met the new friends, ridden the same train rides, but explaining every bit of it in detail doesn’t come even close to reading the book yourself. Thank you all for reading this blog- at least it gives you a shadowed glimpse of my wonderful year in Russia. And who knows, perhaps there will be another chapter of adventure abroad in a forthcoming “book”. In fact, I’ve already begun the first chapter. Stay tuned!

Siberia

I started off the year with grand plans of taking the transiberian railway from start (Vladivostok) to finish (St. Petersburg), but one look at my budget swiftly altered that plan.  However, I was most fortunate to be able to travel to see Lake Baikal, the world’s deepest freshwater lake and Russia’s pride and joy.

I met Gabby in the Eastern Siberian city of Irkutsk (I flew, she trained…for 55 hours). Although we only had a few hours in “the Paris of Siberia”, we quickly found the knock-off Subway chain before proceeding to a philharmonic concert…in true Meri/Gabby fashion.

The next day we crammed into a marshrutka and started the long journey to the Lake. The journey felt akin to riding a mechanical bull for hours on end except for when we slowed to a crashing halt whenever cows or horses decided to cross the road. Five hours later we were on a ferry to Olkhon Island, the only inhabited island on Baikal. A few hours later we were dropped off in a town called хужир at a hostel owned by a Soviet Gold medal ping pong player. We immediately turned on the heater in our room and went outside to check out the view.

We met a lot of other travelers at the hostel, including a retired teacher from Rochester! We were served breakfast and dinner as part of our stay since besides a rundown grocery store and a few small cafes food is difficult to find on the island.

But don’t worry: there was internet!

We stupidly hadn’t foreseen there would be no ATM on the island (silly American girls), so here we are adding up our money to see what we could afford to do and eat for our three day stay.

Gabby and I went walking, running, biking on a terribly bumpy road, boating on the lake where we met a couple from Rochester, and swimming. The swimming only lasted a few brief minutes since the water was approximately 3 degrees C since Baikal only begins melting at the end of May/ beginning of June.

Boating on the Lake

Biking next to horses

Before doing anything else the day we arrived, we immediately booked a reservation for a marshrutka for early our last morning back to Irkutsk in order to make our train home. Of course the man feigned ignorance when he showed up at the hostel to pick up another man. After a lot of arguing on the secretary’s part and apathetic shrugging on the driver’s, he begrudgingly told us that another van was leaving in an hour. Our next driver was just as reckless and terrifying, but Gabby managed to fall asleep on our way back calling the bumpiness “somehow calming” (as we stopped to let the poor man in the front seat with motion sickness out). We stopped for lunch at a tiny café in a tiny village on a tiny dirt road, and all of a sudden I heard familiar voices. My Estonian friends who live on the floor beneath me were on their way to Olkhon and had just eaten at the café! Even in Siberia it’s a small world.

After our driver drove around Irkutsk for an hour-seemingly aimlessly but apparently with some purpose, he dropped us at the train station and we boarded our train to Yekaterinburg. Since Gabby already had a long trip from Chelyabinsk, she was considerably less excited for our 50+ hour trip to Yekaterinburg. In between chatting with our neighbors and eating kielbasa, I loved staring out the window and watching the scenery change as we made our way West. 

Our fellow passenger Stan insisted on showing me pictures of his home. Of his girlfriend. Of his ex-girlfriend. Of his dacha. Of his apartment. Of him swimming. The worst part was I couldn’t even come up with an excuse to leave. He knew as well as I did that we had hours of train riding left! I was grateful when the kids in my bunk grabbed me to show me the sunset.

Russia passed a law June 1^st outlawing smoking in public places (which included trains) and since it was still early June, we got to enjoy the many battles in between passengers wishing to smoke and the exhausted conductor about the law that now prohibits the wafts of smoke coming from the rooms inbetween the cars that I am so used to after nine months of train rides.

At about hour forty, we had a thirty minute stop in Novosibirsk. Gabby and I left our backpacks on the train, grabbed our passports and one small towel and hurried into the station to find the shower. After literally the fastest shower of my life, we sprinted back to the train dripping wet (a huge no no in Russia since, as my old host mother would say, “the devil will get in your wet hair if you are outside”). The elderly woman in our car was so concerned we wouldn’t make it and let out a huge sigh of relief when we bounded onto the platform with twenty minutes to spare. The woman’s granddaughter, Dasha, spent the first few hours on the train staring at me but would look away as soon as I glanced up. After about seven hours, she came up and put an apple in front of me on the table. I started chatting with her and soon we were playing cards and drawing pictures. 

Waiting for the train with Dasha after our shower

Upon finally arriving in Yekaterinburg, Gabby and I parted ways back to our cities. Even though we didn’t make it all the way to Vladivostok, I am glad we had the chance to experience a small snapshot of Siberian cities, villages, trains, and people.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               

Doubledays take on Russia

Since I am now back in the US of A with access to wifi, I will be publishing posts written a few months ago. Apologies for the delay! 

The day the National Teacher's of English conference ended in Voronezh I hopped on a train to Moscow to surprise my parents at Domodedovo. They were expecting a friend of mine to meet them at the airport since I was involved with the conference. Imagine their delighted surprise when they emerged from Customs Control to find me grinning behind a large sign in Russian " Doubleday"!  We spent two wonderful weeks together exploring St. Petersburg and Moscow. In my eagerness to show them my favorite  places and pack as much into their first two weeks abroad in over 40 years,I earned myself the nickname "Sarge".  After 4 trips to Russia it was interesting for me to see this country through the eyes of my parents.. almost everything they commented on I would respond with "Well, that's different in Voronezh" reminding myself that life in Russian provincial cities is much different from that in the bustling capitals (St. Petersburg by most  is considered a second "cultural capital" of Russia). I warned them that Russians, especially in Moscow, are not generally warm and fuzzy on the street when a foreigner asks for directions or help. They, however, had wonderful luck, and everyone they ran into was polite, patient and helpful.  My mom adored every smelly fish dish I had spent months learning how to tactfully avoid, and my dad was able to find some version of meat and potatoes at every ethnic cuisine restaurant we sampled  (Russian, Georgian, Uzbek, etc). Most of all it was incredible to be on the same continent, in the same place and catch up with my parents without having to walk around holding my phone in every which way in order to get a signal strong enough to hold a conversation. 

I  assumed  seeing my parents would bring me to an all-time homesickness high, but instead it gave me an energy boost to get through the next two months. With recent memories of the many happy faces I left behind at the conference I  found  myself eager to get back to Voronezh as soon as my parents were on their way home. 

Back in Voronezh, Ira and I set off for Zadonsk, about two hours northwest of Voronezh with her mother and 7-year old Sasha in tow. After spending the night at the dacha, we set off early in the morning but kept getting delayed by the presence of cucumbers being sold at the side of the  road. Ira wanted to bring some home, so we had to stop at every stand along the way.  Unfortunately, none passed Ira's mother's standards either by the way they looked or by how much they cost.  When haggling for a lower price didn't work we set off again on the highway keeping a lookout for the next stand. In the end, I don't think we ever ended up getting any cucumbers at all. 

Enjoying the drive

Our first stop in Zadonsk was the men's monastery where the relics  of St. Tikhon are kept. We spent about an hour at the monastery at the relics inside  the largest  main cathedral and outside where the nuns were selling souvenirs. Ira bought Sasha a toy to keep him distracted from the heat and all the grown-up things we were doing. Then after another brief stop at a small women's monastery for fresh bread we travelled to the spring which by tradition St. Tikhon brought forth himself.

A sneaky picture inside the monastery cathedral

We made one final detour on our way home for Sasha at a Safari Park. 

There, much to my surprise, I found camels and ducks with these funny looking crowns on their heads. Even the ducks are different in Russia (or maybe I don't know much about ducks?).

June blog coming soon! 

April in Voronezh

So much has happened these past few months, it is really hard to find a place to begin. Well, first off I experienced my first Pascha/ Easter in Russia at the Voronezh Cathedral, where I have been attending services since my arrival. My friend Kira came to visit for the weekend and brought delicious kulich and cheese pascha which conveniently saved me from attempting that terrifying challenge myself. After the service, we were eager to share the feast with the youth group  I just became a part of. We chatted with them for a few hours and then went home around 6 o’clock to nap before eating more kulich and then climbing to the top of the bell tower. For me, this was very reminiscent of my childhood in Jordanville where we would also ring the bells for hours at a time on Pascha.

During the next week Voronezh held a conference for Russian teachers of English. It was especially interesting to see how professional educational conferences were run here. The sessions were interesting and well-organized, and all events were held on time (a feat for 500 Russians, let me tell you!). This was mostly thanks to my supervisor who was in charge of the entire conference and put the fear of God in any person who even thought about being late, and consequently everything ran uncommonly smoothly.  I was asked to give a presentation and decided to share the wonders of TED talks/TED Radio Hour and their many applications in the classroom. Since public speaking is very, very low on the “things Meri enjoys doing” list, I spent the first part of my session reviewing my notes over and over again while others presented (Ira couldn’t understand my stage fright “this is in your language after all!”). The sweet Russian woman next to me noticed I was leafing through my notes and offered me a few words of encouragement and told me not to be nervous. She then proceeded to ask me if I knew who “ Merdif Dabldi from Ameerrika” was because she came especially to see that presentation. I think I must have been a little different from the exciting American she pictured in her mind, and her query definitely did not help my nerves. In the introduction to my presentation, I explained in a sentence or two where I was from and what I am doing in Voronezh. Apparently a majority of those present missed those critical few lines because afterwards I was congratulated by many for my “almost perfect English”. But, many at the presentation had never heard of TED, so I left satisfied with the topic I had chosen...and with my English.

After all the sessions had finished for the day, each evening there was some sort of cultural celebration. The program always included folk songs, dancing, children playing violins, delicious food and champagne.

Some of the elementary English students even put on an interpretation of Romeo & Juliet in English for all of us, which was delightful and creative. I really enjoyed seeing all of my colleagues together (from both departments) and was grateful for the opportunity to spend some time with them outside of the classroom. Our last night was a full banquet spread with lots of dancing and many warm toasts. Oh, and HUGE balloons. I have never seen balloons like this. I suppose these balloons embody the joyful, festive spirit that Russians have when celebrating any holiday.

I was also able to spend some time with the handful of Americans who came from various places for the conference. We took them on a tour of Voronezh, and I got to see the city as a newcomer all over again. They were all wonderful people, and it was nice to reflect on the conference and Russia itself with them. Below on the left are two of the American participants and on the right two of my Russian colleagues. 

Some of my first year students whom I have just started teaching volunteered at the event which was a great experience for them as well. One of them, Ilya, nervously approached me and asked if he could ask me a question. He pointed to my nametag and asked what “Doubleday” meant. I explained it was my last name. He got a puzzled look on his face and whispered something to the boy next to him. They both then explained that they thought my last name was “death”. Now that I think about this it is actually a very logical conclusion. I always introduce myself as Meri to avoid making them pronounce “th”, but my colleagues always refer to me as Meredith.

Well, Ms. Death needs her sleep right now, but more blogging to come very soon.

Just Another Carpenter Story

Happy Spring, everyone! The weather has fluctuated between freezing and high sixties (surprisingly more of the latter than of the former).  Every month in Russia seems to have its high, low, and comically strange points. To be honest, March had some low points. It took me a few days to identify the fact that I may have been experiencing culture shock again. Which indeed is hard to admit to myself since I have been living here for six months and thought I left culture shock behind back in October, when I first arrived. I always rolled my eyes when being warned that culture shock may “strike at any point”, but indeed it did. An extreme example of this culture shock is the woman who came up to me this morning and started rubbing my leg to make sure I was wearing stockings with my dress (sometimes it is a cultural taboo to not be wearing tights..which I often forget as I always wear ones that match my skin tone).

Enough of that, though. Here are a few of the people and things that have kept life interesting in Voronezh.

A few weeks ago the lights in my bathroom went out. I decided it would be easier to shower in almost total darkness for a few days than to figure out how to change the light bulbs or explain the situation to my komendant (lady in charge of my dormitory). Two days later, I was awakened by an elderly toothless man standing at the entrance of my door rambling Russian words to me that I couldn’t understand since I was…half asleep…still snuggled under my blankets. I eventually put together that he was the carpenter sent to fix my lights and showed him which ones were broken. (Note: this is not the carpenter from my first week. He is still around and threatens to beat up anyone who bothers me and reminds me that he has four eligible bachelor sons).

It took me a few minutes to wake up and realize I hadn’t even told anyone about this issue so how did he know to come? The new carpenter responded to my inquiries by shrugging his shoulders and saying a cleaning lady told him to come. Soon, I heard a loud knock on my door. Two Russian guys were standing at my door and asked if Aleksei was in my room and to tell him he was needed downstairs. I realized I had no idea what the carpenter’s name was and asked if it was Aleksei. He answered by telling me he didn’t believe in names or in patronymics and launched into a rant about religious names and the Bible and “youth today”. While feigning great interest in his ramblings, I gathered my things for Russian class and after about fifteen minutes I interrupted to announce I was late to class and thanked him for his help. He told me to check everything in my room to make sure he didn’t take anything of mine and then went back to staring at my broken light bulb. I never found out his name. And he never figured out how to change the bulb-now there are just a few wires hanging from my ceiling.

In other dorm news, my building now has…drumroll…A real washing machine! It was installed last week in the room with tubs where students handwash their clothes. However, there is a catch to this machine. It costs 100 roubles (~$3.00) to wash your clothes but only accepts 5 rouble coins. Let me be more specific: 5 rouble coins produced after 2009. I have yet to collect enough, but maybe by next week I will have enough to test out this new machine and actually launder my clothes here!

Lent in Russia has also been a different experience. I found an Orthodox youth group at the church I have been attending. They are really wonderful people who have done a lot to make me feel comfortable in Voronezh and are taking me on an excursion this weekend. The best part is that none of them know English, so I am able to immerse myself completely in Russian. (Often my attempts to speak only Russian all day fail when I meet with friends who also want practice speaking English with a native speaker).

Anyways, more to come next week. My mirror broke yesterday, so I am sure I will have an unexpected carpenter visit to share soon.

Sochi 2014 (or how Meri willingly went to a hockey game)

Hello, internet world! I am finally back after an almost two month hiatus. January was a busy month of travel and a Fulbright conference, but I would like to dedicate this post to my trip to Sochi a few weeks ago. I should say extremely spontaneous trip to Sochi, as my decision to go was made very spur of the moment in a very smoky (read: typical Russian) café in Voronezh with my American friend Eric.

After a week of in-service teaching to my colleagues, my host informed me that I had an additional week off before my regular classes resumed. It took me a few hours to put together the fact that I was 600 kilometers from Sochi with a week off. But then one of my students (Vika) from Sochi with whom I have become good friends invited me to come stay with her family during the games, and the rest simply fell into place. Eric wasn’t very keen on figure skating and I wanted to spend as little money as possible, so we agreed on the USA-Slovakia preliminary hockey game and then rushed to the train station to buy tickets for the next morning. I then spent the remainder of the day trying to hunt down an American flag to no avail. Instead I brought a nice paper purse-sized paper flag given to us by the embassy in Moscow. Whatever works, right? I then purchased enough food to last our 27 hour train ride. Yes, you read that correctly. For some reason the train ride is 14 hours longer than the drive. I will never forget the following reaction upon telling my mom I was going to Sochi.

Mom: Sochi? How far is that from you?

Me: Well, twenty seven hours. But considering how big Russia is…

Mom: SEVEN hours? Are you crazy?

The city of Sochi itself was more of an experience than the hockey match. Things like palm trees, recycle bins, and bus schedules made me immediately question if I had somehow left Russia. I even got bold and asked a policeman for help, and he told me to have a good day after giving me directions. I just sort of stared at him until Eric dragged me away (A taste of reverse culture shock?). I have never been through more intense security in my life and even the local express trains kept blaring out the numerous security measures taken on the train “for your peace of mind”. I was rather annoyed with the Western media’s reporting of the Olympics as everyone I interacted with was helpful, kind, and friendly.

By the time we arrived in Sochi, Vika was back in Voronezh, so her mother and sister (Julia and Tanya) met us. I expected that we would be crashing on couches in their family’s apartment. However, they are almost finished building a house where they generously put us up for the night. So after showering us with welcome gifts, Julia and Tanya brought us to their new home to settle us in. The house was so thoughtfully and carefully set up for us complete with a stocked fridge (probably enough food for at least a month), comfortable beds, and more presents. This, my dear readers, is a prime example of Russian hospitality! After gaping about us with awe at such generosity, we left our bags and made our way to the Olympic Park.

Note the palm trees

The Olympic Park had a really festive atmosphere and was absolutely enormous. We ran into many Americans (even families of some of the athletes!) and answered questions/translated for many of them.
 

Although we purchased the cheapest tickets we could get, and at the last minute, we somehow scored seats in the second row right behind the American team. I am not sure how this happened, and Eric and I spent the first few minutes wondering if we were in the wrong seats. We sat next to a bunch of NBC employees and interns and chatted with a few of them during the game. I left the stadium almost without a voice and definitely without a better understanding of hockey and in utter disbelief that I had witnessed an Olympic event.

Goal!

The next morning, Tanya was at our door and ready with an itinerary to help us see as much as we could before our return train. She met us at 7am, and a little after dawn we were already at the Black Sea. I was dying to go swimming but didn't have my suit with me, so I rolled my pants up and waded in as far as I could.

We spent the rest of the day walking around Krasnaya Polyanka where the major ski events were taking place. Tanya explained that the ski resort village, the shops and even the river were all created for the Olympics. 

After being given more presents, sustenance for the train, and open invitations for future visits, we rushed off to the train. I think we spent more time on the train than in Sochi, but it was definitely worth it for the experience of (probably) my only Olympics.