One Month In

I am back to being a student. And it is such a good feeling! I have begun Russian classes that are conveniently held in the international dorm right next to me. Little did I know there would be so many different nationalities among my fellow students (from America, Britain, France, Estonia, Belgium, China, Germany, etc) studying in Voronezh. I have been placed with a group of Brits and have ten hours of Russian a week including conversation, grammar, “Russian verbs”, and translation. A lot of it should be review for me, but I am appreciative of the chance to relearn the material as my Russian unfortunately got pretty rusty over the summer. (Laura Givens, I know you’re reading this- I am relieved you are not here to witness my struggles conjugating obscure verbs of motion like herding cattle in many directions!).

I went on an excursion with the other international students to Divnogore, a town about 3 hours from Voronezh. Divnogore (Дивногорье) is a combination of two Russian words – “divno” meaning marvelously or wonderfully and “gora” meaning mountain. As the name suggests there is an abundance of mountains and caves there.  What makes them “divno” is the fact that they are created from natural limestone/chalk.This is the main limestone “mountain” - it is actually a 17^th century chalk cave church. 

Although the church itself was very bare (I don’t think it is open very often), we walked through the tunnels surrounding the church with candles to view the rest of the cave. There were even two levels- on the second floor was a small chapel room and a room for eating meals. 

Here I am enjoying the view with the other Americans in our international group. 

I also completed a week full of Voronezh cultural experiences, including three concerts with new Russian friends. Yes, you read that correctly. I have Russian friends now. They are few, but they exist! Forcing myself to be extroverted is paying off. The first concert we attended was a famous Russian singer popular among most middle-aged Russians named Alexander Rosembaum. I went with a Russian who received a Fulbright grant to Texas a few years ago! I wasn’t a huge fan of the music, but the concert was in Voronezh’s opera and ballet theater which was cool to see.
(Edit: I forgot to mention the flower-giving that occurred during this concert. In between every song, and I mean every song, a man or woman would walk up onto the stage with a bouquet of flowers to give to Rosembaum. At first I found this extremely distracting as every time he would bow or begin a new song, someone else was coming up to hand him flowers. His stack of flowers on the stage was huge! But then I decided that I liked the tradition- you are able to meet your favorite artists and give them a token of your affection! I wish this was a tradition at the Zooey Deschanel concert I went to this summer....) 
 The second was a Philharmonic concert I attended with a girl on my hall. It was some sort of Russia tour of contemporary symphonic music, and we somehow got seats next to the composers of the pieces! I have never before seen a balalaika used in symphony concerts, so I can cross that off the list of things to do before I die. The last was an electronic music concert by Moscow/British DJs. I went to this concert with some of the other English teachers and their husbands. Their husbands were very eager to show me that they had whiskey from Tennessee. And Cuban rum (they have all been to Cuba and make sure to tell the American all about it). When drinking, Russians make toasts about every five minutes, and, as the night progressed, they came up with many creative ones incorporating my name : “to Merrri- Merry Christmas!”, “To Merrrri- Merry times!”. One of the Russians also made me an omelet and was really excited to show me that she was using mayonnaise in it (???). Which reminded me that most Russians 1. Think Americans love mayo and use it on everything, and 2. Actually use so much more mayo in one week than I have used in my life.

Besides these events, I have been continuing to adjust to dorm life. Every night there is a 11pm curfew even though the RA ladies sit at the desk all night regardless. I didn’t anticipate it being a huge problem but many events in Voronezh don’t begin until 10pm. As one of the Americans doing his graduate work in Russia stated, “I am 35 and balding but I have a curfew!”. I have also discovered that apparently one can “bribe” the RA ladies in the other dorm with flowers and/ or chocolates in exchange for  the key to the one washing machine in the basement. So then the other international students went to the head of our building and received “official stamps” on “official papers” stating that we are allowed to use the washing machines, but our RAs ,alas, were unmoved. So now I'm left to puzzle out exactly how one washes jeans by hand....   But I digress.

Lastly, I have experienced a wave of homesickness for the first time. I guess it is right on time- I have been here for about a month. Last week was especially hard for me as my dad had a heart scare and was briefly hospitalized. I have never felt so far from home. Yet, thanks to modern technology, I was reminded how easy it for now for me to contact family when needed. I have heard from my parents that they have received an incredible amount of support during these last few weeks. So, thank you everyone at home!

Wait. When did I become a teacher?

My first week of classes has gone well. I have given the same presentation about America and my hometown about nine times at this point and will give it a few more times next week. On Friday, I was awakened in the morning by a phone call from a teacher at the international relations faculty located in a different district of the city and was asked to come in to discuss my schedule and drink tea. I hurriedly threw on some clothes and met the students who were sent from the faculty to guide me to that unfamiliar territory that is the “Northern District” of the city. They were excited to have an official reason to skip class. When I arrived, my contact, Anastasia, exclaimed “Oh good, you’re just in time to teach!”. Before I knew it I was in front of twenty 1^st year English students gazing at me eagerly. Thankfully, since I had practiced my introductory lesson a million times already with my other students I was able to recreate a fun introductory class on the spot, without all of my supplies (lesson learned: always be prepared with materials even when there is no apparent sign of needing them. Rookie first-year teacher mistake). Every forty-five minutes I was whisked away by my contact to another class of shy, big-eyed students. After four such classes, I finally sat down with my contact, and she explained that, just as at the applied sciences faculty, the students have English for a three hour period every couple days. I will be a “guest lecturer” for 45 minutes with as many classes as they can fit into my schedule. Basically, my students are at varying levels of English…and interest in English...or in me. Some classes bombard me with question after question, and some just stare at me as if I were an alien....and an alien they have no desire to communicate with who insists on asking them questions about themselves in an attempt to break the ice and get to know them better . And they are ALL named Sergei or Sasha. One class of 16 has 4 Sergeis. I guess that makes life easier. I have a 25% chance of being right when I guess their names!

In other news, dorm life has significantly improved. I have purchased matches so I can now use the stove. One of the other students helped me make pasta (I did not exaggerate when I wrote I do not know how to cook anything). Ira stops by every day or so with her five year old son, Sasha, to give me random things she knows I need. An iron. Prettier curtains. Shoe polish (Russians compulsively clean their boots. They always look so nice). A tub to hand-wash my clothes in. Fresh fruit from her dacha. A space heater. She’s a saint. Sasha knows a little English and constantly whispers questions in Ira’s ear asking how to say things in English and then proudly states his newly learned English words to me with a wide grin. He calls me Mary Poppins. I foresee a great friendship in the future.

I tried using the space heater one especially cold night and accidentally blew a fuse and my whole section of the dorm lost power. Oops. I braced myself for what I knew would be a failed attempt at explaining/apologizing for what happened. The lady RAs at the front desk listened to my broken Russian with listlessness and proceeded to ever so slowly and apathetically state that there was nothing they could do. All of a sudden three guys came down to report that they also lost power even though they had nothing plugged in. The women then proceeded to roll their eyes, call the electrician, and give the boys a loud, stern lecture about their “selfish use of television…electric tea kettles…refrigerators…” as I surreptitiously shrunk away from the scene. The ladies knew perfectly well it was my fault. I swear one of them winked at me. I forgot that even if they seem disinterested/ utterly annoyed at my ever-failing attempts at communication and apology, they really do appreciate it in their own way- even though they will never admit it. Thankfully, the heat has since turned on, but I now keep my windows open because it’s way too warm in my room. Russia is a land of extremes. We have since lost power a couple more times, but I shrug it off now, knowing at least it's not my fault.

At one highlight of my week, I was in contact with some fellow Americans! O. Nikolai Olhovksy wrote me an email saying that the Kursk Root Icon would be arriving at the Voronezh airport for a quick moleben on Wednesday.  The world keeps getting smaller and smaller. I took a taxi to the airport and waited for the delegation to arrive. At first, there were only about fifty people waiting, but all of a sudden flocks of Russian babushki came out of the woodwork. There must have been literally hundreds of them. I argued with some of the Russian police as I attempted to shove my way to the front to look for O. Nikolai.  After straining to find him, I finally did and he brought me into a special room in the airport and introduced me to some of the clergy of Voronezh. I was able to venerate the icon when it was returned to the room. It was difficult for me to wrap my head around the fact that I had just seen and venerated this icon a few weeks ago in Jordanville and here hundreds (thousands? I’m bad at crowd estimates…) of people stood outside for hours to simply catch a glimpse of it. It was comforting to see familiar faces and converse in English with native speakers for a bit. My original taxi driver, Sergei, made me take his number and offered to pick me up when I was done. In between, he had apparently told all of his close ones about his interaction with an American and had a list of follow -up questions to ask on our drive home.

 

On Saturday, some of my second year students organized a sort of excursion for me to see the city and an excuse to practice their English with me. They took me on an eight hour (!) walking tour, showing me some of their favorite sites while teaching me useful slang and asking questions about stereotypes and American psychology...and McDonalds. They took me by the riverbank and were eager for me to test out my BB gun skills.

We then explored the main part of the city. Here we find the obligatory “Lenin square” of the city. 

Some of them were eager to debut their home-recorded music, recite poems to me, or explain the complicated mathematical concept they learned that day. Russian college students have classes on Saturdays- the concept of a “weekend off” is foreign to them. Reason #230423 I appreciate my college education more since arriving here. I left with a better grasp of the geography of the city, an appreciation for the curiosity and intellect of Russian teenagers, and a strong desire to go home and collapse. I sometimes feel as though I have to think through everything I say before I answer any of their questions. They analyze my answers and ask multiple follow -up questions. I also have been fighting the urge to use articles incorrectly and say “some peoples”. I’m forgetting English (The English? Just kidding. I swear I remember articles).  Saturday is Russian wedding photoshoot day, and we saw probably eleven or twelve weddings. How many brides can you spot?

Today is my day to hide in a cozy café, plan a lesson for the week, and decompress. I am eating this delicious salad called “salat olivye”. 

It was also featured recently in this list I came across of typical Russian foods. It is one of the few things I was fed by my host mom in St. Petersburg besides hotdogs and therefore I now have an instinctual desire to constantly order it for fear that the alternative will be stale Russian hotdogs.

Settling In

Well, I have made it to Voronezh in one piece. After a couple of hours of confusion and arguing about my ticket payment I finally made it onto the right train. I had all eyes staring at me as I lugged my 50-plus pound suitcase through the platskarta car (one of the lower economy classes on the train which has 6 "bunks" in each car, and everyone is able to walk through them, making the car technically safer though considerably less private).  Eight hours later, we arrived in Voronezh, and my bunkmate helped me maneuver my suitcase off the train and then gave me his contact information if I ever needed anything. Until this point, I had felt confident in everything but as I exited the train I realized how much unknown lay ahead. Fortunately, one of the younger teachers was waiting to meet me. She brought me to the dorm in which I will be living and made me wait while she and the elderly woman "RA" attempted to reach various strong men in various dorm rooms in order to find someone to carry up my suitcase (I swear it was not that heavy! I forgot that in Russia it is such a no-no for a woman to lift more than a grain of rice). Then she kindly brought me to her friend's house for a much appreciated homecooked meal of borscht and plov. The next morning, the young teacher, Ira, and I went to the main mall in the city and bought a number of things for my new room. The English department bought me a microwave and an electric kettle yesterday (I didn't think I should tell them that my history with microwaves is fraught with mishaps). It has already snowed twice in Voronezh, but today is a little warmer and feels a little bit like an autumn day. They haven't turned the heat on yet, so Ira brought me some tape to put on the windows. 

 I have a room with two small beds, a dresser, an ancient fridge, and a small bathroom. Here are a few photos. 

This broom was also left by the last person for me. 

Not sure how much use I will get out of it, but I am keeping an open mind.

I'm very thankful to have somewhere cheap to live that is also safe (everyone must present ID and the dorm closes at 11pm sharp). It is also in the center of the city right next door to the largest cathedral in the city - a beautiful church. I have a feeling I will get along well with all the women who take turns sitting at the desk (I have been sent back upstairs a few times to dress more warmly and have received multiple lectures on safety). At first, I didn't think I had hot water but then was informed that the hot water is only available from 10am-6pm. Oh, and also, the cold nob means hot on my shower and vice versa. Because, why make sense? Every time that I have showered a giant pool of water forms in my bathroom, so yesterday I spent a few hours putting together a makeshift shower curtain/curtain rod. I feel very accomplished; It has only fallen down once. Not only am I learning how to live in Russia- I am learning how to really live on my own for the first time.

 There is one washing machine in the dorm next to me, but I am apparently not allowed to use it because I don't live there. The people in my dorm all handwash their clothing in the basement. I guess I can either suck it up and buy a tub to wash in or...just keep buying underwear.

Somebody, not sure who, called a carpenter for me. My closet doesn't have shelves or a pole and is kept closed by bent nails, so I am hopeful that he will fix it all for me. The carpenter's eyes grew wide when he learned I was an American. He immediately asked the two questions I have been peppered with the most: "You have husband? You like Obama?". That experience and other similar ones this week reminded me that being an American in Voronezh is not nearly as common as being one in St. Petersburg or Moscow. I have already been the first American that many of these people have met. Their wonder and curiosity about where I am from and their eagerness to tell me either that it is their dream (they often use that word specifically) to see New York or California or how adamantly they despise America is something I will never get used to. The questions I receive vary immensely, but each time the experience reminds me how fortunate I am to be able to see other parts of the world up close. 

I met my main contact who explained that I will be teaching 16 hours a week at two "faculties" or departments. Each class consists of about 15 students and meets for two hours. Unfortunately, I only see each class every other week, so learning all of their names will be a challenge (Ira told me they are all named Sasha anyways). 

Yesterday, I went to church at the large cathedral next door and then explored the city a little bit. I haven't seen too much, but I like Voronezh a lot so far. There is a beautiful river in the middle of it, and I am quite close to everything that is in the center of the city. The mall I went to on Saturday is a giant-6 stories structure with a movie theater, restaurants, grocery store, high end stores like Boss and Zara, and about a million shoe stores (of course I had to buy Russian boots right away). The country girl in me was overwhelmed from the hustle and bustle of the city and was happy to find this park.

I'm looking forward to exploring the city more when I have a better idea of where things are...and when I finally learn my own address and how to get home. The Offspring and Limp Bizkit are coming to Voronezh next month. Almost everyone I talk to has already asked if I am going to see them. 

I was also recently reminded of the trials and tribulations of anyone trying to get through Russian bureaucracy. I went to register (one has to register in a city within 7 days or face large fines and the possibility of not being allowed to return to Russia). Ira went with me and basically spoke on my behalf for a good portion of the time.I spent most of the time confused and thanking my lucky stars that I had her with me. Then we went back and forth between five different offices to try to find out what I need to live in the student dorm. Apparently, I need to get a medical exam in order to live in the dorm. I assumed this meant a physical and possibly an HIV test. ACTUALLY, it means that I have to see 8 doctors including a surgeon, infectious disease specialist, and a therapist (there is talk about a 9th doctor, but I didn't catch what type of specialist they were arguing about). I also need another blood test, urine test, and xrays of my lungs (since TB is such a problem). Everyone we have spoken with, which is probably about 14-15 people, has told me different things about the ORDER in which I need to do these things (apparently this matters a lot?). I'm hoping to get out of as much of this as possible so I can begin focusing on teaching. On that note, I'm off to teach my first class!