5/26. Tuesday...

I’ve learned that my class schedule is subject to change. Which is silly, because I have an Architecture class to schedule bi-weekly around my Russian classes. As of right now, I have Russian from 12:50pm to 4pm Monday through Wednesday. Thursday and Friday, my class begins at 9:30am and lasts until 12:40. This week, my Thursday class is in an entirely different building. I can only hope I find it.

I went to school about an hour early because I’m really into the book I’m reading and wanted to enjoy it by the Neva. It was so beautiful and warm today. I made my way over to the edge and stood against a stone railing, which curved outwards toward the river. I was perfectly content, until I started feeling uncomfortable. I’ve always been observant, but my senses have heightened since this is a very new place. I kept seeing the same man walk toward me, move slower while he was right around where I was standing, and then after I’d give him my best evil eyes, he’d walk away and disappear for a bit. I changed my location because after he did it the first time, I got paranoid he was going to rob me or something. Then he came back and left, and starting walking back again. Even though I was giving him the best disgusted, get out of here looks I could muster up! I decided to head into school 20 minutes early because the way he kept looking at me was off and making me uncomfortable. I stood in the lobby getting my ID out of my bag, and saw the man walking up the school. I just thought, “You’ve got to be kidding me”. I showed my ID and went through the turnstile as the man walked through the door. I rushed up the steps and ducked onto the 2^nd floor towards my class. Then I realized my class wasn’t open yet, and walked back to the stairwell. I didn’t know where he was so I just waited behind a pillar, looking as shady as a nervous bank robber I’m sure. Sure enough, as I was coming out of hiding, the man walked right by me. He was walking away from the stairs, which was tremendous news, so I booked it upstairs to a break room. It’s a big open space with lots of people and desks to read or write at. I didn’t see him again, but was super uncomfortable. Maybe he was a student or maybe he was a stalker. I don’t intend on finding out.    

Class today was good. We are moving at a vigorous pace as my teacher (the one for Monday, Tuesday, and Fridays) told us. She was a little unpredictable today. We would be moving at an alright pace through exercises, but if someone stumbled, she would get a little irate and start yelling about paying attention and how the pronunciation wasn’t good enough. At home, I’ve gotten used to the sweet and loving Russian tone spoken by my host mother, and finally again by her mother, Tamara. I haven’t seen host-babushka in over a week. Anyway, this loud shouting was an honest new experience for me. Luckily, the yelling was not at me. She likes my handwriting and pronunciation apparently. This particular teacher also likes to announce when students have done a good job and when they have done a poor job.   One thing I’ve noticed about not just this teacher, but two from the other group I was in as well; they pick favorites and sort of utilize this favorite to make the other people in the classroom feel inferior. In my last class, it was Sylvie, a girl a little older than myself from Switzerland who was learning the language with little to no problem. If one student couldn’t answer the question, the teacher would roll their eyes and ask Sylvie to say the correct answer. Sylvie would oblige because what other choice did she have? Say the wrong answer and then risk being reprimanded with everyone else? It’s frightening being scolded in Russian! So, I guess…I have become this class’ “Sylvie”.

My weekdays have been ending pretty much the same way for the last week. I end up at McDonalds, checking emails, writing them, updating le blog, and chatting with my most lovely and wonderful friends and family back home. And, of course, my haiku master J

5/25. First day of school, round 2.

My first day of class with a new teacher and new group. We went through the alphabet, talked about proper annunciation, worked through some vocabulary words, and called it a day. Elena, my teacher for Mondays, Tuesdays, and Fridays, is extremely articulate. She says that is what the Russian language is famous for and expects nothing less than perfect Russian from us. I am one of 6 students, and the only girl.

From what I can tell, class is going to be exactly as she describes; vigorous. Above all other things, I’m looking forward to being able to communicate with my host family. being able to ask for things in public properly will be nice, but I want to talk to the people I live with! I know Tamara has lived through so much change in this country; I just want to know what she knows.

I felt like this in Mexico last year. Luckily, I have a structured and “vigorous” program ahead of me to help quench my thirst for conversation. Vigorous…RAWR. So aggressive. 

5/24. The Hermitage

...i'll fill this in with something soon.

5/23. .....ITS SATURDAY!!!!!!

Today was cloudy and rainy. I didn’t leave the house once today. It was amazing and just what I needed. Irina and her boyfriend left around 1 to go to the ballet, so I took full advantage of having a house to myself. I pranced around, listened to ABBA really loudly, did dishes, cleaned my room, took pictures of the house to put on the blog, showered, did laundry… tweezed my eyebrows… Basically everything I could have done to either pamper myself or organize.

I ate dinner with Irina and her boyfriend when they came home. That was awkward haha. At one point, Irina left us alone for a few minutes, and I’m pretty sure he was thinking the same thing J

I finished the night writing letters, and watching a movie. Sometimes it feels great to run around, finish errands, see sites, ponder your existence in this world… but other times it is just as productive and fulfilling to enjoy the simplicity that is drinking tea at your kitchen table and writing a letter to a friend. 

5/22. FRIDAY YAY!!!!!!!

I had class at 9:30 this morning, so there was no dilly-dallying around the house. I was up and out and in comfy moccasin shoes by 8:30. After multiple calculations and thorough testing, I’ve determined that it is a 45-minute commute. It is about 50 in heels but that has only been tested once so that information shouldn’t be cited.

Today was pretty normal. Not as stressful in class as Thursday. I think it’s because the teacher is less intimidating. She seems less crazy. Also, the room was a more comfortable temperature. I found out I’ll be starting with my new group on Monday! YAY!!

Before leaving school, I ran into Diana (from Colombia). I can make small talk in Spanish, and can understand most of what she’s saying in her language, so I’m trying to use that as much as possible until my Russian is adequate for conversation. She can definitely speak English; she just has a really hard time understanding in class. The teachers go from Russian to English the whole time. Spanish is rarely if ever spoken in Russia, and never used at school. She was probably so lost when she first got here. Oh well, we’re buddies now, so no more of this being lost and alone business. If you can’t speak even the tiniest bit of another language, please go and do that.

I went to pick up my registration after taking a walk by myself around the Neva River. Ann-Karin ended up being really booked all day so I took advantage of having no plans, and explored.

It was funny, I was in this great mood after talking to Diana (we’re planning on hanging out a lot), and so I left for my self guided walking tour, turned on my iPod and “Jerk” by Muscles (please, please listen to this) came on which is such a great song. I’m laughing right now reliving this J. So I walked outside, and all I wanted to do was dance around the streets and sing “WOOOOOO!!!” throwing a fist in the air each time that part played in the song, but KNEW that would not be acceptable on the streets of St. Petersburg. So I tried to walk like a straight-faced/hardcore/freakin’ Russian, but just kept giggling. This went on for the duration of the song. My heart is happy when I think about this strange and beautiful moment.

I walked next to the Neva, down the street next to the main building of my pretty pink school, through an unkempt garden path leading to the military museum (they have a military museum?!). I walked back to the main building to wait for an hour until the office would let me pick up my registration, and found myself in the middle of the annual Philology and Arts celebration. Apparently this is a celebrated day in St. Petersburg. The study and teaching of languages is looked upon and commemorated each year…isn’t that awesome? They release this huge pyramid of balloons into the sky, listen to music in their big courtyard of statues and manicured bushes, and as the women walk around in, yes you guessed it, heels, the men take pictures and smile. I wrote my Dad a letter as I observed this glorious event.

I beat the crowd to the Registration office, talked with Ann-Karin for a bit, and made my way back to the Metro. Oh and I saw Sul-ki at the office too. She’s actually here to become a missionary. She’s invited me to her church next Sunday, which I obviously said yes to. Who wouldn’t want to attend a Korean Protestant Church service in Russia? I wonder if they stand during their services. Did you know they didn’t/don’t have pews in Churches here? They embrace the sacrificing for your Lord concept.

Something I’ve noticed about Petersburg is that the weather is truly unpredictable. It can be a beautiful summer day when you wake up and leave the house, but by the time you’re leaving your job or school, its raining and grey. The weather has a tendency to change hourly. It also doesn’t really get dark till 11pm. Like right now, it is 10:21 pm and I can see everything outside my window perfectly. For those who go out and wish to explore and party till all hours of the evening, it is perfection. For those of us who go to bed by 11, we need the blinds. The White Nights of June shall be spectacular.

Look up the White Nights in St. Petersburg if you don’t know what I’m talking about. 

5/21. School is hard, please please put me in a different class.

Today was hard. It had nothing to do with registration…in fact it was the first day I wasn’t hassled about getting it done/trying to figure out how and where on earth to do it. I got to sleep in which was beautiful, but as I left the house, I realized wearing heels was such a bad idea. I felt like I fit in a little better, and arguably looked a little nicer, but my comfort level was at an all time low.

Then I got to school and it went lower. I am in need of a beginner class. I like the people who are in my class, and my teachers for the most part, but I am really struggling picking up what is being taught. There are so many basics I have yet to learn, being in the group I’m in just makes me feel like I’m wasting time and incompetent.

I left class with Bennoit and Sul-ki who tried to make me feel a little better by re-stating that it’s a hard language and that I shouldn’t worry. I can grasp that it’s difficult; I just wish I hadn’t spent one of my precious weeks in a class way over my head.

Monday…Lets just hope Monday is better.

I’m going to try and explain something that used to be foreign to me. Throughout the past few years, when I would go abroad or was thinking about Vancouver for school, and then decided on Bar Harbor, I didn’t worry about how far away I was going or how it might effect my friendships/relationships. These places were just locations I had to go to because the universe or something was telling me that it was the right place right at that time. I thought it was silly to make those kind of big decisions based on what someone else was doing or wanted you to do. If I had to go, those who supported me would stay in contact and I with them. That was that.

I’ve never been away like this while being in a relationship. It changes everything. I am happy I’m here and know that what I come out of the experience with will be useful and wonderful and more than I could have imagined, but my heart still hurts when I can’t talk to him. Yeah… I can see why people make decisions with their significant others in mind. It completely affects your happiness, even if you are in your dream location.  

Also, don’t take this as me wanting to come home. I’m just saying my heart hurts sometimes. I’m…expressing myself.

Irina has/had her boyfriend over (I’m not sure anymore… I haven’t opened the door in a while….)

And on a school night too. Oh hell, I’ll just let the kids have fun.

5/20. Registration success! And I make a new friend again!

Today was crazy as predicted. I went back to the registration building at noon, but was met with bad news. I would need to navigate myself over to the new building because they had changed locations for a renovation! So since I didn’t have a choice, I wondered around for a bit. I went into two possible Registration locations, but was wrong both times. I called Dasha and told her I had no idea where I was going. She explained that if I went back to the Philology and Arts faculty building, room 14, I would find Maksim, who would then show me where the new building was.

I feel like a child everywhere I go. I really like doing things by myself and take pride in my independence and common sense. Situations like these, however, make me feel so needy. Needy is good sometimes, but being this needy for an entire week is starting to get to me.

Maksim helped me find the building (turns out I needed to go around the second building, locate another building a little further down the driveway, find a door behind some trucks that were unloading things from the old building, head up 1 flight of stairs, go down a small corridor of chairs, enter the room at the end of the hall, and go in the door to the left.) We filled out the registration application, but as Maksim continued to make little mistakes with some of the information he was putting down (Oh, and he was filling this out for me because the registration application is all in Russian), we later found out that that would lead us to having to fill it out again. They gave us another application, and told us to come back with it done in an hour. They were going to have lunch.

But, being the optimist I am, this was actually for the better. I ended up getting to meet a Norwegian girl (with perfect English!) named Ann-Corinne. She helped me fill out my document the second time (and then the third time because I messed up on something). She was registering again because she had gone back to Norway for the weekend to be with her boyfriend, and each time you re-enter Russia you are supposed to register again. She is once of the loveliest people I’ve ever met. She was in Russia about 2 years ago, studying for a semester with one of her close friends. She said she had an amazing time and was partying and learning and looking forward to returning. Between then and now, she has been in Russia since September, but explained that it wasn’t the same kind of experience this time. The long distance is starting to really get to her boyfriend and since he is THE boyfriend, she’s just looking forward to school being over and being back in Norway with him. Ah...love...

We’re going together on Friday to pick up our registration. I finish class at 1pm on Fridays, so we’re getting lunch first. Ah lunch….such a foreign thing...and not at this McDonalds I’m always at either!!! 

5/19. Registration Fail.

Today…was interesting. I woke up around 8 (I got maybe 6 hours of sleep this time! Yay improvement!), hurried to school so that I could get on the Internet for a bit, and headed off to school for class.  The teacher today was wonderful. Her English is great and she’s very enthusiastic. Unfortunately we decided that it might be better if a new class was started for myself and three other boys (I think two are from China, and the other from Taiwan). I can imagine its frustrating for the teacher to have the class split in half with really new people and those who are getting close to fluency. I went upstairs to what us Americans might call the Registrar’s Office and my teacher explained the dilemma. They said they’d have a new class set up as soon as possible…so probably Monday. I sat and listened for a while until 3 when I needed to go and get registered.

REGISTRATION IS A NIGHTMARE IF YOU DON’T SPEAK RUSSIAN.

It was a lovely 15-minute walk to the building where registration takes place, and I found the building I was told to go to without any problems, but upon requesting to be register…I encountered problems. The woman who was supposed to help me was in a terrible mood, and told me she couldn’t do it. I tried to explain that it was my last day to take care of it and she said “It is impossible to do it today, I have to go, I’m busy.”

And then I was like “A’SCUSE MEEE?!?!”. Not really but I was perturbed. I called Dasha who works at the school to explain what was going on and she said she would call and see what was going on. She reported back that everything would be fine if I went on Wednesday at noon to register. Side note, I walked to and from the main building to this registration building at least 3 times and the same group of men smoking kept staring at me like I was crazy and foreign. I may or may not be… That is still pending. I go back tomorrow though so hopefully things work out smoothly. Though if today was any indication of how smoothly things go, tomorrow should be strange and uncomfortable as well. Hooray.

I walked back to the Metro and headed home for some dinner. It’s a workout just commuting to and from school. I feel like I’m in a mosh pit during rush hour waiting to get into the metro station, or when I’m getting back on the escalator leaving the metro. You know when you’re being pushed against railings and would fall over if there weren’t people smashed against you on every side. That is what it feels like. Haha and the reason for this is that only one door is opened to get into the building; once you’re through the door, its relatively calm. There are a few doors that could let more people in, but they only open one. Maybe this helps with the moshing on the inside of the building. In a significantly smaller space, that would undoubtedly be worse.

I got home and was really exhausted.  Being stressed out about documentation, having enough money to pay for those pieces of documentation, knowing where you’re going, and trying to understand people/get people to understand you is tiring if you haven’t tried it. I ate dinner, put on comfy clothes, and climbed into bed around 6:30 I wanted to go to sleep but there was no way I was going to risk getting off this close to normal sleep schedule I was now on. Irina went out to do something for a few hours. We’re still and will be for a while, at that place where we don’t really know what the other person is doing. For example, I have no idea where my surrogate grandmother is. She went away Sunday night and I haven’t seen her since. Maybe she leaves for the weekdays, maybe she has friends she’s visiting, or maybe she has a boyfriend who lives far from here…I just don’t know.

I think about the day when everything clicks. I’m going to ask so many questions about these first few weeks where I had no idea what was going on… Soon enough.

5/18. My first day of Skewl.

Unlike CoA, when we get work here…that is your work. There isn’t any “well this is all due tomorrow, but if you haven’t started your work for the next 2 weeks, then you’ll kind of be really behind during the discussions this week.”

Also, I love learning languages…probably because I love to talk. I think it’s the alphabet that puts a lot of people off from learning to speak Russian. Also..the pronunciation is crazy. Sometimes it’s an “oo” sound, sometimes it’s “a”…you never really know unless you know what the word is you’re trying to say and have said it before. I like it though. I have wonderful classmates too. There are 9 kids there, but I’ll probably get closest to just a few. Stewy is from Thailand, Bennoit is from Quebec City, Diana is from Colombia, and Sul-ki is from Korea. Bennoit sat next to me and was a lifesaver. The teacher for Mondays and Fridays doesn’t speak any English, and since I was about 3 weeks behind the rest of the class, Bennoit helped translate a lot for me. Eventually I won’t need help anymore, but since this was my first day, I’m going to say it was ok to have help.

Bennoit has such a sweet story. He’s interested in Russian Politics and that was the initial reason for coming to Russia last year. THEN HE MET A RUSSIAN GIRL AND FELL MADLY IN LOVE. It’s precious when they talk on the phone. They had met online before he showed up last year and soon after he arrives, they started dating seriously. He wanted to stay longer for this visit to be with her, so he signed up for an educational program. If you’re a student you can stay for 3 months, which is significantly longer than what tourist visa allows. She works in a Museum and really enjoys her job so she has no reason to come to the states/Canada with him, but he did say she would come visit him next.

The rest of the day was pretty uneventful. I spoke with my family and Jason which was wonderful and then headed home. McDonalds and their free wifi is brilliant, ps. I have to register with the police tomorrow otherwise they get angry and will make it hard for me to come back. It isn’t hard so it should take only an hour. Whoot!

5/17. Sergei teaches me the lay of the land..

I think I would love jetlag if I were looking to stay up all night for a few days. I couldn’t fall asleep until 6 (Boo 12 mg of melatonin not doing a darn thing), and then needed to be up by 11 to eat and go to the metro.

Nevsky Prospekt is glorious. This is where Sergei walked me around. Sites like the Cathedral of Spilt Blood, The Stroganoff’s “personal” cathedral, Paul the 1^st fortress were a few places we visited. Oh Paul the 1^st… Those bastards smothered him with a pillow and beat his head in. The public was told he had heart problems. He had a closed casket funeral to hide obvious damages to his noggin. Incredible architecture that I’m sure I’ll be able to describe better once my Architecture course begins. 

Most of the rulers following Peter The Great were women, which is something I found fascinating. Why in the United States are we so afraid of women leading cities and states when examples exist of incredible leaders. No wonder no one was aloud into Russia ..They didn’t want outsiders stealing their great ideas. No but really. We hate on Communism without even knowing where it originated within Russia. A world where you did what you were good at (medicine, painting, dancing, etc), and that career you had was supported by the government. Sure it was idealistic, and did succeed in many ways, but like all governments, it also had its flaws. Those flaws happen to be the only thing we talk about though. I mean a valid point would be that the goals originally being striven for have since gone way off track in the past 15 years. Sergei keeps telling me this is a big time for change… Ah what a tremendous time to be in the USSR.

Lunchtime arrived…so we got pies. So yummy and Sergei made me try and order myself. Ah…so good. I’m so bad. I don’t care. I’m pretty sure one of them had cheese in it because my stomach is going crazy. Being vegan for 6 months (whoot whoot!!) and then introducing dairy back into the diet can wreak havoc on your innards. I love that word. Anywho, we talked about politics and the media’s incredible influence on a public’s knowledge of things. It was fascinating talking about how the knowledge Russians obtain from newspapers comes pretty much just from papers written in Russian. This leaves them with an extremely biased view of things unless they can read other languages and look at other papers from around the world. I brought up the New York Times. Though it is an incredible paper, who reads it? The intellectuals or those working to make ends meat? The ones who can de-code their crazy flowery wording? Conservatives or Liberals? It definitely has its own biases that you might not recognize unless you did your research (Thanks Doreen). Sergei wouldn’t have thought twice about NYTimes having biased articles because it is so well known around the world and therefore “should be” an impartial view. Think again Sergei!!

We walked back to Dom Knigi (House of books) and I waited for Rachel. I don’t think Rachel and I have ever really had a conversation until this afternoon. She leaves next Monday for a month. She’s trekking to the other side of Russia and back. What a brave young lass.  

I’m getting better at the Metro. This trip involved going to a different station so I had my thinking cap on. So epic. But in all honesty, someone who can’t read Russian could totally get around. They color code everything J

5/16. My family doesn't speak any English.

I awake at 1 p.m. I’ve had weird dreams of playing softball all night, and being booed off the field for not doing well. I believe someone was flipped off. I don’t know what this means.

Irina pulled me into the kitchen for some breakfast. We aren’t talking much at this point because its scary and we’re both nervous about making mistakes. She leaves me to go and watch T.V and I spend the next three hours sitting at the table writing translations of commonly used phrases and words. I finally muster up the courage to go in and say something. “Can we go get an adapter?” “Mine is bad”…

It was beautiful and wrong and just fine. We spent a few minutes figuring out what should happen to fix this dilemma/just communicating what the problem was. We decided to run to the store around the corner to try and find one that would fit my silly Mac cable. They, alas, didn’t have one. We came back to the house, and after a little searching, found one that worked! It was some of the best news ever. I charged my laptop, looked at some pictures I had saved to my desktop, and started to write what I would eventually put in my blog when I had Internet access. (I just put in some eye drops, and my eyes are now more bloodshot and all stingy)

At this point I was feeling pretty lame. I couldn’t talk to my family and I was tired and not hungry but was being fed on a more than regular basis by these sweet women but couldn’t tell them “I’m full”, “no stop”, “seriously thank you, but no thank you”. In the middle of my mind rant, Tamara came in and started talking to me. I had no idea where we were going with this. She looks at my face so intently when she speaks. She knows I can’t understand but believes that as long as she keeps talking to me, I’ll eventually understand what she’s saying to me. I stare back, trying to believe the same thing, and hoping for the best at the end of the sentence. Sometimes we get lucky. Sometimes the hand gestures just don’t do it. Irina came in and kind of laughed at her mom’s attempt to communicate with me. She went from standing and smiling to kneeling next to my bed and playing the communication game with us. Irina is so good at the game. She knows the hand gestures that make sense, the best way to get the point across with the least amount of words possible. They are both such friendly ladies.

At the end of our 15-minute “chat”, we had communicated that I was going to meet Sergei, my program director in Petersburg, at 1 by metro, but was leaving at 12. I would have breakfast in the morning, eat lunch while I was out, and then have dinner when I came back home. Irina would be out, but was going to get back around 6. I gave us a round of applause and the group was all smiles. Tamara was spent so she went to go read, and I, naturally, was given food. Irina and I were used to this now. We went and talked about Monday’s schedule and called it a night. I think this was the first time I really smiled since I’d arrived. I even closed the door and did a little dance in my room.  

5/14 - 5/15. Lemme get maself oriented here.

Leaving for a big trip is uncomfortable no matter how much you’re looking forward to it. You know you’re about to go and change your life, but there is still saying goodbye to the people you love and entering into a brand new world, which is bound to shake up some nerves. Sure I’m going to St. Petersburg aka a city, but cities are different wherever you go. Philadelphia is comfortable for me. I know where my favorite center city stores are, along with the best consignment spots, good coffee, subway and train locations, where my friends live and where to walk to get there, etc. It’s so surreal going some place where you know no one and have zero familiarity with anything’s location. I know nothing about where we are driving. I’m kind of like a baby; I stare at everything, and can’t register the meaning of what anyone is saying, only the tone they deliver words in. I’m trying to make it less overwhelming by encouraging myself to laugh.

The first flight to Helsinki, Finland was quite long. I watched a movie for the first hour and a half of my 8 hours, and then listened to music. I listened to the same two mixes and read one letter over and over again for the next 6 hours. Music and handwritten letters from the people you love are the most beautiful things in the world. That and …well…maybe the mental and physical development of a baby into an adult.

A driver, sent by my program, greeted me in St. Petersburg. He couldn’t speak English, so the 15-minute trip to my apartment was pretty quiet. I went into baby mode and stared at everything. Fountains decorating the façades of buildings and the center of roundabouts, apartment buildings, churches, people… I kept looking at his shoes though. They looked clean, new, fashionable, and they regularly squeaked as he pushed the clutch in to change gears.  Patti had told me about their shoes. They’ve all got sweet shoes. They can pick out the American tourists not by what their faces look like but by the shoes they wear; Americans tend to keep theirs dirtier and aren’t as concerned with the part shoes play in creating an entirely put together outfit. This information might have something to do with the purchase of new/used pairs pre-departure. I met Patti about half way through my winter term this year and am so grateful to have become friends. She lived and worked in Russia for 8 years, completed her masters at College of the Atlantic, and is brilliant. We met a few times before I left for Russia and the knowledge she’s passed down to me has helped with my adjustment.

Gosh I haven’t even started to talk about how I’m adjusting. It’s hard, to say the least. My host family is extremely lovely and kind, but they speak no English. Tamara is my temporary babushka and I can’t get enough of the little old lass. She showed me my room, which is beautiful. I have a desk, which she put a glass of little purple and white flowers on, an incredible vanity, and armoire, my couch/bed thinger, and two big beautiful windows. The ceiling is so high which makes the room feel much bigger. My room, along with the rest of the apartment is incredibly homey. Tamara and Irina have their own rooms. Ah and Irina is my host mother. I met her later on Friday, but only briefly. I passed out for a long time shortly after writing a letter in my bed. There is a little kitchen, so perfect and tidy, a small room for the toilet, and another for the tub, sink, and washing machine. There is a little hall when you enter, but other than that, there isn’t anything else. No room for things you don’t use or need…not an inch of the apartment is waster. It is a perfect space for the people who call this home.

Regardless of being cozy and feeling safe…I was homesick the first day. I arrived at my home, dropped my bags off, was fed by Tamara, and then picked up by Sergei, my program coordinator. Sergei is a sweetheart. He walked us to the Metro, making sure I remembered exactly where we were going so I could get back without him (I’ll be taking the metro to and from school everyday). We switched lines once, and arrived where St. Petersburg State University is. We walked a bit, checking to see if we could find English written news papers, and coffee shops that offer free internet if you buy something. No luck, but I’ll search more when I’m back there on Monday. As we walked through my school, I started to become really overwhelmed. There is so much I need to do regarding registration, remembering how to get everywhere that was only shown to me once, communicating with my family who speaks no English, and just missing everyone I love back in the states. We took our time getting back to the metro to look for more Internet places but were met with no luck.  We rushed back into the station, and on the platform, Sergei explained how I would take the metro to meet him Sunday for a walking tour. Then he left, leaving me to get home by myself. 

The metro is so…crazy-delicious. On the one hand there is no personal space and everyone is smashing him or herself into whatever door they’re standing in front of, and you feel like if you don’t move your ass, you’ll be run over, which is probably true. It’s also the most breath-taking form of public transportation I’ve ever been on. After paying, you stand on the left side (or rush down on the right side) of one of three escalators-two go down one goes up.  You stand, waiting to reach the bottom, for at least 5 minutes, making it the longest escalator ride most people ever experience. It’s lit every 7 feet or so with 3 foot tall lights. I can’t believe how tall the ceilings are, and how each station has a unique pattern of tiles and sculptures. When I don’t know where I’m going, it’s hard to panic when everything is so beautiful.

I got home (I know I had you worrying) and without a hitch too. I went to my bed, wrote a letter that Jason won’t get until I get home to send it (It takes 2ish months for post to go back and forth, like OMG), and fell asleep for 4 hours. Homesickness hit hard after I woke up. I wrote haikus, ate half a banana, and crawled right back into bed. I couldn’t turn on my laptop because the adapter I was given didn’t work, so I wrote more. I listened to music that night until my melatonin tablet lulled me back to sleep.