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.
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