Tuesday, September 1, 2009

Day 1-2


So, here I am, in the Black Earth country of Russia, the city of Voronezh. It’s been over a year since I was last here, but it seems as if nothing has changed. Sure, there are a few new faces, several new construction projects, but the same lovely family and the same wonderful city. This “blog” is mostly just a way to keep friends in family in the loop, so I can minimize my time on the free internet in the ever crowded McDonalds, chomping down on the delicious Royal Cheeseburgers. Ironically, I made it two weeks last summer without stepping foot in this McDonalds on Prospekt Revolutsii, but I’ve now made it two days and I’ve already partaken of it’s pleasures an equal number of times. It happens. Nothing like the prospect of no American food for three + months to make one really value that meat, cheese, and bread confection (that’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it!).

That being said, it is surprisingly good to be back. The flight in, the trip through Moscow to Voronezh, the crowded streets, the crowded train, the utter lack of anything but bread, cheese, and kolbasa at the mini-marts near Pavlovskii Train Station, combined to make me rather apprehensive about my second trip to this country of contradictions and ironies. But I made it eventually, and seeing the beautiful women strolling through the city center, the terribly dressed men sipping beer in the park, and watching the wonderful kids all decked out in their black and white, complete with ridiculously poufy hair accessories and flowers, ready for their first day of school (yes, they get WAY more excited about beginning school on September 1st than we could ever imagine) really got me back in the swing of things. Russia is a mindset and the sooner one accepts that, the easier it is to assimilate.

So, I’m here, and it isn’t so bad. Talk to me in a few weeks, see how I feel, but right now, I’m simply xharasho, ochen xharasho.

Voronezh Moment of the Day:

So, there I was in Petrovskii park, minding my own business, reading a little Maxim Gorky, when this cute little girl, about 6-7 years old comes right up to me. I’m always down to practice my Russian, so I was happy to chat with this little girl. She was really curious about my notebook, sunglasses, and cell phone, and in my naïveté, I thought she was just being really sweet and patient with my terrible Russian like most kids in Voronezh are. At some point, after about 30 minutes, she started getting pushy and I began to get annoyed. It became clear that she didn’t have parents anywhere near and soon enough her sister with the bottle of cash came up. Oh no… Gypsies. Somehow, I’d managed to make it three weeks previously in Russia with zero contact with these menaces. Well, now was a good time to learn. Twenty minutes later, I’d paid these two demons thirty rubles (only about 95 cents, but it’s the principle of the matter, ok?) for my phone back once, and my sunglasses back twice (don’t ask). What’s more is that before I got my phone back the little one had called our Russian contact, Anatoly Ivanovich Leonov and chatted for about 6 minutes, explaining that she was the police and her American friend was in jail. I had fun explaining that one over the phone… Anyhow, I’m alive and that’s all that matters. It’s only money and pride (bear in mind that there were about 150 Russians watching this whole scene with great mirth, of course they hate gypsies with great passion as a people). Priceless.

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