Okay, for a change a lot has happened recently and
it’s taken a substantial amount of mental strength to sit down and write this
post because it’s been a while. Don’t
fear though, I’ll do my very best to cut out all the waffle and include only
the shiniest golden nuggets of year abroad anecdotes for people’s entertainment
(mainly for my own). You may pity me at
some points too.
So where did we leave things last time? Ah yes, I
was about to embark on my St. Petersburg voyage with my hostess Natasha. Oh how far I have travelled since then...both
literally and figuratively. So with my rucksack and handbag packed and Natasha’s single plastic carrier bag packed (she wore the same clothes for the whole trip including for both sleeper train journeys) we
set off for the station at 10:30pm to catch the overnight train to
St.Petersburg (13 hours). Natasha
packed me a yoghurt which, little did I know, would become the theme of the
trip. Basically, I have a huge issue
with warm yoghurt. Picky as you may think,
I am strongly against warm yoghurt and I have been since school lunchbox days. It’s a complex that I may never grow out of,
but the thought of Frubes in lunchboxes make me shiver. I probably should have dealt with the
travelling yoghurt and eaten it the first time it was offered to me on the train,
but to my disappointment I had to eat it three days later, as it was clear that
Natasha was determined to see that yoghurt eaten by me and me alone.
So to cut a long journey short, we both had bottom
bunks which I think the rest of the carriage was pleased about because it meant
that I was sadly unable to demonstrate my bunk climbing agility again and everyone
kept their faces intact. There was a
40-something year old man sitting with us who was grinning like a maniac
constantly and was sitting next to me eating a bag of dried fish and drinking
beer. There I was, listening to my Ipod,
gazing out of the window and suddenly the man tapped me on the shoulder. He asked to see what I was listening to and
put my earphones to his ears. He claimed
that Bon Iver was exactly like what he was listening to and excitedly gave his
headphones to me. It wasn’t. After numerous awkward moments we all decided
to go to sleep. Well, Natasha certainly
did. From such a little creature, I
couldn’t believe the almighty sounds that erupted from her. This was professional snoring and I was awake
for a long, long time. When I woke up in
the morning, I was unimpressed to find grinning guy, still grinning in my face
and Natasha looking bright eyed in front of me, offering me the yoghurt. I was overjoyed to realise that my eye was
swollen as well and I was beginning to come out in a dodgy rash.
So when we arrived, we got the metro to Valera’s
house (he’s Natasha’s partner who lives in St. Petersburg). He has recently moved his elderly mother in
with him, who turned out to be the undisputable highlight of my trip. She had many unforgettable moments like when
she exclaimed that she thought the banana on a fruit salad was egg, and when she
started pouring water from the teapot on the table, next to her teacup. She really was lovely though and it ended up
that I had all my most meaningful conversations of the trip with her. When I left she kissed me all over my face. I met one of Valera’s cats which I thought
was a kitten, but it turned out it was a really small cat with stunted growth
(and scabs and a bent tail). Got reunited with Natasha’s son Misha who lived
with us last term, which was great as well.
Then Valera came along. He really
is a strange character: a very stern man who is also quite friendly but it’s
hard to know where you stand with him.
Really our week consisted of various exchanges between me and Valera,
where he appeared to think that because I don’t speak his language properly, I
must be very stupid.
-Do you like raisins?
-No.
-why?
-Because I don’t.
-But do you know that raisins are actually dried
grapes?
-erm, yes.
-Well, why don’t you like them then? They are the
same thing.
-Do you know who Anne Frank is?
-Do you have beetroot in England?
And so on. In the day Natasha took me out sightseeing
which was nice, but sadly again very awkward because she made me go on guided
tours of things (guided tours are on a par with warm yoghurt for me I’m afraid)
and decided that I wouldn’t be able to understand any of it so just translated
into broken English over the top so I ended up understanding nothing. Really, that is the essence of the entire trip,
so I won’t go on anymore but it actually turned out to be the most difficult few
days of my year abroad so far, purely because it involved so much Russian, so
much tongue biting and so much alone time with Natasha. We did see two ballets though: ‘Romeo and
Juliet’ and ‘Jewels’. Both were good,
but hearing Prokofiev’s ‘Dance of the Knights’ just made me feel like I was in
the Board Room with Sir Alan, because I’m that cultured.
So I had a couple of days at home, during which I
found out that I won tickets for the Diamond Jubilee celebration in London from
the ballot I entered, which was a terribly British reward for having survived
the few days before feeling feeble and confused in Russian culture and I had
Jack coming out to visit me on Friday 4th May, which I was very
happy about after that ordeal. Things
were looking up.
The day before Jack arrived, Natasha took me to her
friend’s house as they invited us to have ‘Shashlik’ which is authentic Russian
Barbequed meat. It was delicious, but we
were made to sit outside for hours and it was freezing cold which meant that I
caught a cold for when Jack was getting here, which I was annoyed about. In
general though, we had a lovely evening and I got to speak lots of
Russian. Ridiculous questions were
thrown about, the biscuit taker being “Are there strawberries in England?” Make
of that what you will.
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| 3 Penguins Hostel |
So here is a brief rundown of what happened when
Jack came to stay. I sat at arrivals for
about five hours as my train got into Moscow really early. It was, of course, fantastic to see Jack come
through the gate and to let Jack’s first experience of Russia begin. In Moscow we stayed in the ‘3 Penguins Hostel’,
which was really nice and very Russian.
Not sure who thought up the penguins theme, but it was quite cool as the
hostel was adorned with various penguin related items, mainly Christmas
stickers and magnets because I guess that’s where penguins get most of their
work, and there was a cheeky penguin pillow on the sofa too. We had a brilliant few days in Moscow, but
due to the build up before Victory Day, Red Square was completely closed so we
had to explore that at the other end of our trip. We went to a cemetery where loads of famous
bods are buried, notably Yeltsin, Kruschev, Chekhov, Shostakovich and many
others. We saw the impressive Bolshoi
Theatre, Chekhov’s house and lots of interesting bits and pieces. Cultural treats aside, food really did play a
big part in this trip for me. We
indulged in some yummy meals and quality fast food. We jumped on the bandwagon of love for ‘Kroshka
Kartoshka’, the fast food chain which serves baked potatoes and we also became
fans of ‘Carl’s Jr’, the burger chain because when you’ve lived in Yaroslavl
for eight months, burgers are gold in a bun.
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| Jack outside the Bolshoi |
We took the day train to St Petersburg which to my
surprise was a million times nicer than smelly First Great Western and arrived
into the cultural capital. St Petersburg
was lovely as ever, if a little jam packed with people because of Victory Day
again. We went to the Hermitage which is
incredible, as well as a museum containing a room of pickled babies in
jars. We indulged in the fantastic array
of shops that the city offers and generally had a lovely time wandering around
and soaking up the atmosphere.
We got the overnight train back to Moscow which was
fun, because we sitting with an almost elderly Russian woman with red hair who
decided to speak to us in German and strip for Jack and a
man who ate Pringles and drank beer whilst getting into deep conversation with
the woman who personified my degree. The
train was painfully hot and stuffy and it was hard to sleep, but we had the
pleasure of meeting a Russian boy called Vlad along the way.
So we got back to Moscow and saw the delights of Red
Square as well has the Kremlin which was great.
Moscow is a beautiful city in the springtime, with tulips planted
throughout the centre and gold domes sparkling everywhere you look. The weather got warmer and warmer and by the
final day of the trip I managed to get sunburnt. You don’t have to go to Columbia on your year
abroad to catch the rays.
So at the end of the week, Jack flew home to
peaceful England and I journeyed back to sunny Yaroslavl, which, I hasten to
add is blooming at the moment. Lush
grass on the ground and juicy green leaves rustling against my window gives me a right to claim that summer is here (clutching onto little pieces of
hope now) and I now have license to eat ice-cream outside and pack my boots in
my suitcase.
I was very sad to see Jack leave, but I’ve got the
encouraging prospect that I’m coming home in exactly two weeks time. The year abroad will be history. The sense of achievement that lies ahead is
huge, but I am really sad at the thought of Yaroslavl not being a part of my
life anymore. Life with Natasha, the
daily walk to school, the cashiers in the shop and the thriving dog community
have all become things that I know and love.
As lovely as it will be to settle back into home living, I will definitely
have a huge space where all those things used to fit in. This will probably be my last proper blog of
my time in Russia, but I’ll do a proper ‘over and out’ one at the very
end. I’m sure you’re sitting on the edge
of your seats.
Until then!
