Tallin!!

Estonia was wonderful. In fact, it convinced me that learning Russian was actually a very good idea, because now I can travel around the Baltic states and have a decent chance of making myself understood. And after visiting Estonia, I’d like to do so. Since we only spend about 8 hours in Estonia, this speaks (positive) volumes about the country. Or at least, Tallin.

Estonia is a tiny country, but Estonians are very proud of having their own state. As well they should be, given that at various past times they were ruled by, among others, the Teutonic Knights, the Swedes, and the Russians. Their only other period of dependence since the middle ages, besides the current one, was a brief spurt in the early 20th century before their absortion into the USSR. Tallin, as both their main and capital city, shows traces of every period of Estonia’s history, and thus was absolutely fascinating. Although in our case, besides our time walking to and from the ferry, we spent the day in the Tallin ‘old town’, which can itself be divided into two parts, the ‘upper’ town and –you guessed it – the ‘lower’ town. The ‘upper’ town is older, and contains among other things on one of its highest points the medieval castle (the first permanent structure in Tallin?) that has undergone changes with each successive administration that has controlled the city; its current reincarnation has a candy pink, St. Petersburg-style stucco façade built by, of course, the Russian tsarist government. I think it is currently used as the parliament. It stands across from the very traditional Russian Orthodox Church that the Russian Administration built during Tsar Nicholas’ ‘Russification’ campaign, a glaringly obvious symbol of Russian power.
The upper town also contains one of the most beautiful and moving churches I have ever visited, a huge Lutheran cathedral. Perhaps due to a strong German influence from its trade relations, Estonia is a primarily Lutheran country and the cathedral is decorated with shields commemorating local important barons, counts, etc. These wooden shields are decorated with coats of arms and were apparently carried in front of funeral processions, then hung in the church, and they offset beautifully the primarily white interior. More impressively, there was a woman singing in the church,and filling it full with her voice. When we initially entered the church I didn’t realize that the music was live, but looking into the musical balcony at the back there a woman was, practicing one assumed. Her singing was beautiful, and gave a very holy feeling to the cathedral. Overall, the impression created was of a pure vastness made more intimate by the presence of dark wood, ornate metal work (especially in the chandeliers), and filled with a glorious voice. Lovely.
Other sights in Tallin include the Maidens’ tower, where young girls who refused to marry the men their families chose for them were imprisoned until they relented. I imagine young, fiery women, and old, fat barons that were their intended husbands. Later, (or simultaneously?) this tower was apparently used to imprison prostitutes, given an ironic meaning to the name ‘Maidens’ Tower. In the lower town there is a well called ‘drowned cats well’ which the townsfolk would toss unfortunate stray cats into to appease the demon that they believed lived in it. Imagine the water quality and shudder. I should mention, the tap water in Estonia is drinkable, so probably does not currently contain dead cats. Right across from this well of doubtful quality is a house that the devil allegedly celebrated his wedding party in; the room where this happened was sealed, and remains so to this day. From the look of the old town, you would think that Estonia is back in the middle ages. They even have active guilds in the city, some no doubt tracing their history back through the centuries, since Tallin has long been a commercial center (although apparently Germans were at the fore, not Estonians themselves). Apparently, however, IT is actually a big deal in Estonia, with more and more young people entering the field. In fact, Skype, the internet calling phenomenon – if you will – originated in Estonia, and apparently many Estonians still staff its ranks. And really, outside of the old city Tallin looks quite modern, albeit in a fairly unsurprising and concrete-laden Soviet way.
Also more recently, President Bush stayed at the Radisson in Tallin during his visit to – I believe – a summit in Latvia. And by stayed at, I mean rented the entire place. Our guide, a very cheerful and amusing Australian who lives in Tallin due to his Estonian girlfriend, pointed out that when the Queen of England visited Tallin she stayed in a local historical bed and breakfast called the Three Sisters. He said that he tells Americans that this shows the power difference between the two countries, and tells people from other countries that this shows how important the two countries see themselves. He then admitted that perhaps the comparison is not quite fair, given the Queen has mainly ceremonial rather than religious power. I still thought it was funny.

I could say more about the rest of the city, but there’s only so much I can describe without it all beginning to sound the same. Overall, it contains extraordinarily old architecture and was a joy to walk around in. The streets, like in most medieval towns, are narrow, cobbled and windy, making it even more fun to explore. There is also both a marzipan shop and a marzipan museum. There are plenty of cafes and small shops with local crafts, and it was in one of these that I had my first experience with tourist versus local prices. We happened to walk into a wool and yarn shop owned by a Russian lady, who we had heard talking in Russian and to whom, when she was struggling to name prices in English, Ashley asked her to speak in Russian. She brightened, and after her other customers left came over and enthusiastically encouraged Ashley to try on multiple hats while she was shopping. Having apparently decided that a scarf with long ends functioning as a scarf was the best choice, she lowered the price from 350 kroons to only 200, apparently its actual price in wool and work hours, a.k.a. the non-tourist price. And it is a fantastic scarf-hat. As I said, Estonia proved the usefulness of Russian! It also had delicious pastries, just like Finland. All buttery goodness and flaky crust, which is not usually standard to Russia; not that they’re not good, but they are a different style.

There really are many Russians in Estonia, but at the moment its impossible to get to Estonia directly from Russia, thanks to Putin. Apparently, the Estonian government dismantled and relocated a monument to the Red Army from Tallin to some obscure park. Since this was kind of a slap in the face to the Russian influence in Estonia, Russians in the capital rioted, and Putin cut the railway lines into Estonia. I sort of imagine this as similar to a ribbon-cutting ceremony, except that Putin stands with a stony look on his face, holding in his hands massive wire cutters and then taking them to the tracks. Or maybe he just chopped through them with his bare hands, given his judo expertise. You never know.

I think that’s were I’m going to stop with Estonia. Overall, I liked to better than Finland, although that may have something to do with the lack of stucco and presence of cobbles. One can only stand so much stucco. But also, it seems more real than Finland, which is a little overly clean and well-run. Basically, slightly boring. Then again, that might only be Helsinki. No matter what, I will be returning to the Baltic States, and explore the ex-USSR. And it will be fantastic.

On the ferry back to Helsinki many people were loaded up with boxes of duty-free goods, beer, cigarettes, and gin ‘long drinks’ being particularly popular. Ah, to be able to travel so easily between countries! Or rather, to have other countries so close!

Back in Saint Petersburg, lately we have been receiving actual winter weather; loads of snow and glorious landscapes of white. Unfortunately, I have discovered the inevitable and terrible side of effect of the glorious whiteness; slush. In its many forms, including sludge, icy water and dirt. Downtown, where they clean the entire streets and sidewalks with ice, the gutters overflow and there are slushy rivers that form between the sidewalk and the street, making it a mission to cross the road without boots filling with water. I also managed to step into a massive hole in the road concealed by water, splashing above my boots and leaving unpleasantly wet pants in their wake. And I was worried that my snow boots wouldn’t come in handy!

The slush and sludge is a small price to pay, however, for the glories of winter. The crunch of snow under my feet is joyful, the silky top of the snow a lovely blanket. There is just so much to enjoy, and its still so new, that I’m surprised every time I step outside. Oh winter!

Finland!

Really, this should be titled ‘Helsinki’, since it’s the only part of Finland that we had the pleasure of visiting. Then again, apparently about a third of the population of Finland lives there, so it’s a pretty big deal to the country.

Finland was lovely! Helsinki is a port city, and it was wonderful to be by the sea again. Saint Petersburg might technically be on the Black Sea, but its really on the Neva River and is actually isolated from the Sea by sea walls so there is really no direct contact. In terms of architecture, much of Helsinki was built after the Russians took control of Finland back in the 1700s, so not surprisingly a lot of the oldest parts of the city are very reminiscent of Saint Petersburg, since they were built pretty much simultaneously. I have to say, I’m getting a little jaded about stucco. Its beautiful, the colors they paint it are wonderful, but there’s only so much a girl can stand. Other than that, Finland reminded me of London in the sense that their integration of old and new buildings is admirably successful, beautiful in its own right in fact. I hope I have some pictures that at least partly capture the feeling. Helsinki also struck me as a very arty city, or that might have had something to do with the places that I visited. Lots of cafes, too, which is always enjoyable and warm, a very important attribute in such a cold climate. Efficient public transportation and bike paths also featured as favorable attributes, although Helsinki is also an easily walkable city both in its small size and wide, comfortable sidewalks. People were friendly, and pretty much everyone speaks English, as well as probably four other languages. A Finnish girl, upon hearing that my friend Ashley was studying Russian, remarked that Saint Petersburg was a beautiful city and then asked about other language was she studying back in the States? To which Ashley was forced to admit that Russian was her only foreign language. A sad state of affairs, to be sure.

Now for some more specific features of our time in Finland. We met at the Metro station on Thursday at the obscenely early time of 6am. Astoundingly, Tanya got up to have breakfast with Anna and I and see us off; which I thought went way beyond any sort of requirement of her as a host mother. She told me that if she got up early she could get more done in the day, but I think she only said that to allay my fears and probably worried look. Our train was at 730, and we arrived in Finland around 1pm. We were picked up and taken on a city tour by bus, seeing such sights as the ‘cathedral in the rock’, a Lutheran cathedral literally partly chiseled out of the hillside and with an astounding roof made of copper wire. It was one of the only modern churches that I’ve loved; the rock and the copper made the interior glow and feel warm and welcoming. After the tour we checked into the hostel and had free time for the rest of the day. Unfortunately, since it gets dark around 430 that far north, it meant that we only had about an hour of sunlight left, so spent it wandering. Then it was time for groceries and dinner. Ashley and I decided to go to the free concert in the cathedral in the Rock at 7, which was a number of soloists from a music school in Helsinki on the oboe, accompanied by piano. They were very talented, and it was a very enjoyable experience. Afterwards we walked some more, found a kiosk with Dr Pepper for Ashley (Dr. Pepper was a very big deal in Finland; the soda isn’t available in Russia, but Finland not only has it, they produce it. Everyone who grew up in the south was immensely excited, especially Ashley, who brought two cases back with her and has pictures everywhere with her and the beloved drink. I can only dream of such devotion), and somehow got swept up into going to a Karaoke bar with others from our group and some Finns who they had met at IMOP. Strangely enough, it was very like an American karaoke bar.

Saturday was our full day in Helsinki, and we made the most of it. First Ashley and I went to free sauna at the hostel, then took advantage of the free breakfast for about an hour. One interesting thing to note about Finland; apparently there are about 3 million saunas for 5 million people. As the guide put it, “so we have plenty of room for visitors”. They also traditionally wash their rugs in the sea, or any available natural body of water. ‘But that’s neither here nor there’ as Gogol would say. We then left the hostel and, after visiting a local market, trekked over to the ‘Cable Factory’, an ex-cable factory (strangely enough) that now serves as a museum/gallery/art studio/school for art, theater, crafts and whatnot, and generally anything arty that should be in a building. The entire complex houses too many artists and arty things to count, and its extremely cool. The best exhibit we found was one on an anti-fur campaign, although we only touched on a small portion of its offerings. It also has a 1 ½ floor. After lunch in its café, we headed for the student/poorer part of town, which was much to my liking, being much like any student area. After more wandering it was time to find the café I had looked up on the internet and which had promised an interesting and exceptional interior, which it delivered, sort of an ultra-bright Scandinavian crossed with Russian theme. It had a lovely homey atmosphere, and I got the sense that everyone else in there was a regular; I think one table just served themselves from the kitchen, even. There was no cash register, and the owners where playing scrabble on one of the tables, walking back to the open kitchen when needed. We stayed for quite a long time, feeling completely comfortable sitting around drawing and talking. Really, a perfect café. Then we visited the modern art museum in Helsinki, which is housed in a building that perfectly reflects its contents. It was a joy to wander around in, and while I am not generally a fan of modern art, the collection has some exceptional pieces, including one of licorice candy that is available for digestion (we were literally consuming art), and beautifully worked paper from Japan.

After the museum closed it was time to go back and sleep, since we were getting up at 5am to get to the ferry to Tallin. It had been a very successful day.

Sunday we also spent in Helsinki. I got up early to sauna, which I had all to myself to blissfully enjoy, and then after breakfast walked with my friend Jacob around the headland, looking out over the port and its islands an finally out over the sea. He showed my what is meant to be the most famous park in Helsinki, which contains a hill that, being right off the water, offers a view of both the city and the ocean. It was stunning, especially since the weather that day was gorgeous. Unfortunately, my camera decided to stop working temporarily at that point, but it really was glorious. We continued walking through the rich part of town (sea views are always expensive) back downtown to take the tram and go to a weekend second-hand market. The market was very satisfying and I have the feeling that the lively Finnish around me was all bargaining. We had to be back at the hostel by two, so the rest of the time was spent walking across town, something accomplished in a surprisingly short time; Helsinki proper is really rather small, but it doesn’t seem like it. Then off, back to Saint-Petersburg! Leaving from one of the most beautiful train stations that I have ever seen.

Helsinki actually reminded me very much of Wellington, or rather what Wellington would be like if it was magically transferred from New Zealand to the Far North. Lots of cafes, arty, a capital city, quite highly educated, port city…. And it just felt familiar.

On another note, I have to say that it was nice to see such a variety of ethnic groups, just going about daily business and acting like they belong. In Russia, people who aren’t obviously white don’t always look as comfortable.

Overall, Helsinki was lovely, but perhaps too nice and clean for my tastes. After Russia, it seemed almost sterile. Before I left, Tanya and I had a conversation in which I tried to explain that Russia being hard makes it interesting, and she said she really didn’t understand. Its true, though.

Back in Russia, yesterday I went to the Russian Museum with Jane and viewed some very, very good art. Russian art isn’t particularly famous, it seems, but not for any reason that I could see. If anyone’s interested, I would recommend taking a look at Serov and Koronikiev (spelling? I will check these). Or just Russian art generally.

Today I had a small adventure taking the tram. Yesterday I bought a transportation map of St. Petersburg from a woman in the metro, which are not for sale in any normal places as far as I can tell, or at least no-one I know has been able to find one. Anyway, I decided to test it out todayA few things I noted today about Russia. First, I am constantly surprised by the extremely young children taking public transportation by themselves. Today I saw a young boy who couldn’t have been more than six with a backpack approximately his size on his back traveling on the Metro. Its amazing. Also, the cold weather really does make all the public transportation essential, I’ve realized, although it ironically creates a situation in which while waiting for said transportation you get extremely cold, colder than if you just walked. But probably not as cold as you would get if you walked for a long period in negative temperatures. Finally, now that the frost has set in its possible and amusing to see what people have been doing with water, imprinted in the frost. For example, where buckets of water have been thrown from restaurants, or where bikes have left a trail. Ice generally is just fantastic.

Before Finland/Estonia

Our week of theater ended quite bizarrely and rather amusingly.

First, we went to see Raskolnikov (the stage adaptation of Crime and Punishment) at what was advertised at the ‘Starnik’ Theater. What I failed to realize was that the production was put on by an amateur Russian Orthodox acting troupe - despite this being advertised on the ticket - and that the ‘theater’ turned out to be located in a sketchy part of town, on the fourth floor of a church. Despite our disbelief (could a theater really be in the midst of ominous warehouses and miscellaneous buildings, away from main buildings and, well, people?) and misleading building numbers, we eventually found our way thanks primarily to some helpful guards. After finding our seats we waited the standard Russian 10 minutes for the show to start (I don’t think a single show has started on time here, including at the Mariinskii), and then the producer of the troupe got on stage. He explained the troupe’s mission – the only Orthodox troupe in St. Petersburg, although apparently there is one or two in Moscow – and why they had chosen Raskolnikov. Anyone who has read Crime and Punishment might guess that Dostoevsky was a very religious or at least very moral man, and he said almost exactly that; not only is C & P a classic, but in the end the story has a strong lesson. Then, before the show began, he led us all in an Orthodox prayer. Both the theater in the church – a very nice and well set-up theater for an amateur company – and the prayer were new to me, but it was certainly an experience. The play itself was actually very interesting. I had been wondering exactly how they were going to edit such a work to make it play-size, but for those who have read it, the play consisted almost solely of scenes between Raskolnikov and Sophie, and centered of course on Raskolnikov. The acting was good, very good in some cases, and the atmosphere was perfect. Perhaps it had something to do with being in a church, but there was an almost sacred feeling to the scenes, or at least an intimate one. Or rather look at it this way; the church knows how to make scenes feel sacred, and this knowledge was used to stage the exceptional play. All in all, the trip to the church, the church itself, the hymn and the play itself was quite the Friday night experience.

Then came Saturday. In the morning we had an excursion to the Yusopov Palace, the site of the plot against Rasputin, and of his poisoning and shooting. More generally, it is a sumptuous palace in the heart of the city that had been bought and re-decorated by the Yusopovs, one of the richest noble families, in I believe the late 18^th century. And those Yusopovs knew how to live! Many of the rooms are themed, and include a beautiful study filled with books and old, dark wood, the ‘Islamic’ (or maybe ‘Spanish’) room that opened onto a garden, the ‘Turkish’ room for billiards, a massive, lengthy hall for their personal art collection and a theater. A beautiful, beautiful theater that is still in use today, complete with a ‘princes’ box’ in place of the traditional ‘tsar’s box’, for obvious reasons. Of course, the palace also includes a banquet hall, a massive ballroom and three salons lining the Western side of the palace, looking out on the canal for the use of guests. There are also many interesting quirks to the building (which is still under reconstruction- I can’t imagine how there can be more to see, but apparently there is). For example, at the end of the hall that runs down the western side of the building there is a ‘rotund’ room that is built somewhat round and with a large round sofa in the middle, for guests to conveniently use as a sign to turn around either back down the hall towards the ball and dining rooms or go through the alternative set of doors. Because this room is at the end of the building, there are only two exits, both in the north. However, there are fake doors in the South, apparently to make the room symmetrical, but also as the guide put it ‘because you always want to make it look like your palace is bigger’. Of course, a ballroom and dining hall aren’t enough to prove that.

The area were Rasputin was killed is on the North side of the palace, which had been remodeled to house the Yusopov heir, Felix, and his new wife. That side includes a small room that is mirrored on all sides in the shape of doors, four of which are real and four of which are fake. One leads to where the other plotters sat on the night of Rasputins murder, making noise so that Feliz could pretend that his wife was upstairs; they were nervous, however, and apparently forgot to change the record and thus listened to ‘Yankee Doodle’ for that whole fateful night.

Overall, it is a completely stunning palace, my favorite of all the palaces that we’ve visited, perhaps because you can feel that people really lived there. Yes, they lived in indescribable luxury, but nonetheless the palace is a ‘home’, not just a palace.

Saturday night was another theatrical experience, but this time the Nutcracker on Ice, at the Sports Palace arena. What we failed to realize this time was that it was put on by what must have been a children’s ice skating club. Not that this was really a problem, but it certainly was somewhat odd. The storyline was mostly the same, but then after a while it somehow turned into interpretive ice-skating to Russian techno and folk music, without any explanation or any end to the actual Nutcracker tale. It was enjoyable nonetheless, and the hordes of children around us added to the joy, but it was not at all what had been expected. Cotton candy, caramel corn and flashy toys were to be had though, so what could really spoil our fun?

We ended the night at Dacha, a bar downtown that plays great music and apparently is popular with ex-pats; we met three British, two French, a Canadian and a Russian-American. The last explained that the bar was founded by a Swedish couple, which might explain its appeal.

So ended Theater Week. The cold snap ended with it, leaving us with again warmer than normal temperatures and me with a revised fear of global warming. Still, Finland and Estonia on the weekend! Great things are to be had, I’m sure.

In more recent news, we returned from the Finland and Estonia trip yesterday and it really was quite stunningly fantastic. As soon as I manage to find the words, I’m sure that I’ll be writing about it.

More importantly, today was the first snow!! Just when I thought the world couldn’t get more amazing, it did. Of course, it was wet snow and in most places it melted as soon as it touched the ground, but that doesn’t change the fact that it swirled deliciously through the air and made everything more magical. Tanya told me that according to Russian tradition two weeks after the first snow the snow will become permanent for the rest of the winter. Which would give me two completely snow-filled weeks before we leave!

Actually, its very strange to think that in less than four weeks we’ll be leaving Russia. Is this possible? Its impossible to say how I feel about it, because there are so many conflicting emotions.

Expectant Travels!

Tomorrow we leave for Finland and Estonia! Taking a four-day weekend, we're spending a day and a half in Finland and a day trip to Estonia (visiting Tallin). Its all very exciting.

In weather news, the cold snap broke, leaving us with warmer (and thus stranger, for the time of year) temperatures. I'm not going to lie, its worrying. Seems that global warming exists after all. Still, for the time that it was cold and that there was ice on the ground the world was a magical, freezing place, and with any luck by the time we return from abroad the cold times will have returned. Here's hoping!

I can't believe that its already November. In less than

That's all for now. Much more when we get back!

The Theater!

(I apologize in advance for the melodramatic tone of this entry- the theater does it to me, I swear!)

If there is one glorious thing about Saint Petersburg that stands out from all the rest, it is the beauty and accessibility of the theater. Granted, one might be more in a position to take advantage of this resource if one understood more Russian than I, but I like to think that I am simply proving to myself that superb theater transcends language. Not that I am claiming that all theater is superb. But I will continue, less digression.

This week is my theater week. I don’t mean theater in the most confined sense of the word, but instead as anything that takes place in any sort of theater-like place, including operas, the philharmonic, etc. Although we went to the philharmonic two Sundays ago, but I will discuss it anyway. So far this week there has been the opera Eugene Onegin at the Mikhailovski* Theater on Tuesday, and the operatic version of The Brothers Karamozov at the Marhinskii Theater this evening, or Wednesday. Tomorrow there is nothing, but on Friday Raskolnikov (the stage adaptation of Crime and Punishment) at Theater Starnik, and on Saturday the Nutcracker, possibly performed on ice, at the Sports Palace, where we went to watch the Ska hockey match all those weeks ago.

First, to describe the philharmonic. I must admit, as uncultured as I am the prospect of sitting in one place for hours listening to classical music didn’t quite inspire undulations of joy in my heart, but I was very very much pleasantly surprised. First of all, the surroundings are beautiful. The hall is splendidly large and sumptuously attired primarily in gold and white, with huge chandeliers providing the lighting. The subject of the night’s performance was ‘Romeo and Juliet’ by Tchaikovski, a work that I had never heard before. I enjoyed most the sections in which the entire orchestra took part, grandly backed my percussion and integrated so stunningly that it was breathtaking, with one exception. The soloist for the evening was a cello-ist with one of the most arresting stage presences that I’ve ever witnessed in a musician. It didn’t hurt that she was beautiful, appearing on-stage in a long amber-embroidered ball-gown and poised perfectly awaiting the signal of the conductor. As soon as the music started it was as thought the audience didn’t exist, only the music, and watching her play was like watching music take form and play itself, all grace and smooth, gliding action. I have never loved a string instrument like I loved the cello as she played it, and as a past player of both the violin and the viola, this is perhaps saying something. But I never did get to the cello, and she made hers sing.

The conductor was also one of the best parts of the evening. He had a warm, slightly hear-sighted smile and his movements were masterful. The control that he had over the orchestra was remarkable; I believe that no-one’s little finger could command that sounds that his could.

So much for the philharmonic, and on to Eugene (in Russian ‘Evgenii’) Onegin. Acclaimed as the greatest work of Pushkin (and so, to Russians, the greatest work of their greatest poet), I decided to read Eugene Onegin the day that I went to see the opera, and good thing too given the Russian being sung is even harder to understand than when it is spoken. So earlier that day I sat and, in the course of approximately two hours, read the work. Originally it is in poetic form, but the translator of the edition I read sacrificed verse on the altar of lucidity and story, so while the language was poetic it was not an actual poem. It is, in fact, a very very good story and no doubt an incredible poem when in its proper form (this morning, when talking to my host mother about the performance, she recommended that I buy and read it in Russian, in order to really get it; this seems to be a common conception, and no doubt a correct one). But back to the opera. The Mikhailovski theater is perhaps the second best in St. Petersburg, and luxurious enough to be so, all classical baroque and decorated in the actual theater in primarily red and gold. The opera itself was beautifully sung, although perhaps, it being a Tuesday, the singers too a little while to get into the swing of things since the chorus seemed a little off in their first chorus; but who am I to complain? The leads where both lovely singers and good actors, which is probably more rare than it should be. And, having just read the book, it was very interesting to see where the writers of the opera took artistic license, and where they stayed almost completely true. Puskin must really have written Eugene Onegin with an opera in mind, because it fits perfectly; well, he was a romantic, after all, and ended his life in a duel.

So, that leaves the Mariinskii. The Mariinskii is glorious, and gorgeous, and has a screen on which there was printed to follow along with the singing an English translation of what was going on. I will admit that this perhaps endeared me more than is quite right to the theater, but having gone into it knowing very, very little about the plot of The Brothers Karamozov, I would have been lost without it. As it is, I was left with a strong desire to read the book, the opera was that intriguing. As to the physical appearance of the theater, it is more winding and sectioned up than the Mikhailovski, but interesting because of it. Then again, we were only on the first floor of the Mikhailovski, and in the first tier of the marinskii. This is, I’m convinced now, the only way to watch opera, ideally with the whole box dedicated to your party. Why anyone would ever choose to sit on the ground when it is possible to sit above, as though suspended and able to gaze out at the stage with virtually no interruption is impossible to guess. And the seats are upholstered with blue! Actually, I believe that they are like that everywhere, and overall the Mariinskii is the blue version of the Mikhailovski’s red interior, but more lush in every possible way. The Mariinskii, by the way, is THE theater in St. Petersburg, or rather THE ballet at least. And deservedly so. The production merited the grand surroundings, and that really is saying something. Masterfully put together, very well acted for the most part and completely well sung and played, seamlessly running- I could go on, but bore everyone to tears. Suffice to say that it was fantastic, and leave it at that.

We shall see how the rest of theater week goes. The problem with seeing this much theater is that it only makes me want to see more, which both my budget and studying habits probably can’t quite stand.

On an entirely different note, it has finally stopped raining! For the past few days there hasn’t been a drop, although I always expect it to arrive, and the world is drying up. Gone the moats to cross and lakes to leap! Walking home late from the theater is infinitely more enjoyable when done under dark velvety skies streaked with cloud than through drizzle.

* Please excuse any and all typos. I could spell most of this in Russian, but English transliteration fails to inspire correct spelling or a great desire for accuracy in me.

How to Compare? or ‘Is Russia really for me, and I just don’t know it?’

The easiest way to distinguish Berlin from Saint Petersburg (and, really, Germany from Russia) is that Berlin rests on an even plane of development, solidly first-world, and even at the upper spectrum of first-world in terms of public transportation, recycling, etc. Russia, on the other hand, rests on the first-world industrial plain tentatively, but endangered by what can only be described as gaping holes that fall right back down to second- or third-world standards. The lack of drinkable water is the most notable of these. Berlin was comfortable and welcoming not only because it, as a major Western power, was understood, but also because there was no danger of these holes and things were roughly as expected. In Russia, these discrepancies really throw one right off balance, and it’s incredibly disconcerting.

Russia is also just a scarier place. I think that this is understandable, given its history, the difficulty in getting into the country, the notably corrupt police force and the care which one is advised to exercise at all times. In Russia, you better hope that you have your spravka (information/ visa) with you all the time, just in case you’re stopped by the police. I’m not entirely sure what happens if you don’t have it, but I believe it might involve at least temporary Russian jail time, and from what I’ve heard that is not something pleasant. In Germany, we didn’t even need a visa to get into the country, and while technically you’re meant to carry your passport at all times, Tom and children reassured me that it really wasn’t all that necessary. I think the phrase ‘don’t worry’ might have actually passed their lips. Don’t worry? Why ever not? Oh, of course, because its not Russia. The amount of tension I am currently carrying in my shoulders is a very good indication of how worrying Russia really is. I don’t think that I’ve been this tense on average since I played violin, and that was a muscle thing. I don’t think its terribly healthy. Of course, the language does make it more stressful, but I don’t know German either; granted, most people speak English, but it just didn’t seem to be as big a deal.

Customer Service exists in Germany. It doesn’t exist in Russia. Although really, after I got over the first shocks of cashiers being unhelpful and even downright rude, in a strange way I appreciate their honesty. They don’t feel like they have to pretend to be happy to make your day better; their job is to ring up groceries, not flatter anyone’s ego. And they’re really not all mean, they just aren’t dedicated to customer service. On the other hand, not having to worry about having the right change was a huge relief. It honestly adds about three grey hairs to my head every time that I have to worry about if I have enough small bills in my purse as I get in line at the grocery store. So basically, people in Germany are nicer to strangers, as a general rule.

At this point, I will take a moment out to make a small disclaimer; everything I say about Russia are basically wide-ranging conclusions based on relatively limited personal experience. I may well be wrong in some, if not all, of my assertions. Unfortunately, its very difficult to write about anyone else’s opinions, so inevitably they have to be mine, as incorrect as they might be. Please take them with a grain of salt.

To continue. I believe that Russian society is more to the point, less melodramatic. Germany was more colorful, more out-there, but also probably a little more useless. It could also simply be that Russians don’t see any point in making something more than it really is, and just buckle down and deal with it. Overall, Russians certainly seem more distant in public. I have a related quote from my Russian history professor, about how in Communist time “Russians were taught to not really be sincere, they developed a multi-layered conscientiousness in which we knew what to say in certain situations, which is why foreigners were so strange, because they were sincere. We couldn’t be sincere.” A tendency to be ‘zakritii’ (closed) in public is certainly something to be noticed in Russia, and not so much in Berlin, but every Russian that I know is very friendly once you get to know them.

Enough comparing for now. One thing that was very interesting to note about coming back to Russia was to see what I’d forgotten, but also how welcome so much of it newly was. Walking home from the metro the rows of apartment buildings were positively welcoming. I’ve realized sometimes, when I think about it, that although Russia is a harder place to live than a lot of others that I’ve been to, I actually like that about it. Not always; in fact, probably not even most of the time. But challenges make one grow, and constant challenge (in theory, perhaps also in practice) means constant growth. Plus, its always interesting. There are a lot of things that I really love about Russia.

Now back to current times. Recently, especially the last few days, the weather’s been getting colder. A hat and gloves have actually been necessary, and there are times when I actually don’t have all the feeling in my hands. My roommate said that it smelled like snow two days ago. Needless to say, I’m very excited, both at the prospect of real winter and at the possible indication that global warming isn’t all that bad just yet.

Today is a national holiday, ‘National Unity Day’, which is sort of an artificial one. It was designed to replace the Communist national holiday celebrating the revolution, and it technically celebrates the regaining of Moscow from the Poles in the 17^th century, an event which modern Russians probably care little about and possibly don’t even know that its ‘why’ they’re celebrating. But it’s a holiday, so why not be happy! In what my professor described as ‘typical Russian’ fashion, the holiday fell on a Tuesday this year and many people used that as an excuse to make it a four-day weekend (as did, I think, the State, since we had school off on Monday too). Very sensible, in my opinion.

Now, in an exciting new development, I can start adding pictures that I’ve actually taken in Saint Petersburg onto the blog! My lovely, wonderful and very surprising parents bought and sent me a digital camera for my birthday, but it took much longer than expected to arrive; I picked it up about a week ago. And now there can be pictures! The ones I’m putting on today should give you all an idea of where I live; they’re all from around my neighborhood, some from off our balcony. The last one is the remains of the watermelon stand near my house, finally closed down as it actually just got too cold, the end of Watermelon Season. Enjoy!!