And time grows short

We have less than two weeks left in Russia, and everything has suddenly sped up. Actually, ever since we got back from Finland everything has been going ridiculously quickly. Still, I will try to describe the past weeks, somehow distinguishing events from the blur that they have left in my mind.

With the snow came a lot of wandering around in it, naturally. The week after coming back from Finland was mainly just walking and readjustment to Saint Petersburg in its new white, and later slushy form. Also a lot of soup making, and subsequent soup enjoyment. I’ve discovered that Russian are not crazy for eating ice cream at below freezing temperatures, it is actually very enjoyable. We went to the Pushkin Apartment Museum, which was decent but not actually as interesting as real art museums, and probably not as interesting to us as to Russians, since he is their most famous and seemingly most revered poet. I’m thinking for them its more of a shrine… It did make me think about how ridiculous it was to duel over women; I mean really, Pushkin was married to the most beautiful woman of the time, took offense at letter sent to her (letters she never acted on), and subsequently lost his life in a duel. Now, how did that help her, honor intact or besmudged? And it certainly didn’t help him, since he ended up dead. And it certainly didn’t help Russian literature, either.

Anyway. I also visited the Hermitage twice, which sadly only convinced me that there is not and never will be enough time for me to see all that I would like to. Ideally, starting exploring earlier would have been a good idea, but c’est la vie. More will be packed in the remaining weeks.

I have been spending more time on the trams, and subsequently a deep appreciation for the public transportation here. Naturally, I am also dreading leaving it, although really I have at least some available bake in the States. Maybe its just the really, truly beautiful metro that I will miss. Especially it’s extreme frequency.

Last Tuesday, I wandered through the entire Ancient Art section of the Hermitage, and then Ashley and I went to a Banya! It was very, very exciting. For those not in the know, Banya’s are (public, generally) bath houses, where before the Krushev (if that’s how you spell his name in English) housing reforms most of the public went to bath weekly, due to the lack of facilities in their homes/communal apartments. Although really, the essential part of the Banya is the steam room, where you can go to sweat out all the dirt and impurities in your system before washing them all off under the shower/with buckets of water. Its actually a decently complicated process, so it was lucky that we asked one of our professors (the amazingly cool and possible ex-Communist informant Igor) about what to do before actually going. The right way to do things is something like the following. First, of course, pay- entrance for an hour and a half cost about a dollar, and a sheet to wrap yourself in cost about $1.50. Then put your belongings into a locker in the entrance/storage/relaxation/cool-down room; the woman at the front will lock your valuables away if you want. After undressing – completely, I might add, no modesty here – you first go claim a bench, filling a tub with hot water, washing the bench and placing everything you need on it. This includes putting your birch branch into the tub to soak. Then, take a trip to the shower to wash off outside dirt. It is not time to proceed to the steam room for the first time, and it is damned hot. As Igor said, listen to your body, and spend only maybe 5 minutes in the steam room the first time. Finally, exit the steam room - you will probably be bright red at this point – take a shower, and go wrap yourself in a sheet and relax in the first room. Maybe drink some tea, or beer, if you want to be really Russian. Water, if you’re us, since you WILL get dehydrated. After you have cooled down completely, its time for the steam room again. Rinse, repeat.

Igor said that its normal to spend anywhere from an hour to three hours in the Banya, depending on your personal preference. We went into the steam room three times, which might be about normal, and spent almost exactly an hour and a half there. You can tell the really hardcore people because of a couple things. One, they wear wool hats in the steam room (Igor told us to, its meant to protect your head), they get in just when people throw hot water on the coals and the most burning steam arises, and they beat themselves vigorously with birch branches. Yes, birch branches. According to the ever-wise Igor, this is to get the air circulating around the skin for a better result. It actually feels quite pleasant but sounds nasty. There was a little girl getting wacked by her mother when we went, and to hear her you’d think that it was as bad as a horse whip or something. This is not the case.

Overall, the Banya was fantastic. You don’t notice that you’re naked when you’re surrounded by that many naked people, so that certainly wasn’t a problem. And thanks to Igor, we were well-prepared. Also, the steam room is really just fantastic; they scented the water with what smelled like birch essential oil or something, and the platform is built of a dark wood, so you almost feel like you’re in a very hot, rustic cabin. And the atmosphere of the banya is so cheerful and communal, women helping each other lug water, soaping each others’ backs, sometimes beating each other with birch branches. It’s a very organic and natural place, really, and I fully plan to return again. Tomorrow, actually. Although time is running out, perhaps we will try a higher class of banya before we leave, including a cold pool to plunge into that Igor says makes you feel like you have no skin. Which must be interesting, to say the least.

Wednesday was exciting because I got a library card from the National Library in Saint Petersburg. This was a reasonably long process, since I had to bring my passport, fill out a form, and be questioned briefly re: form by the woman behind the desk. But it was free, and you need a card to ENTER the library, you can’t just look around. It’s a lovely building and perfect for studying, which I will probably do more of in the coming week as my exams loom. Actually, they’re already looming. The library itself has an impressive collection, including one of Bede’s manuscripts, the monk who wrote (arguably?) the first history of England back in the middle ages. This was very impressive to a history nerd such as myself.

On Wednesday we also went to see The Master and Margarita, a fantastic stage adaptation of a novel by the same name. I won’t go into detail about the play in order to not ruin the novel, although I highly recommend it, but the entire play was quite fantastically done. It took place at the Baltiiskii Teatr (Baltic Theater), right behind Peter and Paul Fortress. The Theater has a massive stage, and it was very much used to its own advantage, often divided and simultaneously used in several layers. The costuming was fantastic in its own right as well.

Thursday was Thanksgiving, which we had catered in an American restaurant. Somehow, without the family and a table creaking under the weight of the food upon it, it just wasn’t quite the same. Enjoyable, naturally, but just not quite the same. Although there was a absolutely decadent pumpkin/something chocolate/pecan pie.

Friday there was a disgusting amount of class, and then Ashley and I attempted to return to the banya but were thwarted by a line that went out the door, down the stairs and right by the coat check. Awful.

Saturday we had an organized excursion to the Baltika (Beer) Factory in Saint Petersburg. Baltika makes about 38% of all the beer in Russia, which is incredibly impressive given how much in drunk. It was fairly interesting, including the ‘hall of glory’ of Baltika awards, what I like to call the ‘Hall of Past Glory’ which showed the old equipment used, and the ‘Hall of Sponsor Glory’ which contains presents given to Baltika from mainly organizations they sponsor, but which includes a plaque from the political party currently in power in the government; naturally, drunk people are easier to deal with than sober ones. The whole placed also smelled very pleasantly of beer. Well, if you like beer it was pleasant.

We went out Saturday evening to a fancy Ukranian Restaurant where I had borsch unlike any I have every tasted before. Delicious, but different. We also had a group of people dressed in traditional costume sing and play instruments for us, which was wonderful.

On Sunday I spent a shameful amount of time at the second hand Market. It really is wonderful, now that I’ve discovered its secret; there is the obvious second hand stalls, but to get to the really good stuff you have to walk a good quarter mile (perhaps I exaggerate, but it is far) through all the other stalls to reach the glorious field where people lay their wares out on plastic sheets or blankets on the ground to be qawked at by passersby. The things you can find are really incredibly varied and wonderfully old treasures are to be found.

After the glory that is the market, I took the metro into the center to meet Tanya (my homestay mother) at Isaac’s Cathedral, where she works as a guide. After a brief spell of confusion, I met her at the exit, and she led me past security, into the glorious interior. Outside, St. Isaac’s looks very solid and Roman-esque, but inside it is colorful and beautiful. Perhaps a little formal for my tastes, but lovely and very imperial. I joined Tanya’s tour, understanding little but more than nothing, and then we all went up to the collonade that surrounds the dome of the cathedral. There are so many steps going up that at 101 steps to the top they start writing on every ten stairs how many more there are to go. And the view! I have never seen, and understood, Saint Petersburg like that. Here and there stick up golden spires, in some places cranes for repair rise above the buildings, in the distance at the edge of the city rise the steaming chimneys of industry. The city center is so much more cohesive and understandable from the top, without navigating canals and streets that are only grid-like, not laid in a grid. It was magical. Yes, I will use that word.

Sunday Ashley and I made borsch in the evening, which was very much a success; not only did we enjoy it, but Tanya tried some and told me that it was ‘genuine’ borsch, and that she liked the size I but my beets better than how she normally does it. This, as you can imagine, was a fantastic compliment and has probably inflated my ego to a dangerous size. She also told me the other day that I don’t seem American, or at least not before I open my mouth I assume, which I took as compliment.

Today, Monday, I spent four hours cooking and then eating Plaf (Pilaf in English?) with Tanya. It’s a wonderful feeling to be able to make yourself understood for that long in another language, although I admit that grammar mistakes and vocabularly complications are always the order of the day.

Now, a few notes about Russian life. 1) The parking has gotten better with the snow fall, although it is still hazardous and the driving is perhaps on the sketchy side 2) I still can’t believe how children who are so young take public transport by themselves here. 3) Bread is incredibly cheap, good and very, very varied. Of course, Russians love their sweets/bread products passionately so I really shouldn’t be surprised. 4) I never thought I’d get to the point where I’d think ‘one degree outside (~34 F)? Its not cold today!’, but I’m there.

I hope it starts to snow again. There are less than two weeks, and I want to see everything covered again, bright and white and wonderful.