Don't know what you've got 'til it's gone

I have a wonderful, intermediate student who is teaching me Russian. Overall, it's great practice for both of us. She gets a practical application for her English, and I have a safe environment in which to experiment with Russian (and realize that I know a lot more than I think I do). While we only meet once a week, these lessons have increased my confidence. Usually right after the lesson I am eager to try out my newly discovered skills in the teachers' room. This works until someone says something that is above my beginner level, and then I just start responding in English. There is a down side to my confidence. Sometimes I assume someone is saying something different than they are actually saying. I am able to pick up a few words, so I respond thinking that I understand them when in reality I don't. I have found listening is one of the most difficult skills because while I am trying to understand what was said 5 words ago, new words are piling up, and it's definitely a test of my ability to concentrate.

Living in a foreign country where I don't know the language has really limited my independence, but over the past 7 months I have slowly been reclaiming this independence. The first week I remember not wanting to do anything alone, then I rode the metro and ventured out to the store alone, and now I have no problem going about my daily routine and occasional outings alone. I am still limited when it comes to the phone (I have not yet attempted to make a reservation or order take out). But my reclaimed independence has been great. The saying is really true that you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone.

Easter Vigil, Orthodox Style

19 April at midnight, I was standing in the Moscow cold outside a Russian Orthodox Church wishing I had had the foresight to realize I would be standing in the cold for the Easter service. I was wearing my light, spring coat, a calf-length wool skirt, nylons, and yes, high-heels without insulation, and the temperature was below freezing. You would think that a girl who grew up in Idaho would weigh looking fashionable against keeping warm and end up with keeping warm, but you have to keep in mind that it had been around 13 degrees C earlier in the week, and I was crossing my fingers and hoping for spring. Luckily Rachel and I crammed our way into the small church before it started snowing, but I still froze my legs and feet.

Due to the layout of Orthodox churches, they are constructed in the Byzantine style with sections of the church each devoted to a saint and columns obstructing the view of the front of the church, I was unable to see what was going on and because of the cold and overwork was completely exhausted. What I did understand was pretty spectacular. So many people crowded into such a small church, thousands of candles outside the church, a three hour service, incense, and the wish that I had made Rachel brief me on what would happen before I went.

Raised Roman Catholic, I am familiar with tradition, routine, and it all seeming strange to visitors. Regardless, I was still blown away by the amount of repetition and reverence in the Easter Vigil service. The congregation constantly crossed themselves. There was a call and response sounded over and over - in Russian, of course - the priest says, "Christ has Risen" and the response is something like "He has risen indeed." AND people stood for at least 3 hours! Again, I wish I would have known because heels are not the greatest things to stand in for a prolonged period of time. Despite the pain I experienced, perhaps it was my penance, I'm glad I attended the service, if even just for the vast number of people who attended, it was definitely unforgettable.

Spring ... maybe

Sitting in the kitchen one morning, drinking tea and trying to suffer my way through Oblomov, I heard music coming up through the floorboards as I had before, but this time, rather than the familiar slowly ascending and descending cords of the piano leading someone in their vocal warm-up, I heard an operetta. The wonderful cacophony seemed to be played on a Victrolla or record player of some sort, and my mind couldn’t help but wander.

The apartment building was constructed in 1965, just after Khrushchev’s era. The walls and floors are thin but often the building is silent except the occasional flush of water through pipes. Lately, though, a different tone seems to have taken over the building or maybe spring is opening my ears to a life outside my own. Whatever the case, I have begun to hear the sounds of remodeling and the music that comes up to the flat from below.

On this particular morning, my mind wandered to mid-1960s Soviet Russia. What was life like then? I imagined the apartment new, filled with bright smiling people, drinking tea or vodka, eating, and listening to the foreign operetta, and closing my eyes to try and imagine seeing it performed. The daydream didn't last long, Moscow has changed a lot since 1965. Outside I am reminded of that everywhere I look - Foreign franchised companies have taken up shop including McDonald’s and Colin’s Jeans, many sushi and other restaurants have sprung up in the last five years, and foreign goods and produce are in abundance.

The theme of change seems to be right in line with the season. I don't want to get my hopes up too high about spring being here just in time for my birthday, but I did see tulips and daffodils pushing their colored little blossoms out of the ground yesterday. There is still dirty ice/snow in piles around town, but overall the weather seems warmer, the sky is sunnier, and the birds are chirping. I will continue to listen and look for signs of spring, and hopefully my ears will remain open to the various sounds of life in a large apartment building.

Money

What Russian money looks like ... (and in case you are wondering ... no, this is not a lot of money)

Milk Update

I began buying unrefrigerated, boxed milk about two months ago. I grew tired of how quickly the refrigerated, bottled milk went bad, tried bagged refrigerated milk, then finally settled on the boxed milk with the big “M” on it. The first few boxes of milk I bought astounded me with how far away the expiration date was – about 6 years, so I stopped checking dates … then I moved, went to a new grocery store and ended up buying milk that had been packaged in 2002 – quick, do the math, yes, more than 6 years ago! What were you doing in 2002? When this milk was being packaged. The reason this milk lasts so long? It’s been irradiated, and I wonder if it has any nutritional value whatsoever. Regardless, even past its expiration date, it is quite a bit better tasting than any other milk I have found. I can almost drink a glass of it! For some reason Russian milk has a slightly sweet rather than slightly bitter taste to it. The milk I liked in the United States had a nice, solid taste to it and if it was sweet it was not the same strange sweetness that milk here has. One of my British colleagues says that all the milk is from powdered milk, another of my colleagues says that Russian milk isn’t heated like American milk (for pasteurization) instead a chemical is added to the milk. Perhaps the reason the irradiated milk doesn’t taste as bad as the “fresh” milk is the lack of this chemical. Whatever the case, not all milk is created and processed equal.




Find the error, i.e. tell me what I did wrong.