Thanks, Empress E.

In this last month, I've been massively exploring, taking pictures, slipping and sliding on ice, and getting to know more about my family and friends here. But I've also been going to school. Here, to be exact. Also known as the "Smolny Institute" within St. Petersburg State University. I'm not sure what I did in my relatively short life to deserve this, but I am forever grateful. The cathedral (actually a concert hall) and the surrounding complex was built by Empress Elizabeth I as a nunnery, having herself a desire to enter the convent in her old age (though she never got around to it). We can thank Bartolomeo Rastrelli for the crazy color pallet and extravagance of design. Rastrelli was an Italian architect Elizabeth recruited to create her Winter Palace, now the Hermitage Museum. Elizabeth continued in the footsteps of her father, Peter the Great, in westernizing Russia, especially by inviting European artists, engineers, architects, and thinkers to Russia. Eventually, the Smolny non-convent morphed into a center of education for noble young ladies in the late 18th century. Famous Russian painter, Dmitri Levitsky, depicted many of these students in a series of portraits entitled, "Smolianki"

On our first night in St. Petersburg, we got a drive-by glimpse of Smolny Cathedral. The program directors told us that this was the entrance to our university and our jaws dropped like kids in a candy shop. We have yet to close our mouths.

Welcome to Rossiya!

Dearest family and friends,

I hope this blog finds you happy and well! Nearing the three week mark here in St. Petersburg, I wanted to let you know that I miss you a lot and only wish that you could witness with your own eyes the things I've seen and will recount in the months ahead. I hope my words can do my experience justice.

These past two weeks have been a crazy trip, to say the least, processing millions of incoming observations and trying to make sense of them all. I took my first hit of the culture shock drug as we hit the ground in St. Petersburg. Everyone was speaking Russian. Snow and xenophobia filled the air. It started to hit me-I'm in RUSSIA!!! WOAH. During the first few days, my program ran an intensive orientation, where jet lag definitely got the better of me (8 hour time difference from the US East Coast. FYI: Russia spans 11 time zones!) Gradually, orientation became a good bonding experience, and we all managed to retain some helpful tips on surviving and thriving in our new surroundings (some of which have proved quite handy already):

-Don't drink the water unless you enjoy dissentary illnesses such as Giardia Lambia.

-The mullet is accepted as a current hairstyle and is even encouraged.

-The sun rises at 9:30 am, sets at 4, and hides behind a blanket of grey clouds in between. Only 65 days in the year are sunny.

(A powerpoint slide showed the phrase "Question Authority" with a giant line through it...mmmm about that...)

-Avoid eye contact and smiling on the street/public transport. It is considered rude or can be taken as a flirtatious invitation (sounds easy enough, right? We Americans smile and stare more than we realize).

-Stray dogs and cats most likely have rabbes. No matter how adorable they are, don't touch. Even if black pugs solicit your participation in Treat to Eat programs :(

-It is illegal to be drunk in public. If you run into the militsia/police, you're off to what's affectionately termed "The Drunk Tank." This is one place not on my list of must-sees. The militsia, dressed in uniforms reminiscent of Soviet times, pretty much scare the crap out of me.

etc. etc. etc.

So, on Day 3, after our second HIV test at the Otto Clinic and last paperwork, it was time to meet our homestay families, whom we knew nothing about until the previous day. I'll be honest, I had a huge knot in my stomach thinking about this occasion, the almost certain miscommunications, etc. But after realizing that they probably wouldn't bite and were extremely decent people for taking me in the first place, I started to get excited. My host mom, Galina Bacilevna (approx. 65) came out of the apartment building to greet me and introduced me to her daughter, Elena Vladimirovna (approx. 30). Elena then introduced me to the apartment, which consists of a kitchen, bathroom and shower (separated), my room, and living room. It's tight but very cozy and WARM! Tea is like water in this country and is always brewing. The apartment is centrally located on Grashdanskaya Ulitsa, about a 15 minute walk from Nevsky Prospect, the main drag of St. Petersburg. My first night in the apartment, Elena V. took me on a walking tour of the city and our neighborhood. She was very knowledgable about St. Petersburg and its history but unfortunately, I could only understand and respond to about 25% of what she told me. Still, it was super gracious of her to show me around and make me feel welcome. Both Elena V. and Galina B. have been really generous so far, especially in the language department, patiently listening to me butcher their language and other times, consoling me when I am left totally mute. I often get the "it's cute that you're trying" look. We're now starting to learn each other's idiosyncracies, both a fun and frustrating process, about which I'll be able to comment more as time passes.

Anyways, I wish I could relay everything at once, but my energy dwindles with the sunlight.

Thanks to everyone who has sent me messages and mail for keeping me connected. I really appreciate it, and please continue to update me on what's up in your life too.

Much Love and Spakonee Nochee-Good Night :)

P.S. please forgive my neglect of this blog for ohhh, a year and a half and the complete irrelevance of its title at the moment ;P As always, photos of this semester can be found on Flickr. 

A Secret of Life

In my struggle against persistent awareness at 3:00 last night, I thought it might help to pop in my headphones and drown my ears in peaceful melodies, hoping to transition into unconsciousness. But suddenly, I was pulled back by a drifting lyric, which offered what I consider a real golden nugget. It wasn't an earth shatteringly original theory of how to be happy and solve it all, but it's one idea among many worth being reminded of: "the secret of life is enjoying the passage of time." I dont really know why it struck me right then and there. Perhaps its just James Taylor's voice, which always convinces me he ain't singin' nothin' but the good, honest truth. But anyways, it did strike me. For one thing, I remembered that when you think to try it, it works. "Works" meaning that it renders a sort of profound satisfaction. But the trouble is that this profundity doesn't last for long. So frequently, we forget to practice it or simply don't realize its relevance to the fast pace of everyday life. It seems like our most routine realtionship with time as we've constructed it, is one of competition. Since time immemorial (sorry), we've been producing art, poetry, music, that express the fear of being outrun by time, like opponents in a race. I think that we're afraid of not "making the most of our time," which ultimately translates into not making the most of ourselves, not doing all that we want to do, accomplishing all that we want to accomplish, being who we want to be. We yearn to change time and to be given more time than we've got, thinking if we had it, we might achieve all of these things, which is probably false being as flawed as we are. We hear a hint of this idea in phrases like, "Dontcha wish there were more hours in the day?," "I just wish I could have spent one more day with her." Unable to change the situation, sometimes people cling to the past, or root themsleves in the future. We fixate on our expectations of the future, worrying about neverending lists of things to be done, resolved ("Am I gonna make this flight on time?," "I have to present this entire project by next week", "My biological time clock is ticking and I need to be married by the time I hit 35.") At times we simply look forward in order to avoid or get through the reality of some sufffering or stagnancy ("I hate this job. One day, I'm gonna get the hell out of here," "In a month, I'll be totally over him and he won't matter anymore.") Even while mulling over all this, I was simultaneously pushing into the future, "Its 3:30 now. I'll only have 6 hours of sleep.That means I'll be tired at work. Then I won't want to hang out with people once I get off. Then I'll become a hermit..." Well, you know what I mean. I guess all the thinkers who advocate for a lifestyle in the present are right when they say that we become much more at peace by really accepting the right now and grounding ourselves in it, also not attempting to ignore or fix the current moment. The few times I've remembered to try it, I realize its a difficult process of reminding oneself to come back to it. Also, its kind of funny how you can often see the big picture through the experience of the right now. Just like us, time has limitations. So, I guess we have to readjust every once in awhile and truly see it as a gift, meant not for resentment but renewed appreciation. Not a sermon, just a thought. Oh and sorry for the incredibly long drought with these posts. This is the first thing in a while I've felt compelled to put into words. Other than that, I pretty much have no excuse. Hope to be updating a little more regularly...

Today, I snuck back into tourist mode and stood for a whopping two hours to reach the 80th floor of the Empire State Building. (After resigning your title as vacationer to part-time NY resident in September, the idea was that you were also supposed to stop wanting to do touristy things, like seeing the Statue of Liberty.) Well, once I got to the top, I remembered why millions of people flock to this building. The breathtaking views made you set the camera down and let just your eyes feast on the amazing cityscape. Lesson learned: some tourist traps are totally worth getting trapped in.

Struggling to Keep up with Time

"Sleepwalkers"

On a convoluted trip back to campus in freezing February, I passed by the Moma around 10:00 pm and stumbled across this video exhibit. Eight short films, projected onto the exterior walls of the museum, follow the strictly individual experience of one New Yorker throughout the course of his or her day. The night atmosphere and the accompaniment of city sounds around you made these films very peaceful to watch. The pictures and trailer on the Moma site do it much more visual justice:

http://www.moma.org/exhibitions/2007/aitken/

Split Screen Station

Just Kidding. It works now.

Geeez.

I am writing from the wonderful Fordham library as there is currently no internet in my room. Many apologies for the annoying blip in posts.

Interview with Abigail McIntyre

ED: So, Abby, what's new in your life since your big debut at the baptism? AM: Well, first of all, it was a real treat to be able to work with Father English, my parents, and my godparents, but I'm really happy to be back in my DE apartment. At the moment, my newest project is working on my teeth, which should be coming out in a few weeks. But ya know, at 5 months old, I think it's time to step back and really start enjoying life. After the release of all four teeth, I'm planning on kicking back with my mom and dad, and just keepin it real.

Baby Love