Moscow City Day
Saturday was City Day! As promised by the Russian government, there were clear skies. Helicopters would circle around throughout the day, to assure that no menacing clouds ruined the festivities. It’s so weird. But hey, when in Russia!
We made our way to the start of the excitement. Every section of the festival had different themes. There was an art section, a vintage area, a circus, Olympics, religion, and several others.
We started in the arts area. There were lots of books and posters. My favorites were the “Anti-American Propaganda Posters” from the communist period. They were so great. About 20 beanbags were laying out for public use, so we utilized the rare comfort of Moscow and took in the sights and sounds for a little while. There was a canvas with highlights of Moscow outlined. The people handed me a plate of paint and told me to paint on it. It was super cool! We all got to paint on this canvas and make our mark on the festival.
We then made our way to a cathedral. It was beautiful. Many of the women inside the church were upset that we didn’t have our heads covered with a scarf. The guy in charge said it was no problem that our heads weren’t covered. For those who don’t know, in the Russian Orthodox Church, women must cover their heads with scarves, especially when inside a church. I felt bad that I had inadvertently disrespected that culture.
The guy in charge spoke a little English, so he gave us information about the history of the cathedral. He then took us over to a museum… of someone’s house (yeah, none of us caught the name of whose house it was). The house was beautiful, and on the way there we passed Leo Tolstoy’s former home. It was pretty nice. Someone else lives there now and probably thought I was a weirdo for dropping into their yard to snap a pic of their house.
The next section we traveled through was the “retro” section. I would call it more “vintage” than retro, but whatever. There was a lot of chess and lots of old guys playing chess. They had little flea markets spread through the area. There were a lot of really amazing things but were pretty overpriced. I opted out of buying things, just because I know I could find them cheaper on a different day. We sat at a chess table and took in the sights for a while. Children giggling, old men dueling over the queen in chess, men and women selling their wares, young lovers hand in hand. It was the first time that I saw people smiling. The Russian people are not smiley or friendly on the streets, but on this day, they celebrated their Russian culture.
By this point in the day, we were all starving! I don’t know what the deal is, but our coordinator is never hungry or something. We have to remind her repeatedly that we need to eat. Everyone was dragging their feet in desperate need of food (maybe that was just me…I get really “Hangry” when I don’t eat).
As I dragged my aching feet and feeble body down the street, a beacon of hope shone in front of me *insert angel choir here*. A burger place. I know that I should be taking advantage of all the Russian cuisine, but sometimes you need a good old-fashioned hamburger. Everyone (except our local coordinator) was thrilled about the prospect of eating at “Beer Buns & Burgers.” We walked in and it was decorated just like it would be back in the states. The restaurant even had an English menu! This may seem blasé to you, but seeing an English menu is like a gift from heaven. There was no guesswork as to what we would be eating!
Here’s the deal- I love burgers. American burgers. A thick, juicy cow on top of a sesame bun, and I am a happy girl. Russia does not maintain those standards. The bun was great, but the meat didn’t live up to my dreams. It was too mushy. You know how hamburger has that perfect grind? Here it is pulverized and thin. I don’t know, I think Russia is really slacking when it comes to burgers. Hey, their fries were delicious though! Beer battered fries, baby!
We then walked through the circus section of the festivities-kind of lame. There just wasn’t much going on. I want to see the Russian circus while I’m here, just not that lame one.
At this point, we were all a little burned out on the festivities. We had lots of stuff to do that day, so we decided to head home and plan our lessons for the next week.
That night, I had a heck of a time sleeping. I was so tired, but couldn’t sleep. I have insomnia anyway, but this night was rough. My room was boiling hot! You would assume that the answer would be simple, open a window. Wrong. This is the point where you have to choose your battles and decide which part of your life you are willing to sell out. If you keep the window closed, you will melt. If you open the window, the mosquitos will come and suck your blood all night, then leave you itchy for two weeks. I tried to keep the window closed for a while, then finally gave in and opened the window. As soon as I lay back down, I heard that dreaded humming sound of an army of mosquitos. I hopped out of bed and began to swat at the monsters-yeah I was pretty unsuccessful in my mosquito hunt, but the mosquitos were really successful in eating me alive all night. Mosquitos 1-Madison 0.
The next morning, I was dead tired. After all, I was awake half the night trying to commit mosquito genocide. After sleeping in for a few more hours, I got ready for the day and worked on my lessons a little more.
The Part Where We Got Lost. So Lost.
At around 7 p.m., Jess and I decided to go to Ashan. We both needed a few items (mosquito bite cream being at the top of my list), so I decided it was a good time to go to the store. It was quite the adventure… Allow me to begin.
If you have ever traveled with my family, you know that we have a tendency to get lost in the worst parts of town. Evidently, this talent for getting lost has passed on to me. I’ve been lost in Venice, Rome, Nassau, everywhere I’ve visited in the United States, and now Moscow.
So in order to get to the store, you have to take a shuttle bus. We had done it before, so we were confident that we would make it work. We got to the store just fine. We found our things and walked back to the shuttle stop. After a while of waiting, we worried that the shuttle wouldn’t come. We oh so naïvely hopped onto a bus that said it would take us to where we came from (in Russia, you can’t always count on the busses to take you where you need to go).
After about a half-hour of riding on the bus, we began to worry that the bus driver wasn’t taking us home. We were correct in that assumption. The bus driver stopped at a random bus stop and kicked us off the bus. No explanation (not that it would matter, since the explanation would be in Russian). So Jess and I are standing at some dark bus stop, in the middle of who knows where, Moscow. My mind immediately kicks into high gear. I didn’t know where to go, but I knew we needed to get off of that street as soon as possible. We asked a woman with a child how to get to the metro, and she said to take a bus. I was a little skeptical of busses since we had just been kicked off of one, but took her advice.
A shuttle bus (rather, a sketchy van- I suppose I should be honest about that) came by and we explained to the driver (mostly in a made-up sign language, and caveman talk), that we needed to get to the metro. I knew we could find our way home if we could just get to a metro. So the driver loads us into his serial killer van and begins driving. Seeing that Jess and I were the only ones in his van, I was more than a little worried that this sketchy guy from Uzbekistan was kidnapping us. I snapped a few pictures of him so I could send it to the American Embassy if he was in fact kidnapping us.
Judging by the fact that you are reading this on my blog, and not in headlining news, you have probably deduced that the Uzbekistani van man did not kidnap us. He took us to the metro, and we worked our way home. We were FAR from home, by the way. That first bus took us to a completely different part of Moscow. After three metro changes and an hour of travel, we finally made it back to the metro stop we needed. The fun doesn’t end there, though. I still had a half an hour walk back to my apartment- in the dark. You had better believe that I was looking over my shoulder non-stop, checking side streets to assure that I don’t get jumped. I probably looked like a crazy person scurrying through the streets like a frightened animal.
I am proud to report that I made it home safely. I was praying my heart out the whole way home! As soon as that bus kicked us to the curb, I was praying. Luckily, nothing bad happened. All was well. We survived!
A Teaching Note
So if you read my last blog entry, you know that my students are heathens. Breaking desks, sassy, mean. You know, all the good stuff. Today went MUCH better. I went into class today with a “don’t mess with me attitude.” I don’t like having to be so stern, but I know that these kids will push me if I don’t set boundaries. My kids were complete angels…that is, until my trouble child arrived. Kyrill. I don’t know what this kid’s problem is. He is freaking CRAZY! He arrived an hour and a half late, and as soon as he showed up, my class went to crap. This kid likes to instigate issues in the class. He talks kids into fighting and being ridiculous. He thinks he is better than everyone and makes fun of all the other kids. He tries to sneak his iPhone to his desk (bear in mind that he is about eight years old). I don’t know any eight-year-olds with that much action on their phones. He gets phone calls every few minutes! It’s a serious problem. What kid of eight-year-old gets that many phone calls? I am lucky if I get one phone call a week. Hmm… maybe this says more about me than him, in the phone call department.
Anyways, our coordinator is going to talk to his mom and tell her that if he doesn’t clean up his act, he’s kicked out of the program. I hate to be mean, but I really hope he gets the boot. My class was so great without him, and he just brings problems with him.
Okay, that’s probably enough for today. I could go all day, but you probably don’t want to read much more than this.
I love and miss you all!
All my love,
Madison
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