Good Morning America!
This morning I woke up and realized that I simply could not go to class, so I skipped grammar and reading and went to this little French Cafe in the center of town. I finally had time to write in my Russian journal and am proud to say that I've written all but five entries since I've been in Astrakhan. It's new for me, okay? I sat at the park while waiting for my marshrutka and met a belorussian guy who stopped talking to me once he figured out that I didn't speak Russian very well. Another older man sat next to me and offered me an apricot, which I declined, but then he put it in my hand and put three more in my bag. It was really sweet (the gesture, not the apricot), but we've been told not to eat fresh fruit and vegetables (you know, the healthy stuff) unless it comes from a restaurant or our families. I made it to school in time for a scintillating lecture on human rights--I am not entirely sure why our lectures have to be about things that none of us can actually talk about in Russian. We got a handout with a list of the rights ensured by the UN (?) and my friend and I had look up almost every single word.
Yesterday, my family and I went to this dacha place that had a small pond with lotuses and hung out there for most of the day. I fell asleep in the sun and have a very painful sunburn to prove it. After that, Natasha and I went out with her boyfriend and some of his friends. His friends were enamoured with me--the Amerikanka--and asked me ever pressing questions, such as: "Do you like 'negroes'?" and "Do Americans love sex?" It took awhile--and many hypothetical situations--to explain that. I found out that my sister can't (or doesn't want) to tell Valya that her boyfriend is her boyfriend because he is Chechnyan and Valya wouldn't approve (I have been instructed to refer to him as her "friend"). It's sad; he's a really nice guy.
Friday we met with famous authors from Astrakhan--all three of them--during dinner. The author (forgot his name) sitting at my table wrote a book called "Pirates of the Caspian Sea." He asked us if we planned to use Russian in our careers and on of my classmates said: "Well, I'd like to but I want to work on creating robots and I'm not sure how to fit Russian into that." The author turned to him and said: "It's very simple!! Just teach the robot to speak Russian!" He was cute (the author, not my classmate).
Saturday was by far my favorite day in Astrakhan. It all started at about 1:30 am on Saturday morning. I was sitting in the kitchen with Natasha and Valya and talking to them about various things. Natasha always makes fun of me because whenever she asks me how I am doing or if I want to go out with her (on a school night), I always answer "I'm so tired." I usually just say that because I don't know how to say "I am mentally exhausted from listening to every single word that every single person says to me and frustrated because sometimes I just don't ever understand them" po-russki. Anyway, while we were talking, Natasha suddenly yawned and said "oy! I am tired, I want to sleep." I answered "What's that? You're tired? I woke up at 6 o'clock this morning and I'm not tired..." She didn't get it at first, but Valya started laughing and saying "She's making fun of you!!" It was great to finally be at least slightly sarcastic in Russian...I don't think I could have held out for much longer.
On Saturday proper, I went to the bazaar which is basically an outlet mall...outdoors. You can buy really cheap clothes and purses and shoes (I've done all three!) and basically anything else you'd need. I had fun wandering around and talked to a lot of the shopkeepers. One even told me that my Russian was very good for a foreigner, although I'm pretty sure she was only being polite. I met some of my American friends downtown and we set out to find a book of poems by this famous and revered Astrakhan author, Velmir Khlebnikov (we went to his museum last week--I finally learned his first name). Though evidently it is impossible to find a book of his poetry. The lady at the bookstore showed us about three biographies about him, but said that we probably wouldn't find one that actually had his poetry in it. We also asked about Russian authors we had read in English and they didn't sell books by them either! Not even Dostoevskii. She kept showing us the modern Russian lit, like detective novels and romance novels and saying that they were good and we should by them--she finally asked, in frustration, "why do you only want to buy books by authors you've heard of?!?!" I bought a book of poetry/songs by the Russian Bob Dylan (seriously can't remember names) and she opened the book and started singing her 'favorite song.' She and the other bookseller talked to me about how they want to go to Canada, about their children, about the weather in Seattle...it was great. :)
This weekend we're going to the "tourist base" which is the Russian term for a resort. I highly doubt that Russia's perception of a resort is the same as my perception, so I am trying to lower my expectations. I only hope that we have actual bathrooms and not outhouses. We'll get to see the lotuses on the Caspian Sea, go boating, go to the banya (not sure how I feel about that!), and maybe I'll be able to even out my tan! (okay, so my priorities are a little off these days...).
Anyway, I'm, yet again, late for my club. Off to dance, russki style!
Cheerio,
Maria
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