I've now been at home for almost exactly two weeks, and that time is about to come to end. Tomorrow I'll be returning to Colby College, a place I have missed dearly, and to say I am merely excited would be grossly understating the fact.
These two weeks at home have given me a chance to reflect upon my time in Russia, absorb (and forget) many of the lessons from those four months. It's given me a chance to remember how much I enjoy being at home in Bedford, but also a chance to realize that I truly miss those friends I made in Saint Petersburg. I can only hope we can all meet again in the not-too-distant future. It's given me a chance to do what I love, namely doing 911 fire/EMS response again, but also given me a chance to long for a blini or a simple walk by the river or canals in Saint Petersburg.
It was an unforgettable four months in Russia, a truly life changing experience. I have a greater appreciation for the way Russians (and many others outside the US) live, if not a true understanding. My perspective has broadened, my eyes have opened...lalalala, this is all cliché, but like most such things, there is indeed an element of truth.
I do not understand the Russian soul, the Russian mind, or really anything about Russia (to be entirely honest, I'm not sure Russians understand themselves either), and nor did I expect to. Four months is a long time, but not THAT long, and to understand Russia, to truly understand her, would require years. There's something intangibly beautiful and awe-inspiring about the Russian people. The pesky grandmother on the street shoves you out of the way for no good reason has probably survived worse times than most in American can comprehend - and despite her street-shoving ways, she'll welcome you into her home with the proverbial red carpet.
Russians talk about themselves in terms of душа (dyusha), or the soul, which strikes me as entirely appropriate. The soul is something intangible, something impossible to truly grasp and understand, much like Russia herself.
Friday, December 31, 2010
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Heavy Lies the Crown
I have gawked at the Coliseum in Rome. I have stood in Place de la Concorde in Paris, stunned by the expanse of the spectacular city unfolding before me. I have stood on the Grand Canal in Venice, listening to the swish of gondolas as they sail by. I have even (surprise surprise!) stood at the top of the Grand Cascade at Peterhof, surveying the Gulf of Finland as Peter the Great himself once surely did.
These are all spectacular places, all worthy of a vacation, or at least, a brief stop. But no city has instantly captured my heart the way Vienna did. Vienna is the jack of all trades, master of none. Sprawling imperial palace? Check. World class art museum? Uh-huh. Good food and drinks? Absolutely. Friendly people? You bet.
Vienna is not nearly as large as Paris, but it does feel similar to the French capital. It is a compact city of under 2 million with a historical section (the Innere Stadt) studded with beautiful buildings, expensive shopping, and some of the best street food I've ever had the pleasure of enjoying. It's skyline is dominated by the Gothic spires of the Rathaus (city hall) and Stephansdom (St. Stephen's Cathedral). Much like Paris there is a new, spectacular building to be found around the corner. No matter how much one sees in Vienna, there's always the feeling that there's more to do and more to see.
The Hofburg Palace dominates much of the Stadt, and it's facade is appropriately impressive for a city that was once the heart of a vast, multi-ethnic capital. Inside is the Schatzkammer, the museum housing the crown jewels of the Hapsburg dynasty. The collection is simply stunning, including everything from the Holy Lance which was allegedly used by a Roman soldier to pierce Jesus in the side to the crown that Charlemagne himself was crowned with at the birth of the Holy Roman Empire (the Austrian Hungarian Empire was in some ways a continuation of the Holy Roman Empire, much the way the Byzantine Empire carried on the traditions of Rome after Rome itself fell to the barbarians).
A stone's throw away from the Hofburg is the Kunsthistoriches Museum, one of the world's great art collections. It is smaller than the Louvre and the Hermitage, but no less impressive, housing masterpieces such as Breughel's "Hunters in the Snow" and Durher's "Adoration of the Trinity." The building itself does the collection justice, it's neo-classical facade imposing, and the grand foyer is sumptuously decorated with a stunning array of marble and jade.
One of the pleasures of Vienna is simply wandering the Innere Stadt and the Ringstrasse, finding something new on each street, wandering into any one of the many churches to admire the ornate interiors. Bratwurst is the street food of choice here. It is both cheap and delectable; a particular sandwich called the "bosner" won my heart. It consists of a sweet bratwurst in a toasted submarine roll with copious amounts of mustard, onions, and curry. Simply delicious.
If you become tired, stop at any one of the many coffee houses and enjoy a drink and a piece of cake. The coffee houses in Vienna all have table service (the American "to-go" style is largely shunned here), the waiters are usually dressed in tuxedos, and your coffee is served on a silver tray along with a complementary glass of water. Starbucks, I hope you are taking notes.
After finishing your einspanner (double shotted espresso with whipped cream) and sacher torte, wander over towards the opera house and purchase a standing room ticket for under 5 euros and enjoy one of the finest opera companies in the world. Vienna was the cultural capital of Europe for much of the 18th and 19th centuries, and the Viennese are clearly proud of this heritage. Homages to Viennese icons such as Mozart, Beethoven, and Hayden can be found everywhere, and the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra is arguably the best in Europe.
I was lucky enough to be present for the opening of Vienna's famed Christmas markets. I wandered over to the Rathausplatz on my last night in the city, and found it bustling with locals enjoying a night on the town. I purchased a mug of hot spiced wine and wandered around, admiring the stalls and munching on pastries. There are worse ways to spend a Saturday night.
Before coming to Vienna, I would have said Paris was my favorite city in Europe. No longer. Vienna has displaced the City of Lights, and I am anointing it as Europe's best city (at least of the ones I have been to). Heavy lies the crown indeed, but Vienna will not disappoint.
These are all spectacular places, all worthy of a vacation, or at least, a brief stop. But no city has instantly captured my heart the way Vienna did. Vienna is the jack of all trades, master of none. Sprawling imperial palace? Check. World class art museum? Uh-huh. Good food and drinks? Absolutely. Friendly people? You bet.
Vienna is not nearly as large as Paris, but it does feel similar to the French capital. It is a compact city of under 2 million with a historical section (the Innere Stadt) studded with beautiful buildings, expensive shopping, and some of the best street food I've ever had the pleasure of enjoying. It's skyline is dominated by the Gothic spires of the Rathaus (city hall) and Stephansdom (St. Stephen's Cathedral). Much like Paris there is a new, spectacular building to be found around the corner. No matter how much one sees in Vienna, there's always the feeling that there's more to do and more to see.
The Hofburg Palace dominates much of the Stadt, and it's facade is appropriately impressive for a city that was once the heart of a vast, multi-ethnic capital. Inside is the Schatzkammer, the museum housing the crown jewels of the Hapsburg dynasty. The collection is simply stunning, including everything from the Holy Lance which was allegedly used by a Roman soldier to pierce Jesus in the side to the crown that Charlemagne himself was crowned with at the birth of the Holy Roman Empire (the Austrian Hungarian Empire was in some ways a continuation of the Holy Roman Empire, much the way the Byzantine Empire carried on the traditions of Rome after Rome itself fell to the barbarians).
A stone's throw away from the Hofburg is the Kunsthistoriches Museum, one of the world's great art collections. It is smaller than the Louvre and the Hermitage, but no less impressive, housing masterpieces such as Breughel's "Hunters in the Snow" and Durher's "Adoration of the Trinity." The building itself does the collection justice, it's neo-classical facade imposing, and the grand foyer is sumptuously decorated with a stunning array of marble and jade.
One of the pleasures of Vienna is simply wandering the Innere Stadt and the Ringstrasse, finding something new on each street, wandering into any one of the many churches to admire the ornate interiors. Bratwurst is the street food of choice here. It is both cheap and delectable; a particular sandwich called the "bosner" won my heart. It consists of a sweet bratwurst in a toasted submarine roll with copious amounts of mustard, onions, and curry. Simply delicious.
If you become tired, stop at any one of the many coffee houses and enjoy a drink and a piece of cake. The coffee houses in Vienna all have table service (the American "to-go" style is largely shunned here), the waiters are usually dressed in tuxedos, and your coffee is served on a silver tray along with a complementary glass of water. Starbucks, I hope you are taking notes.
After finishing your einspanner (double shotted espresso with whipped cream) and sacher torte, wander over towards the opera house and purchase a standing room ticket for under 5 euros and enjoy one of the finest opera companies in the world. Vienna was the cultural capital of Europe for much of the 18th and 19th centuries, and the Viennese are clearly proud of this heritage. Homages to Viennese icons such as Mozart, Beethoven, and Hayden can be found everywhere, and the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra is arguably the best in Europe.
I was lucky enough to be present for the opening of Vienna's famed Christmas markets. I wandered over to the Rathausplatz on my last night in the city, and found it bustling with locals enjoying a night on the town. I purchased a mug of hot spiced wine and wandered around, admiring the stalls and munching on pastries. There are worse ways to spend a Saturday night.
Before coming to Vienna, I would have said Paris was my favorite city in Europe. No longer. Vienna has displaced the City of Lights, and I am anointing it as Europe's best city (at least of the ones I have been to). Heavy lies the crown indeed, but Vienna will not disappoint.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
A City Reborn
I left Moscow early on the morning of November 7th, boarding an Aeroflot flight for Warsaw. Two hours later we touched down in the Polish capital, quickly made our way to the hostel, and set off to explore the city.
There has been a city of Warsaw for approximately 800 years, but the current Warsaw is by every definition a new city. Perhaps no country suffered as badly as Poland did during World War II, as it was abused by both the Nazis and the Soviets, and Warsaw is a perfect microcosm of this destruction. Warsaw was destroyed by the Germans four separate times: once at the outset of the war during the infamous invasion in 1939, once during the Jewish Ghetto Uprising in 1943, once during the Warsaw Uprising in 1944, and was leveled purely out of spite as the Red Army drew closer and closer to the city. Following the war Poland was firmly behind the Iron Curtain, its citizens subjected to 45 years of communist rule. After the fall of the Soviet Union, Poland was finally free, and Warsaw was able to be rebuilt the way her citizens wanted. The entrance of Poland to the European Union in 2004 has only accelerated the growth of this new, young city as money comes pouring into the nation. The EU has established two schools, two colleges of leadership to educate future leaders of the continent. One is in Brussels, just around the corner from the EU headquarters, and the other is in Warsaw. This gives a sense of where this city is heading.
Walking through Warsaw one gets the feeling of place that is slowly but steadily peeling off layers of communist grime. There are many of the same housing blocks that are found in Saint Petersburg and Moscow, but the ones in Poland look better maintained, cleaner, and in many cases, renovated. The streets don't have potholes, and gourmet coffee shops can be found on every corner. New, sleek skyscrapers are rising with remarkable rapidity, and the city has a new metro system that is being rapidly expanded. Comfortable buses and trams are everywhere, making transportation quick and easy, and the city has a general feeling of friendliness. The biggest reminder of communist rule is the city's tallest building, the massive Palace of Culture and Science. The building houses museums of natural history (the science) and movie theaters (the culture) as well as an observation deck. Built in the Stalinist-Gothic style, it was Stalin's "gift" to the residents of Warsaw, and in gratitude, the people now refer to it as "Stalin's penis." Apparently the Soviet secret police is no longer as fearsome as it used to be.
There are two distinct halves to Warsaw. There is the ultramodern business district, described above, and the painstakingly reconstructed Old Town. In the 1930s, the Old Town was one of the most happening places in Europe, but, as with the rest of the city, the Nazis reduced it to rubble. It has now been meticulously reconstructed, brick by brick, and is now a charming place, filled with people, its winding cobblestone streets lined with stores and restaurants. Everywhere are signs commemorating Frederic Chopin, the great Polish composer, who seems to be regarded as nothing less than a saint in his native country. Tourists amble about, but the area is mostly occupied by Poles, simply enjoying their lives for the first time in what must seem an eternity.
A visit to Warsaw is not complete without paying one's respects to the millions who died there at the hands of the Nazis (Jewish and others alike). The remarkable story of the tragic Warsaw Uprising is documented extensively at a brand new museum on the west side of the city, and is doubtlessly worth the price of admission. Nearby is the enormous Jewish Cemetery, which contains countless graves as well as some touching reminders of the Holocaust. To the northeast of the cemetery is what is left of the old Jewish Ghetto. Nothing, really is left, but a massive memorial next to the construction site of a new Jewish Museum which promises to be open in 2011. Leaving the monument, one can follow the half-meter high black stones, each inscribed in Hebrew, several blocks north and a block over to the simple monument at the Umschlagplatz, where the Nazis used to load the Jews onto cattle cars for the one way trip to Auschwitz. It's a staggering and humbling site, one that nearly reduced me to tears upon reading the inscriptions. Perhaps not the best material for a vacation, but sites that everybody, everybody in the world, needs to see regardless.
In my mind, Warsaw invites inevitable comparisons to Saint Petersburg. Although Warsaw suffered worse, both cities suffered a devastation during the war that is difficult for Americans to imagine. Yet today, they are cities headed in seemingly opposite directions. Warsaw is a vibrant city of the future, a capital of the new Europe and a focal point of the European Union. Saint Petersburg has also progressed beyond the war and its communist days, but that progress seems far more deliberate, as the city (and indeed, all of Russia) seems somewhat trapped in its own past. Warsaw celebrates its past and honors its tragedy, but it nevertheless continues to stride forwards, embracing the future.
There has been a city of Warsaw for approximately 800 years, but the current Warsaw is by every definition a new city. Perhaps no country suffered as badly as Poland did during World War II, as it was abused by both the Nazis and the Soviets, and Warsaw is a perfect microcosm of this destruction. Warsaw was destroyed by the Germans four separate times: once at the outset of the war during the infamous invasion in 1939, once during the Jewish Ghetto Uprising in 1943, once during the Warsaw Uprising in 1944, and was leveled purely out of spite as the Red Army drew closer and closer to the city. Following the war Poland was firmly behind the Iron Curtain, its citizens subjected to 45 years of communist rule. After the fall of the Soviet Union, Poland was finally free, and Warsaw was able to be rebuilt the way her citizens wanted. The entrance of Poland to the European Union in 2004 has only accelerated the growth of this new, young city as money comes pouring into the nation. The EU has established two schools, two colleges of leadership to educate future leaders of the continent. One is in Brussels, just around the corner from the EU headquarters, and the other is in Warsaw. This gives a sense of where this city is heading.
Walking through Warsaw one gets the feeling of place that is slowly but steadily peeling off layers of communist grime. There are many of the same housing blocks that are found in Saint Petersburg and Moscow, but the ones in Poland look better maintained, cleaner, and in many cases, renovated. The streets don't have potholes, and gourmet coffee shops can be found on every corner. New, sleek skyscrapers are rising with remarkable rapidity, and the city has a new metro system that is being rapidly expanded. Comfortable buses and trams are everywhere, making transportation quick and easy, and the city has a general feeling of friendliness. The biggest reminder of communist rule is the city's tallest building, the massive Palace of Culture and Science. The building houses museums of natural history (the science) and movie theaters (the culture) as well as an observation deck. Built in the Stalinist-Gothic style, it was Stalin's "gift" to the residents of Warsaw, and in gratitude, the people now refer to it as "Stalin's penis." Apparently the Soviet secret police is no longer as fearsome as it used to be.
There are two distinct halves to Warsaw. There is the ultramodern business district, described above, and the painstakingly reconstructed Old Town. In the 1930s, the Old Town was one of the most happening places in Europe, but, as with the rest of the city, the Nazis reduced it to rubble. It has now been meticulously reconstructed, brick by brick, and is now a charming place, filled with people, its winding cobblestone streets lined with stores and restaurants. Everywhere are signs commemorating Frederic Chopin, the great Polish composer, who seems to be regarded as nothing less than a saint in his native country. Tourists amble about, but the area is mostly occupied by Poles, simply enjoying their lives for the first time in what must seem an eternity.
A visit to Warsaw is not complete without paying one's respects to the millions who died there at the hands of the Nazis (Jewish and others alike). The remarkable story of the tragic Warsaw Uprising is documented extensively at a brand new museum on the west side of the city, and is doubtlessly worth the price of admission. Nearby is the enormous Jewish Cemetery, which contains countless graves as well as some touching reminders of the Holocaust. To the northeast of the cemetery is what is left of the old Jewish Ghetto. Nothing, really is left, but a massive memorial next to the construction site of a new Jewish Museum which promises to be open in 2011. Leaving the monument, one can follow the half-meter high black stones, each inscribed in Hebrew, several blocks north and a block over to the simple monument at the Umschlagplatz, where the Nazis used to load the Jews onto cattle cars for the one way trip to Auschwitz. It's a staggering and humbling site, one that nearly reduced me to tears upon reading the inscriptions. Perhaps not the best material for a vacation, but sites that everybody, everybody in the world, needs to see regardless.
In my mind, Warsaw invites inevitable comparisons to Saint Petersburg. Although Warsaw suffered worse, both cities suffered a devastation during the war that is difficult for Americans to imagine. Yet today, they are cities headed in seemingly opposite directions. Warsaw is a vibrant city of the future, a capital of the new Europe and a focal point of the European Union. Saint Petersburg has also progressed beyond the war and its communist days, but that progress seems far more deliberate, as the city (and indeed, all of Russia) seems somewhat trapped in its own past. Warsaw celebrates its past and honors its tragedy, but it nevertheless continues to stride forwards, embracing the future.
Monday, November 15, 2010
Heart of Russia
Myself and my fellow CIEE students were granted a much needed week off this past week, and our vacation started with a group trip to Moscow, the historic Russian capital. We left Saint Petersburg on the midnight train to Moscow (there has to be a blues song in there somewhere) on Thursday night, arriving in Moscow early Wednesday morning. After a quick breakfast, it was off on a bus tour to explore the city.
I have come to know Saint Petersburg quite well in the past few months, and it is a fairly user-friendly city (user-friendly for Russia, anyways). Most of the action is concentrated in a fairly narrow strip of the city, and one can walk to and from most of the major landmarks in a reasonable amount of time. It does sprawl somewhat, but nevertheless remains a manageable city, one quickly learned and mastered.
Moscow is no Saint Petersburg. Moscow is defined by its sprawl. I am a New York native, yet Moscow felt far larger than any city I have ever been to before. Everything in Moscow is BIG. The metro system is enormous (and lavishly decorated), the roads are all about 8 lanes wide, and the population is north of 10 million. It is officially the largest city in continental Europe, and it certainly looks and feels the part.
Despite the vast scale of the city, it feels somewhat empty. To be sure, it covers an enormous area, but much of that seems to be empty space. Pedestrian friendly areas (aside from Red Square) are difficult-to-impossible to find, and after 48 hours in the city - admittedly a very short time - I still have no real sense of the place. To be sure it has its fair share of cultural attractions: the Tretyakov Gallery, the Pushkin Museum, Moscow State Historical Museum, Lenin's Tomb, St. Basil's, the Kremlin...the list goes on. But everything is spread out over such a huge distance that Moscow feels less like a city and more like a series of connected neighborhoods, somewhat like Los Angeles. Indeed Hollywood kept coming back into my mind as I toured the city. Everything in Moscow is a facade, meant to impress. Moscow is home to the largest cannon in the world (but it was too big to actually be fired) and the largest bell in the world (too big to mount and be rung). Glitzy cars and billboards are everywhere - there is a Ferrari and Maserati dealership just across the street from the Douma (Parliament) building.
To be sure, Red Square is an awesome sight. As with everything else in Moscow, it is enormous and thoroughly intimidating, especially when one considers the history of the place. Touring the Kremlin was also a special experience, but due to time constraints the weekend felt more like a blur than anything else. Getting to know Moscow, getting to really know Moscow, is something that would take considerable amounts of time. Unlike other cities, I'm not sure I would be willing to devote such time to it.
If you are going to Russia, go to Saint Petersburg.
I have come to know Saint Petersburg quite well in the past few months, and it is a fairly user-friendly city (user-friendly for Russia, anyways). Most of the action is concentrated in a fairly narrow strip of the city, and one can walk to and from most of the major landmarks in a reasonable amount of time. It does sprawl somewhat, but nevertheless remains a manageable city, one quickly learned and mastered.
Moscow is no Saint Petersburg. Moscow is defined by its sprawl. I am a New York native, yet Moscow felt far larger than any city I have ever been to before. Everything in Moscow is BIG. The metro system is enormous (and lavishly decorated), the roads are all about 8 lanes wide, and the population is north of 10 million. It is officially the largest city in continental Europe, and it certainly looks and feels the part.
Despite the vast scale of the city, it feels somewhat empty. To be sure, it covers an enormous area, but much of that seems to be empty space. Pedestrian friendly areas (aside from Red Square) are difficult-to-impossible to find, and after 48 hours in the city - admittedly a very short time - I still have no real sense of the place. To be sure it has its fair share of cultural attractions: the Tretyakov Gallery, the Pushkin Museum, Moscow State Historical Museum, Lenin's Tomb, St. Basil's, the Kremlin...the list goes on. But everything is spread out over such a huge distance that Moscow feels less like a city and more like a series of connected neighborhoods, somewhat like Los Angeles. Indeed Hollywood kept coming back into my mind as I toured the city. Everything in Moscow is a facade, meant to impress. Moscow is home to the largest cannon in the world (but it was too big to actually be fired) and the largest bell in the world (too big to mount and be rung). Glitzy cars and billboards are everywhere - there is a Ferrari and Maserati dealership just across the street from the Douma (Parliament) building.
To be sure, Red Square is an awesome sight. As with everything else in Moscow, it is enormous and thoroughly intimidating, especially when one considers the history of the place. Touring the Kremlin was also a special experience, but due to time constraints the weekend felt more like a blur than anything else. Getting to know Moscow, getting to really know Moscow, is something that would take considerable amounts of time. Unlike other cities, I'm not sure I would be willing to devote such time to it.
If you are going to Russia, go to Saint Petersburg.
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Amusing Encounter
Recently, when walking on Bolshoi Prospekt, the main avenue on Petrogradskaya (my home island), I was stopped by a middle-aged British tourist asking for directions. He didn't know any Russian, but he didn't know that I am an American - he merely assumed that I was any other Russian walking down the street. Proud that I had been mistaken as a Russian, I played along. Our conversation went something like this.
Him: "Hello there, can I ask you a question?"
Me (speaking in Russian): "Yes."
Him: "Wonderful! I'm looking for the nearest metro stop, do you know where it is?"
Me (continuing to speak in Russian and increasingly amused): "Yes."
Him: "Can you speak English?"
Me (replying first in Russian, then in English): "Of course (Russian)......of course (English)."
I went on to inform the gentleman as to how to get to Sportivnaya metro station, deliberately using simple words in an attempt not to show my true colors. Didn't work.
Him: "You speak very well...your accent..."
Me: "Thank you very much..." (and at this point trying my best not to crack up)
Him: "Are you from New York?"
He had me. I acknowledged that I was indeed from New York, and we spoke briefly about why we were respectively in Saint Petersburg. I wish now that I had asked for his name and email address so that I might send him the link for this blog. 20/20 hindsight is a bliss, but in lieu of having neglected to obtain his contact information, I'll have to settle for hoping he somehow stumbles across this website. Impressed as I might have been with myself for being mistaken for a Russian, I was even more impressed with him so quickly identifying me as from New York. For while I am from a New York suburb, I don't believe I speak with a truly distinct New York accent, but rather with a fairly stereotypical northeastern accent. Do I?
At any rate, Sir, whoever you are, I hope you enjoy your time in Saint Petersburg!
Him: "Hello there, can I ask you a question?"
Me (speaking in Russian): "Yes."
Him: "Wonderful! I'm looking for the nearest metro stop, do you know where it is?"
Me (continuing to speak in Russian and increasingly amused): "Yes."
Him: "Can you speak English?"
Me (replying first in Russian, then in English): "Of course (Russian)......of course (English)."
I went on to inform the gentleman as to how to get to Sportivnaya metro station, deliberately using simple words in an attempt not to show my true colors. Didn't work.
Him: "You speak very well...your accent..."
Me: "Thank you very much..." (and at this point trying my best not to crack up)
Him: "Are you from New York?"
He had me. I acknowledged that I was indeed from New York, and we spoke briefly about why we were respectively in Saint Petersburg. I wish now that I had asked for his name and email address so that I might send him the link for this blog. 20/20 hindsight is a bliss, but in lieu of having neglected to obtain his contact information, I'll have to settle for hoping he somehow stumbles across this website. Impressed as I might have been with myself for being mistaken for a Russian, I was even more impressed with him so quickly identifying me as from New York. For while I am from a New York suburb, I don't believe I speak with a truly distinct New York accent, but rather with a fairly stereotypical northeastern accent. Do I?
At any rate, Sir, whoever you are, I hope you enjoy your time in Saint Petersburg!
Saturday, October 30, 2010
48 Hours in Estonia
This past weekend was one of the three big trips that CIEE has planned for this semester, and may in fact be the most interesting of the three. The plan: leave Saint Petersburg on a bus early Friday morning and make for the Russian - Estonian border, and from there on to Tallinn, capital of Estonia, where we would spend two nights before returning to Saint Petersburg late on Sunday night.
Estonia has been under Russian/Soviet control for much of the past several hundred years. The country was one of the primary battlegrounds between Sweden and Russia during the Great Northern War for Baltic supremacy (Peter the Great's time), and was swallowed up by the Soviet Union leading up to World War II. As such, Estonia has only been independent for a short time. It is now a member of the European Union and is a progressive, rapidly modernizing nation that is a delightful mix of the old and the new.
Tallinn is not a big city. It covers an area that feels to be roughly the same size as White Plains, New York - though with a larger population (400,000). The skyline is nothing if not eclectic, with an intriguing mix of ancient church spires and modern skyscrapers. While Tallinn does possess a modest public transportation system, it's necessity - at least for tourists - seems lacking at best. The heart of the city can be crossed by foot in under fifteen minutes, and wide sidewalks, bright street lights, and friendly drivers make walking in Tallinn an attractive proposition.
Indeed, everything about Tallinn is friendly, which is especially jarring after several months in Russia. The Estonians, or at least the ones we interacted with, were all smiling and cheerful, happy to help in any way possible. Virtually everybody spoke English, and nearly every sign had English, Russian, Estonian, and often other languages as well. Not to imply the Russians are not a happy people, because that's just not true. The Russians are a wonderful people, but they can often seem aloof or cold in the initial encounter. Estonians are openly friendly, and this was like a breath of fresh air.
Tallinn's Old Town is the historical, cultural, and social heart of the city. It's a charming collection of cobblestone streets situated around a large central square. Closed to motorized vehicles, the Old Town has a storybook charm common in many European towns and cities. Although there's not a huge amount to do in Tallinn from a traditional tourist standpoint, it is the perfect place to turn a large number of 20-something year olds loose for a weekend. Bars and restaurants line the streets, many offering discounts. Hundreds of like-minded people can be found roaming the streets even at 2am, and the city - or at least Old Town - never feels unsafe. Although the weekend in Tallinn included tours of the historical heart and some of the points of interest outside the city center, the highlight of the weekend was undoubtedly simply enjoying the city's social life with a group of friends. At the end of our second and final night in Tallinn, we bought cups of hot, spiced wine from a street vendor and toasted the city and its people from an excellent vantage point overlooking Old Town.
Despite the marvelous time on the town, perhaps the most sticking part of the weekend was a line delivered by one of our Estonian tour guides. When asked what the average income was for an Estonian, she answered it was approximately $1,000 per month. She paused briefly, then continued: "No, it's not much money. Life can be tough sometimes, but that's okay, we are just happy to be independent, to be free."
Amen.
Estonia has been under Russian/Soviet control for much of the past several hundred years. The country was one of the primary battlegrounds between Sweden and Russia during the Great Northern War for Baltic supremacy (Peter the Great's time), and was swallowed up by the Soviet Union leading up to World War II. As such, Estonia has only been independent for a short time. It is now a member of the European Union and is a progressive, rapidly modernizing nation that is a delightful mix of the old and the new.
Tallinn is not a big city. It covers an area that feels to be roughly the same size as White Plains, New York - though with a larger population (400,000). The skyline is nothing if not eclectic, with an intriguing mix of ancient church spires and modern skyscrapers. While Tallinn does possess a modest public transportation system, it's necessity - at least for tourists - seems lacking at best. The heart of the city can be crossed by foot in under fifteen minutes, and wide sidewalks, bright street lights, and friendly drivers make walking in Tallinn an attractive proposition.
Indeed, everything about Tallinn is friendly, which is especially jarring after several months in Russia. The Estonians, or at least the ones we interacted with, were all smiling and cheerful, happy to help in any way possible. Virtually everybody spoke English, and nearly every sign had English, Russian, Estonian, and often other languages as well. Not to imply the Russians are not a happy people, because that's just not true. The Russians are a wonderful people, but they can often seem aloof or cold in the initial encounter. Estonians are openly friendly, and this was like a breath of fresh air.
Tallinn's Old Town is the historical, cultural, and social heart of the city. It's a charming collection of cobblestone streets situated around a large central square. Closed to motorized vehicles, the Old Town has a storybook charm common in many European towns and cities. Although there's not a huge amount to do in Tallinn from a traditional tourist standpoint, it is the perfect place to turn a large number of 20-something year olds loose for a weekend. Bars and restaurants line the streets, many offering discounts. Hundreds of like-minded people can be found roaming the streets even at 2am, and the city - or at least Old Town - never feels unsafe. Although the weekend in Tallinn included tours of the historical heart and some of the points of interest outside the city center, the highlight of the weekend was undoubtedly simply enjoying the city's social life with a group of friends. At the end of our second and final night in Tallinn, we bought cups of hot, spiced wine from a street vendor and toasted the city and its people from an excellent vantage point overlooking Old Town.
Despite the marvelous time on the town, perhaps the most sticking part of the weekend was a line delivered by one of our Estonian tour guides. When asked what the average income was for an Estonian, she answered it was approximately $1,000 per month. She paused briefly, then continued: "No, it's not much money. Life can be tough sometimes, but that's okay, we are just happy to be independent, to be free."
Amen.
Monday, October 18, 2010
Half-Mile Marker
It has been some time since my last post, and for this I apologize. My family visited me in Saint Petersburg last week, and the experience was undoubtedly one of the highlights of the semester so far - even if they monopolized my time and kept me from writing. Tut tut tut. But if you're reading - and I know you are - it was truly a pleasure to see you, and it's always wonderful to experience things through new eyes. I regret to say that having walked past the Winter Palace countless times it has started to blend in to the landscape a little bit. That all changes when with a first-time visitor to the city.
Today marks exactly two months before I board the plane to New York by way of Helsinki, and while I am actually slightly more than halfway through the program, this seemed like an appropriate time to reflect on the last two months.
Where to start? Any discussion of my time here has to begin and end with my host family, and they have simply been wonderful. Welcoming since Day 1, they have done nothing but make me feel like a member of the family. Elena, Andrei, and Nastia are simply some of the kindest people I have ever met - in any country. And to them I am truly grateful.
Russia itself remains something of a mystery to me. This should not be surprising, given how Russia herself doesn't really know how to define itself, and it has a 1,200 year head start on me. But I'll catch up. Maybe. As I've written before, Russians are cold and aloof on the street, yet warm, cheerful, and welcoming in their homes. The very same little old lady who berates you for the color of your shoes (yes, this has happened to me) can be seen just a few minutes later offering some candy to a child (I stuck around to watch - the candy was not poison, at least not the fast acting kind). Russians love their country, yet they know and understand its flaws. They want change, change for the better, but many are unwilling to sacrifice to achieve that change. It is a country, that I fear, could face significant upheaval in the years to come. The rich get richer and the poor get poorer, and the middle class shrinks everyday. Something will have to give sooner or later, especially as the generation born since the end of the Cold War matures and begins to take its place among the leaders of the nation. In 30 years, I would be shocked if Russia looks anything like it does today.
Saint Petersburg is as much a mystery as the country. Stunning vistas come naturally to the city, it's uniquely colored buildings giving the impression of a festive atmosphere. Saint Petersburg parties as hard as any city in the world, but the city largely shuts down after midnight, driving most of the parties indoors and out of sight. It's a city that wants very much to be like Paris or any number of other great European capitals, but as my brother stated, it feels closer to New York with it's long wide boulevards and spread out landmarks. The one-time playground of the Tsars is now home to fabulously expensive shopping and luxurious restaurants, but just a few minutes away beggars sit on the street holding their hands out for change. Of course this can be found in many cities, but in Saint Petersburg the difference seems even more jarring, perhaps due to the high standard of fashion many Russians adhere to.
This is not to make Saint Petersburg or Russia seem like bad places; on the contrary I have loved my time here (though not unequivocally). Saint Petersburg is a wonderful city to study in, full of culture, music, and places to have fun. It's a very student-friendly city, with a plethora of cheap restaurants, bars, and attractions. But, as with every other place in the world, it is not flawless.
Now, with two months left to go, I have made two lists: highlights of the first half, and things to look forward to in the second half.
First-half highlights:
1. Family visiting from New York
2. Пышка - these are small donuts sold in eponymous bars for 10 roubles a pop. Simply delectable.
3. Free/reduced admission to countless museums and attractions
4. Meeting many, many interesting people from across the United States - not to mention many Russians as well
5. Host family. See above.
6. Peterhof and the fountains
7. My father mentioning something about "a few DaVinci's hanging around this room somewhere" in the Hermitage, right after we passed through a room full of Rembrandts (preceded by a rooms full of Rubens' and Van Dycks)
8. Black bread
9. Borscht
10. Blini
Things to look forward to:
1. Upcoming trips to Tallinn (Estonia), Moscow, Warsaw, and Vienna
2. Russian hipster party (there will be future entries on this, I promise)
3. Snow
4. Plenty of live music
5. Possibility of seeing "The Nutcracker" in Russia
6. Wearing my new flat cap everyday
7. KHL games
8. More time with the host family
9. Seeing that guy in the bear suit on Nevsky everyday
10. More time with friends there is a very real chance I will never see again
11. Coming home to New York
Today marks exactly two months before I board the plane to New York by way of Helsinki, and while I am actually slightly more than halfway through the program, this seemed like an appropriate time to reflect on the last two months.
Where to start? Any discussion of my time here has to begin and end with my host family, and they have simply been wonderful. Welcoming since Day 1, they have done nothing but make me feel like a member of the family. Elena, Andrei, and Nastia are simply some of the kindest people I have ever met - in any country. And to them I am truly grateful.
Russia itself remains something of a mystery to me. This should not be surprising, given how Russia herself doesn't really know how to define itself, and it has a 1,200 year head start on me. But I'll catch up. Maybe. As I've written before, Russians are cold and aloof on the street, yet warm, cheerful, and welcoming in their homes. The very same little old lady who berates you for the color of your shoes (yes, this has happened to me) can be seen just a few minutes later offering some candy to a child (I stuck around to watch - the candy was not poison, at least not the fast acting kind). Russians love their country, yet they know and understand its flaws. They want change, change for the better, but many are unwilling to sacrifice to achieve that change. It is a country, that I fear, could face significant upheaval in the years to come. The rich get richer and the poor get poorer, and the middle class shrinks everyday. Something will have to give sooner or later, especially as the generation born since the end of the Cold War matures and begins to take its place among the leaders of the nation. In 30 years, I would be shocked if Russia looks anything like it does today.
Saint Petersburg is as much a mystery as the country. Stunning vistas come naturally to the city, it's uniquely colored buildings giving the impression of a festive atmosphere. Saint Petersburg parties as hard as any city in the world, but the city largely shuts down after midnight, driving most of the parties indoors and out of sight. It's a city that wants very much to be like Paris or any number of other great European capitals, but as my brother stated, it feels closer to New York with it's long wide boulevards and spread out landmarks. The one-time playground of the Tsars is now home to fabulously expensive shopping and luxurious restaurants, but just a few minutes away beggars sit on the street holding their hands out for change. Of course this can be found in many cities, but in Saint Petersburg the difference seems even more jarring, perhaps due to the high standard of fashion many Russians adhere to.
This is not to make Saint Petersburg or Russia seem like bad places; on the contrary I have loved my time here (though not unequivocally). Saint Petersburg is a wonderful city to study in, full of culture, music, and places to have fun. It's a very student-friendly city, with a plethora of cheap restaurants, bars, and attractions. But, as with every other place in the world, it is not flawless.
Now, with two months left to go, I have made two lists: highlights of the first half, and things to look forward to in the second half.
First-half highlights:
1. Family visiting from New York
2. Пышка - these are small donuts sold in eponymous bars for 10 roubles a pop. Simply delectable.
3. Free/reduced admission to countless museums and attractions
4. Meeting many, many interesting people from across the United States - not to mention many Russians as well
5. Host family. See above.
6. Peterhof and the fountains
7. My father mentioning something about "a few DaVinci's hanging around this room somewhere" in the Hermitage, right after we passed through a room full of Rembrandts (preceded by a rooms full of Rubens' and Van Dycks)
8. Black bread
9. Borscht
10. Blini
Things to look forward to:
1. Upcoming trips to Tallinn (Estonia), Moscow, Warsaw, and Vienna
2. Russian hipster party (there will be future entries on this, I promise)
3. Snow
4. Plenty of live music
5. Possibility of seeing "The Nutcracker" in Russia
6. Wearing my new flat cap everyday
7. KHL games
8. More time with the host family
9. Seeing that guy in the bear suit on Nevsky everyday
10. More time with friends there is a very real chance I will never see again
11. Coming home to New York
Monday, October 4, 2010
An Abundance of Green
Russia's environmental track record is anything but exemplary - indeed the horrific forest fires that threatened Moscow this summer and destroyed much of the buckwheat harvest (causing kasha prices to skyrocket) can be traced back to poor deforestation and environmental policies. Perhaps it is unavoidable for a country where the economy is built around energy, as Russia is unquestionably the largest producer and exporter of natural gas in the world, and ranks among the world's top three oil producers. Fossil fuels are not clean (clean coal is a myth), and preserving the environment and exploiting those valuable resources is a delicate act - as we in the United States well know. But this is not a political post (cue sigh of relief).
No, this is about the green spaces of Saint Petersburg. For when I arrived in this city, I was immediately struck by how green it was. Parks litter the landscape of the city, and many are quite sizable. Though the green is already starting to fade into a beautiful array of autumn colors and will soon give way to just the gray of the trees, the parks, the spaces themselves, will remain, and will remain as remarkable as ever.
Saint Petersburg boasts a large number of lovely parks and gardens, most of them beautifully landscaped and maintained. They are pleasant places to amble about, admiring the fall colors and enjoying the crisp autumnal air. Unfortunately, what my guidebook describes as Saint Petersburg's "loveliest" park, the Summer Gardens, is closed until at least 2012 for major reconstruction, denying myself and my fellow students to enjoy it while are here.
But no matter. To the north of Petrogradskaya, the island on which I live, is a delta of smaller islands which are still within city limits. The smallest of these is Yellagin Island, which in the absence of an accessible Summer Gardens, I will crown as the city's loveliest park. The park is accessible only by foot, bike, or in-like skates: it is off limits for motorized vehicles. It has an almost surreal quality to it, being an oasis of calm in the bustling metropolis. In New York's Central Park you can enjoy the lush green fields, the zoo, and the tennis courts but can still see the towers of midtown Manhattan towering over. Yellagin Island is much the same. Though Saint Petersburg lacks New York's high rise buildings, while wandering along the shady paths watching the ducklings paddle to and fro on the island's network of ponds and streams you can still hear the sirens, the wails, and the general soundtrack of the city.
One of the most striking parts of Saint Petersburg is the abundance of palaces. Seemingly every block has at least one palace, and while these run the gamut from the incomparable Winter Palace to relatively pedestrian looking buildings, a palace is still a palace, such buildings are inevitably impressive. Yellagin Island is indeed home to one of the cities' many palaces, a handsome, understated building admirable for its elegant simplicity that fits the island's relaxed atmosphere perfectly. It is not as flashy as many of it's counterparts in the city, but it's austere white exterior seems an ideal match for the lush fields and forests of the park.
The day which I visited Yellagin Island was a chilly one, with a fairly steady breeze pushing temperatures into the lower 40s. No matter. I was content to find a secluded park bench and finish my book (see below), sipping a glass of hot apple cider and listening to a group of musicians play a haunting version of "Yesterday."
Life is good.
(As for the book - Don DeLillo's White Noise - it is strongly recommended. DeLillo's prose manages the rarest of feats, being terrifying and hysterical at the same time. Not to mention the book has perhaps my favorite line in recent memory: "It's the rainbow hologram that gives this credit card a marketing intrigue." Don't ask me why I love this line, I can't explain it. I think it's an electric bit of writing in a book full of electric moments. An outstanding example of postmodern literature, it manages to be readable while retaining it's complexity. If you haven't read it, then do so. If you have read it, then...I don't know, try Gravity's Rainbow or something.)
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Только СКА, только пробедa!
For the uninitiated, the title of this post translates to "only SKA, only victory" (phonetically spelled "toy-ko SKA, toy-ko pro-bieda). This is the cheer chanted with great gusto by fans of Saint Petersburg's professional hockey team, СКА. СКА plays in the KHL, the Eastern European equivalent to the NHL.
Last week I went a СКА game with a number of friends. In full disclosure, this was my first professional hockey game. I have watched my fair share of college games, but I am not really a hockey fan, so if you want to know about the quality of Russian hockey versus North American hockey, I cannot help you. Suffice to say I was impressed with the athleticism of the players, and while I am a good skater myself, I cannot come close to what these guys do on the ice.
But enough about the hockey. I was more interested in the crowd. The game was played in the Ice Palace, a relatively young arena (finished in 1999) that comfortably seats about 13,000 fans, with nary a bad seat in the house. The stadium has all the amenities one would expect of a modern arena, including instant replay screens, ear-splitting surround sound, and reasonably comfortable seating. As with any stadium, what really gives this place its character is the fans.
I think it can be generally accepted that European fans, or perhaps sports fans across the world, are a bit more fanatical than American fans. We Americans love our sports, a fact backed up by the space age arenas opening across the country, by the eye-popping revenues of the NFL, by the completely absurd salaries earned by our athletes, and by the national obsession that is March Madness (while we are on the subject of American sports, could the NCAA please please please put in a tournament system for college football? Either that or dissolve Division I altogether. I'd be okay with either. See USC's current issues for why). But despite the violence inherent with America's most popular sport, football, American fans do not approach the level of rowdiness inherent in European sports matches. Sure, Fireman Ed may have shoved a drunk Giants fan out of the way during a pre-season game at the Meadowlands, but most fans just tailgate, cheer, boo, occasionally get tased for running on the field at a Phillies game, and go home without anything truly eventful happening.
Nothing truly eventful happened at this hockey game either, but it was a grudge match between Saint Petersburg and Moscow, and the Moscow fan section was surrounded by troops in riot gear. These troops were not needed; the fans were loud and energetic, but not unruly. I was impressed by the vigor with which they cheered; both the Saint Petersburg and Moscow fans had drums, cowbells, and other noisemakers, were waving flags, had coordinated chants and arm movements, and often looked more coordinated and better coached than the teams for which they were cheering. Nevertheless, the presence of so many armed troops probably helped to deter the Moscow fans from doing anything truly disruptive.
The soldiers themselves proved to be more of an annoyance than the Moscow fans, as they were sitting in some of the seats that my friends and I had purchased. Needless to say, asking a 200 pound soldier in body armor to get out of my seat didn't seem like the wisest course of action, and we engaged in a game of musical chairs in our section. We'd sit down, wait for the proper owners to come back and ask us to leave, then look for other empty seats. More of a nuisance than anything else, but still slightly aggravating.
But the game was still great fun, made all the more amusing by the fact most of the music played during the lulls in the game were American and British fight songs, music that is a staple at virtually every American sporting event. "We Will Rock You," "Welcome to the Jungle," "Walk this Way," and "Get Ready for This" were all heard throughout the game, and I think my friends and I impressed the Russians around us by singing in perfect English. If nothing else, hearing 12,000 fans screaming "we will, we will, ROCK YOU!!" in broken English with Russian accents was an experience in and of itself.
At the end of the day those dastardly Muscovites were sent home with a loss (final score: 3-2 Saint Petersburg), and we began to push our way out of the arena. The Moscow fans were not allowed to leave their seats until the rest of the stadium had emptied, confined to their section and surrounded by riot police, presumably to prevent any fights from breaking out in the atrium. I have no idea how long it took them to leave, but as a friend said, the last sight we had of them was in a circle of heavily armed and armored soldiers, and we never actually saw any of the Moscow fans actually leave the building...
You can draw your own conclusions.
Last week I went a СКА game with a number of friends. In full disclosure, this was my first professional hockey game. I have watched my fair share of college games, but I am not really a hockey fan, so if you want to know about the quality of Russian hockey versus North American hockey, I cannot help you. Suffice to say I was impressed with the athleticism of the players, and while I am a good skater myself, I cannot come close to what these guys do on the ice.
But enough about the hockey. I was more interested in the crowd. The game was played in the Ice Palace, a relatively young arena (finished in 1999) that comfortably seats about 13,000 fans, with nary a bad seat in the house. The stadium has all the amenities one would expect of a modern arena, including instant replay screens, ear-splitting surround sound, and reasonably comfortable seating. As with any stadium, what really gives this place its character is the fans.
I think it can be generally accepted that European fans, or perhaps sports fans across the world, are a bit more fanatical than American fans. We Americans love our sports, a fact backed up by the space age arenas opening across the country, by the eye-popping revenues of the NFL, by the completely absurd salaries earned by our athletes, and by the national obsession that is March Madness (while we are on the subject of American sports, could the NCAA please please please put in a tournament system for college football? Either that or dissolve Division I altogether. I'd be okay with either. See USC's current issues for why). But despite the violence inherent with America's most popular sport, football, American fans do not approach the level of rowdiness inherent in European sports matches. Sure, Fireman Ed may have shoved a drunk Giants fan out of the way during a pre-season game at the Meadowlands, but most fans just tailgate, cheer, boo, occasionally get tased for running on the field at a Phillies game, and go home without anything truly eventful happening.
Nothing truly eventful happened at this hockey game either, but it was a grudge match between Saint Petersburg and Moscow, and the Moscow fan section was surrounded by troops in riot gear. These troops were not needed; the fans were loud and energetic, but not unruly. I was impressed by the vigor with which they cheered; both the Saint Petersburg and Moscow fans had drums, cowbells, and other noisemakers, were waving flags, had coordinated chants and arm movements, and often looked more coordinated and better coached than the teams for which they were cheering. Nevertheless, the presence of so many armed troops probably helped to deter the Moscow fans from doing anything truly disruptive.
The soldiers themselves proved to be more of an annoyance than the Moscow fans, as they were sitting in some of the seats that my friends and I had purchased. Needless to say, asking a 200 pound soldier in body armor to get out of my seat didn't seem like the wisest course of action, and we engaged in a game of musical chairs in our section. We'd sit down, wait for the proper owners to come back and ask us to leave, then look for other empty seats. More of a nuisance than anything else, but still slightly aggravating.
But the game was still great fun, made all the more amusing by the fact most of the music played during the lulls in the game were American and British fight songs, music that is a staple at virtually every American sporting event. "We Will Rock You," "Welcome to the Jungle," "Walk this Way," and "Get Ready for This" were all heard throughout the game, and I think my friends and I impressed the Russians around us by singing in perfect English. If nothing else, hearing 12,000 fans screaming "we will, we will, ROCK YOU!!" in broken English with Russian accents was an experience in and of itself.
At the end of the day those dastardly Muscovites were sent home with a loss (final score: 3-2 Saint Petersburg), and we began to push our way out of the arena. The Moscow fans were not allowed to leave their seats until the rest of the stadium had emptied, confined to their section and surrounded by riot police, presumably to prevent any fights from breaking out in the atrium. I have no idea how long it took them to leave, but as a friend said, the last sight we had of them was in a circle of heavily armed and armored soldiers, and we never actually saw any of the Moscow fans actually leave the building...
You can draw your own conclusions.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Hidden Treasures
When one visits a new city, they are often and inexorably drawn to the largest and most well known attractions. First-timers will visit the Louvre in Paris, Times Square in New York, and the Hermitage in Saint Petersburg. Sooner or later though, these options are exhausted and visitors look for the hidden treasures in the cities with which to occupy their time and interest.
Faced with a totally free day and blessed with gorgeous weather, I decided to seek out one of Saint Petersburg's many hidden treasures. True, the Chesme Church is not particularly obscure; it can be found on the cover of many guidebooks to the city and is also on many of the tourism ads visible on the escalators down to the metro system. Having been teased with pictures of it for a month now, I was determined to go see the building for myself. But for all of it's promotion by the city tourism bureau, it is somewhat difficult to find.
The Chesme Church is located far from the city center, off the southern half of Moscovsky Prospekt. The closest metro station is Moscovskaya, which is roughly a 15 minute ride from Nevsky Prospekt. This may not sound terribly long, but metro rides here typically last only a few minutes, given how most of the stations are quite far apart. This district of the city was designated by Stalin to be the "new" Leningrad, a plan that ultimately flopped. The only evidence of this project is the massive House of the Soviets, a Stalinist building surrounded by a seemingly endless array of fountains and guarded by an enormous statue of Lenin. The rest of the area is now a pleasant, if sleepy collection of residential streets lined with streets and courtyard apartment complexes. A pleasant place to live, to be sure, but certainly not a bastion of communist activity. We can blame the obscure location of the church on Catherine the Great. She was standing on the very spot the church now stands when she was informed of the victory of the Russian forces at the Battle of the Chesme Bay in the Russo-Turkish War of 1768-1774, and she promptly ordered the church built right there.
Walk northeast from the House of Soviets for about 15 minutes and you will eventually encounter the Chesme Church. It is a small building, probably about the same size as many small town American churches (for those of you from Bedford, think Saint Patrick's. And for those of you not from Bedford, I do not mean the Saint Patrick's on 5th. Much, much smaller than that). The building sits in a rather unremarkable and quite frankly, unattractive dirt lot, but the building itself is anything but unremarkable. It's red and white striped facade reminds one of a candy cane; indeed, the church appears to be more like a ginger bread house than an actual physical creation.
But real it is. Approach the church slowly to best appreciate it's remarkable architecture, to better take in the unique geometry and colors of the building - unique in a city awash with many different colors. It remains a working church to this day, so if you enter, do so respectfully and quietly. Most visitors probably won't ever see the Chesme Church, but those who do take the time to find it will be richly rewarded. It's a building that can be admired for some time, and one that I hope to return to once snow covers the ground. Beautiful though it may be in a dirt lot, I imagine it is nothing short of spectacular when surrounded by a fresh coat of powdery snow.
Monday, September 20, 2010
Culture Clash
Living in a foreign country, especially one with a different language, presents many challenges. Some challenges are fairly simple, as in "how do I order what I want in a restaurant?" Such challenges can be resolved with the help of a pocket dictionary and copious amounts of sign language. Other challenges are more a matter of differing mindsets, a dispute over concepts that one culture may hold dear that another cannot even conceive.
As with any language, there are words in English that do not translate literally into Russian; in fact there are probably many more, I simply have yet to discover them. Here are but a few examples:
Sorry: Probably the most notorious and amusing of these, "sorry" has no direct translation into Russian. The Russian language simply does not have a word with which one can apologize - at least not in the manner with which Americans are accustomed. There is a word for "excuse me" (извините), but it also seems to be somewhat inadequate. "Excuse me, I just accidentally knocked your book off the table," or "excuse me, I just hit you with my car" (not that I've actually run anybody over. Side note on Saint Petersburg traffic: it's insane. Russian drivers pilot their vehicles with equal levels of enthusiasm and incompetence, and think nothing of plowing full speed ahead when a pedestrian is in their way. Whereas in the United States vehicles MUST yield to pedestrians in crosswalks, drivers in Russia regard pedestrians the same way you would an insect on your windshield).
Privacy: The word does not translate into Russian, and in fact the entire concept of privacy does not exist in the Russian culture. This is really not all that surprising considering the character of historical Russian governments, but it is still a bit jarring. Americans hold their privacy dear, and are deeply offended if somebody reads their diaries, or asks them an intimate personal question. The latter is normal here; Russians are quite frank and often talk far more openly about themselves than Americans do, not holding many, if any secrets back. People talk openly about themselves, about their problems, and about their relationships, and fully expect you to let them into your life as well.
Efficiency: This one's a bit strange, considering that one would think of a country that was once based on communist principles to pride itself on efficiency, but the opposite is true. An example: the metro station that I use to get to and from class has six doors for passengers to enter (and six separate doors for exit). In the afternoons, during my commute home, only one of the six doors is opened with roughly 300 people trying to squeeze through it. The other five doors are inexplicably locked. Not fire-locked, as in you can push them open from the inside, but locked with deadbolts. The first time I saw the mob outside the building I stared at it in disbelief for a few seconds before plunging in; the only way to get to the door is to just let yourself go limp and be carried with the crowd into the building (when in doubt about anything in Russia, just let yourself go limp. That goes emotionally as well as physically). Despite the absurdity of the situation there is never a whisper of complaint from the crowd. People just accept the fact that there is only one door and move on from there. If a similar situation were to happen in New York, the MTA would receive approximately 40 million phone calls (though there's a decent chance 95% would be from the same three people), congressmen would get involved, Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert would host the "Rally in the Doorway" and many ulcers would burst. Russians just go with the flow, efficiency be damned.
Challenge: Challenges are very much at the root of the American mindset. From birth we are challenged to be the best we can be, challenged to do better, challenged to challenge authority, challenged to challenge others to challenges. Americans are taught never to be content with the status-quo, but to constantly strive to improve ourselves, our own lives, and most importantly, the lives of our children. These motives exist in Russia, but the concept of a "challenge" does not. My host parents recently spent two weeks in Portugal, a country in which I vacationed several years ago. I described it to my host mother as a lovely place, but "gravitationally challenged (i.e. lots and lots of hills). My host mother, who speaks excellent English, simply did not understand. She understood the "gravitational" part of the sentence, but "challenge" was literally lost in translation.
Have fun: Sorry, no long, world class analysis of this one. I just really hope "The Princess Bride" with Russian dubbing is on TV at some point while I am here because I am eager to hear how they translate Billy Crystal's line as Miracle Max: "Have fun storming the castle, kids!"
There are many ways in wish American and Russian culture clash, and I will write more about this in the months to come. In the meantime, I won't bother apologizing to someone if I violate their privacy.
As with any language, there are words in English that do not translate literally into Russian; in fact there are probably many more, I simply have yet to discover them. Here are but a few examples:
Sorry: Probably the most notorious and amusing of these, "sorry" has no direct translation into Russian. The Russian language simply does not have a word with which one can apologize - at least not in the manner with which Americans are accustomed. There is a word for "excuse me" (извините), but it also seems to be somewhat inadequate. "Excuse me, I just accidentally knocked your book off the table," or "excuse me, I just hit you with my car" (not that I've actually run anybody over. Side note on Saint Petersburg traffic: it's insane. Russian drivers pilot their vehicles with equal levels of enthusiasm and incompetence, and think nothing of plowing full speed ahead when a pedestrian is in their way. Whereas in the United States vehicles MUST yield to pedestrians in crosswalks, drivers in Russia regard pedestrians the same way you would an insect on your windshield).
Privacy: The word does not translate into Russian, and in fact the entire concept of privacy does not exist in the Russian culture. This is really not all that surprising considering the character of historical Russian governments, but it is still a bit jarring. Americans hold their privacy dear, and are deeply offended if somebody reads their diaries, or asks them an intimate personal question. The latter is normal here; Russians are quite frank and often talk far more openly about themselves than Americans do, not holding many, if any secrets back. People talk openly about themselves, about their problems, and about their relationships, and fully expect you to let them into your life as well.
Efficiency: This one's a bit strange, considering that one would think of a country that was once based on communist principles to pride itself on efficiency, but the opposite is true. An example: the metro station that I use to get to and from class has six doors for passengers to enter (and six separate doors for exit). In the afternoons, during my commute home, only one of the six doors is opened with roughly 300 people trying to squeeze through it. The other five doors are inexplicably locked. Not fire-locked, as in you can push them open from the inside, but locked with deadbolts. The first time I saw the mob outside the building I stared at it in disbelief for a few seconds before plunging in; the only way to get to the door is to just let yourself go limp and be carried with the crowd into the building (when in doubt about anything in Russia, just let yourself go limp. That goes emotionally as well as physically). Despite the absurdity of the situation there is never a whisper of complaint from the crowd. People just accept the fact that there is only one door and move on from there. If a similar situation were to happen in New York, the MTA would receive approximately 40 million phone calls (though there's a decent chance 95% would be from the same three people), congressmen would get involved, Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert would host the "Rally in the Doorway" and many ulcers would burst. Russians just go with the flow, efficiency be damned.
Challenge: Challenges are very much at the root of the American mindset. From birth we are challenged to be the best we can be, challenged to do better, challenged to challenge authority, challenged to challenge others to challenges. Americans are taught never to be content with the status-quo, but to constantly strive to improve ourselves, our own lives, and most importantly, the lives of our children. These motives exist in Russia, but the concept of a "challenge" does not. My host parents recently spent two weeks in Portugal, a country in which I vacationed several years ago. I described it to my host mother as a lovely place, but "gravitationally challenged (i.e. lots and lots of hills). My host mother, who speaks excellent English, simply did not understand. She understood the "gravitational" part of the sentence, but "challenge" was literally lost in translation.
Have fun: Sorry, no long, world class analysis of this one. I just really hope "The Princess Bride" with Russian dubbing is on TV at some point while I am here because I am eager to hear how they translate Billy Crystal's line as Miracle Max: "Have fun storming the castle, kids!"
There are many ways in wish American and Russian culture clash, and I will write more about this in the months to come. In the meantime, I won't bother apologizing to someone if I violate their privacy.
Monday, September 13, 2010
Novgorod
The CIEE in St. Petersburg program features many day trips, and three major overnight excursions from our base of (who woulda guessed?) Saint Petersburg. The first of these was this past weekend to the historic Russian city of Novgorod the Great.
The 72 CIEE students, along with two staff members, met in front of the Kazan Cathedral just before 8am on Saturday morning and boarded a double decker coach bus for the 3-4 hour drive. A movie was shown, though unfortunately I do not remember the name. At any rate, I slept through most of the film, and the few parts I did see reminded me of "Moulin Rouge." But I digress.
Some history: Nobody is entirely sure how old Novgorod is, but most estimates place it's age at about 1,200 years. Novgorod straddles the Volkhov River and due to this location, it was an important trading post for nearly a thousand years, relinquishing it's title as Russia's main port when Saint Petersburg was founded on the Gulf of Finland in 1703. During the first several hundred years of its life, Novgorod was ruled by princes, the most famous of which is probably Yaroslave the Wise, who is credited with creating Russia's (then known as Rus) first legal code (roughly akin to Hammurabi's Code or Justinian's Code). In the 1100s, the council of elders and nobles in Novogorod dismissed the ruling prince, and it is at this time that the Novgorod Republic was born. From this point on, Novgorod was ruled in a manner similar to the ancient Greek city-states, but the office of the prince was never dismissed. During the 1200s, Alexander Nevsky was Prince of Novgorod, and is revered by Russians for defeating the Catholic invaders (mainly Germans) attempting to convert Russia to Catholicism as well as staving off the Golden Horde, preserving Novgorod's future. Nevsky is credited with saving the Eastern Orthodox Church, and has since been canonized by the institution that he saved.
Novgorod was one of the few places in Eastern Europe that did not fall to the Mongols, and it ensured it's survival by collaborating with them. Novgorod collected tribute for the Khans, and eventually usurped much of the Mongol territory, solidifying it's position as a true power player in Europe. Novgorod continued to prosper to the point where it ranked alongside London and Paris in the 17th century as one of the wealthiest and most cosmopolitan cities in Europe. After the founding of Saint Petersburg, Novgorod began to fade from relevance.
Sadly, much of the original city was destroyed by the Nazis during the Second World War, with the postwar authorities electing to restore the historical sites, but build a new city around them. As such, Novgorod is an intriguing mix of a modern, grid-like city with ancient churches and monuments scattered throughout.
And Novgorod is indeed a city of churches: there are onion domes visible from any vantage point within the city, and there are often multiple churches within a small plot of land. Most of these churches are quite small, and served very specific congregations. The largest of the churches (Saint Sophia) is within the Novgorod Kremlin, and has the same whitewashed exterior and golden onion domes as the others, but the interior is far more impressive. Unfortunately, photography is forbidden inside the structure, so the incredible imagery of my writing will have to suffice.
The interior is dark, lit by the muted light coming through the small windows and the soft glow of candles. It is a somewhat claustrophobic space, the arrangement of the pillars giving the church an almost maze-like quality. The walls glisten with mosaics and frescoes of religious icons. Scarcely an inch is left uncovered by artwork, but the artwork almost seems to blend into the masonry of the building. It is ornate, but not extravagant, elegant without being flashy. It is not particularly overwhelming like the Baroque churches so common in the rest of Europe, but rather quietly impressing. Saint Sophia reminds of the quiet, unassuming kid on the practice field who prefers to let others do the trash talking, yet when push comes to shove, he carries his team. It is a truly beautiful place, humbling its visitors with its age and simple elegance.
On our second day and final day in Novgorod, we visited an open air museum of wooden architecture. The museum consists of about twenty buildings arranged in an approximation of what an ancient Russian town would have looked like. The woodwork on these buildings is astonishing, with the shingles on the trademark onion domes particularly striking.
I took over 200 pictures in Novgorod, and invite you to look at them at the link below. It was an excellent trip, and I only wish that the weather had been more cooperative (it rained all day Saturday). The next major excursions are to Tallinn and Moscow, and I can't wait for either one.
Monday, September 6, 2010
Republicans: Beware of Obama
As the title suggests, this entry will be a bit different from the ones before it; it will focus not on Russia, but on my home country, the United States. For those of you who do not know me, I am a government major at Colby College, and am particularly interested in domestic policy.
My favorite president is, without question, Abraham Lincoln. His genius was equaled only by his own skill with a pen, the eloquence of his writing flowing from what is perhaps the most enigmatic personality of any president our nation has ever had. Lincoln's writings are pure poetry, and are oft-quoted (I will not bore you by quoting him here - that said, I do encourage everybody, American or not, to read The Portable Abraham Lincoln, a collection of his letters and speeches).
Following Lincoln, I have a soft spot for Lyndon Johnson. There is no question that the Vietnam War was a tragedy in every sense of the word. 58,000 American troops lost their lives fighting for something completely intangible, completely incomprehensible. Lets not forget that upwards of 4,000,000 Vietnamese civilians on both sides were killed in the conflict - this war was twenty years of bloodshed, and the deaths of those people is no less tragic and unnecessary than those of the American soldiers. Much of this blood is on Johnson's hands, and for that his legacy will forever be blemished.
But to dismiss Johnson is to dismiss one of the greatest legislators in American history. Never before have we had such a consummate politician in the Oval Office (please, Jed Bartlett doesn't count). Johnson pushed the broadest legislative package the country had seen since the New Deal through Congress during the momentous years of 1964-1965 - a period aptly dubbed by one of my professors as the "liberal hour." Medicaid, Medicare, Clean Water Act, Clean Air Act, Voting Rights Act, and perhaps the most important of all, the Civil Rights Act, all were signed into law, forever changing the nation. Johnson did more than perhaps any president, other than FDR, to improve the quality of life in the nation. We have yet to have another president quite like LBJ.
Or have we? Barack Obama has been in office for less than two full years. Considerably less actually - he was sworn in on January 20th, 2009, and today is September 9th, 2010. Let's take at the major legislation written while Obama has been president.
1. The American Recovery and Reinvestment Act of 2009 - a $787 billion package aimed to help the nation recover from a crippling recession. Whether or not passing it was the right thing or not is not even a question. The question should be whether or not $787 billion was enough. I think not, but that Congress refused to give Obama the sum he initially wanted.
2. The Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act of 2010 - a comprehensive reform of the nation's broken healthcare system. Under the bill, all Americans will be required by law to have health insurance and will receive added protection from HMOs. Additionally, the it is believed the bill will eventually have a positive impact on the federal deficit, lowering it by as much as $143 billion in the first 10 years.
3. The Dodd-Frank Wall Street Reform and Consumer Protection Act - a sweeping reform of the American banking industry, it totally changes the face of American finance. The government now has a much bigger role in the private sector and is granted greater regulatory powers in an attempt to prevent another sub-prime mortgage crisis (or similar type of disaster)
This is tremendous. Three major bills with enormous implications passed in just about a year is incredible. Obama's legislative output already equals that of many other presidents, despite his relatively young presidency. And today, Obama announced a plan to put $50 billion into the roads, bridges, tunnels, and airports of the nation. My initial reaction is that this is not enough money.
Anybody driving in America can tell that the roads have decayed. The interstate system was the crown jewel of the Eisenhower years, and it is now sadly outdated. It is quite simply incapable of handling the modern traffic loads, as bridges, tunnels, and even flat, straight freeways become parking lots during rush hour. For a country that prides itself on mobility, this is unacceptable.
The last several years have seen a number of bridges simply fail. The bridges of the nation are old and neglected, and many need to be replaced outright (see the Tappan-Zee Bridge close to my home). Airports are also old, especially when compared to many of the new ones being built around the world. American infrastructure is dying, and it needs a jump-start.
Obama's bill just might be that jump-start. It is too soon to tell whether or not Congress will approve it. If they do I truly believe this might be the most important bill of the Obama presidency. The economic, social, and cultural impact of a nation's infrastructure cannot be understated.
Should the bill pass, or even if it doesn't, Republicans need to beware of Barack Obama. They should be scared of him. Despite their best efforts to oppose him, despite him being president in an era when party discipline has no meaning, despite him presiding over the most intensely partisan period in memory, Obama has been remarkable successful in pushing his agenda. He has demonstrated a political savvy that few thought he possessed, and shown that he is worthy of office that he inhabits. America elected the right man. Now it's time to let him do the job we all know he is capable of doing.
My favorite president is, without question, Abraham Lincoln. His genius was equaled only by his own skill with a pen, the eloquence of his writing flowing from what is perhaps the most enigmatic personality of any president our nation has ever had. Lincoln's writings are pure poetry, and are oft-quoted (I will not bore you by quoting him here - that said, I do encourage everybody, American or not, to read The Portable Abraham Lincoln, a collection of his letters and speeches).
Following Lincoln, I have a soft spot for Lyndon Johnson. There is no question that the Vietnam War was a tragedy in every sense of the word. 58,000 American troops lost their lives fighting for something completely intangible, completely incomprehensible. Lets not forget that upwards of 4,000,000 Vietnamese civilians on both sides were killed in the conflict - this war was twenty years of bloodshed, and the deaths of those people is no less tragic and unnecessary than those of the American soldiers. Much of this blood is on Johnson's hands, and for that his legacy will forever be blemished.
But to dismiss Johnson is to dismiss one of the greatest legislators in American history. Never before have we had such a consummate politician in the Oval Office (please, Jed Bartlett doesn't count). Johnson pushed the broadest legislative package the country had seen since the New Deal through Congress during the momentous years of 1964-1965 - a period aptly dubbed by one of my professors as the "liberal hour." Medicaid, Medicare, Clean Water Act, Clean Air Act, Voting Rights Act, and perhaps the most important of all, the Civil Rights Act, all were signed into law, forever changing the nation. Johnson did more than perhaps any president, other than FDR, to improve the quality of life in the nation. We have yet to have another president quite like LBJ.
Or have we? Barack Obama has been in office for less than two full years. Considerably less actually - he was sworn in on January 20th, 2009, and today is September 9th, 2010. Let's take at the major legislation written while Obama has been president.
1. The American Recovery and Reinvestment Act of 2009 - a $787 billion package aimed to help the nation recover from a crippling recession. Whether or not passing it was the right thing or not is not even a question. The question should be whether or not $787 billion was enough. I think not, but that Congress refused to give Obama the sum he initially wanted.
2. The Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act of 2010 - a comprehensive reform of the nation's broken healthcare system. Under the bill, all Americans will be required by law to have health insurance and will receive added protection from HMOs. Additionally, the it is believed the bill will eventually have a positive impact on the federal deficit, lowering it by as much as $143 billion in the first 10 years.
3. The Dodd-Frank Wall Street Reform and Consumer Protection Act - a sweeping reform of the American banking industry, it totally changes the face of American finance. The government now has a much bigger role in the private sector and is granted greater regulatory powers in an attempt to prevent another sub-prime mortgage crisis (or similar type of disaster)
This is tremendous. Three major bills with enormous implications passed in just about a year is incredible. Obama's legislative output already equals that of many other presidents, despite his relatively young presidency. And today, Obama announced a plan to put $50 billion into the roads, bridges, tunnels, and airports of the nation. My initial reaction is that this is not enough money.
Anybody driving in America can tell that the roads have decayed. The interstate system was the crown jewel of the Eisenhower years, and it is now sadly outdated. It is quite simply incapable of handling the modern traffic loads, as bridges, tunnels, and even flat, straight freeways become parking lots during rush hour. For a country that prides itself on mobility, this is unacceptable.
The last several years have seen a number of bridges simply fail. The bridges of the nation are old and neglected, and many need to be replaced outright (see the Tappan-Zee Bridge close to my home). Airports are also old, especially when compared to many of the new ones being built around the world. American infrastructure is dying, and it needs a jump-start.
Obama's bill just might be that jump-start. It is too soon to tell whether or not Congress will approve it. If they do I truly believe this might be the most important bill of the Obama presidency. The economic, social, and cultural impact of a nation's infrastructure cannot be understated.
Should the bill pass, or even if it doesn't, Republicans need to beware of Barack Obama. They should be scared of him. Despite their best efforts to oppose him, despite him being president in an era when party discipline has no meaning, despite him presiding over the most intensely partisan period in memory, Obama has been remarkable successful in pushing his agenda. He has demonstrated a political savvy that few thought he possessed, and shown that he is worthy of office that he inhabits. America elected the right man. Now it's time to let him do the job we all know he is capable of doing.
Saturday, September 4, 2010
Holidays That Truly Matter
So last night, after dinner, I had a long conversation with my wonderful host parents about Russian holidays and American holidays. The New Year is the biggest holiday of the year here, with celebrations lasting a full week - though I must admit I don't believe they drop a ball on the Peter & Paul Fortress. Can't win everything.
It was when the discussion turned to American holidays that the discussion became truly interesting. Elena and Andrey wanted to know what was the biggest American holiday. Christmas naturally comes to mind, but I decided that Thanksgiving was the biggest American holiday - underlining the "American" in the question. Massive meals, family reunions quickly evolving (or devolving?) into family feuds, worst travel day of the year, 300 pound men slamming into other 300 pound men on national television, all of it followed by the single biggest shopping day anywhere in the world. What could be more American than that?
Despite its flaws (real or invented by me), Thanksgiving is truly an important holiday, one that virtually all Americans cherish. This was not enough for my host parents - they wanted to know about more American holidays, especially the one involving a small, furry animal.
I want to make it clear that my Russian is mediocre at best, so this was a difficult conversation. My host father managed to rephrase his question into words I understood, words I will quote here (as best I can): "The day with the small creature beneath the ground who sees himself and then there's a longer winter."
Of course, this could only be Groundhog Day. Except for those poor souls who actually deal with Punxsutawney Phil on a regular basis, I would like to believe that most Americans realize that this is quite simply a foolish holiday. However, you do not realize just how foolish, how stupid, how utterly absurd it actually is until you try to explain it in another language. It was then I realized I can barely explain it in English, let alone in Russian, and that the entire thing is completely ridiculous.
About the only good thing to come out Groundhog Day is the excellent film, which remains a favorite of mine. If nothing else, the movie taught me that a "sweet vermouth on the rocks with a twist" is apparently an awful drink. All the holiday has taught me is something I already know: learning a foreign language is a constant struggle, but an amusing one, one accompanied by laughs and later by fond memories. As for Punxsutawney Phil? I hope on Groundhog Day in 2011 that he decides to do everybody a favor and just run like hell when the door to his burrow is opened.
It was when the discussion turned to American holidays that the discussion became truly interesting. Elena and Andrey wanted to know what was the biggest American holiday. Christmas naturally comes to mind, but I decided that Thanksgiving was the biggest American holiday - underlining the "American" in the question. Massive meals, family reunions quickly evolving (or devolving?) into family feuds, worst travel day of the year, 300 pound men slamming into other 300 pound men on national television, all of it followed by the single biggest shopping day anywhere in the world. What could be more American than that?
Despite its flaws (real or invented by me), Thanksgiving is truly an important holiday, one that virtually all Americans cherish. This was not enough for my host parents - they wanted to know about more American holidays, especially the one involving a small, furry animal.
I want to make it clear that my Russian is mediocre at best, so this was a difficult conversation. My host father managed to rephrase his question into words I understood, words I will quote here (as best I can): "The day with the small creature beneath the ground who sees himself and then there's a longer winter."
Of course, this could only be Groundhog Day. Except for those poor souls who actually deal with Punxsutawney Phil on a regular basis, I would like to believe that most Americans realize that this is quite simply a foolish holiday. However, you do not realize just how foolish, how stupid, how utterly absurd it actually is until you try to explain it in another language. It was then I realized I can barely explain it in English, let alone in Russian, and that the entire thing is completely ridiculous.
About the only good thing to come out Groundhog Day is the excellent film, which remains a favorite of mine. If nothing else, the movie taught me that a "sweet vermouth on the rocks with a twist" is apparently an awful drink. All the holiday has taught me is something I already know: learning a foreign language is a constant struggle, but an amusing one, one accompanied by laughs and later by fond memories. As for Punxsutawney Phil? I hope on Groundhog Day in 2011 that he decides to do everybody a favor and just run like hell when the door to his burrow is opened.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Getting Around
I must admit it, but I have been spoiled. Over the summer I became accustomed to using the New York Subway, which must be one of the most efficient transportation networks ever devised. For those of you who are not from New York (don't be afraid, we don't bite...usually), the city boasts a huge number of stations (400-500) and two dozen lines. There are local trains, express trains, and shuttle trains. Stops are located every few blocks, and trains generally every few minutes. Despite it's complexity, it is an easy system to navigate, and carries staggering numbers of passengers daily, while offering service 24/7. The last bit is something New Yorkers take for granted, and is what I believe to be one of the main reasons that New York is such a late city. The only true complaints with the network is the price ($2.25 for a one-way trip) and the industrial, grungy look of the stations and trains.
The New York City Subway has little in common with the Saint Petersburg Metro. The metro here is small; it comprises of only 5 lines, with only a few dozen stations, and few stations offer transfer. It has me grinding my teeth with the inefficiency of the layout - whole sections of the city are inaccessible by metro.
Much of this is forgiven when you enter a station. Unlike in New York where the stations are little more than holes in the ground with a few flights of stairs for entrance and egress, the vast majority here have large vestibules on the surface. You enter, buy your token (22 roubles at time of writing - about $.70), proceed through the turnstile and step onto the escalator. There are no stairs, and you honestly wouldn't want them as the Petersburg Metro is the deepest in the world, and it often takes 3-4 minutes on the escalator to reach the platform. Kindly stand to the right to let faster descender/ascenders pass by on the left. Having tried to walk down the escalators I don't recommend it; the length of the descent combined with the fact you are on a moving staircase makes the experience a vertigo-inducing one. One classmate of mine even likened the escalator ride to "descending to the Underworld to meet Hades." When you (finally) reach the platform, you are greeted not by the River Styx and Charon, but by a sight that is more reminiscent of the Louvre than any home of the dead (take your pick). High ceilings supported by elegantly sculpted columns trimmed with gold are the rule rather than the exception. Despite being over a hundred meters below the surface, the stations feel light and spacious if not quite airy.
The trains run fast and come often. Despite often arriving at the platform as a train is pulling out, I have yet to wait more than 2 or 3 minutes for the next one. During rush hour the trains are every bit as packed as their New York counterparts, especially around the stations at the center of the city. No matter - you probably are only riding for a few minutes. After all, there aren't very many stops. The last trains leave the end stations at midnight, and after 12:15 you could very well be out of luck taking the metro home (hellooooooo gypsy cabs!).
Unfortunately, taking pictures in the stations is prohibited, and even if you are willing to ignore the statute, exposing yourself needlessly to pickpockets on the busy platforms is not a wise move. As such, I cannot provide my own photos for your viewing pleasure, but you will have to make do with ones I borrowed from Wikipedia.
The New York City Subway has little in common with the Saint Petersburg Metro. The metro here is small; it comprises of only 5 lines, with only a few dozen stations, and few stations offer transfer. It has me grinding my teeth with the inefficiency of the layout - whole sections of the city are inaccessible by metro.
Much of this is forgiven when you enter a station. Unlike in New York where the stations are little more than holes in the ground with a few flights of stairs for entrance and egress, the vast majority here have large vestibules on the surface. You enter, buy your token (22 roubles at time of writing - about $.70), proceed through the turnstile and step onto the escalator. There are no stairs, and you honestly wouldn't want them as the Petersburg Metro is the deepest in the world, and it often takes 3-4 minutes on the escalator to reach the platform. Kindly stand to the right to let faster descender/ascenders pass by on the left. Having tried to walk down the escalators I don't recommend it; the length of the descent combined with the fact you are on a moving staircase makes the experience a vertigo-inducing one. One classmate of mine even likened the escalator ride to "descending to the Underworld to meet Hades." When you (finally) reach the platform, you are greeted not by the River Styx and Charon, but by a sight that is more reminiscent of the Louvre than any home of the dead (take your pick). High ceilings supported by elegantly sculpted columns trimmed with gold are the rule rather than the exception. Despite being over a hundred meters below the surface, the stations feel light and spacious if not quite airy.
The trains run fast and come often. Despite often arriving at the platform as a train is pulling out, I have yet to wait more than 2 or 3 minutes for the next one. During rush hour the trains are every bit as packed as their New York counterparts, especially around the stations at the center of the city. No matter - you probably are only riding for a few minutes. After all, there aren't very many stops. The last trains leave the end stations at midnight, and after 12:15 you could very well be out of luck taking the metro home (hellooooooo gypsy cabs!).
Unfortunately, taking pictures in the stations is prohibited, and even if you are willing to ignore the statute, exposing yourself needlessly to pickpockets on the busy platforms is not a wise move. As such, I cannot provide my own photos for your viewing pleasure, but you will have to make do with ones I borrowed from Wikipedia.
Saturday, August 28, 2010
A taste of what's to come
Although I have now been in Saint Petersburg for several days, today was, in my opinion, my first day in the city. Up until now I had been at a hotel with the 71 other CIEE students on the southern edge of Petersburg; I must admit it was something of a relief to finally get into the actual downtown area.
Today the CIEE students took a bus tour of the city, getting a chance to see many of the major landmarks and more importantly, a chance to orient themselves in our new home. Perhaps the most important (and my favorite) stop was Смольный (Smolny): a gorgeous collection of powder-blue buildings that will be the academic home of the CIEE students.
Following the tour I elected to walk back home rather than take the metro. I made the trip with another student, as the two of us live within a few blocks of each other on Petrogradskaya. It ended up being a good decision; the walk included spectacular views of the city.
This evening, I took an stroll from my new home to the Peter & Paul Fortress - the founding place of Saint Petersburg (it remains light in the city until about 10:00pm). The fortress is far larger than I had anticipated, and contains many attractions, all of which require tickets, which I did not feel like spending the money on tonight - it was getting late, and I will certainly be going back. Entrance to the compound, however, is free, so I strolled around, admiring the golden spire of the church, and dodging the many young couples in the area (it seems to be quite the lovers' spot).
Enough about the specifics, it's time for some abstraction. While New York City (the city with which I am most familiar) is undeniably beautiful, especially from certain angles, it is also undeniable the canyons of Manhattan have certain gray quality to them. Though it is true the city is incredibly diverse in many ways, and there is obviously color to be found, the average visitor to Manhattan will be far more impressed with the sheer scale and grandeur of the place rather than the color and textures of the buildings. Petersburg is the opposite. It possesses a color palette beyond that of any city that I have ever seen, a color that does not derive from neon signs and lighted boards - such things are actually rare here. The city is awash with a stunning collection of yellow, pink, and mint colored buildings, their multi-colored facades meshing together to form what almost seems to be a fantasy taking shape on an artist's easel. When looking across the wide Neva river to the far bank, the city looks more like an oil painting than it does an actual, physical creation.
It's a city that seems at times to be a mystical place. It's at it's best in waning hours of the evening, the last remnants of the sunlight caressing the golden spires and domes that make up the skyline, creating a veritable light show. It's at these times that the city takes on an almost mystical appearance, a place that makes the happenings of Nikolai Gogol's writings seem far more believable.
I have taken many pictures of the city; for those of you who are on Facebook (and let's face it, who isn't?), they will all be posted there. For those of you who are not, I will also upload all of my photos to a Webshots account, with the link provided below. Finally, I've included two photos - one of the Peter & Paul Fortress, and one of Smolny.
http://community.webshots.com/user/dhw200
Today the CIEE students took a bus tour of the city, getting a chance to see many of the major landmarks and more importantly, a chance to orient themselves in our new home. Perhaps the most important (and my favorite) stop was Смольный (Smolny): a gorgeous collection of powder-blue buildings that will be the academic home of the CIEE students.
Following the tour I elected to walk back home rather than take the metro. I made the trip with another student, as the two of us live within a few blocks of each other on Petrogradskaya. It ended up being a good decision; the walk included spectacular views of the city.
This evening, I took an stroll from my new home to the Peter & Paul Fortress - the founding place of Saint Petersburg (it remains light in the city until about 10:00pm). The fortress is far larger than I had anticipated, and contains many attractions, all of which require tickets, which I did not feel like spending the money on tonight - it was getting late, and I will certainly be going back. Entrance to the compound, however, is free, so I strolled around, admiring the golden spire of the church, and dodging the many young couples in the area (it seems to be quite the lovers' spot).
Enough about the specifics, it's time for some abstraction. While New York City (the city with which I am most familiar) is undeniably beautiful, especially from certain angles, it is also undeniable the canyons of Manhattan have certain gray quality to them. Though it is true the city is incredibly diverse in many ways, and there is obviously color to be found, the average visitor to Manhattan will be far more impressed with the sheer scale and grandeur of the place rather than the color and textures of the buildings. Petersburg is the opposite. It possesses a color palette beyond that of any city that I have ever seen, a color that does not derive from neon signs and lighted boards - such things are actually rare here. The city is awash with a stunning collection of yellow, pink, and mint colored buildings, their multi-colored facades meshing together to form what almost seems to be a fantasy taking shape on an artist's easel. When looking across the wide Neva river to the far bank, the city looks more like an oil painting than it does an actual, physical creation.
It's a city that seems at times to be a mystical place. It's at it's best in waning hours of the evening, the last remnants of the sunlight caressing the golden spires and domes that make up the skyline, creating a veritable light show. It's at these times that the city takes on an almost mystical appearance, a place that makes the happenings of Nikolai Gogol's writings seem far more believable.
I have taken many pictures of the city; for those of you who are on Facebook (and let's face it, who isn't?), they will all be posted there. For those of you who are not, I will also upload all of my photos to a Webshots account, with the link provided below. Finally, I've included two photos - one of the Peter & Paul Fortress, and one of Smolny.
http://community.webshots.com/user/dhw200
Friday, August 27, 2010
On the ground!
Tuesday, August 24th was the long awaited departure date for Russia. The plan: New York City's JFK airport to Helsinki to Saint Petersburg, the whole trip on Finnair. The trip actually went according to plan, and I was lucky enough to meet up with several other students on my program just before the flight.
A few notes about the trip: Finnair uniforms are classy, which is obviously a misguided attempt to distract from the truly awful airline food. Even by the standards of airline food, this was pretty bad. Finnair's entertainment systems are quite impressive, though I am sad to say that James Cameron's "Avatar" is not nearly as impressive on an eight inch screen as it was in 3D. Rather, it was exposed for what it truly is: style over substance, and without the vaunted 3D effects, it's an average action flick with mediocre acting and worse writing. Herbie Hancock's Grammy winning "River: The Joni Letters" is a truly sublime work of art, and should be listened to from start to finish in one sitting without any distractions.
With that fluff aside, I arrived in Saint Petersburg around noon on Wednesday the 25th, and quickly met up with the CIEE representative at the airport. We waited around for awhile until more students arrived, and then those students who had arrived boarded a bus to a nearby hotel. We were randomly assigned with a roommate to a room in the hotel, and after a quick meal, we all went off to collapse and rest our jet-lagged bodies and minds.
The next day (yesterday) was the first of orientation - seminars were conducted by the excellent CIEE staff on cultural differences and learning to live in Russia. Perhaps most importantly, students had the opportunity to purchase SIM cards and cell phones. That night, a large group of CIEE students headed to the famous Nevsky Prospekt for our first real taste of the city.
Nevsky Prospekt is a stunning avenue. It can perhaps best be described as a cross between Madison Avenue and the Champs Elysees - a broad, glittering road lined by incredibly ornate and intricate facades. Countless expensive fashion and jewelery stores line the street, easily rivaling New York's Diamond District. I will post pictures later, as well as more thoughts about the street, however I want to get this entry done soon so I can get some rest.
Today involved more orientation, and was capped by the event that most students had been awaiting with even amounts of dread and excitement: the meeting of our host families. Right of the bat I would like to say that I have been blessed by a wonderful family. For their privacy I won't go into detail, but suffice to say that my hosts for the next four months have been incredibly gracious and generous, welcoming and kind. The neighborhood (Southwestern part of the island of Petrogradskaya) in which they live appears, at least at first, to be an excellent one. It somewhat resembles the artsier sections of Brooklyn, with appealing cafes, up and coming art galleries, and a general "indie feel." More information (and pictures) are to come, but for now I bid my scores of readers (read: sarcasm) a good night.
A few notes about the trip: Finnair uniforms are classy, which is obviously a misguided attempt to distract from the truly awful airline food. Even by the standards of airline food, this was pretty bad. Finnair's entertainment systems are quite impressive, though I am sad to say that James Cameron's "Avatar" is not nearly as impressive on an eight inch screen as it was in 3D. Rather, it was exposed for what it truly is: style over substance, and without the vaunted 3D effects, it's an average action flick with mediocre acting and worse writing. Herbie Hancock's Grammy winning "River: The Joni Letters" is a truly sublime work of art, and should be listened to from start to finish in one sitting without any distractions.
With that fluff aside, I arrived in Saint Petersburg around noon on Wednesday the 25th, and quickly met up with the CIEE representative at the airport. We waited around for awhile until more students arrived, and then those students who had arrived boarded a bus to a nearby hotel. We were randomly assigned with a roommate to a room in the hotel, and after a quick meal, we all went off to collapse and rest our jet-lagged bodies and minds.
The next day (yesterday) was the first of orientation - seminars were conducted by the excellent CIEE staff on cultural differences and learning to live in Russia. Perhaps most importantly, students had the opportunity to purchase SIM cards and cell phones. That night, a large group of CIEE students headed to the famous Nevsky Prospekt for our first real taste of the city.
Nevsky Prospekt is a stunning avenue. It can perhaps best be described as a cross between Madison Avenue and the Champs Elysees - a broad, glittering road lined by incredibly ornate and intricate facades. Countless expensive fashion and jewelery stores line the street, easily rivaling New York's Diamond District. I will post pictures later, as well as more thoughts about the street, however I want to get this entry done soon so I can get some rest.
Today involved more orientation, and was capped by the event that most students had been awaiting with even amounts of dread and excitement: the meeting of our host families. Right of the bat I would like to say that I have been blessed by a wonderful family. For their privacy I won't go into detail, but suffice to say that my hosts for the next four months have been incredibly gracious and generous, welcoming and kind. The neighborhood (Southwestern part of the island of Petrogradskaya) in which they live appears, at least at first, to be an excellent one. It somewhat resembles the artsier sections of Brooklyn, with appealing cafes, up and coming art galleries, and a general "indie feel." More information (and pictures) are to come, but for now I bid my scores of readers (read: sarcasm) a good night.
Friday, August 13, 2010
Intro
My senior high school English teacher, as English teachers do, assigned a novel to be read over the summer before classes began. Summer reading is a particularly detested assignment among students for obvious reasons; even I, who greatly enjoy reading, usually dislike such work as it distracts me from books I would like to pursue myself.
Grumblings aside, my classmates and I spent the summer contemplating (note contemplating, rather than completing) the assigned book, Fyodor Dostoevsky's classic Crime & Punishment. I wasted most of the summer trying to figure out just why our teacher would have assigned a Russian novel in a course entitled English Literature, but no matter. I did eventually crack the book open, and became lost in it, lost in the dark tale of ax murders in shadowy alleys in Saint Petersburg, of a wily detective matching wits with the hero (or anti-hero?) of the novel, Raskolnikov. I raced to the end, desperate to finish it so that I could complete the accompanying written assignment before the start of the academic year. Once the assignment was safely turned in, I returned to Crime & Punishment so that I might finish it at my own pace. My love affair with Russian literature has continued ever since.
I hope to use this blog in the future to express some of my own feelings on the innate qualities and emotions of Russian literature, but for now suffice to say that it was that summer, that assignment, that introduction to Fyodor Dostoevsky and his peers that set me on the path that I am on now. For although I am a government major at Colby College, I am also a minor in Russian Language & Literature, and about ten days from now, I will be boarding a plane to Saint Petersburg (via Helsinki) for a semester of study on the CIEE Russian Area Studies program. Over the next several months, I hope to make regular posts about my time in Russia (as well as other topics that come to mind), so that others may share in the experience. It is entirely possible that I may have ended up studying in Russia anyway, but in my mind, the journey began with that assignment, that damned summer assignment, three years ago.
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