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!
Sunday, October 31, 2010
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.
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