Misadventure #2

In my last post I mentioned a misadventure involving a diner. This one isn’t as much of a misadventure as the first or second ones, but it certainly was an interesting thing to experience. It was during the autumn break which is for the ending of the first school term. I was sadly sick the first two days, like the gross vomiting all-night kind.  And of course, this happened right after I finally got my sleeping back on schedule and it made me nocturnal the rest of break. On Friday night my host mother asked me if I wanted to go visit Lera in Kirov-Chepetsk, which is a Salem-sized city on the outskirts of Kirov. I said sure, as I had no other plans, and one of the first things they tell you in our Rotary exchange camps is to never say no when someone offers you something.

The next day I woke up at 6 am and sleepily got dressed and packed my laptop and phone charger like my host-mother told me and made my way to the car. I slept the entire ride from Kirov to Kirov-Chepetsk, which resulted in me arriving to Lera’s grandmother very sleepy. My host-mother suggested that I take a nap. My host-grandmother gave me a pair of pjs and a place to sleep. I then slept until 4pm. That was not the proper way to slay my nocturnal-ness. I went on an adventure with Lera and her friend from St. Petersburg.(Lera told me her name and I totally missed it.) We ended up meeting with Lera’s other friend in a diner, which is sort of the point in writing this post. I was really hungry after sleeping so much, so of course I wanted to eat.

I had texted my friend earlier that I wanted french fries really badly and coke. So I was incredibly happy when I found a can of coke, french fries and a piroshki full of hamburger. But then, the woman put my tray into the.. microwave? What? $6 later I had a coke, and microwaved comfort food. Writing this nows actually makes it sound really lame, but I thought it was a hilarious Don’t judge.

But back to the microwave. I have gone to multiple cafe’s in Kirov where they microwaved my food. This is a country where the school lunches are prepared fresh everyday and consist of actual food being eaten with actual silverware on real dishes. I think it’s really interesting that they provide their students with such good food, longer breaks, shorter classes and shorter days. But they study 11-17 different subjects at once. It’s very different from home.

I know I haven’t updated you guys in a long time. I’ll try to get on top of it.

But for now

пока пока,

                                           Piffy

Misadventure #1

My first misadventure was by far my worst. This post was originally only going to highlight the night I arrived in Kirov, but I will actually write about my entire experience flying. I am not an experienced flyer. The only time I had ever flown before coming to Kirov was going in a large group to an FFA convention in Kentucky last October. So saying flying to a foreign country alone was a daunting task is an understatement. I bought a Starbucks and waited for my plane and was already disappointed. My experiences with Starbucks are always on either end of the spectrum, either amazing or, in this case, burnt and nasty. But then the plane came and they upgraded my ticket and it was an amazing flight. I really love planes and flying. But then we landed in JFK. And oh man. I was in New York. I was thrilled beyond belief and the airport was amazing. But there was a catch. My terminal was in the other building. So after a couple minutes of wandering, I finally found the exit. I stepped out into the New York morning and imediatly started choking on the air. It was thick with smoke from the taxi drivers on break. In addition, it was dark outside and I was alone. To be honest, I was scared.

I found the correct terminal and did at least five or six double takes. No way this dump was the same airport as that other palace. But it was. And I had no idea where to go. I was starving though so I bought two dunkin' donuts and a cup of their black coffee. I was in line behind no joke, two GIANT men and their tiny old mom. They realized I was alone and kindly let me cut them so I could get out of line quickly. So I took my carry-on, my back pack, my hot coffee and my donut bag over to the wall so I could charge my phone. I took my chocolate donut with sprinkles out. If you know me, you know that other than a chocolate bismark, it's pretty much my favorite. (Note to self, add sprinkles to a chocolate bismark when I get back to the USA) And to my dismay, there was neither sprinkles nor chocolate on my donut. I would like to say I was dignified and mature, but I totally licked it off the paper bag like a child. I paid for icing!

Anyway, after a few hours a man who I can only describe as an urban cowboy came over and asked if he could sit down. I shrugged and moved my bag and after an awkward silence he asked if he could plug his phone in next to mine. I said sure and he asked if I had been to New York before. I said no, and I was from Oregon, so it was a big change. He told me that he was actually just leaving his family in Colorado. He said they were really close-minded and he didn't get along with them, so he was coming to New York to change his luck. I ended up helping him find a hostel to stay at and then we said our goodbyes. I went upstairs and found that my next flight line wasn't even open yet. The joys of a 9 hour lay-over, am I right? I found a nice little nook in a support beam by where my line would be and fell into a resting-but-still-awake state. That is, until a man stole a woman's purse and jumped between my nook and a garbage can to get away. Thankfully at that point it was late enough I could text a friend of mine to calm me down. I decided that contact with family and friends was necessary until I was safe in my host family's home for the sanity of us all.

After what felt like forever of shifting and drifting around the airport, there was finally only an hour left. I resettled in my nook after fully charging my phone in the doorway while I people watched. I skipped a song and in the time it took Pandora to load I heard a woman who sounded very distressed. I looked up and caught her eye. She asked to borrow my phone so she could call her boss and tell her that she would be late. I decided that she seemed like a good person and I could outrun her even if she tried to pull something, so I handed her my phone. She called her boss and returned my phone. I went back to listening to music until a few minutes later when she returned with a fabric dollar-store fan and a bottle of cheap perfume. She insisted that I choose one as her thanks for letting her use my phone. I chose the fan and it is still one of the most special things I have received so far. I don't know if that's weird, but whatever.

I eventually made it onto my plane. (For my local Rotarians who read my letter, I actually got this flight confused) I spent a long flight squished on a seat next to a rather large Russian man who kept trying to speak to me, with a small crying child across the aisle. She promptly threw up as soon as the plane took off. It was.. less, than wonderful. Then I arrived to the Moscow airport. That was an incredibly overwhelming experience. There were way more people and it was all incredibly different and I had to wait 12 hours and I cried and a man vomited in the middle of the airport. I'm not going to go into detail about that. To be honest, I still get some anxiety thinking about it. But thankfully, it was time to go. I got on a tiny 30-seater plane and flew towards Kirov.

I arrived at the Kirov airport incredibly tired after a long trip. So I was exhausted. The airport was dark and tiny. I had no idea where the luggage was, so I just awkwardly followed the other people. I ended up finding both of my bags and then I waited with the other people for my host family. At first I was only a little cold, but then the other people began to disappear, and there was no one looking for me. I figured they may be inside, so I walked into the dark building which had only one light on. I motioned to the guard to say that I wanted in, so they scanned my luggage and I sat there. I used my pocket phrase book to ask if they had a bathroom and they said that they didn’t. I sat in the airport scared, confused, and unable to call anyone, and really in need of a bathroom. I paced around the two lone rows of chairs and looked for wifi. When I finally got connected I called home. It turns out that my host brother never told my host parents when I would be arriving. An hour or two later, my mom had worked her magic and my host family was on their way. About then, an airport worker walked over and said “toolet” which, is Russian for toilet. In Russia, a room with a bath or shower is a bathroom, but if it only has a toilet, it is called a toilet, which is why they said that they didn’t have one. In the end, all was well and I slept like a rock.

I hoped you enjoyed reading the tale of my first misadventure. Thankfully, this experience has led me to be much calmer about when things don't go as planned here.

пока пока,

Piffy

Unplanned Adventures #3 (#1 and #2 will come soon)

Last week, I did one of the seemingly most common mistakes of exchange students. My host sister has been ill and my host mother had to go to work, so it was up to me to get to school on my own.

Now, buses in Russia are very different from the buses I've rode from Monmouth to Salem. There are usually only about 10 people on my ride to Salem, and I've only had to stand on the bus twice. But in Russia, everyone takes the bus. In the morning, I happen to ride 54 which may be the busiest bus ever. Every morning I am a couple minutes late because I have to wait for 54 to come to the stop twice before there is enough room to squeeze onto the bus. And by squeeze, I mean I can barely fit between the door and the other people.

So wanted to try to avoid the crowded bus by taking a different bus to school. A bus I take home often, 46, also goes to my stop. So it made sense, in my head, that the bus that often takes me home would take me to school. However, as you can probably guess by now, it didn't. I failed to remember that I only take 46 home from my Russian lessons, not home from school.

This mistake caused me to ride the bus to the end of the route, where the woman who collects the bus fare told me to get off (I think. She said something I can't spell, but translates to "of course".) So I donned my backpack and stepped off the bus. My first thought was to check the bus stop and see if I knew a bus there. I saw a sign saying T1. I knew my host sister and I have taken bus 1 home before so I figured I could take the bus home, sleep off my embarrassment and go to school an hour later. It wasn't until the bus arrived, after nearly half an hour in the cold, that I remembered the T meant троллибус 1 and we rode автобус 1. So I narrowly avoided getting more lost and set off on my journey. If I'm completely honest, I expected to panic. I panic over tiny things, like cantering on horses or getting a B in biology. Rationally, being lost in a foreign country where I am not yet able to adequately speak the language, would cause me to panic. But I just walked. The sky was white with snow filled clouds, which seem just as full as rain clouds without the moody grey color. While the snow in the roads was mostly cleared, there was some black slush, but the sidewalks had been so heavily trod upon the snow was packed into ice. I listened to the same two albums I bought, along with a few of the U2 songs I didn't as I walked the empty streets. I didn't say much, a single <<доброе утро>> to an old man. I'll also admit to muttering to myself and repeatedly saying my host-sisters' favorite word блин. I also love this word because the direct translation is pancake, however people often use it as "damn."

So there I was humming Paramore songs and muttering "pancake" over and over until I came across another bus stop. I didn't recognise any of the buses on the side of the street I was on so I crossed to the other side to check the stop there. Still no buses I knew. Then I remembered my sister who was home sick. After a call and a few texts and many "pancakes" later, it was decided I would need to look for another stop. Then, as if it were meant to be, bus 54 drove past the corner. Looking back on it, I should have just kept walking straight and turned left to the stop that bus 54 had just been at, but no! I crossed the street once more and proceeded to walk what turned out to be a little over a mile to the stop 54 was on. I also realized there was again a stop on the other side of the street. Unsure of which direction would take me to home or school, I called my sister. She was confused by what I was asking and bus 54 came and went. Literally when the doors closed, my sister said I was at the right stop, and bus 54 would take me home. Bus 53 would take me to school. At this point I figured I would only have 2 more lessons, so I might as well go home and sleep. I checked the board and saw it would be 8 more minutes before the bus returned. But thanks to traffic, I sat there for half an hour playing Kirby and the Magic Mirror, waiting for the bus.(I am proud I am at 51% complete but the stupid cannon/spike level in one of the castles is so hard!)

When the bus finally arrived, I heard church bells. And I'm not being dramatic, a church was chiming 10 o'clock. With a huge sigh of relief I got onto the crowded, but blissfully less crowded than usual bus. I watched the unfamiliar stops fade as I began to recognise the stops.. Getting closer to school. I could taste my sweet lollipop turn sour, as if my mood made the lemon flavor suddenly over power the sugary goodness. The bus chimed and a woman's voice said улица труда and I got off the bus before I could convince myself to "accidentally miss" it and go home. But I arrived at school and had a good day and an amazing soup for lunch with my friends. All in all, my third unplanned adventure wasn't all that bad. I may write about the second someday, if I ever figure out how to properly capture the feeling of a microwave food diner. The first is sorta traumatic and involves airports. That story will come soon too.

I hope you enjoyed my story, and as always

Пока пока

I'm Sorry..Have A Circus Story

Wow, I am certain you are all loving me right now. It has been a nearly a month since I posted last. I was going to make a post about going to the circus with my host-mama and little brother but issues occured and things happened and it was all a big to-do. So to update you all on that end, I am no longer living with Irina and Ivan. I am now living with Katya and Serge. There were personal issues with my last family, with poor health and development of my younger brother and my host mother’s pregnancy. But now I am living with a girl in one of my classes and her family and they are great. My Russian is improving and it is wonderful. I have a 15 year old sister Lera and a 4 year old sister named Sasha. I will write about them soon(I hope)

But It is now time to write about my trip to the circus. I wrote a little in the moment before deciding to focus on the show so that little bit will be in italics.

I don't know what to say. I've never been to the circus before, and I've only ever really seen them in Big Fish and Madagascar 3. There is an upbeat piano tune somewhere in the back right, and right in the center of this little rotunda is, you guessed it, the big red ring. There are ramps and what looks like a trapeze wire. My mama bought popcorn that is stale and doesn't have nearly enough Carmel to hide the burnt taste, but it's somehow just as I imagined it. It's starting to fill with people :)

A drumming began behind the big red curtain, teasing us into curiosity, what could be back there? Then it stopped as suddenly as it began, replaced with a jazzy mix tune originating from the same place as the piano.

The show began with a roller skating show and it was amazing. Three boys and a girl did amazing tricks off of ramps and I could hardly believe my eyes. I have only been rollerskating once in recent memory, and I was terrible(as everyone there could attest.) And I remember back in the day, when Salem or Corvallis had a rink, I would cling to the bar and slowly inch around the ring. So seeing people who were so amazing was awesome.

Then came the monkeys. Now, I am a huge animal lover and part of me hated this because I knew that the animals in this show were not being treated well and I would often see them yanking them and I was about 5 seconds from leaving, but I do have to admit that the monkeys were incredible smart creatures. They wore stupid sequined little outfits and hats. One wore a gas mask and that was terrifying. No, I’m not your mummy.

A dog came in carrying a charriot with monkeys dressed up as Romans with stick swords and they chased monkeys on scooters. And then monkeys riding dogs were chased by monkeys on mini horses and just wow. Monkeys.

Then came the clowns. So I am used to my mental image of clowns being the scary painted face ones. But these clowns just had lots of blush and they were very cool. I was really happy that they weren’t scary they were just shirtless dorks. One was really short and fat and the other was tall and skinny. Skinny did a bridge and Chubby played his ribs like a xylophone and then the ring-master-lady pulled them out of the ring so a warrior princess and her guard could do cool tricks on a teeter totter.

The clowns came back and played some music, Skinny played the banjo and sang really fast Russian and Chubby stole Skinny’s hat and began playing violin(really, really badly.) So of course in retaliation he broke Chubby’s violin. Chubby suddenly played a really awesome saxaphone song. I also remember a great drum solo.

So sadly my bullet points end there so I don’t have any more specific details but I do remember some awesome horse riding and a trapize show that I will never be able to forget or explain. It was amazing and beautiful and scary and just wow.

My mom just said I have cake and coffee so I’m going to go now. Sorry this took so long but I will try writing again soon. Pictures are on their way.

Happy Birthday ReloD!!

Hello everyone! I am so sorry that I haven't posted in a while, but I'm back!

On Saturday I went to a birthday party for a company owned by my rotary club's president. ReloD (Russian English languages open doors) teaches Russian and English to people in hopes of bettering communication. The company turned 17 this weekend and we "went to nature" for a party. It was like the state parks in Oregon. Lakes and green grass, surrounded by pine and birch trees. At one point I took a short nap and looked around and I thought I was back home.

Let me tell you something about Russians. They know how to eat. I ate some meat and picked through the food until I was full and everyone kept piling on more food.
Russia doesn't have pickles, but they do have pickling cucumbers and they eat them just speared. Of all the food I ate, there wasn't much that I didn't try. I ate oiled mushrooms, a tomato and horseradish-like mix (I of course took a huge bite when they said it was spicy. I think my calm reaction scared them a little), a delicious carrot salad, a cabbage-like salad thing and meat. The only thing I didn't eat was the anchovie/sardine things. Because just no. I love fish, but no.

There was also one of my favorite things at this party. Dessert! The Russian sweet tooth is so strong that even I couldn't keep up with them. There was a traditional cake that was a layer of meringue, a layer of creamy frosting, another layer of meringue another layer of creamy frosting, another layer of meringue and then the entire thing was covered in vanilla buttercream frosting. Yeah. Amazing. There was also chocolate cake and way more candy than I knew what to do with.

I have always loved coffee and tea. And in Russia, I am very happy. While this party just had Lipton, everywhere has amazing tea. I love it so much!

After we ate and

chatted, made
almost a million toasts (I went through two glasses of orange juice and a cup of tea) we had some fun. This is Dima and a boy who I think is named Daniil, but I just call him No-Fish rapping about ReloD (I think.) Dima has some mad dance skills doesn't he!
No-Fish is so named because he doesn't speak English. All he knows is "No fish?" and "Panama Beach!" Needless to say, our conversations were thrilling. "No fish?" "I don't understand." "No fish? Panama Beach!" Then we would laugh and it was great. He knew Spanish but between level one Spanish on my part and a Russian accented probably not castajano spanish, we didn't understand each other. He asked if I knew French and I said not really and he said J'taime, to which I responded in my best Russian, I understand. The entire van full of people on the way home busted up laughing. It was hilarious. We also took some pretty awesome selfies too.

This is No-Fish, Dima, My tutor-Anna, Katya(Sister of No-Fish and I)

No-Fish, Katya and I

Katya and I

People of ReloD

Yeah. I'm short. I know.

 Anyway, that's all I have for you today! I hope to share more with you again soon. And as always,
                                                     пока пока,
                                   Piffy

English Teachers

I have found that in every school I have ever gone to, I have found one teacher that I saw as mine. In elementary school it was Mrs. Mortlock, my 3rd grade teacher. In 6th grade (which I sort of see as separate from the rest of middle school) it was Ms. Rivera. Then in the rest of middle school it was the fabulous Mrs. Swartzendruber. In my American high school it was Mr. Gorman. And you know what all of these teachers have in common? They were all my English teachers. So I guess it shouldn’t come as a surprise that here in Kirov, Irina Anatolevna, my English teacher, is also my favorite teacher. We learn together. For instance, today she taught me the word “баба” (ba’ba) which is a Russian term for a homely, peasant girl. One with meat on her bones and rosy cheeks, who can do anything on a farm, from milking cows to butchering one. I taught her the term “rad/radical.” I am translating Russian folk tales and short poems in an attempt to pick up some words before my official Russian lessons start next week and the story of Alladin rhymed rad with Baghdad. Irina then went on to use rad to describe everything, from her students to the weather to her plants.

Without Irina, I think that my exchange would be very different. She is my advisor at school and she allows me to stay in class with her rather than go to boring classes like biology, physics, or maths, so that I can help speak English and learn Russian from her students. The girls in her class are very kind and she encouraged them to ask me questions which led to the discovery that all of the 9th form (grade) listens to the same music as I do. There was even one girl---shy-Lissa, who excitedly spoke to me about music and books---that Irina didn’t know understood English. Of course, happy-Lissa, my guide and (I think) friend, is always very helpful. I am helping her with her English and she is helping to teach me Russian. She and I exchanged phone numbers and we are going to go to the “кафе и синема” (ka’fe ee sin’ema) which is of course, the cafe and cinema, together with a few other girls in my English class.

Irina also took me to the cafeteria, which they call the canteen due to the fact they learn British English, for lunch today. It is one small room with only two rows of tables and a very short line for food. All of the food is prepared by a very sweet woman who cooks all day to provide fresh food for the school. She is very funny and said that she considered her the most important woman because she has the tallest hat.

So I think that the lesson I have learned today is no matter where I am in life, I can trust my English teacher and a good cook!

Пока Пока!

               Piffy

A Short Update

So much has happened since my last post. I was given one city, only to end up in another. I discovered that Russian Tea Cakes are actually Lithuanian(What? Why? How? I don’t know.) I had an interesting experience with my tickets and visa.. but I am tired and I will cut to the chase. You can expect a more in depth/well written post tomorrow.

Today was my first day attending school number 28, one of the best schools in all of Kirov. Kirov is a city of half a million people, so everything is huge. I have to walk 7 flights of stairs to get from my apartment to the ground, and then almost all of my classes are on different floors as well.

For most students, classes vary day to day. My first day I was supposed to have an English class, a Russian class, a Biology class and then two Russian Literature classes. However, the Russian class was in all Russian, plus I detest Biology, so I stayed with my English teacher. It was such an amazing experience. Her first class was around 15 incredibly behaved students who were all very kind to me. Then she had a class of 6 or 7 students who were her “slackers,” but she was very surprised and pleased that they understood me. I think she is too hard on them, they were all very bright in my opinion. And then my favorite class of all, the second formers.  School in Russia is divided into Junior classes- first form through fifth form, and Senior classes-sixth form through eleventh form. After senior classes, students go to College and then University. Forms are essentially grades. So my third class was teaching a group of second graders the alphabet (I also taught my English teacher the word squat, which she pronounces squad.)

I really like my host family, and my “mama” Irina is very kind. She doesn’t speak English and I don’t speak Russian, but we are learning to meet in the middle. I learned “хорошо” (khorosho) which means good/well/okay and she learned good. Most of our conversations are “да, нет, *hand gestures* *sigh* IVANNNN.” But today she spent about five hours with me, teaching me to read from Ilya’s books. Tomorrow I am going to translate fairy tales from Russian into English. I will also write a better blog post. But it is late and I am afraid that jet lag and a long day of a foreign language wore me out more than I expected it would. I am too sleepy to revise this so it may disappear after I write a new blog post tomorrow.

Пока Пока,

Piffy