Beautiful and Dirty Rich

I arrived to Moscow, happy to become reacquainted with this city of my past.  My first experience in Moscow was shrouded in dishevelment and sleep deprivation.  Instead of using the train system to get from St. Petersburg to Moscow, we were forced to take an old Soviet style bus that sputtered along the somewhat unpaved roads, because my study abroad program was banned from taking the train system.  Why you might ask?  Turns out the students hosted a Toga Party, got ridiculously drunk and made fools of themselves.  At the time I though this was ridiculous, but having lived on the trains for the past few weeks, I can see how this scenario is totally plausible.  Unable to sleep on the bus ride to Moscow, feeling incredibly dirty after sweating through the night, and wearing tennis shoes all sucked enjoyment out of my first experience with the capital of Russia.  

This time, I resolved that it would be different.  After almost a month of carrying around more makeup than necessary for a backpacker who is traveling for 3 months, buying a hair straightener in Beijing, and carrying a pair of useless heels, I finally am reaping the benefits. 

My traveling tip for you: If a club in a foreign country looks like they are doing Face Control (controlling the people who come into the club based on how cool they look) just speak in English and tell them you are from California.  Works every time.  Second tip: Do not be afraid if an old Russian man walks up to you to smell your beer to make sure it is of high quality.  This is an act of friendship.

The clubs we went to that night did not disappoint.  We spent the evening dancing to tunes such as Shake, Rock and Roll, Girls just wanna have fun, The Ghost Busters Theme, popular hit by Romanian band Ozone, Cotton-Eyed Joe, Vanilla Ice, Hammer Time, and a few other random eclectic songs.  My favorite random song was played at the end of the night.  It was meant to be a slow romantic song - but there is nothing romantic about slow dancing to Stan by Eminem (song about a deranged fan who drive his car over a bridge with his pregnant girlfriend in the trunk).  "Oh hunny, dance with me!  They are playing our song!"

At the end of the night, or start of the morning as it was already about 6:15AM when we finally got to go home, we decided it would be best to take a short cab ride home. I flagged down a taxi, asked him in Russian if he could take us to our hostel.

Cab Driver: "No, that is too close.  It is better if you just walk."

Erica: "Please, sir.  I am so tired,  We will pay you.  Help me"

Cab Driver: "No, you walk."

He drove away and I was left wondering if he learned his taxist manners in China.

VIP Escort

No, I was not just at Disney World.  This is Kazan', Russia!  Beautiful right?

The next day, we entered the Kremlin to take pictures and see the famous towers of Kazan'.  My favorite tower is the Suyumbike tower: legend has it that it is named after the Tartar Princess that Ivan the Terrible wanted to marry.  She told him if he could built a tower in her honor in one week, she would marry him.  To her dismay, he was able to build it, and rather than marry him, she ended her life by throwing herself of the top.  History can be so dramatic, right?  Ivan must have been in a hurry because the tower very obviously leans to one side.

It as interesting seeing the different forms of architecture in one place.  Kazan' has so many different historical influences.

For example, this mosque is right next to a church.  They look so strange right next too each other.  

Before touring the rest of the city, we decided it was necessary to visit one of the most important sites, one that we have not seen since Beijing: MacDonalds!  MacDonalds in Russia is a posh restaurant, where all the kids hang out, looking as classy as ever.  They play techno (of course) and have free wifi.  The Big Mac tastes as deliciously artificial as it does anywhere else in the world.

After satisfying our craving for some good ol' American food, it was time to explore.  Gulnaz' friend Ilnur who also showed us around the city in Kazan' asked us if we would like a VIP Escort of Kazan' State University (formerly Lenin State University).  This is the university that Lenin studied at until he was kicked out for having revolutionary ideas.  Ilnur attended the university, so he got us access to all the areas that tourists could not enter.  The university was very large and had different areas and even museums.

Did you know that at one point and time, Lenin actually had hair??  We call him Молодой Ленин or Young Lenin.  I suppose all good things must come to an end through right?  

Some of these shots made me miss the University of California, Berkeley.  I am so proud that my university also has random museums in hallways and an amazing history.  Competing with a city that just celebrated its 1,000th anniversary is hard though.  I don't feel bad that not all our our halls look like the one bellow.

We finished off the day by eating delicious Tartar cuisine.  It was slightly expensive, but what fun would life be if you didn't get to live it. 

We just made it to Moscow!  I am scared, and excited to find out what adventures will be had in this famous city.  

Claudia arrives in just two days!  See you soon, my friend!

I found my Doppelganger in Kazan'

Have you ever been to a Cuban restaurant only to find Mexican sombreros and a map of South America tiled on the floor with the word "Cuba" written all over it?  Craving spice and tortillas, James and I set out in search for something besides Borsht and dill.  Side note: In Ekaterinburg, I ordered Borsht and rice, and received a shot glass with my meal.  My Russian isn't perfect, but I am positive I didn't see anything about vodka coming with my meal.  Interesting...

Anyways, what we found in Kazan' was a Cuban restaurant that was definitely confused as to what kind of brown it was supposed to be.  They were playing some Latin flavored music, a much appreciated shift from the usual techno beats we have been enduring throughout Siberia.


I was excited to see someone as excited I am about dancing, even if I am the only one on the dance floor.  Strangely, I was the one urged to come dance, and this gesture sparked a new friendship.

She had pushed the tables and chairs out of the way, and created a makeshift dance floor.  Soon, we got some other locals to join in and dance with us.  There was one Russian guy who was especially good at partner dancing, but for whatever reason, when he started to dance with me he preferred to bump and grind like an eager pre-teen.  I enjoyed my dance with my new friend, Gulnaz, much more.



After we finished our Mega Mojito, which was not as strong as it appeared, I swapped contact info with my new friend and asked her in Russian where they were going next.  It seemed like she said that they were going home because she had an early train the next day.  However, she invited us to go on a walk.


I am so glad we did, because not only did I get to enjoy a night tour of this beautiful city of Kazan, but also a full on photo shoot!  We found roses by the Kremlin which adorned our photos for the rest of the night.    My doppelganger in Kazan’ is just like me: loves to dance and take pictures.  What else do you need in life really?

My new best friend, Gulnaz

She later invited me to come back to Kazan’ in 2013 for a volunteer expo that she is working for, and I just might take her up on her offer.  It is not every day that you meet someone who you are just destined to be good friends with.  Come to think of it, I think they gather volunteers, ask them to blog about their volunteer work, then they get voted on... hmmm... what do you think, people?  Is this something up my ally for my time in Ukraine teaching English to the homeless kids? 


I am glad I studied Russian – otherwise, I may not have met a new great friend.

Mosque

Kremlin Walls

James and me on the Riviera

Ekaterinburg in a Meat Bag

Ekaterinburg was obsessed with the Beatles!

Church to commemorate the death of the Romanovs

The love you take is equal to the love you make... - The Beatles

The city of Ekaterinburg is large, historical and happening. We saw the memorials, churches, the downtown, and even, randomly enough, a tribute to the Beatles.

This is a random sign I thought was funny.  It states, "Be careful!  Evil Dog!"






Wandering the city was a lot of fun.  It was a little cold and overcast, but all in all, it was a beautiful city. The night life however, requires more explanation.


Every night we were out until 6AM.  It's not that James and I are that cool, staying out till the sun rises - this is just the norm in Russia.  Our first night, we were supposed to head to a different location because the hostel was over booked.  There were people who were supposed to leave at 4AM; we never had to go to the alternate housing.  By the time we got back from our night out, they were already gone.  That first club was interesting.  At first they didn't want to let us in, but as soon as we told them we were from California, they told us to put our coats aways and come back.  Oh yes, in the words of Katy Perry, "California gurls, we're unforgettable!"  Inside, was a mix of bad techno, and what look like underage girls.  It looked like a high school dance.  This is exactly why I would be an opponent of making the minimum drinking age in the USA 18; everyone just looks way too young.

Fellow Travelers at the Yellow Submarine Bar

Of course I started another dance party!

The next night, fellow hostel residents and I went to a Beatles themed bar (What did I tell you about this city's obsession?).  They were by far my favorite travelers I have met on this entire trip.  All super funny and extremely interesting.  At the bar, we met some Russian girls whose men were immediately alarmed and concerned about losing their women to James.  He got pulled aside by a Russian dude and was told, "I don't care what you do, but tonight she is mine."  Yes, women are treated like property here.  We ended up following our new Russian friends around the city after the bar closed at 3AM.


My favorite moments included me trying to explain to this Russian man the concept of a hostel.  
Russian Man: "Five back packs no problem!  You stay with me! I like Back People." 
Erica: "No, not Back People, that sounds like something else in English.  Back-packers!"


I was shocked when they wanted to keep going at 6AM.  I put my foot down, and said, we are close to the hostel - James, we are going home.  I had had enough for one night.  They walked by a Kiosk and offered to buy me a beer.  Confused, but I am walking home??  This is Russia. 


After they walked us home, they told us to call them in the morning so we could hang out again.  


Erica to the 50 year Pyoter: "Tomorrow is Monday, don't you have to work?"
Pyoter: "Yess, sure, but for you, whatever."


I love Russia.  We were out until 6AM on Monday morning, everyone had work that day, and they still went out after the wet blanket Americans wanted to go home.




What happened next was unexpected.  This is what happens when you stumble into your hostel at 6AM.

This Frenchman who was staying in our hostel slept in a sleeping bag like sheet called a "meat bag."  The logic is that you can sleep in it, and not get dirty if the rest of your bed is dirty - quite a handy tool for a traveler.






We came home to find him walking the corridors in his meat bag, with a bottle of vodka in hand.    He somehow got me into his meat bag and I thought this was the funniest thing in the world.  Sadly the pictures of me in the bag head first, a la Borat, were on someone else's camera. 

Irish Invasion of the Meat Bag

The best part was that the Irish guy who was also staying with us got jealous and also wanted to get into the meat bag.  His entrance into the French territory sparked an epic battle at 7AM in the middle of the hostel.


Nothing like two full grown men fighting over a meat bag to make you glad you were sober enough to catch it on film and actually remember the madness that ensued.  


I was terrified they were going to break something in the hostel.  Remember kids, Drinking is Dangerous!

Peaceful Coexistence?

Irish winning the Battle of the Meat Bag

French Retaliation

The French guy kept insisting, "I won!" because he had slapped the Irish guy.  

James: "You bitch-slapped him.  You both lose!"

Just like the French to think they won when it is obvious that they were far from victory.

The French was subdued - America watches in neutrality

Русский язык – самый сложный язык по миру : Russian is the hardest language in the world

Сегодня на поезде в Казань, я познакомилась с людями.  Я чувствовала хорошо, потому что я могла понимать, что они сказали.  Они хотели знать, если я российская девушка или если у меня российская семья. 

Эрика:  «Нет, я родилась в Калифорнии, и моя другая семья сейчас живете в Мексики»

Люди:  «Это так интересно.  У нас Мексиканка-Американка, кто хотела путешествовать по Сибири и говорить по русский»

Эрика:  «Да, знаю что я странная девушка»

Почему я хотела изучать русский язык?  Я думаю, что это потому что, мне нравится как сложный русский язык.  Французский и Итальянский очень легкие, по-моему.  Тоже мне интересует Советская история.

Я говорила о моей поездке, и какие достопримечательности я там увидела, что мы сделали в Монголии и так далее.  Было весло и забавно. 

 Потом мальчик спросил меня о кризисе в Америке.  Я сказала, что лучше путешествовать или переехать в штате Техас – там работы, я уверила. Я играла роль «кау бои» и он громко рассмеялся.   

Люди начинались говорить о войне, Советский Союз, и Чечни.  Они уверили, что я не похожая на Чеченку.  У меня отлегло от сердца!   Мне было грустно, потому что это тема мне очень интересует, но я много не понимала.  У меня уже так много учиться.    

Я подружилась с русскими людями на поезде и в хостеле.  Я надеюсь, что мы можем писать много по Интернету.

Today on the train to Kazan', I got acquainted with some new people.  I was feeling pretty good about myself because I actually understood what they said to me.  First of all, they wanted to know if I was Russian or if I had any Russian family.  It went something like this:

Erica: “Nope, I was born in California and my other family is in Mexico.”

Russians: “That’s interesting.  We have met a Mexican-American girl, who wants to travel through Siberia and speak in Russian.”

Erica: “Yes, I know I am a strange girl.”

They also asked why I want to study Russian.  I think it’s because I like the challenge of such a hard language.  French and Italian are too easy, in my opinion.  Also, Soviet history is really interesting to me.

I talked to them about my trip, which tourist attractions I have seen, what we did in Mongolia and so on.  They especially liked the story about how James fell of his horse twice and got kicked.  It was a pretty awesome conversation.

Then, one of the young men asked me about the crisis in America and what I thought about it.  I told him it was a big problem, but the best thing to do would be to travel or move to Texas; there is work in Texas, I assured him.  He laughed when I enacted life in Texas and acted like a cowboy. 

The people then started talking about war, the former Soviet Union and Chechnya.  They assured me that I do not look Chechen.  That was a huge relief for me!   It was a very interesting conversation, but I quickly realized how limited my language skills are.  I was sad because I would have loved to have been able to understand their viewpoints and talk to them more about the topic.  I guess I still have a lot of studying to do.

I did make friends with other Russian people on the train and in the hostels I have stayed at.  I hope that we can keep in touch via email in the future. 

Эрика, я тебя люблю! : Erica, I love you!

Я познакомилась с русскими людями, и было очень интересно!  Мы пыли пиво конечно и скоро мы начали танцевать на поезде.     

I had an amazing time with my new friends on the train ride from Tomsk to Yekaterinburg.  We drank some beer and before we knew it, we had started a dance party on the dining car after hours.  

After spending the rest of the night laughing and dancing in the dining car, we started to play music on my iPhone.  I played some Soviet songs for kicks and what proceeded next was the epitome of everything I wanted and hoped for this trip - a drunken sing-a-long to the Anthem of the Soviet Union with Russian strangers in a train car somewhere in Siberia.  We sang so loudly, other patrons of the dining car eagerly joined in and cheered in nostalgia.

We eventually got kicked out of the dining car and were forced to walk back to our car through halls of sleeping passengers.

All was going well until the Russian who told us he had been studying to become an Orthodox priest started questioning his life long devotion and started to ask me to be his woman.

"Эрика, я тебя люблю!" - Это что мой новый друг мне сказал много раз.  Как глупый этот мальчик, который учится на семинарии.

"Erica, I love you! - This was what my new friend told me many times that night.  I kept thinking, he's harmless; what a silly boy who is in his fifth year in the seminary.  

"Erica, you break my heart. You kill me."

What happened next basically reaffirms every stereotype of "Crazy Drunk Russians" I have ever known.  After I repeatedly rejected his advances many times, he told me, "Erica, you break my heart. You kill me."  He pulled out his switch blade and showed me how painful my rejection was.  Friends, because I am sure you will be concerned for my safety let me reassure you that I was extremely sober, and somehow this distorted display of affection was more hysterical than frightening.

Ok, maybe not so dull!

"What a dull knife" I kept thinking.

Very soon after he drew blood, I decided it was time to find my bed and go to sleep.  I had had enough fun for the day.  He continued to follow me around the following morning.  Needless to say, after the previous night, I was not shocked to see him with yet another been in hand.  

Девушка, как вы не холодны?? : Lady, how are you not cold??

Tomsk State University

In Siberia, I am convinced that women either run extra warm-blooded or refuse to show pain.  James and I visited the university in Tomsk and were amazed at how much skin we saw.  Maybe the Soviet scientists invented a revolutionary heat-retaining synthetic fabric and refused to share its secrets with the West.

According to other locals I met, this phenomenon of pantless-Russian women continues all year, even during the Siberian winter.  Here I am, in nylons, jeans, two shirts, a fur hat and leather gloves - still feeling cold.  Earlier, a woman in a mini shirt and stillettos walked by me eating an ice cream bar.  I really wanted to ask her, "Девушка, как вы не холодны??" : "Lady, how are you not cold??"  

Woman in mini shorts on her way to class

After my summer in St. Petersburg, I was determined to dress up and wear heels to class every day.  Looking back, this new devotion to Russification and the Berkeley hills probably are to blame for my partially torn Achilles heel.  

How the women of Russia survive the frigid temperature in heels in mini-skirts will continue to baffle the Western world for years to come.

The World War II memorial was a somber change of pace.  129,000 Russian soldiers went to the front, and only 57,000 returned one memorial reflected.  So many friends and family members were lost.  I stepped back for a moment and reflected on how incredibly lucky I am to have never had to personally be affected by something as grisly as losing my father or love during a war.  If you are lucky enough to have family or a loved one close by, please hug them and tell them you love them.  I will be sure to do the same when I arrive in Austin.