Top Ten

The handbook I got from our program managers, Bryan, covered a lot of useful information about what we could expect from our time in Russia. Nevertheless, more than once I have been caught off guard by some Russian... thing.

10. The widespread use of the Latin alphabet. I thought that once I got to Russia, everything would be in Russian, but English is everywhere. Many stores, usually more upscale, have their name spelled out in English. Products advertised on TV, besides food and cleaning products, generally have English/America/French names. Almost every тетрадь (tetrad') or copy book has English on the cover.

Sidetrack!

I have three such тетради (tetradi): one says «Lovely Fruits» and has a variety of fruits arranged in a grid pattern, the other says «Purple Power» and has an eggplant on it, and my школьный дневник (shkol'ny dnevnik) (grade book that I'm using as a day planner) has «aranciamania» superimposed on a large orange and lined up next to it are three grapefruit halves. Other classmates have these red copy books with black felt lettering on them – on says «YES», the other says «NO». It's pretty much hilarious to the American students. Or maybe just me.

9. Light switches on the outside of rooms. From the hunt for the light switch of the bathroom at the hotel to the hunt for the light switch of the kitchen in my apartment, I am still baffled as to why rooms are wired this way. It makes early morning pranks so easy. “Sasha, turn the light back on, I’m trying to take a shower in here!!”

8. Washing machine in the bathroom. I was initially surprised when I saw the washing machine standing across from the bathroom sink in my apartment, but it makes sense when you think about it: a) the dirty water goes straigh into the tub and B) where else would the thing be? The kitchen?

7. Cars driving and parking on the sidewalks. 'Nuff side.

6. Spitting on the street. I knew about the dog poop on the street, I had been warned that Russians don’t clean up after their dogs – they think it’s dirty to do so, and we think it’s dirty not to – but what bugs me more than dodging Sharik’s business is spotting Ivan’s expectorations. In any case and unfortunately, I need to spend more time watching my step than gazing at…

5. The amazing sky. I don’t know why the clouds look closer here than in the States, but I do know that I live a stones throw from the Gulf of Finland, and the sky is often filled with these enormous puffy clouds that take on the most gorgeous hues come sunset. I can’t do justice to the skies of St. Petersburg with words.

4. The plethora of small grocery stores. I call them “produktis” because they all say Продукты (prah-DU-ktee, foodstuffs) on the outside, but that’s like calling a grocery stores “foods” because that’s what they sell. Plus, I’m inflecting an inflection by adding an ‘s’ to the already plural ending, ы. The point is, there are SO MANY places around town, around the metro stations, around the bus stops to buy food, or flowers, or stockings. Even coming from a consumerist society, it's a little much. But, as Amy pointed out to me, there's five million people in this city, and they all have to eat. And give flowers. And 2.5 million of them have to wear stockings.

3. Ремонт (reh-MONT: renovation), everywhere. I considered counting all the construction sites that I pass on my way to and from school, but it would require such sustained concentration and counting that I'd rather spend my time reviewing vocabulary. Not only are sidewalks being torn up all over the city, but scaffolding draped in green mesh surrounds every other building. Internal ремонт is just as wide spread. I went to the fourth floor bathroom at Smolny – a large desk blocked the door, on which was an explanatory sign: РЕМОНТ. I walked into the second floor bathroom – two sinks lay in the corner, and two new ones stood in their place on the wall, the manufacturers' stickers still in place. Furthermore, doing ремонт in one's apartment is THE thing to do. The apartment above Amy's treats her to the sound of drilling and hammering on a regular basis. I myself was privey to a Power Drill Recital just last afternoon.

2. Classes meeting only once a week. No one told me that Russian college classes meet only once a week! I was shocked when Bryan (program manager) revealed this fact during orientation. Later, I asked him why he didn’t put that in the handbook. “Because no one would come to Smolny,” he said, “if they knew classes only met once a week.” Apparently, people from the States would consider once-a-week, three hour classes not challenging enough. As for myself, I’ve had plenty of homework to chew on throughout the week. I’m really just bummed that all of my classes, besides Russian Language ones, go until 20:00. And of course, class doesn’t get out right on time, you stay to chat with whomever, you wait a while to catch the bus, and BAM you can’t get home to dinner before nine. Moreover, if I do end up taking piano lessons (which seems more unlikely with each passing day), and I have to rely on the pianos at Smolny, then I can only start practicing at eight. Or whenever the professor teaching in room 402 returns the key to the room.

1. счас/шас. (shash) I don't think anyone told me that Russians say this all the time. As near as I can figure out, it means подожди or or «hang on» or «wait a second.» Maybe I wasn't paying attention in class when we went over this or something, because everyone says it and I had never heard it.

That's all for now, folks. Tune in next time for an update about what Hannah eats, same Bat-time, same Bat-channel