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Saturday,
December 13, 2003
Because I have the maturity of a 3rd grader... this warms my heart. - declared by Liusia @ 3:27 PM Friday,
December 12, 2003
Spin Spin Spin! It's been a busy couple of days, and I am feeling like a very mentally dull right now, but I feel like I ought to post anyway. So here are the cool things that the last few days have featured: Lenin's bedroom: Immediately following the Revolution, the Bolsheviks took over the Smolny Institute (which was originally a school for making young genius girls) and used it as their government headquarters. Lenin and his wife stole the French professor's room to sleep in and the headmistress's room for an office. I toured the building on Wednesday. Lenin's room smelled strongly of elderly woman. The Peacock Clock: In the Hermitage, there is a clock, although I'm not sure it's fair to call it a clock anymore, since it now only shows any kind of activity on Wednesdays at 5 pm, whereupon an old man goes in there, winds it up, and starts the thing in motion. First of all, a little gold owl in a little gold cage blinks it's eyes, spins around, and chimes play. Then, a tremendous golden peacock, and I kid you not, spreads its tail, then spins around and moons you. Then, a little golden rooster makes unholy noises that I imagine are supposed to sound like crowing. Then, the old man says, "Okay, that's it!" The whole apparatus is the size of my Freshman year dorm room. The Horse Mummy: In the Hermitage, there is a mummified horse. You have to take a secret passage to get to the room, though. I don't think a lot of people find it (it's nigh impossible to accidentally wander in) and the little old lady who sits in there was so excited to see Sofia, Andrew, Amanda and I that she ran around showing and telling us about all the artifacts in her exhibit, including a felt horseblanket from like 500 BC. She seemed a little sad when we left. I bet we were the only people she'd seen in days. The Pelmeni Boys: For dinner on Wednesday, we went to the little tavern I've mentioned a few times. The same boys that we got drunk with last time were there. They saw us, and being highly mature, started laughing hysterically. We laughed equally heartily. It was silly. Betrothal in a Monastery: This is one of Prokofiev's operas, and we went to see it on Wednesday. It was ridiculous, Soviet and highly enjoyable. It took place in Spain, and I think the main point of the opera was that Westerners are silly and dissolute. The most iconic characters were the drunken, nun-lovin' monks, whose main chorus went something like this: "Hooray, wine! We drink the wine and spin! Spin spin spin!" But the best line of dialogue of the whole night belonged to Don Gerome (yes. Gerome): "Recently, I chased you away from my house with a shoe, but now I'm glad you're my son-in-law!" I will be purchasing the soundtrack. Last day of class: Thursday was the last day of class. THANK GOD. Happy New Year's: On Thursday, the St. Petersburg Times had a New Year's party. There are those that would suggest that New Year's should be celebrated on New Year's Eve, or even a day near New Year's Eve. Those people are not Russian. It was held at a restaurant on the Gulf of Finland. There was mulled wine, of which I approve. Staff writer Matt got snookered enough that he overcame what he termed his "British stolidity" and not only danced, but got me to dance, which is a true feat. Cossacks: Today, Sofia, Amanda and I watched several hours of a miniseries about cossacks. Sofia bought the miniseries on DVD, and in true Russian style, it turned out to be a random sampling of episodes in no particular order. So we had no idea what was going on, except that it was awesome. The show is called Bayazet, which we though referred to the main character (who was quite attractive in a sort of scruffy squinty way), but after much confusion and humorous misunderstanding, realized that it was the name of the fortress in which the characters abided. We continued calling the guy Bayazet anyway. He had a best friend who looked like Gogol. Gogol, much like the real Gogol, seemed be quite gay, and was in love with Bayazet. But Bayazet loved nothing but his horse and the hookah, really. The main theme of the show (the plot was difficult to follow, what with the episodes being out of order and incomplete) seems to be Bayazet going around and being mean to people. I approve. Yeah, that's all. - declared by Liusia @ 3:36 AM Tuesday,
December 09, 2003
So, instead of going to bed, I took some online quizzes. 
Ha! - declared by Liusia @ 1:52 PM Update: Oh, I'm feeling SO MUCH better now. Sonya just got a document in the mail, and it was in Spanish, so she asked me to translate it for her. Turns out it's from her sister's lawyer in Spain (her sister was this big opera singer, and moved to Spain to be an opera singer there, then had a brain tumor or some shit like that and the operation to remove it paralyzed her, and now she's slowly dying and her husband abandoned her so she's, like, sitting in a hospice somewhere, alone) and it's a Last Will and Testament. Nothing quite like translating someone's half-dead sister's will for them to brighten their day...and yours, for that matter. This day is so ass. I think I'll just go to bed. - declared by Liusia @ 12:55 PM Monday,
December 08, 2003
Blah blah blah I'm sick and I'm hungry. I really want to eat something, but I'm all barfy, and there are no damned soda crackers in all Russia, and I don't have the energy to go out and buy chicken bullion cubes and Sprite. So I tried to find something in the kitchen that wouldn't make me toss cookies, and ended up having a meal of yogurt, coffee and crutons. It's times like this that I really, REALLY want to go home. Blah. I've been trying to come up with an entry that's not boring as hell, and failing. I have stuff to SAY, but it's all coming out pedantic and stupid. So here, a have a picture instead.  A Lenin impersonator feeds the pigeons in Red Square (thanks, Rahma) It's kind of eerie, if you think about it. Lenin's tomb is totally in the background. Oh! Okay, I do have something to share. Look what I found Monday! Hooha! The holy grail! 
Yes, I finally, FINALLY came across a Lada-driving-into-a-canal sign when I actually had my camera. Man, I love that sign. Look, it practically glows, too. That's totally an effect of the flash, but let's pretend like it's a message from God or something. As long as I'm posting pictures, here's the Pizza Hat. I realize that the humor of the Pizza Hat has already been exhaused among all Americans who have ever been to Russia, but it still might be funny to those of you who haven't, you know, seen a Pizza Hat. See, when Pizza Hut came to Russia, they just transliterated the name, instead of translating it. But there's no letter for "H" in Russian, or, for that matter, an "uh" sound. So they write "Pizza Xat." And the X makes kind of a "Kh" sound. And that little red roof looks a whole lot like...well...a hat. So, ha, ha...yeah, it's not actually funny, sorry. But I've already typed all this, so here's the picture: 
And as long as I had my camera Monday night, I figured I might as well try to capture on film the creepiness of the St. Petersburg Times office. I believe I've mentioned that we're housed in an abandoned palace, right? 
Okay, so that doesn't capture it at all. But it's the best I could do, people. There are no lights, so pictures just don't turn out. This picture is taken from the 2nd floor stairwell landing. You can see the big marble pillars, the arches with their crumbling paint, the horrible Soviet-era elevator that no one will take because it looks like sure death, and best of all, that huge, huge wrought-iron candelabra with no candles in it, just dust and cobwebs. It's unnerving as hell to leave work alone at night. Then, you get out into the courtyard and finally feel free of the place, and the gatekeeper creaks her elderly way out of her hut with an immense keyring of immense keys and opens the iron gates, slowly, deliberately, creakingly. Sometimes, she just looks at you all balefully, muttering under her breath. One time, though, she was in a better mood than usual, and told me that I was going to work myself into an early grave, staying so late. When I leave Russia, I think I'm going to miss the gothic horror the most. - declared by Liusia @ 4:06 PM |
