Ещё Питер.

We went to Peter and Paul's Fortress today. The place that the city of Saint Petersburg was founded. Also the place of imprisonment for many writers, and pretty much anyone who oppossed or dared to speak against the government. Some of these prisoners include Dostoyesky, Gorky and Lenin's brother. We saw their cells. Which weren't too bad, I guess. Only they often got executed a few days after they arrived. One of the babushka guards made a joke (I'm very proud of her, because they are sometimes pretty grumpy), by turning off the lights and pretending to close the door on us while we were looking at the solitary confinement cells in the prison. She laughed and smiled, too. In the fortress is a church which contains all the bodies of the tsars and tsarinas from Peter the first to the Romanovs. It was kind of cool that they did it that way. . . and that they were able to find the Romanovs and put them there, too. Good job, Gorbechev. Apparently the fortress is a great place to go tanning, too. As you can see in the picture above. Although, why you need tanned buttskins when a long winter is on the horizon is beyond me. Maybe they are paid to entertain the tourists. Who knows.

День

We toured the city of Saint Petersburg today. Ancient beauty interlaced with Soviet societal sanctions. So much history . . . most of it involving murder. I can't wait to compare this western most part of Russia to the other, not-so-influenced reaches of the country. Our tour guide led us to the most American place in the city for lunch: Pizza Hut, or as the Russians say: Пицца Нат. But, all was not lost, we stopped for some genuine Russian морожное (ice cream), and took the most-amazing of all subway systems: the Saint Petersburg Metro. It will take me a bit to get used to all the pushing, but the efficiency of the system is ridiculous. The metro sits 80 meters below the ground, with the deepest part being 105 meters below the city. With long, steep escalators leading up and down, these cavities were initially built as bunkers against nuclear attack.
After buying some pirated music and non-alcoholic beer called Khvas (Квас), we ended the day by being the stupid American kids playing on the merry-go-round in the park. Ahh :)

Choices

I did it! I made it a whole day without coffee or caffeine of any kind. This, of course, was not by choice. 160 rubles doesn't go very far and I decided hydration comes before caffeination, and stuck with buying the water and a bag of trail mix. So ensued the day of headaches, stomach aches and body aches and lying in bed. Around nine o'clock last night I got a phone call from reception saying that my friend “William” was in the lobby, and wanted to talk to me. I didn't know a William.
It turned out to be another member of my group, who had just come in from the airport, but couldn't book a room here because they were full. He wanted to dump his stuff in my room and go look for a hotel. Yes, on foot, yes, in the dark, yes, in a foreign country. Who was I to stop him? He came up to me after breakfast this morning and asked if he could come up to my room and get his passport: he had spent the night in the lobby of my hotel, as he couldn't check in anywhere else without his passport. I felt pretty bad about this :( But he's now sleeping two rooms away (in a bed, this time). After yesterday, breakfast this morning was heavenly. Have you ever had Russian cottage cheese with shredded beets?!?! With a stomach full of good food and some coffee back in the system, I'm ready to conquer the world. Or at least Torzhkovskaya Street.

Entrance

So here I am, approximately 38 hours after leaving home. 4,870 miles from my own comfy bed and my stuffed eyeball, “Ernesto” (my teddy bear, as it were), dirty, tired, and sipping on my last few ounces of uninfected water while wondering whether or not I should have brushed my teeth with the water from the tap. As I go to write this, I blow out the reading lamp; simply by turning it on. From my bed I can hear drunk Russian voices outside my window, and smell the smoke and the grime of the city. Tires screech and traffic speeds by. The desk clerk at the hotel speaks no English. <Записать анкета> she said, as I went to check in, shoving a blank piece of paper in front of me. I think I know what she's asking, but continue to ask her about my payments, to her frustration, <записать анкета!> she repeated and went to help another customer, while I stood there confused. We finally realized as she came back to check on me a few minutes later, that she had given me the only blank анкета in the stack. :) I got sent through customs twice: once to get my migration card which I bypassed in the airport, and again to fill out the unfinished side of that same migration card that I tried to take through. But this kind of imperfection is good, every so often. This kind of frustration makes you better appreciate the easy times you have, and how I hardly ever have to get myself out of my safe protected shell, if I don't feel up to it. These are the moments and times that keep you flexible, broaden your ability to deal with situations, and defy stagmentation. Sometimes it's better not to pretend that everything will always go smoothly, and Russia does a good job of this. The trip over was good. I made two Polish friends(whose daughter just so happens to work for Starbucks, like to cook, be my age, and done a study-abroad herself), one Italian friend (everything you hear about the Italian men is true), who speaks English, German, Italian and Russian. I had a 50% successful conversation with my taxi driver, spent the day in Germany people watching and spending 14 of my 16 Euros, on excellent food and essential coffee, and safely made it to my destination with all sixty-one pounds of my luggage arriving unscathed and in-time! So, forgetting the blood on my sheets and the hair on my pillow, I'll remember that these are exactly the reasons why I chose Russia. I said “Bring it on” and it's on.

Disclaimer

I write this blog for my own benefit and the benefit of anyone who reads it. Any statements either directly or indirectly offensive to or misrepresentaional of Russia or it's people are completely unintentional and soley from my own observations. Thanks for reading! Счастливы!