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I moved in with my Russian “family” last Saturday. This “family” is comprised of a mother. Other families got fathers, brothers, sisters, and a mix of the above, “fathers” being the most lacking component. There are several reason for this. One reason being that Russian men's average life span is 58 years old (I hope my facts are right). Another reason being that the divorce rate here is 80%. My “mother's” name is Galina. She's probably in her late 50's, like to watch Russian soap operas, is very dramatic, and always on the phone with somebody. She made me answer her phone for her the other day, because she was taking a shower. “Laura, Laur! See who it is . . .”

My secret belief is that she can speak English fluently, although I have absolutely zero proof of this. Her daughter was visiting the other day and caught me off guard by knowing the English names for all the animals on my mug.

I've been walking to school every morning. One and one half hours. Quite a change from the five minute walk when we were on campus. But it's better this way. The first morning I took the bus . . . the usual rush-hour bus ride . . . Forty five minutes to go the 5 miles to school. Traffic jams, very crowded, pressed up against hot bodies, some overdue for a washing, and telling you so by the odor.

At 7:18 my alarm goes off. I try to sneak through the living room where Galina sleeps, without waking her up, but have not succeeded yet.
I have a nice room here-- the only bedroom in the apartment. It's warm and cozy, and looks down on a busy sidewalk, and the bus stop and street a little further away.
We have a bathtub, but not a shower. Now, this bath tub has a hose with a sprayer on the end, and, in theory, you would hang it up to make a shower, only it doesn't hang up. There's also no shower curtain, so that it order not to get water all over the floor, you have to either hunch down, or lie in the bath tub and spray yourself with the hose thingy to take a shower. I feel like Gollum hunched down naked in the tub, stringy hair hanging down, water and splashing. I've wanted to sing the “juicy sweet fish song” every single time. One of these days.

Yesterday we visited the “Fantastica” (Фантастика). A huge shopping mall in the city of Nizhni Novgorod. Actually, it looks exactly like the West Gate Mall in Spartanburg. It has a movie theater and everything. I felt okay speaking English out loud here, since all the stores had either English or French names. We even ate at Subway . . . Losers.

Today I made one of the best purchases that I will make here. A bus pass. This way I don't have to constantly dig in my pockets, scrounging up enough rubles to make it to wherever I need to go. However, since this pass only works on the state buses, I am going to have to give up my favorite bus: Маршрутка (Marshrutka) №19. This is one of those extra junky buses, with the dusty outsides, falling-apart seats, and brakes that don't work so well, but are obviously driven by skilled drivers, because I haven't been on one that has crashed yet. I like to stand up at the front by the driver and watch how close he gets to the bus in front of him at every bus stop. This bus brings me to school, home, Harley's, the grocery store, and my service project. And, if that was not enough, this bus only costs, 10 rubles, as opposed to the standard 14 ruble fee. An excellent bus all round. I will miss you, my friend.