My Moscow Life

"And who are you to me?" says the ticket taking lady in front of wagon number 15 last around 1 a.m. this morning. "USA," I respond with a weary-been-up-all-day-and-part-of-the-night-waiting-to-catch-this-late-train-from-Kiev-back-to-Moscow smile. By now I know the drill so I go ahead and remind her that I'll need my immigration papers to fill out to give to the Ukrainian and then Russian border guards when the train inevitably stops for inspections to cross both borders in a few hours - ie - we'll get woken up in the middle of the night. She then lets me know that she'll come into the wagon in a few minutes after everyone's settled to give me said papers. And sure enough, about ten minutes later after making my way through the hot, un-air conditioned hallway of wagon number 15 and finding my spot and putting my little rolley Eddie Bauer suitcase under my bed/bench, the train ticket lady comes down the hall, taps me on the shoulder, and says to me in her quaint Ukrainian accented Russian, "You're my America, right?" "Yes! I'm your America!" I chirp in response, my smile now wider and more full of energy from the kick I get out of our little exchange.

The rest of the 13-hour train ride passes just fine, except for the aforementioned lack of AC. The windows open (unlike in the last train) so I'm pleasantly surprised by the nice, summer nighttime breeze. Then my neighbors decide it's too cold (WHAT???!!!!) and close them. Ugh. So I'm hot for the next five hours or so of sleeping until my neighbors get on board with me and realize that yes, dear reader, it's actually super hot and stuffy and open the windows finally so as to nix this giant sauna-on-wheels. I cross the border just fine without any problems with my papers. It gets hot again during the day even with the windows open. My window-closing neighbors are kind enough to share (ie - insist I eat) their lunch with me. Btw, it was cucumbers, tomatoes, black bread, boiled eggs, and chicken. Mmmmm. . .

So concludes my time in Kiev. As I sit here typing to you from my bed here in my Moscow apartment, dear reader, I'm reflecting on memories from the past three days in this beautiful city and how amazing it is in the summer. I basically just relaxed and casually strolled around the city re-visiting and re-taking pics in the sunny weather of places I'd visited and taken pics of in the cloudy, gray December weather of my last visit there. I also spent the last day and a half doing this walking around (and eating my fair share of tasty Ukrainian food and drinking my fair share of local Ukrainian beer) with a very nice and even cooler Danish guy I met at the hostel where I was staying. That's the great thing about traveling alone - you end up meeting a lot of cool fellow travelers also traveling alone and sometimes hang out and explore together. Both of us had been to Kiev before so we just kinda ended up taking turns being the guide depending on who knew the city better.

Yes, dear reader, you can drop me off in Moscow, St. Petersburg, Kiev, or Odessa, and these are cities I know well enough not only to go around in on my own but also can serve as a pretty decent guide for a newcomer. Another great thing about traveling alone - I couldn't have said that two years ago. :)

Another day at the beach. This time I went to one of the private ones - ie - anyone can go as long as you pay the fee, which is usually 15-35 grivnas (2-5 bucks). It's also cleaner and there are free lounge chairs and umbrellas provided. It. was. lovely. The tan is darker. Love it. :)

So here I sit again, dear reader, still sun drunk and dazed from the beach and refreshed and relaxed from the shower I just took and the dark chocolate I just ate. Mmmmm. . .This is the vacation I was talking about in last week's post. Hassle-free, light, easy peasy lemon squeezy. . .Just relaxing days spent lounging on the beach and walking around the city. Taking in the sights, snapping photos in between bites of tasty locally-made foods like a shaurma, a delicious wrap and staple of Caucasian cuisine, from a street vendor whose brought the people of this city this food from his native country. Mmmm. . .yet again.

Well, time to wrap this up (no pun intended there, I swear!) to continue with a bit of laziness and relaxation before I see what the evening has in store for me. . .

So here I am, dear reader, in Odessa, Ukraine, enjoying the first full day of my vacation having spent basically all of yesterday on the train coming here from Moscow (read: 23-hour ride). 1) It was a good ride, though, 'cause I was able to sleep for about half of it. Yes, I can sleep in trains, planes, and automobiles. Moving beds don't deter me and my sleep. Yes, I'm one of those people. :) 2) To my surprise, the train was also decked out with air-conditioning. This is a luxury and rarity in the former USSR 'cause it's only hot (ie - around 85 F) 2-3 months a year and fall always promptly comes every year in mid-September when temperatures drop to 55 F practically overnight and continue to drop and drop and drop over the following fall and winter months. Hence, I was totally prepared to sweat it out for the duration of the day-long ride in my coupe compartment's top bunk, and if you know me and my loathing of the heat, you'll know this is no small feat for yours truly. 3) My neighbors in the train were also nice and very graciously hared their breakfast of coffee and fruit with me, and because they were Russian, kept offering me food every 2-3 hours when they were eating. I'm gonna miss this aspect of Russian culture - the kind people who are willing to share with strangers. Yes, dear reader, it happens here a lot.

My friend Maria and her husband Zhenya were at the train staton to pick me up when I arrived yesterday evening. Two of the coolest people ever, basically. Then we spent the evening just chilling and talking with some good dinner Maria cooked and of course somne good, cheap local Odessa beer. Today, I woke up early in the morning and made my way down to the beach for some good, quality pre-noon sunbathing in my new bikini. :) Yes, I slathered on the sunscreen, don't worry. :P Let me tell you why I love beaches, esp. Russian/Ukrainian beaches - NO SHAME! I always go and as I'm walking down to the beach, I'm thinking "Hmm, me in a bikini. . .so scantily clad in public. . .I'm not exactly perfect. . .doesn't happen that often. . . just a little uncomfortable. . ." Then *!!BAM!!* Old, overweight lady in nothin' but her bra and underwear! Old, overweight man in a speedo! These first two beach colleagues of mine open my eyes to everyone else so I look around to see a bunch of regular, non-perfect people of all ages, shapes, and sizes. It's just another lesson in how I need not to be so uptight about my looks. It's good to care about how you look like keeping yourself up, but not to be obsessed to where it gets in the way of anything. So there you go - a nice relaxing morning and what do I have to show for it? A nice start to what seems to be shaping up to be an awesome tan and a life lesson. Relaxation for the body and mind/emotions.

Now after a little walking around and a shower at Maria's, I sit here in my already tanned skin (yeah, I'm fast like that - thanks for the genes, dad!) writing to you, dear reader. Everything's a-ok so far in my vacation, my pre-back-to-the-States-relaxation time. :)

I just wanted to let you know, dear reader, that I will be in Ukraine July 3-12, then back in Moscow for about a week, then coming back to the US. No, I haven't bought the plane ticket yet (waiting for some money to transfer to another account) so can't tell you the exact date of arrival, but it should be July 20th or somewhere around there.

I'll be updating this blog about everyday or every other day for the next three weeks (and hopefully will continue with this frequency after US homecoming) in order to let you know of my whereabouts, share my experiences while traveling, and assure you of my safety.

ttyl, brb, lmao, imho, wtf, and all the rest of it :)

Isn't that on a mug in some gift shop somewhere?

So I'm off to Ukraine for a week - July 3-12. Five days lying on the beach in Odessa, three days strolling around Kiev. Yay!

Btw, yes, dear reader, I cut my trip short and am not including the beautiful beaches of Croatia and Montenegro and the over one million still unexploded landmines littering recently re-beautified Bosnia.

Here's the thing - I really believe that a vacation should be just that: a vacation. It's a time to just relax, explore, and generally revel in merriment and not really think too, too much. When I found myself getting frustrated and stressed and just not enjoying the planning of this vacation with all the hotels, train tickets, bus tickets, plane tickets, etc, etc, I just decided I didn't need the stress. Did I mention I'm about to move back to the US in a mere three weeks, saying good bye to the city I've come to call home for the past two years? Despite the fact that this move is much-needed and overall a very, very good thing for my life, I'm still faced with certain responsibilities and their accompanying, nagging fears, which have already presented themselves in the following ongoing tasks that I've already began:


- narrowing down grad schools to apply to in the fall (begun)
- scheduling to re-take and re-studying for my GRE in the fall for said grad school application
- mentally re-acclimating to life in the US (already begun) and will be shortly physically re-acclimating (will begin upon arrival)
- job hunting (begun)
- apartment/house hunting (will begin shortly after arrival)
- taking care of a legal thing (begun)
- time spent inside my head figuring some stuff out (begun)

So yes, dear reader, my life like most other people's is quite busy now. The type of vacation one takes - active with lots of pre-planning or not-so-active with almost no pre-planning - should jive with someone's life at the moment. So if I'm gonna a take a vacation right now when most areas of my life are pretty hectic, I'm gonna opt for the latter and take. a. vacation. Stress-free. Singular-countried. Staying with friends. Lying on a beach and walking around places. Planning-free except for the train ticket and bikini buying. Aaahhhhh.

I would like to point out that I'm planning to visit Europe for a month next summer, hopefully between quitting whatever my future job is and starting grad school, so I'll hit up those world-renowned beautiful beaches of Croatia and Montenegro, walk around beautiful Bosnia hopefully successfully dodging those landmines, and hitting up other European gems I've long desired to set foot in. Yes, dear reader, it'll be one of those aforementioned active-with-lots-of-pre-planning vacations, but for some reason with all the grad school applying/accepting/choosing, job hunting/getting, legal stuff solving, self stuff working on, and house hunting done by then, I think I'll actually have the time. ;)

Some stuff (some very minor, some not) I'm thinking:

- I'm not so into this whole chip idea anymore 'cause I'm not so into chips anymore. Perhaps I'll still collect the bags, but bring the chips to parties, etc, for others to eat. I can't do it, I think, and this is a goooooooooood thing. :)

- I'm gonna more on my bottle collection, as far as collections go.

- I'm gonna miss Moscow, but I'm excited about being back in the US and the work I'm doing and have ahead of me. A little scared, but more excited for the results, growth, etc.

- I love beans.

- I keep forgetting to take my camera with me everywhere. I mean, I wanna take pics of everything in this city - my neighborhood, various streets, parks, drunks, baby goats, drunk baby goats, etc - and you never know when a photo-worthy moment is just around the corner in this city, dear reader. . .

Mmmmmm. . .

Ok, dear reader, if you know me at all - and no, you don't even have to know me that, that well - then you know that I love chips. Ok, maybe love is not strong enough of a word. I adore chips. What can I say? They're my downfall, the weak link in my dietary chain, the Delilah-with-scissors-in-hand to my long, Samson-esque locks. You get the picture.

I love their texture, crunchiness, and in a rare, rare move for the taste buds of yours truly, I like a little bit of the saltiness that accompanies most brands/flavors. And that's what I want to talk about here today in this very post - chip flavors. Even though I consider myself a chip aficionado if you will, I never really paid an extreme amount of attention to the regular, run-of-the-mill American flavors that I was used to back home all my life. I just never paid attention until the move to Mother Russia where the creativity of chip flavors is basically on steroids. I feel as if I've been slapped in the face by them, and boy have they left their indelible mark of cheese or sour cream flavored dust on my cheek. My proof? Well, here's a list of flavors I've encountered here in just Moscow, St. Petersburg, and Kiev alone (some also native to the States, but most not):

Cheese - not "nacho" or "zesty" placed oh-so tantalizingly in front of it, there are no pretensions here
Sour Cream and White Mushroom
Salmon
Red Caviar
Shashlik - a special type of Caucasian grilled meat and onions kinda like bbq, never tried it. I don't eat cow or bovine flavorings.
Chicken - yes, just chicken. The company that makes this flavor just includes a big picture of a whole, roasted chicken on the front, simple yet it works
Greens - the picture shows these parsley-looking veggies that Russians often chop up in salads
Green Onion - no "sour cream and" included before
Sour Cream - no "and onion" included after
Tomato and Mayonnaise - Tastes just like a Sandwich!!! Imported seemingly from some German company. G_d, I love the Germans. They've brought us so much stuff with their methodical creativity. I think we can remember, but move on from what their ancestors did about seventy years ago, right? Btw, this is my personal favorite flavor of all time! I'm just loathe to think I only just found out about it like a week ago by chance at a store near my apartment. No they're all out. Guess who bought 'em out? teehee
Bacon - never tried it. I don't eat pig or porcine flavorings.

As we can see, chip flavors take a direct cue from the country in which they're made. It's not a huge surprise or even something super interesting, but nonetheless something I personally find pretty cool and yes, interesting, even fascinating. It just tickles me. I think I'm gonna collect as many different bags representing flavors starting with Russia, Ukraine, and the Balkans before I leave here next month. Then each country I visit will follow in adding to this collection to make it more than just a thought in my little brainz. :) I have a feeling the American flavors might err on the side of being laborious since we're all fat and lazy and unhealthy and love our junk food so much, right? I'm thinking I'm gonna come home to a task of monumental proportions thanks to so many American food companies pandering to every whim of its 300 million plus consumers; therefore, creating enough variety of flavors to put even the most creative European engineered flavors to shame. Hmm, it's gonna be quantity over quality, methinks. Note to my friends in the States - Be ready to do some serious chip eating to help me with my bad collection.

So while I am a fan of such specifically American chip flavorings as Ranch, Cool Ranch, Spicy Salsa Whatever, and Zesty *insert whatever flavor adjective here*, which I'll be devouring this summer (in small portions, I swear! - have not abandoned 40-lb weight loss so far or adopted healthy lifestyle with yoga, pilates, and walking), I'm gonna have to go with the Eastern European flavors as much personal faves. I mean, c'mon, Tomato and Mayonnaise!!!! Pure genius!!!

Truly the best slap in the face I've ever received.

Well, dear reader, it's official (as in, I've officially, FINALLY made up my mind). . .I'm taking my two-week vacation in July to Ukraine and the Balkans! :)

Specifically, my vacation will be as follows:

- 5 days in Ukraine to see friends - 3 days in Odessa with Maria relaxing on the beach by the Black Sea, sunbathing, etc, then 2 days in Kiev with Anna
- 3 days on the coast of Croatia doing similar swimming, sunbathing, and relaxing on the beach activities
- 3 days on the coast of Montenegro (see Croatia explanation above)
- 1 or 2 days in Sarajevo, Bosnia & Herzegovina - It's supposed to be one of the most interesting, historical cities in Europe where the eastern and western empires met, heavily influenced by the Ottoman Empire. It's supposed to have be significantly rebuilt since the civil war in the former Yugoslavia of recent decades.

All I've gotta do is iron out the details:

- buy the train tickets from place to place
- pick the exact beach town I want to stay at in Croatia and then in Montenegro
- buy a bikini

I love cheap and easy-to-plan vacations. :)

This will also be the second time ever I'm traveling alone (the first time solely for pleasure). I'm soooooooooooo excited!!!!!!!! This is actually not only gonna serve as a fun vacation and time to relax and get away from city life and all that Moscow includes, but will also help aid in my personal growth (it's connected to something I've just embarked on but won't discuss here).

Ok, time to learn how to read and maybe speak a little BCS. :)

So, dear reader, this entry may not be quite Moscow specific, but it's a revelation (I hate that word, but couldn't think of a better one) that I came to now while living here so it's gonna find it's way onto this blog. . .I'm claiming poetic license or whatever.

I've been doing some - ok, a lot of - self analysis lately, and yes, it's been due to a couple of dudes (two ex dudes to be specific). Both of them are obsessed with people who are obsessed with stuff/interests/hobbies. This is something I've realized since the break-ups. I've decided this is not OK. It had an unhealthy affect on me (Thanks, guys). I'm generally not one to blame my problems on others and tend to look for this shite within yours truly, BUT if you're in a long-term monogamous relationship and truly believe that that other person is your partner, then some of him or her is bond to rub off on you, right? I respected their opinions, etc. Sometimes rightly so, but for the most part. . .uh, not.

Basically, for the past three years I've felt like/been made to feel like I wasn't good enough for not being obsessed/totally passionate about/enthralled by one or two extremely specific things. And yes, these things could be anything - traveling, exercise, cooking, my career, underwater f-ing basket weaving. Whatever. But I've come to realize something. Most people aren't like this. Yes, you'll find these obsessed travelers on couchsurfing.org, career enthusiasts at the latest Young Charlottesville Career People (I forgot the name) meeting, or the underwater basket weavers at the latest convention for their thing. That's just not me. You know what. I like stuff. I just like stuff. Not to say that I'm a dabbler, but I have certain stuff in my life - call them activities, hobbies, interests, whatever you want - that I really like to do so I do them. BUT I'll never use the word "love." I'll never call myself an enthusiast. I'll never refer to myself as a devotee. And I'll certainly never say that I'm obsessed with anything. I like these things and will continue to participate in and enjoy them thoroughly until - pay close attention obsessees - I don't. Until I just don't. Then I'll move onto something else.

So here I sit on this same couch coming to you from Moscow telling you, dear reader, that I LIKE STUFF. I don't usually love it. And in my twenty-eight years of Solomon-esque wisdom, I can definitely say to these two guys and to everyone - It's actually kinda weird when someone is obsessed with one thing. I've finally come to peace with not being like World's Bravest/Coolest Traveler or World's Best Blogger or whatever. It's. OK. To. Just. Like. Stuff. You can still respect me even if I'm not obsessed with your latest flavor. And I'm OK with that.

Thanks, dear reader, for sitting through this less-than-poetic semi-rant against certain people, but also to everyone.

Special thanks to Moscow itself for giving me the time and space to figure some stuff out.

So here I sit, dear reader, typing to you from my apartment in Moscow, a city I've never left since I last wrote here, but for some flakey reason or another decided not to write about on this here blog for ages. I suck. I kinda want to apologize profusely for my absence, but the schtick seems old now, don't you think? It's been so long since I've communicated with you here, dear reader, that I feel lacking in excuses and awkward as I squirm on my couch in front of my computer. The only thing I could liken this to would be sitting across from an old friend or an ex whom I haven't seen for a long time while sitting on a hard, cold bench in a park or at a diner or something. So I guess I'm feeling the cyber version of this, which includes the aforementioned big, comfy couch while it excludes face-to-face contact. So really, what am I feeling so weird about? Well, I guess it's the subject matter of this entry that's making my head spin just a little, but after much thought, I figure I might as well just dive in as if I've been here writing the whole time, as if I'm not squirming, as if I don't feel the least bit guilty or strange. Ok, so here's what I'm thinking about now. . .

I was in this cool French bakery/cafe the other day during a long lunch break between classes. I decided to leisurely enjoy some roasted eggplant salad and creamy chicken soup in a bread bowl (mmmmm. . .) in a nice little, out-of-the-way corner table in smoking section (no, I don't smoke, but the ambiance in this particular corner of the restaurant was pretty great). I quickly noticed two older, nicely dressed Russian gentlemen a couple tables over from me. They were talking quite loudly complete with lots of hand gestures sometimes with a cigar in those hands and sometimes without. Very dramatic, indeed. They were clearly good friends using familiar names with each other - one was addressed as Sasha (Alexandr) and the other addressed as Zhenya (Evgeniy). Their conversation consisted heavily of vacillating at a head-spinning pace between giving each other advice ("Wait, Sasha, wait! Here's what you do/what your son should do. . .") and complaining about life past, present, and future. They were drinking vodka, which they brought themselves, which should go without saying, I guess. After all, this is Russia. They smoked, they drank, they ate, they called the waitress over to their table to order more food with some consistency. They did so while calling to her from across the room "Vika! Vika!" No, not even "miss" or "waitress" or anything with even a hint of formality. These two men - these two real Russian men - were gonna behave in this way, and that was it.

So that was what was on my mind just now, dear reader - this memory, which may not be or seem so important, but since it's stuck in my mind for the past week, I figure something was telling me to get it out to someone else and what better place to do that and put it in writing than here? But there is a point here, which is - going to a cafe here and walking away with this kind of observation is a rather common occurrence and so concisely encapsulates a lot of the aspects of this country's culture and interaction with its people - the unsolicited advice giving, the drinking, the eating, the loudness, the informality with anyone around you (esp. after a few drinks), and most importantly the fellowship. It's one of those "only in Russia" moments that I love so much, that made me want to move here in the first place. It's simple stories like this that best capture my answer to that question that I get asked so often by all kinds of people I meet - "So why Russia?" In a nutshell, this is why. :)