A much needed update

Time has really flown by, and I haven't been very good about updating the blog. But better to be out enjoying the city rather than sitting online all the time, right? I have little more than a week left, and am both sad and a bit relieved. Every day in Russia presents its own minor challenges (which I'm happy to say I'm taking in stride more and more), so it will be nice to be home. But now comes the inevitable attempt to buy souvenirs and mementos in an attempt to bottle up the experience to keep it in a tangible form.

I haven't really said much about what's been going on in Moscow, since I spent two weekends in a row out of town. The overnight trains took a lot out of me, so it was hard to catch up on sleep, which meant a lot of my free time was dedicated to just relaxing. The week between St. Pete and Kazan was mostly spent in my dorm room, listening to NPR podcasts and working on a fingerless convertible glove-mitten I'm making. After 5 hours in the classroom, and being around the same group of people almost constantly, it does one good to get some alone time. I feel kind of guilty for not "making the most" of my time, and sitting around knitting, but I needed the relaxation, and needed to do something that didn't really involve the Russian language.

That said, I really am learning a lot and feel like I speak better than ever before. My conversation partner (assigned to me by the program, but a sweet girl who just finished her BS in physics) even noticed that after two weeks of not seeing each other my language had improved. And for all that we complain about the methodology the faculty here use (they don't quite understand the goals we have in our Russian classes in the US), I have learned a lot about teaching. It's been truly wonderful to be around a people with so much variety in their experience, and to always have someone to talk to about teaching certain topics, or how to break up the monotony of grammar exercises. Even just talking to each other to figure out why WE are being taught a certain way is useful. We started a new class on word formation that started out as really dull and repetitive, but by talking it over a few times, I feel like I understand both the pros and cons of the methods really well, and know how I would change things. I've also taken the opportunity to gather a small library of books on various topics in Russian grammar, and lots of exercises to supplement the textbooks used in the class. It's kind of sad that I won't be teaching Russian in the fall, and probably not in the spring either. But I'm sure this program will help me in my linguistics TAing in the fall, too.

There's lots of things I want to tell you all about. The things that make being in Russia a unique experience. The challenges that make daily life just trying enough to wear you down over time. Part of it is surely just being in a different place. But there are a few themes me and my groupmates keep going over and over. One is the fact that you're always being watched. This isn't just the dezhurnaya checking on us in the kitchen to make sure we're not eating and that we're cleaning up (oh, they're still doing that from time to time). It's the fact that people will come up and comment on your behavior. Or stare at you. Or tell you you're not allowed to do certain things. On the metro escalator, there is a person whose job is to sit in a booth and watch you as you go up or down. You can't put anything on the space in between escalators, or you get yelled at. You can't sit down on the steps, or you get yelled at.

It's also trying to use a big bill. The bank gives out 1000 rouble notes on a regular basis, but there is always a problem trying to use them. You will almost always be asked to look and see if you have a smaller bill. It's not improbable that you will not be able to buy your selection if you don't have exact change. And yet it's not acceptable to question this (especially not the cashier you're dealing with); it's just a fact of life. The onus is on the consumer to get small bills. This makes splitting restaurant checks a real nightmare! I guess what this all comes down to is that you end up feeling powerless and out of control. For a lot of Westerners and Americans, that is a really uncomfortable way to live. When you go to a restaurant, you expect them to have everything on the menu available. And if they are out of something, they should show remorse. But not in Russia. Instead they make you feel bad for asking. It's certainly getting better, and the people here are friendlier than I've ever seen before. But this is still an enigmatic, mysterious place. And all you can do is try to solve the riddle.