The Journey Thus Far

I’m exhausted, and I humbly admit that this blog is a mess and will be poorly written. But despite this disclaimer, I’m determined to keep track of my adventure this summer. It’s been an incredible however-many-hours so far, and I never want to forget what I am experiencing and the impact it is having on me. Thus, superfluous details that will matter to no one (but me) can be expected. I wish that everyone, particularly Americans, could have such an opportunity, and it is with extreme gratitude to my friends, family, and Vanderbilt University that I begin this blog.

Friday, 16 May

It’s 3:57 in the morning, and for the first time in an incalculable number of hours (due both to time changes and sheer exhaustion) I’m lying in bed. But before the freshness of the past two-ish days’ events fades, I want to document my journey thus far.

Thursday morning, bright and early, I left Nashville for Atlanta. While going through security, two things happened: First, three different TSA officers called me “Little Vandy,” so I guess I earned a new nickname. Second, and more intriguing, one of the officers asked where I was going, so I told him about the Vanderbilt trip to Russia. In response to hearing my destination, he simply said, “Are you Jewish? If so, just lie and say no!” The tone of his voice was nonchalant and cautionary all at once, and he kind of chuckled while he spoke, so I tried to just laugh it off, too, figuring it would be a horrible idea to start talking politics and/or religion with a TSA officer. (He did go on to wish me a good trip and to say, “до свидания,” to which I replied, “спасибо.”) But what he said was significant, because it’s exactly these attitudes and preconceptions, including my own, that I will finally get to examine as an individual on Russian soil, without the biases and agenda of American media. As John Mayer sings, “When you trust your television/ What you get is what you got / ‘cause when they own the information/ Oh, they can bend it all the want.”

Anyway, from Nashville to Atlanta nothing noteworthy happened. When I got to Atlanta, I had a five-hour layover, which was spent walking around the incredible mall-like international terminal and sneaking all the free samples of food I could before I actually had to break down and buy lunch. At one point, a lady came up to me speaking Spanish; she needed help, and she thought I looked Argentinian. :) We talked for a few minutes in Spanglish, and when she left, she gave me a hug with a kiss on the cheek in true Latin American fashion and said, “Ciao!” Between this moment and the part of the day I spent at the gates for flights to Duesseldorf and Frankfurt so I could listen to people speaking German, it had begun to feel as if I’d already left the country.

From Atlanta, I flew overnight to Amsterdam, which was an additionally neat experience, being surrounded by Dutch people (who, of course, spoke perfect English) and trying to decipher what people were saying, as there are many similarities with both German and English. I barely slept on this flight, partly because it seemed like every time I fell asleep the flight attendants were either pushing more food onto us or eagerly hoping for our trash—neither of which, I suppose, is actually a bad problem to have.

I got into Amsterdam around 8:30 in the morning, which allowed for a stunning aerial view of the beautiful city with all its quaint red roofs, and David, a Russian professor at Vanderbilt and the leader of the trip, was there to retrieve me. Shortly after I flew in, the last person in our group arrived, and then the whole gang—all six of us—was there. We wandered around the airport, stopped as a group for poffertjes (mini Dutch puff pancakes; so good!), and ended up all napping in various locations on the upper level of the airport, where there’s an area with reclining chairs and meditative, Enya-like music for weary travelers who want to sleep. The best part was that people actually respected the intentions of the space and were quiet. It was really “zen,” but also really practical! This is now my favorite airport, hands down.

After a short nap, we headed to the terminal to catch our flight to Moscow. Suddenly, one could hear Russian being spoken all over the place. The flight was fine—slept most the way—and this was my first experience with Russian hospitality. When they served us lunch, I realized I would be very well-fed during my stay…

When we got into Moscow, it was a little disorienting, as everything suddenly became very real--we were actually in Russia! It was also interesting to think that, several months back, this was the airport where Edward Snowden took refuge.

A Marina from the American Home, the institution hosting our stay, met us at the airport and drove us by van to Vladimir, where we will be staying. Because of the infamous Moscow traffic, a trip of approximately three hours turned into a trip of approximately eight hours. It was a good opportunity to catch up on lost sleep and also to see beautiful Russian landscapes. All was very picturesque!

We were supposed to arrive at 22:00, but that ended up being more like 02:30. I was the third person in the group to get dropped off with my host family, and I was extremely nervous. It was the middle of the night, and I was struggling to memorize the long, unwieldy word for “hello” in Russian. I also feared that I wouldn’t live up to the expectations of my host—that I wouldn’t fit the image of a typical American. (Sure enough, the young Russians I’ve met so far have a really impressive knowledge of American media and are way more pop-culture-savvy than me.)

My host is named Lena, and she’s a 20-year-old university student, which is cool because we can really relate despite the fact that we’ve grown up on different continents, in different cultures, and have never before been to each others’ country. Her English is great, and she’s an outstanding host—very kind and hospitable and eager to share her culture with me and to learn about mine.

Also hosting me are Lena’s mom, Irina, who works as a child psychiatrist, speaks a bit of English, and is an amazing cook; Iliya, her 22-year-old brother who’s currently on vacation from his duty as a sailor in the Russian military; and their 17-year-old cat Bonnie (“Like Bonnie and Clyde!”), who, I’m convinced, meows with an accent.

Lena also has another older brother—whose wife is expecting a baby and who is also currently in the Russian military, fulfilling his obligatory year of service in the army—and an older sister, Marina, whom I met today with her cute 6-year-old daughter Sophia/Sonya. :)

Lena and I stayed up until nearly 04:00 this first night, talking and eating the birthday cake she had prepared for me, complete with a big “21” candle, and she gave me a pretty thorough run-down of the Russian alphabet.

Saturday, 17 May

Today, Lena and I both slept in late before she made a huge, delicious breakfast/brunch, complete with the pizza she had made for my arrival the night before—half with cheese, half without!—and the best-tasting tea I’ve ever had in my life. We watched some Russian TV before heading out, as it’d been raining and we needed to wait for the weather to clear up a bit, anyway.

Lena took me around Vladimir, showing me the various sights, taking us inside museums, and adding her own commentary to the history of the city that's on display literally every step you take. There are some gorgeous spots that offer panoramic views, and there's an aptly-named restaurant--Panorama--for those who want to wine and dine whilst overlooking the town.

The main spot in the city center is called the Golden Gates. It's actually just one gate now, but it's still referred to in the plural at least locally. It's basically, well, a big gate that used to be the entrance to ancient Vladimir. It served as a fortress, with large walls surrounding it to keep out intruders. It's majestic and golden as the name would imply, and it towers over just about everything else in town. The Golden Gates were largely ruined by the Mongolian invasion centuries back. We've learned that pretty much every story of destruction in Vladimir is the result of this invasion, and so we regularly remark, tongue-in-cheek with finger snap included, "Those Mongols!"

Lena also took me in a shop to check out some traditional Russian crafts before we went into a cafe. This was my first encounter with a Russian menu and also with a cute Russian boy. We plan to return to this cafe. :) Also, I was really impressed by their simple but great vanilla-apple iced tea. This combination would be easy enough, but I've never seen anything like it back in the States. Plus, there was real fruit--apple slices--not just flavored syrup like everything back home, and it's sad how exciting that was.

Next, Lena and I went to the local mall and walked around, headed back to her place, watched more Russian TV, including the Russian version of Who Wants to be a Millionaire? (which even uses the same sound effects/intro tune as the US version), and then I took a nap until her friend Kristina came over. Lena texted me when she arrived, so I woke up, stumbled out into the kitchen, was greeted and summarily asked if I’d like some handmade Georgian vodka (from Georgia the country, where Lena’s family has relatives). Uncertain and scared of strong Eastern European drinks, I nevertheless accepted, and it made me feel better that Lena, too—who doesn’t like hard liquor either—thought it was pretty gross and used some sort of Russian fruit to get rid of the taste. I have now, thankfully, fulfilled my obligation to drink vodka while in Russia. From here on out, tea it shall be (mostly).

Not long after, we walked to the corner store, where we met up with Lena’s long-time friend Gleb, to buy some beer and snacks. (Like I said, *mostly* tea; “we’re not in Kansas anymore”!) We came back to Lena’s apartment, where the three of us sat and talked for a few hours, eating and drinking, before Kristina had to leave and Irina went to bed. For several more hours, Gleb, Lena, and I continued talking. Gleb’s a really sweet though shy guy, and he and I were able to converse a lot, thanks to Google Translate. The three of us talked about everything, including politics, which was really fascinating, and finally we called it a night around 03:30.

Also noteworthy: During this time Lena’s brother Iliya returned with a friend of his (whose name I unfortunately can’t recall), and the two of them drank vodka, toasting “to meeting Monika, and to love”—Iliya’s friend is single. The guy didn’t really speak any English, but, using Lena as a hesitant interpreter, managed to get his point across quite clearly. :P I can now add “hit on by Russian male” to my list of experiences.

Tomorrow—I should say “today,” as it’s already 05:30—is the Vanderbilt group’s first activity; we all had a free day today to rest and get acquainted with our hosts, but now we will visit Suzdal, a neighboring town and the previous joint capital (along with Vladimir) of ancient Rus—basically, Russia before it was called Russia. I’m not sure what all we’ll be doing, but it’s more exciting that way anyway.

In the evening, the American Home will host a potluck party to welcome our group and to introduce us to some of the Russian students learning English at the Home as well as to each others’ host families. My host, Lena, won’t be able to make it, though, so afterward she’ll come pick me up—with the help of Iliya’s friend, who has a car and offered to pick us up and show us around Vladimir, with Lena serving as interpreter. Persistent, but he gets points for cleverness!

The American Home.

At this point, I’ll stop, and I’ll fill in more details later when I get a chance. Forgive the disjointed nature of this blog and its inherent messiness. It’s painful to write and probably even more painful to read, but that’s why I started off with a disclaimer. ;)