I am happy to report that I have arrived in St Petersburg and have had quite the 24 hours. I now realize that despite the two months I spent in the country last summer, I was not quite prepared for the Russian way of life. The building I am living in is charming, in a hodgepodge, eclectic sort of way. The toilet stands alone in a tiny room at the end of the hall, and you must cross the rest of the house to reach the tub where you can wash your hands. The apartment is small and Stalinesque, but cozy all the same, and every spare bit of wall space is covered with the most beautiful artwork. It reminds me of a hostel I stayed in while traveling Colombia, minus some of the more interesting roommates and the 90+ degree weather. The shower and I have already had words… a bit bi-polar that one. I must admit, the abrupt rush of ice cold water just as you have managed to soap up can prove a bit unpleasant, but there are worse things in life. I have discovered that if I close my eyes and imagine that I am showering in a fresh spring, or that I haven’t showered for months, it isn’t quite so bad. I do however have the nicest room in the house and want for nothing. I have no complaints when it comes to the people I have met either; my host family is as sweet and patient as can be. They speak to me only in Russian (as I requested) and even though they can speak English quite well, they allow me to work through what it is I wish to say, and then correct my mistakes. I spent probably close to five hours today at the kitchen table with my Russian dictionary, my notes from class, and my notebook, writing down every useful phrase I came across. I swear my Russian has already improved. Yet if I were to pinpoint my proudest accomplishment thus far it would have to be that I survived my first walking excursion through the streets of wintery St Petersburg. I am happy to report that the weeks that went into finding the right boots were worth every agonizing moment. I ended up with Sorel boots and super thick sheep-skin liners which make me look a bit like a fire-fighter and stand out terribly from the chic stilettos preferred by Russian women, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. As my ice-walking skills pale in comparison, I would much rather slosh through the snow, slush and ice with my utilitarian man-boots, yak tracks and warm toes than try to master the art of digging the heel of your stiletto into the ice for traction. Sometimes it’s nice to be a foreigner. All in all, I have to say I do believe this is going to be a wonderful experience. I think it took the extent of my international travels to prepare for this particular study abroad experience, but I am now confident and independent enough to approach this opportunity with open arms. Signing off from snowy St Pete, this is Megan. Спакойной ночи!

Comments

Leave a Reply




Skip to toolbar