V-Day + B-Day

Valentine’s Day and Alex’s Birthday are only days apart, so he’s lucky I’m such a gift-giver — he got separate presents.

The Russians I asked about Valentine’s Day agreed that it was an imported holiday, so they don’t celebrate it in a big way. Nonetheless, they echoed the common American complaint that giving flowers and cards has gotten old. Guess romantic cliches have outlived their life here, too.

For V-Day in Novgorod we un-veganized one of my favorite recipes, the Post-Punk Kitchen’s pumpkin cranberry risotto. (Not that Russia’s made us completely anti-veg; it’s just that a can of coconut milk costs $5-$7 here, and I’ve only spotted it in Moscow.)

A Russian couple was supposed to join us for dinner, but the girl forgot her documents (dorm visitors have to leave their passports with the front door guards), so we shared our dinner with one of my German floormates.

The hedgehog and the rug I bought from the silver-tongued Turk, Hobama

I gave Alex a slew of little gifts – a pomander, a chocolate egg with a Roman centurion figurine inside, a heart-shaped pressed towel, and M & M’s. (Alex claims M & M’s are not to be found in Moscow, though every street kiosk in Novgorod has them!). And Alex gave me a stuffed hedgehog.  If you don’t get the appeal of hedgehogs, watch this.

Alex’s b-day we spent in Moscow. Since he worked until 8 p.m., he missed out on seeing a production of Gogol’s “The Nose,” which a friend and I saw at the Moscow Theater of Young Spectators. We had some lower-brow fun with him–a basement blini joint where a plate of three thin, greasy blini costs 25 roubles and a cat wandered freely between the patron’s tables to the kitchen. Mmm.

I gave Alex a t-shirt from Novodel, a design botique in Moscow, and a set of plastic Russian soldiers to quell his War Hammer withdrawl.

Now, back to work…until St. Patrick’s Day.

 

Great Baikal Trail talk by Bella Gordon

As promised, audio from the Fulbright Mid-Year Seminar in Moscow.

First, Bella Gordon, a Fulbright student researching environmental management at Lake Baikal in Russia. Bella spoke about the Great Baikal Trail, a non-profit organization that runs 10-day work camps for international volunteers, with work ranging from trail building to translating. You can download her talk here.

 

Russian Massage (Minus the Birch Branches)

I interviewed a young mom last week for my research, and she mentioned getting a massage as something she did when she found time for herself.

I couldn’t resist finding out for myself what relaxations Novgorod had to offer, with the weather slushy and the usual entertainment options–smoky dance halls filled with half-dressed teenagers or beating yourself with damp birch branches in a babushka-filled steam room–far from relaxing.

The mom was generous enough to answer my  off-topic query. She sent me contact information for a facial masseuse ($3 for a 1/2 hour massage!) and an osteopath.

Facial massage I can handle. Even enjoy. But osteopath? In Russia? I have a healthy fear of Russian hospitals, from friends’ study abroad horror stories–hospital beds decked out in leopard-print sheets and duct-taped Adidas sandals for hospital slippers, or prescriptions for drugs that were outlawed in the United States in the 1970s. On the other hand, we have Russian friends in the U.S. who have traveled back to Russia especially to consult with Russian doctors.

What do you think? Should I let myself be palpitated back to health?

 

Train Time

I’m in Moscow for the mid-year Fulbright seminar, which meant an overnight train ride from Moscow. Usually I ride platzcart, 3rd class. The cars are completely undivided, but the tickets are cheap. This time I was treated to a luxurious 4-person coupe — me and three Russian men. I must say, my quickly pessimistic mind went through all the worst scenarios that could take place during the eight-hour journey.

Nothing terrifying happened. To the contrary — one of the men finally asked about my accent, thinking I was German, and then set into a long series of reflections on his travels in Germany and Turkey, the Tao, and the memory of water. He showed me the correct hand positioning for meditating and admonished me when I said I didn’t make any New Year’s resolutions and didn’t know who I wanted to work as.

When I actually talk to my cabin-mates, I sleep a lot better. Who knew.

Tomorrow our seminar starts, so I’ll share what the other Fulbrighters have been up to in their far-flung studies and professorships.