[Author's Note -- Well! Have a look at that! -- The 100th Journal here in Russia! I feel as though I've hit some kind of milestone. *laughs*
I'd say that there should be cake, or something, but I'm quite sure that I've had enough bread, baranki, and sushki in the past 30+ hours to fill the same post…
I'm currently writing this from Sochi, so the next two journals will be re-caps, catching up to the present, where I am sitting in our hotel room, working on this journal, until dinner time.
Love! -- MK -- =^_~= ]
4-25-10
Today's the day we left for Sochi, Russia!! For anyone unfamiliar with the name of that city, it is a city in the south of Russia, which will host the 2014 Winter Olympics.
We weren't set to meet up until 9:15 PM, so I had the whole day to myself, to run errands, settle business, etc. before leaving Moscow.
I was thoroughly surprised this morning, however, to see that I didn't wake up until sometime after 11:00 AM -- for anyone who does the math off of when I went to bed (the end of the last journal), this means that I slept for about 7 hours!!!! This is a very big deal, for me! And when I realized what time it was, when I awoke, I did so with something of a, "What on Earth??" expression about myself -- being confused as to how I could possibly have slept so much. My confusion was compounded by the sheer fact that in the last month, my old sleeping problems slipped back to me, so I have been getting even less sleep than usual.
Suffice it to say, I was pleased that I had finally managed to exhaust myself to the point of needing 7 hours of sleep (over 4 or 5, for example), I was twice as pleased to have actually GOTTEN said needed rest, and I was perfectly satisfied with the time that remained to me in the day in which to do my errands, before my group's departure for Sochi.
I had a lazy, unhurried morning; and as I was getting ready for the day, I invited Nastëna to come on my errands with me, but alas, she had more tests to prepare for. I wished her luck; she wished me a beautiful trip, and I'm to write to her upon my return. Throughout the afternoon, I actually had a few text messages from some of my Marine friends, which were also full of well-wishes for my trip, and instructions to write upon my return. All the goodwill, and, "Write me when you are back!" messages put many, many smiles on my face -- what can be better than to have friends wishing you well, and awaiting your return? =^___^= I am a very beloved girl -- I am so thankful!!!!
My errands today were supposed to be pretty simple --
1. Go Exchange/Return Jazz Sneakers + Latin Shoes
2. Go buy a few notebooks (for Sochi), and some new pens [from a bookstore]
3. Get Groceries
4. Get Cash
5. Pack
6. Get Online one last time, if there's time
Everything was in that order, so that I could head out to my farthest destination and work my way back to home base, as it were. Being that I left at 2, and my "drop-dead" time to be walking out of my apartment for the group rendezvous was 8:30 PM, I figured I was in for an easy day.
Trust it to me, however, that while I'm extraordinarily fortunate, and even lucky, in some respects; when Fate and Luck decide to have a little fun at my expense, it can make Life interesting!!! Thus, enter things like the following:
At the Dance Shoes store:
1. There really weren't any other Jazz Sneakers for me to buy (and every other pair was over 100 dollars, anyway!!
-- But this is ok -- it's better for me to buy a [CHEAPER] pair or two online, for when I'm back in the US.
2. Subsequently, returns of money at the shoe store are only possible Monday through Friday!
-- But whether it be because I was going to Sochi for such a time, or I'm a foreigner -- who knows -- one of the ladies decided to do my refund for the jazz sneakers that day for me!!
So, that's two strokes of good Fortune and Luck for me!
Continuing the Journey:
When I left the dance store, it was *bitterly* cold, and started to rain… I bemoaned the cold and *wet,* to myself, and thought, "At this temperature, I'd almost rather it be *snowing* -- just so I wouldn't be wet!" … And wouldn't you know that the wind chilled things up enough for it to be snowing/hailing (little, little pieces) on me!!!
About this time, I got a text message from the Magnificent Mulzoff [my Ninja Rolls teacher, if you've forgotten], who asked me how I was doing. I responded honestly: 'Cold!! And I'm getting SNOWED on!' -- His response began, "Snowing?! It's only raining here -- oh wait, it just started snowing." -- I about died laughing in the street!!
At the Bookstore:
I'm not sure why I've never learned this lesson -- maybe because the "negative feedback" isn't horrendously "negative" to me -- but you CANNOT let me in a BOOKSTORE without me leaving with armfuls of books!!! Can. Not. Do it. !!!!! Ha ha ha ha!!!
I went to the store only buy two little copy books and some new pens. That mission, I accomplished with no trouble at all… But the day or so before, I'd had a momentary remembrance of book titled, "Harris and Me," by Gary Paulsen, that I quite wanted to have in my possession, and to read again. I thought, 'It couldn't possibly do any harm to go look for this book…' Thus I went upstairs and found my way into the Foreign Language section -- where my last encounter with the very same left me walking away with two tomes of Oscar Wilde held fast in my arms…!
As Fate and Luck would have it, to paraphrase the great Mr. Hitchcock, Dom Knigi (World of Books) did NOT have "Harris and Me." A sad event -- although, I wasn't all that surprised, really. … However, the search station is located right in front of the "Wall of Classics," (about which I wrote in my last journal concerning this Bookstore) -- and so, it was there that I was left standing… … As you might be able to imagine, it didn't take long for Alexander Dumas', "The Three Musketeers," and, "The Count of Monte Cristo," in addition to Victor Hugo's, "Notre Dame de Paris," (AKA, in English, "The Hunchback of Notre Dame") to be plucked from the shelves and clasped to my bosom!!
It is obvious I am wanting for some French influence, maybe? *laughs*
Remarking it myself, that the books I had selected were all French, in origin, I asked to be directed to the French section of the foreign language department, so that I might also pick up the tomes in their original languages. This would at once provide for my own person: the books as they were originally meant to be read (without the influence of a translator); practice / instruction for my own French skills [which I fear for, more and more, every day]; and a challenge for said French skills as well as for my own person! (And do you know, that it is said that we learn more in a [foreign] language through reading, than by any other method?)
It is at this point, however, that Fate and Luck stepped in to stop me from endangering myself anymore in that bookstore into which they had introduced me today. They not only made sure that no non-abridged version of "The Count of Monte Cristo" was to be found, they also caused any work of Molière's (which I have wanted to read) to fly from the shelves, and in the mortal blow, they allowed me to realize that each French form of the books in my arms cost 3-4 times more than its English counterpart!!! Being a poor student, and knowing that I was splurging on the books in the first place I thus resolved to have a bit of patience, and buy the French forms of the books (hopefully for cheaper) either online or in the US, and to bring them back with me to Russia. (Although, it must be said that the English forms of the books are rather cheap here in Moscow, and pleasingly so! -- To the point that I am sure more will find their way into my possession before too long…)
-- It is clear that Fate and Luck will still get to laugh at me, in the end, however, as I am beginning to amass a small library here in Moscow, which will, at some point in time, have to venture back to the States, in some manner or another… I am beginning to think shipping companies will be contacted before my time in Russia is over…
On Foot, Again:
With my new notebooks, pens, and trifecta of French Literature; in addition to my newly exchanged (better fitting) Latin Shoes, I headed out for the last, real errand of the day (the grocery shopping) -- and walked out of the door of the store to see that it was raining cats and dogs, to use a modern American idiom.
Ahh, to be the amusement for a Cast of Characters such as those who are constantly watching over us and bless us so often. =^___^= ''
Once again, it hailed for a bit, giving me a reprieve from the rain, but then it switched back for my last few minutes to the Metro. The weather has been, without a doubt, absolutely, unrepentantly awful these last few days in Moscow. Cold, rainy, and sometimes snowy or hail-y, if the manner of wind is sufficiently brutal enough. It is weather with this kind of personality that makes me almost happy to be journeying to Sochi -- although when I last saw the weather forecast, it is only supposed to be in the middle 60s (F) -- so it really may not be so much better there than it was in Moscow, before this streak of distempered weather hit…
Grocery Shopping:
Is so boring and uncomplicated an event that it should not have been anything of interest to Fate and Luck; and I shall not deign to bore you with it, either!
*****
Thus, I made it home, packed my bags, and set my room in order -- as one should never leave on a trip with a messy room!
(Thank you, Nana, for imparting such practical advice unto me! -- Not that my parents never said, "Clean your room," -- nothing of the sort!! -- It just so happens to be that the brunt of my travel advice has naturally come from my Nana, who either by sheer, living example or through her own blood, had imparted to me in my own life a deep, irresistible love of travel.)
Just as I'd planned, I finished packing with enough time to go run to Coffee House for a half hour or so, so that I could be back to grab a few last-minute things out of the apartment, and walk out at my planned time of 8:30 PM. I'd intended to check my mail one last time, as well as to try to post some new journals online before my departure for Sochi.
I suppose that I should have realized, that on this day, above all others, every time I mentioned or even so much as felt any word related to "intent," that I would be inviting Fate and Luck to throw a little something extra into my path…
At Coffee House, that "little something extra" took the form of a sweet-as-could-be little girl, of maybe 9 or 10 years, and her papa. Seeing me working, online, on my laptop, they proceeded to ask me how I managed to get access to the free Wifi link. Apologizing for my lack of Russian knowledge, I tried to help them find the connection, but unfortunately, nothing I did seemed to help. Somehow, while the initial desire was not gained, our link was not severed, and I continued to converse with the father, and the little girl.
I believe the initial spur which kept us conversing had to do, naturally with the fact that I was not fluent in Russian -- thus, where was I from, and what was I doing there? My revelation that I was American surprised the man some, as he had thought I might, perchance, hail from the Pre-Baltics, given my accent. This revelation, of course, was amusing to me, for the sheer fact that I am always interested in learning the next place someone might guess me to be from. Especially, lately, as it relates to my accent -- as that alone has now identified me as: American, Polish, and Pre-Baltic!!!
My revelation that I was also studying ballroom dance led to the information that this man's daughter was studying Ballet (which I would love to do!) -- so we all had a nice chat about the dancing for a bit.
Sometime in the middle of everything else in our conversation, I learned that the little girl's name is Nastya (Anastasia), the man's name was Vladimir, and Vladimir's wife is German (or at least, she speaks the language fluently), and works as a professional translator/interpreter for a living. He and Nastya also mentioned that Nastya was studying English -- and I got the impression that they would maybe like for me to converse with her or help tutor her!! They told me to get a hold of them when I got back from Sochi -- and wouldn't you know it, we are practically neighbors!!! I believe they live one building over from us, and they know my host family!! Nastya was so excited to learn that I know Polina and Bonnie (the family dog)!!
Now, it can certainly be said that all of this was quite charming, that the conversation was very enjoyable, and that I was quite pleased to have met both Nastya and Vladimir -- but I was also somewhat pressed for my time, and as a consequence of this particular chance rendezvous I both got no work online finished and did not leave the premises of the Coffee House until 8:32!!
If my gentle reader will remember that I had intended to be walking out the door of my apartment to meet with my group two minutes before that very time, he may understand, somewhat, my distress upon seeing the time!
*****
Enter a bit of a mad-dash back home, a last minute snatch-and-grab effort once inside, and a final sprint back towards the door, which marked my departure for the Train Station, for the trip to Sochi!!
I may still have been on-time, had I not arrived at my first Metro platform, only to see the train just beginning its motion away from the station.
'Surely it will not be *too* much of a problem,' I thought to myself. 'After all, it can only be, at most, 4 or 5 minutes until the next train...'
A wait of four or five minutes, when one is afraid of being late -- or worse still, left behind -- may induce at least the beginnings of a sweat in even the finest man or woman. Can you imagine, then, being left to wait for seven minutes???
I must confess, I was about having kittens.
(Another example of a fine, American idiom there. Although, it is by no means intended to be a pun off of my own Moniker.)
Luck and Fate being on my side -- in spite of their teasing manner towards me throughout the day -- delivered me safely to the train station, and my group, only four minutes behind schedule, and not last. (The latter certainly being the most important point when arriving, late, to a group, no?)
*****
Again, I will spare the non-exciting details of moving a caravan of students through a train station, and onto said train -- save that it happened, and without incident, which is the best manner of success, in the case of a large group.
It was late in the evening (past 9:15), so most of the train was darkened at the time we embarked, and we did our best to settle in quietly. This fair amount of quietness ended at the next stop, however, when we met Valentine! (Pronounced: "Val-en-teen")
Valentine was 55 years of age, if I remember correctly; born and raised in Georgia; with two grown sons who were living in Moscow. He hadn't heard any English spoken in over 30 years, and said that he had never met an American -- if he had, the meeting also belonged to that time, "over thirty years ago."
He took great delight in chatting with myself, Annie, and Svetlana (the tutor of one of the Academic year students) [and the three of us were in the same train compartment with Valentine] -- and we, in turn, were much amused chatting with him.
At length, Valentine questioned us about our ages -- wouldn't you know that he would also guess that I was only around 16 or 17!? I had thought that I was finally loosing some of my 'baby-faced-ness,' but it seems that I have been mistaken! When Valentine found out my real age, the thought immediately came to him, that he might put me into touch with his eldest son, in Moscow!! -- Why does this always seem to happen to me?? *laughs* I had thought that he was simply joking, being amused at seeing if any color would rise in my face; but I overheard him on the phone with one of his sons, at one point, talking about us American girls, that he had met!!
Fear not, however, that anything should have come from this meeting and teasing -- we exchanged no actual contact information; and I don't expect that I shall be running into Valentine's sons anytime soon.
I *did* however, wind up having Valentine sign into my newly-beloved tome, "The Three Musketeers," his name, patronymic, and last name, as he had provided me with a most-excellent phrase, which I thought all of my family and friends at home might enjoy, and think often of me in regards to it:
"He who loves sweets has a good soul." ["Кто любит сладкое, у того душа добрая."]
I love this phrase from top to bottom, and everywhere in between; however, I love it more in Russian. It seems to me that there is something much more profound about it in Russian -- maybe it is because the word "dobraya" can be taken in so many different ways (good, kind, etc.).
Valentine uttered this phrase as I explained to him, "In the United States, we say, if someone loves candy and sweets, we say that they have a, "sweet tooth." As I love sweets *so* much, I always joke that all of my teeth are sweet teeth!" At that, he shook his head and told me that he had a much better phrase for me, and made a present of the phrase you have already read by this point.
As you may well see, yet again, Fate and Luck have not failed to provide me with an interesting character to meet, upon my travels, as they have always done!!!
*****
Eventually, time passed on to a later hour, upon which the train truly was plunged into darkness, and we all crawled into our separate bunks. It was at this point that I took advantage of my pre-packed Mag-Lite, and my newest printed edition, "The Three Musketeers," and began to read! … As excited as I was about the story, however, I could only make it through the first chapter before Fatigue hunted me down, and claimed a victory over my person. I swore my vengeance would be taken the next day, in the daylight, where I would continue the adventures of the youth d'Artagnan, and his friends, Athos, Porthos, and Aramis!
[And now, this humble author begs the forgiveness of her humble audience -- for you might see, if you have made it to the end of this journal, the effect of reading Alexander Dumas has had upon my own writing. Namely, that it's gone quite after his own hand, and called forth quite a few of my favorite, though modernly-unfashionable, words and phrasings. If you have suffered through this journal, and suffered through my whirlwind affair with M. Dumas to this point, you have my thanks, my gratitude, and the promise that I will *try* to make my next journal less flowery, next to this one. … Still, if you will allow me a slight moment of self-pride, and vanity, I dare say that this journal makes for an awfully good read, when it comes with such stylings as M. Dumas and his Musketeers inspire…!
--- MK ]
