A Great End To A Great Summer
This past three months, since the end of lessons on the 31st of May, has been without a doubt the most relaxing three months that I've been able to spend in a long, long time, since the summer after ninth grade of high school. I've spent the time in Chisinau with friends from Peace Corps and, when in the village, sleeping ten to twelve hours a night as well as eating, reading (fourteen books in total), and going for walks around our lake. I've also been lucky enough to travel quite a bit, going to Istanbul, Odessa, and, in my last two weeks, to Moscow for the fourth time. It was, in short, just about the perfect way to end one of the best summers that I can remember having.
As I wrote about in my last, abbreviated entry, I left for Moscow on August 16th, taking a bus for a day and a half. My friends were there to meet me at the bus-station in Moscow and after talking with them (whom I hadn't seen in sixteen months) for a few hours before going to my friends apartment for a night in Moscow discos; finding a decent one was a story in-itself. At the first we went to we were straight up denied, told we couldn't come in (they call it 'face-control'). At the second the guard told my buddy (as a group of Germans, then French came by) that the place was just for tourists, that the place was just full of prostitutes, and that the 800 ruble – 33 dollar – cover was a little steep. The third was closed. At the fourth there was a huge crowd of people all massed around the door while a man with a headset let in people at his whim, seemingly without order - or course, he would let in four beautiful girls, then a few minutes later two beautiful girls and two guys, then three beautiful girls with one guy, then two more beautiful girls. You get the picture. And needless to say, my friend and I didn't try to push our luck. But finally, at fifth place, we found success – it was the place I wrote about last time where I talked to two American girls from the US Embassy in Moscow as well as the three Scottish guys. Went to bed at 7:00 AM and woke up at 2:00 in the afternoon (there are few things more drab than going to bed at 7:00 in the morning and seeing people, while were walking into the apartment to go to sleep, leaving to go to work).
I spent the next eight to nine days in a town called Dmitrov, located about forty miles north of Moscow and the same town where I was lucky enough to live for ten weeks two years ago. I actually slept and spent a lot of time with another family in a town a few miles south of there, a family whom I really consider to be on-par with my own in America. I was basically around those two cities for the whole of my trip with the exception of Tuesday night and Wednesday during the day, when I spent the whole time walking around the center of the city with the younger sister in the family where I stayed as well as two other girls (I'll post pictures in a week, when I'm back in Chisinau). During the days I rested (especially after I came down with a cold in the middle of the week) and in the evenings I would go to the center of Dmitrov and hang out with friends there, people whom I really consider to be some of my best friends in the world but with whom, unfortunately, I'm able to meet with only once a year or so. It was a great time, the almost-perfect trip, an ideal combination of relaxation and festivities.
Making this trip especially comfortable was having, finally, knowledge of the language there. I really can't describe how much better it was to be there and to understand conversations and dialogs and questions, as opposed from knowing nothing at all during my previous excursions. Quickly after arriving I realized just how much better it would be when I was waiting for the bathroom at a restaurant in Moscow when a man came up to me and, in just one word, asked if it was occupied. Now, in the past I would have been in a state distress if this man had not used one of the fifteen or so Russian words I knew at the time – I likely would have said, “I don't know” (my staple response to an un-understood question), which would have led to another question, and it would have snowballed from there. This time, however, I was simply able to say, “Yes, there's a man there.” End of story. It was also just great to get in with the family (like I said, I consider them to really be my second family) and to be able to communicate with them directly, without the aide of a translator or anything like that. Within minutes of my arriving we sat down for dinner, I poured out the bottle of our home-made wine that I brought from Moldova and the grandma started to make a toast. She said a few words then furrowed her brow a little before turning to the oldest daughter and asking, “He understands?”, and upon receiving an affirmative answer, continued in her toast.
It was also a lot of fun to get in and communicate with my friends in their native language, although it should be noted that all my friends there speak English better than I speak Russian – there is no doubt about that. But at the very least my new-found (for them) language skills brought them a sense of comfort, that if they were tired and didn't want to speak English they really didn't have to, or that they could leave me alone for stretches of time in Moscow knowing that I likely wouldn't have any real problems.
I have two little stories of just how nice it was to finally be able to speak Russian in Russia. The first came one day when I was making some coffee and, after spilling some milk, I asked the grandma there where a rag was. She pointed it to me, waited a pause, then said with a small smile, “how good it is that you know the word 'rag'.” The second story happened when, on my first Sunday night, I was in the center talking to some people and there was a girl there whom I've known for two years now and always really liked a lot but could never really talk with. When I arrived she turned to me and said, “Hello!,” in English – which I answered in English – before she continued on with her conversation with another friend. After a little she asked another girl about me and the girl answered that I speak Russian and she could just talk to me. So the first girl turned to me and asked why I greeted her in English, so in Russian I said, “If someone starts a conversation with me in English, of course I answer in English. If the conversation starts in Russian, I answer in Russian.” She had a priceless look of awe painted on her face.
At the end of my trip I was lucky enough to buy an early ticket and, thus, have a spot on a train from Moscow to Chisinau. I was in a compartment with three other people, two women from Transnistria – the breakaway part of Moldova that's basically ruled by Russia – as well as the eight-year old daughter of one of the women. They were very kind and warm to me, terrified that I wasn't eating enough (no matter how much I ate) and put in a state of horror when I coughed once. On the road home we actually had to travel through Transnistria, something we American's are not supposed according to the US Embassy here, and I was a little worried about that, despite reassurances from friends who have taken the same route. However, when the guards came on they simply took the eighty-cent transit fee from me – which they took from everyone – and glanced at my passport for literally two seconds before moving on.
I got to Chisinau on Monday and my goal was to go home Tuesday, as I arrived too late to get home Monday evening. However, I received a text message from my friend inviting me to go to his regional center for 'храм' – day of the city – so I took went up there last Tuesday for the party and finally came home this last Wednesday, fifteen days after I left.
Now, it's time to start up with classes again in school. On Saturday we have a little ceremony in the morning to kick-off things, then we'll all go home around 11:00 in the morning. Sunday's a free day and finally, on Monday morning, we start for real. On one hand it'll be tough to get back into the cycle but on the other hand, it'll be nice to get back to doing the work that really brought me to Moldova. Plus, everyone says that the second year goes by twice as fast as the first year.
So I'll be home in America before I know it . . .
As I wrote about in my last, abbreviated entry, I left for Moscow on August 16th, taking a bus for a day and a half. My friends were there to meet me at the bus-station in Moscow and after talking with them (whom I hadn't seen in sixteen months) for a few hours before going to my friends apartment for a night in Moscow discos; finding a decent one was a story in-itself. At the first we went to we were straight up denied, told we couldn't come in (they call it 'face-control'). At the second the guard told my buddy (as a group of Germans, then French came by) that the place was just for tourists, that the place was just full of prostitutes, and that the 800 ruble – 33 dollar – cover was a little steep. The third was closed. At the fourth there was a huge crowd of people all massed around the door while a man with a headset let in people at his whim, seemingly without order - or course, he would let in four beautiful girls, then a few minutes later two beautiful girls and two guys, then three beautiful girls with one guy, then two more beautiful girls. You get the picture. And needless to say, my friend and I didn't try to push our luck. But finally, at fifth place, we found success – it was the place I wrote about last time where I talked to two American girls from the US Embassy in Moscow as well as the three Scottish guys. Went to bed at 7:00 AM and woke up at 2:00 in the afternoon (there are few things more drab than going to bed at 7:00 in the morning and seeing people, while were walking into the apartment to go to sleep, leaving to go to work).
I spent the next eight to nine days in a town called Dmitrov, located about forty miles north of Moscow and the same town where I was lucky enough to live for ten weeks two years ago. I actually slept and spent a lot of time with another family in a town a few miles south of there, a family whom I really consider to be on-par with my own in America. I was basically around those two cities for the whole of my trip with the exception of Tuesday night and Wednesday during the day, when I spent the whole time walking around the center of the city with the younger sister in the family where I stayed as well as two other girls (I'll post pictures in a week, when I'm back in Chisinau). During the days I rested (especially after I came down with a cold in the middle of the week) and in the evenings I would go to the center of Dmitrov and hang out with friends there, people whom I really consider to be some of my best friends in the world but with whom, unfortunately, I'm able to meet with only once a year or so. It was a great time, the almost-perfect trip, an ideal combination of relaxation and festivities.
Making this trip especially comfortable was having, finally, knowledge of the language there. I really can't describe how much better it was to be there and to understand conversations and dialogs and questions, as opposed from knowing nothing at all during my previous excursions. Quickly after arriving I realized just how much better it would be when I was waiting for the bathroom at a restaurant in Moscow when a man came up to me and, in just one word, asked if it was occupied. Now, in the past I would have been in a state distress if this man had not used one of the fifteen or so Russian words I knew at the time – I likely would have said, “I don't know” (my staple response to an un-understood question), which would have led to another question, and it would have snowballed from there. This time, however, I was simply able to say, “Yes, there's a man there.” End of story. It was also just great to get in with the family (like I said, I consider them to really be my second family) and to be able to communicate with them directly, without the aide of a translator or anything like that. Within minutes of my arriving we sat down for dinner, I poured out the bottle of our home-made wine that I brought from Moldova and the grandma started to make a toast. She said a few words then furrowed her brow a little before turning to the oldest daughter and asking, “He understands?”, and upon receiving an affirmative answer, continued in her toast.
It was also a lot of fun to get in and communicate with my friends in their native language, although it should be noted that all my friends there speak English better than I speak Russian – there is no doubt about that. But at the very least my new-found (for them) language skills brought them a sense of comfort, that if they were tired and didn't want to speak English they really didn't have to, or that they could leave me alone for stretches of time in Moscow knowing that I likely wouldn't have any real problems.
I have two little stories of just how nice it was to finally be able to speak Russian in Russia. The first came one day when I was making some coffee and, after spilling some milk, I asked the grandma there where a rag was. She pointed it to me, waited a pause, then said with a small smile, “how good it is that you know the word 'rag'.” The second story happened when, on my first Sunday night, I was in the center talking to some people and there was a girl there whom I've known for two years now and always really liked a lot but could never really talk with. When I arrived she turned to me and said, “Hello!,” in English – which I answered in English – before she continued on with her conversation with another friend. After a little she asked another girl about me and the girl answered that I speak Russian and she could just talk to me. So the first girl turned to me and asked why I greeted her in English, so in Russian I said, “If someone starts a conversation with me in English, of course I answer in English. If the conversation starts in Russian, I answer in Russian.” She had a priceless look of awe painted on her face.
At the end of my trip I was lucky enough to buy an early ticket and, thus, have a spot on a train from Moscow to Chisinau. I was in a compartment with three other people, two women from Transnistria – the breakaway part of Moldova that's basically ruled by Russia – as well as the eight-year old daughter of one of the women. They were very kind and warm to me, terrified that I wasn't eating enough (no matter how much I ate) and put in a state of horror when I coughed once. On the road home we actually had to travel through Transnistria, something we American's are not supposed according to the US Embassy here, and I was a little worried about that, despite reassurances from friends who have taken the same route. However, when the guards came on they simply took the eighty-cent transit fee from me – which they took from everyone – and glanced at my passport for literally two seconds before moving on.
I got to Chisinau on Monday and my goal was to go home Tuesday, as I arrived too late to get home Monday evening. However, I received a text message from my friend inviting me to go to his regional center for 'храм' – day of the city – so I took went up there last Tuesday for the party and finally came home this last Wednesday, fifteen days after I left.
Now, it's time to start up with classes again in school. On Saturday we have a little ceremony in the morning to kick-off things, then we'll all go home around 11:00 in the morning. Sunday's a free day and finally, on Monday morning, we start for real. On one hand it'll be tough to get back into the cycle but on the other hand, it'll be nice to get back to doing the work that really brought me to Moldova. Plus, everyone says that the second year goes by twice as fast as the first year.
So I'll be home in America before I know it . . .
posted by Andy Buchanan at 5:41 AM
1 Comments:
I enjoyed this post. I'm curious what your language-learning routine was. For you to be advanced to "no problems in conversation" in Russian in a year, even with full immersion is very impressive. I live in Chisinau, shoot me an email if you'd like.
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