: ) Blog #1

Dear Friends,

One. Thank you for taking an interest in my life in Russia and... Two. Take a look at how lucky I am ; ) (above). The best and most famous parts of Russia have been caught in these pictures. From the top we have the State Historical Museum , then in the middle we have a lake that I took a picture of and I'm honestly not sure what the cathedral is called, and at the bottom we have St. Basil's Cathedral. Conversely, the worst part of it all is that I do not have the talent to take a beautiful enough picture to share it with you. Honestly, Russia is a beautiful country and I am overwhelmed with the amount of aesthetic beauty and historical meaning each street carries.

To help you feel what I am living, I'll try to explain what I experience walking everyday to MXAT (Moscow Arts Theatre). As I leave the dorm I always say goodbye to a little old lady that gaurds the door (we call them Babushki) and as I walk outside I welcome the cool moscovite breeze into my black Ralph-Lauren trench coat. Its not cold, just...chilly...enough to remind you its the morning and that it's going to get colder, a lot colder. :) As I walk I am sorrounded by the neon signs with the Cyrillic Alphabet, Hot New Fashion Clothing Stores, Homeless People who are begging for only a Ruble, and Incredible Architecture that goes at least Six Floors up. The Russians generally stay silent so the Americans (me) are most of the time calling attentions to ourselves with how loud we are; however, when we are assimilating to the culture we are lucky enough to hear the muttering of the historic slovak language that we all wish we could emulate--but all we actually understand is Shto, Gdzjye, and Spaseeba (what, where, and thanks)--we really only get by with the occasional brilliant gesture that somehow miraculously connects us and clears the language barrier. haha...but that doesn't happen often...well...ya. Oh, and even when we try to fit in, it doesn't mean we don't notice the occasional Russian male that stares you down with his almost opressed, hard-worked eyes. But it also doesn't mean that we don't notice the occasional beautifully fullfulling, gorgeous, and un-touchable Russian woman. It's Yin and Yang. In the street you can almost feel the cars being impatient, sometimes getting nowhere because of the heavy traffic that always exists on Tverskaya street, you may say this is like New York, but all the cars are quiet--almost repressed. The cars, however impatient, (they will run you over), they wait and they don't make a sound. Just wait. Disciplined. I smell smoke. Not dirty smog air polluted from cars, but smoke from my friends and all the Russians that smoke cigarretes everywhere and everyday--haha--even when a sign says no smoking (I see the sign, I don't actually know how to say it) there will most likely be a Russian, or Charlie Forray, smoking next to me. : ) It's not unpleasant but a wonderful thing to get used to. I feel cultured and alive. I feel like I can't see, experience, or learn enough. With every sign I read I know that I get closer to deciphering this unknown language and with every encounter I feel less scared to jump in a make a fool of myself with my broken russian--actually-- shattered russian.

Ok. So Russia is beautiful. You get it. It's also ugly too. It has its darker side, very dark. But I'll talk about that next time. Chao.

With Love,

Marcin