Я весь неделя была в делах.

I had a busy week.

Monday, July 4^th

I’ve been neglecting this blog recently. Mostly because I’ve barely had time to shower regularly, rather than sit down and write out my thoughts. Therefore, this is going to be a bit long and rambly. Just putting that out there.

Some of the birthday group

So I suppose the first order of business is my birthday. Tuesday was my 21^st! Thanks to all of you who wished me happy birthday in some form or another. In Russia, that officially makes me an old maid, considering I’m not married. Maybe that’ll be how I get rid of sketchy Russian dudes from now on. We had school as usual, then after I napped and met a few people at a well known bar to start the night. Lindsay bought me a whiskey, which was horrid…..horridly delicious! Then we trekked to our on-the-street drinking spot, where we were met by a surprising amount of people from the program, many of whom brought me small gifts or beers. Lindsay eventually started confiscating these after a while. Then we went to a bar…where Paul (who will have an entire blog post at some point about how much he sucks) threw up inside. Then I blacked out. Then I start remembering about two hours later…but it was much of the same stuff. There are more interesting talking points to get to, so I’ll leave the rest of my evening up to your imagination. But know that I didn’t puke, quite like the champ I like to pretend I am.

The next day, I slept through the meeting time for our excursion to Peterhorf…the Versailles of the North, a place I actually REALLY wanted to go to. But my hangover made me happy to stay in, and Natalya promised to take Lindsay and me later this month. I texted Jarlath my apologies, who just said he hoped I had a good birthday. Is it okay I’m proud that at least ten others missed that excursion because of my birthday? Actually, never mind. I don’t care if it’s okay. I’m proud.

The rest of the week was fairly uneventful.

NOT!

Friday was the Gogol Bordello show. It started at 8, so I planned to have dinner early and rush back to drink a bit before the show and get in line. However, we had a big meeting after classes about our trip to Valaam the next day, so despite my running through the city in 85 degrees and 80% humidity (ick) I was still late for dinner. The metro being stopped for 15 minutes didn’t help. But…there’s Russia for you. Nothing goes according to plan, especially when you need it to. But I made it back to the metro station in time to meet Renee and the group. At that point, just Renee, Joe and I had arrived, so we decided to grab brewskies and walk to the venue. Thank God. Because as we turned the corner to the club, we saw a man with raggedy black hair walking casually towards us. He resembled one of the many gypsies/beggars/alcoholics that line the streets, so we at first moved to avoid him. One more look…and there was no mistaking that stache or that gait. It was Eugene Hutz, lead singer of Gogol Bordello and Alex from Everything is Illuminated. We immediately stopped him, sputtering in our excitement, and tried to sound way cooler than we felt, considering how sweaty and American we were. He said “everyone’s getting drunk before the show!” He took pictures with us and then went on his way to…wherever he was going. But wherever it was, I bet it was the coolest place evar.

Sara and Renee and Hutz. Best friends.

Gogol saying goodnight

Everyone was super jealous when they arrived, but the show made up for it. Gogol puts on a great show, and this was no exception. Save for the fact that one of the air conditioners in the club was broken, making us literally drip with sweat, it was mind-blowing. Most songs they did in Russian, even the ones I know in English, except for Start Wearing Purple. To which the Russian crowd sang in English…which was hilarious.

Anyways. I should move on or you might not make it through all of this.

The next day was our trip to Valaam. Talk about switching gears from a drunken gypsy punk show the day before…Valaam is a 14^th century Russian Orthodox monastery, regarded as one of the holiest places in the religion. It’s located on an island in Lake Ladoga, the largest lake in Europe…not to be confused with Lake Baikal in Siberia, the largest lake in Russia. We met that evening at a metro station by the docks, as we took a 2 day cruise to see the island. After a questionable fish/rice dinner, we had a few beers at the bar. As much as I wanted to party, walking around a monastery with a raging hangover didn’t sound like very much fun. However, the boat had a discotek, so we hung out around there. The Georgetown kids were all dancing by themselves…no one wanted to join them. The girls were dancing like they were on poles…and when “Low” came on, they came around the pull us in, saying “this is our song!” I wasn’t aware we had a song. If America’s song is Low…we have sunk farther than I ever thought we could. When Joe refused Georgetown Jon, he said “sorry we’re not underground enough for you.” First of all, the California frat guy is underground to you? Secondly…it had nothing to do with anything being underground. Ugh. Some people. Like Paul. But I’m saving all of those goodies for later.

The next day, after sleeping on the most uncomfortable beds imaginable, we woke to find ourselves docked at Valaam. Let me tell you, if I wasn’t homesick before…that sight did it for me. Hills covered in towering evergreen trees sloping down towards still water…I might as well have been home.

Right at home

In the morning, after an equally questionable breakfast of salty kasha, pancakes, and sour cream, we took a walking tour of the natural parts of the island and some sketes. Sketes are smaller monastic settlements that are dotted around the island and connected to the main monastery. The tour took 3 hours to walk 4 miles…and did I mention we hadn’t had a drop of water since dinner the night before? I’m honestly surprised nobody passed out, as the weather wasn’t exactly cool. Also, the bugs were MASSIVE. I mean…I thought the arctic circle wouldn’t have flies the size of quarters, but I guess I was wrong. So, though it was beautiful, it was less than pleasant. Then we returned to the boat for a rest and lunch. After a good hour break, we took a smaller boat around the island to the main monastery. It was pretty touristy, which is very gracious of the monks who live there. Most have taken vows of silence, many for decades. Though crammed with people, the place was tranquil and beautiful. We weren’t allowed to take pictures of the main churches, where women had to wear long skirts and cover our heads and shoulders, while men had to wear long pants and uncover their heads. I felt bad for the guys walking in pants in that heat…

The main monastery

While there, we had the opportunity to see a choral group. Five men, all of whom looked so bored they could hardly stand it, almost brought me to tears. I mean, given, I have a sore spot for choral music, but this was so unbelievably beautiful I wanted to hug them. Add on the fact we were in a church with wonderful acoustics…I could have not seen anything else that day and been happy.

Then, hot, tired, dehydrated, and sweaty, we were herded back on the ferry and went back to our own boat. Some people went swimming, but the knowledge that the water was as cold as the Sound kept me away from it. I tried to warn a few people, who came back looking disgruntled at the cold. After a beyond questionable dinner of some meat roll that looked suspiciously like male genitalia, we headed to the bar to start celebrating the 4^th…and let’s be honest, what else were we going to do all night on that boat? When we started to hear thunder, we ventured outside to find our boat was headed out of a storm and into a new one. The boat began to rock on the waves. But all was fine; the only damage done was a few claps of sick thunder and an additional challenge to standing after a few beers.

When midnight hit, we all sang the national anthem as best we could, despite the fact it wouldn’t be the 4^th in the states for several hours. The bartenders, Semyon and Vlad, were feeding us champagne and pushing cigarettes. When John began to pack the Parliaments, they asked him what he was doing. I guess Russians don’t bother packing cigarettes…holds them up too much. However, when our friend Spencer found all of his prescription drugs stolen out of his room in the morning…we suspected our new friends had a different motivation to their generosity than simple kindness. Luckily, nothing else was stolen…except for my nose ring! Stolen…lost…same thing. I still need to get a new one, but I have the names of a few tattoo parlors that sell jewelry. Let me tell you, not having metal in my face is one of the weirdest feelings I’ve experienced in Russia.

I got to bed at about 6, like you do in Russia. At 9, we docked in St. Petersburg, and made our way home groaning and whining the whole way. Tonight, because we’ve decided that sleep is for losers, we’re going to go see Jarlath dj at a club. Should be an interesting time.

Til next time!