July 9, 2007 || Awful/Awesome Weekend

Nothing turned out this weekend like it was supposed to.
Here was the game plan:
Friday
Have dinner at an Indian restaurant, have some hookah, head home early because the rest of the weekend was going to be a long one.
Saturday
Leave at 11 a.m. for Kronstadt with Masha
Leave Kronstadt in the evening for Vyborg and Castle Dance
Dance the night away at Vyborg until coming home around 5 a.m. in order to...
Sunday
Wake up around 8 a.m. to attend the ACTR picnic on the zalif
Swim and mostly sleep on the beach
Do as much homework as possible before crashing that night

Here's what happened: on friday
Friday night began well enough... classes ended and we all headed home--me, to my first shower in a bucket. The water was turned off Friday morning, so we boiled water in the kettle and poured it into a bucket, where I scooped it into a second bucket and mixed it with cold water until it was the right temperature for washing my hair. We haven't perfected the system yet, but I've worked my way down from 2 teapots, to one pot of water and half a teapot, to just one pot of water. It was surprisingly refreshing, as wary as I was--I'm almost content not to go to a banya, except I'm going to have to shave every now and again, and I really need an accessible supply of hot water for that (my definitions of what I "need" have been constantly changing, typically downgraded--so I suppose that really, I just don't want to give that up yet).
Afterwards, I called the restaurant we'd picked out to make a reservation. About 12 people had expressed interest in eating out, and Marion had talked about bringing Nate, our friend from the Iowa (YES IOWA) group of Russian students, so I thought it might be best to make sure there was a table big enough for all of us. This is where I hit the first obstacle--miscommunication. The gentleman on the phone didn't want to let me have a table, telling me to try back tomorrow, the restaurant was closed (but not really closed). We kept talking, and finally he put down the phone--I heard whispers in the background and the word "Englishwoman" repeated a few times. Then, the phone was picked up again.
"Hello?" the man asked.
"Здравствуйте," I replied.
"Do you speak English?"
"Да, Я говорю по-англиский." ..and then I realized what a mess I was making of everything and switched into English. The guy, however, had a really thick Indian accent, and said "like" after just about every word (obviously he's spent some time in California), so it would almost have been better if we'd just spoken Russian. Turned out that there was a wedding party that had rented out the restaurant, but if we had a big group, we could still get a table. I agreed, putting the number around 12 or 13, and we hung up.
I headed out for the metro station we'd agreed to meet at early, hoping that everyone else would do the same (our meeting time was 6:30; I'd made reservations for 7). Jessica had called to say she couldn't come, but I was still hoping for a pretty good turn-out. Well, by 6:50, only Trista and KK had showed up--I finally gave Liza a call, who told us that she'd tried to walk to the metro and gotten lost (after spending all day walking around the city looking for a decent internet cafe) and she told me that Anna and Marion would be late, and that Chris and Natalie probably wouldn't be coming. "Great," I thought. Marion and Anna showed up a few minutes later, with the news that Joe and Nate had both decided to go to the Elton John concert that night, and I texted Chris and Natalie, who definitely weren't coming. So from a possible 12 we could at best hope for 6, and one of them was lost. We gave Liza some general directions and went up the street a ways to meet her. Then, it started to rain. And not your typical, light, 5-minute St. Petersburg rain. It rained long, and it rained hard. Liza called back a little while later rather flustered, really lost, so we found her on a map and gave her really specific instructions on where to go, telling her that it'd be okay and we'd go to the restaurant and get everything taken care of. Did I mention that my tutor was supposed to call me around 7? So while I'm on the phone with Liza, Masha is beeping in, and before I can even really say goodbye to Liza my minutes cut out, so thankfully Masha calls again as we're walking in the rain to try and find a bus, and I gave the girls the address to the restaurant and asked them to find a bus that would get us there while I talked to Masha. Masha had learned that you couldn't go straight to Vyborg from Kronstadt, and if I wanted to go to both Kronstadt and the concert then I would have to go back to St. Petersburg first (it's about an hour to Kronstadt, and about 3 to Vyborg from SPB), and Masha wasn't prepared to let me do that. I was so stressed out, and getting soaked, and it was so hard to speak Russian, that I told Masha I just wouldn't go to the concert--at that point, all I wanted was a relaxing day, all the better spent at some lush location that Masha is so fond of. She told me, "Listen, Jaclyn, you've been talking a lot about this concert--and you spent money on it. It's okay. We can go again." I was so thankful I just wanted to cry--this girl is so understanding and awesome; I know she'd really been looking forward to it. At the end of our conversation, I blurted out "I love you Masha" which just made her crack up laughing (we're at this awkward stage where I think we both want to hug each other when we see each other, but we just kind of run up real close, pause, and then go "So, to the gardens!" or whatever). That handled, we found the right bus and headed down Bolshoy Prospekt, getting let out at some super-shady street corner. I ducked into a nearby grocery store to get directions--while it continued to pour--and we headed back up the road (I'd gotten the address wrong by one number: 93 instead of 91). We were so relieved to see a red sign reading "Restaurant" on the side of the building, and we passed windows that opened onto a beautiful table spread with linens and silverware--we were all really hungry, too. So we finally get inside, shake out our umbrellas, heave a collective sigh, and look around. We can hear the wedding through the doors, and already we're warming up, when the greeter asks, "Jackie, right?" and I say yes and then--he points out the door. We're snuck BACK outside, AROUND the restaurant, IN a back door, THROUGH the kitchen area, and into a separate back room--we catch a glimpse of the wedding party as we pass through a corridor, but clearly we're not supposed to be here (we're almost positive that the wedding planners rented out the entire restaurant, and we were last-minute illegal additions). Our waiter and busboy and greeter were all the same man, the gentleman who spoke English to me on the phone, and he was wonderful. They all were--we felt like we were their private secret, and we were all having a good-natured joke at the expense of the wedding party. Honestly, it felt like playing at a kids game, sneaking around like that (did I mention that whenever our server/greeter left the room, he'd shut the door?). We ordered some bottles of Azerbaijanii wine and had a glass waiting for Liza when she finally made it, dripping wet. We all ordered--the food was soooo spicy and I'm pretty sure it's the cause for my stomachache today, but excellent.
Afterward, we got a hookah and I had my first experience. It also became very clear that I'm probably the most sheltered girl of all the people here, haha. But that only means that my friends have enjoyed the experience of teaching me new things--like, how to not cough when you first smoke a hookah (thank you KK!). The rest of the night more than made up for the beginning; we had a great time together and all got home before the metro closed, and sneaking back OUT of the Indian restaurant was just as fun as sneaking in--saying goodbye and thanks so much to everyone on our way out (I've never seen so many Russians smile in a single place!)

Here's What Happened: on saturday
First of all, I slept in--and it was wonderful. Then I took a nice shower and did a big of homework; Liza and I had agreed to meet at the train station around 2:30ish (I think) while Chris, Natalie, and Trista had jumped on an earlier train. I beat Liza to the metro, who had called to say she was a little behind schedule. We actually ended up missing the first train out to Vyborg, then bungled our way through buying a ticket for the next train, which left after about an hour. So we bummed around Findlanskii Vokzal (the station where Lenin triumphantly returned to Russia), grabbed some chocolate, etc., until it was time for our train. Also, our train ticket didn't give us any information--we only knew that our train was leaving at around 4:05. When the 4:05 came up on the schedule, it listed a destination city different than Vyborg. We headed out to the platforms, chatted with the conductor, and ended up taking a seat on the train. About 3 minutes before the train departed, I realized I'd forgotten my ticket for the concert. Liza and I had to make a decision quick--should we get off, or should I try to sneak in?
We decided on getting off, since you do NOT mess with Russian security (good thing too; apparently there were at least 2 checkpoints getting into the castle, we later found out). In the rain on the way home, we discussed how we were kind of relieved not to be making such a long trip out there (the train's seats were basically wooden benches bolted to the ground), and that both of us, it turned out, had had regrets about going from the start. We found our way to the patio of the restaurant Il Patio, where Liza mistakenly ordered a pitcher of beer and we talked about life, Russia, and all things interesting. We got started on life-changing events, which of course led to talk of loss, and how life absolutely needs to be lived to the fullest all the time. I got dinner, and we whiled away some of the day, waiting for night to come--we'd called Marion and Anna, and were planning on a nice night out at Fidel. Around this time we all got text messages from Neil saying that the picnic for Sunday had been canceled due to iffy weather.
We headed to Anna's next, stopping to pick up some drinks and a pack of cards--they wanted to teach Katya (Marion's tutor) (and me in the process!) the game of Kings. We beat everybody there, and had fun trying on a couple of Anna's tops, eventually picking something out to where for the night. Anna is super nice and generous--she told us how she used to literally GIVE her clothes away at college, and she can just doesn't seem to get upset by anything. Her family was out at the dacha for the weekend, so Katya, Marion, Liza, KK, and I were all going to spend the night at her house. Katya and Marion showed up with champagne, and then KK arrived too, so we started by teaching Katya Kings. She was HILARIOUS. For example, every time a 9 turns up in the game, you have to pick a word for the other people to rhyme with. Most people pick things like "box" or "free," but Katya picked "affection" and "forsake." Needless to say, we didn't get very far with those words.
It was really nice just hanging out in an empty apartment, drinking from mismatched glasses with a group of girls--it's been a while since I've had a fully girls' night out. We got started singing this Russian ballad we all knew, with Katya giving us pronunciation tips, and then we talked about how all Russian songs are sad. Eventually, we headed out to Fidel, where the DJ played the same funky-awesome mix of American and international music from all over time. We danced for a few songs, and I decided that I wanted to try something knew--so I ordered a B-52 (first in Russian, and then in English when the bartender didn't understand me). He didn't have shot-stoppers on the bottles, so he fixed straws to the end of them--giving an extra to me--and poured through these straws. After, he lit it on fire and pushed it towards me. What?! I can't drink something that's on fire?! ...can I? There were a frenzied few minutes where I tried to find someone who'd had a B-52 and ask them, but nobody knew, and then the bartender was tapping me on the shoulder and telling me to drink it, so I finally blew out the flames and had a taste--deeeeelishious (though I'm pretty sure I let all the alcohol burn out).
While at Fidel we met some guys from Princeton--Anant, John, and Rob. John spent the first hour chatting up Liza, who excused herself to take Anna home and stayed away for the rest of the night. I first talked with Anant, who was really laid-back and cool. He talked about how, being Indian, he was still going to sell out (like everyone at Princeton, apparently) and study business, while Russian was going to be his secret repressed passion--he's going to grow up to be that weird old man down the street who quotes Tolstoy and hands out tattered copies of Crime and Punishment to kids. He was also wearing a sweater--a sweater!!--in the bar, which he said his Babyshka had made him put on before heading out--and we could all relate. Rob was also really laid-back, although he mentioned his farm back home in Texas with horses (which made me think "Clearly, he's from Princeton"), but John was just ridiculous. He was from Ohio, so of course I mentioned Cedar Point. "No, I've never been. I'm afraid of the mob mindset of middle-class America." So what's your major? "I'm going to be a historian--one that makes the best-seller list, but one that other historians also respect." Oh... "And I also entertain modest aspirations of maybe becoming a senator, or even President... if that doesn't work, then a speech-writer; I think that even if we can't fulfill our overblown promises, we need to improve the rhetoric--to not just sound so stupid." ...I couldn't figure out if this kid was serious or not, but turns out he definitely was. We spent much of the night talking with them--KK really cozied up to Anant--especially after being slowly shoved out of our table by two Russians playing chess. At one point I convinced them that we were Canadian, and they stopped talking at me when I started speaking French--but really, who brings a chess set to a bar on a Saturday night?
We called it a night around 4 a.m. and all crashed at Anna's; 2 to a bed in most cases. I got up around 7 to head home; I was pleased that even so tired my Russian was good enough to strike up a short conversation with two tourists from some town down south who wanted me to take their picture in front of Kazanskii Cobor. I told Igor that there was no picnic, and promptly dropped into bed for a few hours.

Here's What Happened: on sunday
When I woke up around 11, I was starving. I had myself some breakfast and climbed back into bed with a book--I had much more free time than I'd planned on, so I started Bely's The Silver Dove and took a short nap. Then I did homework like crazy; my thought process was that if I did enough last night, Monday's load would be easy, and I'd have time to get online--which has proved to be true! The rest of the day was pretty uneventful, but I went to bed early to do some serious catching-up on sleep.

And today. There's so much more I want to add--realizations I'm having about language, about culture, about people, and the fact that I'm already starting to miss St. Petersburg--but it's nigh midnight and I haven't even begun what I wanted to do, which is work on my G-8 project. This Friday! I apologize for the lack of "You Might Find This Interesting" but I swear they'll return when I can carve out some more time.