I'm in the Land of Lenin!

I sang the words as I frolicked among decaying statues that adorned the park in which Marina, Valentine, and I spent part of our afternoon. Some of the statues which stood tall in the park were rescued after the fall of communism, parts of the park contain sculptures depicting the triumphs of their soldiers or great masters of the arts, and still other sculptures depict the horrors of Stalin's repression. Standing tall and proud behind it all is the enormous statue of Peter the Great...

err, or is it?

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The statue was originally a gift for America- it was Christopher Columbus discovering America (let's skip all the P.C. arguments about who actually discovered what, shall we? It's a paid holiday so I'll take it). Long story short, America took a gander at the Ogre-like creature in a boat nowhere near the ability to support his weight and said "thanks but no thanks." Oh well, in Russia, you don't waste anything. Old bread is eaten until it is literally inpalatable and thereafter made fermented into a popular beverage called Kvass. So they lobbed off ol' Chris's head and replaced it with the Euro-phile's and suddenly it is a statue of Peter the Great watching over Moscow.

Sound too far fetched to be true? This girl would agree, so she did some digging.

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First, look at the base of the statue: Three boats depicted at the bottom.

Second: Peter the Great would not have been gazing approvingly at Moscow. He established the capital at St. Petersburg because he saw it as Russia's "Window to the West" offering it easy access to what he fully believed was the more civilized part of the continent. Any statue this huge is misplaced (and abhorred by most of Moscow's locals)

Third: Even tour guides who have studied history have backed up the story. I got to talk to one firsthand after my boat ride on the Moscow River with coworkers. We got hooked up with a free watery tour because the tourguide, a historian, is a good friend of my coworker, Ilena.

So there just might be some truth to this story...

Anyway, one should not assume that the reminders of this land's Bolshevik uprising are confined to parks. Metro stations continue to boast their original decor. The wall of metro stateion Ploshad Ilichya, greets me with a giant profile of the Lenin man each morning as I swich lines. Stations boast names like "Proletariat Place," "Street of the year 1905," "Marksist Place," and the "Lenin Library." Not to mention Lenin's tomb, which continues to draw interested tourists, and aging pilgrims in droves.Let's not forget the great Moscow State University, the most prestigous institution of higher learning in the country, designed by Stalin himself and still boasting its original symbols

Further Communist fun:

A wet and icky first Saturday in Moscow didn't stop this girl from adventuring out into the city. My good friend, Marina, met me in the metro station and introduced me to her hustband, Valentine. He's half Ukranian, half Russian, and doesn't really fit into either category very well, although he prefers Kiev to Moscow and moved here just to marry dear Marina 9 months ago.

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We went to an expansive park that was formerly an exhibition area for all the Soviet Republics' grand accomplishments. Each Republic was represented by its own individually designed exhibiton hall. The buildings surrounded a sprawling park with fountains, statues, and Soviet rockets and airplanes. There is a sculpture to honor Yuri Gagarin- Marina: Because we were first, you know? Me: Yeah, I know, you guys sent the first dog into space! Poor Laika.

A wonderful fountain displays the different industries...



with Agriculture looking strangely like a certain Ukranian...
Timoshenko's great great grandmother???

Soviet stars and symbols are everywhere. You really can see firsthand the lengths the Party went to in maintaing the fascade they were always prosperous and building pride in its citizens.

We decided not to let the awful weather get us down and instead took advantage of globalization by means of German engineering of the "Wilde Maus"

In an appropriate end of the afternoon's stroll down USSR memory lane, we all enjoyed a late lunch at McDonald's. It's really where to eat when you want to live like a local, as each of the many locations are always teeming with Muscovites, anytime of the day, and almost all are open 24 hours. Plus, it's one of the few places one can afford to eat out on an non-profit organziation salary.

Here they have a cheese sauce you can get for your french fries, and actually you have a choice of classic Micky D's fries or potato wedges. While you have to pay for condiments, I have to say it's worth it for the solid mass that comes in a bbq sauce sized container and tastes like a mix between mayonaise and cheeze whiz. It's about the perfect accompanyment to your fried 'taters and reinforces my belief that Russians won't eat anything without either sour cream or mayo. While most prices are reasonable and/or comparable to the US, the 35 cent ice cream cones still reign strong as my favorite item on the menu!

I ended the evening at home, sampling Russian wine with Nadia and Sergei and then staying up way too late with Nadia talking about boys... some things you never outgrow :)

Pattymelts in Paradise...

My two weeks at home began ideally and never really stopped having a surreal air of pleasantness. Real breakfasts. Italians don't really fancy them. But a fresh omlette full of sauteed onions, ham, and melted cheese accompanied by rye toast let me know that I was back in the land of well... everything. I polished off my own and helped Mom with hers... I'm a good helper like that.

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The first day consisted of little major activity. I had a wonderful run around the town, enjoying the cool air on my skin, breathing it in as it almost intoxicated me with its clean aroma full of honeysuckle, freshly cut grass, I never really realized how amazing the air is in this small town, but after 3 years in D.C. and a year in an ancient (beautiful) city without plant life, the contrast smacked my olfactory senses and made my jaunt all feel all too short. The birds serenaded me and bullfrogs welcomed me back with their guttoral greetings. I never realized how big the cars were or how many pickup trucks and SUV's people own around here, and how few motorcycles and scooters, until that first day. I couldn't help but jump a bit when a loud Harley passed me!

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At beer o'clock, Mom and I headed out to her new backyard swing and I told her more stories about Italy and my adventures. She regaled me with tales of her activities and drama in her circle of friends. I enjoyed a blueberry ale from my favorite place in Maine and then took a nap, awaking to a splendid dinner with real, Idaho russet baked potatoes (completely absent in Europe).

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The next day, I got to see ol' Hanover again and sample some of its best features. After an amazing breakfast at Perkins, a trip to the Hanover Shoe Farm brought coos from Mom and me as we watched newly born horses struggling to stand on their wobbly legs and cautious mothers staying close. One of the horses had been born that morning and was clearly exhausted from the process. It stood only long enough to drink some milk and then tried clumbsily to fold its long, lanky legs under itself -how the heck do I work?- to lay comfortably.

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After this, we went to Snyders to pick up some local snacky goodness, (it's hard to live in a land of amazing fresh snack foods and then try to eat old packaged salty things away from there... it does incentivize healthy eating though...) and then did a very bad thing. We went to the enormous Giant supermarket. (I refer to the PA Giant, not those silly MD/VA ones which just can't compare)

And we said "Yes" to each other to EVERYTHING the two of us wanted. Hungry 5 year olds couldn't have done better than us...

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We returned home just before a big storm hit with a car full of 3 kinds of ice cream, oreos, tastee kakes (holla at ya, PA!), 4 boxes of cereal (but two were very healthy, I swear!) hot dogs, veggie burgers, fresh breads, Pennsylvania apples (still the best I've tasted)- oh the list goes on! Plus, there was a Dunkin Donuts stop on the way home (it's not fair! They lure you with cheap coffee and then expose you to dozens of fresh goodies!). Looking at the counter after we had unloaded the car, we just laughed as we rushed to get the ice cream to safety.

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I took the most exquisite run as the thunder roared and lightning illuminated the darkened sky just as twilight made its appearance. The air added to its bouquet the fresh rain smell and the froggies were excitedly chirping for the inevitable shower. A light spritz and a gentle breeze made the temperature simply perfect for a jog.

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I spent the next day, after having french toast that I actually liked for the first time in my life (Mom is magical- made it with a croissant and cooked it perfectly so it was crusted on the outside and custardy on the inside) catching up with my Aunt, cousin, and 4th grade teacher, Mrs. Hash, who I had not seen since I was in her class. Mom and I planned to swim in Aunt Lydia's pool, one of my favorite places to hang out since I moved to Stewartstown (when I was 5), but the cool day wouldn't allow for anything more than dipping in toes followed by shrieks. It certainly wasn't too cold for double chocolate brownie ice cream in fresh Snyder's pretzel cones though.

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The next day consisted of a run, some light housework, and after 12:000, nothing else. Mom insisted I needed a few "couch days" to rest up before jettisioning off to Russia and I was happy to comply. Dad brought barbeque from Chubby's to ensure we could spend the whole day being lazy nad not have to worry about cooking dinner. I made my way down to the playground to swing a bit, but other than that, my butt, the chaise, and occasionally a adorable black cat were united for the whole day.

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Friday, Dad worked from home while Mom and I ventured out in a rainstorm to get mani-pedi's from her awesome Sicilian hairdresser who made me miss my former home as she spoke to me in Italian and I told stories of my trip. After getting my hair trimmed for the first time in almost two years, I felt lovely despite the grey soggy exterior of the salon. Mom and I emerged two unstoppably gorgeous creatures. The rest of the day was another trip down memory lane as we went to Hoss's, the source of both my high school and college revenue and my desire never to procreate, and then to the movies at the West Manchester Mall. The wing with the theater had its unmistakeable characteristics- hoards of teenage boys in ill-fitting clothing and cliques of girls in equally badly sized clothing, albeit the other direction, endless chatter from the ticket queue accompanied by the bells and chimes of the arcade, and the most unusual combination of smells eminating from pizza, popcorn, and soft pretzels from all the food stands in the vicinity. I think there is no better way to spend a rainy day than in a theater escaping to another world. This time we all went to the Smithsonian and the personified Abe Lincoln made me long to get back to D.C... soon enough!

The weekend whizzed by, full of family I had missed seeing for many months. The pause in the workweek was dedicated to celebrating the Golden wedding anniversary of my amazing grandparents. We began the fun when Dave and Gillian arrived at our home with Turtle and the human family members all packed into one car to meet the rest of Mom's family at Alfred's Victorian, a great 19th centruy mansion which has been impressing the greater Harrisburg area's residents with its culinary creations for many years. Mom's dinner came with a free cookbook, makikng me green with envy when it turned out to be full of stories and recipies from my beloved northern Italy!

*The happy couple*

The next morning, bright and early, we went to Grandma and Grumps' church for the 9:00 am service, during which I probably was condemmed to Hell for laughing the whole time thanks to Rae. the minister began the ceremony for my granparents. They recited traditional vowes and then read their own, brining tears to our eyes. It was amazing to see the love that flows so strongly between them fifty years after they first promised their lives and souls to one another. The small reception in the church basement was catered by the sweet UMC ladies and after our snack, we headed into the great outdoors for eight hundred million family photos. After spending some time at the grandparent's house just visiting and sampling some snickerdoodle wedding cake, we all headed home to spend the remainder of the evening pooped on the couch (with pizza!).

*Heather loves her big brother!*

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On Tuesday of the following week, Mom and I went to Roots and I got to see one of my favorite amish markets in full bloom under the bright sun. So many fruits and vegetables grown right on the farms down the street. And amish women can bake! Their goods are just unbelievable- the cakes, danishes, breads, cookies, etc. are simply fantastic, all made by hand from scratch, and so fresh. The air there smells of freshly baked sweets, in other parts of the market, you get overwhelmed by the aroma of fresh flowers or fruits, and in still other parts, you smell smoked meats. It really is an experience. Also present is lots of handmade woodwork furniture that never ceases to impress me given my inability to mold playdough into anything recognizable.

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We exited with special catnipt toys for Vinnie, who had begun sleeping on my bed again in the same spot he used to when we lived in D.C, stickybuns fresh from the oven, lots of fresh produce, just-squeezed lemonade, and of course some whoopie pies. Plus, I scored two pair of sunglasses and a watch for under twenty bucks.

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The evenings usually concluded with a family dinner. Mom made one of my altime favorite comfort foods- her meatballs- which, although I don't particularly like hamburger all that much, must be made with ambrosia because they always taste sooooo scrumptious. She used hamburger chopped just for her from a cow the folks had purchased. She used the same meat to make pattymelts one night that almost made me faint. Also we had grilled veggies all the time, grilled chicken with homemade bbq sauce, twice baked potatoes, salads, all the wonderful American foods that I can't really say I missed (c'mon, I was living in Italy!) until I tasted them and remembered how much I loved them :)

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The day before my departure to Russia, I finally got to spend some grossly overdue time with my old man. We took a motorcycle ride, fulfilling one of my fundamental wishes for my short visit home, and visited the Nissley Winery, sampling the creations and meeting the doggies. Afterwards, we had ice cream for lunch at the Jigger Shop. What's a Jigger? If you've never had one, well it's hard to describe the dessert that has about twice the sugar of even the most child-friendly treat and tastes every bit as sweet as it really is. From their website:

Jigger - "Our Specialty"Two and a half scoops of vanilla ice cream made with your choice of chocolate or butterscotch topping, whipped marshmallow and our secret touch... Jigger Nuts!

I really don't know what a "jigger nut" is, escept that it sounds kind of dirty and like an insult, but it is neither...

The frozen confection geniuses there freeze the ice cream in the sundae dishes so they are ready to go on the fly, and one can eat it as slowly as is necessary with something so overwhelming and it stays frozen until the last butterscotchy spoonful!

Me: Coffee! I need coffee!

Dad: Me too. Do you want anything in it.

Me: Black!!!!!!

I honestly believer you need a cup of bitter joe to make it through one of those sundaes. But we both conquered ours and then took a nice hike up to the Governor Dick (giggle) tower to take in the scenery. We then climbed the tower, and I got my ego handed to me as Dad beat me to the bottom. Any tower that provides 2 passageways so you can race is alright in my book! We then split some lovely, carb- free red wine (since one of us had used up his carbohydrate allowance for about a week on the aforementioned treat!) and chatted in the forest for a bit before heading home and spending the evening with Mom sharing our days and eating sushi.

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The next day passed in a blur as I quickly packed my bag and got ready to venture out again. Luckily, my bestie made it to the airport and I got to see her gorgeous face and hug my other half before venturing over the Iron Curtain. What adventures awaited me, I didn't know but I knew I would cherish the memories of all the family time and knew I was blessed to never have to question their support, no matter where this crazy life takes me... or I take it.

Mom's Kitchen: Where the only thing "Lite" is the soy sauce!

After the hugs came the first words each and every girl wants to hear upon returning home and seeing their parents after a year abroad, "You got your nose pierced!" Well, maybe not the words I was expecting, but a rational choice on their part.

The flight home was a bit unbearable, not due at all to the nice individual sitting next to me who only had to go to the bathroom once and spent the rest of the time keeping to himself or sleeping... if only all plane neighbors could be so perfect. Rather, it was because any flight over 4 hours by yourself turn from exciting to tedious rather quickly and half of my movies had problems iwth the audio, so I was limited as to the amount of mindless entertainment to which I was privy... I did succeed in losing a few brain cells to "Bride Wars" though so it wasn't a total loss. The customs line went on forever, but at least it was a definite line where one knew who was in front of them and where to go. America, while difficult to enter, is at least organized in its strictness.

My bag arrived, but unfortunately my best friend was late and couldn't make it to greet me. I was nothing short of exhausted since my body thought it was the middle of the night and all day I had eaten one airline meal along with a few tiny italian cookies for "breakfast." I didn't feel hungry but felt the crankiness threatening to come out.

In the parking lot of the airport, I jumped up and down three times and shook my head to rid myself of any lingering negative thoughts and made myself happy. Look around! You're in Virginia! You're about to get into your car and go HOME. You are with the two greatest people you know. You will soon see Vinnie again! It worked. Plus, I knew I wouldn't have to worry about being hungry again for at least two weeks and those pants, which I had to buy in Bologna because I was too skinny for my normal ones, well their days were numbered. I was going home!



A stop at Sheetz on the way home was the perfect way to get a taste of one of my favorite PA originated institutions. A mini pretzel melt, a hash brown, and a cream soda were happily consumed by the girl who can't get enough of her east coast goodies, no matter where she travels. I talked my parents' ears off the whole way home and when I returned, I was impressed with the home improvements they had made. Mom's garden was lush and expanded. The windows in the house were all new and the house's exterior looked made over.

I just couldn't help but giggle as I stood in the familliar kitchen, taking in the Kitchenaid appliances, the huge silver refrigerator, the awful tiled floor, the kitchen table that really is more a place for piling everything than a functional eating place, the operating yet broken dishwasher that was broken when I left, the strawberries picked that morning from the garden, oh it was all beautiful.

And then he was there before me. My Vinnie. Having suffered from a bout of depression at my absence, the poor guy no longer had his luch black coat that used to be his greates glory, at least the back half of him didn't. He was too skinny but none of that mattered. I knew he had spent the last 9 months being spoiled rotten by his "grandparents" and enjoying the nature channels available from the many windows that were always open. I petted the suspicious puddy tat and then he ran off. I knew I would have some groveling to do to get back in his good graces.
The pillows in my room had Reeses Big Cups on them... Mom knows how to make the little touches. We all stayed up too late chatting, and I fell asleep exhausted but smiling. I was home.

Phone Number

The country code here is 7. My mobile number is: 8-915-047-30-76.

If you need to call or send a text message (feel free!), I am 8 hours AHEAD of the east coast, and 2 hours ahead of most of Europe.

The Muscovite returns...

Day number five of the same clothes... and like yesterday and the day before, the airport tells me they will deliver it today.

Meh, I have clean underwear, my passport, and a toothbrush. I would say I'm set.

Back in Russia. It is a strange deja vu that hits me at times. I can honestly say I never thought I'd be back here so soon. Today, I took my old metro line to work and got on at my old station. Nostalga hit me almost as strongly as the aroma of body odor mixed with perfume and baked goods that innundate each metro station.
The people on the metro crowd in and stand so close that they can't smile... the only "personal space" they have is their introvertedness which they protect behind frowns and downward glances. Metro is only half of my voyage. I take a van called a "Marshootka" which is a minivan that operates kind of like a taxi or bus. Many of them run from the metro stations to all destinations- they're numbered but other than that, it just looks like a youth group rally with all the similiar vans (except the passengers are largely silent rather than singing about salvation). You pay the driver and he drives his route, stopping when you tell him. I can take either of two to two metro lines that will both get me to the office. The metro here is enormous but also is the population so the cars are always full during rush hours.

When I return home, I am greeted by a beautiful blonde family. The parents are about my age- Nadia is 27 and Sergei is 32. The 7 year old boy, Pasha, has a buzz cut and a rat tail. He is a bit prococious- intelligent and wants to learn and read things. He also likes showing me photos of the family and telling me who everyone is and showing me his toys. Katya is 5, could be a child beauty queen, and is a fluttery little thing- always jumping around except when she is watching a dvd or has an ice cream. She loves to cuddle and will charm anyone within approximately 4 seconds.

They are a protestant family- not so common nor accepted in the land of Orthodoxy. They personify Christianity to a level by which I am humbled. I eat meals on tiny plates (nothing here is super sized!) with them after they say grace and the children never want to finish their meals. But they must eat everything on their plates and finish their Kompot (homemade juice) or hot cocoa before they may have dessert or leave the table.
Meals are simple but tasty. Yesterday, I had a bit of chicken cooked with shredded onions and carrots in oil and salted. It was served with noodles on the side and there were also tomato slices topped with cheese mixed with garlic. The adults have tea adn dessert together after dinner and the children play a bit before getting tucked into bed. Last night we had fresh strawberries :) Not as good as PA strawberries, but I never complain when strawberries appear before me!

The real treat was breakfast- we had blinchik (like a pancake, more like a crepe) rolled up with strawberry jam and served with sweet icing much like what comes with toaster streudles. We also had yogurt. I love european style yogurt- made with whole milk but about half the sugar of yogurt at home. The family eats very healthy food but doesn't eat "low fat" anything so I think I am in the right place!

This moment, I am sitting at my own dest at the office. Two employees are on a monthlong holiday so I get a great desk by a window. It is a small, cramped but friendly office (much like the one I left in D.C. except sunnier!). I will write more about my work later since this entry is getting a bit lengthy and I think I need to do some actual work to write about! Suffice it to say I really think I will like this internship. The work is so interesting and I love the projects they have given me so far.

I will soon write a post about things I have neglected to update, including my two weeks in America!

Paka!

Goodbye, Bologna

How does one begin to sum it all up? To put it all in perspective, to look at it from the outside and appreciate it as a whole… I simply can’t. I’m part of the whole. I can leave and try to start anew… but I am this past nine months and it is me. I will always be in Bologna and the city, SAIS, the people, the food, the laughter, tears, panics, and hopes will always reside within me.

There are more stories, pictures, experiences and lessons than I could ever cover in these silly postings.

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At the top of the tallest tower in Bologna
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So I try to give snapshots but in actuality I will always fall short. To all who read this, I wish you a period of your life when you forget all the rules, when you throw caution to the wind and see what happens, when you let yourself be absorbed by all Italy and its wonderful people offer. Find your Italy and it will stay with you all your days. I can’t but smile though my heart rips into pieces as I leave. I can’t but say thank you to God, to Italy, to SAIS and to each person who made each day brighter than the last. I had no idea life could be this good or that I could be this happy or that I would ever let myself be this happy but now all I can do is smile and know I have found peace.

I remember the girl who flew here so many months ago. She was lost and terrified of the super intelligent people she’d be among and all her habits that didn't fit into the Italian lifestyle.

She’s dead. I ate her.

Oh, and she’s still lost… but she’ll figure it out.