Blogs from Perm, Urals, Russia, Europe - page 3

We've decided to call our kitten Rosie -- as in the "we can do it" Rosie the Riveter -- instead of Tara. Rosie's easier to say, and we orignially chose "Tara" because it sort of sounds like terror and the kitten was scared of everything. But now she's ok with her new home, except the vacuum cleaner and when Sveta collapses the sofa on her paw. I've also changed my hairstyle. Ealier this week, I made my way to a hair salon near our building. Despite my completing a month of language lessons, I can't talk. So I sat in the chair and the woman went to work cutting my hair -- in silence. And, for not the first time, I felt relieved about being a foriegner. I've always had trouble talking with hairstylists and now ... read more

Sveta's friend Zhenya Vorontsov invited us to the stay at her family's dacha yesterday. Her father, Alexander, received the dacha 20 years ago, and with his own hands he built the home, shed, and two bathhouses. His wife Galina transformed the small plot of land into a garden unlike any I have seen before. Beets, onions, tomatos, peppers, strawberries, rasberries, currents, cucumbers, carrots grow alongside roses, lilies, camomiles, and flowers I did not recognize. "Everything you see here you can eat," Sveta explained. At regular intervals, Zhenya has stopped by our apartment to deliver berries, carrots, or potatoes from the other family home in the village. As a result, Sveta and I do not buy produce. Dachas in Russia are all the same size. The Soviet state distributed dachas reward to favored workers, and though some ... read more

Sveta's grandmother was supposed to be buried today, but the Russian state's obsession for proper documentation has made this impossible. This morning, Sveta and I made our way to the funeral home to get flowers and arrange everything prior to the arrival of the guests. The fading wallpaper, and United Russia wall calenders (United Russia is the ruling political party) , and especially the slick attendents whose nameplates read "experts," recalled real estate offices and lower end car dealerships in the United States. A man with half buttoned shirt explained that because the certificate of death had not arrived in time, the funeral would have to wait until Wednesday. We first met this guy the night Sveta's grandmother died. He called us. It seems that the more aggressive entrepreneurs in the death industry here are proactive ... read more

On our way to pick up my HIV certificate, Sveta and I stopped in at the American Club in the Perm library. The club consisted of five girls. In honor of July 4, the club leader, who had studied in America and had some connection with the U.S. Consulate in Yekerinburg, had created an American trivia game for the four other girls who had been divided into two teams. We arrived near the end of the competition, the two teams were basically tied. One category remained: history. Sveta and split up, taking opposite sides. My team -- The Superstars -- won in a squeeker. The girls were overjoyed, not with winning but with having more English-speakers around. With one exception, all wanted to study in the United States and were eager to practice. If only I ... read more