In Which I Become One with the Bears

Comrades of all Ages;

Well, it's a Sunday night and I have about eight pounds of homework to catch up on as I was sick this past weekend/Monday. Nevertheless, I shall press on and attempt to impress my adoring fans with glorious tales of life in the land of the bears.

Speaking of which, I petted a bear. Like an actual bear. He was drinking from a bottle and sitting on a bench. The trainer wanted me to sit on his lap, but as it was A LIVE BEAR, I politely declined/used my limited Russian vocabulary to say "No thanks, I only want to pet it." (Which came out as something like "No, only..." and then frantic petting motions with my hands.) Pictures were 200 rubles, and as I am cheap except when it comes to buying insane amounts of garlic bread, I cannot provide you with proof. But below is a picture of the bear.

Just kidding, I just think that this is one awesome animal duo. This is the actual bear.

Although this was a while ago, I suppose I should write something about this wonderful little city called Novgorod. Last weekend, my shkolniki and I traveled by bus to Novgorod, which recently celebrated its 1150th birthday. Celebrations featured pony rides, children running around in blow-up balls, and large statues of Lenin. Often, the children in the blow-up balls would roll full speed into the large statue of Lenin, who would look down on them with a very Lenin-like expression. 

The city itself was actually beautiful. There were about 80 billion churches to look at, which, of course, I can never get enough of. My favorite was a church with a path around it on which women (and I suppose men, if their nature so calls for it) could walk. Supposedly, if a woman wishes really, really hard and walks all the way around, she will be bestowed with a rich, beautiful husband. The tour guide didn't give us the chance to see it, but later that night I went and did a few hundred laps. I told the spirits that I don't need beautiful, just rich. I'm eagerly awaiting my mail-order Russian husband. 

A picture of one of the many churches. 

A view from a Novgorod house.

Perhaps the most exciting part of the trip was the voyage back to St. Petersburg. The ride itself was supposed to take about three hours, but due to a traffic jam, we were stuck on a bus with one small bathroom and 30 of our peers for roughly ten hours. We played a game of Mafia (in which three Mafia members defeated 28 other players,) listened to a Russian man named Nikita sing his version of "Last Friday Night" (in which we explained to him what "hickey" meant,) and hit around a blown-up garbage bag (in which we realized that we had made it past the point of bonding and just wanted to get the heck off of the bus.) 

I spent the next day at home in bed with a slight fever and a hatred for Russia's lack of modern medicine. Mama Masha, bless her soul, decided to take matters into her own hands by giving me a little contraption whose name I did not catch. All I know is that it was large, smelled of smoke, had two little pipes to stick in my nostrils, and emitted a light that I "could not look directly at since it would hurt my brain." So naturally she proceeded to stick it into my brain. 

Well, I suppose I will leave you with that image. As for your Russian bit o' knowledge for the week, the longest word of the Russian language is достопримечательность (dostoprimechatelnost) which means "tourism." These bears will express my farewell.

http://www.buzzfeed.com/lyapalater/10-bears-waving-at-you

Let's Get it Started (Again)

Dear Devoted Readers;

I am sure that some time ago, many of you woke up, hustled to check my blog (as you do every day, no doubt) and were struck with a heart attack when you saw that the invisible Google gods had removed it. Well, you can officially check yourself out of the hospital, because BEARS, BEETS, AND BABUSHKAS IS BACK, Y'ALL! And it has been almost two whole weeks since the start of my work to seduce Putin and become the queen of Russia. Much has happened, so I suppose I will fill you in on the highlights. Get ready to have your socks rocked clean off of your feet.

On the first day here, I fell asleep at the still-daylight-hour of 7:30 PM. I just thought that was important because that has not happened to me since I was about six years old. The next forty-eight hours were filled with get-to-know-you activities, orientations, and figuring out the Russian electrical system (I spent about half an hour tugging and banging on a little light cube on the wall before I figured out that you have to use your key card turn turn the lights on) so I will spare you the details.

Anyway, on Friday I was fortunate enough to enter the home of Maria Nikolaevna, my host mother and new best friend. She is about 60, has short white hair, and is very similar to Consuela of Family Guy. Our conversations normally go something like this:

Except it's concerning whether or not I bring the umbrella. Every morning at breakfast, she looks out the window and says, "Сегодня, идёт дождь," (Sevodnja, idyot dozhd) or "Сегодня, не идёт дождь," (Sevodnja, nye idyot dozhd) which means "Today, it will rain," or, "Today, it will not rain." This determines whether or not I bring the umbrella. Usually, our attempts at conversation resemble a tennis match in which she serves the ball, I swing, and I miss completely and must frantically run and retrieve the ball while she judges me.

I also wish to address the Russian custom of eating everything on their plate. Let me give you a bit o' history and tell you why this is. During World War II, the German army attempted to take the city of Saint Petersburg (at that time, Leningrad) in order to gain access to its tank/weapons factories. Like the comrades that they were, the Russians banded together and stopped the the Germans from infiltrating the city. While they were successful (Leningrad became the first Western city which Hitler was unable to infiltrate,) millions of people died of starvation due to the blockade; since food and supplies couldn't get through, borscht could not be made, and much of the city perished. Now, it is a custom to eat everything one is given. While I respect this tradition, it is very difficult to eat a plate of vegetables, a salad (or rather, tomato slices,) bread, and two hot dogs. However, it makes it very delightful to eat pancakes, which I have been stuffing myself with for about a week straight.

Just in case you want to make your own blini adventure, I have included a recipe very similar to my own babushka's:
http://allrecipes.com/recipe/blini-russian-pancakes/

Well, that is all for today, folks. I leave you with a clip of this Russian version of Winnie the Pooh. (Вини-Пух, or Vini-Puhkh.)

It doesn't have subtitles, but I don't think you need them.