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