September
26, 2003
An
American in Vladimir: Susan Scotto Heads Up
New Study Abroad Program
Beginning this
year, MHC, in conjunction with Colgate University, is offering
a fall-semester study abroad program in Russia. Senior lecturer
in Russian Susan Scotto, the director of this semester's Moscow
Study Abroad Program, has been sending regular updates back to
campus. Here are excerpts from her first report.
August 10, 2003
We've been in Russia
just over a week now, a week that for everyone has been filled
with new impressions, foods, and vocabulary. We've shocked Russians
(and even ourselves!) with the amount of luggage we brought with
us, and which barely fit in any means of conveyance we've used;
we've been shocked ourselves at the lack of air circulation in
our apartments during the recent heat wave; we've been stared
at and have stared at people in return; we've managed to buy water
and other goodies in stores, even though the people behind us
grumble that we're holding up the line; we've tried out our Russian
in myriad situations, with varying levels of success; we've gotten
lost and then found our way again, sometimes simply by virtue
of our own perseverance, other times with the help of well-wishing
strangers; some of us have already had marriage proposals (don't
worry, no one has yet accepted!); we've seen lots of cats and
dogs, which we enjoy petting and which make us miss the pets we
left at home; and we've been fed and fed and fed some more, with
a large dose of tea on top for good measure. In short, although
we've only been here just over a week, we've already had so many
adventures that it seems we must have already been here at least
a month.
We arrived in Moscow
midday on August 1 and were greeted by hot, sunny weather. After
getting settled in our rooms (unair-conditioned, shower curtain-less,
but with excellent views) at the Hotel Rossiya at the base of
Red Square, we set out for the Oxotnyi Riad underground mall to
have dinner. We'd hoped to have a stroll across Red Square, but
were disappointed to find out that it was closed off. (We subsequently
learned that it had been closed in preparation for the next day's
Paratrooper Day festivities.) We did have a good look at St. Basil's
Cathedral, though, and as we made our way toward the mall, we
followed in the footsteps of a wedding party making its rounds
to the various spots that all Moscow newlyweds visit.
The next morning,
our hosts from the KORA Institute in Vladimir came for us in two
minibuses, into which we barely managed to cram ourselves and
all our luggage. During the three-hour drive east to Vladimir
from Moscow we got a good chance to observe not only the landscape,
but also the crazy driving habits of the Russians. Upon arriving
in Vladimir, we dropped some students off directly at their host
families' apartments and took others to the institute, where their
families picked them up. This was one of the hardest moments the
students have had, I think, especially those who didn't speak
a word of Russian. But by the time we all reconvened the next
day for the first of our excursions to the city's central gates,
called the Golden Gates, everyone had had at least a little sleep
and a lot of food. Some of us bought ice cream from a nearby little
stand, and nearly everyone bought bottled water from a kiosk,
much to the amusement of the saleslady, who had to contend with
Americans who were still figuring out how to ask for a bottle
of water and having trouble understanding the price she named.
(By now, a week later, I think everyone is already a pro at this
key skill!)
Classes at KORA began
on Monday. When I asked at lunchtime how they found the classes,
answers ranged from "humbling" to "not bad" to "fine." Of course,
we were still all in the throes of jet lag at this point, and
some people hadn't really slept much the night before -- I myself
had been up at 1:30 having a snack, since it really was dinnertime
-- but even so, the teachers were very impressed by how hard all
the students were working, especially the "nulevye" (the students
who'd started from nothing).
Every day after class
we have lunch at a nearby restaurant where we're served a first
course of cheese or cucumbers or carrot, followed by the ubiquitous
soup course. So far we've had borscht and Russian chicken noodle,
among others. The main course has ranged from bliny (rolled-up
crepelike pancakes) to fried chicken breast, to a thin beef stew
served in a crock. For dessert we have ice cream, sometimes topped
with red currants, sometimes with syrup of indiscernible origin,
sometimes with finely chopped nuts. And, of course, there's tea
and, to the consternation of our waitresses, we drink lots and
lots and lots of bottled water.
• • •
So, what are our
apartments and host families like? Some students live on the edge
of town in high-rises of ten to twelve stories; others of us live
in lower buildings, but we all have some sort of yard or strip
of grass or weeds or dirt adjacent to our houses where, at different
times of day, you can see kids playing, elderly residents sharing
news, and young people hanging out smoking. But no matter who
they are, they all notice us as we pass by, although they generally
don't say anything to us, as of yet. As you might expect, our
apartments are small, by American standards, usually with one
or two bedrooms, plus a largish central living-room-type room.
The kitchens are, as a rule, small, and many students have said
that no more than one person can really move around comfortably
in their kitchen. Seating three or more people at the kitchen
table often calls for highly creative placement of both furniture
and humans. Some of us have hot water, some of us don't (either
because repairs are being done on the system, or because it's
simply the time of year for the annual flushing of the system,
which takes a couple of weeks). Some of our stairwells are lighted,
many are not, making the trip from street to apartment a challenge,
especially when it comes time to negotiate the door locks, which
can be strange and complicated. But pretty much all the students
have noted that their individual apartments are spotless, well
cared-for, and home to interesting decorations, people, and, in
many cases, cats. (One student's cat is named Bill Clinton!)
Nearly every day I
ask the students what they've been given to eat at home. The main
theme is one of excess -- the host moms regularly give them more
food than they want to consume, whether it's porridge or eggs
or macaroni and cheese at breakfast, or soup, chicken, or pelmeni (Russian
ravioli) for dinner. And, of course, there's tea, at numerous
times during the day, and it's generally accompanied by something
sweet -- candies, cookies -- and conversation. Many of the students
have written that the teatime ritual is one of their favorite
times with their families.
• • •
It seems that every
day, as the students go to new places and meet new people, more
and more questions arise. We wonder, among other things, what
the Russians think of us when they see us walking down the street;
where all the toilet seats have gone; how the host moms have time
to do everything they do; why so many Russian TV shows start not
on the hour or half hour, but at, say, 7:35 or 9:50. Finally,
I personally want to establish once and for all why the lower
halves of trunks of the trees lining many streets, as well as
seemingly random trees, are painted white; I've been asking everyone
I can for an explanation. I'll let you know the answer to this
and other questions as we find out, so stay tuned for our further
updates.
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