May 7, 2008: Russia day 2, the complete report

*attention* Read the previous post on Finland first to follow everything chronologically. It’ll make more sense!

This morning I wrote a loooong, detailed report on yesterday’s painful arrival into St. Petersburg which included sweeping generalizations and harsh criticisms of an entire nation I spent less than 24 hours in. I’ve decided to swap it for a more accurate account based on a fresh new perspective of Russia which came as a result of waking up to a whole new day. Dean Martin, you were right. What a difference a day makes indeed. I’ll be honest; yesterday I was pretty close to tears, ready to get back on the train to Helsinki and piss all over the Russian experience. We were greeted with a kick in the balls and a ‘you’re on your own’ attitude that hit me hard. Cold stares outnumbered the mangy pigeons on the streets and I was convinced there’d be no way into Russia’s core and that we’d be stuck above this icy facade our entire stay. I’ll let this photo speak for our ordeal at the train station; it pretty much says it all. If you’re confused by what you’re looking it, its a wheelchair ramp. Thats right, its expected that if you’re in a wheelchair, you will hoist yourself upon these iron rails and plummet to your death. Or you can look at it more metaphorically. Russia is like these handicapped rails; if you don’t have the balls to give it a shot, you’ll never get any further from where you are.

This is me in the death-cab on the way to our apartment. This was one of those cab rides that you see so exaggerated on TV say, from India or hey! Russia! Our driver was a maniac and apparently I was the only one in the car with white knuckles, eyes bugging out and face drained of color. My mom was quietly laughing up a storm (as crazy drivers apparently are the funniest thing to her) and my dad was enjoying the sights out the window and loving every minute of it. At one point our driver pulled out a loudspeaker (wtf?!) and yelled at some parked car to our right. Yeah, good times.

But like I said, a new day makes all the difference. Today we woke up and ate some tasty piroshkis and cakes with tea and coffee at a charming little cafe all for mere chump change. I found an internet cafe that actually worked and even made some photocopies of our passports at a neat Kinko’s lookalike. On our way to a well-known market, an old lady stopped to tell us about a building we were looking at and explained that it used to be a grand hotel for all kinds of socialites, writers, poets and actors in the early 1900’s. At the Kuznechny Market we were in heaven surrounded by fruits, veggies, pickled specialties, meats, honey, cream, bread, fish, all from the many corners of the former  Soviet Union. Samples were handed out wherever we went and the clerks called out to me, “young lady! what do you desire? please tell me young lady!” The best part was the impromptu accordion performance given by an old man in one of the stalls. Well, actually that was one best part. The actual really best part was my dad talking with a couple of guys from Tajikistan who were selling fruits and veggies. Conversation ensued and one of them asked if I was married yet. My dad laughed and told me, “he just asked me if you were married yet.” I told the guy “oh.. no. Not me.” He then told me that I could stay in Russia and marry him and take him back to America with me. Alright! My idea of a good time! I decided we should move on before my dad traded me for a sack of oranges and we made our way to the honey stand. There my dad called the lady a ‘Grazhdanka’ which in Russian means ‘lady citizen’ and apparently is a very outdated pre-soviet term which made the lady laugh. I told my dad, better you don’t call people by that term from here on. He agreed. Later we accidentally found Dostoevsky’s apartment and popped in for a tour. It was tiny but very cool and amazing; I was standing in the very same place that the man who wrote Crime and Punishment breathed his dying breath. Wow. (note to self: finish reading that book. Shame on you Marnie, shame.) After that we got back to the apartment, ate the goodies from the market and called it a day. I realized that today Russia finally let us in; I suppose it just needed some time. And I’m glad that I gave it some time because I’m starting to see what this place is all about and I’m slowly starting to love it. Russia isn’t easy and the ratio of discouragement to satisfaction looms rather high but you can’t let it get you down. This is one hard nut to crack for sure, but if you give it a chance you’ll find a pretty delicious creamy filling waiting inside (just don’t expect that creamy filling to be less than 5000 calories).


Main square in St. Petersburg, or as it says here, Leningrad.

The coolest Optometrist’s office I’ve ever seen.


This is a pack of Dostoevsky’s cigarettes. On the day that he died, his daughter wrote on the back of the box, “January 28, 1881, today my dad died.” Pretty amazing.


The Kuznechny Market of fun!


Very friendly lady who sold us some crazy-amazing honey that is supposedly medicinal and super good for you.


This is one dumpy looking Marnie pretending to eat a whole pickled garlic. Here are some of the goodies we came away with from the market.
Thats it for now! I’ll put together another monster post the next time I get a chance. It might not be until Moscow or even London but I’ll do my best to make it sooner! Dosvedanya!