Numbers

I've just finished the final installment of Штрафбат (schtrafbat), the series I've been watching on television. It has left me feeling like I did after leaving the movie theater when I saw Saving Private Ryan for the first time. I went with my girlfriend and her family. As we drove to the theater I wouldn't classify our mood as being jovial, but we were rather carefree - not at all prepared for the experience that awaited us inside. Carnage permeates the movie, but something that stuck with me was how it was just one story of countless others - full of life and what it means to be human. The immensity of that is impossible, I think, to convey in words.textshown It is like the plastic bag scene from American Beauty. Or seeing Phantom of the Opera for the first time. Or being at a DCI competition. Or reading To Kill A Mockingbird. Or talking with the man who discovered restriction enzymes. Or driving past the Robert Mangaliso Sobukwe garden. Or listening to the stars sing in the middle of nowhere. Where Saving Private Ryan is my recommendation for how the war in Europe may have looked from the American perspective, Штрафбат seems to be a realistic interpretation of the Russian side of the same story. The word штрафбат refers to a man who was in prison for either criminal acts or because he was on Stalin's black list. With a war raging and millions of able bodied men sitting in prison, it didn't make sense not to use them. These штрафбатs were placed way out on the front lines, a type of barrier between the advancing Germans and the 'proper' Red Army. Since I only caught the last half of the episodes, I'm not sure exactly how it started. Being that it is war, the end isn't too difficult to guess. The excellent cast of convicts is reduced to a pile of flesh. As the camera pans the remains, each man and his story come to mind. One question remains in my mind: Why? Without getting on any type of political soap box I would like to say that war has always and will always be an abominable thing. Scientific, economic, and artistic reformations it may spark, but the ends most certainly do not justify the means. I'll end this paragraph on a somber upbeat note, I give Штрафбат three thumbs up - two of mine and one from the dude laying in the remains of his uniform.

In other news, today is a day of many numbers. I'll try to rattle off a few. In one week it is my birthday: I will be 24 (that means I no longer qualify for my dad's medical insurance). Two weeks ago I was recuperating from a few small earthquakes and minor flooding due to Hurricane Washing Machine. In three weeks I'll have written one-tenth of a novel. A month ago I arrived in Kaliningrad knowing of one person, and not quite sure what I was in for. That is good enough.

My birthday. I don't think I've really looked forward to this yearly occurrence since I was much younger. Most years it seems to sneak up on me before I know it and I am usually able to be busy enough not to bother that much with it. I've never understood why people make such a big deal over the day they were born. Maybe this is one of the finer things I'll acquire as life deals me her blows - an appreciation for the simple pleasure of blowing out the ever increasing number of candles on the cake.

Hurricane Washing Machineroo. Honestly, I didn't have to recoup all that much. I think I stayed up late the night of and then slept in till noon or so. This was included because I needed something for two weeks, and an earthquake sounds exciting. The worst thing it did to me was give me problems going to sleep the other night when there was another 'earthquake watch' in affect.

NaNoWriMo. I was planning to devote an entire blog entry to this (I still might). My cousin sent me a link to his blog and after poking around a little, decided that the National Novel Writing Month event would be an excellent use of my time. The name of the particular institute slips my mind, but at one of the big art schools in New York City, incoming students are given a crash art task to help break down their natural defenses. They are given supplies and forced to draw constantly for 24 hours. The end result is impressive, or so I hear. Instead of second guessing and striving for perfection at the risk of creativity, the freshmen draw more freely - the brain doesn't interfere with the heart (as much). I'm hoping to achieve something similar through my first novel. The guidelines state that I must write 50 000 words (translation: about 175 pages) during the 30 days of November. To date, this blog contains roughly 15 000 words, so 50k isn't unimaginable, but it will take some doing for sure. My main gripe with these blog entries is that I overuse the word 'so,' and so I'm like ya' know hoping that like writing a novel will totally diminish like my so-usage. Getting 50k words under my belt can only help me as a blogger and in other future literary endeavors.

Kaliningrad. From the looks of things, I've acclimated to my new environment. Just a month after arriving I have got my apartment situated to my liking, know all my students names (tried to do that the first week), have a decent grasp on transportation around the city, and can live with the silence inherent with being a bachelor. Not bad. My main gripe is that I haven't made as much progress with the language as I thought I would. It is a little scary to realize that I've been here one month because that means there are under eleven left. Eleven months during which time I must become as close to bilingual as I'll probably ever get. The pressure is on.

A little note about the [+/-] button on the posts. The main page of the blog was rather long for my tastes. As of now, only the first new post will be displayed in its entirety. All the rest will show a paragraph and an expansion link to read more. I expect for there to be problems, so if it isn't too much of a hassle, I'd appreciate feedback as to what does and doesn't work. Just drop me an email or leave a comment on one of the posts stating what the problem is, what browser you are using, and what operating system you're running. Thanks for reading!