Merry Christmas!
Or as we say over here, С Рождеством Христовым! Russia was a little late on the Gregorian calendar, so our Christmas is still on the Julian calendar which is 13 days off, hence a January 7 Christmas. The bigger holiday of New Year and Christmas is New Year, but Christmas is important also. Grandma Zhenya, my next door neighbor helped me out with one tradition. A few nights ago my doorbell rang at ten pm, I opened it to find two little boys chanting some sort of ditty. She poked her head out the door and told me to go get some candy. Apparently there is some type of Halloweenish tradition with candy at Christmas. I don't fully understand, but she asked them to repeat there song again and then I caught a few more words.
I've posted some new pictures recently: enjoy.
My vacation is nearly over. I've done not a great deal. There was a bit of a mix up and I ended up not meeting the people I had planned on spending New Year's Eve with. In lieu I headed for the big New Year Tree in the center of town. On the way I got one rather neat picture. It was really foggy out. Add fog, a bunch of drunk people, and a New Year Tree and what do you get? Fireworks. Don't ask me how, but you do. There was a fairly nice sized crowd and these little five year old kids were setting off fireworks left and right. On one hand it was particularly amusing to me, but on the other I realized there was some very real danger. As far as I know, nobody was hurt that night, but there have been injuries in the past. One person must have had a little too much holy New Year Water because off to my left the fireworks kept going sideways instead of up. Then they would burn for five or ten seconds. For some of my more pyrotechnical relatives, this celebration would have been great fun. It's called shoot the firework into the crowd without hitting anybody. But if you do, don't run, just walk nonchalantly off. There are a bazillion police around, but they have also had too much New Year Water, so there will be no problem for you.
Wednesday afternoon I received a telephone call from the lady that usually provides me with free tickets. She was asking about my availability on Thursday evening. It seemed interesting that she was very cautious in her manner of asking. After I told her that I would really like to go she persisted in asking me several times if I was sure. Then she spilled the rest of the details - the tickets weren't free, I had to come up with a partner (there were two tickets), and the seating arrangement was different than usual also - no rows, but tables. At this, I wasn't so sure any more. After I hung up, I decided I would call her back and politely decline. However, when I tried about 20 minutes later, she had stepped out. I got ahold of her maybe at 8 pm. I suppose that the chance of finding any other takers at this point were slim, so her demeanor changed from "Are you sure you want to go?" to "Why don't you want to go? I'm sure you'd like it." I don't consider myself too much of a push over, but I was. Now, to find somebody to accompany me to this semi-formal affair.
I called up one of my students. At the end of last semester when I was asking when people wanted to start up the extra English practices, she was the only one who wanted to start early, everybody else wanted an extra week off. It seemed like a nice way to give her some extra practice and provide myself with the required company. The added benefit that she could also serve as a translator, should the need arise, crossed my mind. I had no idea how right I would be about this last point.
My Thursday went decently. I finished up some Russian homework after waking, then stopped by the ticket lady's apartment to pickup and pay for my two tickets on the way to my lesson. Fortunately I arrived a few minutes early. The whole building was locked because of Christmas and there were people wanting to get in. One of them was my instructor who had been on the phone. When I walked up somebody let us in. Nice timing. The lesson wasn't good, wasn't bad, but just was. We worked on different prefixes for verbs of motion. I can't think of the similar thing in English, but it ain't all that easy for me.
Returning home from the lesson, I bedded down for a brief nap because my sleep the night before hadn't been quality and I wanted to be awake for the concert (when I pay for something, it seems more valuable for some strange reason). Two horizontal hours does wonders for ya'. I went grocery shopping. Recently people at home seem to be overly concerned with what I'm eating. While I haven't been starving myself by any stretch of the imagination, some basic foodstuffs were running low (I don't think I've had milk for nearly two weeks). Fridge and freezer well stocked, I happened to stare into the mirror as I walked past. Something had to be done about my stubble. After going through all those pictures of myself (see link above), I thought it was time to bring back a new variation of the facial hair. A few minutes with a razor in hand and I had myself a new look.
After waiting in the freezing cold for about ten minutes, my date showed up. As soon as they opened the doors we headed in. The musicians were still running a sound check, so we waited in the lobby for maybe fifteen minutes. To my great pleasure, I recognized one of the voices. Back a month or so ago in my Balalaika post I raved about this amazing vocalist. It was her. Yes, the evening would be good.
When the hall was opened we moseyed on in and found our table, #9. I was really impressed. The whole place looked drastically different. Not only were the rows gone, but the place was really decorated in A-1 holiday fashion. Table nine was situated in a great place - dead center and a little ways from the stage. Took awhile for the show to get started, but when it did, it was excellent. Five musicians composed the first group - two accordions, one percussionist, one bass player, and one balalaikist. The bass player had this huge balalaika he wailed on occasionally. It had a peg like a cello, only shorter. With it propped up the triangle sound board thing came up to the man's waist. The instrument must have been nearly six feet tall. No, Tyler, I will not bring one like that back for you. Absolutely not. I kept chuckling to myself as the small balalaikist looked exactly like Herbert Eisele, a friend of mine from State-side. For those of you who may know him, imagine him with a semi-serious disgruntled look on his face then put a small balalaika in his hands and have him beat the strings mercilessly. Quite entertaining.
Who should visit next, but Grandfather Frost (the Russian Santa Claus) and his granddaughter, Snegourichka. That old codger had some spunk. It would be more accurate to consider him the second act because he spent quite some time with us. After poking fun at some of the people, he had everybody come up front and sing the 'Yolka song' (words). I didn't really know the words to Oh Christmas Tree in Russian, but fortunately Snegourichka was singing and I followed her lead. So far, so good, Grandfather Frost didn't know that I wasn't Russian. For the next game he picked four volunteers. My luck had just ran out. Fortunately, one of the other four was Olga, my partner in crime for the evening. I told him my name just fine. Then he explained to me that I needed to count to three. I actually understood that part, but Olga translated. To this, Grandfather Frost decided I would be a worthy entertainment point and tried to find out what language I spoke. The game was when he said three, all of us dive for his bag of presents. After several false starts he was talking about something and said three hours. Only one person was quick enough and it wasn't me. But I did get a fine pair of baby booties from his sack. He did several other things including an auction and a hodge-podge orchestra before he left.
The next act was the singers. Amazing. Four women and one accordion-playing man. For this concert the women weren't miked, but they didn't need amplification whatsoever. I remember at some of the big Drum Corps International shows I attended during high school the bands would create this wall of sound just a shade short of crass; these four women did the same sort of thing. They kind of shook your stomach with their harmony and sheer volume...I was exceptionally happy. The lady whose voice I recognized did this spoon routine. Reminded me of trying to "play the spoons" when I put the dishes away when younger. Except she was good. They also had some audience involvement. An old lady and I were chosen for one selection. We sat in chairs while they sang - a marriage song. I got this big hat and she a shawl. Some sort of Russian tradition. Now I can say I'm really married to an old Russian hag if people ask. Olga told me I looked funny which was probably somewhat of an understatement.
After a little bit longer, the evening finished. The concert ran pretty late as I expected. My date's mother came to pick her up so she left about twenty minutes early. The weather was nice, so I walked home and got there around 23:30. I'd say that my 600 rubles was well spent.
A good part of this past week has found me in front of my computer. I've accomplished a few things, but one of the most exciting has been reconnecting with some friends via instant messaging. As I've had time over the past few months, I've been sorting through all my contacts and trying to put together a useful up-to-date address book. Just over a week ago I snapped the IM client piece of the puzzle in. I've been pleasantly surprised to see people I haven't spoken with in a long time pop up as available. Talked with a girl who is doing the same type of English work as I am, but she is in Korea. Talked with my best friend from elementary school. Talked with my mother - maybe that one doesn't count, but I'd never done it before.
[+/-] the rest of the story....
I've posted some new pictures recently: enjoy.
- Photo shoot at the KELC
- Pictures of Troy from about the past two years
- Christmas 2004 for the folks back home
- Thanksgiving 2004 for the same folks back at home
- Thanksgiving 2002 - yeah, kinda old, but still mildly interesting
My vacation is nearly over. I've done not a great deal. There was a bit of a mix up and I ended up not meeting the people I had planned on spending New Year's Eve with. In lieu I headed for the big New Year Tree in the center of town. On the way I got one rather neat picture. It was really foggy out. Add fog, a bunch of drunk people, and a New Year Tree and what do you get? Fireworks. Don't ask me how, but you do. There was a fairly nice sized crowd and these little five year old kids were setting off fireworks left and right. On one hand it was particularly amusing to me, but on the other I realized there was some very real danger. As far as I know, nobody was hurt that night, but there have been injuries in the past. One person must have had a little too much holy New Year Water because off to my left the fireworks kept going sideways instead of up. Then they would burn for five or ten seconds. For some of my more pyrotechnical relatives, this celebration would have been great fun. It's called shoot the firework into the crowd without hitting anybody. But if you do, don't run, just walk nonchalantly off. There are a bazillion police around, but they have also had too much New Year Water, so there will be no problem for you.
Wednesday afternoon I received a telephone call from the lady that usually provides me with free tickets. She was asking about my availability on Thursday evening. It seemed interesting that she was very cautious in her manner of asking. After I told her that I would really like to go she persisted in asking me several times if I was sure. Then she spilled the rest of the details - the tickets weren't free, I had to come up with a partner (there were two tickets), and the seating arrangement was different than usual also - no rows, but tables. At this, I wasn't so sure any more. After I hung up, I decided I would call her back and politely decline. However, when I tried about 20 minutes later, she had stepped out. I got ahold of her maybe at 8 pm. I suppose that the chance of finding any other takers at this point were slim, so her demeanor changed from "Are you sure you want to go?" to "Why don't you want to go? I'm sure you'd like it." I don't consider myself too much of a push over, but I was. Now, to find somebody to accompany me to this semi-formal affair.
I called up one of my students. At the end of last semester when I was asking when people wanted to start up the extra English practices, she was the only one who wanted to start early, everybody else wanted an extra week off. It seemed like a nice way to give her some extra practice and provide myself with the required company. The added benefit that she could also serve as a translator, should the need arise, crossed my mind. I had no idea how right I would be about this last point.
My Thursday went decently. I finished up some Russian homework after waking, then stopped by the ticket lady's apartment to pickup and pay for my two tickets on the way to my lesson. Fortunately I arrived a few minutes early. The whole building was locked because of Christmas and there were people wanting to get in. One of them was my instructor who had been on the phone. When I walked up somebody let us in. Nice timing. The lesson wasn't good, wasn't bad, but just was. We worked on different prefixes for verbs of motion. I can't think of the similar thing in English, but it ain't all that easy for me.
Returning home from the lesson, I bedded down for a brief nap because my sleep the night before hadn't been quality and I wanted to be awake for the concert (when I pay for something, it seems more valuable for some strange reason). Two horizontal hours does wonders for ya'. I went grocery shopping. Recently people at home seem to be overly concerned with what I'm eating. While I haven't been starving myself by any stretch of the imagination, some basic foodstuffs were running low (I don't think I've had milk for nearly two weeks). Fridge and freezer well stocked, I happened to stare into the mirror as I walked past. Something had to be done about my stubble. After going through all those pictures of myself (see link above), I thought it was time to bring back a new variation of the facial hair. A few minutes with a razor in hand and I had myself a new look.
After waiting in the freezing cold for about ten minutes, my date showed up. As soon as they opened the doors we headed in. The musicians were still running a sound check, so we waited in the lobby for maybe fifteen minutes. To my great pleasure, I recognized one of the voices. Back a month or so ago in my Balalaika post I raved about this amazing vocalist. It was her. Yes, the evening would be good.
When the hall was opened we moseyed on in and found our table, #9. I was really impressed. The whole place looked drastically different. Not only were the rows gone, but the place was really decorated in A-1 holiday fashion. Table nine was situated in a great place - dead center and a little ways from the stage. Took awhile for the show to get started, but when it did, it was excellent. Five musicians composed the first group - two accordions, one percussionist, one bass player, and one balalaikist. The bass player had this huge balalaika he wailed on occasionally. It had a peg like a cello, only shorter. With it propped up the triangle sound board thing came up to the man's waist. The instrument must have been nearly six feet tall. No, Tyler, I will not bring one like that back for you. Absolutely not. I kept chuckling to myself as the small balalaikist looked exactly like Herbert Eisele, a friend of mine from State-side. For those of you who may know him, imagine him with a semi-serious disgruntled look on his face then put a small balalaika in his hands and have him beat the strings mercilessly. Quite entertaining.
Who should visit next, but Grandfather Frost (the Russian Santa Claus) and his granddaughter, Snegourichka. That old codger had some spunk. It would be more accurate to consider him the second act because he spent quite some time with us. After poking fun at some of the people, he had everybody come up front and sing the 'Yolka song' (words). I didn't really know the words to Oh Christmas Tree in Russian, but fortunately Snegourichka was singing and I followed her lead. So far, so good, Grandfather Frost didn't know that I wasn't Russian. For the next game he picked four volunteers. My luck had just ran out. Fortunately, one of the other four was Olga, my partner in crime for the evening. I told him my name just fine. Then he explained to me that I needed to count to three. I actually understood that part, but Olga translated. To this, Grandfather Frost decided I would be a worthy entertainment point and tried to find out what language I spoke. The game was when he said three, all of us dive for his bag of presents. After several false starts he was talking about something and said three hours. Only one person was quick enough and it wasn't me. But I did get a fine pair of baby booties from his sack. He did several other things including an auction and a hodge-podge orchestra before he left.
The next act was the singers. Amazing. Four women and one accordion-playing man. For this concert the women weren't miked, but they didn't need amplification whatsoever. I remember at some of the big Drum Corps International shows I attended during high school the bands would create this wall of sound just a shade short of crass; these four women did the same sort of thing. They kind of shook your stomach with their harmony and sheer volume...I was exceptionally happy. The lady whose voice I recognized did this spoon routine. Reminded me of trying to "play the spoons" when I put the dishes away when younger. Except she was good. They also had some audience involvement. An old lady and I were chosen for one selection. We sat in chairs while they sang - a marriage song. I got this big hat and she a shawl. Some sort of Russian tradition. Now I can say I'm really married to an old Russian hag if people ask. Olga told me I looked funny which was probably somewhat of an understatement.
After a little bit longer, the evening finished. The concert ran pretty late as I expected. My date's mother came to pick her up so she left about twenty minutes early. The weather was nice, so I walked home and got there around 23:30. I'd say that my 600 rubles was well spent.
A good part of this past week has found me in front of my computer. I've accomplished a few things, but one of the most exciting has been reconnecting with some friends via instant messaging. As I've had time over the past few months, I've been sorting through all my contacts and trying to put together a useful up-to-date address book. Just over a week ago I snapped the IM client piece of the puzzle in. I've been pleasantly surprised to see people I haven't spoken with in a long time pop up as available. Talked with a girl who is doing the same type of English work as I am, but she is in Korea. Talked with my best friend from elementary school. Talked with my mother - maybe that one doesn't count, but I'd never done it before.
posted by Troy on 22:00
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