Time Passes By

It seems as if my plans to keep what I did on my Women's Day secret until the accompanying pictures were ready was not meant to be. For nearly the past three days, I've been attempting to recover 181 pictures off of the memory card for my digital camera. So far, no beans. Which is too bad. I'm not exactly sure why, but I decided to let a weeks worth of pictures pile up on the card before unloading it. That means that the pictures I wished could have a smell element, the pictures of my final class with students this semester, the pictures I took walking on the river, and some other random shots are all gone.

March 8th was a bright sunny day, so like the smart boy I am I headed off for a large bridge that crosses the main river that runs through Kaliningrad. It was nicely frozen and I walked around on it for a few hours. Only fell in a few times, but fortunately had planned on that and wrapped my legs with Russian duct tape - plastic bags. It was really fun for me. I came to a bums 'house,' but it was vacant. Then I climbed a power tower and took a picture of the sole pair of tracks through the snow - mine. At one place I even made a snow angel and put some designs around it with my tracks. Honestly, I haven't made one of those in who knows how long. It was a day to be a little boy again and make some cool pictures. But, unless inspiration, lightning, or some combination strike me soon, I don't think those shots will ever be seen again.

I didn't wind up getting stuck with as much candy as usual from the end of the semester parties. When I announced the tea party, I didn't speak simply enough for the lower levels, and my upper levels thought I was kidding. All I had to consume was a box of chocolates and a few cookies - way to go!

Last Sabbath afternoon I invited myself over for lunch to a man's house. He teaches German in several schools here in Kaliningrad. I was there until about 9 in the evening having a great time. Some of what we discussed could be dangerous in the wrong hands, so I'll just share a few vignettes. He is 11 years my senior, unmarried, and seems to share some of the common interests and questions as I do. While we were waiting for the meal of vegetables, fish, and porridge to get ready, he led me on a musical tour of his small collection. One song struck home with me. I don't remember the name of the artist though. It is a Polish song is similar in style to some Klezmatics ballads that I've heard. The lyrics describe a man who is in a boat on the lake fishing. He throws out the net, bait, and waits. He has no idea what is out there, but waits just the same. At one point in the song, some sharks in the distance ask what this 'fish' is doing out of water. Then in another section, the singer proclaims that the fisherman knows what he is thinking, but what are the fish thinking of him. An incredibly catchy tune melded with a simplistic, yet deep message made for a great time. At first I thought it was in Russian, but my friend explained that it was in Polish as he translated to me.

In his apartment he has satellite television with about 30 German channels, and 1 English channel. He says that that is what keeps him from getting homesick, being able to turn on the television and see/hear what is happening in his native tongue. This raised an interesting question for me. Do I depend on the Internet as my anti-homesickness medication?

As I walked home, an unwelcome thought popped into my head. I know that home (in America) will have changed while I've been away. I know that I will have changed also. Previously I expected some strangeness accompanying my return to the US, but was looking forward to the challenge. A natural extension of some of our conversation that afternoon and evening led me to wonder what would happen if the disconnect between me and everything else was so great that I didn't want to stay in the US any longer. For part of the walk home, I rolled that thought around in my head, but by the time I arrived at my flat I had an answer. If I were able to know exactly what will happen in the future, what is the fun in that? Maybe I return and reintegrate without any hitches, or maybe I can't function and catch the next plane back to Russia. But in this uncertainty is where the excitement lies for me. One way or the other it will continue to be the adventure of my life, and that is something that I can afford to live in realtime.

Sunday morning I managed to drag myself to the choir rehearsal. I'm surprised that I haven't lost all my sight reading abilities. Of course, the bass line for hymns isn't the most challenging thing in the world, but still. Afterwards, the choir director, two people my age (both named Sasha, one boy and one girl), and Sasha-the-girl's mother drove me to the sea. This was the first time I actually got to walk along the sea since coming. It was mighty chilly, but fun. One thing that was interesting was an ocean front restaurant. Sometime ago, the establishment folded, but the building (or its remains) remain. The two Sashas and I explored it - some really beautiful graffiti inside. The pictures from this adventure are safe and sound (so far), but I've not chucked them up yet either. Probably before the 4th of July. ;)

Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday were registration for the next semester. On Monday, my dear director Nina called and yelled at me over the phone for a bit. I've gone and started my never-to-be-mailed letter collection as a result of our (rather one-sided) conversation. At the heart of the matter was the fact that two of my students still had not finished paying for last semester. There was a slight mix up and I didn't realize this when I made the first rounds asking for delinquent students to pay up, then forgot about it. On the last day of class, they told me that they would come by early the next week, and I left it at that. They did come and pay as they said they would, but I don't think things are quite right between the boss and myself yet. Not really related, but kinda sorta: we had our regularly scheduled lesson on Wednesday morning. Her daughter was playing on the table where we were studying and decided to take a leak. So I got my pants covered with a warm dose of freshly squeezed lemonade. Remind me to order my future kids pre-potty trained.

When I woke up and checked my email on Wednesday morning, I knew that there would be trouble. Outside it was snowing, but according to the weather, it was only 0 degrees. Sure enough, by the time I came home, things were melting quite rapidly. Moskovskiy Street looked like a small river - maybe six inches deep in some places - and I had to cross it on foot! One side of me is sad that the snow/ice covering is disappearing. It has been really nice not needing to worry about mud splashing all over the place. That and every other day a fresh white covering all around. Hopefully I can get some more snow, but realistically I think this year is just about all snowed out. I even heard that next Wednesday it is supposed to be warm - 6 degrees!

Back off, bitch!

Hello?! What happened to the quasi-family oriented vocabulary? Well, it is still doing quite fine, thank you. Please remove your mind from the gutter. A week ago Tuesday as I was walking to my Russian lesson I came to a bridge. Not a big deal. Other than being less slippery than usual nothing was different. Until I got halfway across. And there she was....the most ugly dog I'd seen that day. Minding her own business, mind you, but still looking rather motley. Anyhow that is what I thought to myself behind some serious shades and a hood to ward off the chill. If you aren't aware of the fact, dogs are empathic and that bitch read my mind. She barked as if to say, "I don't like your attitude, and yes, I do speak English," jumped up and tried for my right arm, missed, and then nipped my leg as I stomped on by. Well, as I am wont to do, I plowed on ahead without a second thought. (For the worried parents among you, the leg wound drew blood, but did not break through my jeans. Now it is fully healed.)

For the erudite amongst all y'all, you are aware that yesterday was a large holiday for women, the world round. Why I've only heard about International Women's Day in relation to Russia (or former portions of the USSR) is beyond me for it appears to be the result of a women's strike in New York City. If your first thought on my title was something to the effect that millions of eligible Kaliningradites were barking at my door yesterday you are sorely mistaken. As a matter of fact, I didn't actually speak a single word to another sentient being all day. However, I have decided not to whet your appetite by describing my activities yesterday until the accompanying pictures are ready. Stay tuned.

Thursday as I headed for the office, my neighbor was coming out to do some shopping. We spoke for a few minutes and she inquired how I found the people. I said they were quite nice and she finished my thought with the definitive reason - the Soviet Union. All of the people are bound together in a union and therefore truly care for each other. Sounds nice, but I'm not exactly sure if all Russians really care for each other.

En route to my lesson on Friday morning, my eyes were peeled for my carnivorous canine. I even rehearsed a 'nice doggy' speech to myself. She opted not to show her face. A strange idea came to me during my half hour hike. The weather was virtually identical to my trek on Tuesday, but distinctly different. If anything there was an even thicker blanket of snow atop the frozen lake, yet the smell of spring was in the air. Back to my crazy thought, wouldn't it be great if smell could be taken along with a photograph? That way when somebody views a picture I took on Tuesday and compares it with a similar shot on Friday they could see something different. Personally, I don't think a digital smellarometer is a good idea, but please feel free to prove me wrong!

At the close of the lesson, my teacher explained that she was meeting her sister to go put flowers on the grave of their three year since deceased mother. I listened and then wished her a Happy Women's Day. Quite a juxtaposition - sniff, sniff, "My mother died three years ago." "Oh, have a great holiday!"

Pretending to be in a different time-zone, I began making some soup after going to a movie Sunday evening. I believe that pot of crud was the epitome of my bad cooking skills. For some inexplicable reason I thought that beets should behave like potatoes. They are roughly the same difficulty to chop, so why not save myself the hassle of shredding them and, corollarily (yeah, I know it ain't a word), turning my kitchen walls red in the process? Beets taste really bad in chunks especially when they are undercooked. Though as the week has progressed they have become less cardboardy. Still, I am looking forward to finishing that pot of barf. With the non-tasty taste still fresh in my mouth I spoke with the girlfriend for some time about her job prospects after graduation.

Change is supposedly good, right? Why must it be so blasted inconvenient? On Sunday about a two-block stretch of two main roads in the center of the city were changed from both being two-way to one-way. As a result, the trolley-bus can no longer make its usual route as the cables are not in the right place. Taken alone, this would not be so bad. However, one of the reasons the road switch occurred was to remove the tramway tracks from the main square and route them around the backside. This means that not only does my trolley-bus not work, neither does my tram. In my opinion this is bad news - especially because I love riding the tramway. Hopefully it will be remedied before the big celebrations this summer. After class finished on Monday evening I waited for the trolley for 45 minutes, hoping that it would come. It never did. Now, there is a bus that I can take, but the trolley deposits me about a ten minute walk closer to home. After freezing forty-five minutes of my life off, I hoofed it back to my flat. Surprisingly it only took about an hour. I don't suppose I'll do that all the time, but when I'm looking to pinch a few pennies (about 35 of them, to be precise), I may get some exercise and listen to the Russian radio. I was flipping through the channels and heard an American voice. It was some sort of program in translation. I never did figure out exactly why it was airing, but learning about information filtration in the field of science was mildly entertaining - for ten minutes or so.