samizdat

A whole week has passed and I've failed to finish this blog entry- mostly because trying to organize this many pictures is a royal pain. But here it is!:

Thursday night Sasha and I hopped on the overnight train to Moscow planning to spend Friday in Moscow and head to Rizan, where her babushka lives, Friday night.
I have a strange relationship with Moscow, as half the time I see the city I'm exhausted from not sleeping well enough on the train ride there. This time Moscow was surprisingly warm compared to peter, 7 degrees (that's C not F) in the face of our fresh snow! Sasha's friend, Lera, met up with us, and the three of us spent the day walking around Moscow- and we were sure to check out the newest American chain to make it to Russia: Starbucks. That's right, Moscow now has a Starbucks, and it's completely bizzare to walk in because it looks exactly like any american- except that everything is twice as expensive! A medium drip coffee is around 4 bucks, anything fancy is 8 dollars or more.

Sasha and Lera in a park in Moscow

Below: Sasha and Lera pointing to the bright gleeming future, Sasha modeling her knowledgeable chopstick skills at the sushi restaurant

Next- Sasha and I missed the express train to Rizan, and ended up having to take the bus. This was the longest busride of my life. The first two hours were fine- we were so exhausted from walking around all day in a groggy mess that we passed out as soon after settling into our seats.
I woke up from my nap to find our bus stopped and stuck in traffic, not far from where we had started. I became claustraphobic- the bus wasn't moving and the highly loathed Humour FM radio station was blaring. It was a mix of tacky jokes, obnoxious advertisements, cheesy russian synthesizer pop songs interrupted every now and then by the station's tagline: "Humour FM, laughter in the face of the crisis- sending the crisis back to America!" Great.

Sitting in the seat, I knew that after a couple more painful hours I would be off that bus- I knew the ride, no matter how painful, couldn't last forever; but sitting in my seat gritting my teeth through the sounds of horns blaring and laughtracks, there was no end in sight.

When we did finally make it to Rizan, the whole bus ride had been worth it. Sasha's grandmother let us in and welcomed us with big hugs and a table full of food! You will never know what overeating is until you've spent a weekend as a guest to a Russian babushka!