Sunday, May 13th.
Today, I once again awoke to the wonderful smells of Irina’s kitchen. Apparently it is tradition in the Ovcharov household to eat блени (a sort of russian pancake) every Sunday morning. As is nealy everything Irina cooks, they were delicous but no doubt fattening. I decided I needed to walk of the bleni. I headed for the central market. I learned from yesterdays mistakes, I made it there with out using my map or asking for directions, I'm starting to get the feel of this city.
After looking around the market, I headed back home hoping to avoid another heavy meal. I haven't been home for 10 minutes when Irina called me in to the kitchen to eat. The whole time I was at the market Irina was at home preparing пельмени/pelmeni, essentially they're meat filled dumplings usually served in broth. They were absolutely delicous, but for some reason my bowl was full to the brim, while Irina only had 4 on her plate. I asked her, «why I'm eating so many more than you». She replied, I'm an old women, you're a young man, EAT. So what is one to do, but force every dumpling down their throat with a smile after every bite.
After lunch, I translated another article for school and studied for a few hours. After I’d had enough I decided to walk down to the Volga, grab a beer and pick up some flowers for my host mother (after all it is Mother’s day in the states). I got a beer at a kiosk as well as a lesson on the proper stress (the e is accented, how was I supposed to know). As I was making my way down to the Volga I see a policemen leaning against a tree. Suddenly he pointed at me and 3 or 4 others and said “идти сюда» (Come here), I immediately began thinking about all the things I wish I could have done before I died. Great what have I done, is it the beer? I've seen 12 year olds buying beer and drinking it on the street, it can't be that. Is it me, do I have American written on my forehead? People ask me for directions every day, it can't be that can it? Is he trying to prevent me from buying flowers? «Ваш Пасспорт»/You're passport. Oh, of course Police=Passport how could I forget? Apparently levieng fines (bribes) for not carrying a passport is a policemen's major source of i
ncome, he was using the crime of jay walking (give me a break) to demand our documents. I pulled out my passport showed it to him, he didn't even open it, he just said «идти» go. What? I've got my visa and my visa registration, don't you want to inspect that? What about my entry form? Nope, I was of no use to him. Unfotunately the 3 Russians he stopped weren't so lucky. None of them had their passports with them. 30 minutes later, after finishing my beer and buying my flowers they were all still there arguing.
Today, I once again awoke to the wonderful smells of Irina’s kitchen. Apparently it is tradition in the Ovcharov household to eat блени (a sort of russian pancake) every Sunday morning. As is nealy everything Irina cooks, they were delicous but no doubt fattening. I decided I needed to walk of the bleni. I headed for the central market. I learned from yesterdays mistakes, I made it there with out using my map or asking for directions, I'm starting to get the feel of this city.
After looking around the market, I headed back home hoping to avoid another heavy meal. I haven't been home for 10 minutes when Irina called me in to the kitchen to eat. The whole time I was at the market Irina was at home preparing пельмени/pelmeni, essentially they're meat filled dumplings usually served in broth. They were absolutely delicous, but for some reason my bowl was full to the brim, while Irina only had 4 on her plate. I asked her, «why I'm eating so many more than you». She replied, I'm an old women, you're a young man, EAT. So what is one to do, but force every dumpling down their throat with a smile after every bite.
After lunch, I translated another article for school and studied for a few hours. After I’d had enough I decided to walk down to the Volga, grab a beer and pick up some flowers for my host mother (after all it is Mother’s day in the states). I got a beer at a kiosk as well as a lesson on the proper stress (the e is accented, how was I supposed to know). As I was making my way down to the Volga I see a policemen leaning against a tree. Suddenly he pointed at me and 3 or 4 others and said “идти сюда» (Come here), I immediately began thinking about all the things I wish I could have done before I died. Great what have I done, is it the beer? I've seen 12 year olds buying beer and drinking it on the street, it can't be that. Is it me, do I have American written on my forehead? People ask me for directions every day, it can't be that can it? Is he trying to prevent me from buying flowers? «Ваш Пасспорт»/You're passport. Oh, of course Police=Passport how could I forget? Apparently levieng fines (bribes) for not carrying a passport is a policemen's major source of i
ncome, he was using the crime of jay walking (give me a break) to demand our documents. I pulled out my passport showed it to him, he didn't even open it, he just said «идти» go. What? I've got my visa and my visa registration, don't you want to inspect that? What about my entry form? Nope, I was of no use to him. Unfotunately the 3 Russians he stopped weren't so lucky. None of them had their passports with them. 30 minutes later, after finishing my beer and buying my flowers they were all still there arguing. 
2 comments:
Bet you deal with the police was nerve-wracking. Would certainly scare me. Sounds like you're getting around pretty well there.
We're off to a teacher dinner.
Love,
Mom
Sounds like all is well with the commies, glad to hear it. I'll be leaving for NYC in a few days and am progressively getting more nervous. My typically laid back, go with the flow nature has been severely shaken. By the first of the month I will be settled down with my girl in a home I intend to stay in longer than I've stayed anywhere in awhile. It all feels very strange. All of my love.
Jake
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