The Evil Chairman of The House Committee

In soviet times every apartment building had a house committee. Each committee had a chairman whose job was to make sure each and every one of his comrades had a place to live and that his apartment building’s ability to help all of the Soviet Union’s citizens to the best of it’s ability was maximized. Consequently, this situation created a fear and stigma attached to the position. Whether it’s Bulgakov’s infamous apartment number 50 or the man lurking in the dark locked rooms in several of Kharm’s Incidents, Soviet literature is full of unsavory heads of house committees.

Ever since I arrived in Yaroslavl, I’ve constantly asked myself, “who is the chairman of the Ovcharov’s house committee. Is it that old woman who seems to be scolding me every time I walk down the stairs? Is it that chain-smoking guy who stares at me from the shadows beyond the garbage bin every time I come and go? What about the middle-aged guy who is perpetually working on his car in the courtyard? (A Volga, model Спутник/Sputnik by the way, thank Valera for that one) As it turns out it is none other than our beloved Irina Mikhailovna, my host mother.

This morning I told Irina that I was planning on going to Rostov Veliky ( A small picturesque 2,000 year town about an hour south of here) on Saturday. I asked her advice on train V bus, times etc… After I got back from class Irina said, (in Russian) “Adam, sit down we need to talk.” Oh no, what have I done? I didn’t mean to accidentally turn the hot water on for 5 seconds two days ago. (There is not hot water in Yaroslavl Mon/Tue/Wed) I swear I locked the door. Do I snore? Irina procceded to tell me that not only is she in charge of the apartment building (they’ve strayed away from Soviet terminology), but that she told one of her employees about my plan and she suggested that I go with her and her boyfriend Pavel to a different town this weekend, a town called Kostroma.

Apparently Irina’s employee Natasha is a graduate student in Economics and has studied English throughout her time in University. She wants to practice her English and get me away from the clutches of the octogenarians. So Saturday Irina, Pavel and I are headed to Kostroma, too do what, I have no idea but it should be interesting.

Elsewhere:

-This evening, I found a quiet spot to sit on the banks of the Volga. I watched three men pull lots of small fish from its waters just like people have done for thousands of years.

-Russian grammar is extremely difficult.