Go Blue!

Saturday turned out to be a lovely day. I spent the whole day and night enjoying the city day festivities and managed to come out unscathed. (Unless you count the sunburn and dehydration)










I spent Sunday wondering around the ancient city of RostovVeliky with Natasha, A native Rostovian. I can’t even attempt to describe the feelings that overcame me so I’ll just show you some of the pictures.










This evening (Monday) my Russian Guides Olga and Anna (whom have made it their job to maximize and russify my last 10 days in Russia) decided that I needed to eat at a Traktor (A Traditional Russian Tourist Trap) We went to the Traktor, I asked them to order something good and Russian and as usual I got some sort of fried meat with potatoes. Far more interesting than the food was the clientele. A few minutes after we sat down, 3 men and a woman entered the restaurant and sat behind us. After a while I noticed they were speaking English, not Brittish English but American English. (I have a better chance communicating in Russian with a Britt) My guides wanted to hear them speak and forced me to ask them were they were from, so I did. Turns out they’re from Detroit and they work for some automobile paint manufacturer who is setting up shop in the region. I told them I was from Bloomington, in unison they replied; “Go Blue.” Small world.After the Traktor while walking along the Volga receiving my Phonetics lesson, we stopped at one of the many cafes to buy some beer (trust me it helps with the evil ля ле еc... Standing in front of us was a drunk young Russian male (nothing strange there), maybe it was my accent or maybe he heard some English but he turned to us and said, “Where are you from? America? You don’t look like a foreigner but you are. Aren’t you?” Great, here we go again. “I don’t understand I said.” He replied with extremely fast and slurred speech, the only thing I could pick out was “Russia”. He offered me his hand. I shook it and then he left. My guide’s started laughing, I asked for a translation; “He says he looked at you and that you didn’t look at him like a Russian does or like a foreigner does. He says when Russian men look at other Russian men they size each other up. When he sees foreigners they look nervous and uncomfortable. He said that you didn’t size him up but you didn’t look scared, you looked relaxed. He says I welcome you to my country, to Russia. But now I need to sit down.”

That’s when it hit me. That’s when I realized just what this time has done to me. I would venture to say that no one has ever considered me a relaxed or confident person. In fact I would say I’m known for my fragile nerves and lack of confidence, they’re my most overwhelming personality traits. Last August, when I started experiencing daily severe back pain because of the Chiari, my mind took a bad turn. The looming surgery overtook my psyche. After the surgery I didn’t feel much better, I still had daily pain and just seemed to exist in a perpetual rut that I couldn’t climb out of. After about a week in Russia things began to change, I began to feel differently. Sure, I’m still in pain everyday physically but something is different. Until now I couldn’t explain it, but I think the drunk Russian stranger just did.