Кострома/Kostroma

Well the day turned out better than I imagined. I woke up feeling nauseaus and generally ill (I blame the Russian diet). The last thing I wanted to do was get in a compact Russian car with two of my host mother's employees and travel 80 kilometers on the wonderful Russian roads to an unfamiliar city. In hindsight, I wouldn't have missed it for the world.

A little bit about Kostroma. Kostroma is an ancient town that lies on the confluence of the Volga and Kostroma rivers about 80 km's north east east of Yaroslavl. (Kostroma river, get it?) The town was originally founded in 1152 A.D. by Yury Dolgoruky, the same guy who founded Moscow (Thanks Lonely Planet). Kostroma is known for for it's textiles and the 14th century Monastery of St. Ipaty, which is considered the birthplace of the Romanov dynasty. At one point, Kostroma was the third largest city in Russia. And just in case you haven't had enough, Kostroma is home to the Russian folk hero Ivan Susanin. Legend has it that during a period of Polish invasion during the winter of 1612, Ivan led a deatchment of polish troops into an unpassable swamp. After they found out, they of course killed him but subsequently died themselves, i.e. unpassible. He's the guy in the picture of the statue, not Lenin.

At 10 in the morning I was picked up by the accountants of the evil head of the house committee, Natasha and Svetlana. About half way there, I started to feel much better, this day may not be a disaster after all. We arrived in Kostroma about 11:30, we went to St. Ipaty, took lots of photos, the girls got yelled at by the бабушки/babushkas for not wearing head scarves, a great time was had by all but probably most of all by the babushkas.

A bit about the babushka's, being a grandmother or the age of, in Russia technically qualifies someone for the title of babushka. But to be a Babushka is something entirely different, it's not exactly something you can explain. You know one when you see one. Как тебе не стыдно? How can you not be ashamed? Yes, you're right. I don't know what I did, but it was most certainly horrible. I'm sorry, now please take your platic bags and cane out of my face.

After the monestary we visited the museum of wooden architecture (see the pictures below). Then we went into the city spent several hours walking around the market, along the volga (yes, once again I can not escape the Volga) I also drank coffee, real coffe, not instant, it was great. After that we met up with Natasha's boyfriend Pavel for sushi. Yes, sushi in Russia. I don't think he cared for me too much, maybe it's him, maybe it's me, maybe it's Bush, who knows. Later we went to a really strange museum of fire history. It consisted mostly of items burned in house fires, televisions, phones, couches, you get the idea. One wing consisted entirely of drawings school children hade made throughout the years about house fires. Don't play with matches, my dad dies in a house fire etc.. Interesting.

We came back to Yaroslavl and now I'm writing. I don't have much to say so here are some photographs. Monday, I am going to get some pictures of me that the girls took in Kostroma. I'll post them so you don't forget how beautiful I am, as if it is possible.