Friday, February 14, 2014
Friday, 2/14, Happy Valentines Day!
Just a brief post on climate and the resulting problems. Up until 3 days ago, it snowed almost daily here. Powdery, constant, and about 5-10 degrees F. Tuesday it began to warm up, mid 20s. This whole time it has been fairly easy to adjust to walking at a quick pace, dodging vehicles fairly easily. as I've said before, I did what the stray dogs do and cross with an old lady---until I began to adjust to the tempo of the whole thing. My Russian Professor at NVCC, Jacki Holland, refers to this as "playing the matador" which is a fairly apt characterization. You sort of have to determine risk and reward, ascertain the intent of drivers, and then go---sort of hoping they'll stop and not slide over you. This is of course when you don't have a light---which is easier, but you still really have to keep your wits about you(left turning vehicles, red light runners, drivers of German luxury vehicles). The snow really helped with traction when walking, building up a nice navigable base. There is a layer of ice everywhere, really hazardous to walk on, and the snow alleviates that.
wednesday it was 35 degrees F. I do realize I have sent the russian weather to the DC area and for that I am sorry. So when things melt it gets even more treacherous. 35 F by the way is balmy. You walk around sweating, inside and out. That helps cool you off, but you do a lot of laundry. When the temp is in the 30s it is practically impossible to walk. There is a wet layer of ice on every inch of sidewalk---and they are slanted invariably one way or another. On top of that the ice is uneven as well and covered with a layer of slushy water. When the temp gets to freezing, it is a skating rink. Everything is ice, thin and VERY treacherous.
I've by the way slipped a lot but only fallen down once---Wednesday---and that was because I tripped on a protruding piece of ice. I fell on my hands and knees, was pretty well padded, banged my right arm a bit, then right back up. Thirty or so Russians at the bus stop. All saw it. Their expressions did not change. The thousand mile stare. I might have been invisible. Incidentally, I've seen little slips very infrequently, BUT HAVE NOT SEE A SINGLE RUSSIAN FALL DOWN! The elderly are everywhere, plugging along. Women wear heels the length of a yardstick. Nobody falls.
On top of this, rooftop precipitation is now giving in to gravity. Huge chunks of 6-8 inch thick ice and snow are falling 3-9 floors onto the sidewalk. They tape off sections of the sidewalk sometimes and inside you see these huge chunks of ice. I am trying to take routes now where the sidewalk goes by 1-2 story buildings. You try to keep an eye on things above you, but that forces you to not pay attention to the ice underneath your feet. I'm usually a pretty "walk around and check stuff out" kinda fella, but these days I hurry to the office in the morning, hurry home in the evening, hope the lock is working, and stay in. Tomorrow is swimming again with the union group and afterwards the US v Russia Hockey game atDr. Bobarykina's home, Her daughter Ksyusha will be performing a program on the piano as a prelude to this epic battle.
Happy Valentine's day to my beautiful wife, Janet. I miss her so much.
wednesday it was 35 degrees F. I do realize I have sent the russian weather to the DC area and for that I am sorry. So when things melt it gets even more treacherous. 35 F by the way is balmy. You walk around sweating, inside and out. That helps cool you off, but you do a lot of laundry. When the temp is in the 30s it is practically impossible to walk. There is a wet layer of ice on every inch of sidewalk---and they are slanted invariably one way or another. On top of that the ice is uneven as well and covered with a layer of slushy water. When the temp gets to freezing, it is a skating rink. Everything is ice, thin and VERY treacherous.
I've by the way slipped a lot but only fallen down once---Wednesday---and that was because I tripped on a protruding piece of ice. I fell on my hands and knees, was pretty well padded, banged my right arm a bit, then right back up. Thirty or so Russians at the bus stop. All saw it. Their expressions did not change. The thousand mile stare. I might have been invisible. Incidentally, I've seen little slips very infrequently, BUT HAVE NOT SEE A SINGLE RUSSIAN FALL DOWN! The elderly are everywhere, plugging along. Women wear heels the length of a yardstick. Nobody falls.
On top of this, rooftop precipitation is now giving in to gravity. Huge chunks of 6-8 inch thick ice and snow are falling 3-9 floors onto the sidewalk. They tape off sections of the sidewalk sometimes and inside you see these huge chunks of ice. I am trying to take routes now where the sidewalk goes by 1-2 story buildings. You try to keep an eye on things above you, but that forces you to not pay attention to the ice underneath your feet. I'm usually a pretty "walk around and check stuff out" kinda fella, but these days I hurry to the office in the morning, hurry home in the evening, hope the lock is working, and stay in. Tomorrow is swimming again with the union group and afterwards the US v Russia Hockey game atDr. Bobarykina's home, Her daughter Ksyusha will be performing a program on the piano as a prelude to this epic battle.
Happy Valentine's day to my beautiful wife, Janet. I miss her so much.
Tuesday, February 11, 2014
PBS: Battle for Stalingrad(now Volgograd)
http://www.pbs.org/behindcloseddoors/episode-2/ep2_battle_stalingrad.html
A pretty good account of the horrors of war in Russia a few hundred miles south of Saratov in what is now Volgograd.
Photos from Victory Park
This is a somber yet beautiful memorial to Russian WWII losses against German invaders.
My father was a navigator on a B17 bomber on the other side of the world in the Pacific. The Russian sacrifice in this conflict is almost unimaginable.
I felt a connection.
Monday, February 10, 2014
Swimming Saturday!
A week and a half ago, Dr. Bobarykina(Natalia) asked me if I had any interest in swimming while in Saratov. I replied, certainly---then went home and realized I had not packed a swimsuit. As this journey began, I had to really try to pare down clothing choices in the interest of having warm clothes and somehow swimming trunks got cut. I had horrifying visions of having to wear a stereotypical Euro swimsuit and put off shopping for one.
At the Stolypin Volga Region of Administration, there is a group of faculty who, lead by a union rep, Boris, reserve an aquatic center for an hour on Saturday. You hear that Virginia? Your little "right to work" state and it's posturing basically prevents teachers from swimming together---saving the Commonwealth from the terrifying specter of socialist organizing.(while swimming of course)
Anyway, I miss the first week of swimming because I don't have a suit. So I set my sights on the second week. I am whisked off to the mall mid-week by the office and buy a suit in the Russian version of Modell's--along with a pair of shower shoes.
Saturday arrives and I am supposed to meet Boris at the pool at 12:30 pm. I walk about 1.5 miles to the pool, have a difficult time finding it, but with a little help, manage to figure out the location.
I am going to describe to you now the slightly militaristic set of steps one goes through to swim in Russia. Our Institute's Union swims from 12:45-1:45 every Saturday.
You arrive and place your coat in the cloakroom. You should also remove your now very muddy shoes, place them in a plastic bag, and place them under your coat. Your coat is in a specific place with a number. You take the little tag with the number, go through a turnstile, and you come to a window. There is woman there. You give her your special pool ID(your socialist badge), with your picture, and also your cloakroom number tag. She takes it and gives you a key with another number. This is your locker. Boris takes me upstairs. (He speaks no English and I speak virtually no conversational Russian)Points out two doors. I can read some Russian but I'm not paying attention and I try to go in the second door----there is a bit of consternation and raised voices----I've tried to go into the women's locker room. I follow him into the men's locker room. In Russia before you go into the pool, you must take a REAL shower beforehand. This is explained to me by people in the office and also by Boris in Russian. So I undress, follow the fellas into the shower, take a shower, go back into the locker room and wait for further instructions---still holding my locker key.
Nobody familiar comes back into the locker room. I am confused. Where is Boris? I put my suit on, go back into the shower area---lots of stares, amble through there to a door around a corner, go around another corner---and I'm into the pool area. Boris is there to explain to me in undecipherable Russian that I should wrap my locker key in my towel, put it in a cubbyhole, then I can swim. It is a nice pool--maybe 9 lanes--with about 15 faculty swimming laps in a leisurely fashion. I get in and swim laps for about 50 minutes---a good workout for me. Boris asks me if I am OK and nobody speaks to me again. I get out about 10 minutes early, people act as if I am wasting some of my money(it costs about $15 a month). I shower again, dress, reverse my steps, get my ID and cloakroom number back in return for my locker key. I retrieve my coat and shoes, and in a few minutes am back out into the 10 degree weather, also snowing, for the hike back to my apartment. This walking is not unpleasant---it is good exercise---and I am somehow exhilarated that I have actually been able to do this. Things are not easy to figure out here and I appreciate the kind and generous Russian colleagues who help me.
I get invited to go skiing the next morning. Another adventure. Narrative to follow.
At the Stolypin Volga Region of Administration, there is a group of faculty who, lead by a union rep, Boris, reserve an aquatic center for an hour on Saturday. You hear that Virginia? Your little "right to work" state and it's posturing basically prevents teachers from swimming together---saving the Commonwealth from the terrifying specter of socialist organizing.(while swimming of course)
Anyway, I miss the first week of swimming because I don't have a suit. So I set my sights on the second week. I am whisked off to the mall mid-week by the office and buy a suit in the Russian version of Modell's--along with a pair of shower shoes.
Saturday arrives and I am supposed to meet Boris at the pool at 12:30 pm. I walk about 1.5 miles to the pool, have a difficult time finding it, but with a little help, manage to figure out the location.
I am going to describe to you now the slightly militaristic set of steps one goes through to swim in Russia. Our Institute's Union swims from 12:45-1:45 every Saturday.
You arrive and place your coat in the cloakroom. You should also remove your now very muddy shoes, place them in a plastic bag, and place them under your coat. Your coat is in a specific place with a number. You take the little tag with the number, go through a turnstile, and you come to a window. There is woman there. You give her your special pool ID(your socialist badge), with your picture, and also your cloakroom number tag. She takes it and gives you a key with another number. This is your locker. Boris takes me upstairs. (He speaks no English and I speak virtually no conversational Russian)Points out two doors. I can read some Russian but I'm not paying attention and I try to go in the second door----there is a bit of consternation and raised voices----I've tried to go into the women's locker room. I follow him into the men's locker room. In Russia before you go into the pool, you must take a REAL shower beforehand. This is explained to me by people in the office and also by Boris in Russian. So I undress, follow the fellas into the shower, take a shower, go back into the locker room and wait for further instructions---still holding my locker key.
Nobody familiar comes back into the locker room. I am confused. Where is Boris? I put my suit on, go back into the shower area---lots of stares, amble through there to a door around a corner, go around another corner---and I'm into the pool area. Boris is there to explain to me in undecipherable Russian that I should wrap my locker key in my towel, put it in a cubbyhole, then I can swim. It is a nice pool--maybe 9 lanes--with about 15 faculty swimming laps in a leisurely fashion. I get in and swim laps for about 50 minutes---a good workout for me. Boris asks me if I am OK and nobody speaks to me again. I get out about 10 minutes early, people act as if I am wasting some of my money(it costs about $15 a month). I shower again, dress, reverse my steps, get my ID and cloakroom number back in return for my locker key. I retrieve my coat and shoes, and in a few minutes am back out into the 10 degree weather, also snowing, for the hike back to my apartment. This walking is not unpleasant---it is good exercise---and I am somehow exhilarated that I have actually been able to do this. Things are not easy to figure out here and I appreciate the kind and generous Russian colleagues who help me.
I get invited to go skiing the next morning. Another adventure. Narrative to follow.
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