Парк Победы

Important features of Park Pobedy:

-Tanks that you're allowed to climb all over

-More rollerbladers than you've seen since 1996

-A really lovely, incredibly deep metro station (clink the link for REALLY COOL facts about it, as well as pictures)

-A group of four violinists, one violist, and one cellist playing perfect classical music in the area of the station below the street, before you leave or as you enter

Oh, I'm in Europe

I can't decide which is stranger: the ubiquitous smoking indoors, or the ubiquitous drinking outdoors.

Last night, our program director, Vera, led us to a club owned by a friend of her daughter's. It's called Masterskaya (Мастерская, or The Studio) and is located in the center of town. The city at night is so beautiful, and the area we walked through to get to the club looked so very European. Inside the club: dim lighting, pale walls, a cloud of smoke hovering above the tables, just crowded enough to be cozy. It was only 300 rubles, about 10 dollars, to get in. Not long after we arrived, the band began playing. A cellist, violinist, pianist, and accordion player gave us two hours of tango music that simultaneously broke and soothed my heart. All four were outstanding musicians. I've never seen an accordion played that way, and the cellist was superb--such a stereotypical artist, all floppy hair, passion, and effortlessness. I sipped my drink and smiled at my friends and felt beautiful in my nicest dress. I needed it. It couldn't have been more perfect.

I'm paying for my lazy weekend now, but somehow the homework just doesn't seem like such a big deal.

Night life

Sort of.

Last night, handful of my friends and I were planning on going to Kruzhka, a bar, and then over to Propaganda, a club in Kitai-Gorod. I'd been to Kruzhka on Tuesday and liked it--60-ruble ($2) house beer (which I wouldn't drink more than one of, anyway, so it's quite cheap for me) and it's such a dive. In a very charming, pleasant way. Not much different than the Skull in Athens--only beer, for instance--but about 5 times larger. Anya and Grisha said they'd never go there. Cheap, they said--which is, of course, why we go there. Anya thought it was the sort of place that would have rowdy drunk men who want to fight and hit on young women. But we weren't bothered at all while we were there, and mostly the patrons were young, many of them women. The tables were lit by long candles stuck in beer bottles, and the light actually made the place look pretty classy. Plus they have bathrooms with toilet paper that you don't have to pay for, a rarity here.

I started getting stomach pains on my way to Kruzhka that made it difficult to stand up. But I powered through and made it to the bar. On the ride/walk to Propaganda, it just got worse and worse, and we weren't far when I realized there was no way I'd be able to dance. So Rachel and I took the metro back to our station. I called Anya and stumbled home. When I got there, she was waiting with a box of medicine labeled "Живот" (stomach) and gave me something that tasted like Mylanta. "I hope it wasn't our food!" she worried over and over, suggesting maybe the mushrooms were the culprit. But I'd been eating that dish for the past few days. I didn't say so, but I think the problem was that for dinner, Grisha poured a bunch of leftover vegetables into a skillet and warmed them up with A LOT of cheese. It was so good that I ate the whole pan that he made, and I think that's what did me in--I have a suspicion I'm developing a mild lactose intolerance. But I really hope I'm wrong.

But the night ended up being AWESOME. We talked about movies and music, and sat around for hours sharing music with one another. Anya gave me a bunch of CDs to listen to (including 5'NIZZA, woo!), and when the conversation died down she started watching Friends in Russian on her computer! She said she wants to buy it in English. We are amusingly alike--they don't have a TV, but they watch House on the computer, and now I find out she likes Friends. Grisha and I have very similar taste in movies. We, improbably, share a love for the Jim Jarmusch film Dead Man. He's more into Tim Burton than I am, but he also likes the Coen brothers. I was shocked to find out that Anya hasn't seen any Coen brothers movies, though she certainly knows who they are. I'm going to try to convince her to watch O Brother, Where Art Thou with me today in Russian. She found it on the Russian Facebook, В Контакте (I think). They can, apparently, stream almost any movie very easily. Their licensing laws for movies and music are much different than ours--they can get almost anything free or at least cheaply.

I feel better this morning and I'm excited for today, even if I just end up watching movies with Anya at home.

I look like a slob

While waiting for a friend at my metro station today, I started keeping track of the footwear of the women walking by. At least 90% of the women around my age were wearing heels--and I mean HIGH heels, at least three inches but more often four or more. I'd also guess this was true of around 3/4 of the women under the age of 50.

I feel really, really frumpy here.

My friends and I are planning on going clubbing tomorrow, and I have no idea what I'm going to wear. No time to shop--I forced myself to come home right after class today to get in some real studying.

So there's a song I've assigned to be the official song of my trip to Russia (to be honest, I made that decision before I left). I don't usually go in for inspirational songs, but this one's different for some reason. Click here for the lyrics, but you should really find it and listen to it, because it sounds less corny if you get music + vocals + lyrics together. Here's a bit of it anyway:

"People are just people

They shouldn't make you nervous

The world is everlasting, it's coming and it's going

If you don't toss your plastic

The streets won't be so plastic

And if you kiss somebody, then both of you'll get practice

The world is everlasting

The dirtballs in your pocket

The dirtballs in your pocket and take off both your shoes

Because people are just people

People are just people

People are just people like you"

-Regina Spektor, "Ghost of Corporate Future"

Anyway, I like it.