penultimate

Well, I'm really down to it.  Tickets have been bought, bags have been packed, the apartment has been cleaned, (some) goodbyes have been said, gifts have been given.  And most importantly, my final rent has been paid--and gas came out to only 110 rubles, when Darina had estimated 300, so that's a positive.  I've already entered my pre-travel anxiety mode, mostly just centered on making the train station--metro--train station transfer with my luggage in order to get to the airport on time in Moscow.  While I feel much more confident in my ability to deal with problems in Russia than I was ten months ago on arrival, I'd just as soon avoid any mishaps all together.  I'd like to think after the gauntlet I went through to get to Russia, the universe owes me a peaceful trip home (right).

The good news is I've squared all my debts and seen nearly all of the people I've become close to a last time before my departure.  I also managed to give away a lot of stuff I didn't want to take back with me, meaning my bags are a heck of a lot lighter going back just like I planned.  As there's no easy mechanism for giving clothes away a la the Salvation Army, I put all the things I didn't want in bags and set them by the dumpsters, knowing that the scrounging community wouldn't let me down.  They were already gone when I checked three hours later, so at least I know they'll have done someone some good.  I've got all of my stuff packed and the apartment totally cleaned, but the fact that it's a furnished place with all the fixings means I keep looking around about every 25 minutes, sure that I've forgotten something.  It's a bit weird, as usually when you move out of a place it's just empty so it "feels" like you're moving.

That might be the weirdest thing about this week.  Even though tonight is my last night in Petrozavodsk, for some reason it doesn't feel like I'm leaving, despite all the conclusive-type things I've already done.  I think part of it may have to do with the fact that I've made a few real, genuine friends here that I know I'm going to stay in touch with a almost certainly see again in the future.  That, together with the fact that I'm still young and will have plenty of chances to visit Russia again, have helped to prevent an overwhelming feeling of finality from setting in.  Also, I think that as much as I'll miss the people and places that have helped make this my home for nearly a year, I'm ready to conclude this short (but amazing) chapter of my life and tackle the next big challenge (just remember I've written that in August when I'm freaking out about starting law school).  I might post tomorrow, but it's more likely I won't.  My plan is to post a series of final thoughts about my experience after I get home, though with diving right into helping run YMCA Nationals (gymnastics) it will be closer to the end of June.  So if anyone's still reading around then, stop on by!

Rail Trippin': Pskov/Kostomuksha

It's been a busy eight days.  Last Monday, a friend and I made a spur of the moment decision to visit Pskov, a historic town 15 miles from the Estonian border and one of Russia's oldest cities (the commonly accepted date for its founding is 903).  It was the kind of quintessential Russian travel experience: buy train tickets the day before, buy bus tickets an hour before it leaves, rent a room at the first hotel you see, and buy a map in the gift shop to figure out what to see.  It was also a lot of fun.  The bus from Petersburg was one of the nicest I've been on, and took about 30-45 minutes less than advertised.  I quickly took a liking to Pskov; it reminded me of Petrozavodsk in many ways, but with the added component of having the feel of a very old city.  At one time the kremlin in the middle of the city was surrounded by as many as five walls, some of which still wind their way through the city.  It's not uncommon to walk out of a cafe or movie theater and see a wall running beside you built in the 13th century.

The only downsides: heat and mosquitoes.  The hotel room was so hot we had to open the windows all the way, meaning it was open season for bugs.  I ended up sleeping with my bottle of OFF! next to my bed, so I could periodically spray myself with it throughout the night as I was inevitably awoken by the tiny stings of insect invasion.  But we found ways to combat the heat, mostly through large amounts of ice cream, water, and seeing a movie during the hottest part of the day.  The other main attraction in Pskov besides its kremlin (which I don't have pictures of on my camera and haven't gotten copies of yet, unfortunately) is its great number of churches.  The various quarters of the city are littered with them, to the point that it's a rarity to walk ten minutes without seeing one.  

The one pictured above is the Christ's Transfiguration Cathedral, part of the famous Mirozhsky Monastery.  The church is the only original building that remains of the monastery (the rest has been rebuilt at various points in history), dating to the mid-12th century.  It's well-known for its frescoes, and is listed as one of UNESCO's World Heritage Sites.  While they are currently in the process of restoring the original frescoes, which feature scenes from the life of Jesus, I was able to capture some they'd already restored:

Having arrived back in Petrozavodsk on Friday, I had one night at home before getting back on a train headed for Kostomuksha, a much newer town (1977) in the northwest of Karelia right on the border with Finland.  I went with Karjala in order perform in the city's Russia Day celebrations.  Everyone in the town made a really big deal over the fact that doesn't look like other Russian cities because half of it was built by Finnish builders.  I didn't really see the difference, but oh well.  Because it's so close to the border, travel to Kostomuksha is restricted, a legacy of the old Soviet border control system that was originally curtailed in the '90s but later expanded by the FSB (new name for the KGB) under Putin.  Basically, when you enter the Border Security Zone, the train is boarded and everyone has to have their passports checked.

As an American, as you might expect, I attracted considerable interest from a very serious man wearing a military uniform that noticeably featured no markings.  I got to sit with him for a good ten or so minutes as he wrote down all of the information from my passport, visa, migration card, registration, and tickets.  Luckily I was in the same cabin-area as Andre, the group leader, so he was able to help with the questions about where exactly we would be in town and what exactly we would be doing.  But ultimately there was no trouble, though you wouldn't have guessed it from the expression on the man's face.

What followed was a busy day full of programming.  We danced in the poorly-organized event near the town's church, and then were invited in for tea and pastries by the town priest.  He was by fair the most gregarious and charismatic holy man I've met in Russia, regaling us with jokes and anecdotes for a good three quarters of an hour before our town coordinator/guide finally insisted that we were way behind schedule.  After that we had a cultural presentation about the town's brief history, then an hour and a half swim at the aquatic center in town, then back on the train home.  

Honestly, the train rides were the best part of the whole trip.  There's nothing quite like the experience of riding third-class with a group of young and rambunctious Russians.  Vodka was drunk, mushrooms were eaten, songs were sung, and we were shushed a good 2-3 times.  It was a great time and a good way to enjoy my last weekend Karelia.  I'm in full departure mode now, with half of my things already packed and all of my plans this week centered on seeing as many people one last time before I leave on Saturday.  I think all the traveling I've done in the last three weeks has helped me start to get my mind around the fact that I'm going "home home" and after so long here.  As much as I'll miss the city and all the people I've met here, I think I'm ready to see Ole' Lady Liberty again.  And by Lady Liberty I mean the inside of JFK airport.

(mos)cow t(r)ipping

I took a trip to Moscow last week to meet up with some fellow Fulbrighters in the area.  We're all finished with classes now so we took some time to see some of the sights around Moscow.  There's a group of historic cities around Moscow known as the Golden Ring that I had wanted to see for a while, so it was a good opportunity.  Unfortunately I only got to see one of the cities, but I was only in town for three days so it would have been pretty challenging to try and fit in any more.  The town we went to, Sergiyev Posad, is famous mostly for its Trinity Monastery, the most important Russian monastery and the "spiritual centre of the Russian Orthodox Church."  After the requisite 30 minutes of asking random people for directions, we found the surprisingly nice coach that drove us the hour or so route to the town.  There's not much to the town other than the monastery, but it alone is worth the trip.

It's still a very active monastery, home to around 300 monks.  It's not uncommon to see bearded men in austere black robes walking from building to building, always with the look of utmost contemplation.  The main church within the monastery contains the Trinity, one of, if not the most famous work by the medieval Russian icon painter Andrei Rublev (himself easily the most famous of all icon painters).  The early works of iconography were extremely influential on later works, to the point that nearly all of them are variations based on one of two images (the Madonna and Child or the Trinity), so it was cool to see one of the originals.

The next day we decided to visit Gorki Leninskiye, a sprawling estate some five miles south of Moscow that was nationalized by the Soviets and converted to Lenin's personal getaway home.  It ended up taking up nearly the entire day, as the bus that took us there wasn't really the bus we wanted (even though they had the same number and went along the same route--except for the stop we needed) and dropped us in a sleepy little suburban neighborhood.  But it gave us a chance to play one of my favorite Russian games: Directions Scavenger Hunt.  This is where you ask a passerby directions, which are inevitably exceedingly vague (i.e. "Go in that direction").  You go in that direction, find another person, and repeat, making your way piecemeal toward your ultimate destination.  Somehow, we ended up finding the back entrance to the place, and found ourselves in the middle of the estate fields before we even realized we were on the grounds.  And let me tell you, despite his proletarian ideology, Lenin was not hurting for digs.

He sure put the "vanguard" in "vanguard party."

My favorite part of the estate actually had nothing to do with the estate itself, but was a recreation og Lenin's apartment and working quarters within the Kremlin.  It was clear that the place doesn't get many visitors; the extremely nice man working there locked the doors in order to give us a private tour (and all for the affordable price of about $1.30).  Most impressive was Lenin's personal library, containing pretty much every imaginable subject in most of the major languages of the time.  Our guide claimed Lenin read over 500 pages a day, and while I'm not sure about that, he was definitely a voracious reader.  

After that, we decided to temporarily forgo the main museum in favor of the buffet at the Soviet-era museum near the front of the complex.  Of course, by the time we got there, the buffet was closed, and by the time we finished our tour at that museum, the other had closed.  So unfortunately we didn't get to see Lenin's wheelchair or his Rolls-Royce.  But let's just pretend I took the following photo:

When the Russians winterize a car, they winterize a car, dammit.

Now I'm back in the PTZ, and coming down the home stretch.  I'm leaving for Moscow on the 18th, and leaving Russia on the 19th, so I'm trying to enjoy my last two weeks here as much as possible and see everyone one last time.  It still doesn't really feel like I'm leaving in 14 days, but I assume that will change as I start saying goodbyes and packing up my stuff.