Designed in 1937 by Vera Mukhina, the “Worker and Kolkhoz Woman” is a 78 foot high stainless steel sculpture that crowned the Soviet pavilion at the 1937 World’s Fair in Paris. The sculpture currently resides at VDNKH in Moscow and is one of my favorite examples of socialist realism. This photo was
taken in 2003 while the sculpture was undergoing restoration.

A cheap holiday in Russia can be made even cheaper by booking the luggage compartment instead of a bed, as Luke shows us in the above photo. Taken on an overnight train trip to St. Petersburg, before a train attendant could catch him in the act (and we hadn’t even started drinking yet).

“We won the war … foreigners will come to Moscow, walk around, and there’s no skyscrapers. If they compare Moscow to capitalist cities, it’s a moral blow to us”. – Josef Stalin

Back in the summer of 2003 I took Russian language courses at Moscow State University’s Center for International Education. Unfortunately, our classes weren’t held on the main university campus, but we did visit it occasionally to use the computer labs and play basketball. The main building that dominates the campus is one of the original “Seven Sisters” skyscrapers that Stalin ordered built in Moscow. It was constructed in the early 1950s by thousands of prisoners, most of whom were captured German POWs. This was the tallest building in Europe until 1990, and remains the tallest educational building in the world.

This is a view if the Hermitage as seen from a cruise on the Neva River. The Hermitage is an art museum that holds over 3 million pieces in its collection, including works by Michelangelo, da Vinci, Monet, Van Gogh, and Picasso. The Hermitage was founded by Catherine the Great in 1764 and now comprises several buildings, including the Winter Palace, former residence of the Russian Tsars. The Hermitage is a must see for anyone who visits St. Petersburg.

If you are interested in taking a cruise down the Neva, check out Viking River Cruises, which offers an itinerary that includes river excursions to both St. Petersburg and Moscow.

There aren’t too many Lenin statues still standing these days. This particular statue is located on Oktyabrskaya Ploshchad (October Square), a short walk from the dorm I lived in while studying in Moscow for a few months in 2003. Dedicated in 1985 by Moscow’s then mayor, Boris Yeltsin, this was the last statue of Lenin to be erected in the city. It’s now home to a thriving skater community.

This statue near Red Square depicts Marshal of the Soviet Union Georgy Zhukov, the most decorated general in the history of both Russia and the Soviet Union.

A monument to Yuri Gagarin, a Soviet cosmonaut who became the first human in outer space and the first to orbit the Earth. Taken while studying in Moscow in the summer of 2003.

The NYTimes reports on a topic familiar to anyone who has spent time in Russia during the summer months: a lack of hot water.

For all its new wealth and aspirations, spurred by a boom in oil and other natural resources, Moscow remains saddled with an often decrepit infrastructure. Around now, an apt symbol of its condition is the city’s hot water system, perhaps one of the more exasperating vestiges of Soviet centralized planning.

Buildings in Moscow usually receive hot water from a series of plants throughout the city, not from basement boilers, as in the United States. By summer, the plants and the network of pipelines that transport hot water need maintenance. Off goes the hot water. And in homes across the city, out come the pots and sponges and grumbling.

When my classmates and I first arrived in St. Petersburg in the summer of 2002, our program adviser gathered us in our dorm’s common room to go over some basic information – nearest metro station, class schedule, safety, whatever. At one point he added, “Oh, and they just turned off the hot water…yesterday. So that’ll be about two weeks without it.” We were perplexed by this. A centralized hot water system? The buildings don’t have individual water heaters? WTF? Still, the announcement didn’t really phase me. I mean, how cold could the water possibly be?

I regretted that thought the second I jumped in the shower and directly into a stream of teeth-chattering, goosebump-inducing, oh-my-god-did-I-just-jump-into-the Bering Sea COLD water. And so it went for two and a half weeks (until the pipes were cleaned and the faucets once again magically dispensed hot water). Some students preferred to boil water and use wash basins, but I was much too lazy to wait for water to boil and instead became quite adept at two minute ice-cold showers. One of my friends who was staying with a Russian family attempted to do this as well, until her homestay “mother” rushed after her, basin in hand, screaming that she would die of pneumonia if she took a cold shower. Thankfully, our class experienced no cold water-related casualties. The food, however, was an entirely different story.

This recent post by Cincy prompted me to write about my own experience teaching foreigners English (albeit, in my case, indirectly).

Back in the summer of 2003 I took Russian language classes at Moscow State University’s Center for International Education, a division of MGU formed to teach Russian to promising young foreign Communists back in the days of the Soviet Empire. As for me, the American, what better way to spend my summer than sitting in a stifling hot classroom (no air conditioning, comrades!) cramming my head with verbs, vocab, and cases for five hours a day, five days per week.

Moscow State U. – breeding ground for future party bureaucrats

Our only respite from this constant barrage of language was our lunch period, which was spent in the stolovaya, or cafeteria. The decor was strictly Soviet – this was, after all, an educational center for the proletariat. The food, as you could imagine, thoroughly sucked, yet the Russian teachers, police officers, and soldiers seemed to enjoy it. We instead chose to purchase chips, candy, and soda from the outside kiosks, much to to the chagrin of the surly cafeteria ladies. I usually opted for a Fanta and large bag of bacon or chicken flavored chips (yes, they really have chips with those flavors). Nevertheless, it was a time for us to just relax and speak some damn English without our teachers yelling at us. We were an odd bunch – a few Yanks, some Brits, a couple of Spaniards, a south Korean, and a pair of Pakistani diplomats. Most of us were college students with an academic reason for spending the summer at CIE, while others were there because their oil executive or stockbroker fathers thought it best they learn the local language.
So one day we were sitting there when a CIE staff member comes barreling through, speaking so fast I could barely understand. Something about a computer, I dunno. Liz points her finger at me, and the next thing I knew, I was being dragged to the director’s office.

“They want you to fix a computer or something. I told them you knew stuff about computers.”

“WHAT! Windows is going to be in freakin’ RUSSIAN!!”

I got to the office and there was no computer for me to fix. I was thoroughly confused, until they introduced me to a representative from a language software company. She said her company was developing a new program to teach young Russians the vocabulary of their American counterparts and they would just need my help for an hour, hour and a half tops. I agreed, still unsure as to what exactly I would be doing, until she e-mailed me a list of subjects we would possibly be discussing. Oh man, I thought, they’re going to record me?!

I had spent the following weekend in St. Petersburg, and arrived back in Moscow on Monday morning, stumbling off the train and rushing to make it back to CIE, all while ridiculously low on sleep. Oh yeah, I could already tell that this “interview” was going to be stellar. I met up with the software representative and we hopped on the metro. The “studio” was located in a stereotypical crumbling office building/factory of some sort. Man, that place must have been buzzing with economic inefficiency back in the day.

They sat me down in front of a mic, gave me a mug of scalding hot tea (it was July, mind you), completed the sound check, and the questions started to roll in. The interviewer was a very nice fellow, and explained we would be discussing sports. Sports, hey! I can talk about sports!

Q: What are your favorite sports?
My favorite sports are soccer, baseball and surfing.

Q: Do you go surfing in Washington?
No, no opportunities for surfing in Washington, only when I go back to California.

And so on and so on. They had me explain the equipment you need to go surfing, so I covered the various types of boards, talked about the importance of a leash, and mentioned that wearing a wetsuit was probably a good idea. This was critical information that young Muscovites needed to know.

The next set of questions centered around a typical day in the life of Lindsay Fincher, student at George Washington University:

Q: What is your favorite place to eat?
We have a favorite place, called ‘Lindy’s Red Lion’, and it’s a bar and restaurant, and they have some… some very, very good hamburgers. I eat a lot of hamburgers, so, if a place has good hamburgers, then I like it.

Brilliant, Lindsay…just brilliant. If hordes of young Russians descend upon “Lindy’s Red Lion” while strolling around Foggy Bottom, now you know why.

Q: Do you have a vacuum cleaner?
I don’t have a vacuum cleaner myself, but each dorm has a vacuum cleaner in it, and if you want to use it, you can go downstairs and get it.

What kind of bizarre question is that?!

Q: What time do you go to bed?
I usually go to bed at two in the morning.

Q: Is this time enough to sleep?
Yeah. It’s enough time.

After the interview was finished, they handed me a nice, crisp 500 ruble bill (around $15 back then) as payment for my time. Ooh yeah, I ain’t reportin’ this to those suckas at the IRS. I promptly spent it on cheesy Russian souvenirs, like Soviet leader stacking dolls and propaganda posters.

I hadn’t given the program much thought after I left Moscow. I never knew if they had actually made it until, out of curiosity, I checked the company’s website about a year ago and found that it had indeed come out under the title “Frankly Speaking: Real American” (cue theme song from Team America: World Police, please). You can even buy it online for a mere 816 rubles ($30), just make sure you have at least a Pentium 200. Or, you can read the script that I found online (and from which I grabbed all the dialogue from while simultaneously reminding myself of what an idiot I must have sounded like). I’m listed as Lindsay Fincher, USA, George Washington University, студентка по специальности Political Science and Russian History in sections Спорт от софтбола до серфинга and День, как день. (Sorry if you can’t see the Cyrillic, but whatev, download the language pack if you are so inclined).

You know, I don’t think I’ve ever told anyone about this…except for my friends at CIE, obviously…but not even my parents. It’s just one of those things you forget about, and then remember and think to yourself, “That was pretty odd.”

Nevertheless, I hope that at least one Russian learned something from this program…maybe picked up a hint of a California accent, got a craving for a Lindy’s Hawaiian burger, or is now poring over a map looking for Russian surf spots. I dunno, surely the oil and gas mecca of Sakhalin has some waves? Just gotta watch out for those ice floes.

Here you go…more pics from my summer in Moscow

Chris, Luke, and myself with our inflatable instruments of death – On July 4th we went down to VDNKh, an open air market/amusement park.  While we were there we bought these inflatable toys and ran around the park hitting each other with them.  The Russians thought we were INSANE, but it was fun.  We did look pretty odd holding these things on the long metro ride back to our dorm, though. 

The group at Peter and Paul Fortress – Eight of us took a trip to St. Petersburg for a weekend.  Here we are (minus Liz, who was taking the picture) at Peter & Paul Fortress.  Since we only had 2 days in St. Pete, Liz and I (the only people in the group who had been to St. Pete) ran the group like drill sergeants so the others could see all the major sites.  Whining about the amount of walking, the warm temperature, etc. was NOT tolerated.

Miriam, Liz, and myself in front of the Church of the Spilled Blood – Another pic from St. Pete.  Luke took this picture when we weren’t expecting it, thus all of our stupid poses.  We were deciding what to do in this picture…Liz and Miriam said we should do a pyramid and I said hey, now there’s a stupid idea…and said we should do the onion dome pose instead.  In this picture I demonstrate the “onion dome” pose.

Liz, Miriam, myself with my cool flag – Another picture from Church of the Spilled Blood, but in this one I have my cool “I *heart* Pityer” flag.  Yeah, you wish you had a flag like that…

Dinner at the Georgian restaurant – This is from my last night in Moscow…awww memories.  For my last meal I chose the Georgian restaurant, which we often went to because the food was so incredible.  There’s John, Miriam, myself, and Luke (with the crazy face).  Mmmmm Georgian food.

I miss Moscow and want to go back NOW.