In Soviet Russia, cultural experiences have you!

No matter what anyone says about Russia, it most certainly is never boring. That’s what I told myself when I ended up hanging out (if you could call it that) obscenely early this past Sunday with one of the girls from choir. She told me her friend Sergei would pick me up, which I didn’t find unusual. Of course, that was before I arrived at the designated meeting place to find a middle-aged man and his two kids. Sergei was waving a red flag, and, upon our meeting, informed me that he had been asked by the museum staff—we met at the Narvskiye Triumphal Gates—if he was trying to start a demonstration. So anyway, it turned out Sergei had been to America over ten years previously and was aching to practice his English on someone, even if that someone actually understood him better when he was speaking Russian. We drove to the Museum of the Political History of Russia—after getting and changing a flat tire on the way—where we met up with Olga, the girl from choir. I asked her how she knew this Sergei, to which she replied, “He’s my friend.” Uh, OK.
The museum itself was pretty interesting, and it would’ve been a rewarding trip had I not been dead tired and had I not been worrying about my presentation due Tuesday. Of course, after that, we had to do a tour of the cruiser “Aurora,” from which was fired the shot that started the revolution. Interesting stuff, except the tour had to do with the ship’s engines and involved an old guy talking at great length about…I have no idea what…while we had to stand in an uncomfortably warm room with very little to look at. At least Sergei paid.

Another thing to file under "cultural experience": a while ago, I went to the Russian movie “Garpastum.” Do not see the Russian movie “Garpastum.” It takes its cues from sappy period sports movies where the heroes overcome enormous odds and historical context to win the big game. Except it’s Russian, so nobody wins and in fact most of the heroes get shot or beaten to death. Oh, and every so often there are random explicit sex scenes. I’d blame the film’s crappiness on the language barrier, except that the Russians I was with said they didn’t understand what was going on either.

Altogether, though, things aren't bad, to the extent that I'm dreading the end of the semester and my return to the States. Instead of making a list of all the things I like about Russia, as the orientation people suggested as a means to deal with culture shock, I'm going to have to make a list of things I don't like about it. At least back home I won't have to worry about suddenly finding myself standing by the side of the road in the rain watching a policeman watch a middle-aged Russian man named Sergei change a flat tire.