Journey to the Center of My Mind

Well it’s been almost a week since I left for Tiumen, and I’m hoping I can remember all the good times I had there.  Over all, I would say that if I did plan to stay in Russia for another year, I would definitely want to live there.  It’s a rich, clean, European city (I think the first one led to the other two).  I was met at the train station by Katherine, her gorgeous department head Svetlana and her cute husband Artyom.  By the way, if you ever travel within Russia, all the trains run on Moscow time.  This is a lesson I learned the hard way.  The first night, Katherine, or Ketrin, as she’s called in Russian, and I went into the city center and found a fancy restaurant that we decided was probably a mafia hang-out.  When we were approached by two creepy young men, we were convinced.  Still, it was a great meal, and my first time eating out since our breakfast in Moscow...

The next day we went with Katherine’s friend Lena to a celebration of German culture in Russia.  I was cynical at first, but when traveling I try to be open to anything.  It turned out to be great; a bunch of speeches I couldn’t understand, alternating with folk dancing, singing and questionable pop songs.  It was really fun, until the “awards ceremony” at the end, which felt like a high school graduation where you know no one and barely understand the language.  After that, we went to a cool rustic restaurant (where I almost ate a fish eye) and then I finally bought my warm, yet cool, sexy boots.  That night we went to the talent show at Katherine’s school, which was really entertaining, but again included a lot of lame-o awards.  After the show, we went back downtown to find a bar, a surprisingly difficult enterprise.  The German pub was closed and we even peeked into a “gentlemen’s club” that turned out to be even seedier than we had guessed.  Much to her embarrassment, we came out to hear a university student calling, “Hyello, Ketrin!”  Finally we ended up at an Uzbekistan restaurant, and I was sorry I wasn’t more hungry.  All I could get down were two mulled wines and an order of chak-chak.  Fatty!

The next day we were invited for dinner at Svetlana and Artyom’s, which happens to be right across the hall from Katherine.  Her university hooked her up with a gorgeous apartment in the faculty building.  So we just spent the day going to the impressive open-air market, drinking wine and baking cookies.  For dinner, Artyom made plov which put mine to shame.  They also invited another man who works at the department, with whom they seem to be trying to fix up Katherine.  Too bad he’s fat, balding, over thirty and, if that weren’t enough, said stupid things about both women and America!  If he thinks I lost my femininity, he can suck my dick!  

Monday and Tuesday were Russian holidays, some sort of Russian Federation attempt to reign in the Day of Revolution.  Similar, Katherine noted, is the Russian Federation national anthem, which is just the Soviet Union anthem, minus the references to Lenin and Stalin.  Anyway, we were planning just to walk around the city, but were got no farther than the circus square.  Outside was a huge crowd of people singing along with a live concert.  City dignitaries were there, as were young flag-waving members of Yedinaya Rossiya, Putin’s political party.  We rode the carousel at the year-round mini-amusement park, then joined in the fun, despite Fulbright’s warning to avoid organized masses of patriotic Russians.  But how could we resist such a joyous celebration?  The funny thing was, it struck me that a similar demonstration in America wouldn’t attract the same following.  Sure, we have the Fourth of July, but it’s hardly a display of pure nationalism.  Here were performances songs about “How I love you, Russian earth,” and the crowd, young and old, singing along.  It was really a remarkable thing to witness.  So was the life-size pizza in the audience, who obliged my request for a friendly photo, and then got a little too friendly.  When we’d had enough of the concert, we stumbled upon Tiumen’s hilariously Soviet-themed restaurant.  Come for the romantic nostalgia, stay for the borshch!  That night we made eggplant parmigiana and watched silly American movies dubbed into Russian.  All in all, a perfect day.

Wednesday morning, we learned the most amazing, least probable, most important thing in the world happened: Barack Obama won the American presidential election.  Even writing it now, I can hardly believe it.  For the first time in my life, I’m extremely proud to be an American.  I was so glad to be able to share that moment with Katherine, and we both almost cried watching his acceptance speech, despite the Russian language over-dubbing.  A minute later I got a text-message from the ETA in Vladivostock with one word: OBAMA!  My thoughts exactly.  It was also the first I really appreciated the Russian custom of congratulating people on holidays.  Many people have been congratulating me on our new president, and I couldn’t be happier to thank them.

In the afternoon, I got to watch Katherine in action.  I don’t know how she was a year ago when she was in my place, but let me tell you, that girl can teach.  I learned quite a bit from observing her, and already used one of her lesson plans today.  In addition to teaching the students at the Tiumen Technical University, she also does bi-weekly American culture/English language classes with the other teachers.  Great idea!  If I weren’t so lazy, I’d suggest the same thing at the Ped. Institute.  My train back was inexplicably two hours longer than the train there, but it was ok because I rode with Danielle Steele.  Yes, ladies and gentlemen, after 22 years of good literature, I’m enjoying the hell out of Palomino.  Actually, I picked that book for my trip because she’s a very popular author in Russia, so unlike other English-language books, it wouldn’t single me out as an American.  Still, I did bring the book from the states, and now I can see why she’s a best-seller.

Now I’m back home, and it really does feel like coming home.  Tiumen was great, and in some ways a nicer city, but it’s a good feeling to return to a routine.  I taught four successful classes today, all of which were well-attended, and even took care of grocery shopping and paying for the all-important internet.  In the evening I helped a young man with his Fulbright application essay, and can’t help feeling rather self-satisfied.  Of course, hubris is one of my biggest fears, so I’ll take care not to be ambitious tonight.   I guess the morals of this story are my great respect and fondness for Katherine, and the unexpected return of my faith in the American people.  Danielle Steele couldn’t write it any better.