museums in Russia charge a higher admission to foreigners; in the case of the national gallery in Syktyvkar, that is admission is four times as much. however, my quiet manner fooled the staff and they didn't even bother to ask ilya if i was a local. afterward, ilya told me to speak as little english as possible. i kept my mouth shut the whole time - that is what you should do in art museums anyway, right?
of these works, all wholly unfamiliar to me, many were striking and many were dull, but all were new to me. though i could not read their titles, i remember one that i named myself "Still Life with Communisti."
on the way home, i was convinced our bus driver was frank black.
i bought out the souvenir shop - not really, but we managed to spend 1800 rubles... and returned home where ilya's family threw us a party. many toasts and several glasses of wine - the best wine form a box i have ever had, in all seriousness - but still i have not managed to partake of the vodka. what is wrong with me?
i am grateful that i don't know how to read metric scales well enough to be bothered to weigh myself. there's no way i will not have brought back some extra flesh as a souvenir.
here i will attempt to list the things i have eaten in the last 24 hours. note that some, but not even most, of these were consumed in single portions. the rest, as moy moozh's mama would have it, were in numerous doses: tea; bread with meat and cheese; pickles; pickled cherry tomatoes; tea cake; salad of crab, egg, and corn; salad of cabbage, carrots, and corn with mayonnaise; olives galore; salted mushrooms in sour cream (YUM); more meat and cheese; more bread and butter; morse (or nectar of the gods); cranberries in sugar; salmon; golubotsi - meat, peppers, and rice wrapped in cabbage leaves; chicken; mashed potatoes; sauteed mushrooms; lavrik's famous meat salad; cucumbers, tomatoes, and red bell pepper straight from the garden; chocolates; wine, wine, and more wine; pepsi; more tea cake; fruit - oranges, pears, grapes; ice cream; ice cream with raisins; more chai - tea.
that was just the last 24 hours. don't get me started on Alina's borscht or the shainga aunt Tania brought me at theatre.
friday night - late morning for most of my world - i was treated to a traditional dance and music performance. though it was in Russian for this performance, Asya Kria normally perform entirely in Komi, the native tongue of this region. i couldn't understand a word, but much as i imagine opera fans feel, that was completely irrelevant. it was a sight to behold in spite of any language barrier, if for the dancing alone. and the opportunity to bond with ilya's aunt Tania, whom i completely adore.
leaving the theatre, i heard the other American in Syktyvkar at the moment exiting behind me.
today is my last full day with ilya's family. the toasts made at yesterday's celebration, though ilya had to translate them, made a crybaby of me. i wanted most then to speak russian so i could toast his family and return their incredible kindnesses. i cried this morning as i thought of the simplest way to tell my Russian family how humbles and honored i am to be not only accepted by them, but treated as if i was always meant to be here...
my next post will be mushy like this. you have been warned.
posted by trixievw @ 3:51 AM
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