Aw, Russia. How will I be able to cope with eating in a restaurant
that won’t cost me an arm and a leg and I won’t be hungry afterward? Where will the fun be when it comes to
trying to buy shoes and only being served with the right shoe? Or trying to go to the pool and won’t be
hassled about the ‘health certificate’ or needing a meaningless swimming cap?
Speaking of swimming, in honor of my
blog, I feel the need to readdress the swimming pool. Due to my ever changing work schedule I had
to let my toe pass expire, my toe pass is of course the health certificate
people need in order to swim. For my new
readers, the ‘health certificate’ is deemed medically necessary before you can
swim. For the low price of 250 rubles
($7) you have to take off your shoes and socks and jacket (because heaven
forbid anyone wear a jacket indoors) and show a doctor your feet, just to make
sure you don’t have any funky foot fungus or anything. Sure, this sounds all well and good, only the
doctor is an old woman who can’t be bothered with standing up, let alone
actually performing a real inspection. Let
me walk you through this: 1) take off socks and shoes before you enter the
office 2) give her the receipt 3) at this point she will sigh heavily and put
down her newspaper and glance in your direction and, then glance at your feet
and then sign the small piece of paper.
Then you thank her for some crazy reason and put your shoes back
on. The whole experience takes less than
one minute and you can’t help but feel ripped off and annoyed, what is the real
point of that? Would she even notice a
foot condition if she even saw one?
After receiving my overpriced
document I proceeded to the pool.
Happily it wasn’t too crowded, and the babushka population wasn’t as
high as normal. There’s nothing more
annoying than trying to do laps around old women who are terrified of getting
their hair wet because of the fear of ‘getting sick’. If you’re that worried about it, then why are
you here? I’d much rather deal with kids
splashing and screaming, but I cannot actually remember the last time I saw
children at the pool. Happily, the past few times I’ve
gone to the pool I haven’t been lectured or pissed anyone off for no clear
reason. Perhaps this is because I’ve
managed to blend in well enough so no one knows I’m American, which is a bit of
a backhanded compliment.
Addressing a topic I glossed over a
paragraph ago, a subject which never gets old; the timeless experience of
eating out. Buffets are a dime a dozen
here, but they aren’t quite the same as we are used to, you can order what you
want, but someone else serves it, so it’s rather good portion control, however,
what you get or pick is a gamble. After
months of overcooked buckwheat, over salted rice and over boiled pasta I had
all but given up on the idea of lunch.
But then I found this amazing little place called ‘Soup Café’. You can’t say there is any lack of
imagination here. I was so happy, a
place which served not only soup which was hot, not lukewarm, but genuinely
hot; but they also served unique soup, not just veggie broth and questionable
borsht. I was delighted to have pumpkin
soup, along with spinach soup; but then, like all things, it came to an
end. They’ve been in ‘renovation’ and ‘revamping’
mode for months now. Figures. So I found myself depressed and without a
place to unwind; so I had taken to just wandering around aimlessly either
killing time before or after a class. On
Thursday I had more time to kill than I had anticipated so I dared to try a ‘stolovaya’
again (buffet/ cafeteria). I was
welcomed by the aroma of……boiled things!
Yea! I spotted this questionable
meat and vegetable dish and when I inquired as to what it was, I was told that
it was pork with mayo and pickles. Only
in Russia would that seem like a totally normal combination. Pork. Mayonnaise. Pickles.
That’s about three food groups right there! I felt like walking on the wild side, so I
tried it; after all, what kind of person would I be if I just criticized
something without trying it? I have to
admit, it wasn’t terrible. It wasn’t
great, but it was edible.
Changing the topic, I’ve forgotten
to address the nightlife in this fair city.
Every city can try to boast about a great nightlife, but nothing puzzles
me more than when it’s 3am on a Tuesday and I will see hoards of people
wandering around or driving around.
Seriously, where is everyone going!?
Chances are, they either going home or club hopping. I’ve never fully adapted to the idea of leaving
my house at midnight because nothing cool is happening until one in the
morning. It doesn’t matter where you
are: Moscow, St. Petersburg, Novosibirsk, Tomsk, Krasnoyarsk, etc the part
doesn’t get started until midnight. And
then party really gets in full swing between the hours of 2am and 5am. When Gabi and I were in Krasnoyarsk, she had
made reservations for us at a club called Koloradiski Papa, and when we arrived
at 12:30 the place was just beginning to fill up. There are a few guidelines when it comes to
Russian night clubs:
1)
Dress to impress (if you’re a girl,
if you’re a guy, it’s totally cool to look as if you just rolled out of bed or
got hit by a garbage truck)
2)
Be prepared for a long of drinking.
Shots are a common thing, but it’s more common to order a shot, then some juice
and sip on both.
3)
Be prepared to eat. Russians are the biggest fans of snacking on
pickles, pickled mushrooms and or croutons (syharniki)
4)
Don’t try and be cool and freak
dance, everyone will think you are strange
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