Feel Yourself Russian

Day 5

Being dirty is usually not very fun. Being dipped in the mud of St. Petersburg at least sounds better. And actually it is better because St. Petersburg is a gorgeous city. It's often referred to as the "Venice of Russia" because of its shimmering canals and grandiose architecture. I was so taken in by the scenery that I kept completely missing what the tour guide was saying. After every stop Hannah would do a wonderful recap for me and whoever else had been distracted. Mostly it was just more stories of sordid love affairs and people being bludgeoned to death in the night.

After about three hours of this we stopped at a cafe where I enjoyed superior hot chocolate and inferior cheesecake (in comparison to what's served in the U.S.) I spoke briefly with Emas who planned the trip and whom I mentioned in the prior post. Here's an example of what a typical exchange with him is like.

Emas: What's up dawg? [appropriate gesture]
Me: Nothing dawg. [appropriate gesture]
[Hannah laughing uncontrollably.]
Emas: Are your glasses prescription or do you wear them as a statement of fashion?
Me: They're prescription.
Emas: So you're blind...
Me: Yep.
Emas: Me too! That's why I called you dog. I really thought you were a dog!

And because one day I wore braids intertwined with red ribbon, he has since called me Pocohantas. He frequently asks me where my canoe is and when I stopped by the study abroad office he started playing "Colors of the Wind." It's kind of funny because my dad also called me Pocohantas when I was younger because of my proclivity for tardiness...

Anyway, after the tour we went to a show called, "Feel Yourself Russian" which was held at the Nikolaevsky Palace. We took the location as a good sign, but had no idea what to expect otherwise. The show started when four average looking guys in shiny Russian garb walked onto the stage. One of them blew into a tuner and I thought, "Oh, they're just the Russian equivalent of a barbershop quartet." Ha! When they opened their mouths to sing, out came a divine cross between folk music and Gregorian chant. The Picasso quote, "Art washes from the soul the dust of everyday life," is so perfectly apt to describe how I felt as I listened. After they finished belting out perfectly pitched chords, some female singers came out. The youngest one in a blue dress had a mischievous expression and kept making shrill, Xena warrior princess type noises. Next came the Russian equivalent of break dancers who were flying and leaping and performing unbelievably complicated and athletic dance steps as they squatted two feet off the ground. And then there were strange dancing Eskimo-looking things and we couldn't tell if it was one person in the costume or two. In any case, the Eskimos kept getting closer and closer to those of us who were in the front row and then, he/she/they actually jumped into my lap! I had the eyes of the entire audience on me and ended up with a mouthful of fur. After the show ended Hannah looked at me and burst out laughing.

When it was time to leave, we looked outside and discovered a torrential downpour. Hannah I couldn't have cared less because we had enjoyed the show so much. My cheeks actually hurt from smiling. So we splashed along through the rain, Hannah in her big white poncho looking like the abominable snowman and me with my shoes so full of dirt, gravel, and water they could have just as easily been called terrariums. I ended the night with Hannah and others at a Georgian restaurant where I savored a large bowl of Italian soup.