"Yo no compro pan"

For those keen on the Spanish language, you understand that the title translates to "I don't buy bread." On a visit to France, my Spanish significant other and his brother were instructed to repeat the phrase if a French person asked him something. It's a clever mnemonic to say, "I don't understand [French]" or, je ne comprends pas.

I didn't go to France. I took a weekend trip to Montreal, Canada, which is conveniently located a few hours from the New York Capital Region.

As sarcastic as this may sound to some, crossing the border was accompanied with quite a dose of culture shock. Driving through the mountains and rural counties of upstate New York was shocking enough, but I was quite surprised to see that road signs and radio stations were posted and broadcast in an unfamiliar French. Both French and English are spoken in Montreal, but everything was overwhelmingly French (albeit French-Canadian). Canada is (more or less) the first country I have visited where I didn't really know the language.

My excitement for a foreign, French-filled weekend in the French Quarters was quickly extinguished when I learned that the hostel receptionist was from Spain. Of course.

Just kidding. Many great things come from Spain (as I will sarcastically note in a future post).

Highlights of the weekend, more photos can be found on my Facebook page in the album "Your breath smells like poutine":

The Jean Talon market had fresh, colorful crops and a variety of food. Unfortunately, you can't legally cross the US-Canadian border with meat or vegetables. It was a shame that I couldn't bring the bison meat over. Lucky for me, I found a kilogram of buckwheat (gretchka) to bring home as a souvenir to remember my life in Russia.

A large part of traveling is trying new cuisine. I find it extremely stressful to do in a short period of time. People said that we had to try the crepes, poutine, this restaurant, that bar, and so on. I won't lie--stress tasted delicious.

Montreal is known for this dish, poutine. It is everything I love on a plate: crunchy french fries topped with creamy cheese curds and a rich, gravy sauce. We ordered it with sauteed onions and ground beef on top. Finishing this dish may leave us finished on a cardiac hospital one day, but I certainly enjoyed it (up to a certain point).

Besides the food, landmarks, and clubs that people suggested to us, one thing I learned too late was that almost everyone who drives to Montreal leaves with a speeding ticket. The photo above was the first photo taken in Montreal. It's a driving school and I thought it looked funny. On my way home, I may have been going a little bit faster than the posted speed limit because the roads were empty. A state trooper saw me first. I did not have the last laugh, of course.

NOTE: Follow the speed limit posted because the laws of physics always win. Also, if you are going to have poutine, a "regular" portion should suffice for two people.

Good news for Snow White

Going to an orchard to pick your own fruits are good, wholesome fun activities that cleanse your soul and liver after an action-packed weekend.

The Russian winter had me on my knees and begging for spring. I was allergic to spring and wished for summer. Samara's summer was boiling hot this year and I was aching for fall. Fall is here and I couldn't be happier.

Fall is a special season. Many people describe the air as "crisp and cool." I know that it's fall because there's a special fresh, dewy smell when you walk out first thing in the morning. No high definition could ever capture the brilliant colors of New York trees in fall. I've missed this fall for the past three years. Today, I gave autumn a bear hug and went apple picking with my new classmates-turned-friends.

Autumn didn't return the hug.

Our plan for an exciting apple-picking jubilee was quickly extinguished when we saw a sign telling us that there would be no more apple-picking for the day. Not all was lost because they picked the apples for us and sold a bunch in their farmer's market. I'm not complaining because they picked the good apples.

Nature and gravity also stole the apples from us. As public health students, we are ready to serve the public. I figured that we could put the apples back on the trees so that other people could pick them.

That plan to replace the apples onto the trees surprisingly didn't work out too well.

Fortunately, this farm had a petting-zoo of soft (but smelly) animals to distract customers from the fact that there were no more apples left on the trees for the week. I also learned that there are other well-educated adults cannot correctly or confidently identify different types of farm animals.

Below: Popular fall crops sold at their farmer's market.

Adventure in Americaland

While living in Russia, I learned so much about Russian culture. Makes sense. I concurrently learned about Spanish culture, history, their influence on American history and that they have a high quality of furniture** and shoes.

Meet Diego. He is from Spain. He lives in Russia and spreads the language of his glorious country. Diego came to America for the very first time. He is a man very proud of his heritage and country. During this visit, part of my goal was to prove how great my country is. This is his story.

There are a lot of foreigners--immigrants and tourists alike--in America. To witness the very first moments of a landing on our soil is very special. By special, I mean absolutely humorous. Because he was only here for a short time, I had to pack a lot of America into ten days. The following is a recap of things that made an impression on him:

-A school bus. That was the first thing that caught his eye. He was amused that we actually have a yellow bus that goes around "collecting" students to go to school.

-Nightlife. He was kind of annoyed with the dress codes with some places. The first night, my friends took us to a bar that was very reminiscent of a college party, as seen in popular films. He noted that our population of 'Jersey Shore' characters are very similar to the people in Valencia.

We don't know who these people are but it was taken in a NYC bar. This is embarrassing, isn't it?

-Albany. Please understand that New York City is a city within New York State. Albany is the state capital. Diego was very shocked to see how dangerous Albany is. I was also very shocked to see how dangerous Albany is. One wrong turn is all it takes.

Beautiful brownstone houses off Lark Street in downtown Albany. This is part of the safer side of Albany as we've been told.

-Home security. Rather, the lack of home security compared to Russian and Spanish homes. My windows are locked, but aren't barred or have barbed wires on them. Although I have a sliding door (for example) with a bar that prevents people from opening it, he was not convinced that it would deter robbers. I have two locks on my front door, but for him, it doesn't compare to having a billion locks like in Russia. He was very jumpy for the first few hours in my apartment.

-Suburbia. This just doesn't exist elsewhere. He was surprised how many houses we have because he is used to people living in flats on top of each other. He was also in shock with how many cars we have in the US.

For some reason, it was amusing to him that some businesses and offices are run in buildings that look like houses. My college roommate still finds it strange that some doctors and dentists run their practices from their homes.

This is a view from the Corning Tower's observation deck in Albany, NY. We are looking towards the east over the Hudson River. Diego wants to show his friends that we have highways that are shaped like this.

-Demographics. He knows that the majority of my friends are immigrants or offspring of immigrants, but he didn't really expect so many "non-Americans" living here.

My American friends. Besides Diego, this also excludes Avani (lower left). She was naturalized.

There was a sign in Russian at the tiger exhibit at the Bronx Zoo. The only tiger I saw in Samara was at the local zoo. That tiger did not look like he had the strength to do anything.

-Everyone speaks Spanish. That was annoying in proving a point. He said, "Spain doesn't need to come here to conquer your country because our former colonies already are." He was referring to the Hispanic population.

A moving truck in the Bronx most likely owned by Spanish-speakers. He found this hilarious. I found it hilarious that the front was decorated with American flags.

-American weddings are extravagant and super expensive.

We went to my cousin's wedding. There, he witnessed a room full of Asians, the electric slide, and cocktail hour. Congratulations to Bert and Maricel. Hooray!

-People are generally nice here. Store clerks, gas attendants, and other service workers are much more pleasant to deal with.

-Toys 'R' Us is an American company. It made sense when he realized that the name is in English.

Cindy and Diego in the Times Square Toys 'R' Us store. His expression is very similar to the one I took of my dog when I dressed her up as a pirate. Not happy.

-Go Diego Go! is a popular character. My nephew actually prefers him over me. Fact.

Souvenirs

I'm not one to judge because from Russia, I brought desserts, bacon flavored chips, tea and cookies as souvenirs. Besides the usual t-shirts and shot glasses he bought as souvenirs, he brought home (for his mommy and the rest of his family):

-Ziploc bags. Spanish technology hasn't caught up yet with the zipping feature.

-Sink drain catcher. For the kitchen because it's brilliant.

-Pop-tarts. Chocolate fudge flavored. He got hooked after I took him to he Pop-Tarts store in NYC.

-Granola bars.

-Pill organizer cases with the days of the week and times.

It's one thing to have an experience in the US, but nothing tops it off better than being knighted with a 'Bronx name.' I've never heard anything like this before, but that's because I'm not hip. I convinced Diego to buy a CD from some kid promoting his work on the streets.

Apparently, 'D-Boogie' is a cooler name than Diego.

**Italian furniture isn't really "Italian" because the smart Italians buy the constructed furniture frames from Spain and upholster it themselves, therefore passing it as Italian. Interpret this piece of information as you'd like.

There's no room for fools in school

Education values are different for every person. In the US, it's a common practice for students and their families to go to school on credit. We ask the banks and government for money to pay for university. Non-Americans are usually shocked to hear that it's easy to ring up a half-million dollar bill for a four-year private college. True story.

Some of my foreign friends thought it was strange for me to be so serious about my studies. There's a certain pressure over me when I'm spending invisible money that doesn't even belong to me. I'm not going to mess around.

We, in the US, have a strict no-no policy on plagiarism--on copying the thoughts or ideas of other people--cheating, working together, etc. Publishers are also really big about their copyright rules. My ears have already bled after hearing about the rules for the 12,409,548th time. After being abroad, I realize that this is probably a super strange concept for the international students.

- In Argentina, my theatre/dance professor told me straightforward to go online to copy and paste articles into my research paper.

- I didn't buy textbooks in Argentina, everything was photocopied.

- Russian students can sometimes give monetary bribes to their professors. Unfortunately, students sometimes have no other choice.

- In Spain, you don't even have to go to classes. Just show up to take exams.

Pardon me as it is now high time for me to study until my eyes bleed.

America the Beautiful

I'm still sweating the red, white and blue--this time with stars.

I've been home for three weeks, and I am glad to report that my adjustment isn't nearly as bad as I had expected it to be. 

Now what?

- I will continue posting blogs. Foreigners often ask me what life in the US is like. I want to offer answers. Plus, I've learned over the year that I enjoy writing very much.

- Because I've finally realized that I enjoy writing (I've been in denial), I'm freelancing to pay for my meals while I'm back in school.

- While growing up, people have been drilling the "School is cool" mantra in my head. For that reason and more, I am going back for a Master of Public Health degree in epidemiology. I will study epidemics, not diseases. PLEASE don't show me your skin ailments, it can be contagious.

- I refuse to forget Russian. It took too much time and effort to get to where I am today and I don't want to lose it. Encouragement is encouraged, as always. On that note, I must study Spanish for professional and well, super personal reasons.

Where am I?

In your hearts, of course. Physically, I'm back in my hometown in the great big state of New York. I live in the southern-most region of NY--but not in NYC and definitely not New Jersey. Please note that New York City belongs to a state. Albany is the capital of New York. It is not in the city and it is located about 2.5 hrs north.

Readjusting and reuniting takes a lot of energy. I have been cruising along and reconnecting with friends and family. Readjusting to small things like going to the grocery store or driving on smooth, paved roads aren't stressful but amusing.

Cheers (eye-to-eye contact) to a non-adventurous suburban lifestyle in America!

Final impressions

In my final days, I'm trying to pack as many activities into my schedule as possible. Packing my bags, however, is not part of these fun activities.

I went to a local museum--just to see an exhibition from the Peter and Paul Fortress from St. Petersburg. Then, I went to Lenin's house where he actually (gasp) lived before going to Kazan for university. I also held off from going to museums because I needed my Russian to be good enough to understand what's going on. Artifacts tell a story, but the words keep you from mistaking a guillotine with a deli slicer. (Cultural Note: For anything written in English, multiply by 100 to get the word count in Russian.)

Where Lenin slept and studied before leaving Samara for Kazan University. Compared to the rest of the house and to his family members' rooms, his room was the least decorated.

How to put a man in his place. A medieval torture device on display in the Alabin Museum in Samara. This exhibit was taken from the Peter and Paul Fortress in St. Petersburg.

A few days ago, I was invited to tour a public hospital in Samara alongside a Spanish professor and Macedonian students. I am glad that I received this tour at the end of my stay because it could have tainted my view of Russia completely. As grateful as I am that I got an insider's view of a hospital, I'm still in utter shock of what I saw. Maybe those who complain (residents, citizens, and foreigners alike) about the quality US healthcare will shut their mouths if they see what I saw.

Seeing Diego in over-sized scrubs kept my mood bright despite the dreary atmosphere. Enjoy the demeaning photo before he discovers that I've posted it and makes me take it down. In hospitals, the typical uniform is not that much different from US hospitals, but they wear sandals and chef-like caps.

_________________________________________

I'm going home. The time is right to leave and I haven't become jaded yet. In Tolstoy's "War and Peace," a character named Pierre discovers that he lost a great fortune but feels richer after a life-changing experience. If you know the story, then it's obvious that I didn't have the same experiences as Pierre (he was in prison, and I'm not comparing Russia to a prison). How Tolstoy translates to me: It sucks that I'm going home because it feels like I'm leaving a lot behind, but I feel richer and 'fuller' after being here.

This isn't a good bye, of course. I'm only changing my location.

Throw your gang signs up

Please read about 'gopniks' because I couldn't have done a better job regarding this subject.

NOT an example of a gopnik, just a ladies' man in the making.

They know drama

There is a TNT network in Russia like we have in the US. There are programs that are Russian versions of the American shows. Try and guess what the original American programs are. Have fun!

SOLUTIONS!

1. The Nanny (Моя прекрасная няня)

2. Married With Children (Счастливы вместе)

3. Scrubs (Интерны)

"Boom!" went the night

Around 12.30am last night, I heard an explosion. No one else heard it so I assumed that it was just another Russian driving somewhere. A few seconds later, I heard another explosion. Well, that's not right. From our fifth-floor window, we saw our dumpsters on fire. It didn't seem like a typical cigarette fire because it was too rapid and explosive. Of course, it was terrifying that the dumpsters were so close to the building (and could be close to a gas line), but I was afraid that the firefighters wouldn't come in a timely manner. Fortunately, they arrived 10 minutes after. That was a welcomed surprise.

Smokey the bear says it's super stupid to open the window when you're above a fire.

At 12:20am, I went down to throw away some garbage (non-flammable, all organic material) and immediately went to the courtyard for a few minutes. At 12:25ish, I went back home and there was a man standing in the entrance waiting to enter. He was there without keys and he wasn't calling anyone on the callbox. Funny thing is, Diego immediately called out this guy's suspiciousness (actually, he says that about everyone). I heard the explosions after we got home. It's probably a coincidence, but who knows. It would suck if we were the ones who let the culprit enter the building. It would have sucked more if we were still at the door when the explosion happened.

Coming out of the building today, I saw boxes "blocking" the entrance. This apparently means, "Watch out, we're throwing ashes from the rooftop."

I used to complain that the trash chute in our building doesn't work.

During this event, the neighbors were also sticking their heads out of the window. I couldn't make out what they were shouting to each other (I don't like inhaling ashes so I kept my window closed), but I was scared they were blaming the foreigners living in the building. Strange night.

Not quite 'yellow fever'

Somehow, I came across this blog a few days ago and find it interesting. The writer is an American living in the middle of Russia and dedicates his site to Russian women. At first, I was repulsed by the idea and disgusted by the fact that anyone could do this to women (from anywhere). Looking a little bit deeper, I see that he has some interesting points to make. The post about the difference between the reactions towards pregnancy in America and Russia elicits a compelling discussion.

Your opinions are your own about his site. I've written him and received this answer,

Wow.. another American as crazy as me :) I just got done browsing through your blog. Nice job and nice impressions. Obviously we differ on various aspects of Russian Femininity but that is to be expected.

FYI I believe that Russian Women have enormous levels of womanly "power" that a typical feminist would refuse to admit. When you get a chance you can read this post because I think it pretty much nails what my message is.

Take a look at this site for yourself. Though we don't share the same opinions, I certainly do respect his and I welcome different viewpoints.

Six days left...

In Moscow, a Russian-speaking, non-Moscovite man asked me for directions and I responded accordingly without hesitation. I am not a Moscovite nor am I Russian. That felt good. In my hometown in New York, travelers have asked me for directions, but I'm afraid I was only right 50% of the time. That's a bit embarrassing.

This weekend, I had the pleasure of hosting CouchSurfers (CS) for a few nights. This was my first real interaction with the CS network and it couldn't have been better. Before making judgments or getting nervous, it's credible and I've known others who have had great experiences with it. Now I am vouching for it.

We hosted a pair of young travelers--one from Moscow and the other from Chelyabinsk--who were just extremely pleasant and great cooks. The great thing about traveling is that you are constantly learning, even if it's not a goal. Maybe it was ironic that they were Russian CSers hosted by a foreigner, but we taught each other a lot. I'm not surprised that sometimes I learn more about something in a few days worth of conversation compared to a textbook.

From the left is Marina from Chelyabinsk (CS), Diego from Spain (hidden), Roma from Samara, Stass from Samara, and Sergei from Moscow (CS). Marina made sushi rolls and Sergei was making apple pierozhki.

Couchsurfers or not, I now have extremely high expectations for my guests.

It was a blessing to have new eyes see the city because it refreshed my feelings about Samara. It's a good thing.

7 Days, 7 Sins

Today starts the countdown of 7 days until I go home—if all goes as planned, of course. Though I am unbelievably excited to go home to my family, friends, steak, and US soil, I don't know how ready I am to go back to the States. It's going to be strange and honestly a little scary.

I've grown comfortable everywhere I've lived, but towards the end of my stays, I feel jaded about the city and indifferent to it. Never say goodbye on bad terms.

I was born and raised in a metro New York suburb and I was ready to bolt to university as soon as I turned 18. I immediately fell in love with Washington DC and never wanted to leave. At the end of my second year, I was again anxious to get out of the city. As an aside, I lived on the second floor of a dorm on a busy street across a hospital and metro station. The noise drove me crazy. The night before I left Washington for the summer, my roommate and I were given a private tour to the top of a church bell tower where we could see a beautiful panoramic of the city. All feelings of anxiety and urban frustrations floated away. It was the perfect way to leave DC before going the summer and a semester abroad. In Mendoza, Argentina, I was (and still am) in love with the little city until the very end—when I became irritated at small things that didn't bother me before like curious stares and questions about being a foreigner. The night before I left, my friends and I went to the lounge of the highest building in the city, where the views were endless. I made peace with the city.

There's a pattern I just noticed while writing—I like saying goodbye from a higher altitude. Today, a friend took me to a scenic location outside the city where I've never been before. The view smacked me speechless.

Photos from Vertelyotka Square:

Roman (a long-term student from Nepal), yours truly, and my CSers Marina and Sergei.

Katya (a friend to all foreigners), me a bit taller, Marina, and Sergei.

Tonight made my goodbye more real.

Special Edition Post: Hot Stuff

If you don't understand Russian, read the cover of any issue of any fashion magazine. There, that's what it says. Honestly, magazines are great for language learning because it doubles as a picture-book when you are tired of reading.

According to the response from the last post, I figured I could give you guys a little more taste of fashion. Of course, the street is the best teacher if you are a Sartorialist follower, but magazines can also give you a good insight into culture.

There's a HUGE difference between women-targeted magazines in the US and in the Russian Federation even though they share the same publishers. Here, everything is written in cyrillic (laugh here). There's no real difference from one month's issue to the next month. This month you can find 10 ways to do your hair, but next month, look at the 10 different looks J.Lo had one weekend!!!! So cool!

There are Glamours, Vogues, and Cosmopolitan magazines here and most likely, the information is shared internationally. Some major points that I'd like to mention about Russian versions:

- Their 'man of the month' is naked, always with a strategically placed item hiding his assumed boy parts

- There are articles about children and parenthood (I gagged a little)

- They have a travel section (pleasant surprise)

Otherwise, everything is pretty much the same. Reading is fundamental!

Fee fai 'faux' fum...

Here are current trends that I see in Samara. Some people can of course pull of these styles very well, while others...don't. Unfortunately, these photos are pulled from the web because it's less offensive that way.

1. Indian/Middle Eastern-inspired pants

This is a unisex piece that you can see both men and women wear. At first, I thought that they were ridiculous until I tried on these silly pants. They are as convenient and airy as skirts but still has the privacy of pants.

Actually, anything resembling South Asian or Middle Eastern (in some cases, they aren't distinct, like "Asian") patterns are pretty trendy, too.

2. The Man Purse- I thought it was sweet to see men carrying their ladies' purses, but it was something else when I realized that men also carry their own bags. For the most part, there's nothing feminine about it and it seems to be purely for convenience. Even the burliest of burliest 'gopniks' (to be explained in a future post) can be seen wearing a man purse. These man purses vary in sizes and can be anything between a large messenger bag to a fanny pack (yes) to a camera case-sized bag.

3. Dyed hair- Hair dying is an international trend, but the trend I witness is slightly different than in the US and closer to the one I saw while in South America. Colors are a bit more...pronounced. Black is blacker than night, red is like the red in a rainbow, blonde is beyond-bleached platinum, and gray tends to end up like lavender (seriously).

4. Straight, dense bangs (or 'fringe' if you've chosen to learn British English)- Trends usually become trends because they are stylish and cute. Then a few too many people follow the trend and it loses its charm. Most common here is blacker than black hair with a very, very dense and straight bang. It's cute in a helmet way.

5. Ankle sandals- I tend to agree with footwear that you can run in 'just incase.' So do many women in Russia. Of course, these sandals come in various heel lengths from paper-thin flat to skyscraper high.

It's so hard to keep up with US trends while I'm abroad and I have no idea what to listen to or what to watch. A few months away does that to you, I guess. The good news is that I'm coming home in one and a half weeks. The bad news is that the blog posts will soon end. Look out, America, mama's coming home!!!!