Zombie

Back from the dead! Or the gloriously alive, as it were. The weather has been absolutely perfect for the past few days and I can’t stop strolling and eating ice cream (stands literally on every block, men women and children consuming at all hours--this is my kind of place) long enough to blog.

Little park where I go running. That's the actual color of the sky. 

A church on Malaya Dmitrovka being reeeeally pretty.

I’ve spent the last week at Schukin in movement classes, watching more productions, looking in on the Russians’ classes and exams and, at long last, starting Russian language lessons. I’ve gotten a private tutor at the Russian State University for Arts and Humanities (RGGU). She’s very nice and patient with me. I figure that while I’m still trying to prepare for my interviews, do research, and figure out the damn IRB approval (which must be done by post, but much mail that leaves Moscow never makes it to its destination [I lovingly recall the story of Jaki sending a postcard from Bulgaria in July that arrived in North Carolina no earlier than November]), I might as well try to pick up a bit more language so I can navigate a little better. I’m sort of frustrated with myself over how long it’s taking me to get revved up for this component of research—it might not happen until I return to the states—but I’ve got my fingers crossed that I can work it out. It’s also unbelievably difficult to find English-language texts. I need to be learning more about Meyerhold, Vakhtangov, Stanislavski, et cetera, and J.Stor only goes so far. I forget that wonderful, free public and university libraries are a luxury, not a given. That and toilet paper (also scarily scarce).

On the topic of home, one of the most surprising things to me has been the Russian reception of me as a resident of the American south. Most people have no idea where North Carolina is. Which is understandable and fine. The only two places in Russia I could place on a map are Moscow and St. Petersburg; I could probably gesture to Siberia, too, but that’s not exactly a needle in a haystack. But when I explain where it is, what UNC is, and so forth, the most frequent question I get is “are there a lot of racists/ do you know a lot of African Americans/did your grandparents have slaves/ do you live on a plantation?” It sort of blows my mind. Though the percentage of persons of African descent is very low in this city, the fascination coupled with ignorance is substantial. What, as Americans, are we doing to give off the vibe that slavery ended six weeks ago? Am I naïve in thinking we project racial tolerance, or have it at all? I expected to get from the Russians the same negative associations of the south that Americans from other places hold, but could never have anticipated what I got. As someone new to travel, I don’t really know if this happens to southerners often. Is it something we’re doing wrong? Do we need activism or just patience?

Anyway, more soon. Please, please don’t hesitate to call my cell phone (the number’s 8-926-012-33-74; remember, Moscow is 8 hours ahead of EST) or email me at elizphil@email.unc.edu. I love hearing from home and from my fellow travelers.

Answer to Blog Bowl #1: Pigeon fluff! I don’t know what’s up with the Muscovite pigeons. Maybe they are extraordinarily downy from such long and cold winters and just now shedding as it’s warming up, but their little white floaties are ubiquitous, though the pigeons themselves are not so easily spotted. Winner: Monica Byrne for “nuclear fallout.”

Blog Bowl #2: What is the singlemost overpriced (/“valuable”) item in your typical corner grocery store? Hint: not caviar and definitely not vodka. Ice cream, FYI, is about US75¢.