To be in St. Petersburg is to tip-toe around the edges of a porcelain a faberge egg. There is something fragile, delicate, gilded about every memory I hold of my city. There is something romantic about its crooked and uneven pavements,…
Homecoming
I never got around to publishing this last week. I’m working on something about my time in St. Petersburg now, but my feelings are so different from what I wrote last week that I feel this needs to be published…
Things I'll miss about Russia and things I've missed about Shanghai
Not having to confront my mortality every time I cross the street..
So you're taking your American boyfriend to meet your Russian grandmother
You will cut down an apple tree. You will saw apple wood for barbecue, eat the barbecue chicken straight off the skewer outside, and drink vodka for lunch because it fits the occasion. D is with me visiting my grandparents…
Home-Coming
The first few hours in Russia are always unbearable, brutal. I’m accosted by the smells of male sweat masked by deodorant, smoked meats, and the sweet-acidity of the metro that hits you as soon as you enter the station and descend 60…
Why I’m changing my blog name
In 2007, my dad and I legally changed our last names to my mom’s maiden name. We did this for a few reasons: My old last name was utterly unpronounceable – 12 letters long and about 2/3 of them consonants…
What it's like to live in Russia
I’ve written about What it’s like to live in China. I’ve also written about The overwhelming devastation of getting Russia. Now, it’s my turn to (try to) figure out what life is like in Russia. —————————————————- The Moscow I remember…
The charm of Moscow in November
Uncoordinated. That’s the only way to describe my 10-hour flight from Shanghai to Moscow. Over the course of ten hours, I spilled water on myself (twice). Most of my (gluten-free) biscuit ended up on my blanket. My slippers (which Aeroflot gives…
the overwhelming devastation of 'getting' Russia
I think I’m finally beginning to get Russia. This entire time here, I’ve had such a hard time connecting with people. The people on the street, in the bazaar stalls, my relatives, they have all grown up in such a…
my struggle with the Russian table
In the past twenty-four hours, I have been chased by a pack of wild dogs, helped slaughter a cow, stood knee-deep in said cow’s intestines, peed in public (twice), and climbed over a ten-foot fence at 2 o’clock in the…
Gangs of grannies and my other adventures in the motherland
I’ve been in Russia for less than half an hour and I’ve already seen at least three kids with mullets. I’ve already been yelled at by an airport official (you can’t look at my passport and tell me it’s not mine just…
my first hours in Russia, or how I stopped worrying and learned to love the bomb
Reprinted from 24-8-11 and my first blog. Coming into Russia, one feels the overwhelming smell of pickled fish, cigarettes, and sweat. The passport control officer sizes you down without as much as a “Have a nice day! (insert smile here)”…