I заболела (fell ill) for the second time this weekend. Reason a: staying up too late. I live half an hour away from the nearest metro station, which means it takes quite a while to get home from hangings out with other study abroad kids. Kind of unfortunate, but I wouldn’t trade a more convenient location of residence for a different host family. Reason b: In the words of my host sister Tonya, “Мы не боимся микробов здесь” (we’re not afraid of germs here.) Moscow may be the dirtiest city I’ve ever been in. Okay yes, that’s a definite. Filth. Everyone and their собака (dog) smokes here, so cigarette smoke probably constitutes more of the air than oxygen and whatever else human beings are supposed to breathe. I basically feel like I’ve smoked at least a pack by the time I get home. And... you’re lucky to find a public restroom with actual soap in it, instead of a nasty bar of nastiness that has been sitting in a little dish of everyone’s germs for who knows how long. I have to mentally remove myself from my body every time I wash my hands with it. Iiiiiiiiick. (That’s an uppercase “I,” not an “L,” which I clarify in case your eyes naturally read the verb which would be entirely inappropriate here.) In any case, I’ve realized it’s probably a good thing for me to be forced to overcome my OCD abhorrence of germs, at least to an extent. People somehow go on with their lives here, even despite the shocking lack of satin – er, sanitary precautions. Actually, my obviously weak immune system could easily be a result of the American obsession with being 99.9% antibacterial.
Anyway, I have the best host family anyone could possibly have, ever. Two daughters around my age (Nastya, short for Anastasia, and Tonya, short for Antonia), and a 17-year-old son (Sasha, short for Aleksandr) who is darling. And parents (Lena and Sasha) who have taken me into their home and family as another daughter. In fact, around two weeks after I arrived, my хозяйка (landlady/hostess, though I prefer “host mom” -- already introduced to you as Lena) exclaimed, “Our fourth daughter!” one day when I came home. (They have another daughter, Anna, who lives in another city.) Then just a few days ago, Lena told me that they would always think of me as their American daughter. That just about melted my heart. I was amazed by how quickly Lena was willing to show me affection. After probably a week or so, after giving goodnight kisses to her girls, she gave me one as well. Nastya then said in her cute broken English, “My mom loves children, and sometimes I think she wishes she could have all children as her own.” That was very evident in the way she treated me.
Now for some фотографии.
A typical breakfast. The yellow bizness is пшеничная каша (pshenichnaya kasha), one of many types of porridge, which is basically обязательно (... obligatory? Oh. Prolly essential.) for breakfast. This one is made from wheat, while there is also овсяная (oatmeal); манная (semolina) -- basically Cream of Wheat and one of my favorites; рисовая (rice) -- like rice pudding, my other favorite. Also a daily breakfast staple is бутерброд (buterbrod, from a German word that tells a story about butter and bread), which is like an open-faced sandwich with cheese and usually some kind of meat or fish, and of course butter. You can’t just have bread with things on top; you need butter as well. I was appalled when I learned that Germans put butter on their bread in addition to Nutella, but it turns out butter is also a fairly essential companion to bread in Russia. I’m pretty sure there is a good deal of oil and/or butter (same word in Russian, weird) in most of what I eat at home here, but study abroad friends assure me that the oil they use in Russia is “good oil.” Maybe that means it doesn’t contain as many calories? Fantastic.
“Хочу шоколад, мноооооого шоколада.” (I want chocolate, loooooooots of chocolate.) I love this family.
More to come soon!
No comments:
Post a Comment