Thursday August 26, 2010

I have somehow managed to arrive in Moscow safely and soundly. By some miracle (be it God or otherwise, and I tend to skew towards “otherwise”) I navigated through the airport, was one of the first people to receive her luggage, negotiated my way into a van ride (which would have been harrowing had I not known what European driving entails), completed a shitload of documents (most of whose purpose I am completely unaware), purchased dinner (comprising of drinkable Activia, half of an apple and 5 liters of water) and sort of settled into my dorm room (which, while obviously not shiny and new, is incredibly cozy and perfect – it has a freaking sink and so much storage space!). On the list of things I have yet to do is figure out how the hell I am supposed to charge my laptop (because for whatever reason my adapters are clearly not up for the job) and get eight 3x4 MATTE (emphasized about a squillion times to myself and about ten other people) photographs so that I can have a real-life honest to goodness ID for school. And, you know, probably a lot more things that I can’t even begin to imagine.

My plane ride was absurdly comfortable. The girl sitting next to me was Russian, and when I got back from going to the bathroom at 3 AM she asked me why I was going to Russia and I had a hard time explaining why. I should mention that we were speaking in English because it adds to the ridiculousness of my inability to engage in ANY form of communication with someone today.

I think my favorite part of the day, however, was the ride from the airport to the school. It took about an hour and the guy who was driving the van was insanely ballsy. We drove from the outskirts of the city to the center and it was astonishing how stark the transition from suburban to urban was. Billboards multiplied, people became visibly affluent, globally-themed restaurants popped up, increasing exponentially, drivers became far more aggressive, and the diversity of architecture exponentially increased. The oft-discussed juxtaposition of Old and New Moscow was every bit as obvious and beautiful as described. It’s amazing to me that I’m a block or two away from Red Square and just a stones throw away from St Basil’s because I couldn’t see either from the drive.

The better part of my day was spent in complete linguistic solitude. Except for Ike, and when I ran into some other Beloit students, I was cocooned in the white noise of a foreign tongue. Sometimes it was frustrating, like when the director of international students was trying to explain some task I had to complete and I could not for the life of me comprehend her. For the most part, though, it was simultaneously comforting and thrilling. It makes me excited for the days later on in the semester when I will have a better understanding of the world around me.

Anyway, I keep trying to write more (and believe me, I have tons to say) but the city sounds and my jet lag are making it damn near impossible. It’s like a lullaby except way more effective, like if a sleeping pill existed that caused really soothing lullabies to play in your head and your tummy to feel like it is full of warm sleepy-time milk.