Why do you do this to me, Russia? Why do you tease me with a few sunny, clear days hovering around 0 degrees (if not even creeping up a bit!), then abruptly fall back into Hardcore Winter Mode? The sidewalk was almost DRY a week ago! Now it's rained or snowed (however lightly) pretty much constantly the past three days, and the sidewalks are all a mess of slush and miscellaneous street-goo. It's hard to judge how solid the dirty slush-pile before me on the sidewalk is; good thing I'm still basically used to walking with my head down and eyes fixed firmly on the ground in front of me. I know it's not doing my posture any favors, but it certainly helps when navigating icy, sludgy pathways.
One thing I've noticed, the few times I've left the house this week, is how many shades of gray there are in the snow on the sidewalk. The untrodden snow off to the side, between stoops where no one walks, that is pure white. As you move closer to the street, the snow quickly mixes with exhaust and miscellaneous dirt to create a gross, slate-gray slurry that coats the sidewalks. After enough people have walked on it, it's hard to even remember what color the bricks or tiles or flagstones are under the gray slush; everything is coated in a uniform layer of gray goo. It's also hard to see the patches of ice, and on certain sidewalks the slush itself can get really slippery. I've only ever actually fallen once, although I've slipped countless times. I've only seen a Russian slip once, and she handled it expertly, almost as if she intended to slide across the ice patch. Maybe they just recover more quickly than I do, being more used to navigating such environments.
I'm definitely going to buy a new pair of shoes at some point while I'm here. There are a ton of shoe stores around; I'm just not sure how expensive they are or whether I'll be able to find flat ankle boots or something similar. I can't wear my heeled boots every day; the red-and-white Converse I brought are hard to wear with two pairs of socks; and my white and green sneakers are like two huge neon signs attached to my feet that read AMERICAN. They are comfortable, even in multiple socks, though; and they're holding up surprisingly well under these conditions. My socks stayed dry, even wading through slush, until the last ten minutes or so of the walk home yesterday, because I misstepped a couple of times and plunged my foot into a solid-looking pile of gray-brown muck. I like to pretend that white sneakers are my only tell; it absolutely isn't, but it's definitely among the most conspicuous.
We're in the thick of the holiday season, as it were, now; it's Holy Week, but besides that, this week contains plenty of other holidays. Monday was President's Day; Tuesday was Pancake Day; today was Men's Day/Defenders of the Fatherland Day, and tomorrow is my grandma's birthday! Happy birthday Mamaw :) Also Good Friday, but I think the first one is more important.
This morning Corinne made blini for everyone, and even went out and got toppings; we had sweetened condensed milk (which came in a pouch like this! Food packaged like this is not out of the ordinary for Russia, though; you can find ketchup, mustard, mayo, and cheese sauce in similar packaging), apricot jam, butter, sour cream, honey, and muesli, although no one really went for the muesli (granola cereal). Liz tried it but she was the only one. With a bit more of a coordinated effort we could have had an even grander smorgasbord of toppings; other popular choices here include cream cheese, salmon, caviar, boiled eggs, and mushrooms. Being a breakfast (even if it was at 1:30 in the afternoon, because my roommates waited for me to wake up), we stuck to mostly sweet toppings instead of savory. Jorge had a Russian friend over at the time and he said the blini were perfect, and didn't believe it was Corinne's first time making them because they turned out so good.
Later, Jorge and his friend, along with Liz and Corinne, went out to see the festivities for Defenders of the Fatherland Day; I declined to go with, because I don't like navigating the slippery, slushy sidewalks. Alexandra reported that it took three times as long to get from the metro to the apartment this morning on her way home (she'd gone out with friends to a hockey game the previous night), due to the slush.
I know I need to get out and do stuff but mehhh, I don't waaaanna. I do feel better, though; no more sore throat or anything. I think it may have been an allergic reaction to the vitamin D supplement I picked up, because I didn't start feeling bad until I started taking it, and I stopped taking it and got better; I'm going to look and see if I can find a gelcap supplement instead of the gross chalky tablets that I got. They don't even dissolve in hot water; I tried dissolving one in some tea, because it's this huge nickel-sized chalky pellet of minty grossness that I hate chewing, and the tablet will break up into particles but the particles will fall out of solution and settle in the bottom of the mug. Ick. It's probably not good to suddenly stop taking a relatively large dose of a vitamin D supplement, but I feel OK; I also felt OK when my endocrinologist told me I had a severe vitamin D deficiency, though, so I guess in the worst-case scenario, I get to start hyper-dosing myself with the stuff when I get back home again. Hopefully I'll find a better supplement here. There are aptekas all over the place; one of them is sure to have something.
At some point this evening I need to sit down and pen another journal entry for this culture class; I'm going to go over the prompts we have again and see if I know enough about any of them to produce something that will meet the minimum requirements. I have no motivation to do anything of the sort, but I know I have to. Siiiigh. The next several days will be quite busy; I have my regular language class tomorrow, plus a rescheduled culture class to discuss a short story we had to read right after it, plus the second excursion to the Russian museum on Saturday, plus something Maslenitsa-related on Sunday, and I think my roommates want to go out somewhere over the weekend too. And a partridge in a pear tree.
No comments:
Post a Comment