Week 10 in Russia: Freshwater Seals and Catholic Easter

This Saturday, I went to a museum on Lake Baikal with my roommate, Hannah, and a course assistant of one of my professors, Yulya. We occasionally go on excursions to see old factories, museums, and the like, and this time I asked if my roomie could tag along. So, the three of us headed to Listvianka to get our first glance at two nerpa seals--the only species of freshwater seal on the planet, endemic to Lake Baikal.

When we entered the museum, the cashier explained that we had to pay to take pictures. When my roommate asked what that meant, I foolishly answered her in English. Hearing this, the cashier charged us a higher price for "foreigners." (Yes, at the cashier's desk two prices were written: one for citizens of the RF and one for foreigners). Lame. I shouldn't have opened my mouth. So we paid an extra 100 rubles (about $3), and then went to stare at the nerpas for about a half hour. They were so cute! I ended up taking pictures anyway, even though I didn't pay the fee (well, actually, I did, because the fee was 100 rubles--the difference between the ticket prices!):

(Yulya and a nerpa/Native Baikal shrimp species/Nerpa)

The museum had both an aquarium exhibit and an upper level exhibit with more information about the ecology of Lake Baikal. Below is a picture of a giant sturgeon from the upper-level exhibit. I should have placed something there for scale, but it's about the length of my leg. That's a lot of caviar.

After the museum, we walked further into Listvianka. It was a beautiful day, and the ice on the lake is half melted. I really enjoyed seeing Listvianka again (this was my third time here, the first was to walk on the ice in February, the second was the finish line for the ice marathon in March). It's neat to watch it change with the seasons.

(Broken slabs of ice on the shore/broken ice on the surface of the Lake/the melted part of the Lake)

Once we got into Listvianka-proper, Hannah and Yulya bought Omul' (a native species of fish to Lake Baikal--that we had just seen in the aquarium!) and some beer. I bought a cabbage piroshkii and joined them on the shore. (I also tried a little of the fish...if I liked fish, I'm sure it would have been the best fish I had ever tasted...)

(Relaxing on the shore)

On Sunday, I celebrated Catholic Easter, which happens to fall a week earlier than Russian Orthodox Easter. My friend Sasha had never made kulich or piroshki, two dishes that I was planning to make for Easter, so I invited him over. Together, we made piroshki with hard-boiled egg and rice or cabbage and onion, and two kulichi (Russian Easter bread). Hannah helped us decorate eggs and fill piroshki, noting that the piroshki looked like little fat nerpa seals. :-) Then we played a traditional Russian game where you each grab an egg and then try to crack another person's egg without breaking your own. In typical Osecki family fashion, we had mimosas with our Easter brunch. Might I also add that the bottle of champagne was $4? And good? ;-)

Hannah took some really nice photographs, so the following are courtesy of her:

(Top to bottom, left to right: Sasha; Kulich and Champagne; Me with all things Easter; Our beautiful eggs)

We had a really nice time together, and I felt right at home. Sasha said he never would have imagined baking kulich and celebrating Easter a week early in a dormitory with two American girls, but I think he enjoyed himself as well. When I called home later that evening, I had him talk to my Babushka for a little bit in Russian. It was strange to not be at home for Easter, but I had a great time celebrating with Sasha and Hannah. And who knows..I might celebrate Easter again this Sunday!

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Week 9 in Russia: Driving Cars and Riding Horses

Wow, I'm getting later and later with these things...прости меня (Forgive me) :)

Last week, week 9, was marked by two exciting events, as the title of this entry hints.

On Wednesday last week, I was in my friend Sasha's car and we were having an ongoing argument about who are worse drivers: women or men. Sasha was convinced that women were worse, but I am convinced by the American study that women are, on average, safer drivers. (Statistically, men take more risks that could lead to accidents). I decided to tell Sasha that maybe in Russia women are worse drivers, but in America, they're better. I probably should have never opened my mouth, because then he pulled over, got out of the car, and told me to drive. Uh... I don't have a Russian drivers' license, I've never driven a car with the steering wheel on the right, people get stopped by the police all the time here--there were 100 reasons not to take the wheel. But, of course, when in Russia...

So I drove Sasha's car for about ten minutes, including driving down the busiest street in downtown Irkutsk. Mind you, there are no lanes. There are buses, trolleybuses, and pedestrians everywhere. The main goal is the zig-zag around these obstacles while trying not to crash into the cars that are also zig-zagging around the same obstacles. Needless to say, I was frightened, the entire time muttering minor curses under my breath at Sasha, but when I finally parallel parked the car and got out--I was ecstatic. I drove a car with the steering wheel on the right hand side for the first time down the busiest street in Irkutsk and survived! I took a video of Sasha driving down that same street, so that you can get an idea of what it was like. Excuse the loud noise from the wind, I was holding my camera out the window. (I wasn't thinking before to have Sasha take a video of me driving the car, and since I was so lucky the first time, I didn't really want to tempt fate by trying again..):


(At one point, Sasha asks if I'm taking a video or pictures, when I answer, he asks if he will be in the video. When the camera turns to him, he says: "Hey, guys, look: Here, Elizabeth drove a car, in Russia. Imagine! ..She broke the law." And the lyrics in the background are "Forgive me, forgive.")

On Saturday morning, Sasha and I went for a run on the banks of the Angara. I hadn't done this since February, when Martijn and I were training for the Baikal Ice Marathon. What a big difference in April--it was gorgeous outside and there were many other runners. I came back here to shower and get some work done before running errands. When I was out running errands, Sasha called and asked what I was doing for the rest of the day. "Nothing, really." "Okay," he said, "I'll be over in 25 minutes."

So, 25 minutes later he comes by, sees that I'm wearing a skirt and high heels and tells me to go change into something "sporty" and that he has a surprise for me. Are we going running again?, I wondered. Well, no, in fact, we were going horseback riding. I haven't been on a horse since I was a girl scout. I remember being on a black horse that took off galloping with me on it. I never wanted to go horseback riding ever again. Well, here I was, at a hippodrome in Siberia, with a friend who probably went through a lot of trouble to arrange a horseback riding lesson. Okay, I thought, I can do this. Just get on the horse, Elizabeth.

I ended up having a great time. I learned how to properly sit on the horse, how to steer, how to go faster, and how to turn. The trainer was very nice to explain all the equestrian terminology very slowly, and offered regular lessons on Fridays. Sasha is definitely taking her up on this--he used to ride horses at his grandmother's and he was itching to ride the entire time I was having my lesson. I've got to admit, that once I got over my fear, I really enjoyed it. I'm trying new things here--new, and sometimes dangerous, but always worth it.

Below are some pictures that Sasha took while I was learning to ride:

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Back in Action

Turns out getting back to class can kill a vacation high really really fast - all it took was two hours of MSA. I'd better record it before it's completely gone.

I flew with my friend Laura to Ouarzazate, a town just south of the Atlas mountains. We landed at night and it was a very windy 9 degrees Celsius. Ouarzazate is a Tamazight (Berber) name that means "without noise" - and so it is. It's a sleepy, beautiful town with gorgeous views of the mountains as a backdrop. We explored the kasbah, which is made of mud and straw with reed ceilings - it made me think of the pseudo-mazes in party spaces for young kids, except it was truly labyrinthine. We picked up a very nice but nevertheless false guide, who led us to his friend's store after our tour to look at lots and lots of beautiful jewelry. He also dressed me and Laura in all sorts of Touareg and Berber costumes - pictures forthcoming! We also visited the movie studios just outside of Ouarzazate, where the highlight for me was The Mummy set - maybe you've heard me gush about this super campy movie, maybe I've managed to keep it under wraps... I have a Rachel Weisz weakness, what can I say?

We took a day trip out of Ouarzazate further south into the Draa Valley, an endless palm oasis full of towns built like the kasbah. After about four hours of driving we hit the Merzouga dunes - not quite the Sahara - but we stopped there for a short camel ride. Camels are very funny, with squishy feet and long eyelashes. I did a report in 9th grade on Knut Schmidt-Neilsen, a biologist who figured out why/how camels and sea birds never have to drink, and he's right, the camel's nose is pretty amazing.

We moved on to Agadir after a couple of days, a beautiful, clean beach town. Spent a few days in the sun and eating delicious fresh fish, grilled as well as fried, at the local stands by the harbor.

The south stood out for two reasons: One, an excess of beautiful things. Jewelry, pottery, carpets, rose products. Two, the nice Moroccans live there. For example, Rabat's salespeople are aggressive, and indignant when you aren't interested. In Ouarzazate and Agadir they actually let you browse if you want to browse, and they invite you home for tea whether or not you buy anything. That bit seemed sketchy to me at first, but the more people asked the more I realized it's a legitimate thing to do. New Yorker instinct says nice people are always bad news.

In the south they never get tired of saying "Li zirbu, matu" - in English, "those who hurry are already dead." And they live that out, which is how sitting down to tea can take two hours. I have a feeling the rest of my semester will be, in Berber terms, pretty dead.

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