InterUniversity Centre Canada

What are my first impressions of Moscow?? A few things come to mind instantly: hot dogs with mayonnaise, people playing soccer in the snow everyday, crazy Russian television shows (like the extremely graphic police show Dorozhny Patrol), beautiful girls everywhere, and tremendous amounts of vodka being consumed at every turn.

Many things make me sick, though. No, I don't mean crime, politics or the economy. I mean literally sick. I've got an odd personality characteristic that makes me -forces me- to look death in the eye far too often. Each day I consume at least one partially cooked hot dog with questionable mayonnaise, excessive amounts of Vietnamese 'Mr. Noodle' clones, and I have also started drinking unfiltered,, unboiled Moscow tap water. Buying milk here isn't in my best interest, because I think that it's easier to drink odd-smelling milk and have a stomach ache that night, then to walk to the store to buy more. Since that first day I took Aeroflot to Moscow, I knew I had to live life on the edge.

Seriously, coming here was the best thing that I've ever done. I feel very independent now and I am learning a lot. School is hard, but not frustrating, my room is comfortable, and our group leader, Doug, is always available to help us and show us around town. I can't believe that I went through 3.5 years at university in Canada doing the same old thing when I could have been here, having the time of my life.

Russia would be a lot better if it had robots.

-Dave Homenuk, W00 Moscow

Being one of the only people in our group to have never really been anywhere or lived away from home, this trip had been looming in my mind for quite some time. Though I had planned it for a long while, it still seemed that January 9th, our trip departure date would never come. But as January 9th slowly crept up on me, my disbelieving excitement grew. But the trip still didn't seem real. Even as I was driving to the airport and flying in a plane. Even as I was waiting and extra day in Prague for my forgotten Russian visa to arrive, it wasn't real. After flying and walking through Prague, I was sure that I would be going back to Canada soon. But finally, I was on the Prague to Moscow flight. Then giving my passport to the incredibly congenial female customs officer. Then I was driving from the airport into Moscow with two Russian drivers who professor Eidlin had sent. Both Russians wore huge coats and the driver wore a fur hat that touched the roof of our beat up 4 speed Lada. The lights of the city illuminated giant Soviet era apartment blocks while billboard after billboard proclaimed their advertisements in cyrillic scripts. Towering Russian government buildings slid passed my eyes while the multi-colored spires of churches beckoned from the background. I think I finally realized where I was when the driver turned back to me and said "teuh vmoskve".

-John Studiman, W00, Moscow

Moscow, You're Not as Tough as You Think (an open letter to the city of Moscow)
Dear Moscow:

You're not as tough as you think. Sure you scared the pants off me when I first arrived, with your giant sinister skyscrapers; but now I live in one, and the walls are actually painted pink. Granted, you melted my alarm clock with your voltage and damaged my suitcase with your Aeroflot; but I had a spare (battery-operated) clock and my luggage can be repaired. Moscow, your crowds are huge and full of elbows, odors and sweat; but I've survived three and could (probably) face more. Yes, it's true that your temperatures can be a touch on the low side; but I've got two pairs of mittens and a lump of coal in my belly. Moscow, you think you're so tough because your police are corrupt and your babuskas (babushki?) are pushy; but your students are generous and more kind than any I've met before. Moscow, you may be covered in neon signs advertising excess in all forms; but the buildings behind, beneath and beside these billboards are beautiful, old and revealing. Sure, you had me confused with your backwards N's that can be U's that sound like E's; but I know that know and you're not so cryptic after all. Moscow, I like you. I'm still a little afraid of you, your changes and your otherness, but you're still the most interesting, strange, exciting and overwhelming place I've ever been. Oh, and Moscow? I love your metro.

Having spent going on 2 weeks now in fair Moscow, it's certainly become obvious that Moscow is a city remarkably similar to your average Canadian or American metropolis...and then somehow importantly NOT.

As with so many things, the differences are in the details. For example, Canadian and American cities have traffic signals. So does Moscow...however in Moscow they are mostly decorative and are generally considered unnecessary impediments to the free flow of pedestrians and vehicles. Also, Muscovites enjoy quality television programming akin to the North American variety: can we say 'COPS'? However, Muscovites are free from some of our more delicate sensibilities and graphic displays of big, bloated, pale bellied, purple faced victims of crime seem to be the norm. (Interestingly enough, many of these are traffic fatalities? see above.)

As in any city that is a major attraction for tourists, souvenir vendors are well-mannered and unobtrusive. Uncommonly, however, they are not ruled by the profit principle. As I was impressed to find out, a Moscow souvenir vendor may forego the opportunity to make a ruble for the purposes of making fun of your geeky Canadian accent. (This is the school-of-hard-knocks version of language learning courses at MGU.)

These being only a few of the more notable differences between Moscow life and "normal" life (so far), I can't say that any cultural or lifestyle differences have been too difficult to cope with: even the biggest challenges are just too high in entertainment value to be wholly negative experiences. The most recent "challenging" events have been getting cleared out of a dance club by means of tear gas (it seemed a bit excessive at the time, but I guess you use what you have) and avoiding the super speedster killer snow clearing machines while attempting a jog (and while attempting to cross streets, and while attempting to walk peaceably on sidewalks...). Maybe you see what I mean.

Without a doubt, the next few months promise to be worthwhile. In fact, our intrepid InterUniversity Centre Canada team is already part way to accomplishing one of its primary goals, namely to bring the game of hackey sack to the deprived Russian masses. Unfortunately, Team Leader Doug introduced it to our first converts as "hackey-sackey", which sounds kind of cutesy and may prevent it from getting the respect it deserves. We will have to work on that.

Mary Korica, F00, Moscow

"My First Impressions of Russia"

We left on a trip of a lifetime last week arrived in Moscow on Monday the 11th of January. It was my first time away from home. Culture shock hit me harder than I had expected but I was awed by a city so magnificent and the culture so rich. I could write a book on my first week in Russia, but I will condense it into a few paragraphs. In my first week in Russia, never would I have imagined that I would visit McDonalds 4 times. Never would I have imagined that I would survive on one meal a day and that water for breakfast and eating half a loaf of bread would be considered cool. Never would I have imagined PASSPORTS... Well don't leave home without it. Never would I ever imagined that I would be walking down the streets and not be able to read anything. On the roads, never would I ever have imagined that pedestrians bow to the drivers. Never would I have imagined that washing machines are a privileged commodity and that we will be washing clothes by hand. Never had I imagined that microwaves were also scarce. And if I craved to eat something, I have to walk to the market and make it from scratch. Never had I imagined that my window sill would become a refrigerator. And the list goes on. Moscow is also a city bearing many of the world's most beautiful architecture. Never would I have imagined that a country such as Russia, suffering from severe economic crisis would have so well kept buildings. I find their subway system very efficient and relatively clean. Finally, never would I have imagined that I am living in a place that has supposedly has harsh winters only to arrive and find out that it is gorgeous out, and the folks back home are buried deep in snow. I am very excited to learn the language known as "rooski" and explore this culture very rich in history.

-Zara Nathoo, W99, F99 Group leader, Moscow

"1st Impressions"

Upon arriving in any new city, there is always much to be accustomed to. There is the euphoria of finally reaching your destination, hoping that all your planning works out and that nothing was forgotten at home during last minute packing. At first, it was difficult to believe that I was now in Moscow, capital of the largest country in the world, and a city filled with history. Events that took place here have shaped the world as we know it and have, in one way or another, touched all of our lives. Before we left Canada, we had all been to several meetings and get-togethers, where former students shared their experiences with us. We heard all about Moscow State University. So after a brief layover in Prague -one of the most beautiful cities I've ever seen- we reached our destination: Moscow. Out first couple of weeks here involve an orientation designed to show us some of the major sites and activities, but also to give us independence. We have been on the metro, to the markets and the medical faculties (hopefully for the last time!) But also a ballet and the Kremlin. For someone who spent half of his life in the military and army cadets, this was certainly not how I would have imagined getting to Red Square 5 years ago! I do not want to dwell on the negative aspects of this country as you can read about them in any newspaper, for this is also a beautiful country., rich in cultural activities, spectacular architecture and lively markets. As westerners, we will not really be affected by many of the problems such as those facing the average Russian, although we should not disregard them. This is a city where tickets to the world famous Bolshoy Theatre cost a mere 10 dollars, there are spectacular ballets and classical music concerts almost every night, hockey games and more. This week we will continue our orientation, begin our classes and have more opportunities to make many new friends.

Doug Grier, W99, S99, F99, Moscow

"Baltika, Vodka and Smack"

Get up you lazy Canadian! Welcome to Moscow. I really wish I could have some coffee, so I'll have to buy a coil heater (to boil water in a mug) for these mornings. My room is not cold like I thought it would be, but the floor is cool on the feet. What's a ruble worth? Oh well, I'll just put a wad in my pocket and make do. Come on suite Commander Fry, time to go. Through the revolving doors, which seem to be in abundance here in Moscow, and out into the white, icy ground. Should have put on my long johns like my mum said. Oh well, too late now. I wonder if Russians wear long johns? I guess this is why there are so many fur coats walking around. Even I will have to pick up one of those extensive fur hats. WHOA! Almost got hit by a car. Skoda, Lada, Niva... what? Is that a car? Thanks for saving my life Kelvin. Yellow really does mean "go faster". Markets, vendors, weird smells, thick vapors rising from the sewers, frozen fish gaping at me and slabs of meat beckoning me. Hot dog it is. Lots of fruit! Cheap too! Or at least I could buy a lot with these rubles in my pocket. Any coil heaters? Not here. This metro, subway system is huge. The escalators never seem to stop going down. No wonder the underground served as a bomb shelter in WW2. It feels like I'm back in the 1940's, with lots of shades of brown and black, trench coats, smoking pretty much anywhere and hey, that man is drinking vodka in this subway car. Those doors sure close quickly, up the escalator and wow! Red Square, the Kremlin...I guess Boris Yeltsin isn't around. Hey! There are coils in this market for 25 cents. ( how many rubles is that?) Not too bad. Goodnight. First Russian class is today, hmmm. I'll get that water boiling...tzzz!! Oh damn! Cursed coil shorted. See you soon.

OUR JOURNEY TO MOSCOW: (please note: before reading, place tongue firmly in cheek and laugh! We can now!)

Oh, the exciting world of air travel! Anyway, our adventure in Moscow began at Pearson International. Winnipeg International for Maria and I. The real adventure began with trying to find a group of people we had ever met at a very busy airport! No problem! That being done, we set off, bound for our exotic destination however, the pilot felt it important that a mechanical error be fixed first. So, we sat and sat and sat. Two hours later, we finally took off, Amsterdam bound! One more hop, and we would be in Moscow! Except, we missed our connecting flight. Where to now? Beautiful Warsaw Poland? On Lot Airlines?! Why not!! I must admit to having some serious reservations about flying Lot (previously given the nick name of Lots of trouble), however, we arrived both in Warsaw and Moscow safe and sound, despite the meals they tried to serve us. Because of all the flight changing, it seemed as if we were constantly eating these stone rolls, mystery cold cuts and brown mush. We did not realize it at the time, but it should have been a warning about what was to come later, at the dreaded STALOVAYA! (Russian for "cafeteria") At any rate, we survived the flights. Then it was time for Russian customs. The place where we were first introduced to the Russian custom of smoking everywhere! Passports please! Then on to the real test -- filling out the customs forms! X-ray the baggage one last time, and then -finally- Did I forget to mention that Ben lost his bag somewhere between Amsterdam and Moscow?! (he found it later) Oh, by the way, does anyone know who those guys with the submachine guns are? Security? Hopefully? So now, where are the guys who are picking us up? Well, when our ride finally showed up, they took one look at our luggage, and laughed! Why? Why would they do such a thing? Apparently, "lift ne rabotayet" (did I forget to mention that the fellows who picked us up spoke lots of Russian but no English?!) Most of us learned later that this meant that the elevators did not work. Ha ha ha! Some of us took the luggage weight restrictions to heart and actually brought 2 bags almost 70 lbs each! (ED NOTE: Erin lives on the seventh floor). Oh well, let's hope the baggage doesn't fall out of the bus before we arrive, and worry about it later. Driving down Leninsky Prospect at 10:30pm, 6 hours later than our expected arrival time (and all this after 87 hours of travel). The ride turned out to be the scenic route. Our guides did their best to point out the very impressive and very different sites of Moscow. We finally arrived, VERY LATE, VERY TIRED and somewhat shell-shocked. All in all it was an interesting and amusing journey, which I would definitely choose not to repeat!!

Erin Grexton, 97, Moscow

Trajic intrigue and Bee'feclairs

Hmmm, Moscow…I've been here for almost two months and this will be my first entry. I suppose I've been truant in my reportage for a number of reasons. To simply say that 'you've got to see it to believe it' may be little too simple. I've been reluctant to write because the task of including the enormous amount of observations needed to give this city its due justice is intimidating as it is daunting. For those who will roll their eyes at what may seem like a dramatization, I assure you that I am not prone to embellishment and that the following account is a simple attempt to state only what is blaringly apparent. One of Moscow's greatest gifts is that it can be read in so many different ways. Whether you wish to interpret it theatrically, politically, musically, socially, historically, or aesthetically, the volume of interpretive material is more than enough to satiate the most ravenously inquisitive observer. While I predominantly look at Moscow from a political/ideological vantage point To me, the city seems to be cloaked in a political blanket of defeat. With every pensioner seen begging in the Metro I hear Capitalism hiss 'you've lost'. With every press release announcing the abandonment of the Mir space-station, the backwardness of Russia's military forces, or Western apathy to Russian foreign policy, you can feel what was built to be a global force be swept to the sideline of the international arena. The blatant and perverse inequality of citizens makes no mistake in revealing how Capitalist individualism has sent the spectrum of economic sufficiency screaming in both directions. The buildings themselves seem to whisper sorrowfully with the grandeur of their concrete statements. They speak about 'what could have been' and 'only if's'. The potential glory of an idea hangs mournful in the face of the unrelenting, unforgiving, and insatiable force it was designed to oppose. Though far from being previously immune, the collapse of Communism has released the hounds of greed to heal by the feet of the self-interested and tear apart the weak. Russia's way of life has been conquered, not in the traditional manner of militaristic defeat, but in a more subtle and penetrating way. Every Nike or McDonalds ad seems to speak to a new front of invasion. Although this front may seem more altruistic than a front held by force, the weight of its assault is no less overwhelming in Russia's most urban core. Am I certain about what life in Communist Moscow was like?-absolutely not. Does a market driven Moscow bring certain benefits to the citizenry?-of course. The above statement is simply an honest reaction to how Moscow feels to an admitably novice observer. Enough of that for now. Perhaps a little about Moscow in general. In all that Moscow can provide, comfort, security, warmth, and traditional concepts of beauty are not its strengths. What Moscow has to offer is obvious and subtle at the same time. The prominent features are as intriguing and inspiring as those which are more difficult to discern. What is obvious is the diametric nature of all of Moscow's qualities. It is a city of contradiction. Throughout the many extremes that are seen throughout town, none exist without its antithesis nearby. Where shameless wealth exists, absolute destitution has its hand out; where symbols and icons of great power and prestige are seen, a brief look behind the curtain reveals the bankruptcy of a formidable ideal; where the smiles of Western minded locals reassure you, the curses and affronts of nationalists reveal another perspective. It is truly a schizophrenic city with each extreme personality struggling against the other in what seems to be a competition to serve as the prevailing identity. A different sense of intrigue may be sought from that in Moscow which is more banal. Some of the subtle features, which are only now becoming apparent, are the advanced levels of political consciousness and general literary awareness of the people I've met. It seems that every student here, regardless of faculty, has a base of literary knowledge that would put the vast majority of Canadian students (including this one) to shame. Similarly, all Muscovites I've encountered and questioned about politics seem to have a level of international knowledge, and perhaps more importantly, a concern for international events that far exceeds those held by average Canadian's, including many students. It is difficult to develop anything but a sincere respect for how involved Muscovites seem to been in their country and its place in the world. Whether in agreement with their opinions or not, the fact that they hold so many strong views and opinions is worthy of admiration. In all, the interaction between the contradictions which exist among an active and concerned society makes for a chaotic atmosphere which never ceases to amaze. Well, I'm not too sure if this was a journalistic entry as much as a political ramble, but rest assured that a book could be written about the most customary of everyday things here. I'll spare you the book for this week but maybe to sum up I could refer to a recent encounter I've had with a Russian delicacy. Sitting plump and fresh atop the local cafeteria counter was something that I had been missing ever since I left the comfortable familiarity of Tim Hortons. Having not have had a donut for over two months I was particularly excited to purchase and gastronomically explore what looked to be a flaky and seemingly popular version of a Russian donut. It looked to be a donut of the cream filled variety and my anticipation grew in direct proportion to the decreasing size of the line in front of me. Having purchased the donut with a sweet tooth throbbing madly, I bit into the subject expecting my mouth to be filled with the light, sweet, and almost forgotten taste of whipped cream. My hopes were quickly dashed however with the onslaught of a greasy, beefy-onion melange which seems to reappear in all the foods that conceal their contents here. I guess I wanted to mention my introduction to the Russian Bee-feclair as it is rather analogous to many day-to-day experiences which occur in Moscow: Just when you expect sweet cream filling, Moscow hands you beef. On that most eloquent note I'll sign off assuring you that this is a wonderfully intriguing place to be.

Mike Callan - Fall 2000

Russian Culture

Lines. Don't cross the red line at the Russian immigration desk and you'll get a nasty scowl from Colonel Klepp herself. At the Kremlin, cross the white line on the road and you whistled down by a disgruntled guard. I suggest crossing lines if you want comical snapshots of military men for your photo album. Just duck.

Shashleek, battered sturgeon and sweet Georgian wine. Sitting in a little restaurant with mafioso types slapping back vodka is very nice indeed. The gypsy-sounding singers make me want to pickup my plate and smash it on the linoleum, or maybe that's the wine, but either way I won't, because that man is a lot bigger than me.

Did you know that your ears swell when you quit smoking? Yeah. Call me Dumbo and flip a pancake. That's what a Russian friend told me. And do try some Vodka mixed with beer, add some coffee grains and you get Vorschlee.

-Kip Keen, W99, S99, Moscow

Really what is a line? It is nothing but a word to most of us, that expresses closely related definitions such as: a line is something that is straight and not curvy...a line is a bunch of people forming a straight line one behind the other whether it be at a cash register waiting to pay or whether you are standing in line at the registrar's office waiting in line to be sent to another line...a line could be made by traffic at a stop light or in a traffic jam...A line in Russia however just does not seem to be as carefully defined or as easily understood. Sometimes I look around myself when I am standing in a line which I feel never seems to end only to find out that the reason behind it is that about 25 extra people so kindly stepped ahead of me...or is that butting! Sometimes there is this rage that just passes through me when I am in the middle of buying something at the market and some woman just nonchalantly passes right in front of me trying to attempt to take my golden spot in line. When I rarely take a taxi somewhere, I so delicately notice how 3 cars so quaintly attempt fitting into one simple lane. In any case the line is a phenomenon which I will continue to closely exam for the rest of the program. If I ever truly understand what is going on I will be sure to let you know...

-Alina Eidlin, Group Leader W99, Moscow

Well, I feel as though I am finally fitting into Moscow. Every time I am near Red Square I feel like I have to walk around it. Seeing the Kremlin and St. Basil's Cathedral has become such a part of my life, I don't know what it will be like when I can't see it anytime I want to. I love Red Square. Just the feeling of walking around the square, having the crimson cobblestones beneath my feet, watching big flakes of snow fall around me, the air crisp and pure. The tall, red walls of the Kremlin stretch out on my right, and the long store front windows of the GUM department store to my left. Straight ahead, the spires of St. Basil's are lightly dusted in snow. The statues of Minin and Polharzky, Russian Nationalist heroes of the 17th Century, look down on me as I walk towards them. Everything I've read in Russian history comes back to me in a Kaleidoscope of memories, medieval sieges of the Kremlin, Moscow burning down against Napoleon's advance, rows of Soviet tanks rolling passed Soviet leaders atop the Lenin Mausoleum. And there I am, slowly walking through quiet Red Square, as babushkas scurry along the sidewalk carrying their bags, police watch from their parked cars and the Russian flag flutters from atop the Kremlin tower.

In the vast city of Moscow, there are many ways to amuse oneself in the evening. One of Moscow's most famous forms of evening entertainment is the ballet. Our group went to see Shakespeare's Taming of the Shrew. It was lively, colorful and easy to follow. There was even a live orchestra. It was not classical ballet but it was an experience nonetheless. Maria and I were also lucky enough to see "CILPHED", at the world-famous Bolshoi. Here, even the beauty of the building did not overshadow the dancers and their artistry. The magic and grace of the performance made it easy to see why the theatre has such a reputation. Two nights of high culture for less than the cost of a movie in Canada!

-Rebecca Dale, 1997, Moscow

When I set out for Russia I was in search for what scholars and writers for centuries have tried to describe - that special element that has made Russia so unique. Call it the Russian soul, the Russian personality, or a deep interest in the endurance of a people that have been through so much. I believed that somehow I would find an answer to explain "RUSSIA". I've tried to assimilate all that I know of Russian history, literature and language in order to understand Russian attitudes. My first time on the metro, I was in awe. I could not believe that I had actually made it to Russia, land of Vodka and Ideology. Out of the corner of my eye, I studied the lined faces of the older generation. I wondered what they had been through, seen, believed -- both under socialist rule and now. Needless to say, constantly being on the lookout for differences in values, beliefs, even the Russian sense of humor only proved helpful up to a point. So many people before me have wanted to categorize and "explain" Russia. It is a country of contrasts in wealth landscape and people. There are vast array of opinions among the Russians themselves regarding what their country was, is and should be both politically and culturally. As far as the Russian soul is concerned, listening to melancholy Russian folk songs, reading a few verses of Pushkin or Esenin or practicing verbs of motion over chai (tea) will unexpectedly reveal more than hours of romantic philosophizing.

- Melinda Gayda F98, W99, S99, Moscow

When you arrive in Russia, you are greeted by one Fortune-500 ad campaign after along the roads. Staring at the billboards and normal- looking buildings makes you wonder how anyone could be "culture shocked". On the surface everything is the same: a bus is a bus, a cola is a cola. One quickly gets over the obvious differences such as being able to drink beer on the street, in the metro, on the metro you get the point. There is a facade of civilization here in Moscow's physical structures. The perplexing thing is, how can a people now immersed in the 20th century both politically and technologically, be so backward? Moscow is not a big city, it's just a village. It's possible to repeatedly meet the same strangers. It's not customary to be polite and say hello to strangers, but if you can manage it, the recipient will be your best friend immediately - they will welcome you into their family! They overwhelm you with their hospitality, while occasionally having other motives. There is something missing in the cultural translation. That's the interesting paradox. Russia is just like any other country. Its people, however, are from another world. They are trying so hard to be European and really they are just as xenophobic as Americans.

- Peter Kistemaker F97

Learning Russian

Ok, two and a half weeks left to go. Unreal. This semester has just whizzed by. I attribute this to the fact that it's my second time here and coming here with a language base that has built up and improved tremendously, has made it that much easier to appreciate my stay. I used to be nervous to walk into a store to ask for something, and heaven forbid if they ever responded to my request with another question! I would go in there with pre-prepared, rehearsed phrases, memorized to perfection. But whoa, if they were to ask me what it was I wanted on my hot dog, or a response I wasn't ready for, look out, it was panic time. I'm exaggerating, but my point is that I no longer have such hang-ups. Why? Because I understand what they're saying, that's why! I've had almost 6 months of language instruction now, and I by no means claim fluency. But there have been many time I'd catch myself having discussions with Russian friends and halfway through realize that over the course of the conversation not a word of English was spoken. Incredibly, many nights I've even dreamt in Russian. I'm certain that I'm not the only one who has experienced this phenomenon. I'm sad that I will be leaving here right at about the time when my speaking is taking off. The beauty of studying a language abroad, is only 10 percent learning in the classroom. It is the practical and essential application of it in daily life. I've studied the French language for quite a few years now back home, but once I stepped out of that classroom, the shift back to English was imminent, and progress in French was halted. But here, this is what is true immersion. My regret is that I won't be able to experience this kind of learning in Canada, unless I moved into a Russian community. I know that I truly love this language, and fully intend to continue studying, and hopefully master it someday. And maybe, should I ever return here again in the future, I'll dazzle my russki (roll the "r") droozyeh with the Canadian way of speaking Russian (ha ha.)

Kelvin Liu, Asst. Group Leader, W99, Moscow

Russia is Beautiful

I can't believe how good it was to get outside of Moscow. Last week, a group of us decided to leave the comfortable confines of Moscow's slush-ridden streets for the frozen tundra of Vladimir and Suzdal, located about 300 km east of Moscow. I must admit, though, that Suzdal was by far my favorite town. In early Medieval Russia, Suzdal was a powerful principality, before being relegated to the periphery by Moscow. Now it is a little town of only about 12,000 people. We arrived at the Suzdal bus station mid afternoon, stepping out into the gleaming sun and white, white snow. Not to mention the Soviet bus station, conveniently located far from the centre of Suzdal. So we set off, down the icy sidewalks and towards the outskirts of the town. With its twinkling orthodox churches in the distance, we slowly trekked our way through beautiful Russian houses. Their gingerbread windows and doors and many colors glistening in the sun are a welcome relief from the Soviet apartments that fill the outskirts of Moscow. I think that I could have walked through those little cottages the whole afternoon, down the narrow streets and under hanging trees. Their town is dotted with churches, and their black or golden domes topped by shining crosses were constantly in the background as we walked. Across the street from an ancient walled monastery, we found an old schoolhouse where we spent the night for only 25 rubles ($1.75 Can). Aside from my Soviet bed that twice fell apart, I had a very comfortable sleep. The next day we awoke to a cold, windy but brilliantly sunny day. The hardened few, consisting of Kip, Trish, Melinda and I remained to explore a little more. We found an abandoned church, bricks worn by countless Russian winters, tree branches pushing through the decaying roof. And within 10 minutes down the curve of the road, deep in a hollow, we stumbled upon a sprawling Soviet-Era hotel. Inside, it was almost empty, aside from a few dezhurnayas making their way through the darkened hallways. After enjoying a long lunch in the massive dining room, certainly prolonged by a few imported beers, we left the surreal testament to Soviet over planning for the walk back from the outskirts of Suzdal. We took a looping road back into the little town and continued through it as we made our way onwards to the bus station. But as we walked through the beautiful, ramshackle houses and streets of Old Russia, I was struck by a touch of sadness, that I could have lingered a little longer in Suzdal.

-John Studiman, F99, Moscow

Looking at the calendar today, I just realized that we have been in Moscow for one month now. On one hand, it feels like I have been here forever, and on the other, it seems like I just got here yesterday. We have packed in many group activities and tours since our last newsletter: The Kremlin, Ismailofsky Park, the ballet and Victory Park to name but a few. We also have weekly guest speakers on various topics pertaining to Russia and its place in the world socially, economically, and politically. In addition to all these things we have also had our Russian Language classes. Luckily, I have been able to meet some people who don't speak and English so I can practice outside of class. I am still at the stage of being in awe about being here every time I see a new "famous" building or landmark, having to pinch myself to make sure it is not a dream. Being someone who detests large cities, found it difficult to admit, but I love Moscow. For a city of over 12 million people it does not feel crowded or that populated, and many people have previously described it as a collection of villages rather than a city. Just don't bother asking people for directions, because you won't get 'em! The city is not, for the most part, reaching for the sky with skyscrapers, but rather, an eclectic mix of 17th century buildings with soviet era concrete and brick giants. This does not give the same closed in, claustrophobic feel as other large cities like Toronto and New York. But the large buildings -built mainly during soviet times-are truly large. Our residence for example, built under Stalin is the largest university residence in the World. Over 30 stories high, it also goes down an equal number of levels below ground. There are many rumors and tales about a secret underground city used by the KGB and other government organizations, all connected by a second, secret metro system. For the true conspiracy theorists, you may find Lenin's brain stored here, presumable hooked up to computers and laying in a bubbling broth! Not to be content with only one such giant, Stalin ordered a total of 7 of these buildings, built as a present for his new bride, and hence the name "seven sisters". The others serve as hotels and government offices. From the museum at the top of our building, an awe-inspiring view can be had as Moscow stretches out from your feet and the gold-domed Orthodox churches which dot the city, twinkle like jewels in a crown. To close, I would like to encourage anyone who is considering visiting friends or family here with our program to do so. You may not get another opportunity to do so again. The beauty of this city along with the highly affordable range of activities will leave you with memories which will last a lifetime.

During the life of Tolstoy, Russian peasants would make a sort of pilgrimage to his estate Yasnaya Polyana where Tolstoy, a man of the people, readily accepted them. This is the epic story about a small group of Canadians who made a modern-day pilgrimage and survived to tell it. I have seen Five A.M. more than my fair share of times while I've been here in Russia. This was the first time my day began and did not end at an unseemly hour. Tula, a small Russian city of 500 000 was the destination. Four hours by train and another half hour by bus into the country, and there we would be. Kevin, Alena, Kelvin, Melinda, Erin, Peter and myself thought: "how hard could it be?" The lesson of Russia has been that nothing is ever really simple. At the train station we had to hurry and purchase our tickets - apparently 5:30 am was not an early enough departure time. On the platform, Peter thought he should relieve himself before getting on a train that had no toilet facilities. He left, and came back with only seconds to spare. "Is this our stop? Everyone seems to be getting off." Melinda - our surrogate leader of the day - was asleep. The rest of us weren't sure where we were going. Quickly we grabbed our stuff and the doors closed behind us. On the bus that would take us to the estate was one of Russia's most helpful bus drivers. Letting us out, he pointed in the direction in which we were supposed to go. Fifteen minutes later however, we figured out that he'd been pointing to the spot where we were supposed to WAIT for a second bus. Finally we were on the right bus, traveling towards the Russian country side. Erin and I sat in the only two seats left at the back, Alena grabbed one seat at the front and the rest of the group stood for the hour-long bus ride in the scorching heat. The bus filled up, separating us from the rest of our group (once a Russian bus is totally full, they like to pack 30 extra people on). A nice lady who we were confirming our directions with moments before, kept a good eye on us. She seemed to be smiling at us most peculiarly. Getting off the bus, I noticed another lady looking at our rag-tag group of adventurers with the same look: she was laughing. We were finally there. "What did the Soviets do to this place?!" I thought to myself when I saw a huge golden statue of Lenin standing in front of an 18th-century mansion. We decided to have lunch, so Kevin, Erin and I ventured down a path while Kelvin, Peter, Alena and Melinda decided to eat in front of Lenin. We thought that there was no reason to split up, seeing as "we were already at the estate." So we figured we would meet back up at Golden Lenin at around 4pm. After lunch, we ventured into the mansion, believing it to be Tolstoy's estate. We were way off base -- it was not a museum and the others were nowhere in sight. We asked for directions, while the others had done the same. "Through this field, past the hospital, along the road, turn right and you can't miss it" were the directions we got, or so we thought. My Russian isn't that good under pressure. Forty minutes later, confirming our way with a few more people who gave us that same look, we found the rest of our group at the gates of the estate. Apparently their adventures were similar and their walk just as long. We then found out that a tour of Tolstoy's house had to be done by a guide. Because of our complications we had just missed one. Oh well, we thought - the next one is at 3pm! So we got tickets which confirmed our spots on that tour, although the actual tickets had to be bought at the time of the tour you're just supposed to show up at the house 5 minutes to 3pm. This gave us an hour to explore the estate. Alena's map in hand, we went off and found the orchards, beautiful landscapes and Tolstoy's grave. Time to head for the house. "I think it's this way..." "NO, we should go a little further this way..." "I think it's over there..." "Wait, no we are here, and according to the map it is straight through that field right there!" It was quarter to three. Quickly we backtracked. I had the map in hand. Along the path, there was supposed to be a path leading to the left. Such a path presented itself. We followed the path and emerged in an orchard which wasn't on the map. We ventured out, peering through the trees; 5, 10, 15 metres, it's ten minutes to three, perhaps we should turn back but WAIT! What's that over there? I catch a glimpse of a building; I rush towards it. "IT'S THE HOUSE!" I shouted back. "We're going to make it," I thought. Earlier on this beautiful summer day, Erin appeared to have been the smart one by changing into shorts but now, going through the orchard was impossible for her. It was covered in nettles which create a burning sensation on skin. On the spot she decides to change back into pants. As Kelvin and I turn to give her privacy on the island of refuge she found from the nettles, she figures out just how close to the house we are when she sees all the people walking by only 20 meters away. It's three o'clock - a little past the time but probably not a problem. That is, if we had been in the right place! Apparently we were supposed to be at the front gates and not at the house. Obviously a tour of the house would have to wait until next time we're in Russia. A slight run-in with the police for not buying bus tickets on the way back to the train capped off our day nicely. Why all those Russians were looking at us so strangely might be because of the strange adventure we were on. More likely, it's because they're not used to westerners lost in the Russian countryside or on city transportation. Westerners arrive in air conditioned tour buses and are treated like royalty; students like us went economy class and had an adventure along the way. In the end, I think our pilgrimage was not only fun, but more enriching than could possibly be conveyed within these few paragraphs. I wouldn't exchange a second of it.

-Brad Seigmiller, F97, Moscow

Russian Society

Lately I've been trying to sum up the reasons why students who come to Moscow love it so much and get drawn back at a later date. I believe the root lies in the apparent discarding of our pampered North American lifestyle. We cut ourselves off from pop culture--no television, microwaves or washing machines in the dorms. You learn to rely on your own resources and those of your friends. To get anything done in Moscow requires a super-human effort. Navigating through Russian red-tape is just as tricky as braving the metro at rush hour. I know that I love the chance to disappear from North America and live like I do in Moscow. But here lies the paradox. We actually ARE living an easy life, at least in my opinion, by Russian standards. You speak to an embassy diplomat, businessman or "New Russian" and they'll probably have a different opinion. Their reality, though, is built on such a different foundation than millions of other Russians. As students, yes, we do have our noodle-only with bread on the side consumption days. But we also have a sense of security that Russian students simply don't have. We know that if things get too dirty or depressing here, we can go for a night out of drinking and dancing, we know that we can go home to a land of brightly polished malls full of salespeople that are so darned happy to serve us. Still, the Russians we've met don't seem to begrudge us for this different perspective. They sit us down, correct our pronunciation, feed us and cajole us to drink with them. I'm constantly amazed by the friendly exchanges I have daily with the bread-shop ladies, strangers who lead me to the place that I've enquired about, my Russian students who write essays about their favorite artists from the Tretyakov because they tell me I need to understand the artist's life to understand his works the list goes on. In all my ranting about our spoilt North American lifestyle, I've left out many of the real factors that intrigue people about Moscow and compel them to come back. There's the beauty of Russian folk songs sung with such warmth after vodka at 3 in the morning, Red Square and Christ our Saviour Cathedral, lit-up majestically at night. Once again-- ad infinitum of occurrences which force me to think and smile, long and deeply. As I battle my guilt over being a comfortable spectator on life here, I'm learning to appreciate, with due reverence, the beauty and mystery that rise above the grime and hardship in Moscow.

-Melinda Gayda, S98, F98, F99, Moscow

A huge percentage of what Russians make now goes towards basic foodstuffs. The poverty around us is blatant with old people and war vets prostrate in the metro tunnels begging and young Russians who are constantly drinking because they find little solace in their future prospects. It's also more hidden from our view, in the provinces, where people are surviving on 100 rubles (less then $10 Canadian) a month and small garden plots for food. These people are part of the Russia that we really don't know.

-Melinda Gayda, S98, F98, F99, Moscow

Perhaps the most shocking aspect of my experience in Moscow so far has been the overwhelmingly blatant difference between Moscow's two castes, namely the filthy rich "new Russians" and the hopelessly poor average Moscovite. Middle class, for intents and purposes, non- existent by our standards, is measured by the ability to afford a car. It is very common to come across elderly people who have no other option but to beg. This is a country whose values and customs are so foreign to the western lifestyle that it must be witnessed firsthand to believe. Culture shock is an understatement. Surprisingly, amid societal and political anarchy, the Russian people manage to remain warm and friendly, perhaps because they feel empathy towards us. Culturally and traditionally on the other hand, Russians are among the richest I have come across. I look forward to a great life experience here.

-Warner Grovum, W99, Group Leader F00, Moscow.

Pringles. I spotted them out of the corner of my eye with great excitement. I was able to pronounce what I wanted to the shopkeeper with fluency: "Pringles, pahzhalusta." And she understood. And I think, no… I know… that was a twinkle in her eye as she handed over the luscious baked potato snacks to my eager hands, and sent me on my way.

But, alas… Russia has more to offer than Pringles. So much more. The McDonalds restaurants right across Moscow invite you to purchase one Big Mac, upon which you shall be rewarded with another Big Mac at no extra charge. Metro maps are available at reasonable prices and indicate clearly the locations of the city's 20 Golden Arch outposts.

In all seriousness, I am quite happy and well here in Moscow. There is a certain…. culture shock.. that takes some adapting to, but the truth is that is part of the fun. I doubt if any of us came to Moscow expecting things to be easy. And things are not. Nothing is. The simplest task at home (e.g. doing laundry, or buying simple goods such as coat hangers or a mop) takes incredible planning, wit, stamina, and coordination to perform here. Easy can be boring, though, and this place is far from that.

I must run…but will be emailing you all in the near future with exiting tales. Seems we are planning a trip to St. Petersburg…. They have a SubWay restaurant there!

-John Place, Winter, Spring, Fall 2000

Everything's funny in Russia these days, it's a comedy show in so many ways, the stoic faces on the metro will smile, if you try to stand up and don't hang on for a while. The radio's playing an American tune, but the Russian video will be out soon. The loitering cats will do no one harm, and the dogs around here hold disarming charm. Food's pretty funny; the most strange looking meats, if you find some that's not its undoubtedly sweet. Laundry's amusing; in a tub on my floor, its soon to be hung from the line on my door. When someone knocks the whole mess falls down, and the visitor greeted with the trace of a frown.

But its hard to stay angry when their only wish, is for you to come taste some fine Russian dish. Its laughable cause all the new people I see will slip into my mind as part of the KGB. But Russia is great in a roundabout way just consider the humor in each given day. Manipulate digits to get to the ten that's meant to pay off the Militia men. Documents, Visas, Passports and cards must all be kept handy to enter the yards. Of this fine institution in which we will learn..... Well, after the vodka I can't quite quite discern.

But I'll conclude with the statement that I like it here, The only thing missing is Canadian beer.

-Christine Baes, W00, Moscow

Friends and Family

Pringles. I spotted them out of the corner of my eye with great excitement. I was able to pronounce what I wanted to the shopkeeper with fluency: "Pringles, pahzhalusta." And she understood. And I think, no... I know... that was a twinkle in her eye as she handed over the luscious baked potato snacks to my eager hands, and sent me on my way. But, alas... Russia has more to offer than Pringles. So much more. The McDonalds restaurants right across Moscow invite you to purchase one Big Mac, upon which you shall be rewarded with another Big Mac at no extra charge. Metro maps are available at reasonable prices and indicate clearly the locations of the city's 20 Golden Arch outposts. In all seriousness, I am quite happy and well here in Moscow. There is a certain.... culture shock.. that takes some adapting to, but the truth is that is part of the fun. I doubt if any of us came to Moscow expecting things to be easy.

And things are not. Nothing is. The simplest task at home (e.g. doing laundry, or buying simple goods such as coat hangers or a mop) takes incredible planning, wit, stamina, and coordination to perform here. Easy can be boring, though, and this place is far from that. I must run..but will be emailing you all in the near future with exiting tales. Seems we are planning a trip to St. Petersburg. They have a SubWay restaurant there!

-John Place, W00, Moscow

WOW, the first month, the second phase has begun. But has it affected me? NO. Churchill is calm and cool and with a new attitude. Showing people the real me feels grrrrreat. I have new energy flowing through my body, a new outlook on life. New doors and ideas have been opening everyday. The real test now is to bring this feeling home and show my parents the good person I can be. Fred, you're a great man, to give this chance to people to get their act together. Coming here allows people to understand and learn about themselves and gain respect for themselves. I have changed from being a spoiled brat and have stepped out of the rut I was in. I want to show the world that I have made a change and I am creating my own surroundings. I love how I have changed and yes, everyone, I do have a bullring. And I love it. I am a great person and I have a great brain and I can learn a new language and no one has to worry. I am not dumb or stupid. I am 21 and it's time to swallow my ego, and start being real to myself and to others. This trip has shown me who my real friends are, and with their support, I feel like I can do anything.

it is cold actually freezing 15 for the last two days and I am warm and freezing at the same time, I had my first taste frost bite or chill blains or skin freezing off my body... one of the three. It's good to know NOW that you should always wear tights under your winter skirts, well some of us like to find out the hard way or painful way shall I say. I got used to slipping and sliding in the snow, the way a New Zealander does when she hasn't any experience of snow. I don't mind that people stare when I wave my arms wildly trying to stay on my feet. Especially now as I have suffered the humiliation of landing on my butt in the middle of the market. Hey three times in one hour, nothing embarrasses me anymore...But it's alright really.

-Deb Sheppard, W99, Moscow

Before we left, Fred Eidlin said that after a month or so we would ask ourselves why the hell we ever came to this godforsaken country. I said no way, not me. I mean - it's just another country. I would like to brag that I felt invincible. Other than the fact that my luggage had been lost in transit, I was completely happy with everything. It was all new and wonderful to me. New small rooms. New huge, falling-apart buildings. New three-laned roads -- completely filled with speeding-never-stopping Ladas. New language with cool new shapes for letters. A new city and new country for my touristy viewing pleasure. A new city under construction for its 850th anniversary this fall, and even beautiful white nights in Petersburg at solstice to keep the marveling meter high. To some people all this newness, I guess, just seemed to be overwhelming -- but not for me. I was picture happy. Humming around saying "Hey look, another beautiful church" or "Another picturesque babushka!" or "Another cigarette ad breaking every known restriction on sex-in-advertising in Canada!" I was language happy. It's so easy to find Russian people who want to simply share a little wine and some conversation. I was learning more than I thought possible. But then, a couple of weeks into July I cracked. I got sick of the hundreds of pigeon-hunting crows screaming at 4:30am each morning. I got sick of car alarms going off all the time. I got sick of loud smelly dirty streets that leave all your clothes with a dead grey tinge. I was frustrated that, although I come from Scarborough and thus should long for anything but these, there are no single houses or normal shopping malls anywhere. I was tired of having to think in another language when all I wanted was a bottle of water. I was tired. I wanted my TV. I wanted a normal bar where crazy Russians weren't dancing on and or falling off the bar. I even got sick. But being sick and locked up inside wasn't so bad. Someone from our group was always around to talk to and more-than-replace my TV. Now I have American friends, German friends, Finnish friends, Portuguese, Swiss and even Russian friends. Sometimes we speak Russian and sometimes we don't. Somehow I've become picture happy again, but not so much for the churches I once found so unique. I'm not so shocked and amazed by this old city that once seemed so new. BUT! I know that I'm going home soon to the shopping malls and endless houses. I'll be leaving these parks and boulevards, the nightly lit Stalin towers, the shine of the Kremlin's cupolas at night. We're leaving in one week. Departure a month ago seemed forever in the future. Now I know that I can do without my TV a little more.

-Ben Alles, F97

Going Home

It's hard to believe there are only three weeks remaining. How time flies! Things are very well here in Moscow. I have made some wonderful friends here, both Russian and Canadian. My experience in Moscow has taken me through many different stages, all of which have been interesting. Like all things, good or bad, this, unfortunately must come to an end. Just seems to be at its best! On the bright side, we still have three weeks left to learn and to take in the Russian culture. I look forward to make good use of the remaining time and hope to take advantage of the many things to left still to do here. Despite the great time I"m having and have had, I also look forward to returning to Canada and seeing my family and friends. Until then, Poka!

- Jeff Fry, W99, Moscow

As the saying goes "Time flies when you're having fun." As most of us are settling in Moscow and getting used to the Russian life, it will be time to go home soon. During the three months here, not only did I attempt to learn a new language known as "rooskie" but also to drink vodka straight from the bottle. I came to learn that patience is a virtue and a smile goes a long way. I came to realize that there are still people in the world who like to do things the longer way and human life has no value. Even though we live in a multi- cultural country in the world, you meet more people from around the world and learn about other cultures in the bars and streets of Moscow. For me, it will be a big culture shock when I return to Canada and I will have to learn how to live like the North Americans do all over again. One thing is for certain, all of us will return with friendships that will last a lifetime and memories that will never fade about the good times we all had in Russia!

- Zara Nathoo, F99, F00, Moscow

Only three weeks left to go. Warner and I have a new roommate in 129. Her name is Yoda. She's a young Jedi in training. I will soon have to say goodbye to Anna, Anna II, Sonya, Elena, Nastya, and Steph. Let's not forget the one from the Garage (someone help me out with her name!) I am really going to miss Superman (Doug). Hopefully he will keep the girls at 37 Celsius until I get back. Don't worry Doug won't have to buy any more carrots or sugar. This is the last week of snowboarding at the big treacherous Mt. Kreelatskoye. It's hard to breathe at 200 feet. There is another cat which is pregnant and everyone loves her but the person that is supposed to take care of it has a hard time doing so. Please give it a new name. "Koshka" sucks.

-Craig Churchill, W99, Moscow

Is there a solution?? This is the question that I think I ask myself way too many times a day. Why TOO many times you ask? Simply because each time I ponder over the matter I seem to come out empty handed where any type of solution is concerned. There are so many things here that are complicating and irritating...and yet something has drawn me back for the second time in 2 years. The funny thing is that I am by no means the only one who struggles with these confusing issues. Moscow...Moscow...Moscow...what are we ever going to do with this place?! I am getting really weird out thinking about being back home, walking down the street and hearing English. I am so used to hearing Russian. The truth is that I really like hearing it and I find myself glaring at the nasty tourists that seem to appear, larger in numbers, as the weather gets better. I simply can just not imagine myself going into a grocery store anymore either. I want to import my kiosks back home along with the great prices. I am really not looking forward to having to use dollars again when I feel so comfortable spending what seem to be large sums of money but that are no where near large. Then there is my room...oh how to give up my wonderful room? What about the churches? I can't stand the thought of walking down the street with no beautiful Russian church in sight and no old beautiful places to explore. And how to live without the cats we now call our own, even though they are stray...They are always around when you need a friend or when you need to laugh. I am not even sure how life is going to be biez (Russian for without) my 2 wonderful Russian instructors. In any case, as you can see it seems quite clear as to why I would want to stay in Moscow...but the reality is it ain't people, one of the most important thing that I have learned here is that most of the time things are not super clear even when they appear to be, but that is just Moscow our beautiful, confusing humongous Moscow.

-Aelina Eidlin, Group Leader, W99, Moscow

Culture shock and home sickness. We were all warned about these things both before we left Canada, and during our first weeks here. Generally culture shock follows a pattern: initial euphoria which keeps you going for the first while, and then frustration with the foreign culture and language. Once the frustration has passed, one learns to accept and deal with the hundreds of exciting daily stresses that living in a foreign culture brings. Some of us may not have followed this pattern, but we have all felt the effects of culture shock at one time or another. Now that my time here is almost up, I've been trying to take a closer look at my experience. For me, the positive-negative-positive culture shock swing was a daily and sometimes hourly occurrence during the first month or two. I had enthusiasm, but the daily frustrations took their toll. Now after having been separated from my husband and children, and going a little crazy, constantly being frustrated, I have adjusted finally. I have learned to live comfortably here and to be happy. Frustrations still abound, but I know them, and can prepare myself. I feel I have learned much about this place and its people and I know I will return. Now that I am at home here, and know a bit more, I have finally gained some perspective about my experience. I was supposed to write about Moscow for a rural newspaper while I was here. I didn't, and I'm glad. I know I would have written about the negative aspects of being here and given people the wrong impression. I know each member of the group has had a different experience in dealing with adapting to life in Moscow, where most of the group is more than ready to return home now. Our pace has slowed down and our enthusiasm has waned. After wanting to go home for the first two months, now I'm only partly ready to return. The task I set for myself here is not quite finished and it seems somewhat ironic that now that I am feeling good about being here, my time is almost done. Oh well, it will be good to be home with our loved ones, and those of us with unfinished business here in Russia, there is always a return trip!

- Erin Grexton, F98, Moscow

Russian Women

As my first of three semesters here comes to an end, I've been spending time reflecting back on the last three months here. The time has flown by, and it is hard to imagine that soon most of the rest of our group will be in Guelph. I am looking forward to summer here, and already it is starting to get warmer. The last time I said that it snowed the next day, so maybe I should be more cautious. Summer will allow me to explore more of the city parks as well as other towns which surround Moscow, known as the "Golden Ring". Towns filled with history, these will offer a different glimpse at life in Russia, as life in Moscow does not show the realities of living anywhere else in Russia. In the last three months I've made lots of new friends, maybe some of which will come back for the fall semester, and I've like to thank them all for making this semester fun and exciting. In closing, I'd like to present my "top and bottom five" list, the five things I like and hate most about Moscow.

Bottom Five:
5. Russian Drivers - Perhaps the worse in the world? There is no such thing as pedestrian right-of-way.

4. Beggars - With no social safety net, and with the crisis last fall, there are a lot of poor people here. Many are elderly or veterans who have not received their pensions in a year. The thing I hate about this is just how these people have been treated, and they always remind me of my grandmother.

3. Expatriates - I guess I am one too, but the ones I hate are the obnoxious ones who think they are kings and the coolest people around, just because they come from North America or Europe. Most of these people are total losers back home.

2. Bureaucracy - It always takes 5 times longer to do things here, than back home. Nobody knows why.

1. Hot Russian women - Sure they're beautiful, but talk about demanding. If you forget to hold one door for them or if you call five minutes after you said you would, there's hell to pay. Even though we're only students and not "real foreigners" (living off of expense accounts) they still expect you to pay for every single thing.

Top Five:

5. Hungry Duck - It was a sad day last week when we learned of the closing of this Moscow institution. Despite the frequently crappy music, it was always fun to make a visit to the "Hungry Doogie".

4. Club 1240 - Really room 1240 in Sector "B", but it soon became known as a club! Many a night was spent sitting around talking, listening to music, eating and drinking vodka. Cheaper than the bars, it was also usually more fun and as they don't really speak English, it was good for the Russian language experience as well.

3. Metro - Clean, efficient and beautiful. Many of the stations are adorned with huge statues, chandeliers, paintings and mosaic. Marble pillars reach up to the high ceiling, and the stations seem more like museums.

2. Russian Food - If you don't mind the grease, the food here is always great (except in the cafeteria). Simple to prepare yourself, or at any rate, one of many cheap restaurants across town, Russia food is great, and is often eaten as part of a ritualistic gathering of friends.

1. Hot Russian Women - Yes, the stereotyping, the big, fat, old babushka exists, and might be prerequisites for working at the metro, but they also have the highest density of super babes I've ever seen. Never dressing down, they always look like they're off to some formal even or occasion. All I can say is wow!

-Doug Grier, W99, S99, F99, Moscow

The Distorted Picture of Russia

To all those people who believe they know something about Russia, but haven't been there: YOU DON'T!!! Yes, I thought I knew about the "new" Russia because I watched news and read a few pages of a magazine. I can safely say that after six days that things are still amazing me. In comparison to the average Russian, we "poor" students are very well off in out everyday lives. Most Russian families make only $150 U.S. per month, whereas some of us have casually spent $100 in the short time we have been here. As for the language I am slowly coming along. I now know enough to buy food and get around on the metro. The metro is a great mode of transportation for the students enabling us to go anywhere in the city. This has caused me a few adventures, mainly trying to figure out where I am! To be safe, I now count the stops. Speaking of stops, my preferred stop has been Club Propaganda. What a great time! This is one of the only clubs we can find thus far that is similar to a Canadian club. Good music, relatively cheap drinks and not a bad crowd. Open until 6 am! I am living fairly well (noodles, bread, cheese, sausage, etc.) The market provides us with everything I need for dirt cheap. My room is poor by North American standards but I think I am growing accustomed to it. Anyway, things are off to a great start. I look forward to further immersion in this wonderful culture.

- Jeff Fry, W99, Moscow

You know you've been in Moscow too long when...

1. You notice yourself cynically saying "beuvaet" (it happens) to any comment made by an exasperated friend.

2. You can craftily butt ahead in the McDonald's line-up, with foreigners looking on in indignation and Russians with respect.

3. You could actually curse at the car that almost hit you in Russian but then you think, "that's just natural for oncoming traffic to speed up while I'm trying to dodge them"

4. The cashier at your local store knows your preferred number of Baltika.

5. You find yourself humming the latest Russian dance song (or Cher for that matter)

6. You develop a preference for instant coffee.

7. When you see a group of foreigners obviously lost or not understanding the cyrillic, you inwardly feel glee.

8. Peanut butter cravings...dead and gone.

9. The smell of vodka oozing from people's pores on the early morning metro only mildly nauseates you.

10. When a Canadian asks y