Vhat izz thees 'sun' you speeek of?

Hello again!
I decided to actually sit down and write a decent blog post consisting of more than me just looking suspiciously from side to side and repeatedly telling you all the time and date. Mostly, I’m just avoiding work.

Dad left on Monday after a final two day blow-out consisting of me getting very little sleep and eating a lot of food. The food was great; the lack of sleep less so. Go figure that I would need my dad to act like a proper college student…

I can’t quite remember what I have talked about in my other posts (I’ve done a lot more than I posted – oh I long for the days when internet was cheap and readily available), so please excuse me if I repeat myself. I’m sure there is a lot of stuff I will miss, so please also continue to send me emails berating me for the lack of depth and just anything interesting in my posts. I really should be sleeping…

Campus is absolutely beautiful. It is one of Stalin’s Seven Sisters, if that tells you anything. The main building is so large it is its own zip code. Yes, that’s right – one building is an entire zip code. It was built to hold 30,000 people and now also consists of multiple stores, classrooms, restaurants, and random post offices (not, of course, that I can receive mail). I live in Sector “zh” with my lovely suitemate, Susan, who has been an incredible help. She’s been here since September and has patiently answered all my questions from how to open the bloody doors around this place (a feat of epic proportions, I assure you) to why the guards seem to take pleasure in stopping random students and harassing them (apparently, you need to show them all your passes in order to get through – something that is very difficult when you have not been given said passes). Classes are still messed up, but I’m hoping for the best. My classmates, who have been another big help, have taken pity on me and offered to take me out for sushi (there are massive amounts of sushi restaurants around). I am quite excited since two of said classmates happen to be Japanese diplomats. I figure they know a thing or two about sushi… I haven’t made it to any of my internships yet and probably won’t be able to until classes work out, but have started on some more translations. Unfortunately, the internet café in the main building is lacking internet access and I must trudge across campus (it takes around 10 minutes to walk from my end of the main building to the front) and pay outrageous amounts of money to angry women in order to use the internet.

Mostly, I’ve been hanging out with dad and Joe. It’s been a lot of fun and I has given me a study abroad experience like no other (and I’m only at the end of week one). Joe has been more help than I ever imagined and I will be eternally grateful. I have experienced grocery shopping at 4:00 in the morning (we could learn a thing or two about food from Russia, seriously) and learned how to work gypsy taxis. Gypsy taxis (as some of you might know from Jason’s blog) are unofficial taxis. Basically, people who want to make a few extra bucks will pull over on the side of the road and take you where you need to go. They are about 10x cheaper than official taxis and a lot more fun. Granted, as a general rule, foreigners (and women in general) are warned to stay away, but Joe knows what he’s doing and has an irrational fear of my metro. Ah, the metro. My one and only true love. The savior to the lazy and directionally challenged. But I digress. Do not worry, mother. I will stay away from the taxis when I’m on my own. Scouts honor.

It has been unseasonably warm here. In fact, I went to a restaurant yesterday and they (wait for it) turned on the air conditioning. Air conditioning. In Moscow. In January. The past couple of days, it has rained instead of snowed. This has made everything slick with ice (even the snow has a layer of ice on top of it) and thus relatively dangerous. And amusing. Nothing is funnier than watching a woman in 4 inch high heels and a floor length fur coat flail wildly in an attempt not to ruin said fur coat by falling into a pile of sludge. I have not, I am proud to say, fallen even once.

Of course, my next blog post will probably come from a hospital where I am staying for breaking my leg after falling on the ice. But until then, I will continue to use it as my personal skating rink while everything shakes their heads at the crazy amerikanka. Granted, I’ve already busted my knee (according to dad, I might have a menicious tear), but I blame that on my inability to watch out for stationary objects. Speaking of vicious objects, a word to those in Moscow during the winter: walk far, far away from the edge of buildings. Caution tape is strung along the sides of buildings all over Moscow and I finally figured out why. Massive icicles form on buildings and kill a couple dozen people a year. Go figure.

I have also been warned away from dogs. Large packs of stray dogs roam around Moscow. Mostly, they supposedly leave people alone. The dogs do what they please and the humans let them go through the gates first. Just don’t feed them, I was told. And what happens my first day there? This old baboosha decides to feed one of the dogs which then comes after me. (sigh) I do not look like a tasty meal. I’m far too scrawny. But all is good. Hannah and doggie are now friends. Wait, where was I?

Ah, yes, the weather. I have heard many people complain about how Moscow is always dark. I prepared myself for a lack of light and being forced to stay in my room until April. And it is true. The sun does not exist in Moscow. I was having a conversation with a Russian woman and tried to describe to her how odd it was to never see the sun. I don’t think she knew what I was talking about when I said the word sun. Ha. (They also don’t understand the concept of cereal. Poor, deprived Russian people). But actually, it is always light here. Always. There are so many artificial lights that it is perpetually dawn. My internal clock shalt never straighten itself out. But all the light makes me feel relatively safe walking around at all hours of day and night. Moscow never sleeps. That must be why everyone is so cranky…

That’s all for now. I need to do some work and get some sleep lest I become one of the cranky Moscow people (Moscowites? Moscownians?). Loves to all!