I’m currently learning French through Duolingo. It is going surprisingly well. I am catching on and it seems like it’s filling gaps in my brain. I think I see French words, just around, in life, and finding out what they actually mean and how to accurately read them, is helping.
I’ve only been to one French-speaking country and it’s France. It was surprisingly grungy compared to Germany, which I just visited prior. Frankfurt and Berlin had clean, modern signage, state of the art graphic design, and impeccably clean streets. Paris seems a little bit stuck in the 80’s. Not that it doesn’t have a lot of charm. I didn’t catch the Francophile bug many of my friends had in grade school, wanting to see the Eiffel Tower, eat pastries, see world-class fashion and art. Germany seemed accessible for many people who speak a variety of languages. France seemed like it was only for French speakers.
I got to meet up with a friend and see a night club. We also had dinner at a tiny cafe. Paris was a cool little place that I’m glad to have experienced. I do think it might be overhyped. I would love to see the countryside of France and also other French speaking countries such as Belgium and Montreal. Casey and I have been watching French movies.
What is Russia like? It’s difficult to explain to people who have never been to a “second world country.” The West likes to paint Russia as a depraved place but in reality, it’s not that bad. It’s not like the wild wild west. It has nice parts and poor parts. It has problems but also extravagant luxury at times. The divide between rich and poor is outrageous in the US. But I feel like in Russia, it is an even wider gap. The rich control everything and regular people are left with nothing.
The city that I spent most of my time in while living abroad is Samara. I have so many mixed feelings about Samara. It is the ninth largest city in Russia, with a population of over one million. It is part of Western Russia but at least eight hours by train away from Moscow and St. Petersburg. It is on the banks of the Volga River.
Before coming to Samara, I had been told that it is the “San Francisco of Russia.” That’s one way of looking at it. The city is known for its embankment which sits on a downhill slope towards the Volga River. So I can… sort of… see it that way? The city comes alive in the summer. In the summer, it is certainly a place where people roller skate, lay out on the beach, barbecue, all that fun stuff.
I lived in Samara for nine months. I had four different jobs. I worked full time as a university lecturer, part time at a private language center, part time at a local gymnasium (a fancy term for private school), and at a work and travel program. The university lecturer job was ok. The differences between American and Russian university students is pretty stark. For one, university is almost free. More people attend university in Russia than they do in the US. Because of that, there is a sense that it is high school 2.0. It is basically a requirement to go. It seems like the stereotype of people who do not go into university when they’re eighteen is that they go straight into the army. They also have a different culture of the army, that there is a higher concentration of recruits from poorer ethnic republics. Another aspect is that in the US, higher education is seen as necessary for job advancement and higher pay. In Samara, that was not the situation because wages are stagnated and a degree does not guarantee a good job, a high paying job, or even a job within the industry. I am aware those are not the outcomes in the US either, but there is more of a match. For example, in my college of education program in the US, every one of my peers became an elementary school teacher, whereas the pedagogy program I worked at in Samara, only a few students pursued that after graduation.
One of the better jobs I had in Samara was working at a work and travel program. Basically, many countries, such as Russia, have programs that help youth find temporary minimum wage jobs in the US. Often, these are roles in theme parks and stores. Many of my students ended up working in New York City, some in Ohio, some in Wisconsin. It was just what was available or what their other friends had connections at. If you ever wonder why there are so many foreign young people staffing theme parks, it is probably because they are taking a part of a short-term work and travel program. These programs try to get students visas to come work. Often, it is under an “illegal” tourist visa. Many students overstay their visa and never return to their home country. Conditions are pretty bad, and job prospects can be low, so it is understandable that some may not want to return. When I stayed in Turkey, I had also met people who had taken part of a work and travel program to the US.
I held an informal English club at a work and travel center once a week. Students would come to prepare their paperwork and get ready for an English interview at the American embassy in Moscow. At every turn, there were so many ways Russian students would be turned around. For one, it is expensive to file for a visa. The paperwork is complex. They need to secure a job interview with the park, store, or restaurant, they intend to work. After that, they need to travel to Moscow, which is pretty expensive compared to travel in the US. Most students travel by train to Moscow and find friends to stay with, as hotels are also out of a typical Russian student’s financial means. They can pass all those steps but then fail their English interview at the American embassy. They might not show strong enough English skills. They might not make a convincing enough argument. They might cast doubt that they may not keep to their promise of returning home after the job assignment. It was tricky. At the club that I taught, my job was just to tell students about American culture. It was pretty fun.
A majority of the questions had to do with what was New York City like and had I ever been to the Statue of Liberty. Students also wanted to confirm of things they had seen in American movies were real – like Fourth of July being a big holiday or frat parties were a real phenomenon. I had never been to New York City prior to traveling to Russia, so I didn’t have much to offer. I told them a lot about Texas, though, but I don’t think I convinced any of them to travel there.
What is sad to me is that even after such a process, they will be earning below minimum wage at these American jobs. However, I met many happy students who returned summer after summer to work in the same parks. I also met students who stayed and are technically undocumented, cannot return to Russia. I feel like our countries could do better as providing short term jobs with higher pay. Or at least more specialized work. But as the US workplace is mostly monolingual, it’s difficult to think of other solutions.
I also became really good friends with the administrator of these work and travel English club meetings. We had a lot in common and I got to see her again when I visited Los Angeles. Even though Samara got to be dreary at times, I was happy to share traditions like Valentine’s Day and Christmas with young people.
Have you ever been heartbroken and alone in a city? That’s what St. Petersburg is to me. I went there as a shell of a person.
In Russia, I found it easy to just exist and float through life. As a foreigner, you don’t owe anyone anything. So you can check into a hostel, cry in bed, and half-assedly try to socialize. People are all over the place in a hostel, so it’s ok to be weird. It’s relatively safe so you can kind of wander in and out of shops and meander through book stores.
This was my second trip to St. Petersburg. This time, I went in the winter so there were no white nights. Still, St. Petersburg is so beautiful on every corner. The original French architecture is artificial, frivolous, and overly decorative. I love it all. It is the least Russian city in Russia. You kind of need to search for Russian food amidst all the European cuisines represented in downtown Petersburg.
I got to see some really awesome things there while I was being sad. Even if you’re too busy being your worst self, sometimes you meet some cool people that let you tag along to their adventures.
With some new Turkish friends, I acted as an unofficial translator and found myself at the Freud Dream Museum and Dostoevsky Museum. It was a lot of fun.
Petergof is for happy summer days. Peter and Paul Fortress, and the Museum of Torture, is for dreary winter days that drag on and on.
Forget the Hermitage. While it is only the most jaw-dropping, breath-taking museum in the world, this time I decided to visit Kunstkamera. Kunstkamera is the first museum in Russia. They have all sorts of zoological oddities and anthropology exhibits. I guess they are most famous for their weird samples of deformed babies preserved in glass jars. Just Google it to see lots of contextless images. According to this probably-not-very-reliable website, “people ascribed physical abnormalities or disabilities to supernatural powers so opening this museum was a way of raising the awareness of medical conditions that can be explained scientifically as opposed to make-belief nonsense.”
Sometimes a city is engrained in your mind as an emotion. I think that’s what makes traveling so special. St. Petersburg was a place I visited four years prior and opened my eyes to Russian Orthodox iconography. Cathedral of Spilled Blood is still one of my favorite churches in the world. However, a city can be created and recreated in your mind. I am so lucky for the opportunity to have traveled throughout Russia numerous times.
I’ve been to London twice. Once in 2014 and again in 2019.
When I visited in 2014, it was at the very beginning of my solo travels. It was my first stop in my 15 months abroad alone. I was only there for twelve hours on a layover to Moscow. I was so scared of traveling alone that I had my mom reach out to a family friend to show me around. She event sent me a subway map, months in advance. Jet-lagged and nervous, I met up with her, only to truly discover how much I needed to be alone.
She took me to many of the “tour guide” places in London, many of which I honestly do not even remember because of the a jet-lagged daze I was in. I think we went to the London Eye, Big Ben, Buckingham Palace, and Hyde Park. I’m not really sure because I was so exhausted. She was much older than me and we had extremely different interests. But I kindly appreciate the companionship and everything she offered to me on that day. What I really needed that day was a nap. Or mindless people watching. Or just… not that. Anything but “tourist sights”.
Looking back, I’m glad I had that experience because since then, I never felt the need to meet up with people when traveling. I’ve become keenly aware of what I like to do and am proud say that at many of the cities I’ve traveled to, I’ve neglected their most “famous” or “must-see” sights, instead creating my own “must-see’s” and going off the beaten path.
In 2019, I went to London again. This time, I didn’t call up anyone before. I stayed at a hostel, based on my own interests and budget. I let what I wanted to do take me… wherever. I ate whatever I wanted. I took a nap wherever I wanted. And I had three days there. Instead of ticking off the boxes that a typical London trip should entail, I headed straight to an art museum. It felt right already.
I’d been obsessed with taxidermy animals for a while. I’m interested in the now-defunct-ish study of zoology, at least in the colonial way the British do it. I love seeing rooms full of animals classified only by type. I fell in love with this at Kunst Kamera in St. Petersburg. With no formal science background, I just love seeing tons of ravens in a row, different only slightly or by gender. This tickles the need to organize and list in me, as well as fascination for animals. My boyfriend describes what I like as “a drawer full of birds”. With that in mind, I made sure I visited the Horniman Museum and Grant Museum of Zoology in London.
Do you have a travel bucket list? I sure do. Here are my top places:
Spain
Greece/Cyprus
Ethiopia
All of Northern Europe especially Estonia and Sweden
All of Eastern Europe especially Ukraine and Hungary
All of South America especially Peru and Argentina
All of Central Asia especially Uzbekistan and Kazakhstan
I guess every country I haven’t visited is a place I want to go…
The “easiest” place to get to is Spain, as in, it’s already a well-known and easily accessible vacation hot spot. It was the focal point of my three month-long trip this summer!
Barcelona was gaudy and exciting. The buildings and streets are beautiful. Every plaza, apartment, road, window here was out of a glamorous movie. Even the people were well-dressed. My hostel was a trendy place that required walking up a beautiful marble staircase and was next to a glamorous lingerie shop. Every little cafe I popped into seemed idyllic. Everything here feels glamorous but down to earth. Are all Spaniards just this effortlessly cool?
Gaudi’s buildings are charming and worth every tour. I went to Casa Batllo, Basilica Sagrada Familia, and Park Guell. I checked out Museu Frederic Mares for the most unique sculpture work, Joan Miro Museum, and the Pablo Picasso Museum. The Gothic Quarter that Pablo Picasso’s museum was in was an endless maze of narrow streets, quiet pubs, and art studios.While wandering around, I sort of had a goal, but I sort of didn’t. I knew going into Barcelona I’d definitely visit Sagrada Familia and Joan Miro mseum, but the rest sort of just happened. As an art teacher, wandering around this city just felt right. I never felt lonely here.
Madrid
I rode a train from Barcelona to Madrid.
Madrid and Barcelona are like night and day. While Barcelona was cool and contemporary, Madrid felt like it was still in the 80’s. But that didn’t mean I enjoyed it less. It also seemed like more of the “people’s city”. I had been told prior, that the day in Madrid starts at 9 PM. They were right. Another thing is that in Spain, people travel in friend groups. It was common to see five to seven old men laughing and walking in a group to their favorite pubs. Or groups of young people and friends squished together in a restaurant. It’s a good place to be a friend. Or have friends. Or be friends forever.
It was an easier place for me to make friends as well. I met a 40 something Argentine dancer. A Korean exchange student from the Czech Republic. Book shop owners that recommended good writers.
Madrid was great. I got to see Pablo Picasso’s “Guernica” in person. I learned what croquetas are and actually found an app that shows the best croquetas in the city, consumed probably my body weight in croquetas. Spain was blissful. Forget what you’ve heard about visiting in the summer. It wasn’t unbearably hot and art museums are air-conditioned. It’s definitely worth it.
My friends and I somehow all got diarrhea from the same ice cubes at the most upscale bar in all of Tangier, Morocco. Yes, whatever you’re thinking, it’s probably true, and yes, it’s disgusting. It lasted about five days. I left Morocco and made my way to Amsterdam. I was in the world’s hottest freakin hostel (in August), with the tiniest, most steep steps, on the fourth floor. Shared bathrooms. One shower. It wasn’t going to be good. Europeans laugh about how air conditioning is an American thing but… why? Why don’t they have air conditioning when it is literally hot every year at the same time? A cold winter does not mean your entire continent is exempt from air conditioning.
Well, I sweated everything out, day in and day out for the next three days in Amsterdam. I prayed to red district Jesus to revive me. And he did!
When I arrived, the first thing I did was eat ramen. Hot, sodium pumping, hearty, pork broth ramen. The restaurant had no other patrons and they said it’s because it’s summer, and they don’t have AC – nobody wants ramen. The people working there were all fanning themselves with how hot it was. Again… if they know it’s hot every summer why… don’t… they… just…? Ok then. Regardless, it was perfect for me. I needed that pure animal fat to shock my immune system. I continued to sweat everything out there.
I gathered enough of my strength to pull my body through some of the world’s best art museums. Continued to look at most food with disgust. Eventually the diarrhea and fever went away. Regardless of it’s reputation as sex-positive or weed-friendly, I’ll always remember Amsterdam as the place where Van Gogh’s Sunflowers revived me.
A very sick but devoted art lover’s guide to healing:
Van Gogh Museum – They have Van Gogh’s letters, contemporary exhibits, daily lectures, amazing architecture, and a fucking awesome museum cafe that remind you of why you came to Amsterdam in the first place
Moco Museum – For Kusama, Warhol, Basquiat, Haring, Koons, Kusama, Hirst, and Dali. Super small museum and not worth all the “hype” unless art is everything.
I think the hottest guys in Russia are from Kazan.
Hear me out.
Kazan is the capital of Tatarstan, a semi-autonomous region on the western, European side of Russia. Tatars are a Turkic ethnic group indigenous to that region. There are also about five million ethnically Tatar living in Russia. There also also Crimean Tatar and Siberian Tatar ethnic groups, they’re not all homogeneous. Tatars are often muslim, often speak both Russian and Tatar, and can trace lineage to the Empire of Genghis Kahn and to the Turco-Mongol semi-nomadic empires and kingdoms.
This is what it means in modern day:
Complete. Daddies. Everywhere. They don beautiful clothes and hats for prayer and religious festivals. They aren’t completely removed from the Russian gopnik stereotype but they’re the best of that world. They dress more formal (or maybe they make higher salaries?) Their language is distinct. It’s noticeably different from shrill, raspy Russian (though I love both languages)!
All jokes aside, beautiful people really make Kazan an interesting place to travel to. Wikipedia says “In 2015, 2.1 million tourists visited Kazan, and 1.5 million tourists visited the Kazan Kremlin, a World Heritage Site. In April 2009, the Russian Patent Office granted Kazan the right to brand itself as the ‘Third Capital’ of Russia. In 2009 it was chosen as the ‘sports capital of Russia’ and it still is referred to as such.” – so it is not a remote, unknown place by any means, maybe only to outsiders. There is a lot to do there. I liked it so much, I went back twice.
The first time I went to Kazan, I stayed with a couchsurfing friend and we went to a water park in the middle of winter. Yes, those exist in Russia! My friend lived next to the kitschy Puppet Theatre. Unfortunately, I didn’t get to see any puppet shows. The theatre is a monstrosity, but weirdly cute, and so very Russian. We also went to an awesome experimental art exhibit and even to the Museum of Soviet Life. I also went out of my way to the Temple of All Religions. It is a part found-art exhibit, part temple only in a symbolic sense. It’s a little far away from the city center so I thank god for my Asian privilege and was able to catch a ride with a Tatar guy driving by (or else it would have been a four hour wait for the next bus that may or may not come – in the snow). It’s an interesting phenomenon I’d love to explore with other Asian-presenting travelers in Russia – just the community care I inadvertently receive from minority Central Asian groups, typically employed as bus drivers, custodians, mechanics.
The second time I returned to Kazan, I went by bus with two international friends from Argentina. We stayed at an awkward hostel. Russian hostels are really hit and miss. Sometimes they’re amazing and sometimes you see more human bodily interactions than you plan to see. The three of us were right in time for a gastronomy festival. We ate a lot but didn’t really participate in the festival. Isn’t every day a gastronomy festival if you really think about it? But my favorite thing about Kazan is the Kazan Kremlin and Kul Sharik Mosque. It is so perfectly teal! Middle school Katie is realized when I see geometric teal buildings. Being in such a carefully taken care of area, with such ornate architecture, is so awe-inspiring. It remains one of my favorite buildings in the world.
I spent an entire week in Ufa, Bashkortostan, Russia. When I told people in Russia I was headed there, the immediate reaction was why? Bashkortostan is a sleepy Muslim republic off of the White River. I was like, why not? I want to get to know every inch of Russia.
I rode a thirty hour train from Tyumen (Siberia) all the way to Ufa. I met some people through Couchsurfing and stayed in their child’s nursery, in a sleeping bag on the ground. It was perfect. I got to be the fourth member of their cute family for one week.
First
order of business: I tried horse milk, known as kumiss. It’s the
Bashkir national drink. Imagine regular milk, but carbonated and
alcoholic. That’s what horse milk tastes like. In addition to Russian
food, Bashkir have their own dishes, a celebration of their Turkic
culture and nomadic roots.
There are some famous mosques in Ufa such as Tukayev and Lala Tulpan. In Ufa, Russian Orthodox Christianity and Islam coexist peacefully. Also, you can hear both Bashkir and Russian on the streets. Both are taught in schools.
I didn’t plan to be in Ufa during a special time, it just happened. I was there for both a jazz festival and a reunion show of a beloved Russian band, Chaif. The energy at the Chaif show was incredible, as it was an extremely popular band in the Soviet Union and still has the most diehard fans. The lady at the ticket counter said I bought the last ticket available.
Ufa
is a special little place in Russia. Forget Moscow and St. Petersburg. I
met the most memorable people in Ufa. I met people who love where they
live.
My family and I traveled to Frankfurt, Berlin, and Munich in 2015. We met friends and visited museums. I kept all notes and paper in a Moleskine notebook.
Germany is surprisingly a lot like the US. For some reason I get Philly-vibes there. Maybe the cleanliness, small streets, houses in rows make me think that. Also, people there speak English clearer than most Americans.
Most people rave about the food or beer of Germany but I fell in love with museums.
While I’m a shawarma addict in any country, I loved how doner kebab stands were on every corner of Berlin. I would go back to Germany in a heartbeat just for the snacks.
Soviet-era birthday postcards and a matroshka doll from Izmailovsky market in Moscow
When I was a freshman in college, I spent a summer studying at International University in Moscow. It was my first time alone abroad and my first time in Russia. I studied Russian in college, a brave and stupid decision that would leave me no choice but to travel a lot as an adult or suffer extreme wanderlust for the rest of my life. I saved all the little bits from my trip, from the flyers to metro tickets. It was my first time seeing beautiful Cyrillic everywhere and I was enamored. I wanted to get my hands on any print matter containing this beautiful alphabet. When I came home, I had a bag full of what everyone else would probably define as junk. Lots of papers, random photos, my university ID, all the random papers that came along with a six week trip to Russia. I only had few conventional “souvenirs” .
I decided to put it all together in an unconventional album, a vintage book.
This is a theory of music book found at a street market in Moscow. Don’t be fooled, this isn’t the romantic idea of street market that you probably have about thrifting and estate sales in Europe. Much of Russia is unemployed, especially the elderly, and people do what they can, selling their possessions on the street. I “thrift” as a foreigner on the streets of Russia with a tinge of irony and sadness.
As promised, calling cards and bus coupons.
Photos that I took on my first day there. I used old scrapbooking stickers and paper, hence the inability to find all the letters needed. As disorganized as it is, I tried to use make use of any little scrap.
When I look back at these posts, I cringe a little. It was 2015. I was weird. This is embarassing. But I am also proud to have this mish-mash of my psyche. I remember exactly who I was and what I was thinking.
