My Brother the Author

I have been home for a whole week now. Weird. I'm getting over the culture shock. Still, though, I have to keep reminding myself that I'm not going to go back any day now. That part of my life is over; at least for a long time.

However, there are good things here, too. One of those is that I have been reunited with my awesome family. My brother Nik, for instance, has been entertaining me almost nonstop since I returned. For your reading pleasure, here's a sample of his hilarity in a story he wrote for extra credit. Ladies and gentlemen, without further ado I present...

The Incredible Adventures of Pete and Tim

By Nikolas Grosland

Once upon a time, there was a giant carrot named Pete. Pete was twenty feet tall but the thing that surprised people most about him was the fact that he was alive. The farmer who grew Pete tried to keep him a secret but, it's not very easy to find a place to put a twenty foot carrot. Especially when it's walking around. The government found out about Pete and sent a helicopter to pick him up. The government built Pete a monument and even gave him his own house. But Pete was sad. He missed his old home with the farmer. Everything the government did to try and make Pete happy, just made him more sad. One day, a government official was sent to Pete's house to check up on him, but when the official arrived, Pete was gone.

The official whipped out his cellphone and quickly dialed the number for the FBI. He told them that there was a giant carrot running around and they needed to stop it. The FBI laughed at him for his foolishness and reassured him that there's no such thing as a twenty foot carrot named Pete. The official knew he had to get help, so he got in his car and headed for the white house. When he arrived he saw a horrible sight, the white house had been smashed and there were chunks of carrot lying around in the rubble. The official turned to run but as he turned around, he saw Pete. Pete's eyes were burning red and they seemed to pierce right into his very soul. He screamed, and ran to get away from this monstrous garden vegetable.

Pete would not let him get away. Every step that the official took, Pete would get closer. The official ran himself straight into a dead end and Pete recognized his chance. Pete leaned down, grabbed the official, and brought him up to his mouth. The official cried out seeing that the end was nigh. He closed his eyes and started to pray, hoping that somehow he would be saved from this terrible fate. He waited for the giant carrot to swallow him whole. The carrot was being awfully rude, and was taking a long time. So the official opened one eye to see what was happening. The carrot leaned forward and whispered into the official's ear.

"I think something happened to your white house." were the last words the official heard before he was swallowed up by a giant carrot named Pete. In the end, Pete ravaged the rest of the world and became leader. But because he was the only giant carrot, he became very lonely. One day as he was sitting at the top of the Eiffel Tower, his thoughts turned to his oldest friend, the farmer. He wondered what had happened to the old man who had given him life. He thought of all those times when the farmer had protected him from the outside world. He thought a while longer and wondered if the farmer had been protecting him from the rest of the world, or if he had been protecting the rest of the world, from him.

Pete suddenly became very angry as he came to this realization. He decided that he would go find the farmer and bring him a long and painful death. On the other side of the world, the farmer was just finishing his daily milking of the cows. As he turned to walk back to his house, he saw his most prized possession.

"Pete!" the farmer cried, as he dropped his buckets and ran to greet his creation. But before he could get to his long missed giant carrot, he was picked up. "Pete, what are you doing to me?" the farmer asked as he struggled to get free from the massive carrot's grasp.

"I didn't ask to be created! Why did you have to create me?! You kept me from the world so that I didn't destroy it, but now I'm going to destroy you!"

"I wouldn't do that if I were you Pete". Pete turned to see who the mysterious voice was, and as he turned he saw a giant watermelon.

"My name is Tim. I was created by the farmer to stop you when you came back for revenge". Pete looked at the farmer.

"Is this true? You've replaced me?" Pete became even more angry.

"Yes Pete. I'm sorry, but I did it for your own good. When I first created you I knew you were too powerful and that you wouldn't be able to control it. I knew that you would eventually be let free and that you would destroy the world. So as soon as you left, I made Tim. Tim is good Pete. And he will destroy you." Pete yelled out in aggravation and crushed the farmer in his hand. Pete threw him on the ground and turned to get rid of his replacement. Pete ran at Tim, but Tim was too fast. Tim dodged Pete then picked him up, and ate him.

Tim rejoiced in his victory, he yelled in celebration. He wanted to share his happiness with the farmer, and that's when he remembered. Tim ran to his creator and knelt by his side.

"Farmer! Dad. Are you going to be alright?" Tim started to sob.

"No son. My time has come. You have to save humanity now." Tim didn't understand.

"Dad, I killed Pete. Humanity has been saved." The farmer's breaths became weak. He could still talk, but only in a whisper.

"Pete had an older brother. I made him before Pete but, he was so strong that he left to the moon. He told me that one day he would destroy the solar system. That's why I created Pete, but Pete was evil. So I created you. And you're the only thing that can stop him." The farmer's eyes grew dim, and his body became limp. Tim yelled louder than he had ever yelled before, and vowed over the farmer's dead body that he would save humanity and destroy Pete's older brother.

But his vow was in vain...

Home for the Holidays

 

I knew to prepare for culture shock when I went to Russia. What I didn't expect was that I might experience culture shock upon my return to America. I've lived here my whole life; how could it be strange coming back to it?

Well, it was. It first started in the airport; my instinctive responses for "excuse me" and "thank you" are still in Russian, and that caused a lot of confusion with English speakers. And there are suddenly a LOT of English speakers. In Russia, the mumblings of crowds was easy to tune out, because I didn't understand it. If I ever heard English, it was usually directed at me. So now that everyone around me was speaking English all the time, my ears are constantly over-stimulated. It's taking some getting used to.

And it's really hard for me to talk about Russia in the past tense. I keep wanting to say, "when I came here to Russia" instead of "when I went to Russia." Mostly it's a matter of habit. But it does cause a little pang in my heart every time I have to correct myself. "I mean, when I used to live in Russia."

I miss my friends, the other ILP girls.

I miss my host family.

I miss the Russians I used to see everyday at the school.

And I miss Russia.

 

 But don't get me wrong. I am happy to be back with my family. They went all-out when I got home, making me a huge banner - "Welcome Home, Jessica!" - and delightedly showing me around the rearranged house. Everyone I've spoken to has been eager to hear stories about Russia, and I'm only too glad to indulge them. (I fear that the novelty will wear off, and I will soon become outrageously annoying with my Russia fixation.)

And I've gotten back into the swing of things. I've been to campus to take care of a few things for next semester. I've wrapped all the presents I got for my family. I've gotten a haircut. I've played video games with my family. I'm easing into the routine of things; because, like I've said, this all feels slightly uncomfortable and unfamiliar after my semester abroad.

However, if there's one thing I've always felt strongly it's the need to keep moving. Once I've got a handle on things, I always want to move up to the next level. Progression requires change, and I'm ready to tackle it.

Going to Russia was a big step up. I learned a lot; I grew a lot. But now I'm ready for the next step. For me, that means getting back to my education and really diving in to my English teaching studies. The next couple of years will entail a lot of career training, and I'm looking forward to it.

Thank you for following my adventures in Russia. There is still a lot that lies ahead of me - I feel as though I've only just started. You can bet that I'll keep writing about it. If you'd like to tag along, you are more than welcome.

There is so much yet to come.

Humbly yours,

Jessica Grosland

Temporal Anomaly

The whole time I've been in Russia, my family has been enjoying pointing out that I'm in the future. "It's Sunday where you are?" they'll ask. "Here it's only Saturday night! Crazy!" And it's true: St. Petersburg is eleven hours ahead of Utah. While that makes it slightly difficult to schedule Skype sessions - we have to talk early in the morning or late at night, in one place or the other - it hasn't really mattered to me day-to-day. My days are just as long here are they would be back home, except that there's a lot less sun. (The sun hasn't been rising until around 10:45am lately.)

However, the whole mess of time zones will become rather interesting once I start flying home tomorrow. Because although December 21st is supposed to be the shortest day of the year (astronomically speaking), this December 21st is going to be the longest day of my life. Literally.

Here, let me show you my calculations:

My Temporal Paradox


The first plane I take, from right here in St. Petersburg, doesn't take off until 7:35am. So that's 7 hours and 35 minutes already.  (Subtotal: 7 h 35 m) (Official Time: 7:35am) 


My flight to Frankfurt is scheduled to last 3 hours and 15 minutes. (Subtotal: 10 h 50 m) (Official Time: 7:50am)

Our layover in the Frankfurt airport is 2 hours 20 minutes long. (Subtotal: 13 h 10 m) (Official Time: 10:10am)


From Frankfurt, I'll be flying completely over the Atlantic Ocean and almost the entire continental United States - to San Francisco. That flight is 11 hours and 30 minutes. (Subtotal: 24 h 40 m) (Official Time: 12:40pm)

Then, in San Francisco we have a very long layover - 6 hours and 20 minutes. (Subtotal: 31 h) (Official Time: 7:00pm)

At long last, I will fly from San Francisco to Salt Lake City, Utah. That flight only takes 1 hour and 42 minutes. (Subtotal: 32 h 42 m) (Official Time: 9:42pm)

Finally, I will go home to my old bed in my old house in my old neighborhood. And I will sleep - but there will be 2 hours and 18 minutes left before midnight. That brings us to our


GRAND TOTAL: 35 hours


. . . in one day.


Albert Einstein, eat your heart out.


Now, there may be some of you clever folk who are thinking "Bah! That's not really a paradox. When you flew to Russia you lost time, now you're just gaining it back." Well, that's a valid argument. Or, at least, it would be . . . if it weren't for Daylight Savings Time!

See, this is where it really gets weird: when I left Utah and flew to St. Petersburg, I lost ten hours. But since I've been here, the good folks in the USA have changed all their clocks for Daylight Savings Time - and Russia doesn't participate in Daylight Savings Time. So when I fly back to Utah, I will be gaining not ten hours, but eleven.

That means coming to Russia gave me an extra hour of life.

How sweet is that?!



Sidenote: This post may or may not be an attempt to prove to my friends and admirers that when I get home I will be too exhausted to come to all of your parties. The invitations are, however, appreciated.

The Church of the Savior on Spilled Blood

First, I want you to look at this building. Just look at it!

Is it not one of the most beautiful buildings you have ever seen? The Church on Spilled Blood is one of the main attractions in St. Petersburg, and it's easy to see why. It's something you can admire and appreciate without needing to know its history. However, like most of the sites here in Russia, learning the history behind the beauty can add a lot of meaning to it.

I am no historian. Actually, history was always my least favorite subject in school; it was so much harder for me than everything else. However, being in Russia has given me a true appreciation for history, as I've spent time listening to Russians tell the story of their country. So I'll share what little I know of the history of the Church of the Savior on Spilled Blood.

(Amidst pictures, of course.)

 The Church on Spilled Blood (as it is nicknamed) was commissioned by Tsar Alexander III in 1883, as a monument to his father, Alexander II - in fact, it is built on the exact spot where Alexander II was assassinated. (Hence "on Spilled Blood.") It took 24 years to complete construction of this marvelous building. This is partly because the Russians chose to rebuild the canal around the area, so that they might include in the cathedral the square of sidewalk where their Tsar lay dying. It is still there today, inside the cathedral's walls, with a small memorial built around it.

Another reason it took so long to build this cathedral is possibly because of the extensive artwork. As you can see from these pictures, the inside of The Church on Spilled Blood is covered with beautiful decorations. It reminds one of the gorgeous paintings in St. Isaac's. However, that is deceiving; those depictions you see on the walls and ceiling are not paintings. They are, in fact, mosaics. Over 7,500 square meters of mosaics line the interior of the Church on Spilled Blood; more than almost any other cathedral in the world!

In the aftermath of the Russian Revolution in 1917, the church was looted and badly damaged. This was the beginning of a hard time for this cathedral. In the next couple of decades, it would be abused harshly. It was closed by the Soviet government in 1930. Then in World War II it was used as a dumping ground for bodies during the Siege of Leningrad. Even after the war, it was used for a long time as a warehouse for vegetables. This earned it the sardonic name of "The Church of the Savior on Potatoes."

(A little nativity picture for you guys. Merry Christmas!)

 However, during these dark times, a miracle occurred in this building that Russians still remember. In World War II there was a terrifying moment when one of the bombs dropped upon the city fell through the roof of the cathedral. It fell through the huge chamber and landed heavily on the smooth floor. But, for reasons still unexplained, the bomb never detonated. It simply lay there on the floor, quelled, until some workers were brave enough to carry it away. The Soviet Union was an officially atheist state at the time, and yet - so I have been told - this instance was seen by many Russians as proof that there was someone there, protecting this place.

(Pictures on display of the bomb and damages. Sorry about the lighting.)

Starting in 1970, renovations were done to the Church on Spilled Blood. For almost thirty years, Russians and tourists alike walked by this amazing structure, but were not allowed to go inside. It was not reopened until August of 1997. (So recently, the first ILP volunteers in St. Petersburg never got to see the inside of it!) Now, at last, people are able to go inside and marvel at the beauty and the history of this fantastic place.

It's a great story. It's a great building.

I've had such a great time.

Christmas in St. Petersburg

'Tis the season to get into the Christmas spirit. I'm sure that in America there are Christmas songs playing on all the radio stations, Christmas shows playing on all the TV channels, and Christmas decorations in every corner of every state. Everyone's planning for it, shopping for it, thinking about it. So it might surprise you to know that here in Russia - nobody cares that it's almost Christmas. In fact, they still have a month to go before they even celebrate Christmas!

See, here in Russia (as in most Eastern Orthodox countries, so I've read) they celebrate Christmas on January 7th. In fact, Christmas only recently became a national holiday again in Russia - it was surpressed for a long time by the Soviet Union, because they were an officially atheist state and didn't want to promote such a religious holiday.

Because in Russia they do focus more on the religious aspects of Christmas. They go to church on Christmas Eve and/or Christmas day. (To read more about that, click here.) Christmas is kind of the conclusion to the holiday fortnight that begins on New Year's Eve.

Because New Year is the big holiday for Russia. It's their biggest holiday, and most of the decorations we see in the store or around town (lights, trees, etc) aren't for Christmas; they're for New Year. (What I've read says that this is because when the Soviet Union cracked down on Christmas, a lot of the traditions from Christmas shifted over to New Year so they could still be practiced. I haven't verified that with any real Russians, but it makes sense from what I've seen.)

Anyway, they do have a lot of Christmas-type stuff around. (A lot of it is just for tourists; St. Petersburg is a big tourist city.) They have trees, Santa Clauses - though it's debatable exactly which incarnation of Santa is being depicted most of the time - lights, ornaments, candies, costumes, and more. My favorite distinctly Russian thing is the Snow Maiden. You'll see her in the pictures.

Enjoy! And play a little Christmas music while you look at the pictures, why don't you?

At the market, where you buy matrushka dolls and the like,
you can get these carvings of what looks like Santa.
Here, though, you'd call him Дед Мороз.
(Grandfather Frost)

Advertisement for a musuem of chocolate.
A life-size chocolate Santa! (or, Дед Мороз?)

Christmas goodies.

A tree outside one of the Metro stations.

Same tree

The grocery store - they love decorating, too.

Half of their decorations are dragons, though. For the New Year.

I love this girl. She's снегрочка ("snegurochka") - the Snow Maiden.
Granddaughter of Дед Мороз, the grandfatherly gift-bringer.
Here, read about her on Wikipedia.  

Lots more decorations...

etc...

etc...

etc...

Grandfather Frost and the Snow Maiden again.

Popular Russian cartoon characters Masha and Bear,
all decked out in their snowgear.

Giant Christmas tree in front of the Hermitage - the Winter Palace.
Yes, that's the building where the Tsars would have spent Christmas.

This is the tree at my host family's apartment.
My host sister Evelen put it together. See her there?

100th Day in Russia

It's not strictly accurate - we spent ten days on vacation in Estonia and Sweden, after all - but I have been "here" for a full one hundred days now. That is quite an awesome feat, in my opinion, and I am proud of it.

In celebration, I am posting (mostly re-posting) some of my favorite pictures of my adventures thus far. My very favorite pictures are of my students, but I don't want to post those on such a public site. You'll have to wait until I get home if you want to see them. (And trust me, you want to see them!)

The last four pictures on here are a panoramic of the entrace to the school I teach at. Just a taste of my teaching experience, which is the richest experience I'm having out here.

It's been one hundred days. Сто дней, правдо? Let's look back on some of the more photogenic parts of this journey.

P.S. Chelsea, don't lose hope! I'm working on a Christmas in Russia post for you. It'll be up soon.