We are building bad relationships with our neighbors.

From 10/26/08

Zombie Contingency Plan - Part 1: Moscow Apartments -OR- I live in a box

Getting down to business, it's about time that I gave a report as to how zombie-proof my living situation is.  If this notice is coming any later than it should, I hope to dispel all of your worries by showing you, despite how densely populated this area is, it may actually be the safest* place I've ever lived.

First, this is what the area I live in looks like.  Well suited for any post-apocalyptic scenario, don't you think?

From 10/23/08

From 10/23/08

You can only see two buildings here, but I assure you, there is row after row here--which of course means plenty of other survivors and plenty of (household) supplies.  Of course this also means there are plenty of potential zombies in the immediate surrounding, but this is nothing to worry about--Russian apartments are almost as difficult to get out of as they are to get into.  Behold:

From 10/23/08

From 10/23/08

From 10/23/08

This place is a fortress.

From 10/23/08

I'm pretty sure everything in this (and probably every) building is made of either cast-iron or concrete.

From 10/23/08

Above is a picture of the front door which requires an eight-digit code (31k9387) to open.  Sometimes I see rats running around outside (the possible source of such a pandemic).  But that's okay because we've got our own guard cat (although I guess that could lead to a zombie cat...).

From 10/23/08

You may already have seen how cozy it is inside the apartment.  All amenities included and such.  But did you know we've also got a thoroughly russified first-aid kit?  This is some serious shit.

From 10/23/08

It's even got a tourniquet--useful for that first small bite to a buddy's arm or leg, when it seems worthwhile to try simply severing the limb (Maybe the infection hasn't spread yet!) rather than shooting him in the head straight away.

So the supplies I've got here in the apartment are as follows:

-first-aid kit

-multi-tool/knife thing

-big maglight flashlight

-a ladder (for emergency exits from the second floor)

-an iron (unfortunately it's the best weapon sort of deal in the apartment)

-about a week's worth of food (which is really the only thing that would put a timer on locking myself in here)

I still need to get:

-duct tape

-binoculars

Overall, this apartment makes a pretty decent stronghold--probably built this way with some old Soviet suspicion that foreign invasion was always just on the horizon.  Zombies being just one of those threats.

Still, I wish I had a proper weapons cache.  At least a baseball bat or something.  With so many babushkas tottering about outside, with the male life expectancy what it is, and with suicide being a pretty big problem in Russia, the death rate must be fairly high here.  Meaning zombies galore.  I'll definitely need a way to fight back. . .

*regarding zombies

--edit:  On a completely side note, I just found out about this movie and I'm downloading it now (thanks Brady).  So I haven't seen it yet, but you all should definitely go out and rent it when it comes out.  I have a pretty good feeling about this one.

clubbing at Пропаганда last saturday -OR- I've become a tool

10/19/08

It turns out the key to not falling asleep at a club (or outside of one) is vodka and redbull. We even went out for sushi at 5:30 am before taking the train home.

another photo album of some sightseeing

9/21/08

dogs in space

From 10/18/08

The Russians sent dogs into space.  See?

From 10/18/08

photobucket (actually, picasa)

photobucket.com/brainsofgold

This is the address for all of the pictures below plus the others from the museum.  More to come.

edit:

Actually, I just made a Picasa account with even more photos:

10/18/08

I will be posting all my pictures here from now on.

Политехнический Музей

Yesterday I went to Moscow's Polytechnic Museum...  And in almost every sense it is now my all time favorite museum.  Not that I had previously been keeping track of favorite museums, but this place was fucking rad.

From 10/18/08

Science rules!

There were three types of exhibit.  The first looked like an entry for an 8th grade science fair:

From 10/18/08

Space!

The second type was all the stuff I'm convinced never actually existed (but only ever made it to prototype stage, so now that prototype is stored here):

From 10/18/08

Kids like to touch the exhibits in Russia too.

The third type was by far the best.  This is where the museum just flat out made shit up.  A good portion of the exhibits, for instance, were just a mish-mash of science fiction and hallucination, with no grounding in reality whatsoever:

From 10/18/08

There are a lot more pictures on my photobucket/picasa account(s), if you're interested (I highly recommend it).  After that, on our way home, we saw the KGB/FSB headquarters and I took a picture:

From 10/18/08

Then I bought this at a little souvenir shop by the subway:

From 10/20/08

It was a pretty good day.

I like Beloit

From 09/11/08

This is the carpet hanging on my bedroom wall.

a piece of paper I found in my apartment

From 09/11/08

This appears to be a part of someone's english homework. it is now hanging on the fridge. 5/5, mystery author! Good work!

"Yankee go home!"

So this is all very long overdue, but here goes...

First:  These are the Golden Brains of Russia.  They are what my blog is named after and they are awesome.  They were supposed to transmit something at some point in time, but they didn't work...  Now they just sit there.  I've only seen them from afar, as of yet, but plans to get up close are currently in the works.

Second:  "Yankee go home!" was something a student shouted in the midst of my explanation that we don't say "go to home" only "go home."  She said it and then realized what she said and then turned bright pink and then everyone laughed.  A good time was had by all.

Life here:  A lot of stray dogs live in my neighborhood.  It seems there's just generally a lot of stray dogs in Moscow.  I haven't figured out how they do it exactly, but they all seem to understand the idea of a crosswalk.  And they all wait for the little green light to cross the road.  There was even one on the metro the other day, just curled up in the middle of the floor, seemingly happily, as unconcerned with any of the passengers standing around him as they were unbothered by him.

I don't know what else I was expecting, but I've definitely found it to be a strange place here.  You can't order cheap pizza at any hour of the day.  You must always avoid eye contact with the police.  Even the young, healthy looking couples pushing strollers through the park are always carrying a can of beer in their free hand.  A bottle of vodka tends to be about 2 dollars and I hear packs of cigarettes can be less than a dollar.  The mullet is really big here.  Everyone reads books on the metro.  When girls carry flowers, they always carry them upside down.  Nobody steps over the white line while waiting for the train.  Russian men (especially older men) are always carrying shitty plastic grocery bags containing their personal possessions.  I guess it's less gay than a purse.

I've met a few Russians, but I mostly hang out with americans and a few british people as well.  Lots of people speak English here, but few will speak anything but Russian with a stranger.  I've been to a few expensive night clubs, but it never really feels right paying 8 dollars for a glass of beer no matter how loud the house music is or how well everyone around me is dressed.  I much prefer just buying a half-liter bottle of beer (they're as cheap as 19 rubles, or roughly 75 cents) and either going to the university or having people over at my apartment.

Alas, I hang out with Garrett often and despite his always having less money than even me he really enjoys going out to the clubs and I'm often convinced to tag along.  This almost never ends well.  Since the trains stop at 1:00 AM and obviously all of the really great 'clubbing' doesn't get started until about 12:45, we tend to either take a gypsy cab home (actually not terribly expensive) or we  go for the long haul and stay out until 5:30.  I've only been there twice when we attempted the second option, and both times have resulted in me falling asleep at a table in a bar.  The first time it happened, all the people I was with left me at the table to go to the dance floor and I was subsequently spotted by security and tossed out of the club (in actually a much friendlier manner than I probably deserved).

The second time, I slept at a table for a while and eventually went outside on my own to wait for people, where I fell asleep again.  I was awoken by two police officers who had probably been called to pick up the passed out drunk guy laying on the sidewalk in front of the club.  One of them was carrying an AK-47 and he spoke to me in English.  They mostly just wanted to hassle me for being an idiot and I could pretty much tell that they weren't going to arrest me or rob me or anything, but nonetheless I stared at the AK for probably about 90% of the conversation.  The one with the gun must have noticed where my attention was because then he pointed it at me and laughed.  Then, in my groggy, drunk and presently terrified state I made the decision to run.  I had all of my papers, etc. back in my pocket and the university was only about a block away, so I went there, found a car parked near the wall, hid there, and tried to call Garrett.  But about a minute later, a police car pulled up and the same two police stepped out and came over to me, probably somewhat baffled if not flat out appalled at my pathetic escape and even more pathetic hiding spot.  Thankfully, as I was apologizing to them, a guy and a girl who I know (actually, the people I was waiting for in the club) walked by just then--heading back to the university.  The police were apparently (and thank god) content just having some other people to make sure I go straight to bed.  So we went onto campus and to Garrett's room, where we found Garrett, who had split off from our group a while earlier to meet up with some other friend, and who had had an even shittier end to his night when he got punched in the face and mugged--hence solving the mystery of why Garrett didn't answer his phone when I called him.

So I don't think I'll be going to many more night clubs while I'm here.  I much prefer the carpeted walls and chandeliers, cast iron bar window coverings, and 3-inch thick metal door fastened by deadbolts of my apartment.

As for actually teaching, I wasn't sure if I'd actually enjoy it or not, but it turns out I really love teaching English.  I especially love teaching adults because I've found there are few things better than seeing that gawking blank expression on a well-dressed, obviously rich businessman's face when he's trying to figure out when you use a gerund or an infinitive.  

I have one "upper-intermediate" class of adults who I have just assigned (perhaps disastrously) reading Hamlet to.  They're all really great at English though, so most of the class period is just us chatting about whatever--usually cultural differences between Russia and America (which is almost as educational for me as for them).  I had them read some short stories I brought along with me, too.  First--because I thought it would be funny--I had them read 'Emergency' by Denis Johnson.  But they soared through it and one of them--Anton aka "Tony"--completely unprompted, summarized the story in a sentence to the effect of, "It's about how Georgie is always saving lives," which I couldn't really say anything to but, "Uh, yeah."  Then, purely because I figured it would have the highest chance of having been read (or at least heard of) by any American they might sometime meet in the future, I had them read Tim O'Brien's "The Things They Carried."  After reading this one, another student--Daniil--came into class and told me, "I don't know why this story is popular in America.  It is just lists."  Again, I was a bit dumbfounded and I was only really able to shrug and say, "I dunno either."

Hence I've moved onto Shakespeare, figuring they wouldn't be able to summarize his stuff so concisely.  But the more I think about it, the more I think I may have made another mistake.  First, they won't be able to understand a word of it (I should have just told them to read the Sparknotes.com summary).  Second, I think it's probably just best not to assign anything at all that I actually like.  I don't think I like actually thinking about why I like things.

I miss a lot of things about home.  The music fucking blows here.  Russians don't make good coffee.  I haven't had a hamburger other than a Big Mac yet since being here.  I miss barbecue and the discovery/history channels.  The TV in my room here gets about 12 channels, but only one of them is familiar and it's MTV, with such prizes as "Pimp My Ride" (which, actually, in it's Russian title is literally "I Drive a Wheelbarrow")--everything dubbed in Russian of course.  There's also "Law and Order" on TV here, but it is a completely different show, thoroughly russified with russian actors and what are--I suppose?--more believably Russian situations.  The only episode I saw began with an elderly couple being awoken by the sound of an even more elderly, demented babushka rustling through their refrigerator, looking for something to eat.  They can't convince her to leave, so they call the cops, who then discover something about how she was abused or something.  I don't really know because I didn't understand and I turned it off at that point anyway.  I think I understand why people are always reading so much here.  Reading or drinking.

Of course I miss everyone at Knox, in Beloit, Madison, and all those other places.  If you're ever inclined, definitely send me an email sometime.

Anyway, I love and miss you all.

From Russia with DEEZNUTS,

Stefen