Per aspera ad astra

Though it’s been several months since I was in Russia, I found this list and started giggling knowingly. Here are the ones I found most relevant, with my notes in italics:

1. You have to think twice about throwing away an empty instant coffee jar.
2. You carry a plastic shopping bag with you “just in case”.
6. You save table scraps for the cats living in the courtyard. Or the dog who lives in the area.
7. When crossing the street, you sprint. Without looking both ways, usually. You don’t have the time.
12. You argue with a taxi driver about a fare of 30 rubles ($2) to go 2 kilometers in a blizzard. I’m not paying a ruble over 20. I don’t CARE if I have to walk.
14. You win a shoving match with an old Babushka for a place in line and you are proud of it. Practically the highlight of the week. Bonus points if she had more than three bags
15. You are pleasantly surprised when there is toilet paper in the WC at work. I’m still surprised sometimes
16. You look at people’s shoes to determine where they are from.
21. You are thrown off guard when the doorman at the nightclub is happy to see you. Really, when ANYONE is happy to see me
24. You give a 10% tip only if the waiter has been really exceptional.
28. You ask for no ice in your drink.
29. You start using “da” instead of “yes”.
30. You go mushroom and berry picking out of necessity instead of recreation. It’s so fun!
31. You develop a liking for beets.
34. You start to believe that you’re a character in a Tolstoi novel.
35. You know seven people whose favorite novel is “The Master and Margarita”. Seven? Try half of the people I know
36. You change into tapochki (slippers) and wash your hands as soon as you walk into your apartment. It still kind of bugs me that this isn’t an American thing too
38. You start thinking of black bread as a good chaser for vodka. So are pickles.
44. You know more than 60 Olgas. Or Svetas. Or Lenas.
46. You wear a wool hat in the sauna. I would if I owned one!
48. You are rude to people at the airport for no reason.
50. ‘Remont’, ‘pivo’ and ‘nalivai’ become integral parts of your vocabulary. Pei pivo!
52. You are curious as to when they might start exporting Baltika beer to your home country. I think there actually is Baltika in the States now
54. You think metal doors are a necessity..
57. You speak to other expats in your native language, but forget a few of the simplest words and are forced to throw in some Russian ones.
61. You actually enjoy shopping at the rynok, and you think that Ramstore is the most advanced supermarket you’ve ever been to. Rynok, FTW.
66. You look for kvas and kefir in the supermarket, and ask to buy half a head of cabbage. Mmm, kvas.
68. You don’t feel guilty about not paying on the trolley.
70. The elevator aroma seems reassuring somehow. It’s this pleasant mix of urine, sausage and feet.
71. You no longer think washing clothes in the bathtub is an inconvenience.
81. You start buying Russian toilet paper.
82. You sit in silence with your eyes shut for a few moments before leaving on any long journey.
83. You look in the mirror to turn away bad luck if you have to return home to pick something up you’ve forgotten.
85. You never smile in public when you’re alone.
86. You know the official at the metro station/airport/border post/post office/railway station etc. etc. is going to say “nyet”, but you argue anyway. Slash bribe.
89. When that strange pungent mix of odours of stale sawdust, sweat and grime in the metro makes you feel safe and at home…. Just like the elevators.
92. You get wildly offended when you are asked to pay at the coatcheck. Oh, this BUGS me back here. Walking around in concerts/plays/museums with a coat is such a hassle
96. When the word “salad” ceases for you to have anything to do with lettuce. And starts revolving around mayonnaise
97. When mayonnaise becomes your dressing of choice. See? See?
100. You get excited when the dentist smiles and has all his own teeth.
104. You voluntarily take a stroll in the park, Baltica beer in hand, on a sub-zero day. That’s what the Baltika is for
105. You laugh at Russian jokes.
106. You actually get these jokes.

When you go back to the “home country”:

110. You specify “no gas” when asking for mineral water. Oops.
112. You are dumbstruck when high school or college students wait on you with a smile, reciting a 90 second spiel on the “specials of the day” – and display complete knowledge of the contents of each menu item…
115. You look for kvas and kefir in the supermarket, and ask to buy half a head of cabbage.
117. You get bored with the pace and organization around you, and can’t wait to get back to Russia.
119. You are in awe that after 3 days home your shoes are still clean.

While the next few days of my life were essentially planned out for me (work tomorrow, Kansas City Sun-Tues), today was my free day to do whatever I wanted, post 4:30. Now, I had every intention of coming home, walking the dog, playing Guitar Hero 3 and going to bed super early (remember that work tomorrow? it starts at 6 am). However, as tends to happen with my life, days intended for productive uselessness find themselves full of things to do. Which I like!

I’ve been meaning to start doing something physically engaging in a more structured environment (besides using my apartment’s fitness center/pool) and after reviewing my bank account, decided it was feasible to start up yoga classes.  After spending some work free time investigating the various possibilities online, I decided to attend one of Sayde’s classes- first one is free, what do I have to lose? I went to the 5:30 session at Prairiewoods, which is remarkably close to my apartment and I’m pretty sure it’s going to become a weekly, if not biweekly, habit. Being a newbie, I wasn’t sure what to expect. There were only two other people there and they had a fair amount of experience already, so I just tried my best to keep up, and think I did a fairly good job. The instructor was helpful and having someone there to adjust the little things is incredibly useful. Plus, afterwards I felt like I had gotten one of the best massages of my life and a decent workout.

Then it was off to celebrate the Hindu harvest holiday! This morning, my boss forwyaarded me an email from the college chaplain advertising a celebration for Diwali in Cedar Rapids. Essentially, Diwali is the Indian (primarily Hindu, though other faiths celebrate it as well) holiday, also known as the “Festival of Lights” (not to be confused with that other FoL) and celebrating, among other things, coming together, family, the goodness in everyone. I went to the Hindu Temple in SW Cedar Rapids and sat through my first Hindu ceremony, followed by lots of question-asking. Then came time for the real reason we celebrate these holidays- the food (I jest, probably). Lots and lots of tasty Indian food that I can’t identify by name (a lentil soup, a chickpea mix, some yogurt/dough combo, etc) and a general cafeteria/family atmosphere. It’s always interesting to see different faiths and cultures, mostly because there are some basic differences, yes, but the fundamentals remain the same. It also makes me look forward to Thanksgiving (in America, with my family) for the first time in three years!

While I’m not deliberately participating in NaBloPoMo or any similar pseudo-acronym-inspire-you-to-write movements, I have in general resolved to write more. And as part of being a solid writer is being well-read, so I figured it was only appropriate to start the ball rolling by writing about The Golden Compass, which I finished this morning.

First of all, I’m not going to be doing this book complete justice; it’s the first part of a trilogy, and I’m of the belief that trilogy books are not meant to be analyzed and reviewed as stand-alone literature, but as one story broken up into three sections. [Note: However, I believe that books in a series (ie. Harry Potter) can be taken individually, or the series can be reviewed as a whole.] The Golden Compass is part one of Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materials trilogy, followed by The Subtle Knife and The Amber Spyglass.

Admittedly, the reason I decided to read this book (on top of the others I’m enjoying at the moment) was to be able to fairly compare it with the upcoming movie (the previews look promising), as well as to figure out what all of the Christian Right mumble was about. I’ve definitely done the latter. But I’m also a bit of a sci-fi junkie (though this is more fantasy-esque than I typically like), so it was a good choice.

Warning: Spoilers will inevitably ensue.

The book, like many other young adult fantasy books before it, is about an intrepid and adventurous pre-adolescent (a tween, if you will) who learns that her fate is inextricably linked with that of the fate of the world. Lyra Belacqua herself is a perfectly agreeable protagonist- independent, clever, wicked-good at story-telling, able to easily adapt to new situations- the kind of 11-year old we all wish we could have been (instead of the pimply awkward lumps that we were). And unlike us, she never has to feel alone- in this universe, each person has an animal companion called a dæmon which is, essentially, a physical manifestation of their soul. Because she is still young, Lyra’s dæmon Pantalaimon shape-shifts depending on Lyra’s current state; for example, when she is feeling bold and aggressive, Pan becomes a wildcat.

The story begins with Lyra going about her normal life as an orphan pupil at a prestigious academy, until one day a dark and mysterious man (her ‘uncle’ who is revealed to be her father) shows up and sets her story in motion. She begins a quest to- well, she’s not sure exactly, but she knows it involves going North and finding out about this enigmatic thing called Dust.

I’m not about to go and summarize what happens (if you’re desperate for Cliffs Notes, go read the Wikipedia), but adventures ensue, complications arise, and new characters are woven into the plot. In essence, a church-related organization is kidnapping young children and separating them from their dæmons (the closest equivalent to explain how awful this is would be likening the process to castration- a part of the child’s soul is then missing). The Church believes that this Dust comes from original sin and the dæmons (who settle into a permanent form when a child grows up) are in part responsible for their adult counterparts becoming sinners. Lyra’s father explains that the Dust comes from a parallel universe and wants to create a bridge between the two worlds. The end is climactic with no resolution, because it’s far from the end of the story. Dust remains a slightly unveiled mystery, Lyra and her father enter the parallel world (separately), and the Church/Power is mad.

/Spoilers

This book is not neutral, by any means, nor do I believe it puts up a pretense as such. It is very slanted, probably in the direction of Pullman’s own personal beliefs. That’s to be expected, I think. I’ll admit that this book is already biased against organized religion (of the Judeo-Christian variety) almost to the degree that Atlas Shrugged is biased towards Objectivism. And from what I’ve heard, the next two in the trilogy get even more opinionated.

I read several online reviews criticizing this book and its sequels as being ‘overly manipulative and cunningly telling young adults what to believe’. And no, I wouldn’t recommend this book for young children anymore than I’d recommend the Bible. But if you have a 14 year old child and you’ve raised him/her to think for him/herself, reading this book (or the Bible, or Atlas Shrugged). This book does not ’sell’ atheism any more than Chronicles of Narnia ’sells’ God. Religious perspective isn’t up for auction on eBay (yeah, I had to go check). But that discussion is meant for another post, perhaps my next.

In terms of the quality of the book, it’s dark and edging on the philosophical and a good story, if not terribly well-written. I make this distinction because Pullman, like Lyra, knows how to weave a story and pull a reader in. The book left an impression on me and made me want to read the rest of the trilogy. At the same time, however, it’s very much like DaVinci Code, where I felt like Dan Brown sacrificed good writing for the sake of the story and keeping readers interested. It makes the book more easily accessible (and thus, generally more popular), but there’s not the same level of intricate thought in every paragraph that you can find in Tolkien or Asimov. I don’t fault Pullman for that, and I thoroughly enjoyed the story (even if it has ensured my place in Hell). The characters, while not dynamic, had enough development to make each one starkly individual, but not so much as to bog you down in detail.

I’ll have to see how all of this is adapted (or is carefully edited out) for the movie, but it has definite potential. Book Grade: B+