Blakeney…proper fish and chips!
28 Saturday Jan 2012
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in28 Saturday Jan 2012
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in28 Saturday Jan 2012
28 Saturday Jan 2012
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inSometimes, Russia makes you feel like you’re in a romantic comedy. It’s a truly beautiful city. The stunning architecture is breathtaking, the fur coats ooze glamour, and weapon-like stilettos make you feel inferiorly dressed. You feel like any adventure can happen. Fall in love! Have a dance break in the middle of a park! Meet Putin! Wow, you just want to spin around and high kick you’re so joyous. Sometimes though, Russia sticks a metal pole up your butt.
You know, I really loved England. It was a lovely time, where the beer was flowing, people were waving with a friendly disposition, and there was no shortage of superb chocolate. My hosts were beyond hospitable and wonderful, I watched a million soccer games, and practised various regional accents. I cannot wait to go back and visit. The Olympics and the Diamond Jubilee?! Hello, I am so there.
But Russia, Russia, why must you be so unforgiving and cruel?
Firstly, I had many a visa problem when I was in England, for these reasons:
a) needed an HIV test that was NOT a million dollars
b) needed to wait a week for HIV results
c) all places closed for holidays
d) all places closed for Russian holidays
e) I am not a resident of the UK
IT TOOK ME OVER A MONTH TO GET A VISA.
I emailed my school, and they were not too happy or understanding. COOL. I really planned to wait a million years and spend a million dollars just to have a longer vacation!!!!! Whatever, over it.
I was set to go back on Sunday the 22nd. I got all my things ready for departure, and guess what? Did you know there was a maximum weight for bags? It’s 32 kilos. I was 3 kilos over the maximum. In order to change that situation I had to open my bags in front of everyone in line, who watched me stuff about 65 bars of chocolate into my already bulging carry on bags. I must have looked like the greediest hog ever. I wanted to say WAIT DON’T JUDGE THESE ARE PRESENTS! But are they really?
So that was the start of my trip, and it went downhill from there. I finally get to Petersburg, and the passport control lady didn’t like the way I filled out my migration card thing so I had to wait in line AGAIN for twenty minutes. I get my bags and there is a place where you have to scan your bags, but do you? We don’t know, because some people walked through and others didn’t. The lady made a rude notion behind me as I was deciding what to do. What do you do? We will never know. Russians, so friendly and helpful!
I needed a taxi, as there was no way I could carry about 100 pounds of luggage alone. This nice gentleman helped me with everything and I was so appreciative. THANK YOU FOR BEING HELPFUL KIND MAN.
False.
I was riding along for LESS THAN TWENTY minutes when he shows me the total on the “meter.” It was 4,078 rubles. That’s approximately $120. I didn’t have that much money, so I gave him what I had and I was so MAD. I hauled all my luggage accross 4 lanes of traffic, through the snow, down some curbs, and up four flights of stairs. Why would you have an elevator in a building? HOW WEIRD.
I unpacked. I was sweaty, tired, and very angry at the fact that the MOMENT I stepped onto Russian soil people were rude and conniving.
I skyped Clare and my parents that night, and I just cried to my mom and dad. I have never ever everrrrr cried once in Russia. Not for missing home, my family, my friends, good coffee, or the comforts of English. Not even when they stuck a metal pole up my butt. No, not even then. But Russia really can take a toll on the most positive of spirits. YOU WON’T WEAR ME DOWN RUSSIA.
I got back to work, had to give a timetable about all the steps I took in order to get my visa, and you know what…they thought I was in America! The whole time! I never told a living human that I was going to America. Uh, also it doesn’t matter because it was RUSSIAN BUREAUCRACY, not AMERICAN. It especially wasn’t American, because I wasn’t there!
One of my students told me this:
“Lindsay, Russia will make you a very strong person. When you get back to America, not much will stand in your way.”
SHE’S RIGHT.
Keep it real.
20 Friday Jan 2012
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inWow.
That’s all I can really say about the process of getting this visa. I am not a stressed out or anxious person by any means, but this ordeal raised my blood pressure a bit. A bit.
My visa was supposed to be ready today, but it wasn’t updated on the visa tracker online. Trust me, I would know if it was updated because I checked that thing no less that 6 times a day. The status hadn’t changed since I went there LAST TUESDAY, and let’s just say I was a bit nervous considering I booked an unfairly expensive flight for Sunday so I could get back to work on Monday. I am already a week and a half late for classes. MAJOR BOOTY.
Anyway, yesterday when I looked online there was still NO CHANGE. I was thinking many expletives when I saw that. I called my parents and both of them said to go to the application center and ask for it. Be assertive. Tenacious. Ask for what you want and pack a sandwich so you don’t get hungry. Do a sit in. Well let’s just say I am not the conflict type, and I can be sassy but only in a joking way. It’s not my nature to be particularly assertive. My sister Amanda got all of those qualities, and look at her now. On her way to be a lawyer. I on the other hand, play with kids and rehearse for life altering Christmas pageants.
Anyway, I listened to some rap to get my confidence up, preparing to ask for MY VISA. I got my ticket and mentally prepared for the potential worst.
So after a few rounds of Tupac jams I was ready. I got into the taxi and went into the consulate with guns blazing.
“Ok, no problem. Here’s your number.”
So anyway, I was the second one called, I gave the lady my receipt, got my visa and I was done.
WHAT?!
I was so prepared to sit there forever, and I was probably there for no more than five minutes. She took my receipt though, which I should have kept but I was so shocked that it was so easy that I just whispered a meagre “thank you” and was like PEACE OUT SUCKAS!!!!!
I hailed a cab back (that’s right look at this city girl) to King’s Cross, and the driver was the BEST. He was super chatty and lovely and we were there before you knew it. He said, “You’ve never been in a cab before have you.” He knew right away, and I think it was because of my awkward wave which was more like greeting an elderly neighbor than flagging a taxi down.
SO NOW I AM BACK IN SOHAM WITH A VISA!!!!!!!! I don’t have to cancel my ticket, I will be back at work Monday, and I am ready to actually start the new year!
When I told my mom today that I got my visa, she said PARTY TIME! Like mother like daughter.
Anyway, I am off to celebrate! WHEEE HIGH KICK!
p.s. I made the font turn bold somehow and I have NO IDEA how to change it. So, my b.
15 Sunday Jan 2012
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inAs most of you know, I spent four summers at a very dear place called CAMP BLACK HAWK. This place forever changed my life in a number of ways, and it will always be close to my heart. The most important part of my time there was spending many laugh filled hours with my campers, particularly the lovely ladies of ALGONQUIN (A-UNIT WHAAAT!). So this video is one of my campers, Skye, (who is the JAM BAM), performing one of her very own songs. Check it out y’all, because she ROCKS.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jPjeP1Q9nFE&feature=g-upl&context=G2d9315cAUAAAAAAAAAA
14 Saturday Jan 2012
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inSo as you might know now from my frantic facebook statuses, I have had a bit of trouble acquiring my visa. I will explain to you why all in all this has been a two month process. Yeah, you’re right. You say Lindsay, that sure is a long time! Don’t you think that’s a touch ridiculous? Maybe…unnecessary if you will? Why don’t they want you there, aren’t they trying to build up their country? Well dear readers, I would agree with your opinion fully. It takes a month to even get an invitation saying that Russia cordially invites you to stay for a while. I know, ridiculous…ABSURD. So when I finally got that I was good to go! I had all my documents and I headed to England to get everything sorted and on its merry way to the Russian Consulate in London.
I was under the impression that I didn’t need to get an HIV test this round. Well leave it to assumption to show that you are VERY WRONG. Pam called a million places and basically I would have to start selling some of my paired organs to pay for it all. Luckily we found a travel clinic where the test costs only £50. Whoo! I had to wait after Christmas and Boxing Day to even get an appointment, then I had to wait a week for my results, had to pick up the results, and by that time the consulate was closed for Russian holidays. Then, AS SOON AS THE CONSULATE WAS OPENED I had to go all the way to London. And for an emergency visa you have to arrive before noon. I had my trusty mini map and I hauled major bum (bum, not butt) to get there with 5 minutes to spare. I got a bit lost, but not for long. I’ve never been to London before so that was to be expected. Anyway I arrived, 150% sweaty and guess who I ran into!? JAMES. We were both there looking a bit panicky, and he had already been there for a couple hours because there were some major problems with his visa. He got it sorted though. Go James! Ok so, my number gets called, I have all my stuff and I am ready to roll. Everything was perfect and I was so smug with the feeling that I couldn’t be defeated by Russian bureacracy. They won’t stop me, mark my words PUTIN! Boy, do they always have the upper hand.
“Ver is your stamp of rezidency?”
“Oh, my Russian registration thingy saying that I live there/can be there legally?”
“No, for Eeeengland.”
“Buhhhh….I am not a resident of England? I’m American staying here to get my visa.”
“I see. Minimum of 10 days wait.”
I almost threw up. 10 DAYS?! Why why whyyyyyy? Was that the fastest way I could have it done? Yes. Are you sure? Yes. Really? Yes. I stayed really calm, but I was beyond sweaty and I was wearing a grey dress. BAD IDEA.
So I have to wait a week until I can fly out of here. I thank my lucky stars that I have hosts like Pam and Trevor. The only way I could possibly repay them at this point is if they needed and organ transplant or a blood transfusion and I could save their lives. Or if I became supa rich and bought them a month’s stay at the Blakeney hotel. Really, that’s the only way.
On the positive end, England rocks. People are nice, we can all communicate (sometimes…I don’t understand things that people say to me a surprising amount), there are endless amounts of great chocolate, good soccer, 2 hilarious black labs (Harvey and Bob), and lovely people. In the meantime, I am working through their Roald Dahl collection, drinking tea, and watching the show Gavin & Stacey (pee myself hilarious), and basically stealing other hard working people’s oxygen.
ON A DIFFERENT NOTE: we went to Pilates the other night, and during one of the silent stretches, this guy let a fart rip. I know farting is always funny, but when it’s silent it’s extra hilarious, and when you are with mature adults and aren’t supposed to laugh because it is in fact, SILENT, it’s all that much more funny. I was quite literally weeping in attempts of trying to stifle myself, and both Pam and her friends were trying to not look at me in fear that they would lose it themselves. It’s the simple things, you know? I hope I am never too hoity toity to think that farting isn’t funny, because IT IS.
I will also post pictures when I am on my own computer. Whee, high kick! Keep it real y’all.
04 Wednesday Jan 2012
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inSo my parents left this morning to return to the great US of A, which was sad as they were here for only a few days. BUT it was the first time they had been back since 1995 so dang, it was a party.
Anyway, we did some good things during our brief time together. We got our shop on, had many a meal and glass of wine, and laughed a lot. Those Bergs are a crew! The best part was probably going to the Championship League game of Ipswich vs. Nottingham Forest. We were for Ipswich, and felt rather confident since Nottingham hadn’t scored AT ALL in the last 7 games. Yeah that’s right, not a single freaking goal from this team. We lost 3-1. WHAT? It was bad, and it was just crazy soccer because it was played all in the air…almost the entire 90 minutes. Hellooooo professional soccer players why are you played touzands of dollahz if you can’t pass???? That’s the riddle of the game of life.
Anyway, there was this one particularly vocal fan who was constantly expressing his disappointment in Ipswich. He may or may have had one too many pints. He would yell WHHHAAAAT A LOOOOOAAAD OF RUBIIIIIIIIISH over and over which was hilarious, but a little boy (I pictured Oliver Twist) would echo. This tiny little voice would yell with such vigor and anger- TOO FUNNY. My dad and I repeated this phrase almost constantly because we thought it was hilaaaarious. Also, British fans boo their own team! It’s so crazy. Americans may be sad, upset, dissapointed, or angry at their team, but they remain loyal! We never boo our own team. We wouldn’t say anything was a load of rubbish either. So if you’re disappointed in something, don’t say it’s crap or dumb or another more colorful word do like the Brits do and say it’s A LOAD OF RUBBISH.
Finally, do any of you have New Year’s resolutions? I do:
1. Blog three times a week. I think if I have a routine I can post at regular intervals and finally be noticed by Tina Fey and become her assistant/babysitter/dishwasher/laundry folder. Really whatever it takes.
2. Read the Lord of the Rings. That’s right everybody, I haven’t read LOTR or seen the movies or know who Gandalf of Gollum is. SORRY. I will change that though. I have heard about LOTR more times since I have been in Russia then ever before (COLLIN WANNACOTT AND JAMES HARDMAN AHHHHH!!!!!!) and I have vowed to read them all fully.
3. Not be scared of Russian teachers. I am scared of them, and I should get over that since I work with them.
4. Take more pictures! I am terrible at taking pictures and I HAAAAATE being in them. But I should document my journey better wouldn’t you say?
What are you goals for 2012? They better be good because it’s the APOCALYPSE! LAST CHANCE before you’re beamed away and the animals take over! Luckily Amanda was born on 12/12 so she’s The Chosen One. She agreed to take me to the other side.
03 Tuesday Jan 2012
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inSo, my lovely older sister Amanda is officially engaged to her boyfriend of 4 years, Rocco. HOLYMOTHERFREAKINGCRAP I AM PUMPED.
I have had to keep this secret for what feels like forever, as Rocco told me he wanted to go ring shopping last spring break when I was visiting. (This was before I contracted dysentery). Then when I visited Austin before going to Russia he showed me the ring he bought! AHHHHHH SO SPARKLY! Then a few days ago he asked if I could set up a skype time with my parents so he could ask for Amanda’s hand in marriage. I told my parents and they were highly inquisitive about the nature of the conversation. I promptly ran to the bathroom because I cannot ABSOLUUTELY CANNOT lie. It’s really true, ask anyone.
ANYWAY, my beautiful wonderful lovely amazing intelligent superwoman of a sister is engaged to a fantastic guy. I couldn’t be more pumped or happy for them. What a wonderful way to start 2012. Also, her wedding is going to be CRUNK, as we have planned a choreographed dance routine since we were in high school.
Congratulations again to Amanda and Rocco, the superteam of the law.