Buzzz Buzzz.. helloo

So I'm sick. I have a насморк. Which means a head cold.. or something. I probably deserved it, but still; this is quite an unfortunate situation. 

I woke up this morning and decided class wasn't in my best interest, so I knocked on my neighbor's door and asked him to inform my teacher. Everyone here is very kind, and I was offered numerous cold tablets ("tablets" is the general word for any kind of medication here), though I came to Russia well-prepared with a stock of cold pills. My host mother insisted that I apply a vodka-compress to my throat, but as of yet I haven't followed her advice (DON'T TELL HER). This is what you do: heat up a shot of vodka in the microwave (2 problems with this in the dorm: no microwave, and alcohol is forbidden), pour the hot vodka on a towel soaked in hot water, apply this compress to the front of the throat, wrap in saran wrap, then wrap with a scarf- tightly. Keep this torture device on for at least 6-8 hours. I prefer DayQuil.

I have been downing fluids, and exercising a lot (the bathroom is down at the end of the hall), so hopefully I will get better soon. I will still go to the Russian school tomorrow to help teach, although I will probably only stay for the older kids' classes, as I do not want to infect the little ones (although they are so cute!!). 

Life has been pretty interesting of late; I went to a jazz club last Sunday night and almost learned how to swing dance (big emphasis on almost). I was invited by the saxophonist, and he was really, really good. It was a small, underground (literally) club, with an intimate feeling and a close group of artsy Ruskies who love jazz and swing. I was duly impressed when several couples arose from their booths and started swing dancing- intricate footwork, red lipstick and all. I later learned, after some of the saxophonist's female friends adopted me into their circle, that most of them take dancing lessons at the same school, which explains the brilliant show. But at first, I just felt incompetent... should I be able to dance like this? Can all sophisticated artsy people dance like this?!

It amazes me how easy it is to make new friends here. Here, and anywhere, really. Of course it doesn't hurt that I don't stick out much from my surroundings, minus my height (but, there are some tall Russian women too, believe it or not). I know it's always easier to be accepted when you look like the people by whom you want to be accepted. But more than that, you have to not be afraid to show your true personality, your opinions and shortcomings, even to make a fool of yourself sometimes. In short, show them you are human, just like them. I certainly didn't impress anyone when one of the guys tried to teach me to swing dance- but I know at least a few of them got a laugh out of it, and they appreciated that I tried. And, importantly for all Americans, show them that you are not the egotistical, ethnocentric snob that they see in the movies or read about in the media. I can't tell you how many people have said that they had certain stereotypes about Americans, until they met me, and found me to be friendly, and normal (for the most part, haha!). I truly believe the path to world peace lies in personal relationships, because when people get to know each other as human beings, political labels and disagreements become secondary to shared experiences and bonds.

I live with people from countries not generally considered close allies to the United States, or places Americans typically choose as travel or academic destinations. I have classes with students from the Cote d'Ivoire, Syria, Italy, Cameroon, China, Turkey, Egypt, Algeria, and other places. Sometimes it amazes me to think of the variety of countries and backgrounds of the students with whom I live. But I hardly view the person as their political label: when I talk to someone, although it may be somewhere in the back of my mind, I do not see them for their country; I see them for their funny jokes, or their annoying perfection on the grammar homework, or their extraordinary ability to cook perfect rice. 

I see a person as exactly that: a person, with a personality, flaws, dreams, friends, problems, experiences, a past. I wish I had time to get to know each and every person, because there are so many issues that I would love to discuss with them, on a personal level (how do you feel about the treatment of women in predominantly Muslim countries? What do you think the best course of action is for the US in the ME now?...etc, etc.). But to be honest, although I have had some serious conversations with some of the students, usually we just talk about normal, day-to-day things- the cold weather, what's going on down the hall (those guys are ALWAYS in trouble with the key lady), new music, Russian class. Because we didn't come here to study each other; we came here, from all different backgrounds, to study Russian and to study at the university here. Sociologists and psychologists would have a field day here analyzing our odd little microcosm, but I think they, too, would just find normal college kids, skipping class and complaining about curfew (don't get me wrong, there are many excellent, diligent students here...). I can't help but wonder what it will be like to return to America, where I am in the majority, not the minority (I'm literally the only American in the entire dormitory).

I think, it will be quite skuchna (boring).