I have only been in Russia for six days and I have spent five of those day afraid of being deported. You see, when you come to Russia, you must register with the Russian government within three days so that they can track your whereabouts. Well, I am going on day seven, and still no registration. But it's not like we haven't tried...we go one place, they tell us to go somewhere else, and they tell us to wait before they tell us to go somewhere else. Today, I finally got to the point that it has been so much trouble I would buy another ticket to leave early, but alas, neither can I leave this country without first being registered. This is a really long story, which really includes far too many police stations and too many overly made-up women saying No. I have never been so rejected in my life; I mean, I've been rejected, but never so often in so little time and over and over again. And the thing is, I can't even take it personally, because there is this new Russian law that we really don't understand. The real problem is that none of the Russian officials or tourist agencies understand it either, and they are passing us around from person to person, from office to office, from agency to agency in order to avoid responsibility for fixing my problem, even though they created in the first place.
I have learned a few words, particularly 'spasiba' which means thank you. At the end of the day when the man helping us (the only man, incidentally-i don't know what this means since every person who rejected us was a woman) after Dana had translated what he said, I stopped before I left and called to him through his office door, Spasiba, Spasiba. He looked up and laughed, nodding. (I think he really wanted to help us.) Dana laughed also, and then said to him, "This is her only Russian word so she wanted to use it, but she is very, very grateful." And I am.
I could go on and on, trying to explain the days and hours spent worrying and working on this; I could try and count the number of people that we have tried to talk to (9 in 5 days) but I don't want to bore you with the details. And actually, it is a fascinating story filled with the philosophy of and our personal theories surrounding the Russian bureaucratic system, but it is a long, varied, complicated story. Suffice it to say, once I am officially 'in' this country I will have a truly Russian story under my belt. And the story ends with me, after having so much trouble with a simple problem, ready to give the Russian government anything they want...copies of my passport, my visa, my customs card...my picture! my money! my books! Anything anything anything to get them to register me and then leave me alone until I leave the country; and it is in this moment, this moment of utter desperation, ready to do anything to be left alone, that I realize the power of a police state.
The rest of my Russian experience has been very Russian as well. I have eaten much Russian food, ridden on all three of kinds of public transportation used here in the provinces, including the marshuke (a mini-van that you ride in with abut 14 other people) bought food and gloves and an orange hat at the outside market...each day and experience is truly a story in itself. At the market, for example, they sell shoes, sweaters, socks, and underwear. And can I tell you, it is snowing. It is below zero. I cannot imagine buying a bra outside in the middle of rural Russina. When I commented on this to Dana, she said, yeah, I realized that I was really comfortable living here when I tried on a bra at one of the markets last year. I do not know how this works, and I did not ask for details, but I guess it just goes to prove that acclimation to any situation is possible.
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