Russia!

For the longest time, I've been wanting to finish up a scrapbook I started called, "My Book of Travels" basically, a scrapbook of all my travel adventures. Since school got out, I've been working on one particular section, and because I typed out what I wanted to write in it, I figured I would just add it as a blog post. So, here are all the memories that I have of my 10th grade adventure to St. Petersburg. Sorry its long, and may be kind of boring, but if you're curious enough to read the whole thing... then great! I added in some photos that will be in the scrapbook, I guess for your entertainment haha. All of this is what I am currently writing in the scrapbook. I realized I have actually tried shortening some of it as I go along (not main ideas, just phrases) so this is pretty much the bulk of it:

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Imagine that you live in a world of glitter and gold, enchantment and parties, stones and fine gems. Your history is rich of rulers with expensive and unique tastes, and in the period of a few years—it all changes. A new government has arisen, giving hope to the common citizen; unfortunately in even another set of short years it has turned to bleakness as nothing has worked out as intended. The truth to what has happened does not come to surface for nearly 100 years later, and yet living through this change is something that has never ever yet occurred in the history of mankind. This is the story of Russia.  

If you were to ask me what my favorite piece of history to study or learn about would be, I would reply in one word, “Russia.” I am fascinated, not by the rich elegant past, or the dreadful communist era—but by the transition. (Yes, I will admit that after going to Russia I learned to love the taste of Catherine I , and have always had a tint of interest in the Stalin era, but truthfully not as much as the story of the transition). As a child I was mesmerized about the mystery of the missing Anastasia, and what happened to Tsar Nicholas II and his family. I used to read books, and as a sophomore in high school had the privilege of writing a research paper on the family—to this day I recognize how much more I learned from actually researching for the paper than writing it. Fortunately for me, after the paper was written, I got the chance to travel to St. Petersburg for a Model UN conference. (This was my first MUN conference) I was a delegate of Syria in the Environmental forum.

Side note: Because it is hard to recall the order of events, and correlate my memories with what few photos I have, I will just write out the account, and have the photos mixed in spontaneously with the text.

The first day we landed, was a blizzard. Our plane was not able to touch down properly because the wind pushed it upward, and we had to circle around for another half an hour before we could actually land. From the Saudi warmth, to the bitter Russian cold, it was hard to bare. We were picked up from the airport on a charter bus, and had a tour guide with us to help explain things in the city as we drove to our hotel. Oh, she told wondrous things that made my ears feel like they were being filled with sweet honey. There were statues of men on horses everywhere, and she explained to us the symbolism (all assuming the man is on the horse): If the two front legs are in the air then the man died in war. If one of the legs is in the air then the man died of injuries due to war. If all 4 of the horses legs are on the ground then the man died of natural causes. She also explained to us why some of the doors on a lot of the older buildings were so large and so tall: So a man on a horse could easily go inside while staying seated on his horse. Our tour guide also took us to a small little shop along a not-so-crowded road—when i walked in I didn’t even know what to do with my eyes. We were in a shop particularly made for Faberge eggs... a Russian specialty. The royal family used to have these eggs made for each other on Easter. When I say, ‘have the made’ I mean with the most exquisite metals and gems you can imagine. I later bought a cheap glass one from Catherine the First’s palace, but it was nothing compared to what I saw in this store.

At one point we even drove by an old communist building on the banks of the Neva River, in which our tour guide told us of one gruesome night when a lot of people in St. Petersburg went missing... the next morning the river was red with blood. She joked about how the communists use to run things in the early days of Stalin. In fact, she even told us that if you were to notice the older generation of people walking the streets, they will never smile at you, and rarely will make eye contact. They were told to never smile, to always look stern; for fear of their lives that someone might be suspicious of them in the government. Nobody wanted trouble.

The first day we visited the Winter Palace (now called ‘The Hermitage’ which I will talk about later) and for the first night, this is what I wrote at the time, 

            “On the first night, for dinner we went to this really nice restaurant across [the square] from the Winter Palace, [the table was] Onyx, (what the Czar's really liked b/c when heated it supposedly changes colours [when warmed]...When we were going back to the bus, i looked at the Winter palace, and got kind of creeped out. I was just thinking, Man, there could be hundreds of ghosts in that place at night when the museum is closed! Servants, tsars, family, tons of ghosts! It was scary. That night we had a snow ball fight in the front of our hotel... Our hotel isn't [in the main city of] St. Petersburg, it's on the outskirts, across a bridge [of the Neva River], (the bridge goes up at 10 pm every night and is put down at 7 am the next morning) But man there is a lot of Alcohol in Russia. Down at the hotel store, a bottle of Alcohol was cheaper than a bottle of water. It was insane! [A few kids in our group actually took advantage of that, and I just ended up staying away from the store altogether just in case my lack of Russian reading skills would cause me to buy a bottle of vodka instead of water]”

This is my favorite photo of the Winter Palace even thouh you can't tell what it looks like haha.

 Its green though, and nowadays it is used as a museum because the Bolsheviks sold all the furnitre

that was previously inside. 

            Our hotel: I remember we were told not to drink the water, so Melody and I took a walk down the street to a small convenience store. We couldn’t read Russian, so we guessed what was a water bottle by the picture, and ended up getting extremely carbonated water to brush our teeth... it was disgusting! Also the first night, Melody and I decided to have some fun and jump on our beds. Unfortunately I broke mine; not in half, but a leg of the bed. Melody poked fun of me for the rest of the trip. At the time I was embarrassed but now looking back, we both still laugh. One of the days between the conference, we woke up one morning to big giant letters in the field facing our porch that said, ‘FREE PALESTINE’ it made all of us happy. Another funny thing about our hotel, was we discovered from another friend we had made on the MUN trip, that if you were to walk down the hall and bang on the wall, the light would go out. But if you wanted it back on again, he would bang on the wall, and it would turn back on... it was hilarious!

            Having a bunch of high school students together on the same floor of the hotel for our trip, was a blast for us. We would come out into the halls and talk, or if we kept the doors open, wander between each other’s room. There was one guy in our group named Kush, and one night we comes off the elevator (we were on the sixth floor, I think?) laughing, talking about how he had just farted as he left the elevator so everyone would be stuck with it as they went on their way.

 Melody in our room at the hotel

In a journal entry, I told how day 2-5 were dedicated to MUN. We met in an old famous communist building in downtown St. Petersburg for the general assembly on the first day. From the entry, I talked about how bored I was the first day for listening to opening speeches, but the next few days we were able to debate. There was a lot of note passing. I remember sitting next to a boy who had come from a private school in Florida and all these Russian girls would send him notes with their number or to tell him how good looking he was, because he was American. It was so funny! He did not seem the type to be used to girls contacting him, and he was actually really shy about it. Melody was in my forum (she was the delegate of Oman) and she taught me how to make origami stars, which I would do to pass the time when I got bored.

On the second day of MUN (day 3 of the trip) I talked about a school building where the environmental forum was held. It was quite the experience. Like most buildings I had noticed in St. Petersburg, was that they were all decades old. Some even before the fall of the Tsar. Looking at the buildings, it was also a sort of culture shock as I noticed there were no alleys. In fact, the buildings were built so close to each other, there was probably only an inch between when one building stopped, and the next began. Because of this, buildings rarely were torn down, but rather recycled. A building could have been an old elitists home, turned into a factory, which was later used as a school. The school I went to for my forum was also a shock to me. I was told the building was about, or just over 150 years old. The first thought that came to mind when I walked in was, ‘this is an old place and there have been many people who have walked in and out of here’ In fact, a lot of our MUN meetings were held in old ballrooms, where you could tell just by looking at the curtains, ceiling, or chandeliers that they were used for elegant wealthy class citizens in the 1800’s. I absolutely loved it.

Pepsi can, part of a lunch for MUN

One of the most vivid images that remains in my mind was an old staircase I remember climbing, in awe. Looking back as I guess to remember, I will say it was about 6 or 7 feet wide. The stairs were shallow. On the edges where one would walk to hold on to the railing, the stone was deeply depressed—you could tell thousands if not hundreds of thousands of footsteps have treaded those stairs in those 150 years. The bathroom stalls had no doors, and the building was freezing in the winter—the funding was low. There were old radiators dotting the halls, and the tiles looked like they had never been changed from the first time they were laid. Even the windows were like the reality of a photograph taken from a century before—the style and the fact they were pull-out, clear un-frosted windows with Victorian handles. The other fascinating thing to me, was that the school was still in use. I would walk past classrooms with paintings clothes-pinned to a string, or see lines of small children walking the halls. Was this the effect of the communist movement in Russia? My chaperones guessed that the government just didn’t care about the buildings and recycled them for everyone’s use.

On the last MUN night, for the entire Model UN conference a club was reserved (as in, booked out so there wouldn’t be alcohol and other non-high school MUN-ers around) for the students. I remember talking about how much I was not a fan of Russian food (they eat a lot of cabbage) and even for the entire trip felt Russian food was bland.  This is what I wrote from my journal for the night we went to the club,

“After the disco, we were going out to the busses, and as we were waiting, we had fun sliding back and forth across the ice. Oh, and right before the disco as we were going to our hotel, we had some fun with some students from Switzerland on the other bus, and one of the guys mooned us. Man was his butt hairy! Ha ha it was funny though [our entire group joked about it after that]”

Another opportunity that I was blessed with in Russia, was that we got to see a real Russian ballet! It was the ballet, ‘Carmen’ (written as a French ballet, but performed by Russian ballerinas). Before the ballet, our group walked around the building and took pictures with some of the girls dressed up in their fancy ball-gowns as models from the 1800s (they were the ushers). Before Carmen began there were some random acts, and then the show.. I remember being enchanted as I walked around thinking about how things might’ve been like in the old days.

At different points in the trip, because we were allowed to walk around areas that we would travel to by bus, or near our hotel (we were told to be back at a meeting point at a certain time) Melody and I wandered a lot. At one point our group was in an area with a Russia marketplace. It sold the usual touristy stuff, but we knew it was also a marketplace for the native people because there were things like produce, shoes, and jackets for sale. We also walked past a church called, ‘The Church of the Savior on Spilled Blood’ or other shorter names like, ‘Church on Spilt Blood’ or ‘Cathedral of the Resurrection of Christ’. Honestly, I don’t know the history. Our tour guide didn’t tell us about it and I even had to google image Russian cathedrals to find out what the name of it was. We did get the chance to go into a catholic church on a Sunday. It was very busy, and a neat experience. I don’t remember much other than the crowdedness but a lot of gold leafing and candlesticks. I also have a vague memory of our group on a bridge near the Neva river. We took photographs, and there was a bear for tourists to look at as they walked by (hence the bear picture) but I do not remember much else.

The last thing we saw in Russia was Catherine the first’s palace. But before I go into that, (which was my favorite part of the trip) I will record the last details of the trip, and what I wrote in my journal.

I will be honest, I got this photo from google (we actually went on a very snowy day)--because I didn't have a good one, and this was my FAVORITE part of the trip. I know I didn't talk about it in this blog entry, because I haven't written that part for it yet, but just to give you an idea: She painted it this color so that in the summer at a distance it would match the color of the sky and only the  white columns would appear making the building look invisible. Cool huh?! Maybe (i dont know yet) i'll include later what I write on this place but I LOVED it. 

Because MUN was over, and we needed to be nearer to the airport, our group moved to another part of St. Petersburg by bus. In fact, that evening we walked around with our group to shops, and under the streets through connecting tunnels underground. I remember we stopped at a Nike store so people could look at things, but it was way overpriced, so we left. I think I remember this mostly because we were in the heart of St. Petersburg—modern St. Petersburg. Russians who lived in the area surrounded us, homeless people on the streets, we even saw a McDonalds!

For the end of the trip, this is what I wrote,

“That night, we didn’t go to bed because our flight was going to leave at 3am. I took an hour or two nap. Then left. It was my birthday! We flew to Frankfurt, stayed there for like 5 hours. Me and Mel walked around a lot, and bought a chocolate bunny for easter. Then we took a connecting flight to Dubai, and then to Saudi. I had spent my 16^th birthday in 4 countries... how cool is that?! Ha ha ha it was great.. even though it was boring at the same time ;) Heh, so yeah. Russia was soooo fun!” And that was that. Yes, maybe a little dramatic as a 16 year old, but who isn’t at 16? I guess I will admit that just as I was then, I still am now...completely in love with Russian history.

How can you write about Russia, and not include a photo of Lenin? 

It would be disgraceful. Ladies and gentlemen, the man who was in charge

of all the change in Russia in the 1920's: Vladimir Lenin. (did you know he specifically

said that Stalin should never be in charge, and actually should be removed from his position as a secretary in the office because he foresaw how power hungry he was? He called Stalin a selfish, angry, irrational person.. and look who took control after Lenin got sick and died? How ironic.) 

The Story-Teller

Many many years ago there was a young boy who loved to look at the stars. He would look up astronomy books, trace, and keep track of traveling stars through the skies. Because he lived near the mountains and away from the big city, it was easy for him to go hiking or sit outside of his house at night and look at even the dim ones, that not many city-folk got to see.

When he grew older and as a young man he left his home to travel across the world. He found himself again in  a remote area, but this time among island-folk.Through getting to know them, he also learned of their history, their culture, but most importantly their stories. The people told wondrous stories of how their ancestors used the stars to navigate the seas, and even go up into the sky. Over time, and through laboring service, he learned to have a deep love for these people. He wanted to share the stories he had learned from older generations, to the younger generations.He wanted to take the principles of these stories to teach both his own children, and teach others how to apply the principles into their own lives.

And this is just what he did.

When he eventually returned home, he taught these forgotten stories to the island-folk's relatives; he told stories in prisons, he told stories to school-children, and he told stories to all who were willing to listen. He studied and learned more stories, recited, memorized and told them to even more people. When he had children of his own, he would take them out on clear nights under the sky and tell them the ancient stories he had learned, from loving the people of the islands.

I am grateful to admit that I know this story teller, and have now taken the time to tell his story.

Why are stories important? What do they teach us?
-They teach us about people's lives, cultures, principles and experiences.

By learning about other people we can learn to love them
By learning about principles, then we can become more deeply rooted in principles.
And by learning of other's experiences, we too can take those and apply/use them in our own lives.

Stories shape and form us. Teach us how to live, teach us how to get through the hard parts of life, teach us emotion; passion, love, Charity.

I'm forever grateful for the lesson of this story-teller. He taught me about the stars, about serving others, about Charity. From recited stories, to read books, it doesn't matter the type or source of the story... all have lessons; all have potential to principles learned. He read stories from books like Les Miserables, The Chronicles of Narnia, The Screwtape Letters, The Hobbit/Lord of the Rings, and many more...

He never missed up an opportunity to tell a story. From sea-faring adventures, to cowboys, to pirates and stories of ancient peoples... The truth is, I've learned to live because of stories and now will admit that this is how I personally choose to share Charitable love: by telling my own stories and sharing the lessons I've learned---for the sole purpose that maybe someone else can benefit. That's why we have stories, and that is why they are so significantly important: they shape our lives, and teach us how to live. I am again, forever grateful to my favorite story-teller: my dad.

This picture was taken during his trip to the Marquesas Islands

December 2009. Her name is Vaeheana.