My Birthday: Part 3

I left for the school at the usual time, if not about 5 minutes later. I got to the school and knew that my class was Math, and being 5 minutes later I needed to hurry and get there (no one else was in the area because they were all in class). When I got out of the coat room there was Liza. She told me that the class was changed because our math teacher is sick, so now we have two Russian classes (this would be like me saying I have English class- it is Language Arts) and then a normal schedule. I knew they probably don't do the whole substitute teacher thing here, so I just followed her to the class. She let me walk in first. I thought this was so I could shield her from the burning questions and chastisements some teachers give for late students, but the lights were all out.

Then it hit me- then the lights turned on- then everyone jumped up from behind desks, and six desks were put together in the middle of the room with lovely table clothes on it and with a beautiful cake in the shape of a Russian Nesting Doll (матрушка) with sugar flowers clumped in the center. Everyone started chanting "С Днем Рождения!" I couldn't stop smiling. I had to cut the cake and serve it to everyone (tradition), and Nastia spoke on behalf of the class and said some really sweet words. One phrase I particularly liked was "Our hopes are. . . that you survive the Russian winter." She listed other things, but that one made me laugh. 

My cake

They gifted me beautiful things made out of the birch bark and with beautiful designs. A mug, a box, a mirror, a brush, a contact book, and Nastia gave me a large Matrooshka doll (Russian nesting doll) and little Matrooshka candies. A girl named Yana gave me a white bear. She sits next to me sometimes in classes and helps me with my university homework and Russian in general. I was really happy and really shocked at, once again, how kind and wonderful all the people are here. I thought that we would do some little celebration, but nothing like this! I was given permission to store my gifts in the Russian classroom.

The rest of the day was pretty much normal. The English teacher gave me some chocolates. And PE was cancelled (you'll like this) because two girls used two different perfumes, the fumes mixed, and a chemical reaction to occurred in the changing room. It became a lovely fragrance of a cross between rotten eggs and mold. After our last class (history) Liza, Veronika, Lola, and I went back to the Russian room to get my gifts. We took pictures in front of the happy birthday sign and then they decided to gather up all of the balloons and have me take those home as well. So, in the end, I was carrying a bunch of balloons, four bags, what was left of my cake, and my school bag. Needless to say Veronika was super kind and helped me carry it all home. 

My gifts from the class.

When I got home I ate and started to get right to work with getting some things ready for the party the next day. Julia gave me two tasks: wrap presents for the guests and paint a fence. So I was wrapping presents (nonsense things that will be funny when they open them) when the mail lady rang our flat.
At the bottom of our apartment building there is a door on every corner (our building is like a square). By each door there is a keypad and a speaker. You can only get to your flat by going through the correct door and putting in the correct code or using an electronic key. If you want to visit someone, you type in their flat number and a phone by their door inside their apartment starts to ring. So, the mail lady "rang" us. For some reason I was hoping there was something for me. I knew there could be a chance it was. She came up to our flat and handed Arthur a piece of paper. 

It said basically to get your butt to the post office right now and pick up a box for a Mrs. Arielle! They didn't even try to do my last name.  So, Arthur said that when Julia got home we would go and get it! When she got home we left for the post office, which is right across the street. I was kind of worried because a passport is required to pick up my box, and since the University had it all I had was the copied laminated version my Dad made me. When we got there, the post office was on lunch break. So we went home, Julia walked the dog, and when she got back it was 1:45. So we went to the post office and waited half an hour (it was supposed to open back up at 2), and they finally opened the doors. 

The Russian post office looks more like the bank in the Mary Poppins movie because there is a fence or whatever around the counter so you can't steal the post or something. The guy didn't ask for my passport until almost the very end of the claiming process. Julia said that all we had was a copy but that "see, it's from America" and pointed to the eagle and the English. The guy really didn't want to fight with her, I think, and we were pretty far through the process (I had singed papers), so he accepted it as a passport. Then he put up TWO boxes on the counter. This made my excitement level go through the roof! It has been snowing lightly (not hard, and not sticking), and for some reason when we left the post office the snow made me even more excited. I think it is leftover from me being a little kid/middle schooler and hoping for the snow to stick for school to be canceled. It has just become a good omen in my life. Hmm.

Love all the surprises and the sweaters and the other stuff my family sent me.My dad put in a wooden-eagle magnet for my host mom and a candle that smells like cinnamon. She really loved the candle, although she hasn't lit it yet. I don't think scented candles are really popular here, so it is going to be interesting to see how much she uses it and if she likes it or if the smell is too overwhelming. Both boxes seemed to be kind of man handled- the corners are all beat up.

I love all of the Americana stuff my dad put in (flag stickers, patches, Oregon magnets, flags of different sizes, a huge pencil with the US postal service logo. . .), and am especially thankful for my shaving cream my family put in, too.  I think Arthur and Julia got a kick out of some of the patriotic things being made in China, and I had never really thought of it before.
My Aunt Michelle sent me hot chocolate- the ultra tasty Umqua kind. I had one of the vanilla ones. I told Julia she could have some, as I really wanted her to try it.
I followed the directions and put the whole pouch in my cup, so when Julia poured herself a little glass from my mug she exclaimed "AH SO SWEET!" and ran over and filled her cup with hot water. Hahahaa. Oh, the wacky Russians and their disdain for ultra sweetness!
My aunt and all of her children also wrote me cards. Jeremiah(one of the younger cousins) sent me a card and a pressed flower inside. Sooo sweet, considering I have a story with him and a flower close to my heart! He also sent me another envelope with just a small square of paper colored blue inside. It made everyone laugh when I opened it. He is such a funny kid.  One of his older sisters sent me a card that she decorated with beautiful hand-sewn flower designs.The other kids also wrote me cards, including the oldest boy. This I was kind of impressed by, since 14-year-old boys aren't usually so thoughtful. I also got cards and letters from my parents, grandparents, my mom's friends, and even my dogs. I really worried about my mother when I saw that I got a card from my two dogs. It was a funny card, but still. I really don't want to come home to a crazy dog lady.

I also love my birthday presents sent to me: a watch, earrings, sweaters, and a bracelet. Oh- and the candy! When I saw Recesses' and peanut-butter filled chocolate eyeball candy I hugged them, and Julia asked what they were.
I sighed "My FAVORITE конфеты (candy)!!!"
Which made her chuckle and say "just candy?!?"
I also got a small bag inside with Mentos and breath mints, as I have many favorite dishes here in Russia, most of which contain a substantial amount of garlic or onion. I must have raved about these dishes too much, because the bag had a little note that read "for your after-garlic breath."  I thought my day was made when I got home from school- and then it got totally made over again! Goodness me! So lucky! My parents didn't put a rush on the birthday package so it is just wonderful luck that I got both and only 2 days after my birthday. I for some reason have a hard time coming to grips with the fact that my family touched every single thing in these boxes! It is just crazy!

I also dreamed in Ranglish the night before. I dreamt that I went to Oregon for my Fall holiday in early/mid November. I kept trying super hard to communicate everyone in Russian, and they kept reminding me that they didn't know what the heck I was trying to say. But I kept forgetting and kept trying to use my Russian to communicate what I wanted, etc.  Weird, huh? I guess you can tell what was on my mind when I went to bed that night- my language! At my outbound Orientation, they said by the third month I should start dreaming in my new language. This is about as close as I think I am going to get for a while!

My host mom is such a character. She told me that the other day she was taking a trolleybus home from work. There was an Armenian boy waiting to get off on the same stop as her. He guzzled a bottle of Coca Cola and then got off. My host mom thought that he was going to throw the empty bottle on the street, so she followed him. Sure enough, around the first street corner he just threw it on the curb.
"Pick that up right now and put that into a trash can. It is just ahead!"
The boy stopped.
"I said pick that up right now!" He turned, picked it up, and stood, looking at her with angry eyes.
"Trash can."

He walked in the direction of the trash can, my host mother in tow. He kept checking behind him to see if she would make him good on his word. They got to the trash can, and he stood there, again with angry eyes, looking at her.
"Put."
He threw it away, and they went their separate ways. My host mom says he didn't talk back because it isn't his country. I wonder if it is because she is older than him and he has been raised better than to disrespect someone older than him. Or maybe it was because he was by himself and wasn't self-confident enough to argue. Either way, it is an interesting story, isn't it?
I really like that my host mother has the opinion that littering is bad. It is a big problem in Russia, but I hear it is slowly getting better. Maybe that boy won't do it anymore, or at least look over his shoulder the next time he does to make sure the Russian woman isn't there to make him do the right thing!