Pizza Night, Russian-Style

I’m not exactly sure when the Reynolds’ family pizza night tradition began. My earliest memory is probably New Year’s Even with Terrie, Jon and the kids in Richmond, Virginia, making pizzas for our grand game night celebration.

During college, my friends and I gathered at least once or twice each vacation at my house to make pizza together.

 

Circa May 2009?

Yes, that is a pizza in the shape of the letter "L", for "Liz" or "Liza" depending on which language you speak to me!

I guess it seemed only natural to transfer the tradition over to my new home in Vladivostok. Especially because Aus was visiting.

Friday night, I invited the whole gang over and set about trying to recreate what Mom and I have gotten down to a fine art. Homemade dough, homemade sauce and tons of veggie toppings were all obligatory, of course.

 

That's the two Reynolds' children in the back, with Masha and Vasilisa in the front (of my very own kitchen!).

Masha had had a dance concert that night and looked stunningly gorgeous for her 9 years. Vasilisa alternated between helping to make her own pizza and trying to make my non-functioning TV in the living room work.

 

The kids' pies.

Austin, as is usual, perfectly formed the crust for the adults’ pizza. I also have to add that he made the sauce all by himself. College is teaching him more than just Chinese and African History!

 

Such a big boy!

As a housewarming gift, Yulya brought me a traditional box of chocolates that apparently are associated exclusively with this region of Russia. Below she is actually feeding Austy one, proving how freaking good those chocolates are.

 

They became quick friends...can't you tell?

The culmination of the evening without a doubt was when Yulya discovered an honest-to-God sewing machine in my kitchen! It’s one of those pedal-operated ones that folds under the table, explaining why I had previously wondered why there was a random empty cabinet sitting next to my kitchen stove.

 

What would I do without her? Not sew anything ever, is the answer to that question.

The evening was a resounding success. Even Sasha agreed that the (thin-crust) pizza was much better this time.

And as an aside, Austin (who is now en route to Moscow) and I would like to announce a little business venture we’ve decided to embark on this coming summer.

It involves grinding nuts in to nut butter, mixing said butter with delicious things like chocolate, dried fruit or cinnamon, and selling each variant in pretty jars at farmers’ markets all over Knoxville.

 

Filling my first full jar of homemade almond butter!

Last week I was lamenting that the tin of almond butter Mom brought me from Earthfare was already nearing its end. My friend Sasha offered me his blender and an idea was formed. Aus and I spent several hours one day this week figuring out the best way to approach homemade almond butter. And after a few hits and misses (and a bit of Googling) we hit pay dirt.

The magical blender, we affectionately named "Big Phil".

For all you doubters out there, Aus and I already shook hands on this entrepreneurial endeavor of ours and we’ll go ahead and start taking orders in the comment section of this very post!

 

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A Russian Brother

Today after yoga, Yulya told Austin that his accent was better than mine, his RUSSIAN accent. This is because in the 48 hours my brother has been living with me in Vladivostok, he’s taught himself at least twenty words. And the Russian alphabet. Can you hear the pride in my voice? You should, because it’s there.

That little whippersnapper flew 27 hours, through Paris and Moscow, just to spend fewer than five days with little ole me. We’ve made the most of it though.

He got in on Monday afternoon and by five o’clock we were already teaching my yoga class English. Tuesday my friend Misha took us on a grand tour of the city (pictures forthcoming) and showed us places I had never seen in my seven months here.

 

Discovering the trash chute in my new apartment building!

Yes, Aus has fit right in, I must say. Even in the (all too frequent) cases where I am not directly translating whatever is going on around us, quite often he is picking up out of context what the general conversation is about or sometimes, even exactly what is being said.

 

A shot of me in my spring (coat-less!) attire, in front of my new apartment building!

As food is important to this still-growing, muscle-y 19 year-old, I’ve tried to keep him well-fed also.

Tuesday night Aus and I tried out a new pizza recipe I found online. Although my new kitchen doesn’t have much, I did remember to bring over my springform pan which fit perfectly for the Chicago-style deep-dish pizza we were going for.

The master chef himself.

Sasha also came over, mostly because he didn’t believe that we could make pizza at home.

He's upset because he likes a thin crust, which this certainly was not.

Aus and I thought the finished product was nothing short of amazing….Sasha, not so much. Fortunately for everyone we’re repeating our pizza-making adventures later in the week with Yulya and family.

Although Aus is only here til Saturday, I’m pretty certain that we’ll find something else interesting to do and post about in his remaining time!

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A Russian Apartment Primer

I would have stayed with Sveta and Yura in our three-room apartment until the end of June. That was my original intent. But the world had other plans it seems. The earthquake in Japan sent Sveta’s two daughters and their three young girls, all Tokyo residents, to our apartment (still three rooms!) on Thursday. Honestly, I was really glad that they had somewhere to go and that Sveta somehow managed to nab them some airplane tickets, as now there are none left.

However, eight people in three rooms was not my ideal scenario for the remainder of my academic year here in Vladivostok. According to my journal, I decided on Tuesday that I was moving out, and thus began my introduction to finding housing in Russia. I didn’t really approach it as a problem, and probably as a result it wasn’t really a problem at all.

They’ve got a website here, kinda like Craigslist (kinda not), and I went about calling probably forty different “real estate agencies.” I’m using the quotes here because I quickly found out that these “agencies” are more like two or three people who rent a room in an office building and compete against similarly situated “agencies” for apartments and clients. It was all extremely interesting to learn about. Very quickly word got out that an American girl was looking for an apartment and after that my phone was ringing off the hook with propositions.

I ended up looking at three apartments on Thursday and took the third and final one I looked at. Most Russians in any city live in apartments. That’s basically all that’s available unless you want to live an hour outside the city limits. As a result, apartment culture is pretty well-ingrained here. Most apartments are extremely small, and called one-roomed apartments because they literally have just one small room, plus a kitchen and a bathroom. I looked at two one-roomed apartments, didn’t like them, then, chanced upon a three-roomed apartment for slightly more money.

I threw caution to the wind, paid my deposit and Friday afternoon, Sasha, Yulya and I were packing up the assortment of crap I’ve collected in the past 7 months and toting it across the street and up to the fourth floor.

My bedroom with a great view of a traditional Russian church for the window and balcony!

The living room that I've split in half with those chairs. It's part yoga studio and part closet.

The second bedroom (where Aus will sleep in two days!) that will basically just be used for storing the amazing array of shit I've collected in Russia!

The poorly-equipped, but altogether lovely, kitchen where I'll be baking the entire spring!

There’s no way I can lie and say that living alone isn’t awesome. It is awesome, and particularly well-suited for this particular time in my life I would say.

The internet connection is better here. I have a senile neighbor who knocks on my door to ask what day of the week it is. And I can still walk to work, to yoga and to the same market. All in all, I’m a pretty lucky duck and life is pretty swell.

Today the high was 7 degrees Celsius (maybe 45 in Fahrenheit?). It might’ve well as been 65 degrees because that’s how warm it felt to me. New living situation or not, I hope your first day of spring (the 21st for all my Americans, if I’m not mistaken) is a wonderful day!

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St. Patty’s Day Magic

Change is in the air. I’ll be filling everyone in on that more in the next few days. But if today is any indication, this spring is going to be a season of even more self-reflection and self-growth for me, as if that were even possible.

Mom sent me these pictures from Knoxville a couple days after she returned home. She wrote that she woke up after her marathon trip from Vladivostok–>Seoul–>Chicago–>Knoxville and thought that it had snowed overnight.

Knoxville's "snow"!

I guess the Bradford pear trees had bloomed during her week abroad and she returned home to a world of flowery whiteness.

Meanwhile, back in Russia, we’ve had snow the past two days. Honestly though it’s been the most beautiful snowstorms I’ve seen. The one on Tuesday was so thick that it looked like I was inside a snow globe that someone had just shaken up.

The final months of this Russian adventure are continuing to treat me well and I hope the same is true of the spring months for you as well.

Happy St. Patrick’s Day, America!

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Sunday Blini

Mama’s last day in Vladivostok was a Sunday and, quite frankly, Sundays are my favorite day of the week, for several reasons really.

Usually I do absolutely nothing on Sunday mornings. I might go to the market or grade some papers, but I’m equally as likely to just sit and read and listen to music all morning long. Mama and I had a very lazy Sunday morning, in which she whipped up some banana coconut muffins in the brand-new muffin pan I bought especially for her visit.

About mid-day, we set off for my friend Yulya’s apartment. The weather was downright balmy by Vladivostok standards, so we ended up walking about an hour across town, passing right through the center.

Vasilisa, Masha and Mama with her first taste of Russian blini!

We arrived at Yulya’s to find that she had been whipping up some magic of her own in the kitchen, a type of Russian pancake called blini. They’re much thinner and more porous than American pancakes and you traditionally wrap them up into thirds with some kind of jam, sour cream or honey on the inside.

She says she's a bad housewife, but everyone knows that's just an act!

Besides the blini, which were a special treat for Mama, we had a typical Sunday afternoon with Yulya’s family, a routine I’ve adopted in the past couple months. Usually there’s some kind of yoga pose involved.

Here Masha is demonstrating a pose that I'm pretty sure would murder my spine.

Usually, Vasilisa is not only naked, but also dancing, and this Sunday was no different.

Here we're watching a Moscow ballet on TV and Vasilisa is re-enacting the show for us!

There’s always a lot of hugging.

Sundays with Yulya.

And a final dancing shot.

Basically, Mom got to see my life here. She met people, tried Russian food, learned some Russian and really enjoyed herself here. I think she shares my opinion that there’s really nothing not to like here. Being content where you are is probably all a state of mind anyways, right?

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Thursday Through Saturday with Mama

I’ll start off by saying that the earthquake/tsunami in Japan hasn’t affected us here in Vladivostok at all. I don’t think I would have even known it happened except that my host mother’s twin daughters live in Japan with their Japanese families. Everyone on that front is fine though.

When not reading the BBC for more details about Japan, Mom and I have been digging deeper into my Russian life here. She has been my faithful companion this week, diligently attending all my classes and usually participating in them as well.

My American Corner group on in the public library's computer room.

On Thursday evening, Mom accompanied me to my weekly class teaching at the public library. This week I chose four semi-famous/eccentric Americans to discuss: Ralph Nader, Brigham Young, Margaret Mead, and Sam Walton.

She also met my Int’l Affairs students in my morning classes with them on Wednesdays, Thursdays and Fridays. We regularly have pretty spirited debates in that class and it seemed like she really enjoyed seeing the perspective of my students on a range of issues.

My kids debating the decision to raise children in Russia.

We’ve also done a lot of walking. Those staircases I referenced earlier are ubiquitous in my life here and really that’s not such a bad thing. Mom’s gotten really well-oriented with the city already, pretty mostly as a result of the fact that we walk everywhere!

That's my apartment building in the background. Please note that I am wearing my FALL coat! We've been reaching +1 degree Celsius this week!

Saturday I took Mom along with me to our breathing class in the morning. Then my friend Sergei invited us over to his apartment for lunch prepared by his wife Lusya, an excellent cook, fortunately for us!

Lusya and Mom in front of the table overloaded with yummy vegetarian dishes.

Although Mom speaks exactly two words (three if I remind her of the third) of Russian, she has been most adept at communicating with people throughout the week. Lusya speaks some English, as does Sergei, and it’s really amazing how much conversation can arise from good intentions, some hand gestures, and a few mutually-intelligible words. Sergei showed Mom probably upwards of 200 pictures and narrated the whole time without me in the room. To say we enjoyed our visit with them would be an understatement.

Our second tea of the visit!

And finally Sergei offered to drive Mom and I to the end of the peninsula south of the city to see the view and the lighthouse from the edge of my city. The weather today was not sunny for the first day of Mom’s visit, but the views were still incredible. I’m even a bit more knowledgeable about which way the Pacific Ocean really faces now.

Pointing toward Russian Island where THE summit will be held next summer.

Sergei and me at the edge of the world I guess?

So Mom’s got one more day left here in Russia. We’ll most likely spend it baking something, reading, crocheting (Mom at least will) and eating some kind of Russian delicacy. She flies back to the States via Korea, so there shouldn’t be any problems due to the northern Japan devastation. I know Glenn will be glad to get her back!

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Martha Visits Vlad

When I left my mom way back in September, her visit in the spring seemed like an eternity away.

Much to my surprise, March 6th seemed to pop out of nowhere and suddenly, my mother was here, with me, walking the streets of Vladivostok, riding buses, doing yoga and drinking American wine with my host mother Sveta in the kitchen as I’m writing this post.

Every so often, I’ve been turning my head, looking at her sideways and then remembering that, yes, my American mother really is here, right next to me in Russia. It’s pretty swell.

She’s already gotten a pretty good taste of my life. Including International Women’s Day, March 8th.

Because I didn’t have to work on Tuesday, in celebration of our womanhood, Mom and I toured around downtown Vladivostok.

 

The first picture proving Mom is in Russia. With a huge floral display, celebrating everything great about femininity!

I showed her the oceanside amusement park area, which is where people swim in the summertime.

Very likely Mom's first experience walking on a frozen body of water.

We walked a ways out to where some Russian men chose to celebrate Int'l Women's Day with some ice fishing!

After our ice adventure, somehow I was picked from a crowd to come up and dance to different types of music. The DJ of course hadn’t anticipated picking a foreigner out of the masses. We both handled the shock pretty well though. I even got some free soap out of the deal!

Dancing up a storm in public places, my favorite way to celebrate being a woman!

To regain our strength after the dancing, Mom and I visited a British bakery in town where we warmed up and enjoyed pretending like we were in London.

Typical British tea and cheesecake!

We also found a frozen yogurt store that just opened downtown and tried to relive all of our TCBY memories there.

Then we visited one of the many churches to be found around Vladivostok. This was a typical Russian Orthodox church, and Mom’s first encounter with those golden domes that so typify Russian culture.

 

We took it ourselves!

And finally, from our holiday together, Mom fell in love with the stairs and walkways that basically compose my life here. When I say I climb 13 flights of stairs to get to work, I’m really not kidding. This is just one of the sets!

Mom's already noticed that Russians don't have as much of a weight problem as Americans.

So that was our Tuesday everyone. Besides this, Mom’s been trailing me at work. We’ve been to yoga twice, to eat at our vegetarian restaurant twice and now, as I’m writing this very sentence, Sveta is dramatically looking through a dictionary trying to explain to Mom exactly what she does for a living. Russian culture at its best.

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The Russian Home Life

I haven’t gotten in to too many details about the family I live with here in Russia. There are quite a few reasons for that, but mostly just that people deserve privacy.

Yura and Sveta have made my life very interesting at times though. Especially after I got back from Europe, things have been a bit different. Yura’s becoming more and more forgetful, and as a result, rarely leaves the apartment. This has allowed us to interact more with each other though, and I’ve actually really liked getting to talk with him throughout the day.

He enjoys monitoring my every move, and I could definitely never deprive him of this form of entertainment.

Anyways, out of my relatively-newfound love for Yura, I baked him a cake this past weekend in honor of his 74th birthday on the 28th of February. We, as in the three of us, were to celebrate his existence on Monday evening in traditional Russian fashion. This involves setting a pretty elaborate table with the best china and an array of tasty foods. Sveta even made a point to whip up several salads just for me and my “vegetarianism” (in quotes because I’m becoming more lax about that…).

 

Our table, the centerpiece of any Russian celebration.

And good thing I’m becoming more lax about my vegetarianism, because in that “vegetable pizza” you’ll note on the right, there were noticeable and not very small chunks of pork! All jokes aside, the food was delicious and Sveta did an excellent job preparing.

 

Sveta and her friend Tamara, who not coincidentally teaches English at my university's high school.

Of course, there were many a toast with some kind of berry-flavored cognac, but the best part of the evening by far was when this happened.

 

Yura and Sveta, in a rare show of affection.

Before we began the meal, Yura took Sveta into the living room and sang an old WWII love song while they danced together.

Living with a family that you’re unrelated to is a really interesting situation. I’ve learned more about these two people and their relationship than I know about most of my close friends. It’s probably fair to say I’ve seen them at their worst and at their best and it’s been one of the best learning experiences of my life. No joke.

Even though I know they took me in, not out of the goodness of their hearts, but for the financial incentive, it’s a huge risk to let a foreigner (or anyone really) live with you, and I’m going to close by saying that my hat’s off to both of them for giving me the best room in the apartment, my very own refrigerator drawer, and a little insight in to the state of the human condition.

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