St. Petersburg Fashion

Oh man, Russian students - Russian girls in general! - set totally different standards in fashion. Walk down Nevski Prospekt -which takes like an hour! It's freaking long!- and you will see 80% of Russian girls in high heels (you need to skillfully take away tourists, as well as they are masqueraded) and around 50% of them in hotpants or skirts that end well before the knee. And they are skinny. Mostly though, they need to hold on to a strong arm of their guy in order to even keep balance, which sort of sadly destroys the image of the fierce and independent woman. Nevertheless, St. Petersburg makes me feel perpetually under/wrongly dressed. Case in point: Today. The weather - blue sky in the morning (but it won't fool me again! That was the case on Saturday too and it rained throughout the day!). The wear - skirt with tights (babushka approved) and a shirt, but towing the rain jacket and umbrella along, cuz you never know. What would I have needed? A bikini, since after our first class, we discovered a beach where an astonishing amount of St. Petersburgians were exhibiting an astonishing amount of naked skin trying to reap the sun rays as long as the sun shone. Did it rain? Of course not. I mean, I had my umbrella with me.

From Berlin to St. Petersburg

So, why does the Berlin ground personnel have to strike exactly - exactly - the one morning I need them to do their job? Why? After spending a sleepless night imagining me stranded in various locations with various means of getting to St. Petersburg (catching the train from Moscow? Flying over Riga? Taking a cruise up? Okay, that would be fun), I then did take off and arrive in time, probably because all the Easy-jet flights were simply cancelled. Oh no, though benefitting from it, I found the solution to be quite acceptable.

Now just a few first impressions cause my time is running out:

Russia:

1. If you smile without reason on the street, you are taken for an idiot. Do not smile.

2. Hotpants and stilettos are perfectly acceptable for 12 degree Celsius rainy weather.

3. Follow, always, the advice (strict advice) of your Russian babushka host mom, and you'll be fine.

4. If you smile and don't talk in the admissions office, you are taken for an idiot as well, but one who cannot communicate either. Avoid that.

5. Taking an admissions test of 170 questions and 1 hour length, just to be put in the class that you were supposed to be in anyways, is perfectly acceptable. Don't question.

6. If you are yelled at in Russian, just get up/out of the way/stop whatever you are doing and say a doe-eyed 'Izvinite'. Don't question.

Following these tips, you should be fine in Russia as of my latest experiences. It basically runs down to - do not smile without reason and do not question the system. Pretty basic, if you think it over.

Poka!

Day 11 - Still Budapest

How better to start a day in the Hungarian capital than with a thermal bath in the hot springs that it sits on? I got up early extra to spend another 2 hours lazing around in the 36 to 39 degree Celsius water, and let me tell you, it is so. worth. it. I decided to go to the Gellert bath, which is one of the better-known baths and was on my way into the city, and man, you have the impression of swimming in an aristocratic mansion or so, what with the columns surrounding the pool and the mosaics of the hot-water tubs. Another great thing about coming early in the morning ist that the baths are completely free of tourists, and instead, you can do the best people-watching of old Hungarian grannies plunging into the water, careful to keep their hairdoes dry, and dignified retirees discussing world matters over at the bubbly end.

From there, I took another walking tour of the city, which ended up visiting most of the same places I had seen the days before, but offering interesting insights in Hungarian history (they were occupied so often I lost track), technology (they are super proud of many many inventions) and culture. In the afternoon, having foregone the chance of visiting the parliament because apparently you have to be there at 8 am sharp to get tickets, I decided to visit the market hall instead and was rewarded with another astonishing view of produce, meat and cheese stands without end, while the upper levels have an overwhelming assortiment of souvenirs, especially table-cloths and the like which are obviously all hand-made by Hungarians. Yeah... And then was already the night train to catch (I was so nervous I'd miss it with unexpected traffic on the streets of Budapest and a nightmarish downpour) and onward the journey went. I'll be back, Budapest! I promise!

Day 10 - Budapest

Budapest has so so much to offer that you have to make concessions. So I decided to follow my interests and take the 'Hammer and Sickle' walking tour that brought me and an Australian girl with a personal guide (lol) to the Memento Statue Park, where Socialist statues that were removed from the city centre were brought after 1989 to act for informational and commemorative purposes. Though it was advertized as a 'Socialist theme park', it was actually less touristy than I had feared, except for the baby blue Trabant that stood in the corner for people to sit in and the (rather small) 'Red Star' souvenir shop which sold all kinds of paraphenelia. On one hand, I felt that people taking ridiculous pictures with these statues was a little tasteless, since each of these statues offered memories of hardships suffered, or at least of a certain historical event. On the other hand, maybe that at last shows that people have overcome the taboo-ish aspect of the Socialist past and can now see the comicality in it? Already in Socialist times, the allegorical statues received really funny nicknames like 'the Spa warden' about a guy who looks as if he was running behind somebody who had forgotten their towel, or 'Another beer!' about a guy that stretches his hand into the air energetically (Fotos to follow!).

After this interesting tour, I walked up the Andrassy avenue (the Champs-Elysee of Budapest) and found the city park - and apparently all the city's inhabitants. It was a holiday and everybody was hanging out in the sun, playing ball games, and just having the time of their lives. So I just joined in with gusto! In the evening, after a quick trip up the Castle Hill (the picturesque little streets were nice, but I had already seen similar ones so often.. But the Fishermen's Bastion with its little turrets was great!), I had a snack and chat with an interesting Jordanian guy before returning back to the hostel and watching most of 'Into the Wild'... which gives a whole other direction to the term of backpacking...

Days 8 and 9 - Pecs and Budapest

Wow, the last few days didn't leave me a lot of time at a computer! I'll keep these posts short and sweet and expand once I have better access.

After arriving in Pecs, I just discovered the city with a Hungarian girl a little that taught me a little of the language and a lot about the typical (I hear, at least the dude at my hostel told me so) Hungarian pessimism. Despite studying in Budapest and going on study trips to Greece and the lot, she seemed to think that she didn't have any possibilities to work in her field, and talked longingly of the time she spent jobbing in London. I wondered later on whether the situation in the country is that hopeless or whether her mindset was responsible for her feelings. A bit of both, I'm sure.
Pecs is sweet and has a beautifully done-up city center. However, although it is one of the three 2010 European Culture Capitals, half of the museums were closed due to renovations. Apparently they were extremely behind schedule, and a lot of the EU money just disappeared without a trace. According to Hunor, the extremely helpful and knowledgeable staff member at the Big Fish hostel I talked with a looong time about Hungarian politics and everything else, corruption is still widespread and politics is especially marred in this pessimistic feeling of 'we can't do anything anyway'. And that with extremist groups gaining power...
I jogged up to the TV tower which offered a stunning view of Pecs and the Hungarian countryside, then came down and walked round the city a bit until a thunderstorm made me seek refuge in a museum and then in the hostel. A sold-out folk concert meant that I spent my evening at the hostel as well (other than a reaggae festival, there wasn't that much going on..), but it was really fun times talking to fellow travellers and exchanging views over some home-brewed wine which the hostel owner brought over in the course of the evening...

The next day, I left for Budapest and spent my time in the train dozing (the night had been short) and occasionally snatching glimpses of gorgeous stretches of nature. Budapest was big, confusing, exhilarating after these few small-town days, but after finding my hippie-esque hostel in the Buda section of town, I set out exploring, climbed up to the Citadel for yet another great view (I'm really getting into hiking here!) and slowly made my way over the chain bridge and by the St. Istvan Cathedral to the Opera, where for 900 Forint (about 3 Euros) I experienced a great performance of the 'Barber of Sevilla'. I mean, it would've helped if I had read the story in beforehand, or if the subtitles hadn't been in Hungarian... But who wants to complain...