Pleasta Meecha

 Well, I was asked to write a blog post introducing myself for a class that I'm taking on John Milton, so I figured I would post it here as well just for fun. I am not a big guy on taking photos of myself, so any time I want to post one for a profile or whatever, I have to take one on the spot, so I've included an obligatory photo. I feel like when introducing themselves, most often people emphasize the same five or so things and then finish it all off with "something interesting" which invariably becomes nothing more than an extension of one of the first five things, so this time, I'm going to take a little bit of a different approach and share some things that not everyone might know. I hope you can get to know the everyday stuff about me from just regular interactions, here and in real life.

I am a technology enthusiast with reservations. I follow all sorts of cool new technologies, from transparent solar cells to 3D printers that can be used to print viable human tissue (to quote the oracle from Hercules, "...it's gonna be big"). I'm interested (though shamefully inexperienced) in lots of different forms of digital expression, from 2D art to filmmaking, and I'm really interested in reinterpretations of older forms, like spoken word poetry and the work of young and aspiring Youtube artists like Lindsey Stirling. It's secretly a dream to make a successful vlog or Youtube channel someday. I remain adamant, however, in my opinion that just because your phone is an egghead, mine doesn't have to be a "dumb phone" even though it's from 2005. I like a lot of the features of modern phones and stuff, but I know myself well enough to know that if I had a so-called "smart" phone, I would probably quickly get sucked into all the cool apps and other stuff. So, I stick with my museum-worthy RAZR. 

See, MSPaint isn't thaaaat bad...

Ever since I was 15 or so, I've wanted to develop a low-cost method of water purification for application in low-income areas. That's pretty much what made me want to study chemistry originally (that, and the prospect of going into food sciences and developing calorie-free Goldfish crackers so I could not feel bad about being practically addicted to them). I worked at a nature preserve for a summer and actually served on a municipal water council to raise awareness of water-born illness and to encourage "green" building techniques. Yep... closet hippie. Eventually, though, English called my name, so I can still be a hippie, just in different ways.

Magic, Monasteries, and Maslenitsa

The past while has been quite the adventure: that is for sure. I guess the highlight of the last month or

so has been Maslenitsa, but I'll save that for the end. My life over the past two weeks has been dominated by work and translation, and that's been good, I guess, but I am glad to have today as a break from it all. I decided to take my honors thesis in a new direction, so I'm now translating and analyzing Russian verbal charms, which has been a lot of fun. My analysis is based on the confluence of Christianity and paganism within these spells, which will likely be pretty apparent to you in the short charm that follows:

94. Charm against bleeding
In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. There is a sea-ocean, from the sea-ocean rides out a man so old, the steed beneath him brownish-gold, but thou, blood, stop for all time. For ever and ever. Amen.

Anyway, so that's that. It's been super interesting and super difficult at times, because a lot of the terms and ideas are pretty old. The texts themselves are from the 17th century, and I would say that I know only about half to two-thirds of the words. For the rest I spend forever guessing roots and modern variants and then looking them up in one of four or five dictionaries, both print and electronic. I've had some good success so far, though, and it's honestly been a lot of fun. I like the old, magic-esque quality that they all have. It seems right up my alley in terms of interests.

To Peter and Back Again

That is, in fact, a monkey in a sweater.

We arrived in St. Petersburg (henceforth, Peter, as it is referred to in Russian) on Thursday after a rather enjoyable train ride where all the Russians stared at the loud Americans for seven hours straight. We, of course, felt very flattered that others thought us so fascinating as to pay so much attention to us. We were supposed to stay at a hostel that night, which, if we had been in Western Europe, would have meant we spent the night with a bunch of backpackers, young tourists, and generally interesting people. Unfortunately, Peter didn't get the memo or something, because we walked in and it was fully of forty-five-year-old ex-cons in wife-beaters. We had joked before arriving that we would end up in some hole-in-the-wall place, one where there's a creepy guy in the corner who just stares at you and doesn't ever say a word. We coined the phrase "Kyrgyzstanian in the corner" based on its alliterative quality rather than as any statement about Kyrgyzstanians, who are some of the nicest people ever. Anyway, we didn't exactly have the "Kyrg in the corner" in mind when we got there, but it soon became much more relevant. Most of our new ex-con friends were pretty inebriated and didn't give us much of a problem, but there was one excessively friendly one who insisted on telling us that the Kyrgyzstanian in the other room had stabbed someone the week before, and the Kyrgyzstanian in the other room insisted on yelling at us. So, we decided that there wasn't reason to find out whether the rumor about the "knife fight" (as the friendly one put it) was true and ventured out to find somewhere else to stay.

More from Moscow

So, first off, I realize this is obscenely long, so feel free to browse, skim, read every 17th word, or do whatever else if you get bored of my rambling. I keep this in part for others but also as a way for me to be able to remember, so it goes into more depth than it might otherwise. In any case, this has been quite the week. We have now successfully located and eaten at three shaurma stands, one of which serves shaurma like they make in Dnepropetrovsk. Let's just say the french fries are a must. Hot sauce is also a major plus. These last few days have been really amazing in a lot of different ways. I guess I'll kind of start at the beginning and see where we end up after I blah-blah for a bit. 

Wednesday, we revisited the Temple of Christ the Savior, as the others hadn't yet seen it. I was honestly thinking that I'd rather go off and see something else instead, but I figured it wouldn't hurt to see the temple again, and we'll just say I wasn't disappointed. We got there and looked around for a bit before heading downstairs to the Temple of the Transfiguration of Christ, and we got there right as an evening service was beginning. The priest/cantor stood in the middle of the room, in an area partitioned off from the rest of the hall, and he sang the prayers before the iconostasis, which is basically a veil made of icons, separating the main court of the temple from what would have been referred to as the Holy of Holies in temples of early Judeo-Christian belief. I love listening to stuff like that: Old Slavonic prayers, the Latin liturgies, the Qur'an, the Torah during synagogue-- it all really speaks to me. Though in each of these I understand only a few words every once in while, I love the feeling that I get deep inside, and I love the look on everyone's faces and how their eyes get bright as if there's some hidden light that awakens at the call of the music. There in the temple, the cantor would chant his portions of the service, and then a choir, positioned off to the side, would chime in. I think Russian church choirs are some of my favorite. They're usually only four people-- two men and two women--, but they sing so beautifully, and when I think of what heavenly choruses will sound like, that's pretty much what I envision. Anyway, I was basically a thrall to the music. I could have stayed there forever and never grown tired of listening.

Back to the Wintry East

Today was a really good day. We had our first day of class, and our instructor cracks me up. She asks us lots of funny questions, but it's doing a lot to help us in terms of our grammar and our fluidity of speech. We talked to the internship coordinator today, and apparently, I'm supposed to have an interview scheduled by the end the week-- just waiting to hear a definite time from the Gogol Institute. Anyway, in that others were occupied with interviews, tracking down lost baggage, and other similar joys, Neils and I headed out to see some sights. We stopped at the Temple of Christ the Savior first off, and it was just breathtaking. I guess even though I've heard all along that it was one of the most beautiful temples in all of Eastern Orthodoxy, I didn't really expect to be effected to such an extent as when I walked in and saw the paintings on the ceiling. You quickly begin to understand that what faithful Russian Orthodox believers feel as God there really is God, that though maybe they believe differently than we do, it doesn't change in the slightest our Heavenly Father's love for them and desire for them to come unto Him and feel the peace that comes in living a life of goodness and faith. I'm not real big on the whole idea of kissing icons and lighting candles and all that, but I really did feel 'God' today.

The Temple of Christ the Savior is apparently above the Temple of the Transfiguration of Christ, so we took a spiral staircase underground into the second temple, equally magestic though in a completely different way. The art style was really unique, and while the first had primarily saints and apostles scattered around huge depictions of Christ, God, and the heavenly hosts, the latter had a lot more of Biblical interpretations. It took us a while to really figure out what some of the stuff was, but then things would just click, and it was a really cool unifying moment where I could look at the pictures and say, "That's us, too." It's hard sometimes, I guess, because we don't revere saints or patriarchs or metropolitans (city-wide bishops) or anything like that, so it feels like our histories kind of diverge and don't really come back together much at all. But being there, seeing those things, I thought to myself, "We're really not so different at all." I have so much respect for the nuns especially that work at all of the temples, and I'm understanding more and more God's love for all of His children.