I am NEVER complaining about snow in DC ever again

Tuesday, 9:30 pm. Holiday! The name of today’s cause for celebration is variously translated as “Russian Army Day,” “Military Day,” “Victory Day,” etc., etc. It’s also considered Men’s Day in general, even if the men in question aren’t part of the armed forces. In any case, it’s a national holiday, so no classes for me and none for Lyudmila Afanasyevna. I slept late (woohoo!) and once again got out of the shower to find Olya having a chemistry lesson. If it’s a day off for her, that just means she’s not missing any classes to come to St. Petersburg from Pskov, so I gather. Somewhere around 1, a pair of my host mom’s friends showed up, and the three of them gathered in the kitchen while Olya and I stayed in the living room and talked for quite some time. She speaks very good English for a Russian teenager, even if she doesn’t think so herself, and I speak in Russian when I can. I think I may have made a genuine friend here, which makes me really happy. :D

The weather was beautiful today—and when I say beautiful, I mean near zero Celsius and not actively precipitating—so of course we had to go do something out in the city. About three o’clock, I left to rendezvous with Erica, Matt, and Irena at St. Isaac’s Cathedral. This church doesn’t have services anymore; instead, it’s the state Museum of Religious History (or maybe just religion). Primarily, it’s a museum of breathtaking art and soaring, shiny architecture…the word ‘shiny’ feels out of place in that sentence, but it’s true. Thankfully, though, they didn’t overdo the shiny in this one. I can only compare it to the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception in Washington, which looks like the entire contents of the Fort Knox vault were melted down for the purpose of decorating this one church. In St. Isaac’s, it’s richly decorated, but not overwhelming. It just…works so well. I’m stumbling over the description, but if I ever figure out a way to post photos on here, that’ll work much better.

When I got off the trolleybus at St. Isaac’s, the sky was its normal grayish-white, but the weather was clear and calm. By the time I had found the ticket office about two minutes later, the wind had picked up and it had started to snow. By the time I actually bought my ticket, another two minutes later, the snow was blowing all over the place; we would call this type of weather “blizzard conditions” back home. When the four of us climbed the two hundred stairs to the cathedral’s colonnade, the snow was flying fast enough to blind anyone not wearing glasses, and the wind was blowing hard enough to make you reconsider leaning over the handrail to take a picture. Of course, even with much of the city practically whited out, we couldn’t resist the view. The panorama of St. Petersburg from St. Isaac’s is a photographer’s dream. On a clear day, I’m sure you could see for several miles from there; I could probably pick out my apartment block without even squinting too hard. Absolutely marvelous.

When we left the cathedral, it was still snowing furiously, so what did we decide to do? Go walk some more! Actually, it wasn’t bad; we just made our way back to Nevsky and to this little café that one of Matt’s Russian acquaintances had recommended. I don’t remember how this came up, but at some point before I left, I was talking with Mom and Dad about Russian food. The mention of hot powdered-sugar-covered donuts came up, and Dad recommended I bring home a few. Well, I found them today, Dad. They’re called pishki, and they’re the specialty of this tiny little café on Bolshaya Konnushenaya Ulitsa. The café itself is just called Pishki; they’re that famous. The closest comparison I can make is to fresh funnel cake, but slightly softer, and in donut form. They’re absolutely heavenly, especially coming in out of that kind of weather, and they’re only ten rubles a pop—three for a dollar. :D Nobody looks at you twice if you order six (I’m looking at you, Matt). They even served coffee that was diluted with enough milk and sugar that I actually enjoyed it. I suspect that once word of this place gets around, it’s going to become quite the hangout.

The four of us stayed in Pishki talking and munching for a good two hours, but alas, it came time to head home. Whoever was up for further exploring was vehemently denied by those of us who were sick of the blowing ice pellets. The three girls dropped Matt at the metro and took the trolleybus home, where Lyudmila Afanasyevna greeted me with spaghetti for dinner (with just cheese and butter—Russian-style spaghetti!) and several cups of tea. She’s going to her dacha for her day off tomorrow, while I have class and then English teaching in the evening, so she’s left several pots on the stove for me. Tomorrow: Russian Civilization, then Russian chorus (!). We’ll see if we’ve managed to recruit more than two malchiki since last week. :)