Michael McFaul, the Post Office, and Another Dead Man

Last Monday I had the opportunity to attend a lecture at the European University where the US ambassador spoke.  The next day in my international security class we discussed what he had to say.  My professor who had met him before said that his values and priorities still seem to be the same as they were several years ago but she was disturbed by how much he thought Russians didn’t understand the American culture.  When discussing politics with Russians I often get the same response along the lines of that they don’t like how politicians (of any country) seem to poorly represent a country.  Most Russians I have talked to don’t know much about American culture but I would be lying if I said I knew everything about Russian culture before I came.  I guess my point is that while the Ambassador wants Russians to be more aware of American values I think it is just as important that Americans are more aware of Russian values and culture.

After circling the building I found the correct entrance to the post office and was on my way to pick up the anticipated package from my mom.  The post office is huge and kind of reminds me of an old American train station.  When you walk in you are in a huge room that have about 50 different windows each with its own number (that randomly flash on and off).  I had no idea what to do and there were hardly any signs that might have indicated where to go.  After finding the foreign window I handed my package slip to the woman behind the window and she went to get my package.  She came back holding a giant size trash bag that she began to tear open.  She thought it was so funny how such a small package ended up in such a big bag and could not stop laughing.  She was one of the funniest Russians I have met so far.  Not the most exciting story, I know, but walking in the post office felt like a metaphor for my life here in Russia.  Nothing is clear, there isn’t always someone to ask for help, but eventually you find the right window and can have a good laugh at yourself in the end.

It’s sad that this is the second time I am writing about a dead man in less than a month.  Today as I was walking in my neighborhood I noticed a man sitting in the snow.  He caught my attention because I thought it was weird someone was sitting in the snow or better yet slush since it’s starting to warm up.  I quickly realized that he was sitting there because there was a man who had either died or been killed lying in the snow.  I had to stop walking because I literally couldn’t breath and couldn’t even speak to tell the friend I was walking with why I had stopped.  I barely had the courage to keep walking since I knew I would have to get literally feet from the situation.  I do not know if the man knew the deceased or not but from what it looked like he had found him lying there and then turned him over to see if he was alive.  I almost hope he didn’t because I am slightly disturbed by this aspect of the Russian culture and his sacrifice sitting in the slush as it started to snow with the dead man would show a sense of humanity towards the situation.  

I think it is safe to say that Russians (from an American perspective) have a reputation for being cold and unfriendly.  On Thursday I was in a café/restaurant where you generally share tables with other people because its usually crowded and the tables are pretty big.  The table I was at was comprised of my friends and a woman by herself.  The woman ordered something close to fried dough and didn’t realize how much she would get.  She offered us what she couldn’t finish which in itself was a nice gesture.  Then maybe because we ate her leftovers so quickly she ordered us two more plates, paid and left.  It was one of the nicest gestures I have ever received.  On top of that, last night my friends and I were walking to the bus stop when someone gave my friend and I a rose.  Touched by her kindness, we gave the rose to a new bride that we past later in the evening.

Lastly, GO ORANGE!!