The Association of Foreign Students

http://www.rggu.ru/news.html?id=72570

When this organization started two weeks, ago, it was little more than a bunch of worried students who couldn’t afford to have their rent raised.  And right now, to be honest, despite the press release, it’s little more than me teaching a few yoga classes and begging my fellow foreigners to come to a lecture or two.

I don’t think the foreign students around me really want to be organized in a club.  But everyone else on campus – Russian students, professors, and administrators – thinks they should be, and is very excited about this new development.  The power of organization in Russia is especially acute – after all, they’ve got a bit of a history of it.  So now, all of a sudden, as president of a ”soyuz” with the full support of the administration, I’ve won some new respect among the admin people of my dorm.  They’re all of a sudden very polite and, after previously claiming that there was no lounge in the entire building where foreign students could meet, gave me a key to a room with couches, tables, and a TV. 

It’s great for the club to have a meeting room.  Or, at the very least, for me to have my own yoga studio.

Have you ever seen a clock with a photo of Putin and Medvedev on the face of it?

This is what you're all getting for the holidays.

Have you ever seen a $600 gift basket?

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Now you have.

Moscow in a nutshell - an impossible contradiction between the heart-wrenchingly poor and stomach-turning rich.  This is best exemplified by a stroll through the isles of Gastronom #1, the grocery store located in the GUM.  What was once probably a rather depressing, rather plain grocery store is now one of the most exquisite, and by far the most expensive, grocery store I've ever been in.

Okay, so it’s really only $595.64

Aisle in G!

This jar of jam costs $23.00

Tanya, control yourself

Now you have.

But let’s give these folks a little bit of credit – the $600 gift basket does come with a bottle of champagne, whereas the $450 gift basket only has a bottle of white wine.

Moscow in a Nutshell

Old.  New.  Traditional.  Modern.  All in the same glance, everywhere you look.

Movin’ on up

Old and New in Kitai Gorod

Kitai Gorod

GUM at night

Kiosks and church at Park Pobedi

Near Tverskaya Ulitsa

Self-Portrait

View 1

Full View

View 3

My view of myself, post-Yom Kippur

Yom Kippur

Thursday, October 7 2008 The Streets of Moscow, Sometime before sundown

Russia is a country where you aren’t just Jewish.  Something about the churches, the streets, the air, the history, makes you feel your Jewishness, and you are reminded of it at every step. 

Having let Rosh Hashanah pass me by, I was determined to not let the same happen to the most sacred of Jewish holidays.  I told my professors that Thursday, October 7, I would not be teaching class.  I told my friends no, I could not get together with them that day.  I ate a good meal as the sun set on Wednesday, and I prepared myself, physically, mentally, and hungrily, for the day of repentance.

Now, I was not raised a religous Jew.  I learned to both love and question the tenents of religion, to suspend absolute belief in a way that ensured freedom and critical aptitude of my mind.  At the same time I was taught to maintain an enormous respect for my peoples’ traditions, their beliefs, their past and their present. 

My observance of Yom Kippur 2008 exemplifies how this dichotomy manifests itself in my life: 

I was determined to partake in the holiday, but I had to Google “Yom Kippur” to figure out exactly when it was.  I was determined to fast, but as the day dawned I quickly decided that the Torah permitted the drinking of coffee. 

I spent the first couple of hours lying in bed reading Exodus – that is, “Exodus” by Leon Uris - and then set out to take a cleansing, reflective walk.  This, by the way, is a long-held Chase family tradition.  From one end of Moscow to another, as the wind blew and the leaves fell in droves from the trees, I let it move through me.  I let it help me reconnect myself with myself.  I also carried on the eternal debate that rages within the hearts of many Jews - the debate about whether or not drinking Diet Coke counts as breaking the Sabbath.    

Full of curiosity for how Judaism manifests itself in Russia, I sought out a synagogue, respectfully pulled my scarf from my neck and covered my head as I went in.  For about ten minutes I was captivated by the scene before me.  I was filled with wonder at the unveiling of the Torah, the ceremony, the ancient history and present community around me.  I was overwhelmed by the beautiful connection that we shared. 

So full of joy was I, and so desirous of sharing that magic with those I love that, after about ten minutes, I was kicked out of synagogue for trying to sneak a photo.  Fortunately it was Yom Kippur, and I could spend the next hour repenting for any offense I caused anyone.   This was interspersed with bouts of self-argument about the legitimacy of ingesting Diet Coke while on the fast.

After this incident I hopped on the metro and headed to the World War II memorial at Victory Park (notice I don’t say Holocaust – neither do the Russians), and spent part 2 of Yom Kippur in much the same manner as I spent part 1.  The sun came out, the day was beautiful, the leaves were golden and my head was light.  Sometime around 3:00 I decided that Diet Coke also didn’t count as breaking the fast, and at 5:00 I decided it was sunset somewhere, and time to dig in. 

The rest of the evening was spent in journalling and quiet reflection.  At the end of it, I turned on my cell phone, pulled out my computer, and got back into things.

The traditional Chase family Yom Kipppur Walk

Yom Kippur

Yom Kippur, Part 2 – Park Pobedi

Tsereteli’s Monument

MSH