Our heroine six weeks into her journey

 

And still going strong . . .

Stretching at Tsaritsino

Runaway Tay

Just Tay

A Runner’s Guide to Moscow

Ismailovski path

Ismailovsky Pond

Ismailovsky Dock

Path at Tsaritsino

Tsaritsino

Small Child at Tsaritsino

When I first got to Moscow, one of the first things I did was go for a run.  I left my dorm, jogged down crowded sidewalks, dodged left and right to avoid vendors, jumped to avoid being hit by cars.  I choked on air pollution, got stuck in the rain, and ended up finishing the last mile riding on the metro. 

The second thing I did in Moscow was buy a gym membership. 

Little did I realize that there are actually some great runs to be had in Moscow.  Due to the unusually gorgeous fall weather, I decided to give running a second chance, and have actually come across some fantastically awesome places.  Izmailovsky Lesopark is one place you can cruise through for hours, and the storied paths of Tsaritsino are both a runner’s and a historians paradise.

You can have a fantastic running experience in Moscow; you just have to go about running in a different way.  For one, you can’t just go for a run.  You don’t leave your house, saunter down the road for about 20 minutes, and come home with a smile on your face.  No, you have to commit to taking a run.  You have to find a park, scope out area and possible routes.  You have to figure out which metro line it’s on, go to the metro stop, go down the escalator (which, as we already said, takes time), travel to that place, get up and out of the metro.  Only then can you start your workout. 

So you don’t want to go through all of that for a 20-minute stint to get your blood going.  If you’re going for a run you’re going for a run.  You have to eat a good breakfast, hydrate beforehand, dress appropriately and plan to be gone for a long time.   Once you get to Ismailovsky or Tsaritsino you’ll find yourself in gorgeous territory, and you’ll want to enjoy it for at least an hour, if not more.  Then, you have to get back to where you started.  Escalator, metro, street.  Going for a run may take up most of your day. 

But those of you who are runners know that it’s worth it ).

Even Pushkin bows to Pepsi

Pushkin at sunset

The Sabbath

Sabbath Walk

View to the Kremlin

For what you are about to see 1

For what you are about to see 2

For what you are about to see 3

In Israel there is only one day of rest, so during that day you have to rest well.  And I was never so conscious in my life of Saturday, and what Saturday meant, until I visited that country, and was immersed in the practice of taking a day, a full 24-hour period, to just be.

There are many ways to observe the Sabbath, and in Russia I a particular idea of how to go about it.  I get up early to do my worshipping – my running.  I save Saturdays as a day to take a long, good, outdoor run.  I think about it during the week as I wear my knees and ankles thin on the treadmill.  I go through possibilities, and look at maps.  When the blessed morning comes, I dress warm and head out, and allow myself to enjoy the cool air.

From there I shower and change, and proudly put my tennis shoes back on.  The rest of the day I am a free person, and I celebrate this freedom by taking a walk.  I walk, I take pictures, I explore.  I go to at least one contemporary art exhibit.  And I move through the city again.

I’m not on vacation here.  I teach, I study, I have a lot going on.  But Saturday is my day to remind myself that I am in Moscow, and this city is an amazing place.  It is my job, my duty while I am here, to experience it.

Daily Show Party

Taylor, Myra, Anna, Marissa

One of my favorite memories from Bucknell was that time, late in the evening, when we would pause from our studies and gather around the television to watch the news.  No, not CNN, or those chatterboxes on MSNBC.  By news, I mean “The Daily Show”.  Books were closed, talk in the common areas ceased.  Taking part in this ritual was the most important way we kept abrest of current affairs.

Now we are far from home, and only when the wind is blowing right do we get the Internet.  Fortunately, of late the wind has been blowing in the right direction long enough to download a few sacred episodes.

So late in the evening we gather on my bed.  The screen of the laptop is angled just so.  And although normally I try to steer clear of American shows and movies while I’m abroad, this is an election year. 

Keeping up with the news is important when you’re far from home.

Peter the Great

Isn't he great?

For several reasons, this pamyat’nik to Peter the great deserves its very own blog post.  One: Peter the Great is one of hte most important tsars in this country’s history.  Two:  this statue is one of the most gigantic things I’ve ever seen.  Sure, the guy was tall in real life, but here Peter’s base is in the Moscow river and he soars hundreds of feet into the sky.   

Three:  This is one of the most God-ugliset things I’ve ever seen.  And . . .

Four:  Everyone in Moscow hates it ).

Sculpture Yard

Towering figures

Heads will Roll

Heads will roll closeup

Stalin in the autumn years of life

The nose knews

Lenin lived, Lenin lives, Lenin will live

Lenin lives

Solemn Soldier

Mom and Dad – speak no evil

I think this artist is trying to say something.

It must have been love

Autumn Stroll

Kids playing soccer in the shadows of soviet statues

Wednesday, October 22 2008 4 p.m.

The Sculpture park at the new Tretyakovskii Gallery is one of the most captivating places I’ve ever visited.  The grounds are covered with a mixture of contemporary sculptures and Soviet throwbacks that were dismantled at the end of the Cold War.  Hanging on to these relics is an interesting way of remembering what has passed.

An evening stroll by Kievsky Vokzal

Modern Pamyatnik 1

Evening on the Moscow River

Modern Pamyatnik 2

The weather has been unusually warm and good this fall.  That is, until now.

Debate Party

From left - Myra's friend, Myra, Marta, Lea

Thursday, October 16 2008 Room 10 p.m.

One of my fondest memories of my senior year of college was gathering in the gateway of my friends Steve, Greg, and Dave for Debate Parties.  We would open a bottle of wine, gather around the television, and watch John Kerry and George Bush have at each other.  Those nights were so much fun.  I couldn’t help but feel I was in a special time and a special place, among a very special group of people who were about to witness something extraordinary.

Four years later I’m still in the dorms.  We don’t have a TV, but we do have a laptop, and when the wind is blowing right we can get the Internet. 

Four years later the candidates are Barack Obama and John McCain.  I’m watching the debate with people from America, France, Norway.  We are crowded on my bed and the laptop screen is angled just so that everyone can see.

A lot has changed in four years, but a lot has not.  I’m once again in a special time and a special place, among a special group of people.  And hopefully, this year, even from the other side of the world, we will witness something extraordinary.

Om Namah Shivaya

In the cemetery on Mt. Herzl I decided to become a yoga instructor.  Later this summer, 87 minutes after the completion of a yoga teacher certification course, I was knocked off my bike and, in the fall, broke my elbow.  The incident delayed my Moscow trip, ended my marathon plans, and kept me off the yoga mat for two months.

 

With the first two situations I made my peace.  With the last, I could do so only at the sacrifice of some sanity.  For me, yoga is more than a workout.  It is a daily reminder of life’s interconnectedness, its complexity, and its beauty.  Forgoing it for two months meant forgoing a big part of who I am.

 

But now the elbow is healed.  My shoulders are tight, my chatturungas are shaky, and I haven’t yet attempted crow.  But my breath is strong and my movements are fluid as I flow from one vinyassa to the next. 

 

My practice is on, and my teaching is too. 

 

Before this week, I had only taught a couple of yoga classes to my fellow travelers in Israel.  In Moscow, as President (Dictator for Life) of the Association of International Students at RGGU, I hold among my privileges the key to a meeting room on the fourth floor of my dormitory.  Here the SIS can hold meetings and lectures.  And I can teach yoga – that is, once I recruit my students to help me get rid of the chairs, tables, and couch in the room.

 

I now run three yoga classes a week at RSUH.  Three classes, with some difficulties.  My students are mostly beginners.  Beginners, as in 70% of them have never practiced yoga a day in their lives.  None of them speaks English as a first language.  And me, well, my vocabulary and manipulation of verbs in the imperative is not (yet) good enough to run a class in Russian. 

 

So our class is simple – a few sun salutations, some crescent lunges, a balancing posture or two before we move on to spine strengthening.  I try to say the name of the postures in Sanskrit, our classroom lingua franca.  I practice with them as I call out the postures, because there are not enough experienced students who can follow the cues of my voice.

 

And it works.  At the end of class I get those great smiles and thanks.  The next day I get comments about sore bodies, good experiences, and a full sign-up sheet for next session.  It’s a small routine, a simple one.  But in that simplicity, in this environment, there is a special power. 

 

See, life is fast in Moscow.  It’s so fast that sometimes you forget to breathe.  At the end of the day you feel tired, you feel drained.  You feel like your life is spinning out of your control and there is so much to do, always so much to do . . .

 

But if you take a moment at the end of the day.  Take off your shoes, take off your coat, take a vinyassa or two and return to your breath.  Then you are reminded that this city will have to do a lot more to get the best of you.