Ghettos and r.e.s.p.e.c.t., -- PWAs meet an HWA.

I don't have much to rant on about in this posting because 1) my brain is drained from finishing school and 2) I'm working off a hangover.  If anything this posting is a praising session!  Praise for Petersburg?  Really?  From me?  Did this place transform overnight???  Unfortunately, it didn't, however, I have felt it necessary to show what I like to call sardonic comedic respect for the less than glamorous areas of this city -- aka, real Petersburg.  One area is Kupchino, boyhood home of current President, Dmitry Medvedev!!  So enjoy these pictures from my trolling peregrinations of the wrong side of the tracks as well at the vids!  Petersburg and I:   PWAs (Petersburgerz Wit' Attitude) meet an HWA (Hebrew Wit' Attitude).  It's 'bout respect after all.

There's even a video/rap tribute to Kupchino!!  I will never recover from the hilarity of it.

And now my pics plus commentary!!

Wearing a hoodie in da 'hood.  Better lay low cuz you might get shot!

No money for the mechanic. 

A burial is too much money so a tag job iz all.  RIP, cuz.

She ain't happy.  She angry.  Learnt ta be tough from day one.  Cold, cold b1tch.

A swear word in the ghetto.

Just need the opportunity.

Art skool was too much money.  $h1t.  Money getz you everything.  Talent getz you nuthin'.

And if you're a $n!tch you become this.

Projects.

And the womenz get left behind.  All alone with three babies.  Nuthin' ta do but sex and waitin' for her man to step up.

When one escapes the ghetto, they show off what they got.  It's a pride thang.

Another project.

Where all too many end up before given the chance.  Gettin' messed up with the wrong crowd cuz that's the only role models they know since pops ain't 'round.

Well, PWAs this HWA feels you, but just stay on yo' side of the street.  And you will r.e.s.p.e.c.t. and do the shalom to me.  Word.

Jews.  We mean business because we control all the businesses.  Except the Mexican restaurants.  And the Scientology book stores.    And the country music ones too.

Coffee and aminulz ... I mean animals

After the verbal acid of my last blog, I drowned myself in a lot of intensive school work that I had to complete.  As a result, the last 72 hours have been a pertinacious drive to complete nearly twenty pages of academic writing ... or self-torture that shot down my whole weekend.  Now, I almost feel like Lenny in Steinbeck's Of Mice and Men and am forgetting things.  Keys on the floor.  Sunglasses (which I have actually needed this sunny gorgeous weather stint Petersburg has been experiencing) left in the bathroom.  A post-it note with email contacts for a summer job in my underwear strap versus my pocket -- if I'm magically going to be finding paper in my underwear, I'd at least like it to be some major currency of a higher denomination that keeps its value on international markets!  And I actually haven't had drop of alcohol in 2 & 1/7 weeks either, like I'm that sober high school student I once was.  However, the problem starts if I begin to crush mouse skulls with my bare hands and swing from poles.  That's when Big Nurse Ratched is going to have to drag me to the Cuckoo's Nest. 

Large amounts of coffee have helped me stay focused -- both when I was writing and when I needed brain power to pay attention to yet more school work.  And the girls at my nearest Shokolodnitsa have been just great too.  As I said earlier, with all the moronic behavior that the yokels of this locale exhibit, the waitresses are just lovely jubbly.  Considerate, mindful, efficient.  They've made me become a regular.  And I intend to be.  It's nice being on an small island of affable competence than in an ocean of mentally unprepared troglodytes.  This simple, run of the mill chain coffee shop has become one of my favorite places in Petersburg.  I mean, who cares about Nabokov's apartment or the Russian Museum??  Sure they're all special, but you never know if you have some average, unaware (read:  untamed) Kultural Kapitalite on duty!!    But heavily laden sarcasm aside, I feel like my preference for some mundane Shokolodnitsa is like the proceeding picture --

So, despite the seemingly nice kitty bed that every other cat would presumably love, some often are attracted to a place that just feels better ... and is out of the way from areas.  Other areas that despite being pretty, risk not having their $h1t together, consequently making the cat irritated and, well, catty.   Such is my simple Shokolodnitsa at 108 Nevsky Prospekt.  The unexpected place where this cat prefers to be --- the others can keep their palaces and shinier things.  Hmmph.

And this creates, drum roll please, yet another segue, this time to animals!  Animal viewing has been a great de-stresser  for me.  Be it on YouTube or my own pictures, which are mainly of cats, animals just can't go wrong.  I can excuse them if they're stupid much quicker than these Petersburgers because they're cute!  Even the most injurious of species are just ... so f^cking adorable they make you momentarily forget about all your problems like this video below.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2y4cQEEyuTw&feature=player_embedded#at=72


A baby porcupine eating a banana ... that also has hiccups!  That makes even a grouch like me melt like ice cream on a summer's day!  Humans just don't have this effect.  What's wrong with us?? And more people would definitely watch or read the news if there were random animal fun segment in the middle of the foreign affairs report. As such, I end this post, a bona fide St. Francis of Assissi, with pictures I've taken of aminulz ... I mean, animals. 

Kitty climbing a fence in Vyborg.

Vyborg, Russia.  Cold and tattered, but friendly and well-fed.

Cheung Chau Island, Hong Kong.

At Finlyandsky Station in Petersburg.

Siversky.  Crows.

In Mongolia where horses are also known as cars.

Cinque Terre, Italy.

Novgorod.  Resting in brief sunlight.

Novgorod.  I wish I knew what this ring-tailed creature was called!

Hiratsuka, Japan.  Even frogs are great.

Moscow is the capital for a *reason*

Warning:  This blog entry contains venom, acid, and spite.  Read with care.

 Okay, just when I started talking about honey and sunny in my last blog during one of my attempts at optimism, the Kultural Kapital has p1ssed me off again.  Jeez, I miss Moscow.  Not everyone loves Moscow.  I understand.  Different strokes for different folks.  But I do.  I love it for many reasons, but one is that stupidity is momentary there.  Even it has to be fast-paced in that city.  Only fun, smart times in Moscow.  Oh, dear Russian rapper, Timati and fellow M.O.T. (Member of the Tribe), how your tribute to Moscow is playing in my mind now and how I must share it with my dedicated readers. 

 Watch -- http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NoqJ1VdmlcU



Not in Petersburg I'm afraid.  You know that expression, "A village has lost its idiot" ... or something like that?  Well, apparently every city, village, municipality, incorporated and unincorporated district in Russia lost theirs at one time and their progeny now make up the present day population of Saintly Petersburg!!!  Now I understand why Dostoyevsky wrote a book called, most fittingly, The Idiot!  He moved back to Petersburg a few years before it was published and found tons of inspiration just by walking on the street, or heck, looking out the d@mn window.  Some things remain timeless!

Venom!

(Ommmm, zen moment)

Okay, well what has me so irked you may ask?  It's not really one thing.  And it's something that one either deals with or must escape entirely (I will probably be doing the latter as I don't plan to stay in this city after next year):  the behavior and behaviorisms of the natives.

Now, I understand every place has this.  And in my time of living in many parts of the world, this has been something I have tolerated or never even bothered by.  The Petersburg variety is one that particularly displeases me because of its, well, stupidity, thoughtless forwardness, and impoliteness, as wells as complete lack of manners and class.

How? 


Point #1 -- There is a tendency in Petersburg to do an inordinate amount of thoughtless "at talking" to people.

Case in point --  I was sitting at a restaurant, eating my food and listening to music on my super cool phone quietly with my headphones on (read:  avoiding the "at talking" of this city) and a young guy pesters me from the other side of the room, of course omitting to say "excuse me" or "sir", by blurting out, "Tell me how the WiFi works!"  I heard some noise (that is, his voice) through my music, but ignored him.  He then walks over and taps me on the shoulder asking the same thing ... disturbing my peace.  I slowly brushed off my sleeve where his paw touched my shirt and gave him a very unenthusiastic, uncooperative, grouchy-as-f^ck look with a Mona Lisa smirk.  He looked stunned, like I told him I ran over the Easter Bunny with a Hummer and then dragged its body around a rodeo.  I turned back to my food and he walked away like he'd been stung with metaphorical poison ivy.  But I didn't feel bad at all because THERE WERE NUMEROUS HELPFUL WAITERS AROUND who could have helped him better.  Hmmph.



Point #2 -- People park themselves on the sidewalks.

Cases in point -- Okay, they don't exactly "park" but people here of all ages (not just the babushki) walk on the sidewalks so obstructively.  They just don't watch where they're going!  They're like that pokey little car that won't let you pass for 20 miles on some two lane highway in the middle of nowhere and can't walk in a straight line for the life of them!  And when you try to pass them after repeated attempts, they *always* manage to get in front of you.  The number of people I have plowed through is ... something I'm trying to lower!  I really can't be specific on this one.



Point #3 -- Strangers ask you random stupid questions.  Saying hello or doing something of a similar courtesy is not even on their radar.  I'm just fine with being ignored by you, thank you very much!

Case in point -- Earlier today, as I was walking up the stairs of a building, I briefly passed by some "maintenance work" that looked like it had supplies that had been fished out of the nearest dumpster instead of purchased at a hardware store.  No one was working around there and I walked by without caring to notice.  I then walk up the stairs nearby and some warty old troll of a man -- who probably hadn't bathed since Gorbachev's reforms with the body odor to prove it -- was at the top of them unable to see the "maintenance site."  He then randomly asks me (I am not making any eye contact with this creature mind you ... as anyone would), no, sorry, grunts at me, "What's happening there?"  I noticeably ignored him and thought, "Why don't you just wobble your dumpy, alcoholic, discernibly lazy and likely hemorrhoid-ridden @$$ over to the balcony and take a looks-see?"  Apparently, he was able to read my mind and scrutinized this "maintenance site" quite carefully.  See, moving two meters can open be enlightening!



Point #4 -- Petersburgers are shameless moochers who don't know the concept of a job!

(Multiple) Cases in point -- Not that I mind being asked for a cigarette from time to time, but I do mind being asked at every occasion and every day I can think of!  D@mn, people!  There are far more smokers in Moscow and they understand that mostly you, uh, I don't know, HAVE. TO. F^CKING. BUY. your cigarettes!

Moreover, and this one is as bad as a human rights violation in my book, they ask to drink YOUR beer or even try to STEAL IT at the clubs and bars here!  That is beyond wrong and unnatural human behavior, down there with mother-son incest and zoophilia!!!  Maybe Lady Gaga want to share you germs and disease that would end up on the beer cup, but no one else does ... as well as the precious gift to mankind that is beer itself!  Find your you vile little leeches!  At one club, one young Petersburger not only stole someone's beer, which made them angry, he dropped it on the floor and broke the glass!

Lastly, mooching even happens in the check-out lines here.  The other day I was waiting in line with my groceries and the cashier asked if I had a point card.  I said no.  Normal enough.  Then, as the cashier was halfway through ringing up my order, one the of the girls behind me asks me to use her card for off MY order (in addition to hers which had yet to be rung up) to get herself more points!  I gave this Bo Derek lookalike/wannabe one of my signature f^ck off glances and, like that young man at the restaurant, she looked like I had just ruined her day and giggled with her platinum, bleached blonde friend.  It was as if she thought, "How can a man be so mean?  I thought men were supposed to provide everything for me even if I'm not f^cking them?"  Meanwhile, I'm thinking, "Ya know, Sweetheart, I know there's a severe domestic man-shortage for you and your girl here, and by the looks of you two, I'm sure you'd do *anything* for a visa or permanent resident status in the United States, Britain, or Europe, but is this any way to win over a man's charms?  Asking him to provide for you with extra points on your card before even introducing yourself to him?"


Point #5 -- People here are just a bit ... broke down and unable to function efficiently.  Sorry, I'd prefer a 1987 Lada.


Case in point -- I was at another restaurant and my waiter was nice ... but a bit dumb.  Despite speaking decent English (which I actually commend him for), he didn't quite understand the concept of cleaning up a mess in front of a customer immediately.  He came back with my order and accidentally knocked off some of the green onions atop it.  They fell onto the table.  That itself is not a problem.  The problem is that he stared at the fallen onion cutting for about five long seconds or so and walked away with no clue what to do with them.  Duh, maybe apologize and wipe them away???  Finally, about twenty minutes later ( I was looking at my watch) he came by my table and like some overfed dictator, I limply pointed to the onions and said, "Clean that up. Oчистите!"  And he did.  Beet red and embarrassed.  I actually felt a little bad, like I hurt the poor little guy's feelings.  But then I thought, no customer should have to clean up a mess that a waiter made without apologizing.  That's really not too much to ask for!


So there you have it, venom and all.  Petersburg is a special place.  Not the way Disney Land is.  The way that smaller than usual school bus or Timmy from South Park is.  Sometimes I think that this city, despite its truly amazing arts and history, somehow became overrun by a bunch of Beverly Hillbillies who don't know how to take care of the palaces and historic buildings here, let alone display the minimum amount of manners for any kind of social acceptance.  It seems they idolize Jethro and his family (below) more than the stately nobility of times past.

Oh well.  I will say that my nearest Shokolodnitsa is an oasis in the middle of Dumbville and I think I might actually get a point card there.  And I will definitely NOT ask any of my fellow diners there to get points off their bills. ;)

Honey and sunny

Wouldn't you know it!  The moment the weather actually gets nice, I'm strapped down with school work in order to pass my classes this semester.  And when I say nice, I mean it in a universal, intercontinental, trans-climatological way.  While still cold at night, the days are now pleasant and evoke the inner basking forest creature in all of us sick of Mother Nature, gracing us with the icy cold presence of her nasty b1tch of a daughter, Winter.  And of course that means being stuck with studying!  All I want to is trek through this fair city's ghettos on a warm day to see the locals go crazy by the "heat" and cause mini LA style riots.  It's not fair!!  (Actually, I'd rather go on a boat through the canals and get some nice pictures first, but I do await ghetto madness!  Alas, another day.)


But in the fewer chances I'll be walking around outside, there are some honey shops that can sweeten anyone's mood on one of my main routes.  In Russia, honey is popular and valued for its medicinal value.  It certainly adds a little sweetness to the winters here and in the abyss that is Petersburg in February, a shot (or thousand) of vodka accompanying it can make you feel all warm and fuzzy ... which you'll need to do on your own at times in this city because of the UMPTEENTH times heating systems can fail.  All that said, honey is great and Liteynyy Prospekt is apparent Honey Avenue in Petersburg and perhaps Russia as I briefly perused online.  They even have cuddly stuffed bees in the windows of their stores such as below.

                                                                                                         
                                                                                                                               

There are even samovars to go with them!  Samovars full of honey ... hmmm.  And this isn't the only type of honey on the streets of Petersburg.  As shown below...

...this honey is nicer to look at and who knew waiting for the bus could be so fun!  But unlike the honey you can get at the store, this kind is a much more costly investment and can sour and get nasty a LOT more easily. 

Case in point.  As much as you may want to at times, you can't leave this honey cooped up in the darkness of a cupboard or refrigerator.  More time-consuming attention is definitely necessary.  But even then it may never be enough and such a variety of honey can turn into this:

Aw, jeez, Petersburg ...   Although you have shown me that you can be a sunny honey loving city, why must you confound me?  What will I ever do???

Spring rain makes it to the eastern Baltic.

During the slow to arrive spring in Petersburg, I had yet to experience spring rain.  Or at least what I thought felt like spring rain and it arrived on April 20th ... on Hitler's birthday of all days!!!  Woohoo!!  Let's celebrate by getting funky with our best goose-stepping and erotic, World War II themed tributes to Eva Braun!  I'll be your wenig cupcake if you'll be mine!!  Let the party be-gin!  Seriously though, my sarcasm is merely a segue to something more serious and one of the most profound reasons I don't like Saint Petersburg -- racism.

Although racist and neo-Nazi attacks have gone down in Petersburg in recent years, as with most of Russia, it is by no means a sign of new-found tolerance here.  It's here, but almost eerily and contradictorily so.  How could there be this growth of neo-Nazism and racial hatred in country where MILLIONS were killed fighting off the Nazis in World War II???  I've read about and researched the growing racist sentiment in Russia and still haven't grasped the answer to that.  Perhaps I never will.  But one assumption I can make is that in a country where there is weak political leadership and devoid of much of a civil society, millions of Russians look for something or someone to believe in since the collapse of the Soviet Union and the country's might.

For the majority, thankfully, that does not mean idolizing White supremacy.  Racists groups are seen as menacing forces to be avoided ... and rightfully so.  Yet, there are thousands of, as my grandparents might put it, wayward youths in Russia looking for something strong to believe in while also feeling threatened by the changing racial composition of Russian cities.  Aryan pride and brotherhood is their way of finding strength and guidance when they are likely so socio-economically downtrodden.  What other choices do they have?  Who will stop them?  What do they have to lose?  Why are ethnic minorities taking advantage of a newly capitalized Russia while they aren't?  These are the questions that play over in their minds and they decide to act out aggressively and threateningly to gain a foothold in society they once, or even never, had.  Whastever the reasons, there are segments of Russia's population looking for something to believe in:  some have chosen racism.

Whoa.  All serious-like now.  I should say that walking on the streets of Petersburg is probably as safe (or dangerous) as many cities in Europe and North America.  If you have a dark or swarthy complexion in those places, you're most likely not going to be randomly attacked.  And just like I wouldn't tell people it's not worth visiting New York or Paris, I wouldn't tell anyone to skip a trip to this city (Living in it is another story).  But I would tell people to see as many parts of this city as they can before calling it wonderful.  It's not all Nevsky.  It's not all the Hermitage.  It's not all the canals.  It's actually less of those things.  Love it or hate it, Petersburg is at least entertaining.  Why simply cry when you can laugh at things like a crazy person???

"Tol-er-aaannce is comin' straight to the ghet-tooo" ( For the melody, listen to this song by Snoop Dogg -- http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mVkg5FM59NA) 

Petersburg. Living amongst and adjusting to delusions of grandeur.

Greetings fellow bloggers and viewers, 

I am a student who lives in the Kultural Kapital of Russia, Saint Petersburg.  However, after living in Moscow, which I truly loved (and love now), this city has yet to win me over.  It may well not and that's okay because no matter where I have lived, I have discovered good things.  Yet, in places that we don't like we often have to *enumerate* to ourselves what's great or do some concerted searching.  And outside Petersburg's main tourist areas, which have lost their charm for me and are essentially monuments caught up in their own over-inflated pomp, this city is all too often ... ghetto, dingy and smelly!

All this ghetto-ness is nonetheless harder to deal with given that Petersburgers are generally rude, stuck up, and thoughtless people unable able to accept their city's severely dysfunctional state by continuing to breathe in the dirt-like flatulence of palaces and buildings not designed for them, but rather a now disappeared aristocracy.  The city's a showcase and its natives are sufferers of an inferiority complex now that they're not the crown jewel of the Russian Empire. 

Reeeoww!!  Scratch, hiss, scratch, hiss.  "That's more scathing than the acid rains of Chernobyl!" you may have thought.  I will get in to the specifics of what I mean in later blogs so bear with me.  I will say, however, that my opinion of Petersburg is not necessarily what I think of Russia and Moscow evokes a very different, positive one from me.  I'll elaborate on that one too because if you've been a visitor or resident of Russia, you may think, "But I went to Saint Petersburg for the weekend and liked it more than Moscow and..."  Understandable.  In fact, I initially thought that and Petersburg's a great weekend city.  Weekend being the operable word.  In any case, later posts will sort out what I mean so stay tuned!

Back to the ghetto-ness.  Yes, much of Petersburg is a ghetto, dilapidated dirt pile with colonies of excreta, mountains of trash, frescoes of graffiti, and troupes of pesky kids and teens I've told to f^ck off a time or two.  I've even shoved though a trio of them who were messing around with me and the babushka next to me on the metro as we were was exiting. (Reeeow!  Alright, I'll tone it down).  Certainly, this contrasts with the beauty of the Hermitage and the images of the Russian nobility of yore.  This can't be Petersburg.  This crazy blogger is lying, high on crack, or a secret agent of modern day Muscovy to destroy the birthplace of Venerable Vladimir Putin.  No.  Say it ain't so about Petersburg!  Well ... maybe I just lost my rose-colored lenses ...

*But* I have actually enjoyed trolling through the less desirable parts of town!  Originally from a city with tough people and a whole lot of drama, I can handle myself pretty well.  In fact, as product of my background, I'm essentially attitudinal and surly with hints of Woody Allen and Ice-T, though I like to think of myself as a Lewis Black type of character who carries a cheap Hong Kong-themed, Swiss Army knife.  Anyhow, I truly enjoy musing about all the broken down cars, smashed glass, and egregiously pimped out Ladas (those are truly the purest forms of visual, non-human hilarity).  The human element, despite its heretofore mentioned undesirability in my eyes, is also a riot.  From an over-abundance of angry, aggressive women of all ages, due to Russia's demographic and social woes, to stumbling alcoholics who look at you in disbelief when refusing to give them a cigarette, I have to laugh and momentarily set aside the frustrations I have with this place.  To make it better, I play Elvis' In the Ghetto or 2Pac's Brenda's Got a Baby in my head and wish I could laugh madder than Bedlam --  "And his momma cried (in the ghet-to)"  or  "Brenda's got a baby, d@mn shame, girl can hardly spell her name.."  And with that, dear readers, I leave you with a few photos of r.e.a.l. Petersburg.

Decaying, but charming apartment buildings.

Petersburg -- a city with angry, aggressive women and not enough men for them.

Someone was angry at the driver for being late.

It needs way more than a tune-up

Balconies = storage spaces

What awaits you as you exit metro stations in the wrong part of town!

A walk in the park is not always a pleasant thing here.

Trash collection day is ... a quarter past *never*

Lada chic.

Word.  Now if this city could produce a decent rapper, problem solved!

Only the cool cats have the code in.

A swear word in Pburg.

They're tough here.

At least they finished it off!

Again, someone just couldn't handle waiting for the bus.

Dilapidated charm.

Just put all the trash in a pile and hope it goes away!

A shovel appears as the snow melts.

Obvodny Canal -- the longest and ugliest canal of Petersburg.  Traversing downwards through the ghetto, it was once an open air sewer in the 19th century.  Not much has changed.

Pirates.

More dilapidated charm.

Old Soviet natatorium.

A church without the onion dome or belfry.

Scardy cats targeted.