Ok, so I've arrived in Moscow in one piece without any major issues, other than the crippling, but improving, jet-lag. My hostel does not have internet, and due to a computer issue I had a little problem locating the interweb, and I still have some problems keeping connections. Where to begin? My housing, it was supposed to be free, and I was told so by Evgenii Vladimirovich, but I've been charged some 220 Ruble fee by the scary ladies who run the building, but 220 rubles is only about $9 so I'll just let it go. But I am holding off on paying another day or so, last night they sent these two beautiful Russian women up to collect from one of the Frenchmen, they can collect from me anyday!!! The room is OK, it is kinda like an old style Soviet Communal apartment where there is a common kitchen and bathroom for the two rooms. In room A lives 4 Frenchmen: Matheu(sp) a nice guy with an honest smile and decent English abilities; Fredreich(sp) just moved in yesterday and I haven't spoken with him; Quinten(sp) a very nice, shy, nerdy, but friendly guy whose English seems limited; and Orlando, one of the strangest people I've met, but very nice in that French kind of way, he speaks near fluent English and Russian, as well as quite a bit of German-he is really quite the character seemingly knowing everyone in the building. I live in room 'B' (I need to enable the Russian characters) with another Frenchmen named Guillermo(sp) who is rather funny and speaks good English; and with a German named Karlsen(sp) who is awesome, he speaks exceptional English as well as pretty good Russian. Karlsen is a bigtime football (soccer) fan, we plan to see games together, but he has also been extremely helpful to me by helping to translate for me, he accompanied me to the office with the scary ladies as well as to the cellphone store (I was informed by 3 different officials that a cell phone was necessary) we must be quite the pair, a German who repeatedly asks for things to be repeated translating for an American who has one of the best (I don't mean to brag but I think I've gotten pretty good at it) blank stares this side of the Moskva River. I have also been told that I am the ONLY American on campus, so it gives me a good excuse as well as a novelty aspect. More about the flat, it is pretty cool, the guys are all cool and very helpful, the French love to cook and are possibly the only reason I am not starving, I've had trouble adjusting I must admit, as well as trouble adjusting to the fromage (sp), my stomach is all kinds of jacked and my shitake cycle is weird if you get what I'm saying-which reminds me that packing my toilet paper was among the best decisions I've ever made, even the “good” stuff at the stores here is like you'd find in the rest area bathroom, I just pray I packed enough. Did I mention the roaches? I am in what is considered one of the “best” dorms, which is reserved for good Russian students and western Europeans, but by American standards it is pretty low, but I really don't mind, I think it's OK, especially when I hear that students of darker skin are given far less and subject to the police harassment-it makes me feel rather sad honestly, and I look upon the little roaches (they're only about a centimeter long) as a minor inconvenience, though I find it odd that they don't scurry when you hit the lights, I guess they feel entitled to the night.

As to language, I have found that my Russian is extremely deficient, and today I was placed in the beginner classes with students who only have 1 to 2 months Russian experience! I honestly think I can do better and know more than it has seemed so far, or maybe I'm just retarded, I don't know. I feel like I've worked too hard for a year or so now to only be a basic beginner. I am extremely scared to speak and come off as very shy and apprehensive. Maybe I am just odd, because I can read signs faster than my German “translator.” I think I just need some mental switch to flick on, in which I will begin to hear sentences rather than words. All and all it is extremely disheartening, and at times frustrating, I can't figure out what to do. I just don't think I've learned how to utilize what I know. As I said before, I have mastered the blank stare, and others have found that if they write what they are saying in simple words I understand, or stick to short phrases. As of now I am greatly indebted to Evgenii, his assistant Diana, Karlsen, and Orlando for their help, without them I would be destitute and done. Overall, everybody has been extremely helpful, friendly, and patient.

Now to the city, the city of Moscow is one of the most beautiful in the world; outside of some of the dilapidated Soviet architecture(which interests me), there are many beautiful buildings, as well as a plethora of trees and flowers, it is so colorful I wonder how people could have described it as drab-maybe some buildings, but whatever. And this is not to mention the beautiful women that are seen everywhere. Moscow is a very diverse city, you see people of all races and ethnicities and the women are all gorgeous regardless. I could type forever about them: their airs, confident struts, and most magnificently striking and boisterous eyes; their eyes all seem to tell a story and are definitely windows into their souls, moods, and every thought and emotion, it is incredible. I only wonder why this phenomenon is so rare in American women. Back to the city. It is also apparent and obvious that capitalism has taken hold well in the Russian people, they love advertising, labels, and as many shops and vendors as you can cram into a space, yet they still revere their Soviet past. At one point when Orlando referred to Stalin as a criminal, the Russian girls we were with became rather offended and upset-yet people always find it strange that I have an interest in Khrushchev- I don't know, maybe it is strange, but maybe the strangeness is what intrigues me so. So I've only ventured out from campus once, I am saving the Kremlin for a later date, and I went to the old All Soviet Expo Center, now the All Russian Expo Center. I could write about it for hours, with its once proud buildings representing the Soviet Republics now falling into disrepair, and its centerpiece theater, once a palace to Communism's accomplishments, now with graffiti that reads “Nirvana Cobaine 4 evr” is filled with its intent's antithesis- a shopping mall. But it was still neat, Lenin still stood watch surrounded by hammers and sickles, the one fountain was still gorgeous while the other, flanked by old Aeroflot Tupelev planes and a space rocket(Soviet technological achievement), is filled with trash and algae, it made me rather pensive, a perfect mood for what I was viewing. A place once revered and shown off for all foreign dignitaries to see the greatness of the USSR, now struggling to find its place in 21^st Century Russia, too meaningful still to destroy, but largely unneeded. Next to the Expo center was the monument to the conquering of the Cosmos, breathtakingly set in a luscious park, marble everywhere, statues, and plaques culminating with the giant monument. I'll see if I can post a few pictures. Here is where I first met the Militsia (police) apparently the main part was closed for repairs, but he was still kind enough to allow me to take pictures-I was rather surprised by his cordialness and kindness, he was even patient with my poor Russian. Or maybe he just saw the absolute wonderment and awe in my eyes? But it was good to see that the Soviet's accomplishments in space, as well as this park/monument is still cared for and respected. Anyways, I am sorry this first post was so big, though I could make it bigger. I have no class tomorrow, so maybe I will go to Novodevichy and see Khrushchev's grave. The weather has sucked a bit, off and on showers and kinda cold. And my knee hurts, as do my feet from an insane amount of walking. OK, that's enough for now, I'll post more later. Random thought: I've really been digging Operation Ivy; coupled with the noise canceling headphones (which saved me on the plane) are like a piece of heaven in an old Soviet dormitory.