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	<title>Holiday Goddess &#187; Russia</title>
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	<link>http://holidaygoddess.com</link>
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		<title>Russia 101</title>
		<link>http://holidaygoddess.com/destinations/europe/russia-101/</link>
		<comments>http://holidaygoddess.com/destinations/europe/russia-101/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 09 Jul 2008 03:00:46 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Tamara Sheward</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Europe]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Russia]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://holidaygoddess.com/?p=21</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Vokda and matryoshkas! Your first visit to Russia explained by Tamara Sheward.
So you&#8217;ve booked the Bolshoi, dipped into the Dostoevsky and have started drinking Moscow Mules as a nod to your upcoming trip. But do you know your devushkas from your babushkas? Your salo from your smetana? And why are those drunk people screaming? Take [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><strong>Vokda and matryoshkas! Your first visit to Russia explained by Tamara Sheward.</strong></p>
<p><img class="alignright size-medium wp-image-51" style="float: right;" title="russia-_sm_101" src="/wp-content/uploads/2008/07/russia-_sm_101-300x183.jpg" alt="" width="300" height="183" />So you&#8217;ve booked the Bolshoi, dipped into the Dostoevsky and have started drinking Moscow Mules as a nod to your upcoming trip. But do you know your devushkas from your babushkas? Your salo from your smetana? And why are those drunk people screaming? Take a sneak peek inside the quirks  and perks of the largest &#8211; and possibly most bewildering &#8211; country on earth&#8230;</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><strong>The People</strong></p>
<p>To the outsider, Russians make no sense. That rude bitch sending you death-vibes in the tickets queue? In five minutes she&#8217;s going to invite you home for an eight-course meal and her boyfriend will write a poem commemorating your visit. That apple-faced <em>babushka</em> selling flowers? She&#8217;s in the mafia. And that group of ragged, reeling drunkards screaming down the marketplace? They&#8217;re quoting Pushkin.</p>
<p>Churchill famously called the Russians a &#8220;riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma&#8221;. Kipling reckoned the &#8220;Russian is a delightful person until he tucks his shirt in&#8221;. And FDR threw in the towel with &#8220;No human being can say what the Russians will do next.&#8221;</p>
<p>In a baffling land where paradox is paramount, it seems there is nothing a Russian loves more than suffering and hardship. Except joy and good fortune. Gleefully pessimistic and given to all things epic, the chaste folk who spawned a million XXX websites love what they hate, defer and dominate, and are poets and pragmatists.</p>
<p>Is it their sweeping, tragi-glorious history that lends the Russian his <em>romantik</em> intensity? Is it the bleak, unyielding climate that turns him profoundly inward? Or is the exalted Russian Soul simply the bibulous by-product of too much Russian spirit? Advice? Trust everyone and nobody. Now <em>that&#8217;s</em> thinking like a Russian.</p>
<p><strong>Getting Around</strong></p>
<p>Do you think warm, happy thoughts of comfort and safety when you hear the word &#8220;Aeroflot&#8221;? How about &#8220;Lada&#8221;?</p>
<p>I didn&#8217;t think so. Take the train.</p>
<p><strong>Language</strong></p>
<p>Unless you&#8217;re linguistically gifted or your tongue has been doing yoga, Russian can be a challenging language to master. Take, for example, this: <em>Zdravstvuite</em>. Sadly, this high-scoring Scrabble word is Russian for &#8220;Hello&#8221;, which you will have to learn before you can even dream of progressing to beauties like <em>puteshestvavat</em> (to travel) and the ironic &#8220;<em>kak eta praiznositsa</em>&#8221; (&#8220;How do you pronounce this?&#8221;).</p>
<p>To slightly ease this consonantal chaos, Russian also uses many familiar words, such as &#8220;sex&#8221;, &#8220;poker&#8221; and &#8220;narcotic&#8221;, which makes one wonder what locals did for fun in the days before English infiltrated the vocab.</p>
<p>Surprisingly, learning the Cyrillic alphabet is easy. It&#8217;s also imperative: without cracking the code, you&#8217;ll be lost, hungry and will never realise the joys of smugly laughing at other foreigners gormlessly asking for the nearest &#8220;pecktopah&#8221; (pecTopaH = <em>restauran</em>). Most Russian words are pronounced phonetically, which means even if you don&#8217;t know their definitions, you can blurt them out and sound somewhat knowledgeable. <em>Somewhat.</em></p>
<p><strong>Food</strong></p>
<p>Lactose intolerant? Anti-dairy? Stomach churns at the sight of white globs on your plate? Well, good luck with all <em>that</em>.</p>
<p>Sour cream is the tomato sauce of Russia, or rather, it would be, if we put ketchup in our soups, our desserts and our beer. The ubiquitous <em>smetana</em> is even mixed with its eggy counterpart &#8211; mayonnaise &#8211; to form a common salad dressing. The ten trillion calories found in such an ensemble pretty much negates the point of a salad in the first place, but 142 million Russians can&#8217;t be wrong.</p>
<p>&#8220;Wrong&#8221; may indeed be the word that springs to mind when faced with many other Russian &#8220;delicacies&#8221;. Pig lard (<em>salo</em>) smeared on fried bread. Boiled pumpernickel juice (<em>kvas</em>). Pickled watermelon (<em>salyony arbus</em>). But for every serve of pig&#8217;s feet in aspic, there is a beautiful <em>borscht</em>, a droolworthy <em>shashlyk</em> (grilled meat stick), a comforting bowl of <em>pelmeni</em> (the &#8220;Russian ravioli&#8221;) or an orgasmic <em>blini</em> (caviar pancake with &#8211; surprise! &#8211; sour cream).</p>
<p>In a country so lacto-obsessed, it may come as a surprise to discover that it&#8217;s impossible to get any milk in your coffee. And if you think that&#8217;s weird, just wait until they spoon jam into your tea.</p>
<p><strong>Shopping</strong></p>
<p>There&#8217;s no surer sign of a nation on the rise than really skinny women, and Russia is currently home to thousands of beauties thinner than a gulag gruel. Amid a major economic boom, thousands of Svetas, Irinas and Elenas suddenly have enough money to starve themselves twig-thin. So what&#8217;s a <em>devushka </em>to<em> </em>do with all those left-over roubles? As if you needed to ask&#8230;</p>
<p>Shopping in the major Russian cities is not always cheap, but it is extensive. Red Square&#8217;s GUM department store, once a basic-goods queue-fest and erstwhile Stalin HQ, now boasts more than 200 luxury shops such as Louis Vuitton and Christian Dior. Locals call such outlets &#8220;exhibitions of prices&#8221;, as nobody can afford to actually shop there, but it&#8217;s worth visiting just to salivate on the shop windows. More variety (and affordability) can be found at Okhotny Riad, an underground doppelganger of the quintessential Western mall.</p>
<p>St Petersburg&#8217;s Nevsky Prospekt is rapidly morphing into a much colder Rodeo Drive, with boutiques springing up on every slushy corner. For eye-boggling Russian glam, try Tatyana Parfionova, the massive Bolshoy Gostiny Dvor or the nearby Defile Boutique, which sells clothes designed exclusively by Russians and those from ex-Soviet states.</p>
<p>As for <em>matryoshkas </em>(nesting dolls) and gorgeous handicrafts, skip the chain stores and scour the maze of marketplaces found in every town from Moscow to Murmansk.</p>
<p>Top tip: Stock up on CDs and DVDs on any sidewalk, Metro tunnel or ominous alleyway. They&#8217;re all pirate copies, and sure, it&#8217;s wrong and deprives the artists etc etc. But they&#8217;re all so irresistibly cheap and usually of great quality. Just steer clear of the computer software, unless you want a Russian porn-themed virus devouring your hard drive.</p>
<p><strong>Vodka</strong></p>
<p>Learn to drink it straight. For breakfast.</p>
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