Back in the USSR

Exterior of the Grand Choral Synagogue

Even though Russia won on the poll -it was only by one point (place number two isn't even a real country . . . come on people!) . . .

Anyhow, I'm sure you know the drill, click on the link to read on (and to see the pictures . . .)

So I'm back in Russia, for the first time. An odd statement, I'm sure, but I can think of none better to describe what it's like to be here.

Most people, those of you who are long time followers of this blog I'm sure may be amongst them, seem to think I've been to Russia before. When I was growing up in Los Angeles local Russian immigrants used to think I was Russian -an elderly lady from Odessa once asked me if I was practicing my English . . . which was surprising, as I didn't know a word of Russian at the time -but I digress.

People seem so convinced that I lived in Russia, because for a considerable amount of time, I lived around Russia -in Poland, Lithuania and Ukraine, all places associated (and to a certain degree, historically so) with Russia (the later two having large Russian speaking populations) . . . After that year in Eastern Europe, I left with a kasket (Russian flat cap) from Poland and a smattering of Russian from Lithuania, but having never stepped foot in Russia proper. I was thus more then intrigued when I was offered the chance to help out with the influx of summer tourists visiting the city of S. Petersburg (formally Leningrad, formally Petrograd, formally S. Petersburg) . . .

Which is why I'm back in Russia, for the first time -on one hand everything feels very familiar, on the other everything is new.

Who ever says Communism is gone has never crossed the Russian border . . . My passport, admittedly well used, did have room for a few more stamps (ok, two, but that should have been enough to go in and out of a country), but a Russian Visa requires two empty pages. Thus off I went to Boro Park, where for the delightful fee of $60 for the additional pages, and $150 for a three day rush, I was able to add the needed space. When my passport was returned, I received a leather passport cover (they're all the rage in Lithuania), and a travel kit that included a sleep mask, ear plugs and one of those fancy blow up neck pillows . . . I'm still debating if they were worth the cost. To apply for a Visa I needed to write down every country I had been to in the past ten years . . . not an easy task when you've just run out of space in your passport!

All of this seemed like more then enough to enter the country, but upon reaching passport control I was asked to fill out a "Migration Card", in duplicate, which wanted such details as my given name(s), birth date (in day/month/year format), purpose of visit and patronymic . . . which got me worried, as I don't officially have a patronymic.
In any event, I managed to get through the border and was greeted by the sights and smells of the City of White Nights.

Arriving in the Yeshivah, where we will be staying for the next few weeks, we were given something to eat.







Nothing says Russia like borscht and potatoes . . .

The Windows of the Imperial City







Compare to this building in Vilnius






Inside the small Shul










Sam and I


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