A Puerto Rican in Belarus - Part 2

Once we decided to stay in Grodno, the fun began! We started the week off by throwing a party for my friends from the American Corner. Néstor and I spent all day Sunday preparing and our guests arrived at 6pm. Everyone seemed to enjoy the pasta with tomato and meat sauce that we prepared, and of course we had plenty of champagne and sweets, so everyone was happy. It was really nice to discuss life from three different cultural perspectives: Belarusian, Puerto Rican, and American. Highlights of the night included Néstor and me each singing a solo with the videotape rolling! We had no choice as the girls sang a nice Russian song for us and then promptly told us it was our turn! We tried to get out of it, but they wouldn’t have it. In case you are wondering, I sang "Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer." And Néstor sang "He Renuciado a Ti" ("I Have Renounced You") by Jose Jose, to the delight of all the ladies! Around 10pm, everyone got bundled up to go outside. The snow was really coming down and we had a nice snowball fight: boys versus girls. Then Néstor and I made snow angels; this was another first for him. We were surprised that no one joined us, I guess it’s an American thing?

The rest of the week we spent visiting local cafes and restaurants, sightseeing, and hanging out with my friends. We slept in and stayed up late, after all we were on vacation! On Monday night, we visited a café called Несцерка (Nyé-stir-ka), which means little Néstor. Russian speakers love to use the diminutive forms of nouns, just like the Spanish ita and ito. How cool that Néstor’s name has a Russian equivalent. As far as we know it's a Greek name, so it must have migrated both East and West! Tuesday afternoon Néstor managed to get a photo of some local military men. We were walking down Lenin Street and we saw some young Belarusian soldiers. He asked Света to ask them for a photo, as fellow military men, and they agreed. BTW, all men, with very few exceptions, are required to serve for a short time (approximately 1 year). On Wednesday night, Néstor and I had a pizza at Ретро (Re-tro) and then went to my favorite disco and danced for several hours. It’s hard to find good house music in the States, so we soaked up all we could. On Thursday night we hung out with Irina, my Russian teacher, and visited two cafes. Our favorite place was Кронон (Kro-non). It only has 8 small tables, but it's cozy and the food is tasty, not to mention they have a nice selection of beer and wine. We fell in love with the sign hanging over the bar that says in Latin, “Truth in Wine.” On Friday night, we had a fabulous dinner with Света and her family, and Néstor really connected with her dad, Vladimir. Too bad his trip was so short, or the two of them would've gone ice fishing together. Maybe next time? On Saturday night, Néstor and I treated my friends to a night at the disco. We went the whole nine yards and reserved a table and ordered a nice dinner and drinks too. On Sunday evening my boss, Lyudmila, treated us to a home-cooked meal. It was fantastic! Monday night we had one last meal at Карчма (Karch-ma), and ate our favorite stuffed pork rolls with roasted potatoes, вкусный (f-koos-nih) yummy!

Time flew by and before we knew it Tuesday morning had arrived; time to head back to Minsk so Néstor could catch his flight back to Texas. Everyone was so warm and welcoming, so much so that Néstor wanted to say with me. He fell in love with all the Russian salads (I’m currently learning how to make them) and the Belarusian hospitality, or maybe it was that fur hat? ;-) If it wasn’t for his job with the U. S. Air Force, he’d still be here with me today…

(For more photos, go to "A Puerto Rican in Belarus - Part 2" under My Photos)

You Shall Not Pass!

When Néstor was planning his visit, I asked him to apply for a double-entry visa. After all, I have been here for 4 months and have yet to visit another country, which is a shame considering the close proximity of Poland and Lithuania. So he paid the extra money ($131 single entry; $232 double entry) and I got busy planning a short trip. After asking my friends, searching online, and visiting a local travel agency, I decided that the best option was to stay one night in Druskininkai, Lithuania, which is known for its "sanitoriums" (saunas/spas), and then travel to Vilnius so we could see the Old Town. I made the reservations and bought our bus tickets, so we were all set to go. That was until the U.S. Embassy told us the bad news: The checkpoint our bus was going to use was not an “international border crossing.” This means that only Belarusian and Lithuanian citizens can pass through. Funny that the travel agency didn’t warn me about this. What made matters worse is that the crossing we could use (M11) would turn the 1.5 hour trip from Grodno to Druskininkai into closer to 10 hours, not to mention that we would have to make a huge circle and backtrack, which neither of us wanted to do. (Double click on the photo above and you'll see what I mean.) Time for Plan B, which was to skip Druskininkai and just go to Vilnius for 2 days. This made more sense as it was a straight shot from the M11 crossing. Sounds easy enough… but when we went to the bus station we were told that the bus only departed on Tuesdays and Sundays, and we needed to go on Thursday! Another option was to go back to Minsk (3–4 hours on a marshrutka) and then take a 4-hour train to Vilnius, but we had just come from there and backtracking never sits well. Our last ditch effort was to rent a car and drive ourselves, but this idea was shot down when we were unable to find a car rental office in Grodno. Toward the end we even contemplated walking or skiing across the border!

We were both frustrated and more than a little disappointed at our failure. After investing so much time and energy it was hard to let it go, but we both felt better when we finally decided to hang out and relax in Grodno. I should add that we later found out that we could’ve taken a marshrutka to Vilnius, instead of the bus, and they depart for Vilnius everyday! Then again, who knows which border crossing they use. Like Néstor and I said, "It was not meant to be." Maybe there was a reason we were not supposed to go on this trip?

More Stamps

On Saturday morning we met Viktar, my landlord, so he could “register” Néstor to the flat. The Belarusian government keeps track of its citizens and visitors, so we had to visit the Immigration and Passport Control Office, present the proper documents, and pay a small fee ($10 USD). When you stay at a hotel the front desk registers you, which means they have to keep your passport for a few hours, or sometimes overnight. But when you stay in a private residence the owner has to take care of the paperwork. Unlike my registration experience back in September, Néstor’s was uneventful, which was a good thing. The only excitement came at the last minute when the lady was about to reach for her stamp, but instead got up and started digging through a filing cabinet in the corner of the office. All we could do was stand there, watch, and hold our breaths. We had no idea what she was looking for, but whatever it was she didn’t find it, so she finally came back to her desk. Then we heard the magical sound of the stamps being made: Success was ours!

Our happiness made the 20-minute walk across town more enjoyable. The sun was shining, but it was still very cold and windy. At midnight it had been –10° Celsius (14° F) and a friend told us the overnight low was –15° C (5° F); the coldest night of winter so far.

Sorry I don’t have more photos for this entry, but it’s not very smart to take out your camera in or around government buildings in Belarus, unless you feel like practicing your Russian with a police officer. Did I tell you that they still have the KGB (КГБ) here? Belarus is unique in that respect, as all the other ex-Soviet countries did away with it, or at least changed the name of the organization. I walk past their local headquarters all the time, which is directly across from the police station, or militia (Милиция). I figure that if they’re watching me, I might as well make their job a little easier. Maybe one day I’ll figure out how to get a photo of the building, sign and all, without getting into trouble. But seeing as though they have surveillance cameras, it will probably never happen. You’ll just have to take my word for it, or come check it out yourself.

A Puerto Rican in Belarus - Part 1

On January 2, I traveled to Minsk via “marshrutka” (12 passenger van) as Néstor was arriving the next afternoon. I spent the night with my friend Elise and was very happy when she offered to drive me to the airport, which is located about 45 minutes from the city. We arrived at the gate just in time to see him walk through customs. What a great feeling to finally hug and kiss each other again; neither of us could stop smiling! Like me, all his flights had been on time and all his luggage made it through with no problems. Now it was time for his 2-week adventure to begin.

We spent the night at the Hotel Planeta and managed to squeeze in a few hours of sightseeing the next day. We didn’t have time to do much as we had to catch the 4:22pm train to Grodno, although I did finish my last minute holiday shopping at “Univermag” (the state owned department store). The highlight of the day was watching a fire truck empty its tank to create an ice skating rink around the New Year’s Tree in October Square. It was so cold that the water froze instantly and people began to play and slide on the ice, even without their skates. Now that was definitely something new for my Puerto Rican!

Néstor finally got some sleep during the 6-hour train ride to Grodno. And we had a blast playing with our camera. We had heard that you aren’t supposed to take photos of the trains (a throw back to Soviet times?), so we kept sneaking our camera out when the cabin attendant wasn’t looking or when he went to another car. The joke will be on us if we ever find out that it’s actually okay to take pictures, but we had some good laughs nevertheless. The train pulled into Grodno at 10:00pm and we dragged our luggage a few blocks to my flat. It felt great to finally be free of it. Next, I took Néstor to the 24-hour shop on Sovietskaya Street to buy some fresh milk and bread. Then it was back home to prepare his first meal, which like mine, consisted of пелъмени (meat filled dumplings) and a local beer. The only difference was that we had soy sauce, which is a very tasty way to spice up your “pil-main-ee.” So went Néstor’s first 36-hours in Belarus and our first night together in Grodno, my home away from home. (Check out " A Puerto Rican in Belarus: Part 1" under My Photos.)

C Нобым Годом! Happy New Year!

After spending a quiet Christmas so far from home, I was ready to celebrate the New Year, which is the biggest holiday in Belarus. I spent the night with my friend Сбета and her family including her mom, dad, sister, grandma, and cousin. The evening began with a huge Belarusian-style feast of chicken, pork, sausages, boiled potatoes, several special holiday salads, caviar, tomato slices, cheese, pickled cucumbers and carrots, bread, fresh fruit, juices, champagne, amaretto, red wine, and last but not least, a huge bottle of vodka. We started our meal around 8:00 pm and the drinks began to flow. I was happy to participate in the series of toasts that always accompany a gathering of friends and family, no matter how big or small. This tradition is one of my favorite parts of Belarusian culture as the toasts are often very meaningful to those involved. Rather than gulping down your drinks in silence, everyone comes together to enjoy and commemorate the moment. Although you can get yourself into trouble as many people insist that you finish all of your drink each time. My advice is to make sure you have a small glass!

It was New Year’s Eve and I was in the mood to party, so by golly I finished each of my shots of vodka and washed them down with a закуска (za-kooz-ka, snack). In this case it was a slice of pickle, Russian style! After an hour or two I realized that the huge table of food served a second purpose, to help counteract all the vodka that we, or at least Сбета’s dad and I, were drinking. It didn’t take long for us to team up, and I later learned that he was very pleased to have a drinking buddy for the night. We carried on like this until 11:00 pm at which time everyone, except Сбета’s mom, stood up and toasted Happy New Year to Moscow! What an experience for a girl whose father visited the U.S.S.R. during the Cold War as a U.S. Air Force officer. Who would ever have guessed that one day I would share a special holiday meal with a man who once served in the Soviet military!

When the clock finally struck midnight in Belarus, we had yet another toast and enjoyed the national anthem as it played on the television. Next, everyone sat down to listen to President Lukashenka’s New Year’s Greetings. As usual, I was happy to understand a handful of words, but you can visit the Embassy of Belarus (http://www.belarusembassy.org/) for a full English translation. After the speech, we continued to watch the special New Year’s Eve programs, which were very similar to those in the United States. One big difference, besides the presidential address, was that no one kissed me at midnight. As my boyfriend was back home in Texas, I didn’t mind the lack of affection.

Not long after midnight, we lit some sparkles and enjoyed the barrage of fireworks that were exploding all around the flat and throughout the city. It was somewhere around the sparkles that I began to lose track of time… Сбета invited me to go with her to the center to enjoy the huge party and concert, but I was in no condition to travel. She left with her cousin and I somehow managed to help clear the table and then promptly fell asleep on the living room couch. I vaguely remember seeing Father Frost place gifts under the New Year’s tree, which was right next to my bed.

The next thing I knew it was 2:00 pm on New Year’s Day, my head was killing me, and someone was offering me a cup of champagne. You know the saying, “A hair of the dog that bit you.” The worst part was that Сбета’s dad had woken up at 9:00 am to play football (aka soccer) with his friends! A piece of advice to my fellow Americans: When it comes to drinking vodka, never ever try to keep up with a Russian or a Belarusian! Better yet, make it anyone from any country that has ever had anything to do with Russia. It’s in their blood I tell you! It’s in their blood!