The day that never ended ended

Dear Mom and Dad,

Flying into Vladivostok at seven a.m. seemed like a great idea, as you get there with the whole day ahead of you. Interestingly you only take the eight hours you lost into account upon arrival, apparently; though you realized something was a little off when two hours (of on-plane, non-real (apparently) time) after dinner, it was time for breakfast. The very same two hours of a dim, soft blue light the airline had obviously consulted with a psychiatrist before installing had somehow not fully compensated for the lost night. So you arrive in Vladivostok at seven a.m. with the whole day ahead of you. Seemed - great. Was - not.

The airport in Vladivostok

I hadn't been back to the city since departing in May of 2015 after an academic year spent studying Russian at a local university - VGUES. When arriving in September of 2014 I had only my eight week course of intensive Russian study precariously dangling from my belt, so directly connected with the city are so many of my first encounters with the language, culture and people.

The view from Aleksey's family's apartment

One of those people is my friend, Alekséy - he and his friend, Vanya, met me at the airport, which is half an hour north of the city and drove me into the city at rush hour. Here I should probably mention that Vladivostok is Russia's most "avtomobilizirovanny" city, as it's proximity to Japan has made the purchase of used Totoyas and Lexuses uniquely affordable, which has in turn created the odd phenomenon that every time you get in the car it seems like the person that was not the driver a second ago has suddenly decided to take the wheel. Then you remember that the wheel is on the right side of the car, if it came from Japan. So the wheel is on the right side of the car. In general they say that there's 2-3 cars for every family in the city – an unheard of phenomenon in a country where for most your own motorized means of transportation is still very much so a luxury. The most interesting part of returning thus far has not been how much the city has changed. There are of course new stores here and there, the main hotel in the city is no longer the Hyundai Hotel, but the Lotte Hotel – a popular Korean food distributer – and some minor infrastructural changes, but more than anything I've realized how much I have changed. Before coming back I certainly would have agreed that St. Petersburg and Vladivostok are two different cities, but probably would have only reluctantly consented to there being significant points of individuality. This, however, is the truth. St Petersburg is much more European, and not just in location, whereas Vladivostok is not the big city I felt it to be in 2014 and Asian culture is present on every corner.

Kungas beech and the Amurski Bay

Once we arrived at Aleksey's apartment we almost immediately set out to buy tickets for the boat we were taking to an island that evening for the weekend and buy the necessary supplies for a three day stay. But first the guest must be fed. I decided to put aside my self-imposed dietary restrictions and dive into the local food cultures wherever I may find myself on this journey. So for breakfast I had three pieces of bread, each covered in a hunk of butter and a mound of red caviar from Kamchatka, purchased during the economic forum that Putin had arrived to partake in the previous week. I was told in passing that he flew around in a helicopter while here, choosing not to fight the traffic. After these “buterbrody” I was then offered a heaping helping of “zapekanka” – a sort of cottage cheese casserole – and we were off into the city.

The Golden Bridge and the Golden Horn Bay as seen from the port

I must say the taxi rides here are not for the faint of heart. Pedestrians seem to be entitled to a good three inches of clearance, though it seems the drivers shoot for two and a half. We got to our destination (and have every time thus far) though without becoming accomplices to murder and set about making the necessary purchases. It seemed I was still chewing cottage cheese when it was time for lunch. One of the local culinary street food delicacies is the “pyan-se,” which is a ball of steamed cabbage and beef wrapped in a doughy shell. We each bought one for a little over a dollar a piece and I washed mine down with a Korean beverage (from the very same Lotte empire) called Milkis. As you might have guessed, it's a milk-based soft drink…that tastes like Skittles. Somehow. At some point during the day I lost consciousness for about an hour and it was time to lug quite literally our weight in food and drink to the port. As I write this I'm sitting on the porch of our little wooden hut on the island Popova. Last night was a rather raucous affair. But I'll tell you all about the island adventures in my next letter.

Milkis

From Russia with love,

Alex