God Goes Abroad.

In retrospect, this past week has practically been a blur of sheer and utter awesomeness! I have seen so many wonderful structures and interiors and works of art that my optical nerves and pleasure center are surely going to burn out on me. Although, I think nearly everything I viewed this week was topped by the reconstructed rooms and artwork of the Winter Palace. Perhaps it is my life long love affair with this building that makes me feel this way because the Cathedral at Peter and Paul Fortress was truly amazing, as was St. Nicholas Cathedral, but there is just something about the Winter Palace that makes it intangible in comparison to these places.

From Kerry, one of our program directors, I have ascertained the understanding that “it is Russia,” said in a playful tone with negative connotations at mind, and “I should be happy with what I can get.” That being said, I will admit that the HOUR long wait for the Hermitage in, what I have been informed is “traditional Petersburg summer weather,” (i.e. barely 50 degrees, no sun, and scattered showers) coupled with the fact that, in Russia, you are not yelled at for cutting the line, if done coyly enough, was slightly more than annoying, but fortunately only amplified my excitement about finally being able to spend more than a few moments inside exploring the various galleries with Laura. Within a two hour time span, we managed to knockout nearly all of the second level of the Hermitage and, dear lord, was it spectacular! Obviously, I did not stop to look at EVERY piece of art in order to make time for the forerunners of our lists, but none of the wonder or fantasy of being in the Hermitage was lost to this regard.

It will come as no surprise that the things that pushed me over the edge were the reconstructed rooms. All things were on a level of such opulent beauty that I could barely interpret what I was seeing with my logical mind. Although it is honestly very hard for me to choose, I have to say that the Pavilion Hall, which houses the Peacock Clock, and the Golden Drawing room were just superbly out of this world. I had to thesaurus “elation” to try to find a word to describe how these rooms made me feel and there was nothing that quite fit. Therefore, the best I could come up with was rapeuphobilation (the combination of rapture, euphoria, and jubilation). Pavilion Hall is one of the most gorgeous things I have ever seen in living color. To put it in a personifiable perspective, imagine if the adult version of Halle Berry’s baby produced offspring with someone ten times as attractive and that offspring then produced this room. Yes, it was THAT amazing. Now, keeping this in mind, I will move the discussion toward the topic of the grander Golden Drawing room. Not amazing just because it is a GOLDEN drawing room with walls made to resemble SOLID GOLD, but also because it is rapeuphobilation inducing. I mean, my jaw literally feel open SO hard that it hurt when I got a mere glimpse of this room upon turning to my right and entering it was like stepping into a dream. I am not ashamed to say that this room’s beauty was so inspirational that it brought tears to my eyes that, had I NOT been in public, would have happily let fall. It was like kissing the love of your life for the first time after being separated from him/her for half a year and I cannot wait to return because, sadly, my camera died before I could even make it through the line outside of the Hermitage.

All of this wonder does stand in VERY steep contrast to my none-museum-going life. Class is, to say the least, difficult on some days; however, I do feel the progression of my language learning seeping into me slowly. I am still searching for ways to speak Russian conversationally on a regular basis more often because improvement of my conversational skills is one of my top priorities and goals for this experience. The living situation with my roommate is improving as well and I feel less and less excited about my return flight now that I have had a sufficient amount of time to acclimate to my surroundings. Ha, although I can assure you that I will be singing a different tune tomorrow morning during my hour and fifteen minute commute to school on public transit…I am starting to think it is a ploy to keep me humble about being surrounded by such an interesting and historical place. While my school work and some of the frustrating situations act as occasional reality checks, I, for the most part, still cannot believe that I am here. I am LIVING in St. Petersburg for the next month of my life, granted that I continue to avoid swallowing the tap water.