Not so. What I conveniently forgot is that today, we were going to the location of the actual institute; which, contrary to the 10 or 15 minutes I had assumed, was actually over an hour away.
To demonstrate:
That pretty little green A is where we had taken all of our classes thus far, and the farthest I assumed I had to walk. Please take note of the metro, shown here:
So, I arrive only to find all of the exchange students and one of our program coordinators heading out the door when I had mistakenly thought we just had Russian class. We walked another 10 minutes (20 minutes walking now, the total I thought I would walk the entire day in the heels) and then got into the Chkalovskaya Metro Station.
ETIQUETTE TIPS OF THE DAY:
When you use the metro, make sure that the gateway machine has accepted your money. This has less to do with the embarrassment of walking into a solid barrier in front of a large quantity of people, and more to do with the loud semi-siren screeching sound that occurs the exact moment you walk into the solid barrier, ensuring that if people weren't watching you embarrass yourself before, they certainly will afterwards. The surest sign to make sure that you do not embarrass yourself (or go deaf) is to wait for several seconds for the light on the gateway to turn green. Simple, yet surprisingly easy to forget, as evidenced by the siren's going off at least once every two or three times I got on the metro.
Additionally, the next hurdle to not accidentally being rude and announcing to the world that you're a foreigner is placing yourself properly on the escalators down into the metro stations. Now, there are certain times when this doesn't matter-- namely rush hour-- but for the most part, when you get onto the escalator, you want to stay to the farthest-most right that you can manage. People will be running down the left side of the escalator as to get down to the stations faster (why, I don't know-- it's not like the next metro won't be coming in less than five minutes; but I digress), and if you are standing on the left or, God forbid, the middle, people will either angrily squeeze past you or pause and glare. Best way to counteract this? Always stick to the right.
ETIQUETTE TIPS ENDED
Anyway, the subway. The entire class of foreigners huddled onto the escalator after getting through the gate relatively unscathed (with the only exceptions being one big screechy siren and our program coordinator getting called off for a random search), and finally went down to the metro line and prepared to board the metro.
Boarding the metro, by the way, is never a good sign when distances are involved. If something was close, you would walk. If something is relatively close, you endure the bus. And if something is really far away (at least an hour's walk), you take the metro.
I could already tell that what I had previously thought would be my feet screaming was actually going to end in my feet either shrieking in agony or simply going on strike and disappearing.
Anyway, the metro was really, really crowded, and as a result, I ended up standing on the entire metro ride, which was about 45 minutes to an hour. While my feet were vehemently cursing at me, I did find one very interesting thing: somehow, wearing high heels made it so that I fell off-balance far less often than I would have thought. I had been forced to take the metro before (when my host mother and I had to fetch my luggage), but then I had been wearing flats, and I had skidded and careened all over the place. (Note: the metro does not believe in gentle stops.)
Now, however, when I was wearing the high heels, suddenly I didn't even stumble when the metro violently lurched to a stop, and the worst that happened was that I was slightly off-balance and had to lean. (This was very lucky, especially considering that one of the times last time when I was wearing flats and fell off-balance, I accidentally kicked a person behind me in the shin.)
Perhaps there's something more to Russian women wearing high heels than just fashion? Hard to say. However, a full dissection of this question will follow later in this post.
Now, for those who just happened to have never seen the scheme of the metro lines in Saint Petersburg, I shall show you and explain:
To explain this seemingly meaningless clump of lines and Russian-speaking dots, there are five different metro lines in Saint Petersburg: line 1, the red line; line 2, the blue line; line 3, the green line; line 4, the orange line; and line 5, the purple line. Now, I told you to remember the metro station that was circled in red earlier; well, that station was on the purple line, here:
This meant that we had to ride all the way down to the connection station, about three stations' worth (while standing on my screaming though incredibly fashionable and well-balanced feet). At the Sadovaya station (which I will explain in just a moment), we had to make a transfer to the Orange line, so much hustling and two elevators later, we were prepared to get on another metro to our final destination.
A note on Sadovaya: A.K.A. Understanding the Russian Metro:
When taking the metro, it's important to understand that only one line runs through each station, and each track only goes in one direction. This is part of what makes Russian transportation so easy to use, and so confusing at the same time.
Because of this, even if they're all part of the same metro "station", whenever there are converging lines within a metro, they each have their own station. And thus, the station at which we transferred had 3 names: Sadovaya (the name for the purple line); Spasskaya (the name for the orange line); and Sennaya Ploshad (the name for the blue line). You have to make sure to go to the right one, or else you'll be looking for the wrong type of subway going to the wrong place, and it'll be a total mess. Note: I didn't say that it would be an uncorrectable mess; however, it wouldn't be very pleasant.
Back to the narrative:
Having gotten to Spaskaya, we took the bus for four stops (again with me standing; noticing a theme?) and finally got off at our final destination, where I hoped I would quickly be escorted somewhere where I could sit and let my feet cry in peace.
 |
| Why, yes, that is certainly a long route. |
And then we found out we were walking.
Of course, they were kind enough to show us the short route-- a shortcut through the park, which I would've enjoyed more had my feet not threatened to kill me in my sleep with every step-- but even with the short route (and me doing my hobbling best to keep up), it still took twenty minutes walking to get to the Institute. Once there, we stood around for a little while, were generally shown where everything is (it's a very small institute, so there wasn't very much to show), and then... we were done. An hour plus travel time, for fifteen minutes' (maybe) worth of information. As our program coordinator said when he discovered that we didn't actually have class today, "Ah... That's unfortunate."
Uptake from all of this? Beyond the blisters, today was rather fun. I got some rather fun people-watching in, such as:
- Steampunk is apparently a thing here- there was a guy riding the escalator with a pair of steampunk goggles, which was surprising;
- It is apparently normal to ride the elevator backwards in order to ensure a good face-to-face conversation (and more than occasionally making out; but we won't talk about that);
- It is apparently okay here for men to carry tiny, stylish bags that we in the United States would call purses;
- Russians will wear fanny packs ANYWHERE except where they're supposed to be worn (including, apparently, on their fannies);
- Russian women have a far higher pain tolerance and/or dedication to fashion than I do, most likely both, because I saw so many of them wearing stilettos and walking as if they were wearing flats; and
- Seeing Russian women with cornrows is rather mind-shattering, not going to lie.
Worth it? I think that's still worthy of a debate. While I did fit in, the way I was walking by the end of the day made me stand out like a sore thumb. And while being on balance in the metro is nice, having extreme difficulties walking is much less so. Ultimately, I think killing the nerves in my feet is going to be like any pursuit ultimately worth pursuing: long, tedious, and extremely painful. At least it was finally easy for me to not automatically smile while walking down the street.
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