I celebrated my birthday (Friday) by going out to an Indian restaurant down the street. It was also Diwali, so I thought we could celebrate two things at once. I’m all about efficiency 
When we arrived, I figured there would be a party of some sorts, but they told me that most Indians in town would be celebrating at home with their families. So instead, the restaurant would have a party on Saturday night. When we sat down to order, I looked over the menu, and didn’t find what I was looking for, so I asked the owner if he would make it special. On the menu they had chicken, they had tikka, and they had masala, so I asked for Chicken Tikka Masala. We also got Dal, and a lamb dish. I wanted samosas, but some other appetizer was ordered. The chicken was by far the best dish, and the Dal was pretty good too. The Nan we got was pretty good, but a little stale.
Overall, I really like this Indian restaurant. It’s a little on the expensive side, about $18 per person. But hey, every once in a while is do-able.
Afterwards, everyone wanted to celebrate by going out somewhere and getting ridiculously drunk. I was exhausted from a busy week, and just wanted a quiet night to myself. I almost got it. Everyone decided to stay in and get trashed. I went to bed relatively early, but still heard the screaming foreigners all night.
On the way home from school, I walk by what used to be a “Palace of Culture.” It’s an interesting concept. I’ve gathered so far that during Soviet times it was a place for the community to get together and have fun. Sort of like a Soviet YMCA. I think there were games for young people and cultural events, like community theatre, for adults. Today the theatre on the top floor is still active, but the whole bottom has been turned into a furniture store, with a bar on the end. Of course, in this picture there is an ominous cloud hanging overhead, I can assure you that was unintentional.
I would appreciate more input about its function from people in the know.
I live on the second floor, which is the foreigner floor. There are about 50 rooms, and 45 of them are owned by the “Center for Russian Language and Culture,” otherwise known as Smolny. There are two main parts of St. Petersburg State University dedicated to teaching Russian to foreigners, Smolny and the Spetz Fac (Special Faculty of the Phililogical Faculty).
Spetz Fac, where I study, is the more academically reputable of the two. Smolny is pretty much a money making scheme. Spetz Fac puts its students into the main stream of the university, so we pay dorm prices like everyone else. For example, the dormitory where I live costs $105 per month for one bed in a shared room. During the renovation of this dorm, two years ago, Smolny decided to outright purchase these rooms on the second floor. So they’re in charge of student placement, and the students pay them directly. Whereas I pay $105 per month, the Smolny students pay 250 euros per month. That’s a huge difference.
Beyond the price differential, Smolny students all live in the Smolny appartments, with other Smolny students, on the second floor. Spetz Fac students have the possibility of living with the normal students, in the normal rooms. Back in August I was placed in a room on the fourth floor with a Mangament student. He was a nice person, but he snored so loudly that I couldn’t sleep for an entire week. I decided to change rooms. The only other spot availble at that point was one on the second floor. Unfortunate.
Back in America, we have the impression that all Russians are drunks. While this isn’t too far off the mark (I daily see 13 year old boys and girls sitting in the park getting sloshed), the foreigners who come here are worse. Foreigners always behave worse in other countries than they do in their own, Brits and Germans being traditionally among the worst. Needless to say, it’s always a party on the foreigner floor. At all hours people are running around drunk and screaming. And to add icing to the cake, my current roommate is the main instigator, but that’s an entirely different post.
