Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow!!

For those of you not following international news, I'll update you. In Moscow, over 50 people have died due to freezing weather. Most of these people live in areas that had power failures or heating-loss. In other areas, utility providers can't produce enough heat to adequetly alleviate this problem. Guess who lives about 8 hours from Moscow?........me, your's truly. Though we've been more fortunate than Moscow, and we have the balmy Gulf of Finland to help regulate temperatures, it's been absolutley freezing here for about a week. The coldest reading I saw was -17C feeling like -27C....that's about -17F. Even the Estonians won't go outside.

To those of you who have never experienced this meteorilogical phenomen, here's a short anecdote: I was walking from my apartment to the Music Academy. At my usual pace this is about a five minute walk, in the cold, I can cut it down to about 3:45. At about the halfway point, I started to feel something rigid inside my nose when I inhaled, like somebody had put a small stint up there. After careful self-evaluation, I discovered that it was my snot freezing as I inhaled the frigid air. When someone asks me how cold it gets here, my new answer will be, "cold enough that your snot freezes after about a minute and a half". The only plus side to this strange-new experience is that unlike normal cold temperatures, you're not constantly afflicted with the sniffles. I imagine that prolonged deep freezes really hurt kleenex sales.

The downside to this nostral novelty is that approximatley three minutes after one gets inside (the ratio is about two times as long as the freezing takes; y =2x), a spring thaw begins. You have to be adequatley prepared for this moment, because you will never cease to be amazed at the quantity of fluid now leaking from your face. The nose recieves attention first, of course, however then your shortly begin to realize that your cheeks are wet from the ice-crystals melting around your eyes and the corners of your mouth. My friends who wear glasses have learned to cope with temporary blindness for about 10minutes while their lenses de-frost, de-fog, and dry (drying them yourself will not work).

To cope with this climactic travesty, I bought my first scarf. It's very long and made of wool, and I wrap it around my face a few times. Fortunatley there are no Middle-Easterners here, so I do not have to worry about offending anyone. This method helps keep me warm, however I must remember not stay outside too long (10min or more), or the moisture from my breath on the inside of the scarf will begin to freeze and then I have to question the usefulness of my purchase.

To my extreme joy, it started snowing today. I never thought I'd be so happy to see snow accumulating on the ground. This means that it can only be "so-cold" outside....at least much warmer than it's been. It's not a blizzard, it's not freezing rain or hail, it's perfect: white, larger, puffy flakes falling almost straight down (and a little to the right). So not to worry, I'm safe and warm now. The forecast calls for a stabalization of temperature for a few weeks between 10-20F. Yay! A little over a month to go, and then the real spring thaw should begin. I can't wait. I hope you all are also safe and warm. Take Care.

Which One of These is Not Like the Other Ones!

Todays article will feature the trip I took with my choir to a retreat at an old Estonian manor house in the country . Or as I like to call it, "You can't take this foreigner anywhere". Last weekend, my choir had its annual trip to Kohila, a small Estonian village about one hour outside of Tallinn. On this retreat, the focus is singing, polishing repretoire, and bonding as a choir. So, being the adventurous and good-natured person that I am, I agreed to go along. It was only for one night, and besides, the entire weekend only cost me about 9 dollars. This payed for three meals, and lodgings for the evening. I opted to pay to use a sleeping bag (we will discuss the problems associated with this decision later). My other choices were a matress, but I had to provide the sheets, or a bed with all linens provided. One night on the floor is manageable. I squared away the payments with the choir secretary before we left.

Because I have learned from past experiences that the choir members will tell me nothing unless I ask, I sent an e-mail to one of the members inquiring to know if we were taking a bus, where we should meet, and what time we were leaving (very trivial things that perhaps I should have already known). She said we were going by car...uh oh. I suddenly felt about twelve years old and about to be picked for dodgeball. You hope and pray that you aren't last, and stuck in the car with people who won't talk to you, or worse, don't know any english!

Saturday morning arrived, and armed with my pillow and backpack, I bravely marched to the departure point. Luckily, we were sent off in a predetermined fashion and I was fortunate to ride with two people I had talked to previously. Upon arrival, we unloaded the cars and went inside the old, but rennovated manor house (which now serves as a music school part of the year).....(I wondered why there were pianos everywhere). As we reached the top of the stairs, a curious thing began to happen. Everyone started taking a pair of shoes out of their bag. Immediatley I remember something a friend told me when I visited her apartment, "if this were a real Estonian home I would have slippers for you to wear while you stayed". Rookie-Foreigner mistake number 1: Remeber to bring a pair of slippers/flip-flops to old rennovated manor houses. Swallowing my embarrassment, I embraced the akwardness of the moment and donned my other pair of socks so that my feet wouldn't get cold...so much for clean ones the next day.

The next 4-5 hours were consumed with practice. We took a break for lunch and exploration of the town/house and then reconveened for 4-5 more hours of practice. Then, about 7pm, one of the workers from the manor entered our practice hall and opened a big door at the far end. Periodically people would go over and retreive sheets and bedding from the woman. I assumed that there was some order to this. First people who ordered matresses would get their things. Those who needed bed linens next, and us recieving sleeping bags at the end. Slowly, I watched people gather their things, one at a time of course, so as not to disturb the rehearsal. Finally, the worker reappeared, locked the door and began to leave. I got up and raced her down to get my sleeping bag, however she didn't speak any English, and apparently the words for "to sleep" and "bag" don't get the right meaning across. Nearby, however, one of the choir members saw our struggle and came to help me.

I explained that I was trying to ask about getting a sleeping bag, when he turned to me and said, "you mean you didn't bring yours?" Rookie-Foreigner Mistake No 2: Paying 30 kroons for the sleeping bag option apparently means that you are paying to sleep at the manor house, but that you will provide your own bag. Well...I think the worker had taken a liking to me during our disfunctional conversation and lead me back to the now locked room at the far end of the hall, opposite the rehearsing choir so that I could get a matress and a blanket. When she reached for a pillow, I semi-akwardly said (in estonia), "I have this". She appreciated me trying her language, smiled and ushered me out of the room.

Not long after this debauchle, rehearsal ended for the evening. Feeling slightly overwhelmed by my social mistakes, my removal from my comfort zone in Tallinn, surrounded by people who I don't really know too well, and exhausted from singing for 10 hours, I shut down. I pulled out my i-pod and for an hour and a half sat on some chairs and just listened to my music. Another person was also listening to her headphones and reading, so I did not look too out of place or anti-social.

At this point, another member asked the two of us (me and the girl with the headphones) if we wanted to come downstairs for the party and sauna later. My spirits had risen considerably, and I was getting bored so I said, "Okay" to the party, but "we'll see" to the sauna (see last entry for description of estonian sauna). I wasn't quite sure that I could take a physical beating in addition to the mental and emotional one I had received that day. Nor did I care to see some of the choir members naked...fortunatley only 3 or 4 people ended up going to sauna. The rest of us just socialized in an old cellar.

Granted, 80 percent of everything spoken was in Estonian, I did my fair share of social contributing to the party. When one lady got up the nerve to ask me the questions everyone was dying to know, the room quited down and all eyes went towards me. "What are you doing here?" "Why/how did you join this choir?" "Where are you from?" "Can you really sing those low notes?" I've been asked these questions about a million times up to this point (except for the one about the notes) so I had no problem answering. I even added a little humor which made the situation lighter. After this, the younger members sitting near me would periodically ask me a question and we would engage in short conversations in english. It was actually quite nice and I had a fairly decent time.

My crowning moments of the evening occured in quick succesion. About two hours into the party, two choir members came to join us and began the tradition of playing party games. Of course this wasn't explained to me, but neither did I expect it to be. After the third person spoke, I finally caught on to the game. It's the one where you say your name, something about yourself and then the person after you has to remember both as well as anything anyone has said before you. I was second to last in the line to go!

Needless to say, by the time the game had come to my turn, everyone became very quite again because they were very curious to see if I could remember anything or had understood what was happening. To the amazment and praise of all, I remembered everyone's name as well as a few details about 1/3 of the poeple. Everyone was very happy and now realized that I actually could understand what was going on most of the time, here and at rehearsal! The next game, I have to admit I couldn't quite figure out.

I understood that people were taking turns, and the last person to speak called on the next person. Someone eventually said, "ok Andrew's turn". I unashemedly professed that all I could gather was that it was important that I said something funny. This was thankfully the right thing to say, however, the point of the game is to say something in more detail about what you said in the first game about your self and the group had to determine if it was the truth or a lie. In the first game, I said (in Estonian) "My name is Andrew Schmidt, and I don't speak Estonian, but I know names". So, in away, my statement sort of fit. But, to play the game, I told a story about the orgin of my name and how it was the third choice of my parents after discovering the first two burdened me with horrible monograms. The story went over well, and we all returned to the party.

After a partially restful sleep on a nearly paper thin matress, the choir awoke, had breakfast, practiced for another 5 hours, and returned to Tallinn. I don't think I have ever walked up four flights of stairs faster than when I finally reached my apartment building. Home sweet home at last. I then realized, that indeed, or at least for now, Tallinn is my home, and I am very happy to be here. I don't think I'll be leaving it too soon.

Aren't You Cold?

The answer is "No. I am fine, thanks". The question is probably the single most frequently heard phrase I hear. When I meet a new Estonian, which is usually every time I go somewhere, I am asked the same two questions: "What are you doing here?", and "Aren't You Cold". You might think that they are perhaps being funny because I am American and not used to the "frozen tundra" that is Estonia....at least this is what we're led to believe. This, however, is not so. I am asked this because I wear a small, blue, gortex jacket (it's now lined with a green hoodie). To the untrained eye, or those unfamiliar with such synthetic fibers as gortex, I suppose it looks like I am wearing nothing more than a windbreaker. Gortex, however, is a very well insulating and warm fabric designed to be worn in extremely cold places...i.e Estonia.

Nevertheless, should I meet someone on the street, or thereafter while dressing to go outside, I am inevitably querried on the matter of my coat. After I explain that I am not cold and infact quite comfortable, the following response is of three varieties: 1. I must be lying, but who would lie about coats....2. Something to the effect of "Ok..." (as in...well you've been properly warned, it's your own fault if you die of frostbite)...3. You must be insane.

Needless to say, many of my Estonian friends think I'm somewhat soft in the head. I have a few that continue to pursue the issue by asking me what I am going to do when it is -20C outside (I think this is about -2F). At an attempt to appease the masses, I have lined my coat with a green "hoodie"...this has failed. Estonians refuse to believe that my outerwear is sufficient for this climate. Honestly, I am beginning to question the validity of their concern. It is now well into January and still around 25F. February is rumored to be the coldest month, however average temperatures according to online sources say it will be between 20-30F....closer to 30. Between my other American friends and I, this ubiquitous question has become somewhat of a joke.

The crowning moment of this charade so far occured at a gathering I went to at a small cellar-pub in the Old Town. One of my American friends had just had an opening at an art gallery. She designs and creates amazing jewlery. A few evenings later, five of us gathered to celbrate her success again as well as bid farewell to another friend moving to Berlin. Now, you have to understand that upon entering any establishment where you might spend some time sitting around, one must relinquish their coat at the door. You then recieve a stub to claim it upon your departure (I will write a future blog about the tribulations of this endeavor). This being said, at the coat check of this pub I was refused service. I had removed my coat and hoodie and was holding it out to the coat-checker and he told me not to give it to him. Apparently my outwear is not even suitable enough to be recognized as sufficient for coat checking. Like a scarf, shawl, wrap, or sweater, I was forced to hold onto my jacket all night. At least I didn't have to fight to get it back at the end of the evening (again see future blog when we discuss the coatcheck).

Currently, I refuse to give into peer pressure and abide by social conventions concerning winter attire. I plan to defy the supposedly horrible Estonian winter and continue donning my coat and hoodie. Perhaps I'll even start a new fashion trend...perhaps not. Undoubtably, I will continue to remain "that wierd American boy who says he isn't cold".

Could I BE any Cheaper?

I have now entered month three of my stay in Etonia, time for a general life update:

Physical: I am skinnier (if you can believe...small European portions), my asthma is gone, and I have a new trendy-euro haircut. I also have some back pain...

Emotional: I am happy, healthy, a little bored at times, and constantly searching for love...ha ha.

Behavioral: I now sleep late, go to bed late, and work sporadically. I am socially fullfillied, and even going on a few dates! I am even more frugal with my spending...

To give you some economic background, Estonia has the fastest growing economy of all the Baltic States. Nevertheless, when I want to convert dollars to money I use a factor of 13 (13 est.Kroons to 1 U.S.D). This is not the multiplication table that I'm most familiar with, but I have become pretty good at estimating the exchange. The long and short of it is that stuff is pretty cheap in Estonia. Groceries for 5 days (i can't physically carry more than this from the store to my apartment) is about 200kr (16-17 dollars), a loaf of break costs about 6kr (less than .5 dollars), drinks at a bar are about 30kr a drink (about 2.50dollars), a decent lunch out is about 45kr (4-5 dollars), you can go see a concert or movie for about 100kr (about 8 dollars), and for 200kr I can talk/message on my cellphone for over a month--- to anyone. Stuff like clothing and shoes are actually comprable to US prices, but I am not buying a new wardrobe.

I am, however, a savy consumer and find ways to get discounts whenever possible. I get student discounts everywhere I can, and I bought a members card to the grocery to get a 5iscount there. Now, I am used to even lower prices. I have recently realized that I get slightly annoyed if I pay more than 35kr for lunch, 75kr for a concert, or basically ever spend more than 100kr at a time. Like living in the capital city of any state/country, this becomes increasingly difficult. My biggest worry is that my penny pinching will follow me back home to the U.S.

Perhaps all of you in the US should alert the consumer industry that I will be returning and expecting some changes in pricing. No longer will going to the movies (a particularly favorite pastime of mine) be a 15-20 dollar affair (tickets and popcorn/drink). I should not have to pay a small fortune for groceries (any item priced over 2-3 dollars should be reviewed), and when I go out with my friends/family to a restraunt the sum of our outing should be no more than 45 dollars. I also expect all local and international calling to be more affordable as well...but then again if we all just get skype, we can talk for free to anyone in the world...

I am sure that I am in for a rude awakening when I once again reside in my own country....old allergens, new job and social prospects, schedules to keep, and goods priced to please the producer, not the consumer. Fortunatley, I have almost 8 full months to continue enjoying my stay. And for my sake, when I return, it might be okay to lie to me a little about how much I'll be spending...

*Pics: http://www.greatestcities.com/4246pic/343/CP9343.jpg/Money_of_Estonia.jpg