Wednesday, June 9, 2010

Trick or Treat: Oshta Edition

Tonight I sit in Vepsian home, a farm in a small village 2 km away from Oshta. I've had another long day, and this family has agreed to let me stay with them tonight for free.

My day began at 8:30, when we gathered at the museum administration in Vytegra to drive to Oshta. I never imagined so many people would be interested in helping my research, but Tamara Pavlovna and two other women from the museum accompanied me to Oshta.

Oddly, Venya also came. He appointed himself my aid and begged to come along, evidently for the sheer joy of going somewhere and doing something. Tamara Pavlovna was hesitant, so she asked me in her characteristically businesslike manner, “Is he useful to you?” I agreed. He wrote clearly and carried my bag with my laptop, which is heavy. He had also explained to me that the Veps woman we visited yesterday spoke with a strong Vepsian accent, which, being a foreigner, I was unable to discern. So Tamara Pavlova consented. “Fine. Take him with you.”

Thus our party set out to Oshta, an hour's ride on a bumpy road. Our first stops were the museum and the town administration. A few of the workers at the administration were Veps, and they wrote us a list of all 20-some Vepsian residents of Oshta so I could visit them later.

Next, we visited the school, which was recently built in 2008. I simply could not believe how nice the school was in comparison with its surroundings—all wooden, hand-built houses, mostly without roads leading up to them, but rather trails in the grass. They showed us the school museum and dressed me up in Veps clothing. We also dropped by a class of 4th graders, who were so excited to see a “real American” that, in order to prevent a riot, they had to invite me to come to the school later for question-and-answer session. I agreed.

In the school's museum

After the school, Tamara Pavlova and the other two women from the museum administration went back to Vytegra, leaving Venya and I to make our rounds in the Oshta Veps community by ourselves. We developed an easy system: we would find one Veps person, give them my survey to fill out, ask them to give us directions to the next Veps family on our list, and repeat. It worked well, because here everyone knows everyone else.

We were quite a team, me and Venya the eccentric Finnish academic, my bright pink Andy Warhol bag slung over his shoulder.

Oshta

What surprised me most is how normal it is to simply walk into a stranger's home without even knocking. We invaded so many homes today, quite often mistakenly, but nobody seemed to mind in the least. In fact, they offered us tea and chocolates. At the next house, bread and fresh milk, still warm from the cow. When we accidentally home-invaded a Russian family, they would say, “You made a mistake; I'll bring the cookies.” It was rather like trick-or-treating, and Venya really seemed to enjoy appearing in people's homes, eating their food, and then moving on to the next house just as randomly.

So we distributed my surveys until I was so full I could barely stand. Then it was time to eat dinner.

After much explanation, I was able to excuse myself from dinner on grounds that if I ate anything more, I would get sick. Instead, I used the time to put together a slideshow for the schoolchildren with pictures of the university, my family, a Detroit Tigers baseball game, and my apartment in Ann Arbor. Then we returned to the school.

I don't know how I survived my presentation. So many children had gathered, and they were all so eager to listen to me speak. I was terribly nervous. I hate to make speeches, and an impromptu presentation in Russian is a nightmare for me. But they understood me well enough, and when I had exhausted my capacity to talk about myself, then came the barrage of questions.

“What kind of music do you listen to?” “What is the name of your soccer team?” “Do you also have a problem with young kids smoking?” “Are there horses in America?” “How old is your mother?” “Have you been to the capital and met the president?” “What food do they eat in America?” “Do you have McDonald's?” “Do you have friends?” “Have you read Twilight?” “What breed of dog is best?” (That one was my very favorite.)

It was mostly young kids, 8 or 9 years old. When they ran out of questions, they all wanted to have their picture taken with me. The school administration presented me with a bouquet of flowers and 5 books on Veps language, culture, and folklore. And I had nothing to give them!

Finally, I was able to go home. The place I'm staying at is absolutely beautiful. Two stories, a modern shower with hot water. Imagine! I love hot showers. I don't know how I never noticed before, but hot showers might just be the greatest thing ever invented. I'm sharing a bedroom with the daughter, Alyona, who is 16, and the cat Musya, who would very much like to sleep on my laptop right now.

My hostess here also gave me a present: the academic book about the status of the Veps language that I had so wanted to purchase. I don't know how she knew it was just the book I needed. All I had to give her in return was a little American flag. So I said to her, “It means, 'An American was here, and we made friends.'” Evidently it was the right thing to say, because she has been calling her friends and repeating my words to them. So a tiny, silly present was enough after all.

But I should sleep. Tomorrow, Venya (who has vanished, but will certainly resurface again) and I have to return to all the houses we visited yesterday to collect the completed surveys. I hope my stomach doesn't explode!

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