From Russia With Love: The Schneiders Tackle St. Petersburg
It began and ended with jetlag. What came between, though, proved something of an adventure, a leap of faith into a culture and city that were at times more than a little overwhelming.
In early May, St. Petersburg introduced itself to my brother Anthony, a 21-year old junior at Duke, with a partially dilapidated apartment building and crippling fatigue. “I hoped the bed was at least nice,” he told me, grimacing slightly at the thought. “It wasn’t.” It was a jarring welcome to the city, a frightening moment that could have placed a dark cloud over the remainder of the trip. Yet, within a few days, the subpar living conditions were the last thing on his mind. Anthony promptly immersed himself in the Russian language and culture, visiting the city’s vast array of museums and becoming more and more confident with the native tongue.
Six weeks later, I was welcomed to the city with the distant sound of smooth jazz and a golden-wrapped chocolate on my pillow. The St. Petersburg Four Seasons, located in a renovated 17th century palace, proved significantly more welcoming than Anthony’s sparse accommodations. My family arrived on his last days of classes, primed to join him for the conclusion of his St. Petersburg adventure and offer him a much-needed shower. He collapsed on his warm, welcoming bed the moment he met up with us and was content to remain there for much of the next week. Apparently, his building’s water heater had given out a few weeks prior: “We had to bathe with a teapot,” he recollected, a twinge of pain in his eyes.
Anthony emerged from his cocoon to give us the lay of the land and explain the city’s abundance of monumental, historically significant structures. From the Church of the Savior on Spilled Blood (built on the site of a Tsar’s assassination) to the Hermitage museum (whose thousands of pieces and rooms would, by some accounts, take over a year to tour and appreciate), St. Petersburg faces no shortage of beautiful buildings and fascinatingly weird impromptu history lessons. The city, previously known as both Leningrad and Petrograd, is a testament to Russia’s deep and colorful history. Bearing distinctive marks of both the Russian empire and Soviet Union, it’s a large and multi-faceted city that resembles no other in setting or atmosphere. Almost alarmingly quiet even at its most crowded, St. Petersburg is far removed from the hustle, bustle, and general madness of an American city of its size.
Even considering the cushy accommodations, the life of an American tourist in Russia has its fair share of challenges. Unlike Europe’s more touristy cities like Paris and Rome, English speakers are few and far between in St. Petersburg, so something as simple as grabbing lunch can end up being a full-fledged adventure. One particular afternoon, my mother and I chose to head off on our own and explore the city’s vast shopping opportunities. We soon found ourselves hopeless without Anthony’s timely translations, wandering aimlessly through a mall in search of some glimpse of the English language. Salvation came in the form of Starbucks, perhaps the most stereotypically American business beyond McDonald’s or Walmart, and we excitedly found ourselves scarfing down our favorites from back in the States.
This isn’t to say the St. Petersburg cuisine was lacking. With Anthony by our sides to hold our hands through the daunting menus, we had little trouble locating quality local eateries. I quickly developed an affinity for a Georgian dish known as khachapuri, a pizza-esque meal that allegedly contained some sort of unfermented cheese banned from American production and sale. Who knew dairy products could make a guy feel so rebellious?
Like many of Europe’s most noteworthy locales, St. Petersburg remains proud of and deeply invested in its history. Ornate palaces remain intact on seemingly every street corner, just as much a part of the city as any business or commercial residence. Russian rulers of old and new, from Peter the Great to Lenin to Putin, remain immortalized in the city, from street signs to bizarre souvenir shop knick-knacks. The city and its people look fondly upon their country’s tumultuous past; our tour guide at the massive Hermitage museum spoke of Russia through the centuries with a sparkle in her eyes and a hint of magic in her words, enthusiastically relaying the lives and deaths of the Tsars and their noblemen.
Defined by its past yet a force in the modern age, St. Petersburg carves out a niche for itself unlike any other city I’ve come across. As a native Houstonian, I’m more than used to the American definition of a metropolis, yet St. Petersburg turns such a classification on its head; quiet and even a bit serene in the mornings, it’s a big city without the big city feel, a historical goldmine without the corporate touristy feel of many of its more Americanized counterparts around the world. If you’re willing to venture down the road less traveled, St. Petersburg is well worth the jetlag.
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