Delhi: Travel guide, prices and free housing · 2026

ANAziz NadjimutdinovDec 6, 2015Read

Те, кто читал мой прошлый блог, возможно, вспомнят, что в прошлом году мою интровертную душу мотивировала девочка из Болгарии по имени Мирослава. Если забыли, напомню - она вдохновила меня на весёлое лето одним, грубо говоря, нетрезвым разговором. В этом году Мира, к сожалению, не вернулась обратно, но появились новые персонажи с кем я мог глубоко поговорить о жизни. Это были три сестры американки по фамилии Тёрнер. Видимо, ссылаясь на знаменитую певицу прошлого столетия, мы стали называть их "Тина". То есть, каждая из них могла откликнуться на это имя, хотя звали их Анника, Меган и Келси. Именно в этом порядке они и на фото. Они, особенно Анника, стали солнцем нашего общежития, которого так часто не хватает таким местам. В них была просто неиссякаемая энергия, и они всегда были готовы бесконечно делиться ею с нами. В чём это заключалось ? Да в том, что они вечно задумывали какие-нибудь активити для нас. Будь то настольные игры, походы, поездки в бар, выезды на природу, поездка к друзьям в гости и т.д. и т.п. С ними невозможно было усидеть без дела. К тому же, с Анникой лично у меня сложились очень близкие отношения именно как у собеседников, которые часто общались на разные личные вопросы. Дело в том, что дорога в Монтане обычно занимает долгое время, и в вечернее время, по пути домой, все обычно засыпают. А я чаще всего сидел рядом с Анникой, которая вела машину, ну а моя роль была не спать, так как дорога тёмная, и водителю сложно. Таким образом у нас с ней зародилось много разных тем для разговоров. Также, они отлично разбирались в походах и в кэмпинге, поэтому мы очень часто с ними выбирались на природу, о чём я расскажу ещё в отдельном посте.

OOlegbarnaul_452 · Aug 19, 2013Read

I got a haircut the day before yesterday, amidst the ringing laughter from the barber's jokes and conversations on sharp political topics—specifically, homosexuals and the upcoming Sochi Olympic Games. Yes, exactly like that; for Americans, these topics intersect like no others. Anyway, as a result, I've been getting compliments on my new style at work. I christened my employer 'Gerasim' because of his silent treatment. It's vacation week for the American community and for us, so it's been a daily grind in the kitchen. Yesterday, I ran from prep to the grill. Usually, the person working the fryer—the one 'frying like crazy'—calls out the order, but not in this case. Apparently, he decided I was the grill master, and the tickets were written in such a way that even the devil himself couldn't decipher them. The result: I'm a walking disaster. And my boss is now widely known in 'narrow criminal Russian circles' as Gerasim—not bad, actually, sounds pretty tough. At the supermarket today, I was piling up a salad from a bunch of ingredients when I snapped out of it and realized that my manipulations with the food were sending it not into the bowl, but into the lid. Heavy antibiotics are to blame. I also found 'Russian dressing' there; my delight knew no bounds when I recognized it as 'mayonechup' or 'ketchunaise,' whichever you prefer. Before my 'friends of happiness' left, they taught our waitress, Susan, to say 'Bud zdorov' (Bless you) and 'Spasibo' (Thank you) in Russian. She pronounces them perfectly, with almost no accent. A little about Susan: she's a 50-year-old woman, but she looks excellent, is constantly joking, and in terms of energy, she could give many young people a run for their money. I called to change my departure date, they called me a 'hard speaker' and asked me to call back when an employee who speaks Russian was on site. In the end, everything worked out without any extra fees. I discovered the acronym YOLO—You Only Live Once. It's not news to many, but I learned it in the hectic work environment. I heard about a guy who was fired for playing patty-cake with teenagers here (I don't know what he's on, but not sharing isn't cool). He was almost accused of sexual harassment. I was at the laundry again today, doing my wash, of course. While it was washing, I read a book. I moved everything to the dryer and felt like having an adventure. I headed to the pier, met four wasted Americans, they mistook me for a Bulgarian, I enlightened them about Russia, we had a nice chat, and I left to avoid any trouble. And now, directly to the notes. It's all in the details. Everything here is practically the same as back home, but still different. If it's a shower curtain, it doesn't stick to you while you're washing. If it's a paper towel holder, the roll fits perfectly. Toilet paper is thin, soft, and strong (if you know what I mean). Groceries are cheaper, the selection is bigger, and vegetables are misted with water. They know that any labor should be paid. Cars are cheaper in geometric 'regression'. You can turn right on red (a well-known fact). Drivers are more polite and cautious. Gas station attendants know your name and chat with you about the weather and how things are going. And so much more, you can't remember everything, but these little things immediately catch a Russian's eye. I'll add more as I remember. And yes, I'll post a photo of the Russian dressing.