All I can say is it's lucky I don't use my fingers for a living. With the recent drop in temperature here in Moscow, I may never feel them again. I had this amazing conversation with my dad the other day, in which I shared my secret love of the cold. I grew up with snow, definitely saw my fair share of freezing days in Logan, UT and waited many a cold morning at the bus stop in Ann Arbor. And there's something about feeling frosty. A chill means holidays, hot chocolate, snow ball fights, Christmas Sweater parties---gearing up for this year's!!!---ski bus, cuddling, ELF, and lots of other fabulous things. I don't mind being bundled up and cozy and occasionally venturing into the wintry cold.
But that was then. I believe "then" was about 1 degree Celsius. Overnight we left the blissful days of cool behind and are now around a comfortable -19. And bundling's got nothing on that. I can now empathize with plastic surgery victims as my face freezes in one position on direct contact with the cold. But, hey, it's Russia right?!? Might as well experience the real deal.
Other ventures in Russian authenticity this week:
My first caviar. Served directly from a giant plastic tub fresh off the plane from Vladivostok. Amazing!
This is the inside of the bus I rode home the other day. You haven't experienced real until you've been in this.
My brilliant Russian family: Svetlana, Sasha, Dasha, and Katya.
My first visit to a Russian lavra on our daytrip to Sergiev-Passad. Sasha was kind enough to purchase a children's book explaining the history of the saint whose remains are interred here. Don't judge. It's an intense children's book!!!
And as it turns out, the onset of frigid cold has its perks. I watched a sunrise for about as long as it took to snap this picture and then ran while I still had feeling in my feet. Nothing like a dose of sunshine!!!