I've moved into my own apartment!!! Yes, that deserves three exclamation marks. After five months living with a host family, I'm not too proud to say that I can't stand it. There's a reason I'm not a teenager or living with my parents any more, and it's that I like my space. And my own time. And the chance to cook my own food, store it properly at the correct temperature (42 degrees, covered, no longer than a week), and eat as much of it as I want, whenever I want. Ah, yes. The apartment of my dreams is finally here!
Let me paint the picture for you, since right now I don't have my own internet connection (I'm using the one at school in-between classes) and it takes forever to load photos:
After wrestling with a stubborn key (press in, press down, lift and twist), you open the light-tan, varnished wooden door. You're greeted by a pleasant and kitschy little corridor, with a hallway on the left, and three white doors at the far end: left, center, and right.
Little frilly curtains hide the glass pane in the center of each door, the fabric slightly yellowing and frayed in only a few places. The linoleum flooring is a dark brown geometric pattern with a natural-looking wooden design. A slight draft hits you across the face as you step in (it is March, after all), but you're too busy taking in the mirror hanging on the wall between the corridor and the door on the left, and its cascading frame of dusty cloth vines to notice much. 
Trust me, you'll notice later tonight, when you're sleeping in your long underwear, pajamas, and bathrobe all at once. As for now, "Cute," you might think. "Homey." You push the bead curtain aside as you turn left to head toward the kitchen. Ah, here's the toilet room, how charming, the toilet is on a little wooden pedestal.
Exposed pipes must make repairs a cinch! You pass the door to the bath-room, too. The tub has its own little cupboard, how interesting! You will only make the mistake of sliding one of the cupboard doors back to look beneath the tub once. Trust me, it doesn't need to be repeated. How lovely, those rusty holes in the white tiles on the wall must be where the water heater was. Well, what doesn't kill you...as they say. Keep going and you're in the kitchen. Bear in mind, you've taken about five steps so far. Oops! You made the mistake of leaning against the curtain on the door to the kitchen, and gee, the glass behind it was broken at one time, and you've just broken it again. Looks like that old packing tape didn't hold. Well, that's nothing that duct tape won't fix. Alright, you're in the kitchen.
There's some lovely gray speckled cupboards, plenty of storage room, nice counter space, a little table with four stools, and an excellent fridge - you could store a whole pig in there if you wanted! Why is everything sticky? Well, no one's lived here for two or three years, so...you'll make do somehow (by scrubbing for a day and a half, that's how). Go ahead and turn on the gas to your stove. It's in the closet in the hallway. Just crank the knob at the top, go back into the kitchen, strike a match, and light your burner. Great! Now you can cook anything! Well, don't try baking, no one's sure if the oven works, and actually it's really a fantastic storage place for this grime-coated, used frying pan. Hmm, looks like eggs! Anyone for sausages?
Let's check out the living room. Plenty of space, if you like hanging out in subzero temperatures. That carpet on the wall? Classy, but not exactly warm. Why it's not on the bare wooden floor is a mystery that you'll contemplate after you've sealed the room off to save energy for heating in the rest of your apartment. Take in the glass cabinet residing in the center of the main wall. Four tea sets, six shelves of dusty books in Russian, some small glass animals and ornaments . . . What's that? Why would you want to move those beautiful things? Don't you have enough space in the rest of the place? Really! Oh, and be careful when you flip off that light switch! Since it doesn't have a panel, you wouldn't want to shock yourself, would you?
Okay, and here's your bedroom through the next door on your right! Use this tiny but thankfully brand-new space heater for all 16 square meters of it. It's sure to heat the two feet nearby quite nicely! Go ahead and move the beds if you don't like banging your legs on them the second you enter the room. It's your apartment, you can do what you want! Once you've moved them away from the door, just try not to gag at the coating of dust, abandoned condom packages (complete with a nudie pic), and, yes, that is a fish carcass. You might think finding a dried-out, decaying fish under one of your new beds is unusual, but darling! Then you wouldn't be living! Who doesn't like to enjoy a mug of beer and some dried fish in bed?
Once you've cleaned everything a couple of times, you'll be tired-out. Why not boil yourself a nice cup of tea in your new electric kettle (from here on out referred to as a "chainik", a much better word in my opinion)? What's that you say? Sudden darkness? Oh, poor thing, didn't you know that to have two heaters, the fridge, and your electric kettle all plugged in at once would overload the system? You've got to unplug something if you want to have boiled water. Just wait two hours for the landlady to come and show you how to flip the fuse by the door. Silly American.
That, my friends, in a nutshell, is my new little corner of paradise. And I love every inch, every moment of it. I am proud to declare myself a truly seasoned Peace Corps Volunteer as I have now successfully taken two wonderful bucket baths, complete with heating the water on the stove and scooping the combined hot (from the bucket)/cold (from the tap) water over me. How refreshing!
Although, last night I did find myself dreaming about Target...
