CLOUDS

Ha! 3 days ago I was walking to my room when one of the russian guys from the program stopped me and offered me some whiskey. I could not refuse, after work, so I went inside and relished a short drinking session, where I had 2 or 3 drinks with the only 2 russian guys in the program.

They are real russians. One is crazy, and is hated by all americans because he likes to touch girls without their permission. The other is quiet, calm, traditional tough russian guy. Both drink often and create problems within the community. They were not meant to last long here.

The experience is something I’ve always wanted to do, after being pegged with the russian drinking stereotype in college, despite the fact that I haven’t ever even been in Russia. Now I could see how its done.

When Americans drink, we put on some music or something, and pull out a beer from a case. We drink when we feel like it, without any pressure, or rules, or routine.

3 days ago, the only thing I noticed was that, when they drink, they prepare tons of food on the table. Hot dogs (minus the buns), mayonnaise, traditional russian bread, tons of garlic, pieces of chicken, meats, etc. After taking a drink they would take a bite of bread with meat.

Overall it was a very pleasing experience because I felt a camaraderie not often present in american circles. I noticed the sentiments before when I accompanied my parents to their russian parties, but never really experienced it myself.

Anyways, I felt I should return the favor so I bought another bottle of whiskey and brought it to their room, yesterday. Had I known what would happen, I would have taken it to my room instead.

Immediately the crazy one said, this is no good, we need more if we want to do this right. So he went out and bought another bottle.

After the whiskey was sufficiently cold, we took out 3 cups, turned on some music (vysotsky, of course) and started pouring double shots. After each drink, we would eat some garlic, turkey, and bread, etc. 5 minutes later, we would repeat. This continued until we finished the first bottle, at which point we switched to the second. I noticed that, in addition to the routine feel of the process, there was an underlying sense of competition. Perhaps they felt that they had to prove how much better russians drink than americans, or perhaps they simply wanted to assert their dominance over me, but in either case, there was no slowing down. There was no mention of stopping until near the end, when I started hearing statements like,

“I will now pour myself another. I can pour you one too, but only if you feel that you can handle it.”

“I will now pour myself another. Before I pour yours, I want you to think very carefully about your decision, and I will pour it only when you are ready.”

Since I was feeling fine, I kept up with them until we were done. At that point I could see the gears slowing down in their heads, as they started wrestling each other. I left the room for an appointment I had made with someone earlier.

After the appointment, I went to the computer room to check my email. I did not feel good sitting in the room so I left, and the walk to the rooms made me feel better.

But when I got back, chaos had erupted. The crazy one was running around with his hands out, touching any poor soul who got trapped in a corner or stumbled to the ground. People yelling everywhere!

The worst was the quiet, shy guy. After drinking, I noticed he was 3-4 inches taller and appeared to be much much stronger. I was told to help immediately because he was causing trouble in a room; when I got there he was threatening to kill someone because they accidentally popped a balloon and it scared him.

After getting him out, it was one after another. He wanted to kill everyone. I had to physically remove him from people, and I was repeatedly telling him that he was hurting his own friends. After a while, he started saying this is not my friend. Then i would say, but he is my friend, and you are my friend, correct? And he would say yes, yes you are my friend.

Then after that conversation repeated 100 times, he stopped agreeing with me. Suddenly I wasnt his friend anymore, and I needed more help, which was provided by other guys in the ulpan.

With hulk tied down by 8 guys, and gropey lost somewhere in the woods, I had a few moments to enjoy my stupor. I was still ok, I was just smiling alot and saying silly things. Then the director came to sort out the problems, and I went to my room, where I fell asleep.

The two russian guys were kicked out this morning. Farewell my friends, I am sorry it had to end this way.