In Soviet Russia, Homeless People Feed YOU

Among other things (more about that in a later post), I've been volunteering at Nochlezhka a homeless shelter/soup kitchen. I decided to work at Nochlezhka because, unlike the other volunteering opportunities, this involved actually seeing what was going on behind the facade of Petersburg's incredible architecture.

My first day, I managed to find the building ok. I spoke with Andrei, who force-fed me tea and cookies, and was told to wait for a little bit while he went out and did stuff. Luckily, I had come prepared (meaning, I knew that I had no idea how long whether this first meeting would last an hour or seven), so I was content to wait. Andrei returned an hour later and informed me that I would be going out on the south-bound bus.

On the way out, he further explained the set-up of Nochlezhka. The main building houses homeless people in the winter and has a kitchen in which all the food is prepared. Five nights a week, two buses go out, one north-bound, the other south. These buses each make 3 or 4 stops and give out soup, bread, and tea to anyone who wants it. The first night passed without incident and I left, ready to return the following week.

My next experience with Nochlezhka, of course, went awry. First of all, I was overly confident in my ability to find the place (took a right instead of a left outside of the metro station) and didn't realize I was headed in the wrong direction until ten minutes after I was supposed to be there. I called Andrei in a panic, he insisted I still come, and I ran.

We left soon after I arrived, only to stop fifteen minutes later and wait for half an hour for another volunteer who never showed. That's one good thing about Russia: someone will always match your failures.

The first stop started off ok. I was working with a Russian named Dima, who wanted to practice his French on me (as he said, volunteering–ca c'est dans mon coeur). (Side note: the other volunteers at Nochlezhka keep complimenting me on my desire to volunteer. While volunteering is a little unusual in Russia, these people too are volunteers, so it seems a little odd to be particularly impressed with me). Anyway, Dima and I were laughing with a homeless man who had approached us several times, each time with a different drawing: first Stalin, then Lenin, then me, when a man who had been lurking off to the side came up.

"Hello. Can I interview you?"
"Uhh...what??"
"Can I interview you? It's for a TV show."
"Um, I guess? You know I'm an American and don't really speak Russian, right?"

He nodded and the interview commenced. I later asked Dima what the hell had happened; apparently Channel 100 was doing a story on Nochlezhka and had heard that an American would be out that night. So my not-so-great Russian skills were put on display for all of St. Petersburg to see. Great.