Voting for Marriage Equality in Russia

Well, actually I’ve voted against a discriminatory definition of marriage for Minnesota, while I happen to be sitting in Russia… And this utilization of my U.S. constitutional right to vote, possible due to the overseas absentee voter process, is pretty awesome.

Back this summer, I used the Overseas Vote Foundation website to register myself to vote from abroad. I printed a few forms, filled them out, signed them, scanned them and emailed them in. A day or two later I received a confirmation of my registration. Then, about a week ago (6 weeks before Election Day, November 6), I received my ballot and instructions for submission.

The next day at work, I giddily printed the materials, which included the ballot, a template for the ballot envelop, the certificate of eligibility, a template for a U.S. postage paid mailing envelope, and the general instructions. A couple of my Russian colleagues were curious to see the ballot, so I showed it to them (before I had made any markings, of course, as the instructions clearly state all markings must be made in secret). They were interested that we vote on so many different things at once, and some of the things we vote on in general, like judges or school boards, or soil and water conservation district supervisor, especially when many of these candidates run unopposed. I told them it’s weird for us too, since we have no idea what many of the positions are actually about, or who the candidates are. But that’s democracy; we have a right and responsibility to elect these people.

My 2012 election materials.

After I filled out my ballot and enclosed it in its secret envelope, I filled out my certificate of eligibility. Minnesota does not currently have a voter ID law (that’s another constitutional amendment on my ballot this year), and these were my instructions: “Print your passport number, Minnesota driver’s license number, Minnesota ID card number, or the last four digits of your Social Security Number. If you do not have access to any of these documents, leave this space blank.” Of course, to even be living abroad, I must have a U.S. passport number, and on my registration paperwork (from this summer) I was asked for either my Minnesota driver’s license number or my passport number. So, there are some identification/anti-fraud measures in place, but the emphasis is definitely on making the voting process as accessible to me (as a registered, eligible voter), as possible.

I voted!

With everything completed, I put together my pre-addressed, U.S. postage paid envelope and tucked everything inside. Not completely trusting the Russian postal services with this special delivery, I asked a contact at the U.S. Consulate here if I could send the ballot via diplomatic pouch (an option listed in my instructions) and she said that wouldn’t be a problem. So, 40 days before the 2012 election I handed my voting materials to a U.S. diplomat at a reception celebrating the 20 year anniversary of the U.S. Consulate operating in Vladivostok.

The diplomat who is helping serve as my ballot box for this election.

So, “I VOTED,” even though I won’t get a nifty sticker to prove it this year. And if I can vote in my local elections from over 7,000 miles away, I greatly hope all eligible voters I know in the U.S. do their civic duty and make it to the polls on November 6, or get their absentee ballots in on time.

The constant calculations of living abroad

Last year, results of a study crediting bilingualism with delaying the onset of diseases such as dementia and Alzheimer’s were published in several prominent newspapers. Learning and speaking multiple languages, the results suggest, improves cognitive skills and boosts brain performance. Switching between languages reportedly stimulates the brain and builds up a cognitive reserve.

So, this should be good news for me. Even when my head is jumbled between speaking Russian with colleagues in the office and writing emails in English to partner institutions and translating legal contracts and health care policies going back and forth in the languages, I’m supposedly building up my cognitive reserve.

Unfortunately, dealing with another language is only a small part of the translations/conversions/calculations I find myself doing daily while living in Russia, and sometimes they can be completely overwhelming. Here’s a list of the most persistent issues:

1). Time. Vladivostok’s time zone (VLAST) is GMT/UTC +11. We have no daylight saving time/summer time/what have you. Most of my personal contacts live in the United States, so to calculate their current time, I add 5-9 hours (dependent on where they are in the U.S. and whether they’re on daylight saving time or not) and then subtract a day. My professional contacts are all over the world, so I find myself subtracting 3 hours, or 7 hours, or 11 hours, to determine when someone is available for a skype meeting etc. However, most frequently I find myself subtracting 12, because military time means NOTHING to me, and it is used rather frequently here. And don’t get me wrong, I can easily interpret 16:25 or 19:50, but I’m always going to instantly convert those to 4:25 p.m. or 7:50 p.m. My mind simply thinks in 12 hour time.

2). Measurements. I do understand that it would be completely economically unfeasible to switch the U.S. to the metric system, but when Americans go abroad we are at a serious disadvantage. I have linear metric measurements somewhat in hand at this point, and can appreciate the length of a kilometer or my own height in centimeters, but weights and cooking measurements still throw me. And baby stats! Tell me how many pounds, ounces and inches a baby is and I can comprehend you… but I have no frame of reference when I hear how many grams and centimeters a newborn is.

Didn’t stop us from completing a beautiful landing on Mars though!

3). Temperature. Understanding what the weather will be like for the week is pretty important, so I’ve done a good job of adapting to Celsius in this regard. 0 C is cold -15 C is quite cold. 20 C is pretty great 30+ C is hot. But if you ask me what the temperature is like in Minnesota this time of year, I will seriously struggle to give a Celsius equivalent. “Uh, I don’t know… it’s not Celsius there, it’s Fahrenheit… it’s maybe 50-65 F?” I also struggle to know what a healthy body temperature is… I mean 98.6 F is pretty ingrained. 37 C just doesn’t have the same association.

4). Currency. At this point, a Russian ruble really has its own understanding of value in my mind. I appreciate the value of 30 rubles, 150 rubles, or even 5,000 rubles. Beyond that, which is about $160, I need to calculate the sum back into U.S. dollars, but this only comes up if I’m buying plane tickets, exchanging money etc. On occasion, a colleague will ask me how many rubles 2 U.S. cents is (about 60 kopecks, actually, not even a ruble), or tell me the ruble to Chinese Yuan exchange rate and the Yuan price of a hotel in China… and then I get completely confused and need to do a whole series of calculations.

So, are all these constant calculations (often prompted, examined and expressed in a mix of English and Russian) building my cognitive reserve or just slowly making me insane? Time will tell…

Rooting for the Ruble

One of the biggest identity (and loyalty) shifts I’ve had since moving to Russia regards currency. Though many western foreigners negotiate their salaries to be pegged to the Euro or the USD, this has never been an option for me, so my salary exists within the whims of the Russian ruble. And though it is certainly interesting to have a seven figure yearly income, it can be stressful to watch the currency markets constantly in flux.

Today, 1 USD equals 31.16 rubles. When I first arrived the rate was around 29.5, and in my eight months here the rate has ranged from about 29 to 34. (I don’t totally understand the math, but this article states that the ruble had lost 12% of its value relative to the USD at this low point in May). Considering I spend most of my time in ruble-using Russia, this fluctuation doesn’t affect my daily life when buying groceries or going to see a movie. However, it does make a big difference in comparison with my single greatest expense right now: paying back my student loans in the U.S. These payments must of course be made in U.S. dollars, and aside from the actual value I lose exchanging my rubles into dollars and through wire transfer fees, the relative value of my income compared to the value of my outstanding loans is always in flux.

The USD to Russian Ruble exchange rate for the past 12 months.

And this challenges my American patriotism, because though I want the U.S. economy to strengthen, I whole-heartedly root for the ruble over the dollar these days. When it comes to the greater scope of currency wars the intricacies of the issues can be a little too mathematical for me, so for now I’ll stick to knowing lower USD to ruble exchange rate = good for me.

Maybe the Russian Ruble is a nuclear submarine sneaking around somewhere below them all?

Putin on the Ritz

A favored Internet meme of Russophiles has forver colored the way I will think of Irving Berlin’s classic song “Puttin’ on the Ritz.” You see, when you have a stoic figurehead named Putin and such a deliciously tasty snack like Ritz crackers, it only stands to reason that silly things will happen… like this:

Though I enjoy this meme, it makes me even happier when I see how Russians have gotten in on the joke, using “Puttin’ on the Ritz” for various performances, like a flash mob in Moscow (just before the elections… although I’m sure this huge production wasn’t a campaign tactic or anything), or at a local dance school showcase I recently attended.

I’m sorry I didn’t get better quality video, but this awesomeness at the dance showcase caught me by surprise, so it was all I could do to document it at all. I was grinning like a fool by the time they were done, for the humorous song choice and for how much fun the students were clearly having.

And here’s the Moscow flash mob, including helicopter footage…