There should be something personal

 My name is Sasha Nikolaeva, I am a Russian journalist. I came to
America two months ago and during this time many of the stereotypes
that were lined up in my mind in an orderly fashion, forming a certain
image of America that was extremely curious to me, transformed so much
that I can’t recognize it now. Some of them disappeared completely.
America has changed, getting closer, because every day I have to
overcome the unexpected obstacles that are emerging on my way. Such
collaboration make us closer by tug of war when this country

doesn’t allow me to get some rest and immerse myself in the rhythm of
life, but I stubbornly try to understand its rules and morality. But
on the other hand this western country became very distant, because
here I am forced to live by the laws that are totally alien to me. In
my mind there is no more of that, my America, which it always has
been. And now I discover it anew.

Yesterday, I was slightly acquainted with the Universiry of California, Berkeley. My friend showed me the Russian library in a huge building where the offices
of eastern culture are located. I was surprised we hadn't problems getting

into the building and nobody asked us to show our id. In Russia you
can’t just go to the department, you must show your student card to
guards. But unfortunately, the library was closed. However Russian
names on the doors of this eastern department were encouraging and
when I saw the photos of my hometown of St. Petersburg on the wall I
felt myself completely immersed in this international university
atmosphere. I realized that people, who come here to learn the Russian
language, are close to me because we have the same feeling of
inquisitiveness that doesn’t have borders. Those people are interested
in Russia, just as I was fascinated by America. This is our
similarities, and it allows us to better understand each other.
An unexplored reality reminded about itself when I, filled with the
university air, got out of this monastery of knowledge.
We were returning to the hotel, passing by shops, cafes and some

unidentified institutions. Out of the corner of my eye I watched myself,
reflected in numerous showcases. Suddenly, the reflection was gone, and I saw 

in the showcase someone's attentive stare, aiming for some

reason the bottom up. At first I did not realize what it was, but

looked more in the shop window, I realized that girls in some
unbelievable positions  are looking at me. Next to her are a few others bent
in the same position. I got what was happening behind the glass in a
little bit because I have done the same thing, and I know what yoga is.

But would I not go to a club where you are forced to deal with looking
at people passing by? Never. I don’t understand the meaning of this
openness.... Yoga - this is something personal, it's a training of
body and soul. This is in some measure loneliness in which you can
learn yourself ... And anyway, I personally would not like if everyone

in the street staring at my body bent in the position of a

triangle ... I want to concentrate on myself, but not on

other people's opinions ... So what are those people interested in?

Yoga? Well, it is questionable. I think they just pay their money to
show how good they are.
But the owner of the club can only be commended for finding a
business. Open windows are the best advertisement for the club. In my
opinion, this place is one of the best indicators of an American
insincerity. I saw a desire not to be better and more perfect, but to
pretend that you're so in this club window. It is an example of an
American fake. Isn't it?