Fight with the Hooligans!!

I love this Soviet-era poster that Glen found in St. Petersburg during our trip there last semester. We have it hanging up in the teachers office. It encourages the Good Soviet Citizen to fight with the hooligans (i.e. the "enemies of the state" and so on). Considering that nearly all the 4:00pm classes are chock full of hooligans, this is a good poster to boost teacher morale. Oddly enough, my hooligan-hour class is deathly silent. I mean, in nearly all classes, the students chat with one another during the 10 minutes before class, but not these guys. They all sit there, staring at their notebooks in utter silence. All the way through class, getting participation is like pulling teeth. I think these kids are simply very shy. Surely, they would talk to one another in Russian otherwise! My hooligani class from last semester was quiet as death for about the first two classes, then suddenly hooliganism erupted. Poor G (who was the only teacher last semester without genuine hooligani) now has my hooligans from last semester, and I think it's a bit of a shock for him. Every Tuesday and Friday, after my non-hooligans quietly slink out of the classroom, G's hooligans come running up to me shouting "Hello Annie!" and having short conversations with me. (I donated a copy of Prisoner of Wonderland to the AH library, and one of my former hooligans - who, to her credit, was the smartest and best behaved student in the class - checked it out today! How cool is that?) Anyway, while I don't really miss having to shout over the hooligan-din, I wish my 4:00 class would say something. Hell, even answering me in Russian would be an improvement. Any suggestions?

We The Living

B has pretty much become my own personal librarian here; she keeps giving me really fantastic things to read, and as such, I have yet another book review for you. This one actually has rather a lot to do with Russia, so I don't feel that little twinge of guilt that I sometimes feel when I write about various nonsense that has nothing to do with Russia whatsoever.

Anyhow, the most recent book-from-B was Ayn Rand's We the Living. I know tons of people hate Ayn Rand... but this book is a lot less about her political/lifestyle beliefs, and a lot more about what went on after the October Revolution, and is a really great read. The book follows the lives and relationships of three individuals and their friends and families in the period shortly following the October Revolution and the end of the Russian civil war. This was an amazing book, a completely beautiful (yet utterly terrible) tale of love, life and individuality, and the struggle of the individual against the Communist State. I often re-read books, but very rarely do I read one all the way through and immediately want to return to the beginning to start again. I finished the book last night, and if I hadn't unabashedly cried my way through the last 100 pages, I would have begun re-reading it last night as well. As it is, I think I need to give my soul a break. But this book is amazing. 

Now, I know that Ayn Rand tends to be one of those polarizing writers whom people tend to either love or hate... well, I haven't read anything by her other than We the Living, so I'm not even going to get into that debate. However, Any Rand said that We the Living "...is as close to an autobiography as I will ever write. The plot is invented but the background is not. The specific events of Kira's life were not mine; her ideas, her convictions, her values, were and are." I found myself utterly in love with the character, Kira, and I identified with her in many ways. This makes me feel like perhaps I should read some more Ayn Rand. If I do, I'll let you know what I think.

A long, odd, tasty day

Today was American Lunch. We have American and Russian lunches every so often, during which each group (American or Russian) cooks a traditional meal from their country for the rest of the group (20+ people). We weren't entirely traditional-American; we cooked fajitas, refried beans, rice, and sopapillas, with sangria to drink. I don't know what you guys normally eat, but when I'm at home I pretty much consume 40% Italian and 40% Mexican, with the rest being filled by Chinese food and whatever the hell "traditional American food" is. Burgers and fries? I dunno. Anyway, we arrived at 10:00am and began cooking the feast, which included fresh, homemade salsa and guacamole, and everything was utterly, orgasmically delicious. I hadn't realized how much I missed Mexican food. So yummy. Yum. Of course, between staying late last night to make sangria, coming in early to cook, and drinking a bunch of wine and sangria and eating a big meal... by the time all was said and done, I was exhausted, and stumbled upstairs and fell onto the couch for what I hoped would be an hour-long nap before my conversation class. 

Well, due to my schedule, Wednesdays are the only days that I can have Office Hours. Last semester, I had very few students come at all. I have had more students this semester so far than I had all last semester. I don't mind, normally, but you all know how happy I am when I am awakened prematurely from a nap. I spent a good couple of pre-conversation-class hours feeling pretty bitter. And sleepy. Hooray for the wonders of Excedrin. I know, I know, you shouldn't take the stuff just to wake up, but sometimes, you just gotta do what you gotta do to not fall asleep in front of the class. At the end of my last conversation class, I gave my students an article about me and my mom, which appeared in the local paper back in October, for the purpose of leading into a discussion regarding volunteering, why people do it, whether or not people should do it, if any of them volunteer, why/why not, etc. It was actually a very interesting discussion, with several of the students being very self-serving and wholly uninterested in the concept, several who have volunteered or who are interested in volunteering but don't have the time or money, and one guy who even brought his own proposal for a volunteer project our class could do. (I must say it didn't go over very well with the group). Teehee. No longer feeling bitter. Am craving more Mexican food. Too bad we ate it all...

Russians in Pusan, a Candlelight Bath, and an Electronic Death

Russians in Pusan

One of my VEMZ students is going on a bit of a boondoggle trip to Pusan next month. Apparently it is a legitimate business-trip (I forget the company he's to be meeting with), but he has a family friend who lives there, and they've already begun planning on "enjoying the nightlife"! It was really exciting, telling him about the different things to see and do in Pusan, and I'm sure he'll have a great time. However, when I mentioned the Choryang Shopping Area for Foreigners (essentially the Russian district) and told him that it was full of Russians, he told me that they were all criminals there illegally and the area should be avoided! Hmmm. Whoopsie.

A Candlelight Bath

The power went out on the north side (my side) of my block of Prospect Lenina last night around 9pm. I'm not sure how long it was out... I went to bed at 11:30, and it was still off, although everything was working this morning. Luckily the heating systems are not connected to the electricity (it got down to -30C last night), and Nina M. busted out the candles. We had a long chat about the power grid, and the electric wiring in the apartment. Apparently, it's given to all sorts of spasms and jolts, which frequently fry electronics, and which once set Nina M's television on fire. This gives a new glimpse into what somehow bypassed my surge protector to fry my AC/DC converter and char my motherboard. Sigh. I took a shower by candlelight, which was interesting, mainly because Nina M. kept insisting that it would be romantic. Um, what? A shower by myself is missing one of the key components needed to make it romantic. But I swear she mentioned the candlelight-shower-is-romantic thing at least four times. An odd sense of humor she has. Anyway, I stayed up until 11:30 reading by candlelight, and developing a new appreciation for all those people who lived in the pre-electrified world and managed to accomplish things by candlelight.

An Electronic Death

My baby Compaq is truly dead. Finito. Time to bury him. My harddrive has been installed on the server here at the AH, so I once again have access to all my files (tons of photos, all those wonderful *.png files, and the WD40 story, among others... yay!). Unfortunately, this was done because there is no hope for my laptop. It cannot be repaired. Period. [Insert profanity here.] It seems I shall now be buying a new laptop.

Victor Fedin photoshoot - part 2

I went and picked up my photos from my photoshoot this morning. I am feeling a little silly having spent so much money on unneeded photos (especially when I need to be saving money for things like fixing/replacing my computer, my upcoming trip to Moscow and that house I'm planning to buy...) and I totally prefer photos with scenery or friends to studio prop-shots, BUT I can justify this as helping out a friend of a friend and helping the Russian economy. And really, when am I ever going to do this ever again? I've selected three out of the whole bundle that I purchased to go online. The one at the bottom is the most absurd photo I've ever been in...

I hope it warms up a little soon...

Before it got all bitter-cold, I pretty much spent whatever free time I had walking around the city, taking pictures. Unfortunately, since the temps dropped, I've been spending as much time as possible in the relative warmth of the inside (the AH being toasty-warm; my apartment, not so much). soon I'll be going to Moscow for five days, leaving on February 22nd, and I'm very much hoping that it will be at least back up in the "warm" -7C range. I plan to spend five days exploring and photographing Moscow, and I hope I don't end up spending five days enjoying the warmth of my hostel. It's -23C out there right now. On my way in to the AH this afternoon, I figured I should start preparing for Moscow by walking around, taking some photos in the frigid-cold. I took three. Not far from the AH. Then I scurried inside; my fingers and nose were seriously aching from the cold. I got three good pictures (below), although I was starting to worry about getting frostbite as well. The weather channel is predicting -22F for tomorrow. Fine... but please, can we get a warm(ish) front in here for the 22nd?

Snow-covered tree. Obviously.

Trinity Church (Museum of Blown Glass and Laquered Boxes)

Trinity church again...

Victor Fedin photoshoot - part 1

One of my VEMZ students (one who began studying with me last semester, and who is one of my best students) has a very good friend named Victor Fedin who is a professional photographer. She has mentioned him numerous times throughout all of our classes together and when, last week, she suggested that I go for a professional photo shoot, I couldn't think of a decent reason to say no. (Well, other than I don't *need* a professional photo shoot for any reason whatsoever, but my student didn't seem to think that was a good excuse. Of course I need a professional photo shoot!) So, I agreed and went and had an absurd amount of pictures taken this morning. It was a lot of fun actually, with all sorts of interesting props and lighting effects. I really have no need for any of these pictures, but when am I ever going to have such a photo shoot ever again? Mmm, never. Unfortunately, even though I'm only getting the pictures on a disk, instead of actual hard copies, I won't be able to pick it up until Monday. So, you don't get to see any of this absurdity just yet. Instead I'm posting some images from a flyer promoting Mr. Fedin's current photo-exhibition here in Vladimir, which now I am definitely planning to go see.

Getting Your Money's Worth

Obviously, whoever decided it would be a good idea for VEMZ employees to learn English didn't really think the process through. The whole waffling rigmarole from the beginning of the semester (where they went back and forth on whether or not they wanted classes before finally deciding that yes they did, but could only afford to pay for ten of them...) aside, it seems that the overall let's-learn-English decision making process was flawed.

The American Home gives all potential new students an extensive written and oral examination in order to place them in the appropriate level. Our curriculum is set up on a ten-level system, from level 1 (no English skills) through 10 (fluent), with each level structured to prepare students to move into the following level with success. Testing of new students serves to place them in the group best suited to their abilities. (Granted, testing is not always flawless; sometimes students cheat and score higher than their actual level; other times students are nervous and thus score lower. Because of this, we do allow students to change their course level if, after the first five classes the student and his/her teacher agree that he/she has been placed incorrectly.)

The course I taught at VEMZ last semester was Level 2. All of my students passed, and were ready to begin Level 3. As a result of the popularity of the class, there was increased interest among VEMZ employees in studying English, and a group of them took the AH placement exam. They all scored into an advanced Level 1 or a low Level 2 class. None of them were remotely close to scoring into a Level 3 class. The AH advised VEMZ of this... and yet VEMZ decided that all of their employees would study together.

This has made for a very frustrating classroom situation for both me and for all of the students. Imagine trying to discuss the difference between present perfect and simple past when half of your class doesn't know how to properly conjugate the present simple! (Not to mention that my students from last semester have a gigantic English language vocabulary in comparison to my new students.) So I end up spending half the class teaching half the students one thing and half the class teaching the other half the students something else. Initially when I learned that the VEMZ class was only going to last ten sessions, I planned to give them an intensive course of study so they could learn as much of Level 3 as possible in ten classes. Instead, I'm afraid that despite my best efforts, none of them will end up getting all that much out of our ten sessions together.

The reason why VEMZ is paying for its employees to study English is because they are expanding their motor-selling market into other countries, and they consider English the language of international trade. But is it really worth paying for your employees to study when you place them in a situation guaranteed to stunt their learning? If you can't tell, I'm feeling pretty frustrated by all of this. But, as I only have five more classes out at VEMZ, perhaps I shouldn't worry about it too much.

Rocks, Islands, Babies and Jack White

Well, I gave my lesson about Simon and Garfunkel's "I am a Rock" this evening, and it went pretty well. I actually tried to set it up in such a way that we could avoid the bitter-love-is-bad angle of discussion, although it did wind up there eventually. Anyway, I started them off by giving them the first half of the lyrics to the White Stripes song "The Hardest Button to Button" as follows:

We started living in an old house
My ma gave birth
And we were checking it out
It was a baby boy
So we bought him a toy
It was a ray gun
And it was 1981
We named him 'Baby'
He had a toothache
He started crying
It sounded like an earthquake
It didn't last long
Because I stopped it
I grabbed a rag doll
And stuck some little pins in it
Now we're a family
And we're all right now
We got money
And a little place to fight now
We don't know you
And we don't owe you
But if you see us around
I got something else to show you

We discussed the themes of this segment of the lyrics... family, babies, children, the types of problems that come with having children, whether or not it was a happy song. Then we talked about what kind of music should accompany a song about family. Let's just say they weren't expecting Jack White. (Why didn't I bring Elephant with me? I mean, Get Behind Me Satan - which I have - is a a better album, but Elephant is still freakin' fantastic... and yet it's in the US somewhere. I only have two songs off it on my music-for-class CDs, and right now I'm craving the whole album... What was I thinking? But I digress.)

When we got to the discussion of the meaning behind "I am a Rock" they all agreed that the song was by someone who had been hurt and love, and who was bitter... We also got into a discussion about how men and women can't be just friends (!) and how you can't be friends with someone you love (!) - their opinions, not mine. I brought up the old, "It is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all" quote, and everyone agreed with it. I have a class full of optimists, and to be honest, I felt a lot better about the world, life and humanity when I left.

Baby B is here!

Congratulations to my coworker Male B and his wife Alyona... their son was born last night :-) I'll post a picture or two as soon as I can. As it is, Alyona will be in the maternity hospital through Monday or Tuesday, and Male B has only been able to see his baby a couple of times (very different from the American way of allowing the father in the delivery room and all). Congratulations!

What would you talk about?

Last week was my first conversation class. Conversation class number two will be this Wednesday. In my first class, I gave the students a survey to see what things they would like to discuss and what things they wouldn't. While the things they were interested in discussing were wide ranging, they seemed unanimously opposed to discussing politics and religion. So barring politics and religion, any suggestions? This class, while far more advanced than the beginning levels that I normally teach, consists of students who are very advanced but definitely below the fluent and almost-fluent groups that B and J have, so anything they would be given to read/discuss would need to be graded to their level. At the end of last class, I gave them the lyrics to Simon and Garfunkel's "I am a Rock" to read over, with the idea that we would listen to and discuss the song in the next class. Unfortunately, I can't come up with a topic that could follow the discussion of this song in a coherent manner other than the concept of the Professional Hermit (which probably appeals only to me), so any suggestions would be welcome!

apparently I have low blood pressure

Yesterday was really quite scary, not just because of my catastrophic skiing experience, but because of what came after. Following the skiing debacle, I felt healthy enough to take the trolleybus to the AH to blog about the event and to check my email. I'd been here for about two hours when I started to get a headache. This is pretty common for me, but I figured I should go home and lie down. On the bus ride home, I began to feel sick, and barely made it through the door before vomiting. I won't go into all of the disgusting details, but suffice it to say that for a period of about five hours I had an excruciating headache (not a migraine, but the same kind of pain) and and inability to keep anything down. I was also going back and forth between swealtering hot-flashes and chills. Nina M., who has high blood pressure, and who is constantly monitoring it, took out her BP cuff and checked my blood pressure. It was so low that she decided to call "skoro pomoch" ("quick help"), the Russian equivalent of 911. The woman who arrived from quick help was neither quick nor helpful, and while she confirmed that I did indeed have low blood-pressure, she said I wasn't dying and seemed put out that we'd bothered her. Nina M. says that I need to eat lots of chocolate and drink lots of coffee, so as to raise my blood pressure (twist my arm!). This is all kind of scary. I felt fine when I woke up this morning, and I hope it lasts... [WebMD about low blood pressure]

I am *so* NOT a snow bunny

Yesterday I agreed to meet J, Y, and N for skiing this morning at 11a.m. This seemed like a good idea at the time (even though I'd never been skiing before) as it was only -7C (and as I commented the other day, after the utter frigid temps of a short while ago, -7C is pretty warm). This morning I got up early, got dressed and then learned that it was -20C outside. Instead of doing the sensible thing and crawling back under the covers, I figured I should go skiing anyway. I went back into my room and added a few more layers of warmth, had my breakfast, and set off on the skiing adventure.

Well, it was a pretty miserable experience, and I don't really imagine that it's one I'll be repeating any time soon. Or ever. First there was the problem with me, the girl who has never skied before moving forward at an unbelievably slow pace, falling over with a resounding whump! every few feet. Not to mention that small children were whizzing past me expertly every couple of seconds... somewhat disheartening. Plus I couldn't feel my fingers at all.

We weren't out there very long, maybe about 15-20 minutes or so. Maybe less, I don't know for sure. I was starting to feel slightly better about the skiing thing (by which I mean I was moving forward and not falling as much), but I started to feel overheated. How can a person feel overheated when it's -20C??? The physical exertion of skiing combined with a billion layers of winter clothes? Maybe. Anyhow, have any of you ever passed out from being overheated? Well, I have had this experience before a few times (what comes of growing up in Florida), but I certainly didn't expect to have this experience while outdoors at -20C. Yep, I passed out. First I started feeling really hot and dizzy and had to sit down a few times. (At this point I discovered that one of my hand warmers had burst open, spewing charcoal - or whatever it's made of - all over my hand and the inside of my glove. Lovely.) Anyway, I decided that I needed to go back. I took off my skis and decided simply to walk back, and J, Y, and N were nice enough to agree to come with me. Which was quite fortunate, as I made it about five seconds, then passed out, face-first in the snow. Lovely.

So, I'm lying there with my face in the snow, being told that I really should *not* have my face in the snow, and thinking about how I needed to get up but couldn't. I found myself thinking about two things: ONE: That time in Doc Salzburg's class when we had to rub the garlic on the bottoms of our feet, and then could taste garlic. Mmmm, osmosis, yummy. Which led me to wonder if I'd been poisoned by my broken hand warmer. And TWO: That unbelievably depressing Jack London story To Build A Fire (about that dude in the Yukon who freezes to death at seventy below zero). Cheery. Well, they helped me to my feet and helped me walk back to the ski-rental place. At first I was still all dizzy and really hot, trying to remove my hat and scarf and gloves so that I could cool down, but by the time we got back to where this adventure had begun, I was feeling properly cold again. And neither dizzy nor sick to my stomach. So, yeah, I feel fine now. I guess I'm just not meant to go skiing.

WD40ian Literature

Those of you who know me well, or who have been following my adventures in the blogosphere for a lengthy amount of time, will probably have noticed that I have a tendancy to bring up WD40 periodically and inexplicably. Well, sorry to disappoint, but you won't get an explanation from me today. In fact, as the 65+ pages of the as yet unfinished WD40 story are locked in the harddrive of a dead computer from which I may never recover them, it may very well be that you will never know what I'm talking about. Let's just say that it refers to an extremely bizarre period in my life which began almost exactly eleven years ago. Ever since, anything which yields a poignant reminder to that time has inevitably been described by me as "WD40ian."

Some WD40ian things:

ancient Egypt

Arthurian Britain

Stars, by Hum

Ghost World

Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West

The other day, my coworkers and I were discussing taxes, and Brooke said, "What's that form called that you get from your employer? All I can think of right now is 'WD40,' but I know that's not right." (Melissa, let's just say that I totally thought of you right then!) While we may have come down to Earth with Britt piping up with, "W-2!" from the other room, I feel I should bring this up, as Brooke is the person who provided me with the item most recently described be me as WD40ian: A Trip To The Stars by Nicholas Christopher.

My apologies to those of you who don't know what I mean when I say WD40ian, but that's simply the best way for me to describe A Trip To The Stars. Let's just say that the book is incredibly magical, although set in the mundane real world of the 1960s-1970s. The author all but beats you over the head with star/space-related imagery, although I for one utterly love that kind of stuff. There's a pyramid of significance, although it's not Egyptian, and there are so many coincidences that you, as the reader, will find yourself wanting to scream at the characters, "Dammit - why can't you see that it's a sign?!"

Over the past few years I have found myself developing an overly fatalistic view of life (which I must say has solidified over the past few months), and even though we never mentioned it back in the day, WD40 was pretty fatalistic. And well, A Trip To The Stars could also be summed up as a fantastical lesson in fatalism. If that intrigues you, get yourself a copy. Otherwise, well, I didn't want you on my planet anyway.

Chronic Failures

So here's a question directed at those of you out there who are teachers (ESL or otherwise). What do you do about chronic failures? This semester, I am teaching three classes of ZII (second level). Two of my students are taking ZII for the second time, having both completely failed it last semester. The students have very different personalities. One tries very hard, but never comes up with the right answer. The other doesn't try at all, and doesn't come to class half the time either. Last Friday I administered the first quiz of the semester, which focused on the present simple of the verbs to be, to work, to do, to study and to teach. Nearly all of my students in all three classes received As, and most of the students who didn't make As made Bs... but the two students who have already sat through (and failed) an entire semester of ZII totally bombed the test, receiving the two lowest grades of all of my students. I will ask them both to come to my office hours, although I had one of these students last semester, and he never appeared during my office hours, despite repeated requests. Perhaps I will fare better with the other one. It's very frustrating. Suggestions? Helpful hints? Anything?

Let's chat!

I just got out of my first ever conversation class, and it went really well (or at least I think so).I took pictures of ten of my friends from myspace.com and placed the pictures on a page and gave everyone a copy. We discussed what characteristics might belong to each individual, and let me just say that doing this with people whom you know really well is absolutely hilarious. M, according to my students, you're a veterinarian (probably because in the pic you're holding a cat); G, you're shy but very nice; P, you're a big party girl probably dating M. I swear my students just about pissed themselves with laughter when I told them that M was my ex-boyfriend from LONG long ago... Anyway, that was fun. 

I really enjoyed having conversation class, although my schedule this week is going to be pretty rough compared to last semester (and everyone said the first semester at the AH is always the hardest!). I never used to have classes on Wednesdays, so I'd use them to prep for Thursdays, and I'd always be a step ahead. Notice how I haven't yet planned a thing for VEMZ tomorrow. Or done my Russian homework. Perhaps I should stop blogging and, you know, go do these things...

Warmth!!

On my way to work today (in the falling snow) was pleasantly warm. You know you've been in Russia too long when you start to consider -16C "warm" - unfortunately, if you check out the ten day forecast, you'll note that soon we'll be back in the frostbite inducing -28F range again. Damn.

My first advanced conversation class is this evening. I haven't yet decided what I'm going to do, having never taught either an advanced class or a conversation class... I'm thinking about using an idea about using images from myspace.com to discuss personality traits, possibly leading into the pros and cons of online dating. I haven't decided yet. I suppose I should stop blogging and get on that; class starts in five hours!

M, the Coy Belly-Dancer

Shake Your Bosom!

Me, B, Y, L

Yesterday afternoon B, Y, G, M, and I trekked out to Dobroye (suburb of Vladimir) to visit L. It takes about 30 minutes to make it out there by bus, which would have been substantially more comfortable had the bus been heated. But what can one do? Anyway, it was an absurdly fun and silly afternoon and evening. At some point, we all began practicing belly-dancing. Now, any of you who might remember my one abortive attempt at post-early-childhood dancing (think back to that embarrassing tutu incident during my senior year of high school) will know that dancing is not exactly my strong suit, but we were being giggly and silly, and we weren't exactly dancing, per say. (I should insert here that L takes belly dancing lessons, and that B - who is a kick-ass swing dancer - has taken a couple of belly-dancing lessons herself.) L and B were attempting to teach me and Y how to do a shoulder shimmy, the goal of which, as far as I can tell, is to make one's boobs shake back and forth. I think this is probably a lost cause with me, no matter how much my shoulders shimmy, and when you add in my lack of coordination, it simply becomes hysterical. We had a lot of fun. And G and M were pretty amused. The whole trying-to-shoulder-shimmy is kind of addictive (I found myself trying to do it in front of the mirror this morning - I'm glad Nina M. didn't catch me!), not to mention it works your stomach muscles tremendously. We are all seriously contemplating taking Saturday morning belly-dancing lessons.

In addition to making total asses of our selves (or, should I say, making total boobs of ourselves?) we dined on some lovely plov and blini (like crepes) stuffed with a yummy meat-and-potatoes mix, and watched Spirited Away, a beautiful if somewhat confusing piece of Japanimation that I would love to watch again...

When we left L's it was after 10pm, and cold, windy and snowing. B and I ended up on a different bus than the rest of the gang, and (like the bus we rode on our way out to Dobroye) it was unheated. These unheated busses are the perfect breeding ground for a thick coating of ice on the inside of the windows. This means that if you're way the hell out in Dobroye, where you've only been a small handful of times, you spend the bulk of your busride home wondering where the hell you are. Luckily, Brooke and I made it to my busstop with no problems other than the fact that my feet were frozen blocks of ice by the time I got off the bus. I waited with B for her marshrutka (mini-bus-taxi) to arrive, then all but ran into my apartment, and spent about ten minutes with my ice-block feet on the heater waiting to regain sensation.

The heat in average Russian apartments is supplied by the state. In normal winter temps (0 to -10C) this is great: the apartment is always warm and toasty and you don't have to worry about turning down the heat to save money because it's free. Of course, the state supplied heat is supplied at the same rate from the point at which they turn it on to the point at which they turn it off. When they first put it on, it was still fairly warm, and we all had our windows open and were sleeping naked atop the covers. And now that it's so utterly frigid out we have no means of cranking it up to a decent temp. I'd say it's around 55F inside my apartment. L's lucky, living out in Dobroye: she's near to the hot-water plants (these things that look like nuclear reactors, but which are really giant boilers designed to heat the water that will then be pumped into State operated radiators across the city). According to Nina M, residents of Dobroye are the warmest right now, because the water is the hottest when it hits their apartments. But, I said I was going to stop bitching. After all, the AH (being an American home after all) has its own heaters, and it's nice and toasty in here.

Killer Icicles

These scary icicles live on the building across the street from the AH.

Still cold....

I think these posts are going to get pretty repetitive as long as this weather stays so frigid. Weather.com seems to think things are getting warmer here, but as the thermometer outside my kitchen window still says -30C, and as Nina M is still turning on the oven and then opening the oven door to augment the state-supplied heat (which has been over-worked by this weather, leaving the inside of the apartments hovering around 56F). Anyway, here are some news articles on this lovely weather we've been having:

Deep Freeze in Russia Kills 30

Cold Weather Claims More Lives Across Russia

Extreme Cold Causes More Deaths in Russia

Russians Face Freezing Chaos

Russia Weathering Deadly Cold Spell

Hot Water Pipes Burst at Minus 31

Getting ready to head out...

Getting ready to head out into the cold. Wish me luck. Apparently it's -21F out there. (It's warming up!!) I'm off to my first class of the semester at VEMZ. I got the low-down on the equivocating nonsense regarding my class there. Because they cancelled at the last minute after agreeing to pay for a full semester, the AH tried to convince them to pay for 30% of what they had originally agreed to pay us. Finally VEMZ management agreed... but only if we taught 30% of the classes! So I'm off to VEMZ, but only for a total of 10 classes. I'd like to say I'm hoping for a trolleybus with heat, but I've already ridden the #7 once to day, and it was pretty frigid.

In other news, the morning class I was supposed to teach has been cancelled. That group has decided that they don't have time to meet. This pleases me immensely, as I am not a morning person by any stretch of the imagination. However, this means that I'm back to teaching an advanced conversation group on Wednesdays... Any suggestions as to what I should talk about with my Russians?

Brrr!

Tights. Wool socks. Sweat pants. Slacks. Long-sleeved long underwear. Turtleneck. Long-sleeved blouse. Sweater. Leather boots lined with fur. Leather gloves lined with fleece. Knee-length coat stuffed with down. Wool hat. Wool scarf. Still cold out there.

At least it's sunny....

Well, it was good while it lasted....

So, my too-good-to-be-true schedule of three classes on Tuesday/Friday and nothing the rest of the week other than my Russian lessons on Monday/Thursday has gone the way of the dodo. My current schedule:

Monday/Thursday:

8:30am - Advanced business English at the AH12:30pm - my Russian lessons

5:00pm - VEMZ (yep, they're back, after all that equivocating!)

Tuesday/Friday:4:00 to 9:00 - three ZII (second level) classes at the AH

Glen gets the Wednesday conversation group I was going to have... although now my office hours are back on Wednesday. I'll be too busy to bemoan my ongoing lack of laptop. Oh wait, I can never be too busy to not miss my baby...

holy pancake, it's flippin' cold!

I slept in late today, hoping that it might be warmish by the time I went outside. (When you spend the winter in Russia, your idea of warmish tends to change drastically. Last week there was actually one day when it rose to +1C. Talk about temperate!) Unfortunately, while it had "warmed up" a little between the time Nina M. awoke (-32C) and the time I awoke (-30C) neither of those options can be remotely described as warmish. When I finally ventured outside, I did so wearing so many layers that I felt (and probably looked) like a roly-poly. The problem, of course, was my face. While my hat was pulled down to cover my eyebrows and my scarf pulled up to cover my chin and mouth, that still left my nose, cheekbones and eyes out there for Ded Moroz* to work his frigid magic upon. (The glasses are actually a bit of an obstacle to warmth. Last night, when it was only -18C (haha, only!), I tried pulling by scarf up over my nose and cheekbones too. This immediately caused my glasses to fog up, and the fog then froze in place... And for those of us who can't see worth a damn without the otchki, this is a problem either way you squint at it.) By the time I reached the halfway point between the bus stop and the AH, my nose had passed through the so-sold-it's-painful phase to the the numb phase, and my cheekbones felt like they were on fire. And then there's the annoying fact that the cold air makes my nose run... but as soon as the, er, runnage makes it anywhere near the surface it freezes. Miniature icicles in my nose. Talk about a great way to start off the day.

Please keep in mind that I grew up in Florida, folks! And even the last winter I spent in Russia, it only dropped to -27C once, so this is a new record-cold for me. (According to Nina M, it's also pretty record cold for Vladimir, as it hasn't been this cold here since 1941!)

*Ded Moroz/Дед Мороз translates to Grandfather Frost and is the Russian equivalent of Santa Claus. In this sense I'm using the term as an equivalent to Jack Frost. I have no idea if that's something Russians do, but after my walk to school, it feels wholly approprate.

Amusing connections from the blogosphere

(I've been meaning to post this email for a while, but I didn't. I have no excuse. I suck.)

Dear (fellow blogger) Annie,

I was looking at your blog the other day and think that we may have arrived in Moscow on the same flight. I arrived Saturday, Jan. 7 on the Atlanta flight on Delta into Sheremetyevo. I recall seeing someone who looked like you in the passport control line. Was that you?! I didn't have the guts to go up and say "hi." What would I have said? "Are you blogger Annie Nimity? Hi, I'm Raffi, the maaskva: nashimi glazami blogger"? Just as your brief entry for Jan. 7 suggests, you did not look your chirpiest at that moment.

Should you ever been in Moscow, it would be great to meet for coffee. I have really gotten into this blogging and am toying around with organizing a blogging conference in Moscow this September. I have an excellent format for such an event in mind.

Warmly,
Raffi
(maaskva: nashimi glazami)

Shesh-Besh

Shesh-Besh
Originally uploaded by janekeeler.

Last night, L took us to the newest restaurant to open in Vladimir. It's part of a chain of Azerbaijani restaurants based out of Moscow called Shesh-Besh. In my opinion, this place is the best restaurant in the city of Vladimir. It is located right next door to the Hotel Vladimir, and you can smell the delicious aroma emanating from the place from at least half a block away. I had some delicious soup (they were out of harcho, spicy soup I wished to try, but the soup I got, while not hot-spicy contained a very rich blend of tasty spices... yum, yum) and the kicker... I was able to eat genuine hachapuri!! (Some of you might remember that this is my absolute favorite food - it's a delicious, mouth watering, cheesey-bread that I am forever at a loss to describe to the fullest extent of its scrumptiousness... oh, foodgazm, foodgazm.) We also had some of the most delicious wine I have ever tasted (it was a sweet, red Azerbaijani wine). Again, I have no words to describe how incredible this wine was. I could seriously spend the rest of my life inside of Shesh-Besh, living off hachipuri and red wine. My mouth is watering as I type. Shesh-Besh (named after the Middle Eastern equivalent to backgammon) has a bit of a gimmick, whereby if you order a big jug of this wine, they give you some dice and three chances to roll a five and a six together. If you succeed, the jug-o-wine is free. Otherwise, you've got to pay 300 rubles (around $10) for the jug. Well, we were unable to roll a five-six, but considering the quality of the wine, $10 split amongst 6 people was absolutely worth it. For dessert we had some traditional Azerbaijani pastries (well, pastries is probably the wrong word, but that's the closest thing I can think of to what we ate) that were exceptionally sweet, and some unusual herbal tea. I left feeling extremely content. I'm definitely going to become a regular at this joint.

Computers, classes, and such

For anyone who might be interested in the status of my baby Compaq: the computer-fixing-fellow says that my AC/DC adapter has burnt out. He also says that this is probably a result of overuse of the power transformer (you know, converting 220v to 110v) but what else am I supposed to do? The power has to be converted! Am I going to have to replace the damn thing every six months? Anybody have any suggestions? Supposedly the computer fellow is in Moscow, even as I type, looking for a replacement part for me. I fervently hope that he is successful, as I am going through mad laptop withdrawal. I also hope that nothing else is wrong with the computer... I guess we shall see.

But moving on... Yesterday was my first day of class. Thursday was the first day for everyone but me (owing to the last minute loss of my VEMZ class). I will definitely be teaching an advanced conversation group every Wednesday, but there's been no word as to whether or not I'll be picking up another 90 minutes worth of class time some where to keep me in the full-time-salary-position. Of course, it was quite nice on Thursday, having absolutely no responsibilities. Anyhow, yesterday I had three ZII (second level) classes in a row. The first class (most likely hooligans-to-be) was deathly quiet. They're all new to the AH, and didn't know one another. My previous hooligan class was like that too on the first day. In fact, they didn't erupt into hooliganism until class three or four... This group definitely has potential for utter madness. I also got to see my hooligans from last semester (they're G's now), and they were all happy to see me. I hope I can form as good of a bond with my new students as I had with my old. My second class of the day was my most advanced. They were all in their 20s-30s, and seemed studious but fun. My third class was similar in composition to my second, although not as strong. It's hard to form an opinion of their capabilities after only 90 minutes in their company.

It was good to be back teaching again. Not that I don't thoroughly enjoy sitting around being a bum (have I mentioned that my life-goal is to become a professional hermit?), but teaching is actually fun. It's good to have a job I enjoy (yes... this is a hint, hint to those of you - you know who you are - in jobs you hate...)

Bye, Bye VEMZ

I was deep in the middle of preparing my lesson plan for tomorrow's class at VEMZ (the Vladimir Electro-Motor Plant, where I taught a class last semester), when Galya approached me and said, Annie, I have some very bad news. If you know me, you know that obviously the first thing I thought was that my computer was unfixable, but no. (Still no word on its condition, by the way.) Apparently VEMZ called today (classes start tomorrow) to say that they "don't have enough money" for a class this semester. Sigh. I really enjoyed my VEMZ class, and I'm going to miss them.

This means that my schedule is going to become very interesting this semester. I was scheduled to teach at VEMZ on Monday and Thursday and to have three second-level classes here at the AH on Tuesday and Friday. I still have my Tuesday-Friday classes, but as the schedule and number of classes is set, there aren't any more classes open for me to fill this VEMZ vaccuum. And as my salary is kind of tied to the income the school receives from students... As if I'm not already poor enough! 

But never fear, there's still some work available for me. I will be teaching a conversation class on Wednesday evening (not sure of the level, but it's probably going to be a fairly advanced group, which I find exciting, having not yet taught advanced students). There's also a possibility that I will have a small morning class (yes, I did groan audibly at this) of businessmen from another factory, who are studying at an advanced level and need to prepare for an international trade show where the working language is English. But that's kind of up in the air. So we shall see.

Today we had the first part of a three day teaching seminar for local area English teachers. I find if kind of bizarre that part of my job requirement, as someone who has only had a few months of teaching experience is to conduct seminars where I instruct professional English language teachers on how to teach English. The last seminar in late October was pretty crappy (only about five teachers showed, and I was in a state of near-hysteria at the time and quite frankly remember very little of the whole thing), but this one (day one, at least) went pretty well. Today I gave a presentation on the use of realia (real-world objects) in the classroom in conjunction with written text. My realia consisted of the calendar designed by me and my mom, and the newspaper article about my mom, the calendar, and the museum it benefits. I also included a short "dumbed-down" version of the newspaper article, which could be geared towards low-level students. Afterwards, we discussed my hometown and the local wildlife refuge, and alligators (they were all very interested in alligators!). While it ended up being more of a discussion group instead of an Annie-as-teacher sort of thing, it went very well, and they all seemed really interested. I'm not as excited about tomorrow, when I get to introduce medical vocabulary and have the "students" (the teachers) perform a role play.

Here, but still not fully awake

Well, even though I've been back in Russia for three whole days now, I have very little of note to say. Why? Well, I've pretty much been asleep for the past three days. I caught some sort of stomach bug on the flight over, and Nina M has been pretty insistent that I stay in bed. Which is fine, except that when one is in bed, one tends to sleep. And when one sleeps all day, one remains on Eastern Standard Time. I awoke this morning at 3am, and stared at my ceiling until Nina M awoke at 9. I could have used the awake at night time to do something useful with my computer... but my Compaq is dead! i have no idea how this could have happened (it was obviously un-touched while I was gone) - I took it out of the desk and pressed the power key - and NOTHING happened. I have tried numerous times over the past three days, hoping that this time it will work... but no. So, I have to see about finding someone to fix it. I'm glad I had the foresight to backup all of my Russia photos onto CD. If only it had occurred to me to back up 60+ pages of the WD40 story. Sigh. I am exhausted. My body thinks it is 2:30am. I need coffee.

Here.

Here. Back from xmas break in the US. Exhausted. Jetlagged. Must. Sleep.

why I love lunch AND Russia

While I still hold to my aforementioned opinions on why lunch is inconvenient, I won't deny that I love having an utterly delicious three course lunch cooked for me. Today (Tuesday) was "Russian Lunch" at the AH (the second such affair this year) wherein the Russian staff spent two full days creating a scrumptious feast of soup, salad, beef and onions, and a lemon-cake desert. Wow. So yummy. So full. And again, so full of champagne. The AH gifted each of the American teachers with a beautiful shkatulka (a hand-painted lacquer box) bearing the image of one of the cathedrals at Sergiev Posad. It is incredibly beautiful. After dining, we sang American Christmas carols and traditional Russian songs, alternating from one language to the other, backed by Britt on the guitar.

 

Following lunch were my last three classes of the semester. My first class (the slower 3rd level group full of disinterested teens) presented me with a ton of gifts (and apologies for their hooliganish behavior throughout the semester!). They presented me with another shkatulka (this one painted with a traditional Russian fairy-tale scene), a box of candy, and a can of red caviar (which I was instructed to eat with my mother on Christmas day - so prepare yourself, mom!). After class, two of the students gave me individual gifts: a really cool hand-carved traditional Russian wooden toy, a home-made Christmas card, an incense burner, and something that can only be described as a Solstice Necklace (some of you will know exactly what I mean).

Of my second class (the 2nd level), which had dropped to eight students by the end of the semester, had only half of its membership show up, but the four who came arrived bearing tons of food. Cake, candy, soda, cookies... We certainly weren't able to make a dent in the goodies among the five of us.

My last class (the more advanced 3rd level group) brought me a Japanese tea-cup-and-saucer set (not the least bit Russian, but absolutely beautiful!) as well as two pizzas and a chocolate cake!

I realize that I sound like an obnoxious kid on Christmas day listing all his presents, but I kind of feel like a kid on Christmas, and this was all totally unexpected, which makes it doubly nice. I'm sad that it looks like I won't have any of the same students next semester (other than my VEMZ group), because my students are awesome. (Even if some of them need to study more, hint, hint!)

And (of course) when I came home, there was a full meal prepared for me by Nina M. I swear, I've been eating all day and I feel like I'm about to burst. I won't have to eat for a week!

why I hate lunch and love Russia

[I wrote this last night after a good bit of champagne. I looked it over this morning and thought about editing it, but then I figured.... no.]

This morning (Monday), we arrived at the AH early (okay, by that I mean 10am, so I shouldn't complain) for the purpose of watching an apparently much beloved Russian film called Irony of Fate (a romantic comedy set in Russia on New Year's Eve). We didn't finish it; it's three hours long, and we left the third hour for Tuesday. So far I'm not sure how I feel about the flick, as a lot of the humor is drunken-humor, and there seem to be some characters who are definitely getting the short end of the love stick here. (Oh yes, the ironies of fate, how well I know them.) But we shall see how it ends. At this point I totally recommend that everyone watch at least the first five minutes of this film. It's an animated introduction (without words) that should be utterly hilarious in any language. 


After two hours of Irony of Fate, I maneuvered over to the nearest computer and spent most of the afternoon working on my grades. Yawn. I'm pleased to report that three of my five classes did remarkably well. Of course my "hooligans" (my disinterested teens) obviously did not study. I gave them a *very* detailed study guide, which - if they had studied it - would have netted them all very high grades. As it is, half the class has to re-take the thing. You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him study English. After learning that M's third level hooliganis did just as poorly as mine, I felt a little better, although I am still very disappointed in my class. Of course, as 80% of my students passed with flying colors, I shouldn't feel too discouraged... should I?

Anyhow, grades take up a long time, and I simply didn't have time to eat lunch. (Lunch is an inconvenient meal, and I've hated it ever since elementary school and those utterly unpalatable institutional "lunches" which nauseated me every day as soon as I entered the cafeteria, and which I never, ever ate. There's a reason I never grew. I got into the habit of doing without, and now, even when I can and frequently eat whatever I feel like, I'm often too busy to bother with it. Damn my body for wanting to eat when it's inconvenient.) So, I didn't eat lunch, and as a result, I arrived at VEMZ for their last class of the semester having eaten nothing but four cookies since breakfast.

My VEMZ students (whom I love, even if their constant and flagrant cheating annoys me to no end) definitely came prepared for the last day of class: Four bottles of champagne, three boxes of chocolate, a dozen oranges, plus a "New Year's gift" (Russian New Year's is analogous to the American secular side of Christmas) of a piggy bank that's a dog (doggy bank?) as 2006 is the Year of the Dog, another box of chocolate, and another bottle of champagne (the last two I was instructed to take to the US for consumption on New Year's Eve. Let me tell you: a Certain Someone is totally missing out on New Year's. Meanwhile, my American friends and family totally win. M, this group specifically told me I had to drink the champagne with you! I had used you as an example in one of my lessons, and they remembered!) Anyway, let's just say that splitting four bottles of champagne amongst eight people (when one of them is a quick drunk running on an empty stomach) makes for an interesting evening. We talked about all sorts of things (in high quality Ruslish), from holiday customs to politics. I'm pleased to note that if my VEMZ class were Americans they would've voted for Kerry. They also think that Bill Clinton is a "genuine man" (I didn't ask what they meant, but from the tone of voice and the Russian willingness to talk about Monica Lewinsky, I'm assuming that it had something to do with his sex drive), and they agree that it's absurd that Putin can ride a horse and Bush can't. I also may have sung an solo version of Hotel California (upon request, really), and I taught them to sing Jingle Bells, although halfway through I realized that one woman was singing, "Uncle Ben's, Uncle Ben's" instead of Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells. (Apparently the great rice-maker markets some sort of delicious sauce over here, and at some point had a commercial to the tune of Jingle Bells, so it turns out the situation wasn't as utterly insane as I first thought.)

So now I have to figure out how to get an absurd amount of chocolate and an unopened/unbroken bottle of Russian champagne home for the holidays. Woohoohoo.

Xmas Party Pictures

Last night was the AH Xmas party. I'm afraid I just can't bring myself to get as excited about xmas parties as I can about Halloween parties. Blah. I did take a few pics though.

Dance party.

Left: Carol Singing. Note G standing sheepishly under the mistletoe.
Right: J does the limbo

Left: Gosha is the reason Crazy Snow Dude is losing his hair

Right: B makes kick-ass mulled wine.

to my WD40 peeps

We have our students keep journals in English in little notebooks. Since many students drop out every semester, we end up with quite a collection of abandoned journals for the teachers to pick through if we ever find ourselves in need of a notebook. I found this one the other day. Some of you might appreciate why it made me so excited. I wish I knew which former student had selected it!

Yesterday we decorated the xmas tree

Garland-covered girls L, me, Y, J and B


J the Christmas Hippie played carols while we decorated.

Wipe out!

So I totally bought it on the sidewalk alongside Bolshaya Moscovskaya on my way to VEMZ today. I was walking to the bus stop, where I catch the #7 trolleybus (the only public transportation that goes all the way to VEMZ), and it was snowing: a strong, steady, wet snow, but without the fearsome winds of the other day, so at least it was tolerable. And it was a little warmer, being about -5C or so. Anyhow, I was about half a block from the bus stop when the #7 passed me. Now, I know from experience that the #7 comes along roughly every 15 minutes (unlike, say, the #8, of which there are at least six for every #7 that rolls past). I did not wish to stand in the wet snow for fifteen minutes waiting for the next #7 to roll up, so I did what I have done many times in the past when in this situation: I began to sprint for the bus stop. And about three steps later I was flat on my back with the wind totally knocked out of me. Complete wipe out. Apparently, running in the snow is trickier than it looks. (Hey, don't laugh! I grew up in Florida.) As I lay on my back feeling thoroughly unpleasantly battered (remind me to never get kicked in the ribs, mm'kay?) I received an utterly incredulous look from the middle aged chap who, after witnessing the miraculous flying devushka, helped me to my feet. I also a stern lecture from a passing babushka on the dangers of running in the snow. "Devushka! What were you thinking? You should not run in weather like this! Next time you could get hurt! You need to walk slowly and carefully..." Yeah, well, she was catching the #8, so she only had to stick around the chilly, wet bus stop for thirty seconds after slowly and carefully shuffling herself there. Meanwhile, I waited a full seventeen minutes for the next #7. Yes, I timed it. At least I had my lovely, new, warm, orange, down-filled coat. Pleasure in the simple things, Annie, pleasure in the simple things.

At VEMZ (I wasn't late, although usually I arrive 20 minutes before the start of class, and today I was only about three minutes early). Nearly all of my students were there (a rarity of late, as they've been off on sporadic business trips quite frequently in recent weeks), and they were hoping that my "tardiness" meant that I wasn't coming due to the weather. See, today was their Oral Exam and they would have loved an excuse to avoid taking it. I don't know why they were all so worried - they did exceptionally well. The lowest grade was an 87, and the rest were in the 90s, with 97 being the highest. Rock! I am so proud of them. Let's hope their written exam (Thursday) goes as well. And of course there are the three oral exams I'm giving on Tuesday... we shall see. It's unfortunate that so many of my students missed last Friday because of the crazy weather, as it was the last review day before exams...

Snow, photos, xmas, and (yes) more book reviews.

Yes, yes, ladies and gents, the Russian winter has indeed arrived. It blew in on Friday morning, and continued to blow all day, depositing at least half a foot of snow, if not more, and blowing me all over the place as I stumbled about, grateful for my wonderful new winter coat. I trudged over to Grossmart around 1:00 to snag some lunch (they sell a Korean-made ramen that I've grown rather fond of), and felt totally hobbit-like as I trudged through the snow. You know that scene in The Fellowship of the Ring (either book or movie, as it was in both) where the Fellowship tries to climb Mt. Caradhras, and the hobbits especially are nearly buried in the snow? Okay, obviously the snow hasn't reached that sort of mythic depth as yet, but I felt like a hobbit. And being buffeted about by the wind didn't help matters. The walk to Grossmart and back (normally no more than 15 minutes round trip) took over half an hour.

Apparently Friday was a particularly bad winter day, even by Vladimir standards. I rather expected the locals to shrug it off as just another day in Russia, but when classes started, I realized something different was going on. My 4:00 class of mostly disinterested teens is usually packed (as their parents make sure that they come to every class). However, at the start of class, only half of the group was present. The remainder did manage to straggle in throughout the course of the class, flushed from the cold, with tales of having walked for blocks because the busses weren't running. Yes, Vladimir's public transportation ground to a halt in the midst of Friday's snowstorm. My second class had only three students; my last class had five. Y's last class had only one student.

Now, it is entirely possible to walk from my apartment to the American Home (I've done this many times) but the idea of walking home (a 30 minute walk in normal weather) in Friday's not-so-lovely weather was not all that appealing. B and I set out together in the hope of finding some sort of transportation home. We did find one trolleybus... disabled and all but buried in the snow. Sigh. But, as there were people waiting at the bus stop, we decided to wait too. Soon, along came a marshrutka (a minivan that follows the same route as the busses)... and everyone waiting at the bus stop crammed into it. The thing was seriously at least double its planned capacity, and no one (other than B and myself) seemed to think that this was in the least bit odd. But hey, at least I didn't have to walk home.

The wind had blown a layer of snow under the cracks in the windows in the second floor hallway of my apartment building.

In the morning the day was beautiful: the sun was shining, the sky was bright blue, and the world was covered in a beautiful fresh blanket of white. And it was -12C outside. I decided that -12C or not, I was going to walk to work. I took a couple of pictures of the snow banks and of the snow collecting on tree branches. The day was so beautiful and perfect. I wish I could have spent more time outside. But, as usual, I had woken up late, and since we had English Club in the afternoon, I was destined to spend the bulk of my day inside the AH as usual.

English Club is essentially AH-speak for get-students-to-come-help-plan-our-parties, and the goal of this meeting of the English Club was to plan next week's Christmas Party. (Side-note: I have weird feelings about Christmas. On one hand, it's kind of hypocritical to keep celebrating it as I'm not a Christian. But on the other hand, there are so many heathen-pagan influences in the whole modern day celebration that it is entirely possible to have a secular Christmas. Er, xmas. Besides, I am a big fan of the idea of a holiday where people get together with and give gifts to the people they care about.) Anyhow, the AH is having a Christmas party next Saturday (even with an agnostic-pseudopagan and a genetically Jewish atheist on its staff), which will probably turn out to be a lot of fun. The party will (aside from a few mentions of Jesus/Christ/etc in some carols) be a secular xmas party, involving dancing, feasting, gift exchanging, singing, and most likely an appearance by Ded Moroz (the Russian equivalent to Santa). Preparations during English Club took the form of Games Committee, Decorations Committee and Music Committee. B and I were in charge of decorations, meaning that our group made wreaths and candles and paper chains and snowflakes (all from construction paper) which will be used to decorate the place come next weekend. The caroling group, led by Y and J learned a rather comprehensive collective of carols, backed up by J on guitar. After they learned their songs, they came and serenaded the decorations committee, which turned into a rather boisterous and fun group-sing event.

After English Club, (and after attaching myself to the computer for a few hours), a group of us (accompanied by L and several Russian chaps with exceptional English of the sort which makes me embarrassed to speak in Russian in their presence) wandered over to Biblos (a Greek-ish / Middle Eastern-ish restaurant in the center) where some of the group smoked a hookah as we chatted about pointless things. Upon departing Biblos, we were accosted by two drunken Russians who hit on Y... by saying hello to her in very formal Korean (anyeonghasimnika)! This kind of threw everyone off for a couple of seconds. ("Is he so drunk that he is slurring his Russian to the point that it makes no sense whatsoever?" followed by Y and me realizing, no, that's Korean...)

After Biblos, the bulk of the group began discussing a venture to some hillside for sledding, but I decided to go home. The same weird thing that has recently occurred in my brain causing me to possess the new life goal of becoming a professional hermit has caused me to become substantially less interested in things like night-time-sledding-in-sub-zero-temperatures. I think what I mean to say is that I'm getting old, and that I am valuing comfort over excitement. And, as it had started snowing again, I rather felt that I should maneuver home lest the public transportation grind to a halt a la the previous day.

I didn't leave my house on Sunday. The weather was back to its common Russian winter state of grey, although it was several degrees warmer (albeit still below freezing) than Saturday, but I simply had no need or desire to go out. I stayed in bed until 2:00, and finished reading 1984. (This course of action was encouraged a good bit by the rather splitting sinus headache I awoke with, and which never really went away.) I am embarrassed to admit that I had never read 1984 before. I love, love, love dystopian novels (with We, Brave New World, Animal Farm and Ape and Essence being several of my all-time favorites), and I have wanted to read 1984 for many years. Really, I should have simply gone to a library somewhere and checked it out, but instead I have been waiting to find it in a thrift store or at a yardsale or something. Instead I found it a few weeks ago in L's room, and asked to borrow it. I only started it a couple days ago, as I'd been reading Middlesex (I'll get to that in a minute; don't worry. Damn, I should really have named this site From Russia With Unrelated Book Review), and I found 1984 riveting and if any of you, for whatever reason haven't yet read it, go and do it. I'm not going to bother writing any sort of review or analysis of 1984; there are plenty enough of them out there if you're interested. I will comment that reading 1984 shortly after finishing Anne Applebaum's Gulag (which I reviewed a while back) is unbelievably eerie. 1984 was first published in 1949... I wonder how much access Orwell had to the goings on in the machinery of the GULAG system in the Soviet Union - after all, it was shrouded by secrecy - for so much of what happens in Oceania very closely paralleled the Soviet system in incredibly creepy detail. And then there's the telescreen, a device in every room of every apartment, which can never be shut off, which continuously spews forth political dogma while monitoring the residents of said apartment. I believe I've mentioned before the Soviet-era radios that still remain in most Soviet-era apartments... the radios which can never be shut off. (I believe that Russian Journal even mentions the radios prompting Soviet denizens into coordinated morning exercises, just as the telescreen does at the beginning of 1984.) My apartment still has one of these annoyingly never silent radios, now owned by Radio Rossii, and sponsored heavily by some sort of Moscow-based pharmaceutical company, forever urging me to call 974-64-04 to learn how to get a good night of sleep or how to unclog my capillaries, or some other such bit of medical nonsense. I hear that phone number so many times every day that it has been forever ingrained in my mind. I can only imagine what it would be like to have that thing spewing political propaganda. I would also like to comment that the little description of 1984 on its back cover reads: ...a startlingly original and haunting novel that is completely convincing... Completely convincing, yes. Startlingly original, not exactly. I mean, even if Orwell did not intentionally base Oceania on the USSR, wasn't Zamyatin's We written first? Mmmm?

Okay, while I can easily relate 1984 to my current location of Russia, Middlesex, the tale of a Greek hermaphrodite growing up in the United States has no relation to Russia other than that I read it while living here. B lent me this book, and it was definitely interesting and weird. I thoroughly enjoyed it, although the end kind of left me wanting something more out of it. This book is not simply the story of a hermaphrodite, but it provides the historic and genetic histories of various individuals, culminating in the birth of a hermaphrodite. I found the segments on the war between Greece and Turkey and the riots in Detroit to be almost as fascinating as the tale of the hermaphrodite h/im/erself. This probably isn't the book for everyone, although if you have any of the same tastes I have, you will probably enjoy it.

Russian Squirrels Attack and Kill Dog!!!

And I'm not even making it up - this comes to you straight from the BBC.

A "big" stray dog was nosing about the trees and barking at squirrels hiding in branches overhead when a number of them suddenly descended and attacked, reports say. "They literally gutted the dog," local journalist Anastasia Trubitsina told Komsomolskaya Pravda newspaper. [full text]

Sunday's Miscellany

Sunday, I slept in late, got up, and went to Dobryak. Dobryak is the wonderful/evil place where I keep spending my miniscule salary on things like lime green spring/fall coats and winter skirts with matching summer shirts. I should probably stay away from Dobryak. But, I've been wanting a winter coat at is warmer and that fits better than the one Nina M. gave me, so this afternoon I went to Dobryak... and left with the coolest winter coat ever. It's orange and it's stuffed with down. Mmmmmm.

The Cat In My Hat and other stories

Part I: The Cat In My Hat

Friday night, I left the AH and walked out into the snow. About fifty yards down the sidewalk from the AH, a cat was sitting in the snow on the sidewalk. I've seen this kitty before; it looks a lot like Gosha, only smaller and with a fluffy tail. I don't know if it's one of the strays that has claimed the AH block of Letneperevozinskaya as it's territory, or if it actually has a home. Either way, the thing was out in the snow and fur or not, that's got to be cold. So I knelt down to pet it, and the thing immediately hopped into my squatty-lap and began purring. I petted it for a while and then decided to dislodge it and be on my way. But instead of hopping back into the snow, the kitty climbed up onto my shoulder, and when I tried to dislodge her, instead of falling onto the ground, she fell squarely into my hood. Now, this cat was no dummy. I mean, when given a choice between the snowy ground or a fuzzy, dry, fleece hood, which would you choose? I found that short of disrobing in the cold, or getting scratched all to hell, there was no way I could remove the purring bundle of fur from my hood. So, I turned around and went back to the AH, where Vanya (one of our security guards) promptly admonished me for bringing a strange cat to the house, and he refused to let me in. B took some pictures of the cat in my hat (which I will post as soon as she gives them to me), and G stole some of Gosha's cat food, which we used to convince the furry-purry that she really didn't want to remain in my hood for the rest of the evening.

Part II: Snow

So far, this most recent snowfall has stuck around. Saturday morning I took a bus down to Cathedral Square for the purpose of getting some snowbound shots of the ancient and famous cathedrals that I already have an entire folder of sun-shiny shots of. I also walked about the parks surrounding the cathedrals and amused myself by walking through vast, previously undisturbed patches of snow. (I grew up in Florida, so I have a bit of a child-like fascination with snow, despite the fact that this is my second Russian winter.) I was planning on posting the pics I took online, but somehow I forgot to bring the Vladimir-in-the-snow images along. Check back tomorrow! I do, however, have an entirely unrelated shot of me and Gosha...

Part III: Swing Dancing

B gave her presentation Saturday afternoon on Swing Dancing, which is something she does in the US. It was an excellent presentation (on the history of the dance and how she got involved with it) and then she taught a lesson in how to dance to the students and teachers present. I, being rather a chicken, and knowing how horribly uncoordinated I am, opted for the role of paparazzi. Everyone had a great time, and everyone was laughing, giggling and grinning by the end. A definite success.

Part IV: Straw Kitten

In the early evening, K, M and I went to "Old Venice," one of the two pizza places in town (and while the pizzas don't taste quite like they do back home, they're still really damn tasty). While we were waiting for our pizzas to come out, a kitten (almost a full-grown cat really, but still at that stage when you can tell that it's fairly young) wandered out of the back and into the restaurant. This is one of those things that I love about Russia; you would never see a cat or kitten wandering around a restaurant or a store without the staff and/or clientele erupting into some sort of fit about sanitation or whatever. I mean, somehow I think the US Health Department frowns on cats in the kitchen. Obviously I've let my inner crazy-cat-lady out of the bag with this post, so it shouldn't surprise you to learn that I had no problem whatsoever with the kitten that first wandered the room and then sat itself in the empty chair next to K. It was fascinated with the things on our table, and looked adorable as it watched us fiddle with our straws and bottle-caps. Of course, I decided to take a picture... and through sheer photographic luck I managed to snap its picture right as it lunged for K's straw. It managed to wrestle the straw from her cup, and played with it for nearly the entire time we were in the restaurant. It looked so happy, playing with that straw. I would love to be a cat. It would be wonderful be able to feel such sheer pleasure from something so simple.