The End

When things got green

The time has come for my fifteenth and final blog post of the year.  I am going home tomorrow! I’m really going to miss writing my blog and I don’t know the next time I will find myself somewhere as bonkers as here to start it up again.  Anyway, my cases are semi-packed and I am full of sadness about leaving, whilst being very excited to get home, see my lovely family, have a lie down on the sofa, cook some food in the oven, boycott the microwave, pay in sterling, hug my cat and watch the BBC.

When things got cold

I’ve had a great end to the year this week.  Despite some sad goodbyes, finishing my year abroad in Russia brings a huge sense of achievement and relief.  We’ve all had highs and lows, and I for one have felt that when things got bad, Perekop was the last place I wanted to be.  But the good times have been SO good.  I’ve done things that I never imagined I would do, met some amazing people and made some fantastic friends.  My Russian has improved a lot and this time last year, I would never have imagined that such an incredible experience was lying ahead of me.  As cliché as it sounds when people claim that their year abroad is the best year of their lives, it is true.  Everything about living here has become ‘home’.  It doesn’t seem unusual any more to have to point to things in shops behind glass cabinets, to see people walking around the street in slippers and dressing gowns and to see dead frogs on the way to school.

When things got itchy

When things got tough

We performed our play to the babushkas the other day, which was a version of ‘Snow White’.  It went down very well and we had a post-play tea party where we thanked our landladies for everything and exchanged presents.  Natasha told me that she is very said I’m leaving and that she feels like I’m her relative.  I really will miss her a lot because she has been a lovely person to live with, despite the kitchen catastrophes. 

So here I am on the other side.  I’ve seen the seasons change and have battled with sheet ice and blizzards as well as the ravenous summer mosquitoes.  I’ve learnt how to eat horrible food very fast and also learnt how to dispose of it very fast in desperate situations.  I’m accustomed to Russian sleeper trains, piling onto buses and marshrutkas and paying twelve roubles (24p) to get into town on the bus.  TFL prices are something that I won’t be thrilled to be reunited with!

Thank you to everyone who has been reading my posts :)

Here’s to a frighteningly English June...and to Russia, thank you for having me!  - Мы гордимся тобой!

Are there strawberries in England?

Okay, for a change a lot has happened recently and it’s taken a substantial amount of mental strength to sit down and write this post because it’s been a while.  Don’t fear though, I’ll do my very best to cut out all the waffle and include only the shiniest golden nuggets of year abroad anecdotes for people’s entertainment (mainly for my own).  You may pity me at some points too.

So where did we leave things last time? Ah yes, I was about to embark on my St. Petersburg voyage with my hostess Natasha.  Oh how far I have travelled since then...both literally and figuratively.  So with my rucksack and handbag packed and Natasha’s single plastic carrier bag packed (she wore the same clothes for the whole trip including for both sleeper train journeys) we set off for the station at 10:30pm to catch the overnight train to St.Petersburg (13 hours).   Natasha packed me a yoghurt which, little did I know, would become the theme of the trip.  Basically, I have a huge issue with warm yoghurt.  Picky as you may think, I am strongly against warm yoghurt and I have been since school lunchbox days.  It’s a complex that I may never grow out of, but the thought of Frubes in lunchboxes make me shiver.  I probably should have dealt with the travelling yoghurt and eaten it the first time it was offered to me on the train, but to my disappointment I had to eat it three days later, as it was clear that Natasha was determined to see that yoghurt eaten by me and me alone. 

So to cut a long journey short, we both had bottom bunks which I think the rest of the carriage was pleased about because it meant that I was sadly unable to demonstrate my bunk climbing agility again and everyone kept their faces intact.  There was a 40-something year old man sitting with us who was grinning like a maniac constantly and was sitting next to me eating a bag of dried fish and drinking beer.  There I was, listening to my Ipod, gazing out of the window and suddenly the man tapped me on the shoulder.  He asked to see what I was listening to and put my earphones to his ears.  He claimed that Bon Iver was exactly like what he was listening to and excitedly gave his headphones to me.  It wasn’t.  After numerous awkward moments we all decided to go to sleep.  Well, Natasha certainly did.  From such a little creature, I couldn’t believe the almighty sounds that erupted from her.  This was professional snoring and I was awake for a long, long time.  When I woke up in the morning, I was unimpressed to find grinning guy, still grinning in my face and Natasha looking bright eyed in front of me, offering me the yoghurt.  I was overjoyed to realise that my eye was swollen as well and I was beginning to come out in a dodgy rash. 

So when we arrived, we got the metro to Valera’s house (he’s Natasha’s partner who lives in St. Petersburg).  He has recently moved his elderly mother in with him, who turned out to be the undisputable highlight of my trip.  She had many unforgettable moments like when she exclaimed that she thought the banana on a fruit salad was egg, and when she started pouring water from the teapot on the table, next to her teacup.  She really was lovely though and it ended up that I had all my most meaningful conversations of the trip with her.  When I left she kissed me all over my face.  I met one of Valera’s cats which I thought was a kitten, but it turned out it was a really small cat with stunted growth (and scabs and a bent tail). Got reunited with Natasha’s son Misha who lived with us last term, which was great as well.  Then Valera came along.  He really is a strange character: a very stern man who is also quite friendly but it’s hard to know where you stand with him.  Really our week consisted of various exchanges between me and Valera, where he appeared to think that because I don’t speak his language properly, I must be very stupid. 

-Do you like raisins?

-No.

-why?

-Because I don’t.

-But do you know that raisins are actually dried grapes?

-erm, yes.

-Well, why don’t you like them then? They are the same thing.

-Do you know who Anne Frank is?

-Do you have beetroot in England?

And so on. In the day Natasha took me out sightseeing which was nice, but sadly again very awkward because she made me go on guided tours of things (guided tours are on a par with warm yoghurt for me I’m afraid) and decided that I wouldn’t be able to understand any of it so just translated into broken English over the top so I ended up understanding nothing.  Really, that is the essence of the entire trip, so I won’t go on anymore but it actually turned out to be the most difficult few days of my year abroad so far, purely because it involved so much Russian, so much tongue biting and so much alone time with Natasha.  We did see two ballets though: ‘Romeo and Juliet’ and ‘Jewels’.  Both were good, but hearing Prokofiev’s ‘Dance of the Knights’ just made me feel like I was in the Board Room with Sir Alan, because I’m that cultured.

So I had a couple of days at home, during which I found out that I won tickets for the Diamond Jubilee celebration in London from the ballot I entered, which was a terribly British reward for having survived the few days before feeling feeble and confused in Russian culture and I had Jack coming out to visit me on Friday 4^th May, which I was very happy about after that ordeal.  Things were looking up. 

The day before Jack arrived, Natasha took me to her friend’s house as they invited us to have ‘Shashlik’ which is authentic Russian Barbequed meat.  It was delicious, but we were made to sit outside for hours and it was freezing cold which meant that I caught a cold for when Jack was getting here, which I was annoyed about. In general though, we had a lovely evening and I got to speak lots of Russian.  Ridiculous questions were thrown about, the biscuit taker being “Are there strawberries in England?” Make of that what you will.

3 Penguins Hostel

So here is a brief rundown of what happened when Jack came to stay.  I sat at arrivals for about five hours as my train got into Moscow really early.  It was, of course, fantastic to see Jack come through the gate and to let Jack’s first experience of Russia begin.  In Moscow we stayed in the ‘3 Penguins Hostel’, which was really nice and very Russian.  Not sure who thought up the penguins theme, but it was quite cool as the hostel was adorned with various penguin related items, mainly Christmas stickers and magnets because I guess that’s where penguins get most of their work, and there was a cheeky penguin pillow on the sofa too.  We had a brilliant few days in Moscow, but due to the build up before Victory Day, Red Square was completely closed so we had to explore that at the other end of our trip.  We went to a cemetery where loads of famous bods are buried, notably Yeltsin, Kruschev, Chekhov, Shostakovich and many others.  We saw the impressive Bolshoi Theatre, Chekhov’s house and lots of interesting bits and pieces.  Cultural treats aside, food really did play a big part in this trip for me.  We indulged in some yummy meals and quality fast food.  We jumped on the bandwagon of love for ‘Kroshka Kartoshka’, the fast food chain which serves baked potatoes and we also became fans of ‘Carl’s Jr’, the burger chain because when you’ve lived in Yaroslavl for eight months, burgers are gold in a bun.

Jack outside the Bolshoi

We took the day train to St Petersburg which to my surprise was a million times nicer than smelly First Great Western and arrived into the cultural capital.  St Petersburg was lovely as ever, if a little jam packed with people because of Victory Day again.  We went to the Hermitage which is incredible, as well as a museum containing a room of pickled babies in jars.  We indulged in the fantastic array of shops that the city offers and generally had a lovely time wandering around and soaking up the atmosphere.

We got the overnight train back to Moscow which was fun, because we sitting with an almost elderly Russian woman with red hair who decided to speak to us in German and strip for Jack and a man who ate Pringles and drank beer whilst getting into deep conversation with the woman who personified my degree.  The train was painfully hot and stuffy and it was hard to sleep, but we had the pleasure of meeting a Russian boy called Vlad along the way.

So we got back to Moscow and saw the delights of Red Square as well has the Kremlin which was great.  Moscow is a beautiful city in the springtime, with tulips planted throughout the centre and gold domes sparkling everywhere you look.  The weather got warmer and warmer and by the final day of the trip I managed to get sunburnt.  You don’t have to go to Columbia on your year abroad to catch the rays.

So at the end of the week, Jack flew home to peaceful England and I journeyed back to sunny Yaroslavl, which, I hasten to add is blooming at the moment.  Lush grass on the ground and juicy green leaves rustling against my window gives me a right to claim that summer is here (clutching onto little pieces of hope now) and I now have license to eat ice-cream outside and pack my boots in my suitcase.

 

I was very sad to see Jack leave, but I’ve got the encouraging prospect that I’m coming home in exactly two weeks time.  The year abroad will be history.  The sense of achievement that lies ahead is huge, but I am really sad at the thought of Yaroslavl not being a part of my life anymore.  Life with Natasha, the daily walk to school, the cashiers in the shop and the thriving dog community have all become things that I know and love.  As lovely as it will be to settle back into home living, I will definitely have a huge space where all those things used to fit in.  This will probably be my last proper blog of my time in Russia, but I’ll do a proper ‘over and out’ one at the very end.  I’m sure you’re sitting on the edge of your seats.

Until then!

Spring In My Step

It is Spring! As I touch every piece of wood in sight, I can announce that most of the snow has gone.  It’s been a long time coming, but it seems that the seasons are changing...and that was definitely vitamin D I felt coming through my curtains this morning.  Ohhhh yes. The sweet smell of fresh warm air and the sunlight beaming off the yellow church outside my window has brought a new energy to April and I feel that the only way is up. (baby).

So I’ll begin by saying how different it is to walk around Perekop now.  Strangely enough, without the snow the place feels quite empty.  I popped out this afternoon for a walk and even though I could tell it was sunny, I still took my coat because I could see all the babushkas pretty much dressed up as bears from my window and also I don’t trust that sunlight means warmth here.  I took a dramatic step in my year abroad and put a pair of shoes on today though.  By the time I’d walked to the end of the street I was boiling and it was so muggy out.  I couldn’t believe it.  However, I don’t want too get to cocky yet by going out with just a jumper.  There were children playing outside and actually rollerblading on dry ground. Crazy times.

I have nothing exciting to write in this blog, because as per usual I’ve not done anything particularly out of the ordinary.  I’m just going to note down some moments which have made me laugh over the past week or so. 

As you may or may not know, I do have a pet hate here.  It’s one of our cats (sorry about the pun).  He’s called ‘Darcy’ and even as a cat lover, I hate him with a passion.  I’m pretty sure he’s brain damaged because he chases shadows all hours of the day, tries to throw himself out of windows and against doors, poos in the bath, takes packets out of the bin and eats soup. He's the most annoying animal ever. Lately, he’s been especially badly behaved, so Natasha has decided to punish him by shutting him in the bathroom.  The other day she was rummaging in her cupboard and pulled out a little pot with the words ‘Sound of Switzerland’ written on the side.  I realised that it’s one of those things that you tip upside down and it makes a cow noise.  So she chased the cat around with a mooing pot for about 10 minutes, which terrified him.  He’s no less annoying now though.  Darcy the cat pretty much hates everybody and will bite you if you try and stroke him.  He does, however, love our neighbour Ludmila and goes all angelic when she is around.  Ludmila is slightly insane sometimes though, and likes to prod Darcy and continue to prod him despite his protests.  Unfortunately, she’s asking to get hurt, and the other day he did indeed scratch her hand very slightly.  In response, Natasha dropped everything she was doing and ran into the kitchen, bringing back a bottle of iodine and she spread it liberally over Ludmila’s hand. 

Natasha has been on form the past week or so.  A few days ago, I came home from school and she said she’d made me some ‘Pelmeni’, my favourite meal.  She then asked, ‘would you like Champagne with that?” So I hesitantly agreed.  She then invited Ludmila up and poured us out a big glass each and announced that she had bought Champagne because she felt tired and her tooth hurt.  So we sat there having a drink and toasting to various things, such as ‘to girls’, ‘to students’, ‘to success’. We had a lovely conversation about peculiar things and it really just went on and on like that.

Irrelevant photograph of 'Mr Proper' bathroom cleaner.  Why not?

The following day, I found Natasha and Ludmila preparing to dye eachothers hair.  They’re both blonde birds, but this time Natasha has gone for ‘platinum blonde’ and Ludmila ‘Silver blonde’.  Natasha really does seem quite slapdash with it all, but was mixing the dye on a dinner plate and slapping it onto Ludmila’s head.  She then offered to do mine the same colour, which in hindsight I don’t think was actually a joke.  Then they swapped, and as Ludmila was painting dye onto the back of Natasha’s hair, Natasha took it upon herself to dye the front of her hair with a toothbrush.  All the while I sat there with my cup of tea spectating and loving the fact that this is all so normal.

Yesterday Charlotte and I were on the bus home from the town centre where we’d been working and cafe hopping.  We got some seats and then to our delight, the two greasiest men came and sat next to us.  We decided that they smelt like butter and chicken.  They looked like they’d actually got a big mac and wiped it around their mouths.  It was a bit of a stomach churning ride home.

Yes, this post has pretty much all been about Natasha and her antics, but I love her really.  My next one will probably be when I get back from St. Petersburg at the beginning of May, because I’m sure I will have lots of good stories to tell from that trip.  Until then, I’ll try and keep my tan under control.

Doctor, Doctor ... I'm in Russia.

What a week.  Unfortunately I’ve been a bit ill these past few days.  What I keep realising though, is that in dear Russia, one cannot simply be slightly under the weather.  You’re either made of steel or on death's door, with no middle ground.  Some of you may recall me chatting about several of Natasha’s trusted remedies for various ailments.  Just to refresh, here is the latest round-up of...

Natasha’s Medical Miracles (last reviewed April 2012)

Case #1 – The common cold: drink vodka mixed with pepper, followed by a mug of sugary tea.  Lie under the duvet until you sweat out your cold.

Case #2 – Diarrhoea: eat a bowl of blueberry jam.

Case #3- Nausea: Take grass tablets and eats as much as possible.

Case #4 – Toothache: drink champagne and eat chocolate.  Possible cause, having a cold foot.

Case #5 – Headache: drink very sugary tea and a shot of cognac.  Follow with ice-cream.

Case #6 – High blood pressure: Take antispasmodic drugs.  Fill a plastic bottle with hot water and put on your legs.

Case #7- Blocked nose: Fill the nose with garlic.

Case #8 – Sore throat: Drink hot milk, mixed with Dutch aniseed tablets and honey.

So naturally, over the past two days I’ve had Natasha fussing over me a lot.  I’d been feeling unwell for the whole week but taking into account the aforementioned list of previous healthcare advice I had received, I decided to hide it for as long as possible.  When I came home yesterday feeling really rough, I knew I’d blown my cover.  Natasha finds out I’m not feeling well and immediately phones up Valera, her boyfriend in St Petersburg.  He is a doctor, so is of course very qualified to give people health advice.  But with all due respect, he doesn’t know my medical history or...who I am in general.  So Natasha is nattering on the phone to him, not listening to anything I’m saying to her.  She comes off the phone with a decisive look on her concerned face and says: “Take this tablet. You have to.”  I answer: “What is it?” To be reassured with “It is called ‘No-Shpa’, it is known by the whole world.  It is Indian.”  After a lot of doubt from my side and having to bite my tongue in order not to get into an argument, I reluctantly swallowed the tablet under Natasha’s watchful eye.  She said, “It stops spasms”.  She then took my blood pressure three times and established that  it was high and that I was in danger.   She told me to go and lie down for an hour and then we’d reassess my blood pressure.  Sure enough, after an hour nothing had changed whatsoever.  Just to add, my symptoms were a headache and feeling sick.  How we got to this stage in Natasha’s medical assessment, I do not know.  I, in the meantime, decided to google the tablet I had just taken.  I might be wrong, but from what Wikipedia tells me, this is indeed an antispasmodic drug..but one that is used to assist in cervical dilation in labour and is sometimes used with sufferers of Irritable Bowels Syndrome. 

I have been having some very frustrating conversations with Natasha about medication.  Basically,  I’m taking a nightly migrane preventative and it’s not the kind of medicine you can stop taking immediately.  I was trying to tell her, that I have to be careful what other medicines I take because of what I am already prescribed.  Natasha categorically said that I must stop taking these immediately because they are giving me heart problems.  I quote: “These tablets are not prescribed in Russia.  If they were, it would be a scandal. Your doctor in England is wrong.”  So sitting there, nauseously, in quite possibly one of the most scandalous countries there is, I found the courage to nod and smile and finally sloped off into my room.  The next thing I hear, is that she has informed our neighbour Ludmila of my situation, who comes up to have her say in the matter.  I thought things had got ridiculous enough, but Natasha has found her own solution to my ‘problem’.  She wants to send me to have a cardiogram.  I wanted to laugh, cry and run away all at the same moment.  I literally have never heard someone blow a headache so out of proportion.  Yes, I did feel pretty ill...but I can’t help it if I’m not as much of a hypochondriac as the rest of Russia! When I got home from school today, she told me that if I continue to take my prescribed tablets, my veins will snap.  I think that just about sums up my year abroad really.  When I went to school, I heard Natasha had rung our teacher Anna, to share the story. Anna informs me that I’m likely to have a stroke.

So just to sum up, I’m very grateful that Natasha is worried about me and I know she thinks she has my best interests at heart.  But I couldn’t help but notice the irony in her panicking about my blood pressure, saying that I’m too stressed....whilst telling me she’s going to take me to get my heart checked at the hospital and that I’m putting myself in grave danger. 

Something seems fishy

So here I am, on the brighter side of whatever Russian lurg I’ve had this week, feeling happier and a bit more like my usual self.  I just had some 5-day old spaghetti and I'm loving life.  I’m not going to descend into food rants today, so don’t fear.  I’m just going to include a cheeky little pic of this week’s fish soup. I think most of you will appreciate the algae style layer on top.  I’ll say no more- I think a picture speaks a thousand words.

Anyway, the big event on Saturday was me and Emily going to Yaroslavl central station to buy various train tickets we need for the coming months.  We had both carefully written down every detail about our journeys so that we could hand the information to the lady at the desk.  As usual though, nothing is ever has straightforward as it seems.  We took such a long time, that they had to open a new ticket window for all the grunting Russians queuing behind us.  However, we came away with tickets in our hands.  We’re pretty sure we’re going to the necessary destinations, but the type of train and type of seat you book isn’t always apparent until you turn up. Fingers crossed!

A ticket to St Petersburg.

Right now, despite the persistent ice and fur hats, the sun is shining beautifully and the sky is blue so I can’t complain about that.  To lift my spirits even more, it’s April! At the end of next month, I will officially be able to say that I’ve done my year abroad.  Mental.  But in the here and now, what have we learnt this week?  If you find yourself needing a drug to assist with cervical dilation, ask your doctor for ‘No-shpa’.  If you realise that this medical sensation hasn’t quite made it from India to England yet, I’ll take orders.  Good old Russia, always at the medical foreground.

Laters!

You Must Be Mud.

The momentous day has come and I can reveal that the great thaw is upon us!  With milder days, a lack of ear whipping wind and some sneaky spells of sunshine, I think I’m starting to believe that we are seeing the back of the snow.  There is, however, a hell of a lot of snow still on the ground and Yaroslavl doesn’t do drainage. For this reason, I’ve found myself wading through huge slushy brown puddles and heaps of sandy mush deposited on every pavement.  There is thick mud everywhere. As much care as you may take walking along minding your own business, no Yaroslavl drivers spare a thought for passers-by as they speed through the mini lakes drenching anyone in the way.  This teamed with large amounts of water spilling off the roofs of buildings means that it’s going to be a fun month or so trying to keep dry.  I’m not too fussed about this though, because after all it’s all in the build up to spring, which will be more than welcome!

Before the thaw

I had a really good weekend actually, besides the heaps of work we keep getting from school.  Charlotte and I took a trip to one of the out of town shopping centres on Saturday.  It really is incredible, how effective a therapy shopping can be.  Cruising around clothes shops and seeking out an Accessorize was just what I needed to keep spirits high.  We also tend to have a lot of fun just laughing/despairing at various things on sale.  Charlotte coined a new phrase which I have to say can be applied to a great deal of things in this country: “When will that come up in life?” This basically speaks for everything we see, which is just completely nonsensical or pointless.  The clearest example of this on Saturday had to be the pair of sandle - trainers with a wedge heel. I can confirm that this will never come up in life, but let’s try and sell it anyway.

Yesterday Lucy and I went to Svetlana’s for a spot of Russian cookery.  We decided to try our hand at preparing traditional Russian ‘Pelmeni’.  ‘Pelmeni’ are like small boiled dumplings filled with meat, resembling tortellini.  They really are quite challenging to make though.  Once we had got the dough to the right elastic consistency, we had to fold them into shape without squidging out all the filling.  They looked quite impressive but the final verdict was that more attention needs to be paid to dough : meat ratio.  They were pretty dough heavy but for a first attempt, I can’t knock them.

Pelmeni pro at work

Here’s what I can knock. Apologies to any of my classmates who find themselves reading this drivel, as I’ve been harking on about it all day, but this was always going to make it into the blog.  I’ve had Natasha trying to palm off pancakes filled with baby food.  I kid you not, Natasha the culinary great has actually gone to the extremes of emptying a tin of meat puree intended for 1-year olds onto a pancake and she assures me that it is nothing out of the ordinary.  Here is a shining example of something that should never come up in life.  Sitting in the kitchen willing that plate of horrors to disappear, I’m gradually learning that anything is possible here.  Scraping cat poo out of the bath this morning before I had shower was something I had to take in my stride and I just have to keep telling myself that this will make me a good, well-rounded person.  A good, well-rounded person...

The finished article

I don’t have many plans for the week ahead, but I’ll continue teaching some of the little kids English at school.  It’s bad to have favourites, but I do: a kid called Vlad, who I think is about seven years old.  He wears a lime green roll-neck jumper complimented with a chequered tank top and snow trousers.  He is such a lad and is actually really enthusiastic about reading, which helps massively...even if he did spend the entire lesson burping. 

So there we go for another instalment of my colourful life in this nation of porridge, puddles and prune and chicken salad. Yes, the latter was inflicted upon me as well.  Bring on another week :).

Yaroslavl: Round II

Right lads! Here I am back in dear РОССИЯ.  First of all, just want to say that for the last week and a half I was here before Christmas, I had no internet which is why my blog came to an abrupt end.  I did, nevertheless have a good last week or so and also had a fantastic break back in England, where I enjoyed family and friend time, normal food time and overall very nice weather.

Now for a wee update on what’s been going down since I arrived back here last week.  The snow is pretty impressive and it’s quite fun sometimes losing your feet in it, but this also results in quite a bit of falling down curbs lethally disguised by a smushy white blanket of it.  It’s quite cold but the sky is clear and blue today and the church beside my bedroom window looks phenomenal in the sun!  I’ve seen some incredible icicles which sparkle beautifully, but I’ve been warned to avoid walking along the side of buildings during the months of March and April to avoid getting your head sliced open by a thawing shard of falling ice J. Advice firmly noted.

Yaroslavl Mothers have replaced prams with small sledges for their little children.  To be honest it’s probably the most logical behaviour that I’ve seen here in a while.  Tiny kids clad head to foot in miniature snowsuits and great hats, from which their plump rosy cheeks and eager eyes peer out as they are pushed through the snow (with purpose of course).  As ever, there is a vast selection of fur on display.  You do not see a single woman walking the streets with a non-fur coat.  It is just the absolute norm here, and it is very cool.  I am, however, still an amateur at ice-walking.  Not fallen over yet this term, but there have been a few close ones.  I’ve developed a new reflex, where every time I skid on the pavement, I just yell “I HATE ICE”, as if that’s going to solve the problem.  My skin constantly feels like it’s too small for my face because it’s so cold.

I have experienced snow on a different level though, since being back.  Here it is in black and white.  I, yes, Isobel Lissner, have participated in the act of CROSS COUNTRY SKIING.

****USE THIS SPACE TO LOL****

We took a group trip to a winter sports place called “Izgib” which is about 40 mins away from us.  It basically consists of what seems like miles and miles of snow and you can hire out mountain skis, cross country skis, snowboards and, to use the professional term, those ring sledge things.  All of us non-skiiers took the cross country ones and were let loose on the snow.  Well, I can honestly say it was the most pointless thing I’ve done in a while. It’s pretty much like walking but making it much harder for yourself.  Ever the optimist, I attempted to ski around for one hour. When I found myself skiing uphill, I couldn’t help but stop and wonder what I was doing with my life.  Nevertheless, it wasn’t too bad and I did fall over a few times, realising how hard it is to get up again.

Home life is good.  I do feel like I’m living a double life.  It’s amazing how easily you can slip back into a completely different way of life like you never left it.  The question remains though, of whether I actually want to slip back into dealing with tutting shop assistants and foul food. 

WARNING: Food rant coming up.  Feel free to proceed to next paragraph, but you were being pretty naive if you thought I could go a whole blog without slagging off Natasha’s food. I need emotional outlet.

One evening I had a plate with some diced carrots (I have a general issue with diced carrots) and what I can only describe as a blob of substance.  I must’ve given the look of, “what is this?” when Natasha gave it to me, and she subsequently chirped up with “It is fish, but it is not fat.” If anyone can make sense of that statement, I’ll be interested to hear about it. So, picturing a fat fish, I took one for the hypothetical team and put a big forkful in my mouth.  Luckily Natasha had walked off at this point (probably tactically), because it was the most awful mixture of tastes, textures and overall unpleasantness.  The fish had a layer of something on the top, which I assumed was cheese, but it turned out to just be a thick layer of jellified skin, plus a mouthful of bones. Not gonna lie, when devil cat came sniffing I snuck a bit of the fish for him under the table, he smelt it and ran away.  This is the animal who dines on raw egg, sour cream, cheese and soup.

I actually have the day off school tomorrow.  It’s what the Russians call “International Women’s Day” and it’s a national holiday.  It’s so international that I’ve actually not heard about it being celebrated anywhere else.  I’m sure that it is celebrated in some other countries, but probably not in the style of Russia.  From what I hear, it’s an excuse to give presents and cards to any female you know and for men to get very drunk. Standard.

 We’ve just had the elections take place and although, from what I hear, there’s a lot going on protest-wise in Moscow, I feel pretty cut off from it here. Natasha refused to vote, because with Putin being Putin, she doesn’t see the point and she says she’s happy with Putin because she knows him.  Lucky her!

So, all in all having a super time back in Russia.  I am looking forward to the warmer weather a lot, when I don’t have to feel like duvet-woman every time I want to pop out.  The blue skies and longer days are making an appearance though which is strongly welcomed!

Until next time, happy INTERNATIONAL Women’s Day!

Poka J

Perekop - Platzcart - Petersburg

Been pretty slack with my blog writing recently, but as we have now dipped our toes into the festive month of December, I thought it high time to get back on it!  The end of October feels like only yesterday.  The prospect of the entirety of November stretched out before me, really didn’t fill me with joy.  In fact, sticking it out for two months more seemed like a big ask.  But here I am, with November behind me and just 20 days until I come home.  Time is certainly flying, but it’s incredible to think back to when I first arrived in Russia.  For a start, it feels like it was six months ago.  Every single thing about living here has become normality for me and despite craving pretty much everything about home, I dare say that being back in England could even take some getting used to.  I mean, three-pin plugs?  WRONG.

Ok, so I shall begin with talking about the clear highlight of November, which was my visit to St. Petersburg.  I travelled with Kate, Harry and Jemma on the overnight train which left Yaroslavl at about 10.30pm and got us to SPB at about lunch time the following day.  Not only was this my first ever experience of a sleeper train, but it was in fact my first time on a Russian train of any kind.  So naturally, I was excited and a little nervous about what was to come.  Russian trains are split into three different classes.  First class is called ‘Spalny Vagon’, second class is called ‘Kupé’ which has lockable sleeping compartments and third class is called ‘Platzcart’. As students, we opted to travel Platzcart.  Platzcart is all open-plan, with two sets of bunkbeds facing outwards on one side of the aisle and a single set of bunks sideways on the other side.  (see inserted picture if that made no sense.)  I had been told a fair few horror stories about third class travel (in the least snobby way possible).  Other people had experienced really smelly, stuffy, cramped and hot carriages which carried people who had been travelling for days and days across Russia.  Before I left to catch the train, Natasha advised me, in the kitchen, how you should use the toilet on the train because it’s so unpleasant.  So I felt well informed and reasonably prepared for the impending doom of Platzcart. 

As the four of us stood with our bags on the dark platform, the snow began to fall.  Hovering with our tickets and passports ready to board the train, we eagerly looked for our carriage, but it wasn’t there.  We then realised that our carriage was approaching from a little way away and would join the rest of the train.  I thought this was a bad sign, and we did wonder whether this was going to be some dodgy kind of ‘add-on’ carriage.  But to my huge delight, when we boarded, the carriage appeared to be a new one.  With clean, blue seats and crisp, white bed linen, it was a pleasant surprise.  Although I did feel slightly jammy that the train seemed so clean and civilised, I have to admit that I don’t feel like I’ve fully proved myself yet when it comes to Russian travel. But anyway, we had taken lots of food with us so sat in the bottom bunks eating, drinking, chatting and having the added bonus of the neighbouring bunks being unoccupied.  It was 27 degrees though, which was a little too hot...and we got told off for opening the windows. 

On the way to SPB, I took one of the bottom bunks and it was surprisingly easy to sleep whilst the train was moving.  The rhythmic motion of the journey was quite relaxing, but every time the train stopped I woke up, which got quite annoying.  Anyway, after a stress-free journey, we arrived safe and sound, if a little sleepy, in Petersburg the following day.  I split up from Kate, Harry and Jemma because they had friends from Bristol who they were visiting and I wanted to go and catch up with my Exeter friends who are living there.  So after we ate a bit of lunch, I went to meet Charlotte from Exeter.  I stayed with Charlotte and her landlady for the two nights I was there.  Tatyana was a lovely lady who miraculously made porridge which I liked.  Her house was brilliant – full of bits and pieces and looked very Russian.  Her typically Russian kitchen was great, especially because there were lots of homemade concoctions underway like a huge glass container which was somehow filtering (for want of a better word) berries and things into another container to make wine.  It was brilliant. 

Meeting Charlotte on a street in SPB was just fantastic.  She was the first person from home who I had seen for the whole time I’d been in Russia and her cheeriness and familiar face just made me instantly feel at home.  The weather was much warmer there than in Yaroslavl and I found that I was able to reduce the number of gloves I wear on each hand, from two to none and not feel like my hands were breaking.  So Charlotte took me back to her flat on the amazing metro! Absolutely loved being on the metro, because as much resentment as I have for the tube in London, being a Londoner I kind of feel at home when on a tube train.  On the SPB metro, I got all the perks of the London Undergound, just without signal failures at Stratford. Perfect!  The metro has a great system, where instead of buying tickets, you buy a coin for each journey.  I don’t know why, but I found this really quite revolutionary.

We packed so much into the weekend and at the end, I felt shattered.  I saw lots of famous sights, for example the Hermitage and Winter Palace, the ‘Bronze Horseman’ statue, the Church of ‘Spilled Blood’ (the one you always see in pictures of SPB with the multicoloured onion domes on top) and I walked down the fantastic Nevsky Prospekt, which is the main street.  The souvenir market was also so much fun and it’s a skill in itself to be able to walk away from chatty stall owners. Coming from Yaroslavl, I was taken aback (in a good way) by the hustle and bustle of the city.  It was so refreshing and exciting to be caught up in crowds again and to see flashing lights and a huge mix of people.  But despite the big western influence on St. Petersburg, with European shops (even an M&S), great cafes, restaurants and a cosmopolitan feel, it is bursting to the brim with culture, history, architecture and everything you could ask for in a big city.  I was trying to compare it with other cities I have visited, but I realised that SPB is truly unique.  It’s hard to explain, but even with my very hazy and generally crap knowledge of Russian history, I could almost sense ghosts in the city.  I know that sounds really ridiculous, but with the imposing buildings and the unforgettable character of the city, with the river woven through it, it retains all the charm and splendour that I imagine it had generations ago.  In an odd way, it made me really want to start properly reading Russian literature.

I went for some lovely meals with Charlotte, Tom, Emily, Dan and Lauren from Exeter and also lots of their friends which they have made on their language course.  It was so nice to meet everyone and chat over good food, catching up on all our Russian experiences, especially because they are all so different!

So, the journey back in Platzcart was fine, although I just really wanted to stay longer in St. Petersburg! It was so much fun and the thought of getting back to the monotonous days in Yaroslavl didn’t appeal.  But after a sad goodbye to Charlotte at the train station, we boarded the carriage again and set off home.  This time we had a humungous babushka woman sitting across from us with a face like thunder for the whole time and when we opened the window (again at 27 degrees) she put her coat on. She was really angry at us for no apparent reason..probably because we were talking.  But luckily she was only on there for about six hours.  I took the top bunk on the way back, and there are no ladders.  Those of you who have known me for a considerable amount of time, will know that I am a girl of particular elegance and agility.  So naturally, I hauled myself up to the top bunk and managed to almost knock angry woman’s teeth out with my foot.  Her face was so horrible that she kind of deserved it, but I didn’t dare look down after that..so just lie on my bunk laughing to myself.  With the roof feeling very close to my nose, I managed to get to sleep and before I knew it, there I was in downtown Yaro, ready to tackle another week.  It was a phenomenal weekend.

So here I am, at the end of that very week, feeling contemplative and quite pleased with life, because apart from the smell in the stairwell of my flat, cinnamon coated cabbage and the pile of buckwheat with liver on top of it that I ate last night, nothing is particularly offending me at the moment.  I will add, as I always do, that I am thrilled at the thought of coming home, but it’s not long now.  I was thinking the other day, that even though I’m excited at the prospect of leaving on 23^rd, if somebody was turn round tomorrow and give me a ticket to go home there and then, in a strange way, I don’t think I’d want to go.  This means only one thing- I have been here far too long.

We’ve now reached a point, where it’s not unrealistic to count down to Christmas.  Apparently Perekop will be getting a Christmas tree next to our beloved statue of Lenin at some point soon.  So I’m on tenterhooks for that.

Charlotte, if you read this at any point, then thank you for having me last weekend and thank you to all the Exeter guys for a wonderful weekend.

Всё !!

p.s. I've added a Yaroslavl weather forecast thing at the bottom of the page.  This is mainly for my own benefit, but some other person might be interested as well at some point.