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