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.

Cha Cha Slide

Yes, I have slid to the right. And slid to the left.  A couple of days ago, Perekop became an ice rink.  Now, we were told that one day we would get out of bed, draw the curtains and see thick, beautiful snow.  This was not the case.  I’ve got used to it now, but the ice has been really annoying! At least snow is soft and pretty! In hindsight though, the image of Kate and I walking to school is one I will not forget.  We have to walk through a park to get there, and it was so unbelievably slippery, even in our snow boots, that we were doing baby shuffles the whole way across the path.  We did pretty much end up standing there in hysterics, but I know this was delirious laughter on my part because I really wanted to just sit down, right there in the middle of the park and just give up walking.

Anyway, as you can imagine, the temperature has dropped considerably.  I think we hit a chilly -16 one night, but generally speaking we have had quite a bit of -10 and some random hopping to and from a high of 0 degrees.  The thermals are well and truly out of the wardrobe and looking like Michelin woman feels normal.  I’ve been wearing boots for so long now, that the other day when I popped on a pair of trainers to go downstairs, my feet felt naked.

So what has been going down in Yaroslavl and my insignificant life as of late?  Well, as a class we have been rehearsing for the play which we will be putting on for our babushkas this weekend.  We are performing a version of the Russian fairy tale called ‘Teremok’ which means ‘Pretty Little Cottage’.  We have all been assigned different animals and people to play.  I’m going to put it out there- I am the frog.  I was not initially pleased with this news! But with further consideration, I am pleased because it is a very small part.  I’m a bit worried though because I’m yet to make it through the whole play without crumbling into laughter.  It’s just so funny.  Our teacher Anna also has some specific asks of us.  She has demonstrated how I should jump across the stage in the most frog-like way.  She also said that in Russia, frogs don’t “ribbit”, but they  “kvark”.  Need I say any more? Apart from, frogs blatantly “ribbit.”

Things at home are okay, although I’m missing proper home for some particular reasons.  It’s really starting to get to me that I’m living in somebody else’s house.  Even though I pay rent, I am beginning to feel rude when I spend a long time in my room doing my own thing.  I worry that I wash my clothes too often and that I put my shoes in the wrong place.  And I’m fed up of being told that I don’t eat.  I really do like Natasha, but last night’s food really hit rock bottom.  Natasha put in front of me a plate piled up with really soft cauliflower, slices of slimy mushrooms and cheese.  This could quite easily sound vaguely edible, but in all seriousness, it was the most vile thing I have eaten here so far.  It was just a plate of grey slop.  I narrowly missed having to eat a fish cutlet as well.  I’m very open to trying new food here.  I always give things a go, but basically there was no way on earth that what was on that plate could be good in any way.

I’m very pleased that I have come this far, but my body feels exhausted.  A combination of sitting in the cold, eating very unsatisfying food and generally doing a lot of work has made me feel quite tired and my legs and arms hurt!  Cannot wait until I can just sit in my own living room, sleep in my own bed, and just eat some piping hot food that hasn’t been tampered with by any babushka.

Anyway, today we went on a school trip to the town of Rostov, which is just an hour away from Yaroslavl.  I had such a good day!  On the journey there we had a group discussion about various deaths over the years in ‘Neighbours’.  This is what we’re becoming.  So when we arrived there, we first of all went to Rostov’s Kremlin and had a guided tour.  It was really fascinating and just beautiful to see.  We went into an odd shop where they sell ceramic whistles in the shape of various animals.  I considered buying one, but then thought:

1) I don’t want a whistle

2) Who would want a whistle?

3) I wouldn’t buy one of those bird whistles being sold by that guy outside the Tate Modern, so why would I want to buy one in Russia? 

So I just ooed and ahhed a little bit and then left.

We then went to a gallery of Russian art, which I really enjoyed.  A lot of the art there was Icon paintings.  Icons are hugely important in Russia.  Not only can you buy them pretty much everywhere, but people have them in their houses and in their cars.  Ordinarily, I would take little interest in this kind of art, but our guide was so thorough and good that she really got me interested.  She explained everything from the way in which they are painted, to the meanings of the different images and even what each colour signified.  It was truly fascinating and I couldn’t believe that I was seeing 500 year old works of art.  The icon artists have to follow strict guidelines of how they are to paint.   So in a way, I found it a bit surreal being surrounded by wall upon wall of identical faces looking at me with the same expression.  After the icons, we saw a range of Russian art through the ages which I also loved. 

Finift Jewellery

Rostov is famous for a certain type of craft called ‘Finift’.  ‘Finifit’ has a very unique style which is used most commonly to make jewellery and ornaments.  It takes incredible skill to make jewellery in this way, as we saw when we visited the factory and museum.  The process consists of many, many complex stages.  But the general idea is that images of flowers, scenes or icons are finely and delicately painted with extremely thin brushes, onto a plate of enamel.  This design is then set into a very decorative frame, which can be compared to what we would describe as filigree.  The filigree is painstakingly crafted with tiny, individual strands of thin metal which are shaped into beautifully elegant curls and swirls.  Each layer of paint on the enamel must be dried before applying the next coat and the special paint will never dry if not put into the kiln.  I cannot describe how incredible it was to see the artists painting in this way.  Some of them were copying scenes from photographs onto the enamel and they were like exact replicas.  It really was such a unique and unbelievable skill to watch.

My Finift Ring 

When we got home, there was a small blizzard in Yaroslavl.  The weather was alternating between very heavy snow and hail.  When I got into my flat, I was oddly able to pick bits of ice out of my hair.  But after a very enjoyable day and a well earned small break from Yaroslavl, I am very tired and happy to be in the warm.

It’s good be a nice chunk of the way into November now.  Hopefully the snow will arrive for good soon and will brighten everything up a bit.  Hope it’s not too cold in England. (not). J

Ciao!

Performers of every shape and size

A fresh month and it feels good!  I’m relieved that we have begun November,  because  I can now officially say that I am coming home next month!  I’m being careful not to wish my time away here, but there are no two ways about it- there is absolutely no place like home and more importantly, London is better than Yaroslavl.

Now that the clocks have gone back at home, we have a 4 hour time difference, which just makes it even more difficult to speak to people.  The days are quite dark at the moment and the sky just looks grey.  Trudging through thick, sloppy mud to school and back each day is getting tiring as well.  I could write endlessly about things that annoy me here, but I am not going to...so don’t flick back to facebook just yet.  On a positive note, I have seen a fabulous selection of berets in recent weeks.  Prime beret territory is, naturally, on the wise old heads of babushkas.   I have appreciated many an adventurous beret, and the furry leopard print number I spotted on ‘Ulitsa Balshoya Fyodorovskaya’ gets my vote.

The main event of last weekend was our trip to the circus.   Moscow circus had come to Yaroslavl and we were lucky enough to get tickets.  I was so excited about it, but actually left pretty disturbed. We were pretty much the only group there without children under the age of eight...but we’re tourists so it’s fine.  The show opened with a guy performing some kind of miming story (despite it containing no Russian, I still failed to follow) and there was a lot of taking dogs out of bins and various dogs running on and off the stage.  This was followed by very cute small pigs which were running around the edge of the circle and being made to jump over little hurdles.  Look, I know this will all sound hilarious, the further I get into this description.  But you have to believe me, when I say how sad it all looked. Obviously, most people (especially Russians) adore this kind of entertainment.  But as this is MY blog, I will say what I thought of it.  Then a massive pig made a brief appearance as well.  We had general annoying plate spinning and people falling over etc.  But things started to hot up when the bear made an entrance.  I was so sad!  He was such a cute bear and he was wearing dungarees.  He was phenomenally talented (as were all of the animals) and I couldn’t believe some of the acts I was seeing.  I don’t know HOW they train them to do some of these things, although I can’t help but hate it.  The bear did a really long performance of a story alongside a man and a woman.  And they also drove the bear round and round in circles in a car.  After the bear, we also saw a horrible bird which swooped over our heads (could have done without that), followed by a few monkeys dressed in little outfits, dogs dressed up in full costumes (including their faces) and possibly the most surreal of all were the sealions.  These sealions were huge.  There were four of them and they slid around the floor before each sitting on a mini platform.   They did all kinds of tricks which were incredible.  However, I felt slightly better about the sealions because they weren’t wearing clothes.  To be honest, if they managed to get sealions in clothes, I would give them credit.

Other things we saw at the circus were a big water fountain show, a really annoying man blowing a whistle instead of talking and banging a drum-kit and a boy doing some extremely impressive juggling with hats.  I have to show sincere admiration though, for the acrobats.  We saw quite a few performers doing that swingy thing from the ceiling and also an amazing pair who did some incredible acrobatic things.  Can’t even describe it really!  Had I not been in a rush after the show, I would have had a word with them and told them where they could improve next time.  All in all, the circus was shocking and interesting in lots of ways.  If I’m truthful though, I wouldn’t go again because I think it’s really cruel to do that to animals.  I talked about it with Natasha when I got home, and she was surprised that they only had bears and sealions.  She said usually they have tigers and elephants, so at least I didn’t have to watch that!  She said that bears are terrible animals and they hate people.  Especially because the Yaroslavl bear, which lives in the Kremlin tried to eat someone’s hand.   That is not nice, I agree.  But has anyone considered, that the bear might be a bit pissed off that it lives on its own in a cage in the Yaroslavl Kremlin? Hand or no hand, I am not sympathetic.

Moving on from the circus, I have realised that you don’t have to go to a strip club to see near-naked women.  Spending some of Saturday evening in a simple cocktail bar in the city centre,  we saw slaggily (word?!) dressed women dancing on the top of the bar.  It was so unnecessary, but nevertheless we were all pretty astounded at what they looked like.  They were so thin, it was quite annoying.  We all told ourselves that they must be really hungry, but continued to feel a mixture of envy and repulsion.

As for this month, we have a few juicy plans up our sleeves! This week we want to visit a ‘hunting restaurant’ in which you can try all kinds of meat.  Apparently they have bear on the menu there, which I would be willing to sample, providing it’s not served up wearing dungarees.  I know this is quite hypocritical of me, after slating the circus but at least this bear will have been dead regardless of whether I eat it or not.  We also want to spend a weekend in St. Petersberg at some point, which I am very excited about! And also hope to go to Moscow. 

Well, I think I’ll wrap this blogski up and I apologise if it’s been a bit of a rant.  As you can see, I have spiced up my page with splash of raspberry and various shades of red.  I decided that blue was too cold a colour and I wanted my blog to match the exotic climates we are enjoying here.

Hope you had a good Halloween.  I’m not going to hide the fact that I took great pleasure in trick or treating not being a Russian custom. Here’s to a November full of banter and hilarity. xxx

Moose or Elk? Ostrich or Emu? Rabbit or Terrier?

Time for a very overdue blog I think!

All is well in Russia! It is getting very cold and we’ve had a few flurries of snow, but nothing major yet.  I have no doubt that the snow will hit us hard soon though.  Really hoping it doesn’t affect my flight home, because last year the guys flying home from Russia got stranded in Moscow airport for three days.  If that happens to me this year, it will mean I have to spend Christmas eve, Christmas day and probably boxing day in the airport- so fingers crossed this does not happen as I think this might deflate my soul.

Anyway, I’ve got this week off school for a well earned break.  So Amber, Fiona, Zoe and I decided to organise a two day trip away.  Our plan was to visit the towns of Kastroma and Plios.  For a really good price, we managed to book a minibus to take us to these places.  The driver turned out to be the absolute lad that is Sasha- A plump man with a minor mullet going on.  He was not impressed with anything at all and driving us around seemed like the last thing he wanted to be doing. 

I have to include the first notable event of the holiday, which occurred prior to boarding the minibus.  At 9am, the four of us were minding our own business, waiting outside the theatre to be picked up.  All of a sudden, my attention was turned to a pretty much intoxicated man striding towards me with a look of sheer insanity in his eyes.  Unfortunately, even at this time in the morning, this was no mirage.  He just came right up to me, placed his hand on my shoulder and tried to hug me.  In disbelief and slight terror I escaped his drunken embrace and thankfully we spotted the bus and legged it fast.

The Moose Whisperer

The journey to Kastroma gave us the privilege of another Andrei-style car experience (See blog #2).  With tinted windows and the bass blaring, I felt reassured that this was going to be another truly Russian trip.  I cannot explain how terrible the roads are here.  The final road to the moose farm we were going to, was just full of huge holes and generally unsurfaced muddy tracks.  After a sufficient amount of being thrown about in the bus, we arrived at the farm.  It was good fun and we had a good guide, or moose man as I prefer to refer to him.  The ladette that is Polly, very appropriately captioned one of my pictures of him as ‘the moose whisperer’, which I will post on this blog for everyone to appreciate.  So we walked around the farm, patted loads of mooses, debated about the plural of the word moose, I personally discovered that mooses yell like men (See youtube video ‘bear yells like a man’), commented on how thin mooses’ legs are and also fed them carrots.  Fiona also bought some rather special moose coasters.

we had a guided tour of the town of Kastroma, where we saw the spectacularly decorated monastery and some other landmarks and generally had a nice day.  We then went to our hotel which was just outside the town.  Then, we ran into a slight issue.  Russia has this big policy of ‘registration’, which unfortunately I still don’t fully understand.  It’s something along the lines of you have to be ‘registered’ when you’re staying somewhere in Russia.  And if you move about, for example, to spend a week in Moscow, you have re-register in that place (a procedure that can usually be done for you by the hotel you stay in).  So we arrived at the hotel and the receptionist asked us for passports.  Then we realised that this was not enough, because they needed to see our actual visas, which three of us had left at home because we had been told to never take them out with us.  It’s illegal to be somewhere without being registered, and you get fined.  So with the receptionists basically telling us we couldn’t stay in the hotel, we stood there like four sad foreign puppies and were running through scenarios like how we were going to get back to Yaroslavl that night because we couldn’t stay in Kastroma.  Luckily, after a lot of discussion and shuffling around, the hotel people ‘did us a favour’ and let us stay for the night. 

That evening, we had a nice dinner and then hired out the pool, sauna and steam room for around just £8 each.  I was sceptical about the sauna, because I have always stuck to my theory that sitting down and sweating your face off cannot be enjoyable.  However, as the sauna (Banya) is as traditional and popular in Russia as vodka, I decided to give it a go.  I have to admit, it wasn’t as fabulous as everyone tells me it is, but I did feel quite healthy after it.

The next day we travelled further to the town of Plios, which I have to say, was absolutely gorgeous.  We were pretty much the only people in the town on that day and it was so peaceful and quaint.  By the Volga, Plios had beautiful trees and cobbled hills (which I was not finding gorgeous at the time because I am very anti-cobbles and anti-hills.)  After some walking around chilled out Plios, we went up to visit the Russian izba.  An izba is a traditional Russian log house in the countryside.  We went inside and had a talk from the izba lady, who was wearing full traditional dress and I was particularly approving of her two gold teeth.  Couldn’t look at anyone else when she broke into song (it was only the four of us in there) because I didn’t want to offend anyone’s culture.  She gave us some porridge which I usually hate, but all credit to the izba..this was the best porridge ever, with sugar and honey.  We then had a mini tour of the outside izba museum from the man who I have named ‘guide of guides’.  He was quite old but we all admitted that we had a tiny crush on him because he just  emitted this aura of Russian amazingness and knowledge and was wearing an overcoat and flatcap.  He looked like he’d just popped out of a Russian book and we all agreed that he had very kind eyes.  Yes, we are all losing the plot here.  Anyway, he was explaining to us all about the traditional culture and showed us a load of artefacts.  Zoe got to sport a fetching poncho as well.

Rabbit/terrier/duster

Now to the final stage of our trip – arrival at ‘Romanov Les’.  ‘Romanov Les’ is an eco-hotel situated in the forest.  It says ‘hotel’, but really it’s a collection of log cabins of different sizes. It was so Scandinavian and beautiful.  We had booked to stay there for one night, but at the end of the trip we did not want to leave.  I was sharing a ‘standard’ cabin with Amber.  I can honestly say, I have never slept in a bed that big before.  It was the lushest place I have ever stayed in.  After spending seven weeks living in Yaroslavl’s mafia district, I was absolutely in awe of this whole place.  Surrounded by birch trees, our warm and luxurious log cabin seemed like the best thing on earth!  On further exploration of the forest, we found two ostriches/ emus (still don’t know the difference), a rabbit, another rabbit which we mistook for an extremely small terrier dog and Fiona diagnosed with myxamotosis, a wide selection of chickens and a BEAR!!!! Oh my god, it was so amazing there..i feel like weeping.  The other three girls booked themselves in for a massage and we spent a little while debating whether it was weird that Amber’s masseuse half stripped off during her massage. 

A log cabin in Romanov Les

So that’s the main gist of the trip, which was very very relaxing and lovely.  But it went too quickly, as it always does, and here I am back in Perekop.  Natasha made a pizza from Mayonnaise and other questionable ingredients the day BEFORE I went away.  And she was trying to give me the same pizza when I returned yesterday.  I pretended that I was enjoying the cabbage too much to eat the pizza.  Every time I go into the shop under my flat, the woman keeps striking up conversation with me.  Cannot understand what she’s saying, and also  at the moments she chooses to speak to me, I really don’t want to be thinking of anything apart from the snickers that I want to buy.  The other day, one of the cats pooed in the bath and Natasha practically picked it up by its head and started telling it off.  The cat that is, not the poo.  Things are weird here, but poo is not animate. But generally, I have a lot of love for Natasha at the moment, because I feel like I’ve known her for a long time.  Really having a wonderful and bizarre time here, but not going to lie- I think about coming home every day!  Cannot wait till I am back in England!

Sorry for the length of this blog, it is full of drivel I know.  Hope everyone is alright!

Over and outski  
xxx

Baba Yaga etc.

I’ve had to muster up the motivation to do this blog, because I honestly don’t know how to put a lot of things that happen here into words.   So we’ll just go with whatever spills out from my brain onto this virtual page. 



Leshi



The one and only place I can begin has to be the day trip we went on last Sunday.  Our friend Svetlana arranged the opportunity for us to visit ‘Baba Yaga’.  For those of you who are unfamiliar with old Babz Yagz, this is what Wikipedia has to say about her:

"In Russian tales, Baba Yaga is portrayed as a hag who flies through the air in a mortar, using the pestle as a rudder and sweeping away the tracks behind her with a broom made of silver birch. She lives in a log cabin that either moves around on a pair of dancing chicken legs, is surrounded by a palisade with a skull on each pole, or both. The keyhole to her front door is a mouth filled with sharp teeth; the fence outside is made with human bones with skulls on top, often with one pole lacking its skull, leaving space for the hero or heroes."

So, we took a 2 ½ journey on a minibus to Kukoboy, which is the birth place of Baba Yaga and is on the Yaroslavl border.  The journey itself was good, because it’s actually quite fun feeling like you can count the seconds you are in the air when the bus flies over potholes and generally non-surfaced roads.  It’s amazing driving past all these dilapidated shacks, old houses and roads lined with forests.  As we got closer to Kukoboy, we realised how far out this place was.  With no phone signal and nobody for miles around, I was genuinely wondering who would rescue us if the bus turned over.  But luckily we didn’t have to deal with that eventuality, and we pulled up at the place. 

As per usual, I have a toilet story to report.   Basically I will never complain about the state of a toilet ever again.  Even the one in my apartment which often has a nice tray of cat poo waiting for a lucky guest.  Kukoboy hasn’t reached the era of the flushing toilet yet, so we were faced with a stinking hole in a wooden shack.   As funny as I will find this experience for years to come,  at the time I was conjuring up scenarios in my head of me slipping in my wellies and getting a leg stuck down this pit.  I’m not even going to get started on the smell. 

Anyway, back to the actual point.   We got to meet Baba Yaga and also Leshi the tree spirit.  Absolutely terrifying.  This whole thing is targeted towards to children.  Russian kids clearly have a different horror threshold, because they were loving it.  So these two people dressed up as a tree spirit and a hag were jumping around talking into microphones.  Had no idea what they were saying, so just found myself sitting and praying that they didn’t include me in their audience interaction.  The whole thing was so surreal, but brilliant at the same time because I just couldn’t really believe what I was seeing.  It’s quite frustrating  trying to explain because if you weren’t there, there is no way you can possibly fully understand how nuts it was. 

So to cut a very long story slightly shorter, we stood outside and listened  to Baba Yaga talk from her hut.  Things only got progressively weirder, when they made us stand in a circle, hold hands and dance.   Then they decided to swing beanbags on ropes at our faces and then made us jump over them.  The entire trip would have been a health and safety scandal in the UK.  Love it!  The grand finale was when Baba Yaga took a liking to our very own George, kissed him, made him wear a beard and dance with her in the middle of the circle.  To set the scene a little more accurately, take all of the above and set it to techno dance music blasting out in a forest. 

SO that’s the gist of the trip.  It was so much fun and something I will never forget for comedy’s sake.  In other news, the snow seems to be on its way.  I think it’s forecast for the beginning of October.  I’ve eaten some more classic things like onion and egg pies, cabbage soup and pizza made from cake and egg.  We went to a traditional Russian restaurant which was nice, but the Russians have a completely different idea of customer service.  I waited about an hour for a glass of apple juice, and the food always take so long! But it was quite nice anyway. 

I’m having such a good time actually.  Starting to understand things a bit better language wise and also just love the fact that I’m in RUSSIA!  I feel like a microscopic dot in this enormous country, but there’s just something about it that I really like.  Will have been here for a month on Sunday! Everyone is heading back to uni now, so hope you all have a really good time being back!

xxx