JOURNAL

19 January 2005 Into January

It seems that this may be the warmest January ever in Russia's recorded history. Much of the ground is free of snow, and many days sit at above three degrees Celsius. Sometimes it snows a little; sometimes it rains a little (the latter being extremely odd, I'm told). Mini-skirts can be seen again throughout Moscow. Bears are either awaking from their hibernation or simply failing to get to sleep [BBC: Thaw]; but if they're unhappy, I'd venture to say that thousands of stray dogs and cat's probably aren't. (I observe many strays here in Zelenograd, and occasionally I see a few lying dead on the coldest of mornings.) Anyway, they say that if Global Warming is a continuing reality, then Siberia will soon be one of the world's nicest places to live, so get your tickets to Russia while you can.

President Vladimir Putin has vetoed the bill I spoke of in my last update that was to prohibit public drinking. Perhaps it was an impossible demand, for I hadn't witnessed any changes to the norm of people drinking in buses, trains, street corners and building foyers. Putin is now calling for the law to be more moderate [BBC: Veto], but still I'm happy that a few very decent pubs have finally opened up in Zelenograd.

Russia is the first country in which I have really had to watch for rip-offs and cons. I have already spoken of my experiences with expensive women in bars. Never before had I been milked for so much money merely for the privilege of talking to a girl. Well, I'm still learning. I bought a pancake a while ago that ended up costing upwards of $20 New Zealand dollars (400 ruble). It was merely a single pancake with a piece of bacon in it, but she got me through short-changing me. When I complained, she ignored me, and there was next to nothing I could do.

This Saturday just been, I went into Moscow with a couple of friends. I ordered a coffee without thinking first to look at the price - as all other prices seemed very reasonable - and it came to 136 ruble (or close to seven dollars NZ). Never mind. I paid, and left a tip (which allows me to feel as if I'm above feeling ripped-off), and the three of us went out to otherwise really enjoy our day.

Which leads me on to nicer things. Simply exploring Moscow can be a lot of fun. After my pricey coffee we went to Victory Square, which celebrates the Soviet Union's victory during the Great Patriotic War (World War Two). We were three lads, so levels of testosterone undoubtedly ran high as we walked amongst the various WWII tanks (mainly German and Russian), and later amongst other military paraphernalia such as MIG 15s and up to very unserviceable MIG 27s. It was all very Home Improvement - Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, OH.

So, by being cautious but reasonable, it is possible to have a good and fairly cheap experience around Moscow. I am very impressed with every bar that we go to - the ones we choose have very casual atmospheres and elaborate interior design - and by glancing more so at the prices and less so at the women, we are able to enjoy ourselves without breaking the bank.

Indeed, one of my most enjoyable experiences costs nothing at all: On several occasions now I have found myself being shamelessly groped when sandwiched between as many other passengers as can possibly fit onto one Russian bus. I am fairly certain that in each case it was a young woman who conducted the examination (let's hope!), and the duration and intensity convinced me that it was no mere accident. I ponder the contrast over how simply talking to a girl can cost so much, when other thrills normally reserved for serious relationships are readily at hand - pun unashamedly intentional - and without any expense.


30 January 2005 Moscow

Sometimes when I wake up in the mornings it can take me rather a few moments to remember where I am. Considering that I've now lived in thirteen cities, and that this one has more than a few peculiarities, it is maybe not too surprising. Witness: If I step across the boarder, I'm back in China, but I'm a long way from Asia. I'm in what has been called the Silicon Valley of Russia, and yet it looks like any other Soviet designed city to me. I have seen more restaurants and entertainment venues catering to cities one-twentieth the size. Technically, I'm in a capital city, but to travel in a straight line to the city centre I must first leave the city for about twenty minutes by bus. It's the warmest northern winter I've had in three years (Charles XII, Napoleon and Hitler should have planned their invasions for 2005). All this is a part of living in Zelenograd, Moscow.

If this has been the warmest January ever, this last week could have fooled me otherwise. The temperature has plummeted below minus ten degrees Celsius again, and the snow is at its deepest. There is frequently a strong wind up, and so the snow almost rolls across the earth like sand-dunes. All this will contradict much of what I otherwise have to say about the recent weather here in Moscow.

And it is about Moscow that I will now write. Having been into the centre on rather a few occasions now, it is becoming for me less the place of the tourist and more the place of the dweller. In other words, I am starting to make some sense of this massive city. The more I explore, the more I fall in love with its beauty and contrasts. I like the architecture tremendously, and I often have to remind myself to pause to appreciate some of the buildings around me. The words majestic, powerful and eclectic come to mind.

Of course, like any big city, it has an ugly side. A few of us spent about an hour one night walking around in the rain in search of a nightclub that had come highly recommended. When we finally found it we quickly suffered the indignity of face control, where no pretence is made over the fact that we are being denied entry solely because they don't like the look of us. The bouncers who do this take shameless pride in ordering us about as if we are little more than plebs. We console ourselves over the fact that what was an hour in the rain for us is night after night in the rain for them.

Moscow is also a place where for me the realities of war take on a more personal dimension. Several times now I have been on the subway when a casualty of war has wheeled himself and his wheelchair onto the carriage. They are each missing one or two legs, and they wear hideous scars to the head and face. They also wear their soldiers' uniforms, and they surely deserve every rouble that the passengers give them.

I understand that Russia wants to move towards an entirely professional army - comprising highly trained soldiers who have chosen to be there - and it is a sad thing that battles in Chechnya have been fought by conscripts who are forced to be there and who have minimal training. They must also survive in a culture of dedovshchina, where senior soldiers apparently treat juniors as little more than slaves, resulting in tens of thousands of soldiers running away every year, and hundreds more committing suicide [BBC: Bullying, Off-Duty Deaths]. I don't give to many beggars, but I always give to these guys.

Anyway, these are enough negative observations for one update, and by way of a more positive conclusion about Moscow, I still find her to be a city to rival any others that I have seen in Europe. Because this has been a warm January, if there is still snow in Zelenograd there isn't in the heart of the capital, and it's good to see her in her natural colour and splendour whenever I go in.

My comments on Russian women still earn me frequent admonitions, and I hadn't meant for it to generate so much controversy. Still, I am fairly impressed with the way that my Russian colleagues and friends have voiced their objections. The consensus is definitely that I am wrong, but everyone accepts that these are only my opinions and they tell me that they appreciate this look on Russia with foreign eyes. I find their attitude to be very liberal and tolerant in this way. My teaching colleagues tell me that at the other school (there being two in Zelenograd) my journal "frequently generates shrieks of laughter" when the Russian staff read my ideas. If I haven't quite earned their respect, at least I haven't earned their animosity.

Which brings me to my last point for the day. I have now been here for almost four months, meaning that I am fairly adjusted to my Russian lifestyle and that I can start to speak of the way things are with a reasonable expectation that they will stay this way. And I pray they do, as I have seldom found as much satisfaction in a job as I do in this one. Nothing's perfect, but several of us are thinking of renewing our contracts in six months' time, and another is apprehensive to do so only because he feels that he couldn't expect it to be as good a second time around, and this could only lead to disappointment.

For me, it is a combination of factors that makes this school right. I like all my students and my classes, for one thing, and if it weren't for this then I couldn't hope to have job satisfaction through any other means. Another almost vital factor is that I like all my colleagues, and I don't believe that there are any major differences between any of the teachers or staff in our group of ten or so. Certainly, there is no bickering, as I have seen so many times before, and at the end of every week we are all happy to go out together to unwind over a few (too many) beers. It is good to have colleagues who get along well with each other, and so every day, spent initially with colleagues and then with students, is spent entirely with people I like.

These things combine to make for a fairly rewarding working week, but a couple of cherries remain to go on top. There are schools, after all, which turn what should be a good job for all the above reasons into a bad job because of complications including poor management, awkward management staff, excessive bureaucracy, and unnecessarily complicated work schedules. Thankfully, the school here in Zelenograd fails on none of these points. The school is well established and it's geared to work efficiently. The management staff is well placed, approachable and helpful, and the administrators work with us to ensure that we have a minimum of filing to do. Because we work in Zelenograd, we are further spared the requirement of working in several schools simultaneously, and I conduct all my classes from the same classroom, which I am slowly personalising to my own tastes.

Of course I could appear a little overly enthusiastic about the school at this point, and then it might also look as if I am trying to rub certain possible readers the right way. Like in any school, there are areas that could be improved, and I'm sure that some people may have one or two very minor gripes lurking beneath the surface. But I have worked for quite a few schools now, and I had worked many jobs before that, and all things considered, this school is a very decent place to work in. If it could stay this way for another year or so, then I would be very satisfied, and my life would be better for it.

Click image to enlarge
04.02.2005: Here's a photo taken last night of my Pre-Intermediate class. I'm on the right, with Tanya, a promising university student, standing to my left. Seated from left to right are Natalia, another Tanya, and Pavel. Pavel (who sits like this during the lessons also) is one of my best Russian friends here in Zelenograd. We share beers together at least once a week.