Sunday, February 21, 2010

English Sausages я тебя люблю (I ❤ you)

Not that I would really want to stay here long term but coming home and staying for a while feels so damn good.

On the road home from Heathrow Airport I came over feeling all nostalgic and poetic. I've been fighting the urge to write something awfully cheesy about England and so this wonderfully drizzly Sunday morning I tried look for a poem which captures what I feel and want to say about this lovely little island but, I couldn't. Read on only if you want to be subjected to my awful writing...



Now don't get me wrong, I love my Brazilian man,
But not much can beat Cumberland's finest, fried in a pan.
Lashings of Marmite and butter on toast,
Just two things from home that I love the most.
Not to mention marmalade, fine or thick cut,
Or, not that I have it often, cornflakes a'la Crunchy Nut.
From Blogger Pictures
Don't get me started on gently pasteurised milk
or Galaxy chocolate: 'why have cotton when you can have silk?'
And the supermarkets in Russia can't contend
with Sainsburys own Earl Grey Blend.
Nor can they compare to Tesco's cheap wine selection,
The choice and prices, to me, are perfection.



Right, I think I've got it out my system, no more "poetry" from me!

Friday, February 19, 2010

Mum's Birthday

Despite my very best intentions I was not up in time to make my wonderful Mum a cup of tea or breakfast in bed for her 51st birthday, utterly disappointed in myself and shamed after she made me tea in bed, I embarked upon the joyous task of cleaning the house.

Three hours later, after dancing around the house with the rather marvelous new hoover, dusting anything with a surface (including the armchairs), sorting/folding/hanging the washing and other general tidying stuff (including polishing Bruce's slobber off the windows), I sat down to finish what was supposed to be her birthday card.
From Artwork
From Artwork
Another three hours later, after a burnt lunch of Tesco's Chicken Enchilada and two big cups of Earl Grey, and I was finished. Cue sudden panic to leave the house in time to:
-collect the (hopefully successful) scanned, mounted and framed copy of the painting of St Basil's Cathedral
-get some fruit and cream for the meringues and some wrapping paper
-decorate the dining room
-wrap the damn picture and with any luck brush my teeth and have a wash.
No such luck for the latter two but the copy turned out to be quite good, Mum loved it and the picture of the thirteen domes (which she will have framed later).
From Artwork
We had Jo, Paul, Sam and Sarah around along with Nan and us four, we tucked into a load of Chinese takeaway, followed by super chewy meringues which almost glued everyone's mouths shut - silence at the table throughout.
From Mum's 51st Birthday
It is so good to be back home and amoung family especially as this time last year Mum was so ill on her birthday and instead of spending the day treating her I spent the day taking glasses of water and honey on toast. Being able to do things like tidying the house and paint a picture is so nice, especially because it means being off work (hoo-flippin-ray). We are heading into Kingston tomorrow for a spot of 'Mother-of-the-Bride' shopping and a bit of mother and daughter time.
From Mum's 51st Birthday

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

The Making of a Classic. I wish.

Several years ago I gave my Mum and IOU for some original artwork of my own. This is the year I make good on that promise, I hope it'll be worth the wait.

It's Mum's 51st birthday in a couple of days and I'm back home in the U.K. for the big day with a sore neck and high hopes. I spent two days drawing and painting St Basil's Cathedral, I'd like to say from life but I doubted my fingers (or the rest of my body) would be able to withstand any amount of time stationery in the sub-zero temperature outside, from a postcard (much more practical). So I laboured at home making the most of the limited daylight which found its way through our groundfloor windows, crouched over the table (hence the pain) cursing at having started (and therefore having to finish) such a project.

Saturday afternoon (after the pancake expedition) started like this:
From Artwork
In the middle right through to the end there was a lot of this:
From Artwork
And I ended up with this:
From Artwork
I'm now in the process of biting my nails and waiting impatiently for a COPY of it to be framed. I didn't choose the best paper (silly me) nor did I pre-shrink the rubbish paper I used, what a FOOL! Instead I am paying more for it to be scanned and printed onto paper which isn't wrinkled and then mounted and framed and let me say this - the man at the shop, who smelled of wet dog, wasn't hopeful.

The process :

A Traumatic Week at Work Followed by a Weekend of Pancakes

It's Saturday morning and I am enjoying a pot of Earl Grey tea before I attack the housework. The weather outside is pretty average, it's cold and grey with a lumpy blanket of ice and snow on the ground some of which must be more than 3 weeks old.

I'm feeling much better this week, plans for lemonade aside I wrote a letter to my awful Russian boss which lists everything I'd like to say (but most certainly don't have the balls or the heart to send to her). I've included it here so you have an idea of the principle reason which makes living here in Moscow so damn difficult...

Dear Irina,

I will not be returning to work because of the following;

Your:

1) endless and un-constructive criticism
2) lack of time management which means that you do not have enough time to do your job properly
3) lack of understanding about my students and consequent inability to provide useful support or advice
4) dismissal of any 'details' if you don't listen to a problem, you cannot help solve it
5) bad English
-you don't 'clear out' a problem, you 'clear it up'
-stuff is un-countable, there can't be 'one more stuff' there CAN be 'one more thing'
-your stress on 'display' is the wrong syllable - when you're talking about those damn disPLAY boards by reception the stress is on the second syllable, not the first.
-its quite cute that you like to use so many colloquial expressions and phrases but it really doesn't ring true when you can't use them correctly and your general English isn't that great either.
-Oh and PS, asking a question in an exam which should be 'where do you live' or 'what's your address' should NOT be re-phrased in your own special way as 'tell me the name of the location where you live' and listen when I tell you that!
6) shocking team leadership 'skills' which consist of
-talking to your teachers like we're badly behaved children at best or like we're drooling idiots at worst (yes sometimes we might not understand because your English is so bad that it takes a lot of effort to grasp the meaning of what you are trying to say, but that is your fault not ours).
-It is bad professional practice to inform your teachers that you will be dropping in on a class 5 minutes before that class is due to begin or when the class is beginning to observe the lesson.
-It is also bad practice to launch into criticism of the lesson before the students are even out of the door and before you have offered the teacher to give their opinion of the lesson. Not allowing the teacher time to reflect on the good (and there will always be good points to any lesson) and bad points of the lesson is unfair and counter productive, you may even find that given the chance to express their opinion, the teacher will actually pre-empt much of what you were about to say, saving your breath and leaving them not feeling so criticized. We know when something is rubbish or not up to scratch and it is embarrassing to have a senior point the flaws out and ask you to concur (like we need it pointing out).
7) bad breath, eat some mints/chew some gum
8) forgetfulness, which when you forget something that your teachers have told you, you try and blame on us for not having even told you
9) shit school who doesn't pay or appreciates it's staff. Staff who are taken care of, not patronized and who are paid on time will work so much harder for you.

Last but not least, I'd like to say that I've nothing against you personally but because of your work ethic or lack of it, I would like to tell you to go and fuck yourself.

I hope you get the teachers you so truly deserve in the future, maybe some monkeys who'll accept peanuts for payment and don't know when they're being praised or patronized.

UP YOURS IRINA


I hasten to add that while I've no intention of sending this little love note now, it makes me feel so much better to know that she is one piss-take away from a nasty letter and one less English teacher. I have now broken up from school for the best part of 2 weeks which gives me time to catch my breath and chill out. Thursday, my last day, was good. It was the busiest day of my week (7 lessons in the morning and 4 in the afternoon) but the afternoon involved a party for the little kids with cake, chocolate and juice and then cake with fizzy pop for the bigger kids (and some discreet champagne and orange juice for us). After school Francesca, Jonny and I headed for a sushi bar for some beers and de-brief, it was a good way to end the term.

Back to today - Djalma and I are meeting at Kolomenskaya Metro Station to go and see the festival for Maslenitsa which is a 2 week long Pancake Day Holiday symbolising the end of winter and the beginning of Spring. Apparently tradition involves; eating lots and lots of pancakes (obviously!!) which symbolise the sun (warm, round and golden), a bonfire at the end of the holiday with the burning of a Maslenitsa effigy, performing bears (not so good) and fist fighting (delightful!!). And of course as it's a park and there is still snow on the ground, there'll be a spot of boarding too with yours truly as the obliging camera woman.

http://goeasteurope.about.com/od/russia/a/maslenitsa.htm

Well, despite our best intentions the weather got the better of us with the freezing temperature, a brisk arctic breeze and snow driving us back into our little hole. We had pancakes in this old log cabin.
From Ginger on the Road
There were several of them all packed with cold people wrapped up in massive coats, it was jam-packed. We headed out to find one of the larger slopes and got no further than a hundred metres before D, who only moments before was intent on getting some board jumps in, suggested going home and getting back into bed. Well, he may have suggested it and although I was game for a run or two down the slopes, the thought of freezing my tender English buttocks off in the inhospitable weather did not greatly appeal. Back we went, finishing off the day with some honeybeer (not that nice), a nap and some research into Egypt.
From Ginger on the Road
From Ginger on the Road

Saturday, February 13, 2010

How This Half Lives - Living in Москва

This post was going to be called "How the Other Half live' but I thought I should describe the situation I'm going to compare it with first.
From Drop Box
Everyone but no-one lives in apartment blocks in Moscow, there is simply no room for town houses, attached, semi or otherwise. Be they flaking, rundown with a smell peculiar to old Russian buildings (as anyone who visits will soon find out if they come to our flat) or modern, spacious and slightly fresher. For the most part it is the former of the two which dominate the residential market in this enormous city. Hundreds and Thousands of people all cooped up like sheep in large, ugly, concrete blocks of misery. The mandatory lifts in each block are a definite plus if you happen to live above the 5th or 6th floors and they don't smell too bad either (I've been in many a lift here and not one smelt of pee).
A plus point of living in one of these grey monsters is that they are all built to keep people out, with security codes and security doors and at least 3 keys to get through your front door (which is heavy duty and usually padded) which is really rather comforting as you are not advised to open your door to anyone you're not expecting. That said the occasional drunk does manage to find his way in, drawn the warmth, to get a few hours alcohol induced sleep sprawled on the stairwells between floors. They are never any trouble though (aside from the smell).

Muscovites are blessed with a seemingly endless supply of piping hot water although it is occasionally turned off for 10 minutes to several hours without notice and when the water supply does return to normal the water is judderingly spurted out of the tap a decidedly unhealthy rusty red/brown. Depending on how long the supply has been cut off for it takes 2-20 minutes for this muck to run it's course. Nice. Unfortunately the cloud to this silver lining is that the hot water is turned off for 2-3 weeks (by district around Moscow) which means visiting a friends house most days, if you've no friends - enduring cold showers or if you don't want any friends -going without a shower until the hot water is turned back on (I'm quite sure that Djalma prefers the latter option using only the sweat on his body and wash-in-a-can to keep smelling, ummm fresh?!).

Another benefit of a residence in Moscow is free heating, well I presume it' free as I haven't seen any bills for it (or for gas for that matter), only electricity and phone bills. Unfortunately you don't get to choose when you have the heating on, only when you can turn it off (if you're lucky and your radiator has some knobs!). It is turned on by the local authorities at a pre-ordained time and turned off again once winter is over (continuous heating for 6 months of the year then as this is how long the winters here are). Believe it or not the system usually works quite well, with the exception of last winter when after a very sudden and sharp drop in temperature mid-autumn (which only lasts for about 3 weeks so no biggie) the government or whoever it is in charge, turned the heating on early after numerous complaints and voiced concerns over the welfare of the the elderly (about 95% of the population) and infirm who may be especially susceptible to hypothermia (Russians are hypochondriacs when it comes to the temperature, preferring to keep wrapped up what-ever the weather). Not EVER a hypochondriac myself, I never complain me, no way hose, even I had to admit that it was worryingly cold indoors, at night I slept fully clothed wrapped up in my dressing gown underneath the piddling duvet the school provides AND a woollen blanket, I did have double glazing in that flat although with all the holes in the old wooden frames I'm quite sure that one single glazing would've been just as (in) effective as double. Anyway within 4-5 days of the heating system being prematurely switched on, lo and behold, an Indian Summer!! JOY! My newly cosy little apartment was transformed into an unbearable little sweat box within 24 hours, 2 weeks of sleepless sticky night later and Winter arrived.
HTOHL5
Another I can't complain about, instead it's the one thing I actively praise for it's beauty, form and function is Московский метрополитен aka THE METRO!!!
I've yet to visit all the stations but I do plan to before I leave. It is a toss-up as to whether the stations are a joyful combination of form and function or whether they've only been designed with function in mind, but that said a large number are grand in design, size and the materials and workmanship. My first flat in Electrozavodskaya was next to a metro station (of the same name) which was closed for refurbishment, so the first 3 months in Moscow I had to walk and extra 15 minutes to the next station, which was nothing to write home about, until the beautiful day that MY station opened. It was total fluke, I happened to be passing by the station when I noticed that a couple of people had disappeared inside and that a few more people had appeared from its vicinity, I decided to step closer, take a look when I discovered to my un-imaginable joy, that the damn thing was open for business!
I stepped inside, the smell of new was overwhelming, the floors were clean, un-scuffed by old men's boots or young ladies stiletto heeled FMS and very very shiny, I was in heaven. And the best thing is, is that it was completely beautiful. Downstairs the middle of the platform lay under a curved ceiling studded with light bulbs, the warm, clean light flooding the interior, carved relief marble showed scenes of men and women working in the field and in small factories (ok, so not THE most beautiful of subjects but a lot better than some of the other soviet stuff). The columns were all cream marble and the walls on the opposite sides of the platform all dark red marble and very shiny. LUSH, I enjoyed getting the metro so much more from then on. Now of course I'm in Kozukhovskaya which is big but not special, functional but uninspiring.

The best thing is the variety of the stations, because the system has grown with Moscow there are loads of different styles from different eras and so while some of them carry a heavy soviet/war theme many of them don't. The Metro system has 180 stations, is the second largest metro system in the world (second to Tokyo's twin subway) and was first opened on May 15, 1935 at 7am. There's some more information here about the system (fascinating stuff!).

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moscow_Metro

Sunday, February 7, 2010

Making Lemonade - Second Cultural Outing

Friday the 5th of February 2010
Well, after an exceedingly rubbish week at work, I'm not much in the mood for lemonade, instead beer, wine or any other alcoholic beverage for that matter rather takes my fancy.

It's Friday night in Moscow and I'm back at home after a 3 hour round trip to teach my student, in what turned out to be a cancelled (but thankfully paid for) lesson, tucked up in bed, another 2 episodes of Sex and the City under my belt, halfway into my second lemon flavoured beer and feeling much better about the (not so) wasted trip out of Moscow. I might be teaching tomorrow but I must plan my weekend wisely if I'm to get through this damn list. I think I'll keep this weekend central, maybe the Kazan Cathedral, Monastery of the Epiphany and Nikolskaya Monastery...

Sunday the 7th of February 2010
It's early evening and I'm back in my flat after a little something to eat at a local bar which in no way could I pass off as a 'second cultural outing' mind you, it was quite productive. 90 minutes after entering the premises of my local Krushka, which is incidentally the furthest I have ventured on the other side of my metro station (Кожуховская), I left with 1 card and 10 postcards written and addressed (to everyone I have in my address) book. All I need to do now is find my flipping stamps and a post office.
Our House
Sorry it wasn't a more thrilling read, it should've been entitled 'Leaving the house once or twice doing nothing much interesting...'