29/11: in the darkling wood
Over the last few months, I have omitted to mention one of the most pleasing things about living here. When the weekend comes, and I contribute to the university English club, and I participate in my stumbling uncomprehending way in the Russian Club. The latter was banned because of its assistance to foreigners unattached to the university. It has a new name and a different room and its still open. Well done that unpaid volunteer. He is a symbol of everything that is free and open-minded about Russia. When I think about many of the things I don't like around here, I always remember him and the companionship of the young students (and drop-outs and others) I see at the clubs.
Part of my enjoyment is leaving to one side the classroom and my noisy flat, getting on a marchrutka (minibus turned into public service bus) and walking through the wood to the university. I know that wandering through snowy woodland is not a uniquely Siberian experience, but it blows out the cobwebs and leaves me with a feeling of wonder. As the sun goes down, the slender trees are my companions amid a cottony backdrop. The path ahead of me is a gleaming white, a cinematic environment.
When I reach the university, I walk down a path between two white creatures, an upright dragon and a buddha, created out of snow by the students.
On Friday evening, I joined an English student of Russian who is here on an exchange and the Russian organiser mentioned earlier to plan a session of the Russian club based on British themes. The organiser, at my instigation, had previously introduced me to the psychology department where I had had a difficult time introducing my Russian version of CareerSteer. They had suggested a meeting first. I said that this would be a meeting about having a meeting and finally persuaded them to look at the web site. They understood what it was then and said that they would pass it to the Dean of psychology. In the subsequent Russian club meeting, my friend said, look, there's the Dean, do you want to meet her? and rushed down the stairs, with me limping in hot pursuit. It turned out that the Dean's colleagues had not passed her the information about my site so my friend saved the day. As so usual here, things get messed up in spite of all efforts to further them, but then good luck and kindness sort it out again.
A word of warning: don't buy bottles of Guinness if you happen to shop in Berdsk supermarkets. In spite of the labels claiming Dublin production, they contain Russian brown beer. It's potable, but isn't stout, let alone Guinness. At double the price of the local beer, somebody is enjoying a good mark-up.
Part of my enjoyment is leaving to one side the classroom and my noisy flat, getting on a marchrutka (minibus turned into public service bus) and walking through the wood to the university. I know that wandering through snowy woodland is not a uniquely Siberian experience, but it blows out the cobwebs and leaves me with a feeling of wonder. As the sun goes down, the slender trees are my companions amid a cottony backdrop. The path ahead of me is a gleaming white, a cinematic environment.
When I reach the university, I walk down a path between two white creatures, an upright dragon and a buddha, created out of snow by the students.
On Friday evening, I joined an English student of Russian who is here on an exchange and the Russian organiser mentioned earlier to plan a session of the Russian club based on British themes. The organiser, at my instigation, had previously introduced me to the psychology department where I had had a difficult time introducing my Russian version of CareerSteer. They had suggested a meeting first. I said that this would be a meeting about having a meeting and finally persuaded them to look at the web site. They understood what it was then and said that they would pass it to the Dean of psychology. In the subsequent Russian club meeting, my friend said, look, there's the Dean, do you want to meet her? and rushed down the stairs, with me limping in hot pursuit. It turned out that the Dean's colleagues had not passed her the information about my site so my friend saved the day. As so usual here, things get messed up in spite of all efforts to further them, but then good luck and kindness sort it out again.
A word of warning: don't buy bottles of Guinness if you happen to shop in Berdsk supermarkets. In spite of the labels claiming Dublin production, they contain Russian brown beer. It's potable, but isn't stout, let alone Guinness. At double the price of the local beer, somebody is enjoying a good mark-up.