you can take the girl out of oldham...

HOLA A TODOS

i am now living in bilbao, in the basque country in spain. completely the best city i’ve ever been to. it is small enough to know my way around, to bump into people i’ve previously made an arse out of myself in front of… but it’s still lovely.

anyway, i’ll write a proper long boring droning on load of crap soon, i promise.

besos x

sorry!

i know it’s been far too long since i wrote here.

in case you’re all wondering, i’m still alive but only just. i think the last time i wrote in here was reading week, so literally so much has happened since then. i’ll keep it as short and sweet as possible though, mostly because i have a champagne hangover and can’t be arsed writing much… but also because RUSSIA IS BORING.

lately i’ve been completely resenting russia, for keeping me here so long and having a massively difficult language. it’s really easy to just despise the place, the quality of life, people, language… because it’s just so different. but at the same time, it’s my degree, i’m majoring in russian (because majoring in spanish is pointless) because i do like it, it’s fascinating and it’s something i’m interested in. being here for this long though is enough to suck the enthusiasm out of you though. i’ve been talking about it this week, the mum of a friend of mine is a china expert, and my best mate does american studies at uni, and we came to the conclusion that these massive superpowers (usa, china, russia) need to be studied to be understood. we don’t necessarily need to love them at all. which is a good thing… i don’t want little boring yaroslavl to ruin my interest in the place, and it won’t. it’s been a massively weird experience but i genuinely wouldn’t change a minute of it.

anyway enough babbling about my feelings and stuff. that’s boring.

i am leaving in TWO DAYS… let’s call it tomorrow actually, because it’s nearly midnight… sort of… it’s half 9 but still today is over. EITHER WAY VERY SOON i am returning to england, if heathrow actually lets us fly. it should do, flights from moscow left today so this is promising! 

since reading week, i have done approximately bugger all. i have ran out of money at several points, been really down and stayed in my room for days on end at others, drank too much vodka and champagne, realised the english people at my uni are the driest, most boring folk i’ve ever met, made some friends that i definitely will keep in touch with, read the entire works of george orwell, written loads, napped loads… not very interesting but it’s passed the time. ALSO possibly the most russian part- winter arrived. it’s been -28. snow up to my knee. alright i exaggerate a little, but it was very deep. i’ve fallen over many a time. today it was a standard -15. i have a vague cold, but it’s very slight. in fact it’s just a bit of a blocked nose, and last week i had a sore throat and assumed it was tonsilitis immediately. my immune system is an absolute tank- i never ever seem to get colds.

anyway, when i return, nothing can phase me or annoy me- i’ll be all like, PLEASE, i’ve survived russia. do one. hopefully. i’ll wrap it up here, don’t want to be boring all my readers (i mean you mama) to death now. i will see you alll in a few days, whether it’s drunk at home with family or drunk out with friends, i’ll see you all in a haze of amaretto and cider. PAKA! x

good morning

or afternoon, whatever.

it’s reading week and everybody is in kiev. except me. i have written a blog update but that’s stuck on my laptop. anyway, i am awaiting hannah’s arrival <3 that is all i have to say. i’m just chilling in uni.

other than that, it snowed and stuck this week! normally i would’ve hated it- i dislike snow in england but it was quite pretty and made me think of christmas.

oh russia

can i come home now?

Alright readers! (or just Laurence, if you want to be specific) I’ve been here SIX WEEKS TODAY. Six long weeks. Only 10 left…

I’m just chilling in my room after uni. I had to write another blog update (two in a week, you lucky lady) because I’m trying to not nap as much, and this passes the time sort of until I can go out.  

Basically, I have five classes: translation, grammar, media (death), literature and oral. They’re all pretty useful, and I like all of them, except media which is a waste of everyone’s time. We don’t study what the media are reporting, or how they report or anything remotely useful, we play musical chairs and look at various newspapers to see what their ‘circulation’ is, and when they were established. Anyway, the teachers are worth an update on their own if I’m honest, particularly the translation teacher who I actually love. She’s mad as a box of frogs, today she began to sing some hare Krishna song and told us that she’s an expert in swear words according to her husband, and she swears like a man. She also told us an old Soviet racist poem, it gets worse every day ha. She always laughs away during her lessons, so naturally I laugh too. It’s hard not to. Only me and Steph seem to though. She also said today ‘nothing is ever ‘always’ in Russian’, meaning that there’s so many ridiculous exceptions and what not, it’s hard to guess. Which is spot on. Why am I not studying something easy?

I really like uni here, it’s effort sometimes getting out of bed to mooch through the cold but it’s worth it. Everybody is pretty nice, the English lot. I do wish I had more Russian mates but oh well. Still got 10 weeks left to make some.  

This place is so weird, I’m so used to everything now that when people point out it’s 6 weeks today or whatever, it’s like, oh yeah I don’t actually live here all the time… which is a bit depressing. I do want to come home, but at the same time I do really like it. And I haven’t a clue why. I’ve been told that apparently, Russia is supposed to ‘get under your skin’ and make you want to return despite the fact it’s often pretty grim. The worst thing is about that, I can genuinely see me doing that. I could never live here all the time, that would be pretty bad because there’s so much about this place that frustrates me to death, but I probably will visit. I want to speak fluent Russian and not lose the ability to. That would be amazing. But I also can’t be doing with all the bureaucracy and bizarreness and the food, which means it would be a bloody horrible place to live all the time. 

I get really annoyed as well, because you can’t drink water from the tap, which I know it’s the same in most countries, but still. I miss English taps. I seem to drink a lot of tea here though, and in cafes they insist on tea with the horrible leaves still in it. Makes me gip but it is still drinkable. Unlike most things. Mors, a typical Russian cranberry juice, is pretty weird. It has a manky aftertaste. The hot chocolates are also so thick, and served in tiny glasses, although they are really nice. Really bad for you though I assume. Like everything here. I wish they had an English restaurant. That would be cool. They have Italians and Chinese and Georgians and Uzbek and what not, but where is the Yorkshire pudding and fish and chips? I want a chip butty. Having said that if they did have English restaurants we’d probably just go in and laugh at their attempts, because we’re horrible people. The McDonalds here is quite an experience, we mostly just laugh.  It’s the closest thing we have to English food anyway. 

Oh okay, it’s nap time.

I am sorry for being so downbeat last time, I suppose just like living everywhere this place has its ups and downs, but I’m pretty happy at the moment. So this will be a happy update. 

It’s Sunday night and after another big night at Korol Korolyu I am suffering a bit. This week has been okay, another week over though. I’m starting to actually think I’ll miss Yaroslavl when I leave. It isn’t that bad, and the people I’m with are all pretty amazing. I think a lot are going to St Pete’s next semester, which is good, except Flora who is going to France which I’m very sad about. The thing is with seeing people every day, and pretty much being forced into being friends, it works. I do think I’d be friends with most of these folk back home, unlike my class in Manchester. I assume everyone who studies Russian is weird as, because that’s generally true, but most people are relatively normal (except John) which is good. 

I’ve started to see actual progress with my Russian, I’m understanding a lot more. And I’ve also been speaking to people! Mostly taxi drivers, because for some reason we’ve got in a few taxis this week. I had to take John home because he was drunk the other day, and I actually managed to get us home, truly proud. And last night, I had an actual conversation with a taxi driver, and a man. I just wish I had a bit more confidence to chat in general. But it’s coming, slowly. 

Yesterday during the day, we went on a sort of school trip, organised by Juan, to Kostroma. Kostroma is this place he’s been banging on about for ages, that nobody else had any desire to see. Anyway, loads of people decided they wanted to go, so not wanting to be left behind, we also bought tickets. 

NEVER trust John. 

NEVER go to Kostroma. 

The place is head of it’s own oblast, which is like a county, so we assumed there might be a bit to see. We assumed very wrongly. There was only a monastery and a wooden architecture museum- which was either closed for remont or just didn’t exist. The monastery was pretty gay because there were NO MONKS. I was annoyed. But also, I don’t know anything about religion in Russia, but I think it was a Russian Orthodox er, thingy. I was irritated because to enter, you had to cover your head if you were a woman. All the other females had scarves with them, but it was really warm so I didn’t bother bringing on. I just put my hood up, I looked like a thug chilling in a monastery. Which was ridiculous. I am such a feminist that it annoyed me of course, I wasn’t just annoyed because it was messing my hair up… joke. I am not a feminist apparently. I wear too much make up.

Also, I had a hangover because me and John drank a few too many sex on the beaches the night before. John drank so many that the man gave him a bonus bottle of champagne. That made the coach trip there pretty interesting. I was really hyperactive and just harassed Ciaran, I wanted to play I-spy but he wasn’t having any of it. 

We did have quite a good day though, mostly because it was hilarious, the place was so boring. It was also another backwards step in time- if Yaroslavl is Manchester in the 80’s, then Kostroma is stuck in the 60’s. Me and Flo were excluded from the group at dinner time because there wasn‘t enough seats, so we sat in a different room and watched the funny lonely hearts adverts on the TV. One of the best things about Russia is there is always something to laugh at. Russians themselves frequently amuse us. We got on quite a few marshrutkas in Kostroma, which are buses with a difference. It’s essentially a minibus, which loads of Russians packed on tightly, and to pay, you actually have to tap the driver on your shoulder while he drives. The most awkward things ever, it’s always warm though, packed into sweaty Russian guy’s armpit. That is the most commonly used public transport I think, and the trolleybus, which are really easy and relatively clean. I love trolleybuses.

Getting off the coach in Yaroslavl was like coming back from Moscow, we were so happy to see the place. You know what you’re getting with Yaro, we have our favourite places and it is home now. I miss Manchester though. I miss Oldham less though, because it’s horrible. John said the other day that I was gonna live in Oldham forever and I got annoyed and decided I hate him. He said I would bring up my kid Rafael (that’s what I’m going to name the first one, gender is irrelevant) who will turn out to be gay because he’s called Rafael and he lives in Oldham so I argued that I wouldn’t live in Oldham and he said I would. I hate John. 

There were so many dachas in Kostroma, which are summer houses that they all nip to now and again. For some reason, in Russia, lots of people have a summer house, yet their actual houses are like, really small and they use rooms for different purposes. My babushka sleeps in the front room on a pull out bed. I don’t understand Russians. It’s a culture thing though, we’ve been discussing in it class. Russian people don’t feel that it is as uncomfortable as western folk assume. 

Anyway after Kostromoo I am not going to any rubbish place that John suggests, but I suppose it’s a good thing to see as much of Russia as we can… except from any place on the ‘golden ring’. If Yaroslavl is the most happening place on this bloody golden ring, then that is pretty depressing. Even though I do actually like Yaro nowadays. With regards to travel though, there’s a few ideas going round at the minute. I’m looking forward to seeing where we end up on reading week. Apparently we aren’t doing Kazan, we are going to Kiev and Moscow again, blah. I am so excited about Kiev, because I want to go to Pripyat, which is the town that was completely evacuated after Chernobyl. There’s also a Chernobyl museum, proper excited about that. Chicken kievs are actually named after Kiev, I found out yesterday. I don’t know why. 

I’ve just corrected some of Natasha’s friend’s homework, in English obviously, and it was pretty good except from some really weird things that I hadn’t a clue what she wanted to say. I think she has the same issue correcting my homework, alas. The cats are having a fight as well, I dunno why. Masha is stalking away, then she pounces. I hate Sundays, it’s that boring I’m watching them and I’m trying to figure out who is going to win. My money is on Masha, because she’s bigger (and better) and Asha keeps running off. I love Masha. 

The food situation here is still a bit ridiculous. I’m eating less but I’ve put on weight, I assume it’s all the oil. I’m also eating more vegetables… well, mushrooms. Every day. If they are, in fact, a vegetable. And those funky green things that I can actually cope with. I’ve decided as well that when I get back to the motherland I’m going to go to a nutritionist or my doctor to see if I can have some kind of therapy or something, because I actually have so many weird food issues it’s ridiculous, I am twenty years old and I physically retch if I bite an onion, I dislike most things because of colour and texture, nothing to do with taste.

Masha is hiding under the rug and jumping around the place, looks like she’s on drugs. It is fascinating to watch. I hope she hasn’t like, found my vitamins and eaten one or something. She’s pretty hyperactive. 

During lessons, I always have my massive dictionary handy on the table, and in break times we often look up stuff to insult each other with, because we are childish. Anyway, the other day I was perusing, and I came across the word for menial, as in a crap job for some lowly person, and the word was черный- BLACK. That was so shockingly funny I was crying with laughter for a solid half an hour. Racism is apparently pretty normal in Russia. They are a bit patriotic let’s say. There’s rarely any black footballers and even as a white European looking person I get stared at a lot, but with black people they must get it a lot worse. A common saying apparently is ‘working like a nigger on the plantation’. In England you can’t get away with this stuff, it’s pretty awkward. Apparently one of our teachers, translation lady Olya is really racist. She’s also hilarious, but not intentionally. She was chatting away in Russian the other day, and I stopped listening, until I heard her say in English, ‘AND I DREAMED I WAS A POTATO’. I was laughing for ages. She always comes out with classics. I still haven’t a clue why she was saying such things. She always tells us fairy tales, like маша и медвед (Masha and the bear) 

Finally the heating is on properly! I am indoors and I’m not freezing to death. It’s amazing. Thank you Medvedev.

Anyway, another epic update is done. I hope you’re actually reading this Mum and Dad, or I’ll be well annoyed. I know how impressed you’ll be by my eloquence, I have a way with words. Only joking, I write like a tramp, too colloquial for my own good. 

It’s been about five weeks now I think, since I moved to Yaroslavl, and in case I hadn’t mentioned, there really is very little to do. Even deciding where to go for dinner is a pain, because there’s very few places that are good. Like today, we settled on McDonalds because we were in an anti-Russian food mood. Yaroslavl is big, there is quite a few bars and what not, but it seems like we’ve exhausted places, and become proper regulars at others. It’s pretty depressing. The weather has taken a turn for the worse, obviously. It’s October but it’s really chilly. There’s been a few days where it rains like mad, always the days I’m out of the house without an umbrella or a hood, never guess anything when it comes to Russian weather, it’s possibly even more unpredictable than English weather. Today was fairly sunny, but also very cold. The heating system in Russia is mad, apparently it’s controlled by the government, and this past week it has gradually been switched on. Having said that, my flat is bloody freezing, which means I nap more and sleep in jumpers and socks. It’s not ideal but I’m told they turn up the heating the colder it gets. Even in uni it’s pretty cold, but I have enough gloves and what not. Random but true, Russian pigeons are fatter and more scary than English pigeons, there are also many rabid sparrows that follow you about. This is weird because Russia is generally a clean place, there are so many people employed solely for the purpose of sweeping the streets, I think that’s to keep unemployment down or something. Either way they do a good job, there’s not much litter. I’m bloody sick of being stared at also, I probably mention this all the time, and John’s shouted at me about it, he said ‘stop being ignorant blah blah, it’s just part of their culture’. Apparently it’s not rude to stare in Russia, if this was England though, I guarantee there’d be more fights and what not. It’s really annoying, especially first thing in the morning being stared up and down by silly women on the trolleybus. The worst thing is, if you stare back they don’t get put off, and carry on staring. Next person that does it, I’m gonna shout ЧТО?!! and deck them… or just ignore them because I don’t know what to say. It’s pretty creepy as well, I always think, oh no have I got mascara down my cheeks or something, but apparently not. I’m not sure whether they stare at other Russian women, or whether it’s just down to me looking proper foreign. Who knows. Whatever anyway, that’s my least favourite part about their ’culture’, it’s irritating. Shop workers are so so so ignorant as well, if they don’t understand you, they’ll get well annoyed, and that’s what makes it pretty difficult to try. Sometimes, if they get fussy, you’re best off just pointing at stuff, which is ridiculous and means you won’t speak much Russian but it saves an earful of irate whinging. Probably not the attitude to take, but living here means you get really sick of moody folk. Also, they never say please or thank you, which is normal really, they don’t in Spain either, but there, you never get the feeling you’re irritating a shop worker by simply paying. I’ve taken to barely saying thanks, and having a poker face constantly. When I say poker I mean slapped with a fish face, just like most of the women here. I found myself really homesick on Sunday, but not in a normal sense. I’d had a bit too much vodka the night before, obviously, so I was deathly hungover. I was really craving English food and my bed, it was an actual physical ache. I just wanted to be in Milnrow, where I could eat roast potatoes and nap off my hangover, then go talk to Jim about football, and argue with Laura or something, a standard Sunday really. It’s always pretty upsetting at the weekends, because during the week I know everybody is busy with work, school and what not, but at weekends everybody sees each other, and I’m stuck here in this backwards country getting stared at and not being understood. I even miss Richard, even though I still like Masha the cat. Even if she does follow me to the bathroom, which is plain creepy. The other one is an evil monster though, and it looks like yoda, but less cute. I think Russian hangovers are well worse than English hangovers. Maybe it’s because I’m not in the comfort of my own home, and I have to speak Russian, which is never easy sober but when I’m dying of too much vodka it makes things much worse. We went to a club called Korol Korolyu I think, something weird anyway. It looked like Hogwarts, which was pretty immense, it had a big grand hall type dance floor, and the bathrooms actually looked like the big bathrooms that they have in the Goblet of Fire, when Harry has to put that egg under the water, I loved it. It did have creepy creeps on stilts though, which freaked me out. I hate stilts. Most clubs are cheaper for women to get in as well, and as yet, we’ve managed to get past ‘face control’, the practice of only letting good looking people in clubs, but I swear they mustn’t do that often, because I’ve seen some pretty horrific Russian men. Also, John nearly pulled a girl, which was hilarious. I officially like Russian clubs, they are funny. I’m still debating whether to stay with a babushka in St Pete’s, as here I don’t really talk to mine, and it’s such an inconvenience staying with somebody else. I’m paying more than I did in Manchester, for the ‘privilege’ of being fed a small plate of rice and having no privacy ever, as the computer is in my room, and the living room is also a bedroom. I’m also finding it a proper struggle to be tidy, I am far too lazy for my own good. I think I’m pretty used to it now though, but I’d much rather be back at home. I’m just pretty fed up at the minute. I’m having the usual money issues, and it’s cold, and I can’t speak Russian… I blame student loans, and myself, for picking Russian- the hardest and most irritating language ever. Today I got a letter from Laurence though, which made me happy! It only took like a million weeks to arrive in this backwards place, but it couldn’t really have come at a better time. So thank you Lozzer. If anybody else wants to write me a letter, I’ll give you my address. But please don’t send anthrax ok. John’s babushka, who is also my literature teacher, is convinced I look like Lady GaGa. She also told me I had an ‘interesting face’, which I think means I look weird. She said it in a nice way however, and I love her, so it’s cool. Her friend is an artist, and she sketched John and Flo the other week, and she was trying to convince me to go get drawn. She also said John could give the sketches to his mum, his grandma and his girlfriend, which we laughed at. The Russians are convinced he’s straight, what’s that about. We had a translation lesson the other day, with our mad teacher, and I’m not joking, she was telling us fairy stories. We also had to play musical statues. I think my Russian is deteriorating. At the minute I can’t seem to notice an improvement, but I think my Spanish, somehow, is getting better. I’m pretty irritated though, because my favourite Spanish TV programme wouldn’t work on my laptop the other day, I nearly cried because I’ve missed four episodes of the new series, bad times for Fisica o Quimica. I really think I’ll never ever love Russian as much as I love Spanish, and I think that’s why I get so miserable about being stuck here. Don’t get me wrong, I do like it here, it’s interesting and I really want to be good at speaking the language, but it just irritates me. I found Spanish difficult at first though, I need to remember that. Also, I miss Polish lessons. I like Polish better than Russian. I didn’t really have much to talk about in this update, but it seems I’ve chatted on quite a bit. Maybe because I am stuck inside, bored to death, avoiding speaking that grim tongue. I’m sat in my chilly bedroom shivering away, hiding from the cats. Generally at night, just to escape the flat, I meet people for drinks, well, I don’t drink during the week, absolutely ruins me, but other people do, and it’s nice to escape. In two weeks time, my 9am lessons become 1pms, which is nice and kills most of the day. Not a good way to look at it, but oh well. We’re in now 9am til 1pm, which gives us too bloody long to kill in the afternoon, and means we end up gul’yating (walking/having ‘fun’) for ages. At least waking up for 1pm means we get to come home at 6pm, eat, then maybe just go back to bed, or go out to see people. Also, our friends in group 3 (the slightly less stupid group) have this timetable at the minute, so we don’t get to see them. This seems like a silly thing to say, but at the moment I feel like I’ve been stuck here forever, yet there’s still so long to go. It’s only just hit me that I’m STILL here. I won’t go as far as to say I miss Oldham, but I miss everybody and I miss everything English, understanding people, TV, roast potatoes, houmous (not technically English but it doesn’t exist here) and just stupid little things. ALSO THE MOST DISGUSTING THING EVER- BROWN WATER COMING FROM THE TAPS, I WAS GIPPING. In this restaurant we go to, I went to wash my hands and the water was FILTHY, so I just had to have disgusting hands, which I found was a trauma enough- but then, THEN, AT HOME, THE NEXT DAY WHEN I WAS GREASY AND SMELLY AND NEEDED TO WASH, BROWN WATER CAME OUT OF THE TAPS. That is all I have to say- I am still traumatised. I haven’t noticed it since, but it made me die a little inside. I am also irritated because my hair hasn’t grown at all, when I really need it to, so I don’t look like a little elf. That’s part of the reason the Russkis stare so much, they haven’t seen anyone with hair like me- despite some of them having some terrible hairdos. As if I have only been here five weeks, it feels like I was born in Yaroslavl and just never managed to learn any Russian from the age of 0-20. In fact, it hasn’t even been five weeks! Somebody please come get me. See you all at Christmas. Yours sincerely, the Grinch.

MOSCOW IS MENTAL

From sleepy Yaroslavl to Moscow’s train station took 4 hours and a bit. I was sat with Ciaran on one side of the train, and John and Flo were sat on the other side. We’d managed to mess the tickets up slightly, that wasn’t in the plan. Nor was getting tickets with beds, but alas.  We mostly played hangman and I just irritated him with my excitement. I was so happy to be seeing Hannah and escaping Yaroslavl for a bit, I couldn’t concentrate in my lessons in the morning and I just fidgeted and whinged, standard behaviour really. 

Anyway, we arrived, and getting off the train and walking to the metro station was, in itself, terrifying. We got there at rush hour, so that’s why it was a bit mad, but still. People shoving and grinching about like mental, not very pleasant. I also decided to pack a ridiculous amount, but I made Ciaran hold it so that was fine. Poor guy. The toilets on the train were HORRIFIC, think absolute sewage spilling over a metal tray, I only went in to wash my hands, had to wait for a massive old Russki to finish doing something horrendous. Also, at the train station, I was horrified and deathly. The toilets there were like the bottom of a shower, but I was desperate. I even had to pay 20 roubles, which, to be fair, is 50p. I went in expecting gold toilet paper, but instead I had to squat to urinate. Lovely. 

The metro is always rammed! Except for Sundays, when it’s only slightly busy. I presume it was alright to navigate around, I wouldn’t know, because I just followed the boys round, because I have no sense of direction. It’s a lot more smelly and weird than the London underground, which I also dislike. We got off at Kitai Gorod, which is China Town in Russian, and it’s 5 minutes from Red Square. After about 10 minutes of lostness, John located the hostel and we went up the 3 flights of stairs (still not holding my own bag) and signed in. 

The hostel was pretty nice, it was small, there were two bedrooms with 5 bunk beds in each, and two bathrooms. The common area was nice, everything was fairly clean and the atmosphere was really good. There were three English folk in our room, one was a 4th year student from Oxford studying Russian, and the other two were doing the Trans Siberian. There was a Venezuelan guy, and an Argentinean, so I spoke quite a bit of Spanish this weekend, thank the lord. A language I can actually cope with. 

We got in, put our stuff down, then Hannah came and we had an emotional reunion. Sort of. We actually just drank a bottle of vodka and then went to McDonalds. Pretty standard Hannah and Claire time really. We had a catch up with Adam and Sarper, two of the Manchester Uni boys, and then went to some weird Cuban bar, drank some more vodka, then went to a ridiculous themed bar, which was like, a train station, but it looked like some cheesy wedding, because the dance floor was full of embarrassing dancers. Also, a few booths down, this man was positively lap dancing on this woman, which was the best thing I have ever, ever, ever seen. He was around 40, chunky and balding, and he was really grinding, for no good reason. We assumed he was attempting to seduce his date, and surprisingly the guy succeeded. We saw him leave with this pretty blonde woman, I think that’s how people pull in Russia. 

I had a moment in the bar, they seem to be triggered by the mention of something back home. Which is embarrassing. Hannah mentioned Leah, and I had to look away for a minute, and everyone was like, MAN UP CLAIRE. I was fine after that though, after I’d got in and had a brew.  

The next day we got up at like 9 ish to do some sightseeing, bare tourist things to do in Moscow. We bummed down the Red Square, where we saw St Basil’s, we took pictures of the meerkat chilling in its hometown. St Basil’s is beautiful, but really really bright. Also, the weather all weekend was beautiful, but this meant taking pictures was a nightmare. I didn’t anyway, I just use John’s, because I am lazy. We were going to go and see Lenin’s corpse, because I’m sick and I think the guy is cool. The queue was massive, there was three, and it shut at 1 so we didn’t bother. The intention was to come back the next day, but I was DYING of a hangover, so I thought seeing the dead guy would make me gip. Also, there were bare guards with guns all over the place, wouldn’t have been pleasant if I vomited all over the mausoleum and got shot for it. 

Saturday night, we all pre drank at the hostel, Hannah’s friend from uni joined us, and it was a really good pre drink session. The atmosphere was really nice, and everybody socialised. I chatted to some German folk, and the Argie. I mostly spoke Spanish, I am so embarrassing.  Me and Hannah got a bottle of vodka, and I managed to drink a good three quarters of it. I was steaming. We went to a club called Propaganda, I think it’s also a club night in England. I wish I could remember more about it, I have vague recollections of stroking Mateus the Argie’s passport and practically molesting it, and creepy paedo Russian men, but other than that, I was a horrendous mess. I woke up in the hostel, bitten to death by a mosquito, almost dead on the top bunk. Needless to say we weren’t in a very dead-Lenin mood the day after. We went to see the Moscow State University building, which is beautiful. It’s one of Stalin’s buildings, seven sommet or others, John was being a tour guide and telling us stuff. It’s bloody massive and so impressive. We mostly lurked around parks and stuff, the metro and Moscow in general is not very fun when you’re as hungover as I was. We said goodbye to Hannah on the metro, and went back to the hostel to sign out.

Getting the train back wasn’t as bad as expected, I thought I was going to crash out horrifically, but I just chatted to Ciaran and John. We were discussing travel plans at length, or rather, John was telling us our plans for travel during this next year, we just nodded our agreement. He monologued us. In this reading week, we’re going to Kazan and Nizhny Novgorod, which are in the Tatar republic, basically massive Muslim towns full of Mosques and stuff. Next semester, when conveniently we get two student loans, we’re going to stay in all the countries around St Pete’s, like Latvia, Lithuania and Finland, just because we can. The best thing about the year abroad is that you’re probably never going to get chances to go travelling like this again, so we’re making the most of being here. It’s pretty cheap as well, much cheaper than if I was to nip to London from Manchester for the weekend. Also, Belarus is on the agenda, because it’s fascinating. The president is basically a massive dictator, and all phone lines are tapped, if you’re foreign they will keep tabs on you, and Condoleezza Rice described it as being one of the six outposts of terror in the world, it’s serious stuff. Apparently, they are mad about potatoes as well, so I am going to love it. Hopefully. Most people speak Russian as well which is good, not that I can do it well but whatever.

When we arrived back in Yaroslavl, we nipped on the calm trolleybuses and were absolutely loving being back ‘home’, Moscow was alright but there’s no bloody way I could live there. Far too stressful. I also felt pretty fond of this stupid place when I got back, even if there is nothing to do and I did have to wake up at 7 for uni. Oh well. I guess that means I’m fairly settled now.

Something which surprised me about Moscow was money. The cars are all mostly normal, as in, BMWs and Volkswagens, just like England. For a city that was once the most expensive city in the world, the prices of everything were just like English prices. Obviously, we’re really used to Yaroslavl cheapness, which made us a bit reluctant to pay 250 roubles (about a fiver) for a meal. Vodka and coke in bars was about the same price as Manchester. I expected a lot worse, the entire weekend cost me barely anything because we didn’t eat out much, not like we do here, because it’s so cheap. I ate lots of chocolate, I’ve figured out which brands are edible now. They have a really nice nesquik chocolate bar, and a nestle one, but in general Russian chocolate is vile.

I’m going to make a conscious effort now to become more integrated. All I do I speak English, and panic when Russians speak to me, which is not good. I am too scared of speaking to my khozyaika and it’s pretty depressing. I phase out Russian when I hear it on the radio every morning, and I just seem to be trying to cope, without any Russian. It’s not good. As of today, I will try and stop being embarrassed, because what’s the worst that could happen anyway? Maybe they won’t understand me, I’ll just have to explain using different words. I know I can speak Russian, I’m nowhere near good but you have to start from somewhere. I’m going to listen to the radio on my phone, and chat to Natasha a bit more. I’ll ask her for help with my homework later. 

I’m getting a bit homesick every now and then, but I can’t help it, being here I suppose. On the whole, I’m happy and busy and becoming strangely used to Yaroslavl and it’s weird, weird ways. 

Anyway, I better get some work done, or something like that. Пока!

Hello :]

This weekend we’re going to Moscow to see the sights, and I suppose to visit Hannah as well.  The return train ticket and the hostel prices are well cheap, it’s not like going for a weekend in London at all, that’d set you back well more. When I was in High Wycombe the week before Russia, we went to London to meet Hannah’s boyfriend, we weren’t even there long, about 4 hours and that was like £20, that’s almost more than we’re paying entirely. Strange considering Moscow is one of the most expensive cities in the world, but I think that’s more to do with house prices and domestic stuff, rather than the stuff we’ll be paying. Which is reassuring because I am a peasant. The best thing about the entire trip (and worst) is John; he has practically memorised the Lonely Planet Guide to Russia, and he knows everything, so he’s got us the best deal on the hostel, planned how to get around the metro, pretty much sorted everything. On the other hand, the guy is so enthusiastic I might deck him before we get off the train. He’s also planned some gay old museum trips, I’m looking forward to the one about Soviet Russia, and the WW2 one, but any art galleries or anything like that and I’ll go chill on my own, with Lenin’s corpse. I’m going to take pictures with the meerkat that Jimmy gave me, in crazy places, just because. 

This week I’ve finished watching City of Men, the TV series about the Brazilian slum where City of God (one of my favourite films) was filmed, it was pretty immense. I’d say it was a lot lighter than CoG, as there was less shooting and stuff, and it was more to do with how the people lived in the slums, and it was a lot funnier too. Anyway, I swear I’ve actually been going out too, I’ve been watching that when I get in. Last Friday we went to a club called Joy Party hahaha. It was surprisingly good, the music was horrendous, but that’s Russia for you. I assumed in Russia, like most countries, the music would mostly be English, but there’s been a surprising lack. Obviously they’ve played the most irritating of English pop music, especially 90’s, but that’s because this entire place is in fact stuck in the past. Anyway, I wasn’t that drunk, unfortunately, so no dancing to Dima Bilan for me. SPEAKING OF he is playing next week in Yaroslavl, apparently we’re going to see him. For my readers (mum and Laurence) that don’t know who he is, the guy won Eurovision in 2008 and he has a mullet, he’s also one of the only Russian singers I know. 

I had a ‘moment’ the other day, which was really embarrassing. For those reading that I love and what not, don’t be offended by this. Basically, I’ve managed to not think about missing people, because I think if I do, it’ll make the months drag and drag and I won’t be able to make the most of my situation. That’s not to say I don’t, it’s just a coping thing I think. Anyway, I hadn’t been thinking about home, until, we went to a ‘sports bar’ to watch United play Liverpool, when I looked at the screen, and I proper welled up, and it would’ve gone unnoticed if I hadn’t turned my head slightly, because then Flo noticed, and said ‘AW NO CLAIRE WHAT’S WRONG?’ and my tough exterior (ha) went out of the window and I had to explain that I could just imagine Jimmy getting all excited about United scoring, and the rain was chucking it down, standard Manchester. 

Other than that though, I LOVE YOU ALL, but I’m not really homesick. If I was at home right now, to be fair, all I’d be doing is getting under people’s feet, either in Manchester or at home; avoiding work and sleeping even more than I do here. Or getting drunk with Diana and ending up in weird places, confused and hungover. At least here I’m actually attending lectures and doing homework, mostly for something to do, as Yaroslavl isn’t exactly rave central. I’m glad I chose here though, because I’m getting a feel of ‘real’ Russia, and not just the big cities. When I go to St Pete’s I feel like I’ll have a bit of an edge, because not only will my language have improved (hopefully) and I’ll be more prepared. You get told that living in St Pete’s or Moscow isn’t really Russia, so many people will speak English and not actually be Russian themselves, which isn’t really good. 

In my lessons, I’ve noticed I’ve become a bit better, mostly because I’m in the actual bottom group, but me and Ciaran seem to be the only ones actually trying. I’m like one of those irritating people that shouts stuff out though, and always answers questions, which is well unusual for me. I like the group, cos it’s small enough to ask questions if you get stuck, and the teachers generally speak a good mix of Russian and English. They usually speak in Russian, but change to English for the bits we get stuck on, which you can’t complain, because it really does help. We have one class though, CME, which is basically media studies, which is the most grim class ever. I go from chatting away to a moody teenager or sommet, I just sit back and dribble. Media studies would be bad enough in England, but in Russian it’s ridiculous, it’s not even interesting things like, about the news it’s really stupid things.  If we got to like, study the content of the papers, or watch Russian news, it’d be well more useful, but it’s just horrific. The woman doesn’t even speak English, so she just chats away. We also have a literature lesson, but the woman who does that class is amazing, she’s John’s babushka, but she chats away about interesting things, and speaks perfect English so we can ask her for help if we’re stuck. The oral teacher is amazing, so is the grammar teacher. I had a blinding hangover last week, and she asked us all what we did last night, and I was rubbing a bottle on my head at the time, slumped over like a mess, and we said we’d been to a bar, and she went ‘ah, lots of vodka then?’ and pointed to me. I was a horrible mess that day, so we’ve vowed not to drink on school nights! Russian vodka, while being cheap and pretty good, gives you cracking headaches the next day. Flo even passed out on Saturday morning, and her babushka is a bit mental anyway, so she sent her back to bed. She’s the kind of landlady I imagine would get on well with Mum, because one morning she heard Flo sneezing in her room, and she came in, at 8am, with a shot of vodka and said ’this is balzam, it’ll make you better’, as you do. She also forces vodka down her throat at the dinner table, when she’s hungover. 

Generally, I’m having a pretty good time at the minute, I’m really settled and although I do miss people, I don’t feel sad. I’ve made replacement friends and family for the ones I’ve left behind haha. I joke, I have made friends and everything, and we’re all in the same boat, so it makes it easier to not feel homesick with them.

Hannah’s not enjoying Moscow at the minute, but we’ve put it down to her not going out and making the most of it, when we get there on Friday we’ll sort her out! I think if I was just trapped in this flat every day, not going out much, I would be well grim, but the trick is to just keep busy. When I’m not in uni, we go out to eat, which is really inexpensive, or just for a walk somewhere. Today it was pissing it down though, which was grim, because yesterday was boiling so I made the mistake of wearing one layer without a hood. We went to buy train tickets as well, which wasn’t quite the disaster we’d anticipated, the woman was quite patient. Which is unusual for Russians, many of them get really stressed when we can’t speak well enough. All we can do is try though, I’m getting used to the feeling now, I don’t even get embarrassed. I shouldn’t anyway, because my Russian is probably a lot better than their English, and I am trying. There’s been a notable increase in my ‘fluency’ lately. Obviously I’m miles away from even being good, but I can order and speak to people in public a bit better, and in class I participate and what not. I’m still terrified of speaking much to my babushka, I’m not sure why.

I’ve noticed that many Russians won’t understand you if you say something with the wrong intonation, either that, or they pretend they don’t understand until you pronounce it right. The language has a stress system, which is basically random. For each word, the stressed part is important, and varies. It’s irritating because in Spanish, it’s always on the second to last syllable, unless there’s an accent, which makes speaking a lot easier. I asked someone ‘Kak dela?’ the other day, which is ‘how are you?’, and they ‘didn’t’ understand until I repeated it. I think the fact I’ve been to Spain and learnt Spanish by talking to people as well, shows that it is possible, you just have to stick at it, no matter how ridiculous people are. We get a bit down about how much we have to learn sometimes, because it seems like for every word we learn, we’re still a million miles off even being near the level we speak other languages (most people that I study with speak one other language). Another thing that is annoying me, is the fact I seem to have forgotten how to speak Polish entirely. I’m gonna have to get to Poland at some point in my final year, because it is my second favourite foreign language, and I refuse to forget it. I’m keeping up my Spanish by writing in my diary in Spanglish, which is really gay but it works, and by listening to music in Spanish, as usual. When I see Hannah I’m sure we’ll be able to chat away and not forget our favourite language. 

Anyway, I’m going to go do some homework, I’ve got two literature lessons and two oral classes tomorrow, and I need to revise and stuff, blah. Love you all x