Consistency

Due to upcoming holidays (the First of May and Victory Day on the 9th) and other end-of-the-semester full study schedules, this is my last full week of classes as I'm used to this semester. I can't believe it! But, I've never described my weekly class schedule to you, so you probably don't know what I'm talking about.

Here's the basic frame of my week of classes, listed in a fairly uninteresting format:


Monday: evening with some translators

Tuesday: morning with the International Management Studies group; evening with some other translators

Wednesday: morning with the first-year БТП students (with a major called "technological safety in the processes and production of the oil and gas industries"); then a hop over to the lyceum for some sort of class followed by English club with the lyceum students.
(Russian class for me with a tutor in the evening)

Thursday: morning to lunch with two groups of Public Relations students--I've had these students consistently for the entire year; evening with the university English club.

Friday: afternoon with the business students at MIBI, a business school.

Sunday: reserved evening for some students working on their language skills before heading to America on the Work and Travel program this summer.


With that frame in place, I also scout for some other classes to go to at the university or at Rostok, the elementary school. But, that's the basic, that's the routine, that's the schedule that gives my time here in Ukhta some sort of comfort in its order and consistency and familiarity. I like these weekly groups that I go to because I've been able to create a relationship with them (as groups or with some students, as individuals). I get to make more jokes and references with them and have a chance to see some progress in their speech, or at least in their willingness to talk to me. I mean, other groups that I go to can be good, too--they invariably ask me a bunch of interesting and sometimes very forward questions--but then I leave and possibly don't meet with them again.

So, thinking that this is my last week of this sort of time I've created for myself in Ukhta is not the smallest deal. It took me a while (I guess about 5 months) to finally get a hold of a schedule I am pretty comfortable with in a town that I feel fairly comfortable maneuvering in. Before this schedule, I was sometimes super busy and felt that I had no time to myself and sometimes I hung around, swimming in time. Basically, I couldn't find a balance. It's been easier for the last two months, being able to find more comfort in my time and space and place. Now it's time for a little more change (in the next few weeks) and then a lot-a more (in the next few months), but hopefully I'll be able to hang onto that comfort of consistency that I'm holding onto now.


Okay, time to get some color on the blog:

MIBI class and me on a field trip to the regional museum. Here we stopped at the Eternal Flame in town. 

3:40 AM

For some reason, this morning I woke up at 3:40. After turning a little in bed, I rolled out, attracted to the orange glow of my curtains. It was already dawn and quite bright. I wasn't able to sleep for a little over an hour, but happily watched the sun rise for a few minutes around 4:30 before I put on some blinders and drifted into strange adventures with some friends, family and my rabbi.

If you're interested in checking out the patterns of the sun up here Ukhta, go to this site. It has some fun charts to look through.

The streets where I live

The streets of Ukhta look different than they did one month ago.

A month ago, I was surprised by all the activity on Lenin Prospect (the main street in Ukhta and, for that matter, the name of the main street in many other Russian towns). Marshrutkas (the vans with a large number and a list of destinations taped on the window that usually shuttle people around town) along with larger buses lined the streets, one after another. In the spirit of International Women's Day (or in the spirit of earning money on Women's Day), the vehicles had been converted: instead of carrying people, they now carried flowers. The owners kept the engines of their new flower shops running to keep the plants looking lively and called out to the pedestrians to attract them inside.

Those buses left after Women's Day, making more space for the sellers who are regularly on the side of that road: Solo sellers with tables or without, buckets of potatoes, open boxes of dried fish, jars of assorted berries, packets of honey, pairs of pimi (deerskin boats) and valenki (felt boots), handmade woolen scarfs, mittens and socks and most recently a table full of vegetable and flower seeds. A truck usually stands there also, a man inside selling milk products from a small rectangular whole in the back. Also, there's a trailer that converts into a well-lit stand for cheese, meats, butters and some pastries. I have only bought four things from these street sellers these last seven months: cranberries in a jar to make cranberry sauce on Thanksgiving day; one pair of very thick, large woolen socks; a white woven scarf; and some sweet pastries with tvorog (that cottage-cheese stuff I've mentioned before) inside.

The week of Women's Day, other people were also making themselves known on the main street and around town. Russia's regional elections took place on March 13th, and the lead up to this voting day looked like the Russian flag - strips of white, blue and red - flying over a bear: the symbol of Russia's main political party. People supporting the party were on the streets handing out information, billboards were pasted with the portraits of supporters around town. The largest poster hung on the side of one apartment building on the main street, sporting a huge portrait of Prime Minister Putin. Even an ice sculpture of the party's bear still stood from before New Year's in the iceland in front of one of the shopping centers in town. Now, a month later, most of the signs and fliers have been taken down, the ice has melted and not many people are talking about politics with me.

Yes, the ice has melted. Mostly. Right after I realized I was quickly nearing my five-month anniversary of wearing my long and thick down coat, I took it off and realized the seasons were changing. A week and a half ago, we were still ice skating on the rinks. Now, that's impossible. (An indoor ice-skating rink is currently being built in town, but for now, the sport is still seasonal in Ukhta). During the winter, I even saw kids ice skating on the sidewalks, because, in reality, their was a sheet of ice covering the entire town, roads included. But, that's gone now. And, this change happened pretty fast, making Ukhta feel like a huge science experiment on the properties of water. We went from frozen, to slush, to flood, to walkable but still hopping some puddles and dodging some mud patches within the last 10 days of daytime-above-freezing temperatures.

Last week, my dormitory turned into a castle, difficult to get to because of the surrounding moat. And, I'm not even joking. Getting to class one morning was an obstacle course: 1. exit the 12 doors to the street; 2. look down so as not to get water falling from the roof in your eyes; 3. find the longest peninsula of land to hop across the moat;  4. look up to make sure the remaining snow pile on that steep roof will not fall on your head; 5. step through the slushy parts so as not to walk straight through the puddles; 6. grab ahold of the birch tree branches while balancing on the icy curb to cross that long puddle in front of Building L; 7. hope for the best (meaning dry feet). The next day walking to school was much easier. I just put on my tall rain boots, and off I went, teaching shoes under my arm, trudging right through the puddles. This seemed to be a popular solution in town, especially with the newly fashionable rain boots with heels. Those without rain boots, though, have either had to be creative or have stayed inside this whole time.

Now, there's a sign hanging in the dormitory--"Subotnik" (субботник)--calling for community cleanup. Subotnik refers to unpaid community work on Saturdays that was common in the Soviet Union. The students are required (but in no regulated way, I think) to go outside and help clean up around the university housing. The last few days I've seen them moving the piles of snow around in an effort to spread it thin and make it melt.

Spring is here. 

Good days for sliding

I received a phone call almost every Sunday morning for the last few months. It was my friend Valera, breaking the news: "it's too cold to ski today." Ukhta had a very chilly February. Temperatures reached down to 40 below (that's Celsius or Fahrenheit) a few times and froze pretty consistently around -22 F
(pun intended). We decided that it would have to be warmer than -4 F if we wanted to get out to the woods and feel the chill pressing on our faces when we locked our skis into the cross-country tracks running downhill. So, we waited.

During the months of waiting, I slid around a few times on the ice-skating rink only 100 meters from my place. Iolanta had been an figure skater in childhood, but hadn't been on a rink in years. One night in January, I was walking around sorta bummed that I had spent the whole day indoors, heard music coming from behind the university's athletic center and followed it. The rink looked so inviting. I called Iolanta and we beelined there. The workers handling skate rentals got a kick out of my New York State driver's license that I handed them in exchange for the skates. Since then, they always welcome us by name and are happy to chat.

But, back to skis.... March's weather has been so beautiful. The temperatures have been sliding up and down between 17 F and 33 F this past week, to the delight of almost everyone. (Some people have told me that they would rather the temperatures stay really cold, so that we don't have any of this melting mess). So, last Saturday, my friend and I finally got out to the woods with skis, poles and boots. Although I had told him that I can ski (I mean, I can), I was slip-sliding all over the place while just trying to skate. Fell three times, but each time with laughs. The sun was shining and we were far enough away from the city and factories that the air felt fresh. I was so happy to be standing in snow, surrounded by pine trees. It's very rare that I leave the city for the forest outside of Ukhta, and I was craving nature. At a fork, we went left, and bushwhacked a little to get a good view of the city from a hilltop. We took our skis off and ran up a steep hill where there was an even better view, and lots of pieces of thick cardboard. Of course. I have seen this on multiple occasions. Cardboard sitting at the tops or bottoms of hills here, just waiting for someone to sit on top of it and speed-slide down a slope. So, we sled.

Funnily enough, I was invited to ski the next morning, too. By eight a.m., I was sitting with a teacher from the lyceum and her friend in a turquoise cottage in Airport, a town aptly named after the nearby airport that flies and receives a plane once a day, to and from Moscow. By nine, we heated up the cottage, and got on the skies--this time, classic style. We slid slowly, stopping many times to talk or admire the forest. The teacher in front found some cardboard in the woods, stopped, ripped it into a suitable size to be sat on and shoved it up her coat for later use on some hill. The cottage had gotten really cozy by the time we came back, so we sat and relaxed before heading back to our days in the city. The two women sang songs in old voices, sliding back and forth between tunes in Russian and those in other languages: Belorussian, Ukrainian and Komi.

These are good days for sliding.

Women's Day!

I get a little confused on days like this. Today is Saturday, a regular weekend day. But, the ladies at work asked if I could come into work today to celebrate. Of course I said yes. What are we celebrating? International Women's Day.

With a name that starts with International, I'd think that the 8th of March (the official day of the holiday) would be something I knew more about before I came to Russia. I'd heard that the day existed and knew that March is considered Women's History Month in America, but that's about it. For me there was no big fanfare or hurrah. Here, there's no way anyone could not know about it. In fact, International Women's Day is a national holiday--which basically means no school, no work. Leading up to the holiday, I am congratulated everywhere I go with a "Happy Upcoming Holiday" (you can't say "Happy Women's Day"-- or any other holiday or birthday for that matter--until the actual day of the happening) and sometimes a tulip or two.

The holiday itself wasn't what confused me. What confused me was why we are celebrating today--the holiday isn't for another 3 days. When I was invited into the office, I thought we might collect on the weekend solely to party in celebration of us-women. Maybe we'd run free through the halls of our institution like rebels on an off day just because we could. What I didn't realize until midnight last night when a friend said he would need to go to bed to get enough sleep before work, was that today is a work day. An official work day for all. That's why I was invited into work today.

So, my daydream of women bouncing off the walls of an otherwise empty large Soviet-style cement building on a Saturday did not come true. The logic of the Saturday workday is this--if everyone goes to work today, then no one will have to go to work on Monday. And, as we already have Tuesday off because of International Women's Day, we can all have a three day weekend: Sunday, Monday and Tuesday.

And, regardless of work, we also partied. At noon in the international office we ordered a 2 kg pizza from the cafeteria on the basement floor of the building and loudly celebrated. Nadya and I then took a taxi over to her husband's work where there was a large performance of singers, dancers and jokesters. We had to show our passports to get into the business building. The guards looked at mine, said, "what is this?" then asked me to show my Russian passport, not my American one. After this performance, we booked it back over to the university by hailing a car to take us over. A man pulled over, took us to the main campus and only made us pay 40 rubles. A formal taxi in Ukhta charges 60 rubles ($2 American). At the main campus, we had our third party of the day--sushi and tea with co-workers of an office connected to ours.

Women worked a half-day today, men a whole day. At least for workers at the university. (Teachers are probably an exception, working all the time).

So, now I still have three days of weekend ahead of me. I didn't know it was coming. On Tuesday, the 8th, I will go to the Miss University competition held at Ukhta's main performance center: "The Palace of Culture." The girls competing have been preparing for months. For the university, it's a big event. The rector with be on the judge panel. 

What does winter look like?

Here are some photos from my recent walks around Ukhta. Today, Nadya told me that it takes an American to point out how beautiful this city can be.

I love the look of winter here.

Along Chibyu River in Vzrosly (Adult) Park

I love Ukhta graffiti in Adult Park 

"Lenin is Always with Us," Lenin with a nice snow hairdo

Playing in Children's Park

Walking home from yoga

Outside of town - Zeryunova

What's under there? The building in the back is the main campus of the university. 

The wedding locks on the longest bridge in town

What does Sunday look like?

I wasn't sure that I wanted to wake up right at nine today (I was at a four-year-old's birthday party until late last night), but Iolanta's call for yoga pulled me up out of bed, into the super-warm clothing I put on every day and then out into the not-so-cold weather. Again, not-so-cold means about 0 degrees Fahrenheit - but, really, no joke, that doesn't feel too cold to me anymore. It's good walking weather.

That started my Sunday. Here's how it continued:

I wasn't able to balance on my hands with my knees resting on my elbows today in yoga. Жаль! But, hey, what's new?

Blini - you could call them crepes - waited for me next. Iolanta filled them with tvorog (farmer's cheesy/cottage cheesy??) and then fried them. I put berry jam and honey on top. I love this meal, especially in a friend's kitchen listening to family small talk.

Next, I was invited to sing with a small choir that meets on the eighth floor of one campus building with a great view of the snowy city and surroundings. This was my first day singing with them. I liked how we first sang around the piano, then in our own circle facing inward, then outward. After singing, four of us got tea at the new pizza place around the corner. It's the second Senor Pomidor in town.

Next, focused Russian. A few months ago, I asked an English teacher at the university to be my Russian language tutor. This was my first class back after the long vacation. She works a lot on my pronunciation of hard and soft sounds, gives me grammar exercises, listening and summarizing practice, and we watch segments of a 1961 Soviet comedy - "Devchata." Today, after pointing to an article that I read in one of the university's publications about students taking exams, Olga told me something fun. The night before exams, students, praying that they will do well the next day, often open the small corner window that's in all big windows here, and scream халява (meaning, give me a freebie) 3 three times while waving the little booklet which contains all of there grades, written and signed by teachers. They do this right at midnight. I will definitely make sure to open my window at midnight some nights for a chance to hear these calls.

Next, my weekly Sunday meeting with a group of four students who are preparing to go to America this summer for work. They will go with the program Work and Travel, which sets them up with employers in the US. Usually we meet in the cafe across the road from my apartment, but tonight I invited them to my place. I wanted to host, and found myself preparing by running to the store for the regular 5 liter bottle of water to make our tea with and then putting candies on the table--neither which I could have done without. Usually, our meetings just consist of questioning and answering, sometimes role playing, hanging out with the English language. They can have pretty interesting questions for me about how things are done in America, how people carry themselves, what type of laws are there, etc. Today, though, I read little puzzle stories, had them repeat them and then answer them. They sat on my couch for practically two hours with scrunched up, thinking faces. We finished up the evening by playing a game of Bananagrams. Great game! It's been a hit with every group I've taken it to.

So now, it's night time. I ran to the store right before 11 when it closed, but it was out of milk and eggs, both. There was something extra which I hadn't seen before, though: a dog, hanging out around the noodles and sausage section. No one seemed to be too bothered. It was probably too cold for it to hang out on the streets, so I don't blame it for sneaking inside. I would also. And, I do - very often. When I'm out for a walk, I sneak into stores for the sake of warming up my toes.

That's my Sunday.

Thanks for reading. 

February apprenticeship

Happy 2011! And, while I'm at it, Happy February!

I'm a little late to greet the new year. But, February 1st is the beginning of the new semester, new teaching groups, new classes offered to me through Ukhta.... And I've actually made some resolutions. Not for the new year, but for this next chunk of my stay in Russia, starting right now. (And, no, of course I will not tell you my resolutions.)

So, I'm going go into February like it's something new.

I started this new February with a surprise (but all-in-all pleasant) home visit from a doctor, a low key day around my apartment, a visitor for tea, and a hour and a half knitting lessons from the guard who sits at the entrance of the dormitory. I decided to hang out on her couch for a while as an apprentice while she retaught me how to hold my hands around the needles. It's fun watching the interactions between the students and families who enter the dormitory and this guard...especially right at 11pm when she has to close up the building. She starts to speak up louder, telling whoever is in the shower that they better get out. She tells the girl who wants to get milk at the store quickly before she locks the entrance that she better run fast and only get milk, no alcohol or anything. She gives an eye to the people who straggle in five minutes after 11, or just a friendly tease. I'm so curious about these women who work at the door. They have such authority and so much knowledge of what goes on in the building. I think I'll be apprenticing a little more.

Yoga

For about a month and a half now, yoga has been part of my weekly routine. I usually go two or three times a week to a fitness club on "Factory road" with my friend Iolanta. It's great to have a yoga partner--we wake each other up in the morning and encourage each other to go to class. The first day I met Iolanta (after a lecture I gave to her public relations class at the university), I told her that I just started yoga. In a city of about 120,000 people, I was fairly surprised when she said that she goes to the exact yoga classes that I had tested out. She started about 6 months ago. We've been going together ever since that day.

Class is fun. I'm finally getting a hold of all the words I need to understand the exercises in class. That doesn't mean I'm able to repeat all the Russian yoga jargon, but can recognize it, for sure. Sometimes I giggle a little when I misunderstand a command and go one way while everyone else goes another. It happens. (It's like when I played French horn in an orchestra in Finland and sometimes tooted the horn in the wrong spot because I couldn't count in Finnish fast enough).

The gym seems to be the only place in Ukhta that sells Indian spices. At least that's what my friends tell me--and they are much more experienced with shopping for food around here. I've been checking grocery stores for more spices without too much luck. Does this mean that there is a higher demand for spicy foods among athletic people in Ukhta than among nonathletic people in Ukhta?

Integration

Last Tuesday, high school students came from all over Komi Republic (and from Labytnangi, as well) to present research projects at a conference called Integration. The conference was held at the local Technical Lyceum. Every Wednesday, I lead some classes and an English Club for high school students at this lyceum. Being a familiar face at the school, I was asked to judge the student presentations in the International Language section of this conference.

We listened to 14 presentations, only three which were not in English but Russian. Topics included: ghosts-believers in England, the history of the American dollar bill and how video games can help Russian youth learn English. I was fairly impressed by the students' language skills and the extent of some of their research. One girl, knowing she wanted to participate in this conference last summer, interviewed people during a trip to England in August.

I was also impressed by the awards ceremony at the end of the event. Everything--the MCs, dances, songs, short films--was very well choreographed and in a beautiful hall that I had never seen before in the university. (I'm always surprised by what the university holds). As the one native English speaker around, I almost had to act as Queen Elizabeth during the ceremony (right after the actor Karl Marx), but was let off the hook when another teacher wore an ornate dress. I presented the International Language awards, instead.

English Club

Our first meeting

So far, I have held eight English Club meetings for students at the Ukhta State Technical University. For each meeting, I pick a topic and we go from there. Sometimes I bring props, sometimes clips of movies or radio programs, sometimes fun handouts that I find on the internet or in the various English-as-a-foreign-language books I schlepped along with me in my luggage. So far, so good. My audience has dwindled a little from the first few weeks of about 20-30 English-enthusiasts, but I've still had a steady flow of 8-10 people. And, it's actually not accurate to call the students who come to the English club an audience. Really, I try to be in the audience for a good part of the club. I try to get the students to talk. Of course, it doesn't always work out that way, but I try.

The last three English clubs have been particularly memorable. First: the Turkey Club. Despite my Thanksgiving dinner cooking dilemmas I wrote about in my last blog entry, Thanksgiving with the English Club went wonderfully. On Thursday--Thanksgiving Day--I was a little sick. I taught a few classes in the morning, but by midday just wanted to crash. A teacher could tell I wasn't feeling too well and asked about English Club: What would I do? Would I still have English Club and prepare food for Thanksgiving? What? I was going to prepare the food and carry it across town myself! That wouldn't do! I told her that it would be fine. But, as soon as I left for home, she must have called some of her students, because next thing I knew, two girls from class were trying to locate me. Well, they aren't just girls from class--Kristina and Nastya are good friends. They just happen to be in one of the weekly classes that I teach. Bearing loads of potatoes, they found me. Together we managed to make mashed potatoes in the nick of time. I gathered the other foods I had prepared (right along with the Pilgrim, Indian and turkey hats) and we called a taxi to bring us across town. Only four minutes late to club, we placed the hot food on the table! We ate, chatted and laughed. I asked the club to put on an impromptu play using the hats. The students preformed wonderfully: a strange plot involving a turkey in a Russian McDonalds.

Memorable club number two--the theme: superheroes. Last week, a few new students came to the club, so I decided to start off with a name game. Say an adjective that starts with the first letter of your name and then your name. Mine was easy: Super Sara. (I mean, it went well with the topic, right?) We went around the room with a couple funny adjective suggestions (it can get hard with many names starting with K and O or Y). We only let one noun slide: Cucumber Ksenia. The names stuck till this week. Next, I asked the students an important question: if you could choose flight OR invisibility, and you are the only person in the world who could have this power, which would you pick? (I got this idea from an episode of This American Life last summer--the first segment of "Superpowers" is great. ) This led to a great discussion of powers and capes.

Memorable club number three: funny laws. I found lists of outdated or just funny laws around the world, both in English and Russian. I gave the students the Russian lists and asked them to translate any ones that they liked. We laughed quite a bit. Did you know that in France, it is illegal to call a pig Napoleon? (That one came from: http://business.timesonline.co.uk/tol/business/law/article2251280.ece)

Halloween with the English Club

Getting the thanks ready for English club

Tomorrow's Thanksgiving, and I've been thinking about it constantly. What can I make here that I can share with my English clubs? What decorations? What food? What activities? But, the question isn't only what can I prepare--it's how. I have thought about the possibilities of presenting a turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, pies, cranberry sauce--just about anything--to the clubs. But, I've run into difficulties with ingredients, my own time, my lack of an oven and lots of equipment for cooking and the fact that I don't have many hands to get everything to the clubs, warm and on time. I could have solved this with more planning, but unfortunately, I didn't ask for much help. So, it's the night before Thanksgiving, and I'm trying to be creative in the kitchen. First, I decided to make some cornbread in the fifth floor oven.  One cornbread down (shaped like a flower, because I borrowed my friend's flower oven-safe pan), and one more to go. It's funny running up five flights of stairs every time I check the oven, but I'm thankful that I am allowed to use it. The fifth floor is a special floor, with a special guard at the entrance. I don't know what sets the students living on that floor apart, but I know I'm allowed in because I am the American who is living in the building for the year. They let me wash my clothes in their washer and, as I found out today, use their oven. It's very kind. The rest of the people living in the dorm do not have such luxuries.

(Side note about the dormitories: At our university, the curfew for the dorms is 11pm. This means that if you are out later than 11, you must notify a guard beforehand. If you don't notify a guard, and you come back late, you probably won't be allowed out the next night. I somehow don't fall under these rules, though, so I can ring the doorbell whenever I'd like and a guard will open the door. A guard is one of the several women who rotate shifts, constantly sitting in a room next to the entrance. One of these women always puts my hood up before I go out into the cold. Today she told me that it was -5 degrees Fahrenheit before I headed out for a half and hour walk across the city. Chilly.)

Next, I was hoping to make some pie. Unfortunately, I can't find all the pans I need, so I've decided to make just pumpkin pie filling. (Update: I just cooked the pumpkin, and it turns out that it's a spaghetti squash. Who knew?) Lastly, I'm making cranberry relish. I bought fresh cranberries from someone selling at a stand on the street. (There are regularly people selling berries on the street. Berries, potatoes and woolen clothing.) I understand that these dishes only represent a little bit of the Thanksgiving table and that they, alone, don't really go together. I'm excited to share them, nonetheless. English club's on Thursday at 5. Hope you can make it.

Well, the snow didn't stick

People have been telling me that we are having abnormally warm weather in Ukhta. When you hear "warm," though, don't thinks that it's that warm. Since I arrived in late September, the temperature has been pretty constant, hovering around freezing. Rarely, it's been 40 degrees (Fahrenheit, that is). Rarely, it's been 20 degrees. Regularly, it's been 32. It seems to me that almost everyday there is some sort of precipitation falling from that sky. I say "some sort of precipitation" not only because it changes frequently, but also because I don't really know what to call it. Sometimes it's clear: rain. Sometimes I think it's rain, but it's definitely some sort of slush. Sometimes  I step outside, see it's raining and run back inside to get an umbrella. But then, umbrella in tow, I step outside and I see that now, in fact, it's snowing. Hmm, interesting.

Last week, snow was on the ground for a few days. The streets were lighter. The streets looked cleaner. The birch trees were more camouflaged. The air felt fresher. The sidewalks were slippery. In fact, the sidewalks were very slippery. I'm amazed that I haven't seen more falls (I've only seen 2) because every sixth step or so, pedestrians seemed to take a long and not-always-elegant skate on the ice. Personally, I love snow. I love the crunching sound when it's not too wet out and I love that everything gets white (and light). And, right now, light is very important to me. It starts to get light around seven in the morning and it's dark again by three in the afternoon. And, in general, the clouds don't like opening up to the sun, so it stays pretty gloomy. This is why I welcome snow. It brightens the place up.

That being said, I try to take advantage of the brighter part of the day. I go for long walks when I can. These walks can be nice when it's dark out, too, but I try to get my fill of vitamin D by going when there's light. When I'm lucky on these long walks, friends take me to places I haven't seen yet. Ukhta is really not that big. That's why people laugh when I tell them that I got lost once. But, there are a bunch of streets that I have not roamed down yet. Once, I went for a four hour walk through town and out into the nearby woods and fields. Out there, my friend Vika showed me a natural spring where some people get there drinking water. While we walked happily through lots of mud of huge puddles that were on the road next to Ukhta River (happily because we both wore big rubber boots), we even spotted the town's token camel grazing in a field. This camel was given to the town as a present some years ago. I'm not quite sure why, yet. Below is a picture of the camel in his usual hangout spot: Komsomolskaya Square.

On that note, 'til next time! 

Thanks for reading,

Sara

The last two weeks of lessons

Where to start? In the 14 days since I wrote my last post, I taught 22 classes (an hour and twenty minutes each), held two English clubs and a Halloween party, went on many long walks around town (getting lost only once) and sat through a few important meetings that will help to determine some of my activities this year in Ukhta.

So, first: classes. I am based out of the international language department at Ukhta's university. In the teacher's room, the language teachers (all female) speak to me in English and Russia. And, sometimes in French. Unfortunately, I'm usually limited to greetings with the francophones. German is also taught at the university. It's in this teacher's room that I try to design my schedules for the coming weeks. First, I sit and hope teachers will invite me to their classes. Then, if I'm running low on scheduled groups, I seek out the teachers. Whose class can I come to? What are the students' English proficiency level? What topic do you want me to teach? When and where do I need to be?  With this method, I've been able to pretty much fill my weeks.

The teachers have all been very kind and inviting. Some come to me excited about certain topics of discussion. My repertoire includes: American versus British English (a topic that has been popular every week); opportunities to get jobs in America;  me, my life and my family; university life and American education; youth problems in America; free time. Today, prompted by student interest, I gave a whole lesson on names of American towns. They students thought the Los Angeles might mean Lost Angels, and that name Detroit might come from the verb "to destroy." Nope. As of yesterday, I am well versed in the name history of Los Angeles, Hollywood, Las Vegas, Chicago, Detroit, New York and Horseheads. It was actually a great lesson, for me and the students, in realizing how many names in the United States are adopted from other languages: French, Spanish, Native American languages. Each lesson that I give is sprinkled with new vocabulary for students, but rarely do I give full out grammar lessons. Today was a great exception, though. I gave a whole lesson on command forms. Positive, negative, impersonal, polite...everything. I was so happy to test my grammar-teaching skills, and so happy to do it with this group of students in their 2nd year of Public Relations. I've been to their class several times, met with some students outside of class and have now etched out a time-slot every Tuesday to teach them an interactive grammar lesson. Sweet! Who ever thought I'd be so excited about grammar. As my schedule develops and I start finding more classes like this that I can teach consistently, I will be able to focus more on practicing certain grammar and vocabulary skills with students. But for now, I'm the king of practicing general conversation skills. I often say, "Don't be scared to talk to me. I just want you to feel comfortable talking. It's okay if you make mistakes. I also make many mistakes when I speak Russian." Sometimes, I prove this by speaking a little bit of Russian in class.

Classes can sometimes be great, and can sometimes be difficult. Partly, I think this is because I don't know what to expect with each new class: the size, the language ability, the interest. But, with each variant, I'm slowly learning how to get more and more students to interact with me. It's when they interact that I feel good.

Pictures from the first day the snow stuck

The sun was shining, and I took a long walk. I hadn't realized that the clocks turned back an hour, so I had an extra hour to my morning to roam around. 

 Взрослий Парк (Adult Park). I walk through this park every day on my way
to the International Office.

Детский Парк (Children's Park)

Three dear looking out on Ukhta River.

Pushkin's statue and Building E, where the international office is located. 

Lenin.

Some garages in town.

A bridge in Adult Park. Its a tradition for couples put locks on bridges when they get married. 

It's what's for dinner

Living alone, I cook for myself every day. Fortunately, I have a kitchen right down the hall from my apartment. I share it with other people who live in this section of dormitory number 4--the "hotel" section which is reserved for guests of the university--but, in general, we don't fight over who reigns in the kitchen at any particular hour. Now, this kitchen did come stocked with one pot and one pan, some cutting boards and a spatula. But, I decided to get a few things for myself. I felt good about shopping around for some sturdy domestic ware that will last me the year. Every night, with items piled high in my arms so that I make the fewest trips, I walk to the kitchen with ingredients, cookware and some sort of plan.

Tonight, I had two plans. So, I made two trips and ate two dinners.

First, I wanted to use the cloudberries that a friend gave me last week. Cloudberries look like orange blackberries and grow in the north. They have a nice delicate flavor that I can't really describe. Yesterday I bought a delicious loaf of white bread from the store (I think it might be made of barley) as a break from the hearty black bread that it seems most everyone eats. So, french toast it was--with loads of a strawberry homemade jam that was another Russia-warming gift and cloudberries sprinkled on top. De-licious.

Second, I wanted to eat some greens. Greens have been a little bit hard for me to find. But, yesterday I found a package of frozen spinach, and the day before, frozen broccoli. I made a dish with spinach and added kidney beans. Canned beans, although not very difficult to come across in grocery stores, are fairly expensive and, I think, not often used. I've been using them, though. I've made sure to buy the cans with a pry-open top (I still can't figure out how to use the can openers here, let alone do I know if the tool I'm thinking of is, actually, a can opener). So, with my spinach and bean dish made, I pulled out my bag of potatoes. When in a grocery store, potatoes and carrots can be pretty similar looking. They are covered in dirt, so much that it can be hard to see the carrot's orange color. I'm not quite sure why they are still covered in dirt, but I guess that this practice keeps the weight (and thus price) up a fraction, and, hey, maybe it makes the consumer feel a little closer to the agricultural process when they can still see the dirt (defetishizing the commodity, anyone?).

My second dish was a baked potato, covered with those beans and spinach and topped with that chanterelle cheese I was so ecstatic about earlier. This, too, was delicious.

One more thing about shopping for food or other items. Some stores are set up exactly like I am used to: you walk in, shop around and then go to a cash register, items in hand, on your way out. Others, however, add a step: you might need to lock up the bags you've been carrying around in free lockers before walking through the metal gate that lets you into the store. Others, still, don't let you touch any items, but instead have you look at what you want through glass or over a counter and then order from a cashier. For me, the most confusing of this kind of store has the following system. First, you have to find everything that you want. Then, you add up your total cost, go to another counter where you pay a cashier, and then go back and give your receipt to the person standing behind the first counter. This person will then give you your items. This system took me a little while to get used to.

Somehow, I've managed to get all the items I need for dinner, though.

For those of you learning Russian

A few tips:

1. When people say щас (shas), they are not saying час (chas, meaning hour), but сейчас (sei-chas, meaning now). They're sckrunching the word into one syllable. Don't let this confuse you.

2. Штука means thingy or thingamajig or doohickey. I actually learned this this past week, while teaching a class about the differences between American and British English. Among my many examples of different vocabulary used in the US and in the UK, I taught the words thingy, thingamijig (US) and wotsit (UK). The students translated it into Russian for me. Perfect timing: in a conversation last night, I think someone used штука almost every tenth word.

3. If your professors of Russian language gave you a good chart to learn the Russian verbs of motion, hold on to that chart forever. Memorize it. I brought my worksheets with me from my freshman year of college. I still don't have them memorized, but it sure feels good to have a handy guide to look at when I go home. Also, be okay with the fact that people will probably laugh at you when you say things like "I arrived in Ukhta last week" and you by mistake used the wrong root verb, meaning that you arrived by foot. When that happens, just fix your mistake or ensure them that, yes, indeed, you traveled from the US to a northern town in Russia, walking the whole way.

Chanterelles--a quick salute

Dear Finland, thank you for selling your dairy products internationally. A few moments ago, I searched through a grocery store in northern Russia both hungry and curious. This dangerous combination of desires led me to the dairy section of the store, where I happened upon Valio spreadable cheese next to the saran wrapped kind from Russia. Upon first glance, this product was of some comfort, just out of brand familiarity. It's not too common that I know of other brands of dairy products so far from my home in the US. Looking further, I realized that the cheese was mixed with my favorite mushroom. For those of you who may know, I love chanterelle mushrooms (лисичка, kanterelli--for those who may be curious). They are orange and delicious, and in America, few and far between. Any chance I get, if they aren't way too pricey or totally bruised, I'll purchase them. Better yet, I'll find them in the woods, where I first fell in love with these mushrooms. (I'd pick with help of local experts of course--I'm not ready to pick mushrooms myself).

Next to the peach juice, kefir, tomatoes, sweet crackers that are called Jubilee and a whole bunch of cloudberries that my friend picked and jarred, this cheese spread has found a nice home in my mini fridge.

Children

Yesterday, I stood in front of a room full of 3rd grade ten-year-olds.

A woman I met at the visa registration office in town was excited to hear that I am in Ukhta to teach English. So, she invited me to her daughter's English class. I waited in the hallway for the class to begin and heard the bell ring. A bunch of students with red bands around their arms (designated cleaners for the day) ran into the hallway where I stood and immediately began scraping their feet against the floor. They were removing black marks! What an interesting duty. When class started, I walked in and all the students stood and said, together, "Hell-o Sa-ra and Na-dej-da." The room was full, one boy and one girl sitting at each double desk. They were so excited. For some reason, all the adults in the room left for a few minutes and I was left sitting in this small chair in front of all the students. They piled together and came up to me to check me out and start to practice their English skills. "What is your favorite color?" "How are you?" I answered in English and they'd revert back to Russian. 

After I found out that a few students also loved green, the teacher and Nadya came back in and we started class. I was there to answer questions, and these questions never ran out. They started with "Do you have a mother and a father and sisters and brothers?" but then escalated to "What kind of rivers do you have near your town?" "What type of tourist attractions are there in your area?" "Have you ever seen the building that looks like a big ATM machine?" Every time the girl in the front row asked a question, she stood. She, the leader of the class, is the starosta (старoста). She's a top-noch student who is responsible for carrying the grade book from teacher to teacher. (And, don't think she has special privileges to seeing those grades in the book. Anybody can go check them out.) Groups of students in Russia stay with each other all day, every day, for as long as the students are in the same school system. Even the university-level students go to each class with each other. So, Louisa, this starosta, will probably be the leader of all the students in this class for a while. I've heard that at an older age, the starosta is responsible for making sure all the students know where classes are and if they've been cancelled due to a holiday or something else. I hope they let me know, too.

Nadya decided to ask the students about their hobbies half way through class, so that I could learn about them. Number one hobby: swimming (despite the affects cold weather can have on a wet body, there is a good sized pool in town). Number two: English lessons outside of school proper. Number three: modern origami. Way to go, students! They don't let any activity slip by them. 

At the end of class, Louisa stood up on last time and gave me a very big thank you from the whole class. She also presented me with a Chukcha (Чукчa) doll and magnet (the picture of the doll is at the top of the post). The Chukchi (Чукчи) are a group of people who live in the very north of Russia (I'm not sure exactly where). I guess this doll is a symbol of the Komi Republic. Next, a girl in the back row stood up and wished me the best of luck for the year, both in my language learning and my teaching. (Remember, these students are just 10 years old.) Everyone then pulled out their fancy camera phones and took pictures of me. A boy came up to me and handed me this drawing to the right. Both flags, represent. He understands.

I think I might be going to more elementary schools.  

My first day at school

Today was my first day of teaching. A young teacher who is still invested in her own studies in another city is taking leave for the next month. So, I am taking over her classes. Well, some of her classes. So far I've scheduled only 2 per week for one hour and twenty minutes each. Not too much. These classes are in Ukhta's State Technical University (USTU), my host institution. As of now, I'm teaching first year public relations students simple grammar. Basically, I just want to warm them up to speaking English. There are ten in the class, so it's a pretty comfortable size. Today we talked about families (I have two parents. My father is older than my mother, etc.) where we're from, and I asked them about Ukhta, hoping they'd give me some good hints about hot spots around town. It's clear they like clubs and cafes. After an hour, they seemed a little more comfortable with chit-chat, despite their requests in the first hour that I translate for them. As we exited to the entrance hall of the school building (where everyone picks up their jackets from the coat-checks) a few of the students waved to me. I think that's a good sign.

What do I do with the rest of my time? Well, this week I've been exploring, mainly with the help of some friends that I found. Rather, they found me. I know, so fast. Right? Last weekend, my first in Russia, I spent most of my time in the forest. On Saturday, Valeria, who heads the international department at USTU, took me along with her husband, her 5-year-old son, two other couples and their sons to the forest to relax and eat sausages. Delicious really, but, man, is my stomach in transition mode from vegetarian to meat-eater. We made a fire that lasted for hours while with sat with tons of very thin, stick-strait pine trees surrounding us and the boys running around. On Sunday, I was with ringleader Marina and friends I met through her: Vova (nickname for Vladimir), Marianna and Ilya. We went to a mountain bike competition in the hills right outside Ukhta. The picture at the top of my blog is the view from the top. The bikers raced over jumps made of birch branches nailed together. Wooo, scared me. To escape the cold (yes, that day it was hovering on freezing) we picnicked with tea and open-faced sandwiches in the back of their "extreme" car: a purple 1994 Lada named Sparrow. The car sat not too far from a huge abstract portrait of Lenin on the hillside.

Since then, Marina has walked with me arm in arm around much of the town, explaining buildings and taking me through doors that I would not have known were entrances to shops or grocery stores. Today she carried a Russian-English dictionary with her so that we'd both have one to reference. (She speaks only a little English, but likes languages, German especially). I think we understand each other fairly well.

In the weeks to come I'm guessing that the English department at USTU will ask me to give presentations about my life and life in America. Maybe I'll get a few more classes and start up English clubs. I'll have to see how everything rolls out. For now, I'm getting ready for a 3 day bounce into Moscow for an orientation. Back to the big city.