Blueberry was originally named after the obnoxious girl from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory who turns into a blueberry and floats away. Blueberry, I take it all back, you're a lovely person and your namesake is delicious and versatile.
Blueberry arrived in June, after quitting her job at an English law firm and spending a month at a teacher-training program in Prague (the same as mine in Krakow). She's unguardedly nice and normal, which makes her a bit of an expat anomaly. The lack of mental baggage that sets her apart from a lot of expats (and enables her to relate pleasantly to all of them), I think, makes her immune to Moscow's pull. The city's cold and dirty, the people are unfriendly, everything's expensive, and she misses her boyfriend. She doesn't need the bright lights and distractions, the attention people give Westerners, or the ready-made (versus self-created) interestingness of life. She'll probably go home for good at Christmas (so will I, unless a newspaper can give me enough financial and visa support that I can cut ties with the language school).
She's much less forgiving of the Western male shenanigans than I am. (Maybe it's because she's been involved with Aubergine, who seems much less a victim-of-circumstance than Artichoke.) Last week, we were standing on a chilly balcony outside a house party where Aubergine was DJing. She was having a cigarette and I was wrapped in a Tibetan shawl trying to stay warm. We were idly looking through the plate-glass window, back in on the party inside, at American guy who I had been on a couple dates with the week before making out with an utterly wasted British girl (let's call her Orange...lay off the self-tanner, honey. Rawr!)
Hmm, that's a shame, I thought, but no hard feelings because nothing between us had really progressed and I wasn't convinced I was into him anyway. Blueberry went a bit through the roof and thought he was being really rude to me. I didn't feel slighted, I just felt like I had got a useful piece of information about his personality.
We started talking more generally about the expat guys here, and I told her I felt kind of bad for the ones who need what Moscow offers and who for some reason feel like they can't go home. Blueberry, on the other hand, has zero sympathy and says they made their bed, they can fucking lie in it.
I took a cab home soon after that (something I don't like to do by myself, but I didn't want to wait until the metro opened at 5:30).
Epilogue 1: The convoluted soap opera. Orange, Blueberry, the aforementioned American guy, and a few others went back to Aubergine's soon after I went home. As things were winding down (Blueberry reports), Orange was all over Aubergine, who shed her long enough to tell Blueberry he'd get rid of Orange if she stayed. Not surprisingly, Blueberry (who's slept with him before) just shook her head, snapped something, and left him with Orange. (Blueberry and Orange have both kept it quiet--thanks to Starfruit, it's me the rumor mill associates with Aubergine, as I was surprised to learn when I got back from Tibet. If you're having trouble following all this, so am I.)
Epilogue 2: The American guy who I had been out with then had seen snog (great British word) Orange left yesterday morning. He gave me a weirdly rib-crushing hug, cheerfully said he'd see me in hell, and that was that.
Epilogue 3: This morning we had a "Welcome to [Language School]" meeting for all first-year teachers, meaning everybody but Pineapple, Artichoke, and the administration. It was basically Aubergine at the whiteboard with a marker presenting stuff that anyone with half a brain figured out after the first two weeks of teaching (What levels do we teach? What books do we use? What do we write on the attendance sheets?), then telling us how lucky we were to have mandatory unpaid professional-development workshops for a profession most of us are leaving in a few months anyway. While I sat there and doodled on my newspaper that I would have felt a bit too cheeky to read, and hoped they would end it soon, Blueberry was humorously but pointedly calling Aubergine and Pear on the bullshitness of it all. She used to work for an employment-law firm, and really knows the ins and outs of how (British) companies should treat their employees.
It reminded me of the balcony episode. I say fine, expat boys, pull that shit, just don't expect me to date you as far as I can throw you; fine, Language School, pull that shit, just don't expect me to pass up the first opportunity to jump ship. Blueberry says wait, this isn't okay. I withdraw from situations and selfishly cling to the freedom of my thoughts, while Blueberry takes a stand and enters the mix. I admire her confidence and faith in her ideas, and I wonder if it can be earned without sacrificing depth of observation of different points of view.
Also, I've dumped Artichoke for her as my laundry date.
Friday, September 21, 2007
Last night Ира and I were sitting on a bench in Pushkin Square, talking and drinking a cans of fruity god-knows-what from the kiosk. A few benches away there was a severely drugged-up teenager staring intently at us, speaking at a mile a minute, and fidgeting with a decent-sized paintbrush. Ира finally got irritated and asked him what the hell he wanted. He was painting my psychological portrait. It's a picture of a baby Siamese cat. (?)
Sunday, September 16, 2007
I keep meaning to tell you about Blueberry, but I just spent the last two hours writing an email to the editor I met last week, so I'm going to be lazy and cut and paste that instead. It's a brainstormed list of article ideas. If you were about to move to Moscow, what would you care about?
Dear [Mr. Ed],
I hope you had a good weekend. I've brainstormed some article ideas, both expat- and science-oriented. Please tell me if any sound promising.
Expats:
-a guide to kiosks. What's good to eat? Who frequents them? What's the etiquette involved? What on earth is "Hooch"?
-markets. Where does the food come from? Who runs the stalls? If they're not Russian, is their job threatened by new immigration regulations?
-Who, among Muscovites, are learning English and why?
-If you live in a block of flats, odds are you've heard drilling and hammering at all hours as your neighbors remont their flat. What's the philosophy behind all the home repairs? How/why do people do it? Where do they get the supplies? Are trends changing as capitalism and prosperity set in?
-Starbucks is opening soon. What made them decide to enter the coffee market here? Could coffee-to-go culture take root in Moscow? (My students are always amused when my bright green travel mug shows up on my desk).
-I read that there's a guided tour starting near Patriarch's Pond at midnight on weekends, all about the Master and Margarita. I'm almost finished reading the book, and am curious about the tour.
-I miss peanut butter, maple syrup, brown sugar, brownie mix...where, if anywhere, are these things to be found? What do they cost? What are acceptable substitutes?
-A Russian expat and Moscow State University alum taught a class at my college called "Communism and its Aftermath." She spent some time back in Moscow recently, with her American husband and newborn daughter. What's her perspective on how the city's changed? What does she miss about Russia? What's life like on the flipside of expat-hood?
Science ideas:
-Russia's Druzhba oil pipeline is the longest in the world. It stretches from eastern Russia through much of Europe and the Middle East. Recently, it has been at the center of Russia and Belarus' energy disputes. What is the daily operation of the pipeline like? What were the challenges of constructing the segments that run through the permafrost of Siberia? How much maintainance does it require? Where exactly does the oil come from?
-The International Science and Technology Center, located near Novoslobodskaya, gives grants to ex-Soviet weapons scientists so they can pursue other areas of science and not be involved in further weapons development. What is the daily work of this organization like? Where does their budget come from, and where does it go? What changes have they seen over the past decade?
-The New York Times magazine recently ran an article that questioned how drugs are approved in the States, and how medical advice is decided upon and propagated. The article looked at the practice of clinical trials, and the role of the media and drug companies in influencing peoples' medical decisions. What is pharmaceutical development like in Russia? What sort of review process do drugs undergo before they go on the market? What government office is in charge of it, and what are the regulations involved? Are knock-offs of name brand drugs a big problem? How aggressively are prescription drugs advertised?
-In the States, a lot of published scientific research comes out of universities. In Russia, as far as I know, the Academy of Sciences is much more influential and prolific. What does this mean for how science is conducted? Does it help or hinder collaboration between scientists? How do people rise through the ranks? What does it mean for student involvement in major research? What important results has it produced recently? What's the internal organization like? Is the system working well? Is it changing?
-The zoo. What does it do to get ready for winter? How have recent warm winters affected it? What's in store for the future? Who plans the exhibits, and which are the most interesting?
-What's the deal with the space capsule at VDHKh? How did it get there? What's its history? Who upkeeps it?
-Stroll through a fruit and veggie market and you'll see shiny green apples from Chile next to their smaller, spottier local counterparts. How much market produce is locally grown, and how much is imported? From where? What are agricultural operations like outside of Moscow? Also, there's a dairy farm a couple hours south of Moscow that sounds kind of interesting (it's run by a German-Canadian guy who's registered on the website where I found all the farms I worked on in Europe).
-Russia is filthy-rich with oil and gas reserves. Geologically speaking, how did it get that way?
-Russia recently resumed sending planes to patrol its borders and nearby oceans, and the US government was quick to dismiss the aircraft as outdated. What sort of technology do the planes use? How much has the technology developed since the planes were built?
I know the head of the US Embassy's Environment, Science, and Technology Department and I'm hoping to see him again soon to talk about possible ideas and contacts.
Thank you for going through these, and I look forward to hearing from you.
Best,
[that girl who's STILL hoping someone gives her a pen name]
Dear [Mr. Ed],
I hope you had a good weekend. I've brainstormed some article ideas, both expat- and science-oriented. Please tell me if any sound promising.
Expats:
-a guide to kiosks. What's good to eat? Who frequents them? What's the etiquette involved? What on earth is "Hooch"?
-markets. Where does the food come from? Who runs the stalls? If they're not Russian, is their job threatened by new immigration regulations?
-Who, among Muscovites, are learning English and why?
-If you live in a block of flats, odds are you've heard drilling and hammering at all hours as your neighbors remont their flat. What's the philosophy behind all the home repairs? How/why do people do it? Where do they get the supplies? Are trends changing as capitalism and prosperity set in?
-Starbucks is opening soon. What made them decide to enter the coffee market here? Could coffee-to-go culture take root in Moscow? (My students are always amused when my bright green travel mug shows up on my desk).
-I read that there's a guided tour starting near Patriarch's Pond at midnight on weekends, all about the Master and Margarita. I'm almost finished reading the book, and am curious about the tour.
-I miss peanut butter, maple syrup, brown sugar, brownie mix...where, if anywhere, are these things to be found? What do they cost? What are acceptable substitutes?
-A Russian expat and Moscow State University alum taught a class at my college called "Communism and its Aftermath." She spent some time back in Moscow recently, with her American husband and newborn daughter. What's her perspective on how the city's changed? What does she miss about Russia? What's life like on the flipside of expat-hood?
Science ideas:
-Russia's Druzhba oil pipeline is the longest in the world. It stretches from eastern Russia through much of Europe and the Middle East. Recently, it has been at the center of Russia and Belarus' energy disputes. What is the daily operation of the pipeline like? What were the challenges of constructing the segments that run through the permafrost of Siberia? How much maintainance does it require? Where exactly does the oil come from?
-The International Science and Technology Center, located near Novoslobodskaya, gives grants to ex-Soviet weapons scientists so they can pursue other areas of science and not be involved in further weapons development. What is the daily work of this organization like? Where does their budget come from, and where does it go? What changes have they seen over the past decade?
-The New York Times magazine recently ran an article that questioned how drugs are approved in the States, and how medical advice is decided upon and propagated. The article looked at the practice of clinical trials, and the role of the media and drug companies in influencing peoples' medical decisions. What is pharmaceutical development like in Russia? What sort of review process do drugs undergo before they go on the market? What government office is in charge of it, and what are the regulations involved? Are knock-offs of name brand drugs a big problem? How aggressively are prescription drugs advertised?
-In the States, a lot of published scientific research comes out of universities. In Russia, as far as I know, the Academy of Sciences is much more influential and prolific. What does this mean for how science is conducted? Does it help or hinder collaboration between scientists? How do people rise through the ranks? What does it mean for student involvement in major research? What important results has it produced recently? What's the internal organization like? Is the system working well? Is it changing?
-The zoo. What does it do to get ready for winter? How have recent warm winters affected it? What's in store for the future? Who plans the exhibits, and which are the most interesting?
-What's the deal with the space capsule at VDHKh? How did it get there? What's its history? Who upkeeps it?
-Stroll through a fruit and veggie market and you'll see shiny green apples from Chile next to their smaller, spottier local counterparts. How much market produce is locally grown, and how much is imported? From where? What are agricultural operations like outside of Moscow? Also, there's a dairy farm a couple hours south of Moscow that sounds kind of interesting (it's run by a German-Canadian guy who's registered on the website where I found all the farms I worked on in Europe).
-Russia is filthy-rich with oil and gas reserves. Geologically speaking, how did it get that way?
-Russia recently resumed sending planes to patrol its borders and nearby oceans, and the US government was quick to dismiss the aircraft as outdated. What sort of technology do the planes use? How much has the technology developed since the planes were built?
I know the head of the US Embassy's Environment, Science, and Technology Department and I'm hoping to see him again soon to talk about possible ideas and contacts.
Thank you for going through these, and I look forward to hearing from you.
Best,
[that girl who's STILL hoping someone gives her a pen name]
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Belly-dancing class is getting crowded. All summer only three or four of us showed up regularly, now there are eight or ten. (The city in general starts up again come September--people come back from their dachas, kids go back to school, offices resume full-time hours, the language school fills up.)
Of the women who show up for class, I think the instructor and I are the youngest by 10 years. There are a few pairs of middle-aged women--my favorites are the two who crack each other up singing Shakira songs. It's a really friendly, laid-back bunch. I'm sort of surprised that it doesn't attract more supermodel dyevushkas (one girl with perfect hair, black leg-warmers, and impossible breasts came a few months ago and gave herself bedroom eyes in the floor-to-ceiling mirror the whole time, but she was definitely the exception).
The instructor's really good at reading who shows up that day, whether they've been coming for a while or it's their first time, and tweaking the lesson accordingly. (I'm pretty sure she just wings it every day, which makes me sort of jealous in terms of my own teaching). Every class, she goes over all the basics, spending more or less time depending on who's there, and throws in some new stuff towards the end. I'm getting to the point where I'm decent at a lot of the individual moves, but I wish I could put them together into a few minutes of something coherent.
It's a lot of fun, and I wish I had discovered it while I was still really running. All the tightness in my hips that was giving me fits through college cross-country has dissipated, plus it's a hell of an ab workout. When I don't feel like going for a run, sometimes I shut the door to my room and practice to ABBA.
Of the women who show up for class, I think the instructor and I are the youngest by 10 years. There are a few pairs of middle-aged women--my favorites are the two who crack each other up singing Shakira songs. It's a really friendly, laid-back bunch. I'm sort of surprised that it doesn't attract more supermodel dyevushkas (one girl with perfect hair, black leg-warmers, and impossible breasts came a few months ago and gave herself bedroom eyes in the floor-to-ceiling mirror the whole time, but she was definitely the exception).
The instructor's really good at reading who shows up that day, whether they've been coming for a while or it's their first time, and tweaking the lesson accordingly. (I'm pretty sure she just wings it every day, which makes me sort of jealous in terms of my own teaching). Every class, she goes over all the basics, spending more or less time depending on who's there, and throws in some new stuff towards the end. I'm getting to the point where I'm decent at a lot of the individual moves, but I wish I could put them together into a few minutes of something coherent.
It's a lot of fun, and I wish I had discovered it while I was still really running. All the tightness in my hips that was giving me fits through college cross-country has dissipated, plus it's a hell of an ab workout. When I don't feel like going for a run, sometimes I shut the door to my room and practice to ABBA.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
This morning I talked to the editor-in-chief of the weekly English newspaper. (I could never get hold of anyone but secretaries at the daily, plus I like the idea of longer, more thought-out weekly pieces instead of banging stuff out under daily deadlines.) I had agreed to call him at 11, so after waking up at 8:30 I went online and read all the back issues I had time for, drank too much coffee, watched youtube's Pat Benatar collection, paced around, picked up the phone and almost did that 7th-grade thing where you dial 6 numbers and hang up, and called him. He said he had time to talk to me that afternoon, and gave me directions on how to get to the office ("takethemetrotoПаркКультурыtaketheleftmostexitgoundertheпереходtakealeft"...I could've sworn he was testing my ability to take rapid-fire dictation).
I taught my noon class, then headed to the newspaper office. Over a cup of coffee, the editor told me he liked my clips and wanted to hire me part-time. Their budget is maxed out for September, so anything I write in the next few weeks will have to be freelance and paid retroactively. He just got this job a few weeks ago himself, and is still struggling with the larger news organiation about budgetary stuff and nationality quotas of employees (apparently you can only have so many Americans). He invited me to their next staff meeting and said he'd keep me posted on possible assignments and hopefully, once the new budget is in place, a staff position. My best-case scenario was that I'd give my notice at the language school today, but still I'm thrilled to have my foot in the door.
In honor of my new combo of location, occupation, nationality, and historical moment, I think I'm going to cleanse my blog of proper nouns. Or at least eggregiously misspell them so I don't have to worry about overzealous Googlers (J, your unfortunate experience with Congressman Constipation is definitely influencing my thinking).
I'm getting rid of my first name, so do any of you, dear readers (assuming I can still use the plural), have a name for me? You can follow suit and name me a fruit. Also, if I get familiar enough with the newspaper staff I'm thinking of naming them after 80s rock stars (more interesting than electrical appliances, less insulting than insects, more plentiful than fast food chains.) So post a comment or email me. I won't ask for an explanation I promise. Also email me if you want a link to the newspaper, and any articles I end up writing for it.
On a different note, Stephen M (not sure if you're still doing humanitarian stuff in Mumbai or if you've moved on to the hedge fund), my strongest memory from 6 years ago today is of exchanging holy-shit glances with you when the principal came over the loudspeaker and interrupted Mr. Zeljo's Chinese History class to tell us about the two planes.
I taught my noon class, then headed to the newspaper office. Over a cup of coffee, the editor told me he liked my clips and wanted to hire me part-time. Their budget is maxed out for September, so anything I write in the next few weeks will have to be freelance and paid retroactively. He just got this job a few weeks ago himself, and is still struggling with the larger news organiation about budgetary stuff and nationality quotas of employees (apparently you can only have so many Americans). He invited me to their next staff meeting and said he'd keep me posted on possible assignments and hopefully, once the new budget is in place, a staff position. My best-case scenario was that I'd give my notice at the language school today, but still I'm thrilled to have my foot in the door.
In honor of my new combo of location, occupation, nationality, and historical moment, I think I'm going to cleanse my blog of proper nouns. Or at least eggregiously misspell them so I don't have to worry about overzealous Googlers (J, your unfortunate experience with Congressman Constipation is definitely influencing my thinking).
I'm getting rid of my first name, so do any of you, dear readers (assuming I can still use the plural), have a name for me? You can follow suit and name me a fruit. Also, if I get familiar enough with the newspaper staff I'm thinking of naming them after 80s rock stars (more interesting than electrical appliances, less insulting than insects, more plentiful than fast food chains.) So post a comment or email me. I won't ask for an explanation I promise. Also email me if you want a link to the newspaper, and any articles I end up writing for it.
On a different note, Stephen M (not sure if you're still doing humanitarian stuff in Mumbai or if you've moved on to the hedge fund), my strongest memory from 6 years ago today is of exchanging holy-shit glances with you when the principal came over the loudspeaker and interrupted Mr. Zeljo's Chinese History class to tell us about the two planes.
Sunday, September 9, 2007
Foods I would kill to have a constant supply of: real maple syrup, tofu, Tostitos, Newman's Own salsa, natural crunchy peanut butter, cheddar cheese, brown sugar, chocolate chips, Morningstar Farms vegetarian corn dogs.
Also I want to drive Mom's Prius down highway 81 from Virginia into Tennessee to visit Uncle Sandy up in the hills by Nashville, as the setting sun makes the sky all streaky and pink, with my bare left foot hanging out the window, singing along to my Greatest Hits of Journey CD even though it's scratched to hell and most likely lost by now. On the way I want to stop at Taco Bell. Moscow has its own brand of late-night neon fast-food depravity, but it's harsher and different.
And Rew, I know we haven't been in touch, but you should come too. And unlike that time in Canada, I'll believe you when you tell me we're on the right highway.
Also I want to drive Mom's Prius down highway 81 from Virginia into Tennessee to visit Uncle Sandy up in the hills by Nashville, as the setting sun makes the sky all streaky and pink, with my bare left foot hanging out the window, singing along to my Greatest Hits of Journey CD even though it's scratched to hell and most likely lost by now. On the way I want to stop at Taco Bell. Moscow has its own brand of late-night neon fast-food depravity, but it's harsher and different.
And Rew, I know we haven't been in touch, but you should come too. And unlike that time in Canada, I'll believe you when you tell me we're on the right highway.
Thursday, September 6, 2007
Today was my third day with Apricot's upper-intermediate class. She went back to Scotland a few weeks ago, so I have her class until they finish in December. The first time I taught it 8 people showed up, then four, today two. I hope it's stochasticity and not me.
Arthur and Helen and I had a good time though (Helen's real name is Elena, not sure about Arthur). When I teach big chunks of vocabulary all related to a similar theme (school, work, health, entertainment), the next lesson I put the students in pairs and give each pair a stack of cards with the words on them. One of them picks up a card, uses the word in a sentence, and the other one picks up the next card and continues the story. Last class we learned vocab about government, politics, and war.
Me: *draws 2 adjacent globs on the board* "So here's a map of two countries. This one is...Fakeistan. What should we call this one?"
Arthur: "Bullshitstan!!"
Me: "All right, Bullshitstan. The king of Fakeistan is...Arnold Schwarzenegger. Who's the king of Bullshitstan?"
Arthur: "George Bush."
Me: "Are you calling my country Bullshitstan??"
Arthur: "Are you calling California Fakeistan?"
Touche.
Under Helen and Arthur's watch, Bullshitstan invaded the civil-wartorn Fakeistan. After a brief occupation, Arnold advised his people to surrender due to Bullshitstan's superior arsenal, plus he was too busy bodybuilding to really give a shit. Although the land and infrastructure of Fakeistan was wholly incorporated into that of its militarily superior neighbor, Bush was kind enough to give Schwarzenegger an upper cabinet position and peace reigned once again.
Arthur and Helen and I had a good time though (Helen's real name is Elena, not sure about Arthur). When I teach big chunks of vocabulary all related to a similar theme (school, work, health, entertainment), the next lesson I put the students in pairs and give each pair a stack of cards with the words on them. One of them picks up a card, uses the word in a sentence, and the other one picks up the next card and continues the story. Last class we learned vocab about government, politics, and war.
Me: *draws 2 adjacent globs on the board* "So here's a map of two countries. This one is...Fakeistan. What should we call this one?"
Arthur: "Bullshitstan!!"
Me: "All right, Bullshitstan. The king of Fakeistan is...Arnold Schwarzenegger. Who's the king of Bullshitstan?"
Arthur: "George Bush."
Me: "Are you calling my country Bullshitstan??"
Arthur: "Are you calling California Fakeistan?"
Touche.
Under Helen and Arthur's watch, Bullshitstan invaded the civil-wartorn Fakeistan. After a brief occupation, Arnold advised his people to surrender due to Bullshitstan's superior arsenal, plus he was too busy bodybuilding to really give a shit. Although the land and infrastructure of Fakeistan was wholly incorporated into that of its militarily superior neighbor, Bush was kind enough to give Schwarzenegger an upper cabinet position and peace reigned once again.
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