Disputes and Rock Karaoke 6.9.13

Locks on the bridge for luuuuurve

 Me and Valentina had our first minor dispute today. She sleeps in the lounge and me and Clara have the 2 bedrooms. One of my friends said she’d feel bad to have her host sleep on the couch, but then again it is only for 16 weeks of the year until I leave and Clara is here by herself for summer. Plus we obviously pay so.... Anyways, obviously all of Valentina’s stuff is split between the bedrooms and because I tend to just go да да да all day long, I’m not entirely sure if she comes in my room to get her stuff when I’m gone because there are various garments and underwear strewn across the lounge. But today I come home to find she’s swapped over my suitcase and the chair and moved bags of my underwear and socks underneath the cupboard and when I came out the shower I was like “nooooo I’m living with an underwear thief.” Thanfully she doesn’t speak English and I can actually make such accusations without making anything too awks. Unfortunately this exclamation caught her attention because it was pretty darn loud, and she came in. I explained in my politest Russian that I don’t particularly like her coming in and moving my stuff. Obviously I don’t leave anything expensive out on display so it’s mostly just bits and bobs but obviously it’s annoying to not be able to find your underwear because she decided she doesn’t like where it’s placed. I was very nice about it and assured her it wasn’t important, but maybe it’s just a lack of communication because she came up to me after and told me I have a плохой характер so now I just feel bad that she thinks I accused her of being a thief or something. And to be honest all Russian words sound the same so I may very well have. We’ll have to see how this plays out and here’s hoping she doesn’t hate me.

Matryoshka in the street wooo

On to a lighter note, we had lunch in the uni canteen today. It’s our 5^th day of lectures and the only thing we’ve seen of the university is the one classroom we’re in for almost 3.5 hours every day. As much as sitting in a different seat next to someone different kind of mixes things up a bit, it doesn’t actually mix anything up so we decided to venture to the canteen. It’s much different to the IC or any of the uni cafes in Sheffield. It’s like at school where there’s big pots of food and you point to what you want and the Russki dinner ladies put it into a bowl for you. If you want meat you’re looking at £2/3 for a meal but it’s not like some crappy meal deal at Tesco; you’re looking at 3 bowls of actual food and a drink for that price. The food is like rice, potatos etc and then a fish or meat thing that actually looks really yummy and homemade. Me and Olivia being the vegetarians did the usual есть что-то без мяса and got the usual blank stares but we ended up with some vegetable and potato stew, she had rice and I had a cheesy pastry thing (potensh a croissant). Mine was about 80p and her’s was 60p which is ridic for what a proper meal it was. Deffo prefer it there to some cafe in town. Although I’m not sure there’s any form of wifi in the university. No-one seems to like to tell us anything.

Pancakes and cheese for breakfast, it's been promised all week!

We also found out that to work in a Russian university is basically a hobby. Our teacher earns £100 a month teaching us which is basically 4/5 times a week; plus he met us at St.Pete’s airport and took us the 5-6 hours to Petrozavodsk. He said he also teaches at 2 other schools where there’s proper money to be made. Bear in mind this is with 10 years of experience, plus he’s hilarious. All witty and full of sass. We only found this out when we asked if there was any paid English teaching available here because we obvs speak English and he, in essence, told us to back off because any good paid teaching work is his. Bet he just thinks of us as a threat! But he did say we can help him with his English conversation classes here “if you are interested” and he asked if we were at least 6/7 times and that was with pretty much all of us nodding furiously. But actually furiously. I think we’re getting to the point where we want some Russki friends

Yesterday I watched what I can only assume was the Russki version of Jeremy Kyle, called пусть говорять, which means Let’s Speak. And boy did these peeps need to speak. I have never in my life heard such tales of tragedy. The main feature was an interview with a little boy and they take him to this little hut in a forest where something terrible must’ve happened because he tells of how some guy told him and 5 of this friends that he was their father, then took them to this hut and they somehow died in this machine and only this boy survived. So this boy is there in this hut covered in blood and crying while some lady is interviewing him about what this man told him and I was just in shock. Valentina stood up and did her usual standing 1m away from the TV whilst pointing and then batting her hands in disgust as she hides in the kitchen to protect herself from the sheer horror of what was occuring, mumbling what I believe to be Russki obscenities. There’s a number of couples sitting there yelling and blaming eachother, social services come along donned in police uniform (or maybe it was police) and fault is dolled out appropriately. Horror doesn’t even begin to cover it, but luckily the Russki “Dancing on Ice” starts Sunday so hopefully that will get me through the winter.

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7.9.13

Last night we went to Rock Karaoke at our local bar and it was potentially the most glorious night of my life, if for nothing else than Backstreet Boys is considered Russian Rock. The place was full when we got there but we managed to blag ourselves the front table with the best view in the house. Our teacher, Sasha, was there and did some singing as the lead singer as well as harmonies for other. Appaz you can just go onto stage and just join in. You get the odd couples that go on stage and have a cheeky dance whilst touching eachother’s bums – just a little inappropes je pense. There was the song about the grandma smoking weed which was thoroughly enjoyed by all and I think next week we’re all gonna have to get up on stage. If for no other reason than to get away from the drunken guy that was asleep on our table with his hand in his own spilt drink. Mare.  

How can I ever leave when this is Friday night?