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Letters from Russia (Part 2)
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These letters were written by my friend, Ken Taft (Denver, USA) who arrived to
Russia with the prospect of staying in St. Petersburg for one year as a teacher
of English language. I find them both sincere and precious as they describe so
well how it feels in the beginning as well as provide useful information for
those who have plans to move to Russia for a certain period of time.
If you find the very first letters discouraging I would like to add one simple
fact: after the first year Ken decided to stay here for the second one. His
approach is that choosing between USA and Russia for living in the nearest 5
years, Russia seems much more inspiring...
Sincerely yours,
Tatiana
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Letters from Russia
Letters from Russia (Part 2):
Letters from Russia (Part 3)
Letters from Russia (Part 4)
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Letter 5: Metro & the power of chocolate
My fellow Americans,
A little bit about my metro experience and what I know about it: I know that both
St. Petersburg and Moscow have the underground subway. I don't know if any other
Russian cities have it. While the New York, Chicago, London and Paris subways are
drab and uninteresting, the Russian subway system is like an underground architectural
museum. There's endless amounts of granite, marble, columns, chandeliers, mosaics and
sculptures. St. Petersburg has some interesting stations, but the Moscow stations are
more beautiful overall.
If you buy your fare in mass quantity (e.g. 25 rides), the price comes out to about 5 rubles
(about $.16) per ride. The street level entrance is a popular place for police to stop and check
the papers of young men to make sure they have done their compulsory military service. You pass
through the turnstiles at street level, then descend on an escalator about 300-400 feet into the
bowels of the earth. It's my favorite time to people watch. Going down, it's stand on the right,
walk on the left. Coming up, it's standing only. It's a popular time for lovers to steal some kisses
for a few minutes, the man usually standing on the lower step, unless she's taller of course.
During rush hour it can be a stampede to make sure you get on board before the doors slam
shut. Then you stand there like a can of asparagus barely able to turn around. The trains
run every two minutes, so there's never any waiting. Although it rarely happens (not to me yet),
I'm careful to keep my valuables out of reach of pick-pockets. Most of the time I'm able to
take a seat, but during rush hour it's not likely I'll get one. Plus you are obliged to
give up your seat to the old or disabled. My stop is the last on the line. I ascend the
escalator up to the cold and icy streets. At the exit there are always people waiting to meet
someone. "Top of the escalator" is the understood meeting place.
A few letters ago I talked about my new staple food. It is the pirozhkeys sold by street side
vendors. No matter the temperature or conditions, these women are out there everyday making
people like me a little less hungry. They usually also sell a low grade tea and coffee and offer
ketchup and mustard as condiments. Just look for the steam rising into the air and you probably
found a pirozhkeys cart.
Recently I wrote to some of my teaching colleagues about a situation I had in the teachers'
lounge at my school. Almost all the teachers are Russian women. While in the teachers' lounge
preparing for my lesson, they would talk amongst themselves (in Russian) but not try to include
me in any of their conversations. It was like I wasn't there. I speculated on why, but in the end
it didn't matter. I wrote to some of my teaching colleagues in Denver to help me answer this
question. I received some good advice to get them to engage me, but in the end I went with the
advice of my Russian language teacher. I went out and bought a nice box of chocolates and walked
around the room offering some to all the teachers. Never underestimate the power of chocolate!
Especially when it comes to women. Not all the teachers were there, but I think word got out
about my actions because all of them have been very engaging lately.
I have a class to teach in the morning, so I must prepare my lesson.
Until next time...
Ken
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Letter 6: Thieves, dictators and the celebration of Woman
Hey! (Swedish for Hello!)
Sometimes in life things are going so well that it seems like nothing can go wrong.
Almost everything is going your way. Good family, good friends, good job, good life.
You settle into a nice comfortable groove and forget about all the bad things in the world.
This is when even the most cautious of people become vulnerable. Since I've been in Russia,
I feel like I've been reborn in many ways. I've made new friends, I'm experiencing a new
culture and slowly coming to understand it. I'm learning the in's and out's of a new profession,
a different culture and a new way of looking at life. I'm also realizing how much I enjoy teaching.
Unfortunately, I had some bad luck yesterday. I was at a Starbuck's style coffee shop waiting
to meet with a teacher of Russian language. I left my backpack unattended for 30 seconds while
I went to grab some sugar and somebody walked off with it. I should have been more careful.
I lost my digital camera, some Russian books and dictionaries, my gloves and my very valuable
Green Bay Packer hat. Obviously, somebody was watching me. Luckily my passport and keys weren't
in there. In the big picture, it's just material possessions, but it still doesn't feel good
to be robbed.
On the bright side, snow and ice was actually melting today for the first time since I've been
here. Spring may be coming soon. I've only had to endure winter since January. Everyone here
says winter started in October. I'm looking forward to the first day I don't have to wear a coat
when I leave my apartment. The weather forecast in Denver is for a high of about 60F for the next
four days and of course sunny. This morning in St. Petersburg it's sunny and about 20F.
Does anyone know what International Holiday is being celebrated today? It's Women's Day.
I know, it hasn't caught on in America yet. Actually I think Russia is about the only place
it's celebrated with such fervor. Russians love any excuse to eat, drink, meet with friends and
family and not have to go to work. Today is the day all Russian women are honored for their hard
work and contribution to family and society. Everywhere you go, you see men carrying flowers and
cakes to take to the special women in their lives. The closest thing we have I guess would be
Mother's Day. The holiday was first celebrated in 1913 as a day of international solidarity of
women in their struggle for economic, political and social equality. It became an official public
holiday in the Soviet Union in 1966. Since then, it's lost most of it's ideological essence and has
now become a triumph of femininity and tenderness. American style feminism is still in it's infancy
in Russia. According to a recent survey, 92% of Russian people think that men should make shows
of courtesy towards women, i.e.: holding doors, offering an arm when walking and walking on the
side nearest the street to protect her from traffic. To all my female readers, I'd like to know
how that sounds to you. Old-fashioned and out-dated or something quite appealing? As for gender
equality, about half the women think it exists. About 60% of the men think it exists.
Excerpts from the St. Petersburg Times:
Russia's army is 8% women, third behind America and Israel. A bit different from American
soldiers, Russian female soldiers compete in the Miss Army contest and are judged on their
looks, combat skills, singing, ballroom dancing and cooking skills.
When one Russian male soldier was asked about the high numbers of women in the American Army,
he responded: "Perhaps there aren't enough men there."
Wednesday was another significant day in Russian history. It marked the 50th Anniversary of
Joseph Stalin's death. Hitler and Stalin are often put in the same category because of their
crimes against humanity. They are different though. Whereas Hitler aimed to eliminate all members
of a different race, Stalin eliminated millions more of his own people in the name of building a
great Socialist state. It may be true that he turned Russia into a great world power, but estimates
of 10 to 20 million people died of execution or famine in the work camps of Siberia and all over
the country. He signed off on over 700,000 executions. The cult of Stalin still exists today.
He was a strong leader and a great builder and many senior citizens wish for the Soviet age to
return. Their miniscule pensions from the capitalists cannot sustain them.
Enough history for today.
See you next week, same bat time, same bat channel...
Ken
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Letter 7: 667 - The Neighbor of the Beast
So who lives next door to the Devil at house number 667?.. "The Neighbor of the Beast".
He's a demon called Influenza, and he paid me a visit last week. Last Friday night I came down
with a debilitating case of the flu. It came on so suddenly that it felt like a possession.
I woke up Saturday morning about 20 spoken words away from losing my voice. I had a class to teach
for three hours and it was my first time with this group so I couldn't cancel. I limped through
the class with a head full of "Aleve" and a mouthful of throat lozenges. They were a talkative
group so it took the pressure off me.
After class I was supposed to meet my new friend Olya and we were to spend a few hours together.
I called her to cancel and to tell her I was heading home to the comfort of my bed. She insisted
on coming to my flat to take care of me. I told her No because I did not want her to catch what
I had, but she refused to listen. She arrived at my apartment with a sack full of Russian medicine
and a new plant for my window sill. At least something in my apartment would look healthy and alive.
She immediately had me lay down and she withdrew to the kitchen to concoct her mixture of potions
and elixirs. It was "swallow this, drink that, and now lay down and sleep". I tossed and turned for
awhile and finally fell asleep. I awoke about three hours later expecting to be alone again, but
there she was, in the corner chair quietly reading a book. It was quite surprising to see and quite
comforting at the same time. At this time my good friend Tatiana called to see how I was fairing.
Since I was in a deep medicated haze, I put her on the phone with Olya and they chatted for what
seemed like days, in Russian, about how to best cure me of this demon spell. Even though we had
enough medicine for the entire Russian army, she needed more. So she took a quick walk to the
pharmacist for more medicine. She dosed me one more time and I knew I would soon be out for the
evening. So she made her goodbyes and promised to call me tomorrow to see how I was doing.
On Monday Tatiana and her husband Sergey stopped by to check on me. She had a chicken in one hand
and enough fruit in the other to make Carmen Miranda happy. So into the kitchen went Tatiana to make
chicken soup while Sergey installed Russian dictionary software on my laptop. They spent a few hours
with me having my first real meal in three days and administering laughter, the best medicine.
Over the next couple of days I continued to receive calls from friends, colleagues and even some
of my students called to see how I was doing. It was quite an outpouring of concern for my well
being. I guess it's one of the characteristics of a group-based culture like the one that exists
in Russia. In America it might seem quite strange for someone you hardly knew to spend a better
part of the day taking care of you. When I inquired about this caring for others who are sick,
I only heard: "It is just what we do."
So now it is a week later, I feel much better, and except for a lingering cough, I've resumed
where I left off. The big talk right now is about the Russian debut of Lord Of The Rings, The
Two Towers. In Russia, all movies are dubbed into Russian. Finding a movie in English with Russian
subtitles is a very difficult task. So, I won't be going to the cinema. Before leaving America
I saw The Two Towers. Since the movie is about 95% fight scenes, 4% percent New Zealand scenery
shots and 1% dialog, it shouldn't be too difficult to dub this movie. Here's something interesting
about Russian movie theaters. They treat the seating the same way they do for the ballet or for
plays. It's all reserved seating. You can buy tickets to the movie a week in advance, arrive to the
theater late and still know that your choice seats will be there. I like it! What a great way to
avoid all the commercials and all the Austin Powers movie previews.
Today I am eagerly awaiting the arrival of my new mattress. The days of sleeping on the upholstery
covered box spring are over. My very spoiled American body needs something quite soft and cushy
to sleep on. Last night Tatiana and I drove in her car to a shop I found that sold very inexpensive
cotton mattresses. I had to ask her for the use of her car since it would have been quite a sight
trying to push a mattress through the turnstile of the metro by myself. Essentially, it looks like
a thinner version of a futon, but a bit softer.
The sun is out today, and I had to take a quick break from writing to capture some Vitamin D on my
face. Looking outside is quite deceiving. With the sun shining it looks quite warm, but it's
about -19C. For all you Americans that's about -4F. Don't blink or your eyelashes will freeze
together. Directly behind my building is a courtyard with a fenced-in kindergarten. At around
11:00am, if I look out my window, I will see a miniature herd of potato sacks waddling through
the snow. Little munchkins bundled up from head to toe with only eyes peering out from behind
scarves and hoods. I imagine that the better part of the morning is spent unwrapping these little
bundles of chaos when they arrive to school, and then ten minutes later begin the two hour process
of bundling them up again to go outside for recess. With their limited sight and loss of dexterity
from all the clothing it's fun to watch them collide into each other, fall down, get up and do it
all over again. "Human bumper cars". Sometimes it's like dominoes. How these teachers keep track of
all the hats, mittens, scarves, boots and jackets I will never know.
It's a bit after noon and time for me to venture out into the cold to feel the sun on my face.
Enjoy the warmth if you have it!
Bye for now,
Ken
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Letter 8: Fascists, oily beau hunks and peanut butter
Hello All,
It seems we are getting closer to war with Iraq. It seems to picking up steam and nothing is going
to stop it. Some of you have expressed concern about my safety living outside of America during time
of war. Well, I can tell you, I'm much safer here than I would be in America. First of all, it would
be very difficult for any terrorist to know I was American without hearing me speak. Second of all,
if there are any Al Qaeda in St. Petersburg or Moscow, they probably get the crap beat out of them
by the skinheads on a regular basis. There aren't a lot of skinheads, but the troublesome little
parasites tend to attack anyone with dark skin (be it African, Indian, Pakistani, Egyptian, South
American). It's the same problem we have in America with the Aryan Nation, but here they are more
likely to take action.
A couple weeks ago a Pakistani student was beaten and kicked to death. There was a group of students
from India and Pakistan who were just standing on the street talking. A group of skinheads started
to yell racial slurs, then started to chase them. The student who was killed had a sprained ankle
and couldn't run, hence, he became their target. The police said they really could do nothing and
classified it as hooliganism that turned into an unfortunate death. The group of students held a
meeting with the police about their safety. One student said: "These gangs are fascists and you must
do something about them." The police representative responded with: "Don't talk to me about fascists,
my parents were killed by German fascists in the blockade of St. Petersburg in WWII." My American
friend Evel has an African friend who lives in St. Petersburg and plays in a popular band. He told
him that he's been beaten up twice by skinheads. It's too bad that the police won't take these
matters seriously. Because of these incidents, it's almost inevitable that the media will
successfully portray all Russians as racist, which is not true. Also, Russia will be a place that
dark skinned people will avoid.
Changing the subject... Last night I met with a new acquaintance of mine (Larissa) at an English
style pub near the center of the city. Upon walking into the bar I immediately heard English being
spoken and thought: "Oh good, a place I can go to when I feel the need to speak with native English
speakers." It was a small place, cafe style, and very smoky. It was filled with Brits, Scots, Irish,
a few Americans and some Russians. Larissa saw me and motioned me over to sit with her and her
friends. All six people at the table were speaking English except occasionally the girls would speak
in Russian to each other. At our table was this guy from Miami, about 45, with a girl about half his
age. He was this greasy stud man who was some real estate magnate in Florida. He told me he lived in
St. Petersburg seven months out of the year. I tried questioning him more about his situation but he
grew suspicious of my questioning and became evasive. I told him where I was from and he related the
story how he was able to get rid of his property in Breckenridge and his ex-wife with one stroke of
the pen. Also at our table was this younger Dutch lad who was trying to make a go of it in
St. Petersburg working for General Electric. It was quite an interesting scene with me, oily beau
hunk, little Dutch boy and three Russian girls who were all friends from childhood. I didn't know
quite what to make of it or why I was there, but I felt like I was engaged in the conversations and
a detached voyeur at the same time. I only stayed an hour since I had to catch the last metro at
midnight. Oily beau hunk left with the girl half his age, one girl walked home by herself, and
Larissa left with little Dutch boy to go out all night clubbing. On the metro home I thought:
"That was some of the best entertainment I've had since coming to St. Petersburg."
This weekend I'm going to the Peter and Paul Fortress with my friend Olya to look at some ice
sculptures and an ice house they put together. I'm guessing it's not heated. I've heard that they
serve alcoholic drinks in special ice glasses. Tomorrow I'm getting out of the city for the first
time since being here. Tatiana has invited me to go walking in a forest near St. Petersburg or
somewhere along the Gulf of Finland. I'll be sure to take my camera. On Monday I start teaching
a new class, Business English. After looking at the text book, I'm quite positive that I'm going
to have to be especially creative to make this interesting for my students.
Russians, like the Europeans, love their mobile phones. First of all, it's much more reliable and
clear than the home phone. Second, for many people it's a status symbol. If you have a very fancy
expensive phone, you have it out all the time, showing it off while you talk. There are mobile
phone stores and kiosks on almost every corner. It's quite insane. I wonder who's buying all these
phones to keep all these businesses in the black. I, being status deficient, opted for your basic
basement level black phone with no bells and whistles. I expect people to give me a strange look
when I show them my blue light special. I can send text messages which is quite useful here in
keeping your phone bill low.
This week one of my students brought me some soy sauce. I was so excited I almost did a little soy
sauce dance right in the classroom. I love cooking stir fry, and it's almost impossible to find
Asian food products here. Another one of my students is going to Los Angeles for ten days. She is
young, single, female and attractive, and because of this I have no idea how she got a visa.
I questioned her and she was also surprised that she was granted a visa. I asked her very kindly
to bring back some chunky peanut butter for me. She didn't know what it was, I had to explain it
to her. So in about three weeks, I will have peanut butter. VERY EXCITING!!! It's amazing how much
you miss something when you no longer have access to it.
That's all for now.
I will write again soon,
Ken
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