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Monday, 26 September 2011
Thursday, 22 September 2011
Episode 10: Rob does Russian things (with mixed results)
I'm under swift instructions to "sort out my apostrophes" so if you spot one misplaced or missed out then would you be a dear and put it in the comment section, ta.
So now that I have somewhat settled into life in this little town i've built up sufficient swagger and bravado to leave my room and take on some extra-curricular Russian activities (not just drinking).
Ok so drinking! In the last episode I praised Petrozavodsk's bar culture and here I praise it again. Good places to get a drink here include the "PTZ Pivnoi Klub" (impossible name nice bar), "Neu Brandenberg" (the German-themed place: great staff, so so cheap and a really nice vibe in the daytime) and obviously "Kafe Begemot". What I have yet to incorporate into my post-university attempts to meet and speak to Russians is clubbing and tbh I don't think it'll be very good... I mean Oxford isn't exactly club Mecca but something tells me this place isn't either. On the other hand it's my birthday soon so maybe we'll find out, eh? Anyway through drinking we have made some good (I think they're good) friends. There is Evgenii the bodyguard, Juri who likes punk rock and several other people who are just as lovely and animated. It's amazing how the odd drink improves one's ability and confidence to speak! Just not sure if several drinks starts to ruin it all again...
Next we have the couchsurfing meeting! Ha ha! Excellent! I first heard of couchsurfing in first year through a good friend from Canada (by way of Hong Kong and New York obvs) and so I decided to pop along with some classmates to the meetup of the Petrozavodsk contingent. We thought that it was supposed to be at "Bar Corsica" but outside in the cold we were met by Roman (a friendly coachsurfer) who told us it was in his flat in a neighbouring building. A stray dog audibly growled as we crossed the street and headed into the communal yard. Roman tapped in his security code and opened the heavy doors to usher us up the thin staircase past countless closed doors into his warm and cosy apartment.
After tripping over the shoes of the other assembled coachsurfers we were greeted by a huge table of refreshments in his siting room. As we nervously shuffled in, the room of Russians ominously bore down on the Englishmen in the corner. The mood was far from icy but something definitely needed to happen. Thank god for Sheffield Tom turning up with a bag of beer to prompt a swift loosening up! We did our best to endear ourselves in stuttery Russian to the couchsurfers who did their best to laugh at our attempts at humour as we explained our couchsurfing understandings and gave a few anecdotes of our experiences. Later, after a prolonged and chilly walk around the town, we ended up in another flat (we were kicked out of the first one for being too merry post-meeting) and I made a ton of good friends in the early hours, debating British accents, nice socks and how amazing this Soviet style apartment was. At this party we were invited too...
...Karelian folk dancing! Now i'm getting truly Russified! We turned up to the ministry of culture in Lenin Square on Monday not knowing what to expect. Immediately we were lead into a polka. The angry girl partnered with me, frustratedly shouted "Stoi!!" ("stop!") every five seconds because I couldn't get the ryhthym down for the galloping. Round and round we polka'd as the demon accordion player garbled on and on. Soon we began to get the hang of it and collapsed for a tea break. Next we danced something that seemed faux Irish which we managed quite well, but then came THE CIRCLE OF DOOM...
We entered into a kind of rituatlistic part of the routine (bear in mind this is written by an Englishman with no concept of folk dancing or its vocabulary) where we first had to bow to a girl, then fake a chase after her (all lecherously) then do some kind of improv dance routine for her while she clapped and stamped. Oh dear. The Russians ahead of us in the circle successfully cossack danced their way through the routine and I'd like to say we valliantly tried, but I fell flat on my arse...
h the emabarrassment! But nevermind dear reader! - I got an applause anyway and I have just enough pride in my still to go again this Thursday! What a weird hobby i've started!
Anyway this was a nice distraction, now back to Russian Jeremy Kyle... thanks again for keeping up x
So now that I have somewhat settled into life in this little town i've built up sufficient swagger and bravado to leave my room and take on some extra-curricular Russian activities (not just drinking).
| Where I live! In the sunshine! |
Ok so drinking! In the last episode I praised Petrozavodsk's bar culture and here I praise it again. Good places to get a drink here include the "PTZ Pivnoi Klub" (impossible name nice bar), "Neu Brandenberg" (the German-themed place: great staff, so so cheap and a really nice vibe in the daytime) and obviously "Kafe Begemot". What I have yet to incorporate into my post-university attempts to meet and speak to Russians is clubbing and tbh I don't think it'll be very good... I mean Oxford isn't exactly club Mecca but something tells me this place isn't either. On the other hand it's my birthday soon so maybe we'll find out, eh? Anyway through drinking we have made some good (I think they're good) friends. There is Evgenii the bodyguard, Juri who likes punk rock and several other people who are just as lovely and animated. It's amazing how the odd drink improves one's ability and confidence to speak! Just not sure if several drinks starts to ruin it all again...
Next we have the couchsurfing meeting! Ha ha! Excellent! I first heard of couchsurfing in first year through a good friend from Canada (by way of Hong Kong and New York obvs) and so I decided to pop along with some classmates to the meetup of the Petrozavodsk contingent. We thought that it was supposed to be at "Bar Corsica" but outside in the cold we were met by Roman (a friendly coachsurfer) who told us it was in his flat in a neighbouring building. A stray dog audibly growled as we crossed the street and headed into the communal yard. Roman tapped in his security code and opened the heavy doors to usher us up the thin staircase past countless closed doors into his warm and cosy apartment. After tripping over the shoes of the other assembled coachsurfers we were greeted by a huge table of refreshments in his siting room. As we nervously shuffled in, the room of Russians ominously bore down on the Englishmen in the corner. The mood was far from icy but something definitely needed to happen. Thank god for Sheffield Tom turning up with a bag of beer to prompt a swift loosening up! We did our best to endear ourselves in stuttery Russian to the couchsurfers who did their best to laugh at our attempts at humour as we explained our couchsurfing understandings and gave a few anecdotes of our experiences. Later, after a prolonged and chilly walk around the town, we ended up in another flat (we were kicked out of the first one for being too merry post-meeting) and I made a ton of good friends in the early hours, debating British accents, nice socks and how amazing this Soviet style apartment was. At this party we were invited too...
...Karelian folk dancing! Now i'm getting truly Russified! We turned up to the ministry of culture in Lenin Square on Monday not knowing what to expect. Immediately we were lead into a polka. The angry girl partnered with me, frustratedly shouted "Stoi!!" ("stop!") every five seconds because I couldn't get the ryhthym down for the galloping. Round and round we polka'd as the demon accordion player garbled on and on. Soon we began to get the hang of it and collapsed for a tea break. Next we danced something that seemed faux Irish which we managed quite well, but then came THE CIRCLE OF DOOM...
![]() |
| Demon accordion player - get your polka on! |
h the emabarrassment! But nevermind dear reader! - I got an applause anyway and I have just enough pride in my still to go again this Thursday! What a weird hobby i've started!
Anyway this was a nice distraction, now back to Russian Jeremy Kyle... thanks again for keeping up x
Labels:
Couchsurfing,
Folk Dancing,
From Russia with Rob,
Karelia,
Russia
Tuesday, 20 September 2011
Episode 9 (part two): This isn't Paris, this isn't London, it's not Berlin, it's not Hong Kong...
continued impressions of life in a small(ish), Russian town...
The giant orange paw prints painted on the pavement led the way to Cafe Begemot. A cafe named after a giant, ficticious, black cat with a Browning automatic? I'm there!
We edged slowly down the narrow granite and marble staircase towards to front door.
"Is it open? It doens't look open..."
A man pushed the door open at us giving us a start.
"Yup it's open"
We went in tentatively. Oh wow.
Red velvet curtains led the way through the first room. Bookcases lined the walls, and expensive, black-leather sofas framed polished-wood coffee tables. More curtains tastefully tied back with gold cords, led into the second room - a giant basement, red bricked like the Kremlin with musical instruments in chipped, bronze frames in the walls. A jazz band played cooly on a stage. They wore sunglasses.
If there is one thing Petrozavodsk does well, it's bars. Tasteful interior design, attentive staff and high-class atmospheres somehow come paired with unbelievably cheap pints (over £1.50 you're paying too much). This is still taking some getting used to!
If there's one thing Petrozavodsk doesn't do well its pavements. Giant potholes line the roads and side walks. They fill up with water during the many many downpours and cars regularly kick up this muddy slush, showering pedestrians waiting at the city's very few road crossing. This is hardly the fault of the town and I imgagine it has something to do with the extremities of climate: water getting into cracks, freezing and expanding.
Public transport is great, but it is also a kind of experience in it's own right. At rush hour trolleybuses fill up and steam up. Yes there is always the smelly guy in the corner of the bus in the UK, but could someone please open a window? Ok it's not that bad. The price of public transport and the frequency of services is absoultely amazing and it's hardly a country's fault for it's citizens' ignorance of deodrant. The "one price any distance" system is a blessing for students providing you don't try and pay with a big note and if you can put up with the bumpy ride, the lead feet of just about every driver gets you to where you want to go in no time.
I don't like to complain much - after all I chose to study here and love it but if there is one more thing that stands out as a slight annoyance about life here then it is the degree of scorn that accompanys most monetary transactions. Russians seemingly hate giving change, and even big supermarket cashiers are prepared to start a duel over the slightest overpayment. It must be a weakness of the currency system, but when bankomats (cash machines) only give out 500 and 1000 notes I have no idea how the locals get by...
People here are mostly very friendly. Foreigners are greeted with more warmth than suspicion. I suppose curiosity translates awkwardly a lot of the time and we feel stared at simply for being here. After dark things are a little edgy. Drinking in the street is common place here and big groups of Russian men cluster under lamps on street corners, half empty litre bottles of beer swinging menacingly in their hands. Stick in a group guys.
and now for something completely different...cheers for reading.
The giant orange paw prints painted on the pavement led the way to Cafe Begemot. A cafe named after a giant, ficticious, black cat with a Browning automatic? I'm there!
We edged slowly down the narrow granite and marble staircase towards to front door.
| Begemot spots me from a roof... |
A man pushed the door open at us giving us a start.
"Yup it's open"
We went in tentatively. Oh wow.
Red velvet curtains led the way through the first room. Bookcases lined the walls, and expensive, black-leather sofas framed polished-wood coffee tables. More curtains tastefully tied back with gold cords, led into the second room - a giant basement, red bricked like the Kremlin with musical instruments in chipped, bronze frames in the walls. A jazz band played cooly on a stage. They wore sunglasses.
If there is one thing Petrozavodsk does well, it's bars. Tasteful interior design, attentive staff and high-class atmospheres somehow come paired with unbelievably cheap pints (over £1.50 you're paying too much). This is still taking some getting used to!
If there's one thing Petrozavodsk doesn't do well its pavements. Giant potholes line the roads and side walks. They fill up with water during the many many downpours and cars regularly kick up this muddy slush, showering pedestrians waiting at the city's very few road crossing. This is hardly the fault of the town and I imgagine it has something to do with the extremities of climate: water getting into cracks, freezing and expanding.
Public transport is great, but it is also a kind of experience in it's own right. At rush hour trolleybuses fill up and steam up. Yes there is always the smelly guy in the corner of the bus in the UK, but could someone please open a window? Ok it's not that bad. The price of public transport and the frequency of services is absoultely amazing and it's hardly a country's fault for it's citizens' ignorance of deodrant. The "one price any distance" system is a blessing for students providing you don't try and pay with a big note and if you can put up with the bumpy ride, the lead feet of just about every driver gets you to where you want to go in no time.
| All the cool kids just say " I took the trolley yesterday" |
I don't like to complain much - after all I chose to study here and love it but if there is one more thing that stands out as a slight annoyance about life here then it is the degree of scorn that accompanys most monetary transactions. Russians seemingly hate giving change, and even big supermarket cashiers are prepared to start a duel over the slightest overpayment. It must be a weakness of the currency system, but when bankomats (cash machines) only give out 500 and 1000 notes I have no idea how the locals get by...
People here are mostly very friendly. Foreigners are greeted with more warmth than suspicion. I suppose curiosity translates awkwardly a lot of the time and we feel stared at simply for being here. After dark things are a little edgy. Drinking in the street is common place here and big groups of Russian men cluster under lamps on street corners, half empty litre bottles of beer swinging menacingly in their hands. Stick in a group guys.
and now for something completely different...cheers for reading.
Thursday, 15 September 2011
Episode 9 (part one): This isn't Paris, this isn't London, it's not Berlin, it's not Hong Kong...
Yes Andrei, Russia is a big country. We know.
So, we'd just finished our last "Stranovedeniyeh" (Country studies?) lesson of the week and our teacher Andrei had spent the last hour explaining to us several times that Russia was gigantic. He brought a slide show with a map on it and everything. Cheers Andrei, you're a pal. Sarky attitude aside, he is truly a mine of wonderful facts about Russia and so with Captain Obvious catered for, he announced his plan to take us, weather permitting, on a morning tour of Petrozavodsk - the city that I am studying in until December. So I'll take this opportunity, after having assembled some photographs and impressions from our ramble, to elaborate on where I am and give my impressions ( in two parts) of this gem of Northern Russia.
What can I say? Petrozavodsk is the capital of many things (mostly pot holes and modified LADAs). First and foremost it is the capital of the Republic of Karelia, one of the many constitutent Okrugs and Oblasts of the Russian Federation. This part of Northern Russia has its modern origins in the expansions of Peter the Great and, like it's bigger sister St Petersburg, Petrozavodsk was built and named after the progressive Tsar. Literally meaning "Peter's Factory", the town industry produced munitions for Peter's growning navy and the settlement was founded in 1703, with famous poet Gavrila Derzhavin presiding as first governor.
Today it is regarded as a calm and small town. Dreadful 60's towerblocks paint a gloomy skyline, but their oppression is counterbalanced by the pomp of 18th century architecture which lines the many sprawling squares of the compact town centre. The town is littered with monuments (a particular fascination of the Russian social character). They come in all shapes and sizes, here and are usually chiselled out of Karelian granite. Statues of engineers, warriors, Bolsheviks and poets can be found, literally round every corner boosting chances for cheeky photos. Fans of Jude Law flick "Enemy at the Gates" can pine over the several plaques dedicated to Stalingrad sharpshooter Vasiliy Zaitsev. Chunks of expensive rock aside, there are many green spaces and trees line the wide streets giving the town a breezy feeling and a reputation for being calm (even though the speed of traffic and uncomfortable road crossings suggest otherwise). The town is served by an easy-to-understand transport system that requires nothing but initial bravery to use. In fact I cared so much I wrote about it here: http://www.thirdyearabroad.com/russian/robs-russian-blog/item/965-rob-in-russia-public-transport.html.
The lakeside embankment is by far the most beautiful part of the town. The gorgeous Lake Onega -easily the size of an English county- is quite simply epic. It's temperament changes daily, and mists from the far side often rise and drift over the water. Comparisons to lakes from pokemon were, naturally, swiftly drawn...
Further round the banks of Onega are small patches of pebble and shingle beach. Here any noise from the town mysteriously vanishes and in rare moments of sunshine these places are incredibly pleasant.
This was really a superficial post in the sense that it was about what Petrozavodsk looks like and is considered to be like. Soon i'll write you something about what it feels like, which, in my opinion, is much much more interesting and really what my kind of travel writing is about, so...part two soon!
| The obligatory giant Lenin monument |
| Derzhavin - poet, governor, obsession |
Today it is regarded as a calm and small town. Dreadful 60's towerblocks paint a gloomy skyline, but their oppression is counterbalanced by the pomp of 18th century architecture which lines the many sprawling squares of the compact town centre. The town is littered with monuments (a particular fascination of the Russian social character). They come in all shapes and sizes, here and are usually chiselled out of Karelian granite. Statues of engineers, warriors, Bolsheviks and poets can be found, literally round every corner boosting chances for cheeky photos. Fans of Jude Law flick "Enemy at the Gates" can pine over the several plaques dedicated to Stalingrad sharpshooter Vasiliy Zaitsev. Chunks of expensive rock aside, there are many green spaces and trees line the wide streets giving the town a breezy feeling and a reputation for being calm (even though the speed of traffic and uncomfortable road crossings suggest otherwise). The town is served by an easy-to-understand transport system that requires nothing but initial bravery to use. In fact I cared so much I wrote about it here: http://www.thirdyearabroad.com/russian/robs-russian-blog/item/965-rob-in-russia-public-transport.html.
| Lakeside Embankment in the sun |
The lakeside embankment is by far the most beautiful part of the town. The gorgeous Lake Onega -easily the size of an English county- is quite simply epic. It's temperament changes daily, and mists from the far side often rise and drift over the water. Comparisons to lakes from pokemon were, naturally, swiftly drawn...
Further round the banks of Onega are small patches of pebble and shingle beach. Here any noise from the town mysteriously vanishes and in rare moments of sunshine these places are incredibly pleasant.
This was really a superficial post in the sense that it was about what Petrozavodsk looks like and is considered to be like. Soon i'll write you something about what it feels like, which, in my opinion, is much much more interesting and really what my kind of travel writing is about, so...part two soon!
| Park with industrial monuments and an unexploded bomb for WW2... |
| Kirov Square with one of the many theatres in the town |
Sunday, 11 September 2011
Episode 8: The cat, the classroom and the caviar...
'Cos nothing says good morning like a spoonful of fish eggs! Or that's what I thought when I awoke last Sunday to a giant bowl of porridge and a jar of caviar. Certainly not going to go hungry in this country as they are overfeeding me like an ageing house-pet! No matter how carefully I word my responses to "But you have eaten nothing!" I always seem to be a subject of concern to my lovely hostess Valya.
One of our teachers at the uni described Russian attitudes to students as being a little backwards and I think I know what he means. I don't exactly feel patronised, but the level of care and grandmothering that people of my age face in Russia is something from a gone-by era in the UK. We're told to wrap up warm, to eat plenty of food and to look both ways when crossing the road. I know students are dopey but we're also fiercly, hormonally-proud creatures...
Anyway much to my joy, when my hostess returned from a late-summer trip to her dacha, she brought with her a cat!!! Anyone regularly reading fromrussiawithrob not only deserves to be bought a drink, but also will know that one of my main questions when heading to Rus would be whether Russians are the cat lovers I thought they were. Well I was right! And I now occupy a diddy flat with Valya, an old man who I barely understand and Lapsya/Lapsa I little-bitty-kitty, ginger in colour and Persian (I think).
Alright, sillyness out of my system it's time to blog properly! I'm attending classes at Petrozavodsk State University and I have a few first impressions and comparisons with English univeristy to share. Firstly, boy does everyone look young! Before you say it, yes I don't exactly look my age all the time. In fact, if I shave, I have trouble buying Die Hard on DVD, but my point here is that Russian university resembles a large sixth form college. A bell rings inbetween lessons. Students are taught in classrooms. There is an assembly hall, one cafeteria and no discernable bar!! It's a little strange, but twice I've called it school entirely be accident. Many of the students start here at 17.
Instead of freshers' week there is an upcoming "Day of the First Years", which involves some kind of choral sing-along and festivities. Everything in comparison to our first-week-of-uni debauchery seems madly innocent here. I'm certainly not reevaluating my philiosophy, i'd still pick freshers flu, losing my voice and regretful kisses over feeling nannyed any day, but it begs the question as to which system produces the better young people? Do we grow up too fast in the UK? or does Russian university serisouly lack some rock n roll?
One of our teachers at the uni described Russian attitudes to students as being a little backwards and I think I know what he means. I don't exactly feel patronised, but the level of care and grandmothering that people of my age face in Russia is something from a gone-by era in the UK. We're told to wrap up warm, to eat plenty of food and to look both ways when crossing the road. I know students are dopey but we're also fiercly, hormonally-proud creatures...
Anyway much to my joy, when my hostess returned from a late-summer trip to her dacha, she brought with her a cat!!! Anyone regularly reading fromrussiawithrob not only deserves to be bought a drink, but also will know that one of my main questions when heading to Rus would be whether Russians are the cat lovers I thought they were. Well I was right! And I now occupy a diddy flat with Valya, an old man who I barely understand and Lapsya/Lapsa I little-bitty-kitty, ginger in colour and Persian (I think).
| Schoolniversity,eh? |
Instead of freshers' week there is an upcoming "Day of the First Years", which involves some kind of choral sing-along and festivities. Everything in comparison to our first-week-of-uni debauchery seems madly innocent here. I'm certainly not reevaluating my philiosophy, i'd still pick freshers flu, losing my voice and regretful kisses over feeling nannyed any day, but it begs the question as to which system produces the better young people? Do we grow up too fast in the UK? or does Russian university serisouly lack some rock n roll?
Friday, 9 September 2011
Thursday, 8 September 2011
REPOST: The Last Shadow Puppets - The Age of the Understatement
Candidate for best music video filmed in Russia?
The only music video filmed in Russia?
Well, its has ballerinas, tanks and 60's hairdos what more do you want?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XGV8xCkpXjE
PHOTO CREDIT: Taken under creative commons from traaf's photostream on flickr: http://www.flickr.com/photos/traaf/4502006663/
The only music video filmed in Russia?
Well, its has ballerinas, tanks and 60's hairdos what more do you want?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XGV8xCkpXjE
PHOTO CREDIT: Taken under creative commons from traaf's photostream on flickr: http://www.flickr.com/photos/traaf/4502006663/
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