Private Bureaucracy
This is a sort of banal history. Last week I bought a computer mouse at Tekhno-Sila (trans. Techno-Strength, very comforting to the security minded indeed). Upon arriving home, I realized I had bought a mouse with the wrong connector. Now, the mouse cost 359 rubles, which is about $13 but I'm on vacation and the store is a ten minute walk, so I decided to exchange it:
Trip 1: Forgot the receipt
Trip 2: I make sure I have the receipt. Then I go to the information desk, where they tell me I need to go to the cash registers, on the other side of the building. At the cash registers, the lady shouts that I have to talk to Sergei, the kontrol'er, the ONLY person who can complete this transaction. Sergei, the kontrol'er is near the entrance, distinguished from his yellow-polo clad minions by his purple shirt. I explain that I need to exchange the mouse. He's willing to help, but he needs my passport (?) to document the transaction.
Trip 3. I make sure I have the receipt and my passport. I find Sergei and he remembers me. He reaches into a cabinet for a stack of forms. I give him my passport. Sergei meticulously fills out every form from my visa information and, dissatisfied with my middle name, officially renames me Seth Jamesich. The form needs my passport's issuer and date of issue. This has not been translated into Russian so I have to show Sergei where it is on my passport. I even translated the organization into Russian, but Sergei doesn't need my translation, as he is very carefully writing "New Orleans Passport Agency" in Latin script. Sergei can transliterate English, French or German. This is why they pay him the big bucks. This is why he gets the purple shirt. I get my passport back and go to get the replacement, while Sergei continues filling out the duplicate forms. When I get back, he has just finished the paperwork and has started putting it into the computer for electronic storage. Finally, he prints off the the last form and has me sign. He explains, "This form is to prove that you brought back the merchandise. This form is to prove that you received your new merchandise. This form is to show that you verify the information from your visa." Finally, we get to the cash register, where the final transaction must take place. Sergei looks at me with wet eyes: "Well, I'll leave you with her now." Me: "Thank you, Sergei. You're a gentleman and a scholar." Sergei: "Please...come again." So I am left with cashier Valeria, who reaches into her cabinet for a stack of papers....
Long story short, it took me about an hour to exchange the mouse without having to wait in any line at all. In other news:
-I spent a nice half week outside of Russia in Riga. Not that Riga is that great but my hotel had free cable internet and there were no stray dogs on the streets.
-Ryazan' Transit authority has outraged the population by raising public transportation prices from 5 to 6 rubles per bus ride (from 20 to 25 cents, approximately).
-My apartment building's lock broke (three months ago) and the homeless/drunk population continues to use my stairwell as a public bathroom/hotel.
Sunday, January 21, 2007
Monday, December 25, 2006
Merry Christmas
Here's some pictures from the Christmas party I had for a group of my students. Good, clean, Russian fun which included a rousing tableside performance of the first verse and chorus of "Jingle Bells" repeated over and over again.
Candid Shot: Tanya and Natasha have a heart-to-heart while Ann and Vasya play music and Nastya and other Tanya dance.
At the table clockwise: me (with bowl haircut), Natasha, Tanya, other Tanya, Ann
At the other side of the table: Lera, Me, Nastya, other Lera
Preparing for dinner, Natasha, Tanya, other Tanya, Nastya, yet another Tanya, Ann
Of course, no Christmas would be complete without an exchange of gifts. My students gave me a very nice photo album for Christmas. I gave them a government required exam.
Here's some pictures from the Christmas party I had for a group of my students. Good, clean, Russian fun which included a rousing tableside performance of the first verse and chorus of "Jingle Bells" repeated over and over again.
Candid Shot: Tanya and Natasha have a heart-to-heart while Ann and Vasya play music and Nastya and other Tanya dance.
At the table clockwise: me (with bowl haircut), Natasha, Tanya, other Tanya, Ann
At the other side of the table: Lera, Me, Nastya, other Lera
Preparing for dinner, Natasha, Tanya, other Tanya, Nastya, yet another Tanya, Ann
Of course, no Christmas would be complete without an exchange of gifts. My students gave me a very nice photo album for Christmas. I gave them a government required exam.
Sunday, December 10, 2006
Soviet Camaraderie
Wednesday I went to a historical conference commemorating the 65th anniversary of the battle for Moscow. I was supposed to give a speech on something like "American Historical Memory of WWII." The whole idea made me a little nervous for a couple reasons:
1. Lots of old soldiers, loyal Soviets, angry pensioners. These are people who may not be so receptive to American perspective on WWII, no matter how much I qualify it by saying it's not my own personal perspective.
2. Speaking to crowds is not my forte, especially in Russian.
More than this, I had no idea what the conference was going to be like, aside from the fact that it was in Mikhailov, a town 60 kms west of Ryazan with about 100,000 people, whose only claim to fame is that it was one of the places the Germans were stopped. As it turned out, the conference was basically my university's History Department plus the old soldiers and, according to the schedule, my section of the conference was on WWII general history. Unfortunately, I was transferred to the "Battle of Moscow Memorial" Section, the section I feared most of all.
In all actuality there was nothing to fear. The conference was rather poorly organized, in that they scheduled 15 speeches in 2.5 hours, meaning each speech was supposed to be 10 minutes or less. Obviously, this didn't happen. Also, at the sections no one was well known enough to attract any interest. So the only people there were the speakers, who were just waiting for their turn to talk. My favorite moment was when the toothless 80 year-old former soldier, carefully watching the time on his cell phone, exclaimed, "Excuse me! Everyone has 10 minutes and you've just passed the 11th!" My speech went over well, in part because it was on a very different subject than the other presentations. Also, I did it in 8 minutes.
Wednesday I went to a historical conference commemorating the 65th anniversary of the battle for Moscow. I was supposed to give a speech on something like "American Historical Memory of WWII." The whole idea made me a little nervous for a couple reasons:
1. Lots of old soldiers, loyal Soviets, angry pensioners. These are people who may not be so receptive to American perspective on WWII, no matter how much I qualify it by saying it's not my own personal perspective.
2. Speaking to crowds is not my forte, especially in Russian.
More than this, I had no idea what the conference was going to be like, aside from the fact that it was in Mikhailov, a town 60 kms west of Ryazan with about 100,000 people, whose only claim to fame is that it was one of the places the Germans were stopped. As it turned out, the conference was basically my university's History Department plus the old soldiers and, according to the schedule, my section of the conference was on WWII general history. Unfortunately, I was transferred to the "Battle of Moscow Memorial" Section, the section I feared most of all.
In all actuality there was nothing to fear. The conference was rather poorly organized, in that they scheduled 15 speeches in 2.5 hours, meaning each speech was supposed to be 10 minutes or less. Obviously, this didn't happen. Also, at the sections no one was well known enough to attract any interest. So the only people there were the speakers, who were just waiting for their turn to talk. My favorite moment was when the toothless 80 year-old former soldier, carefully watching the time on his cell phone, exclaimed, "Excuse me! Everyone has 10 minutes and you've just passed the 11th!" My speech went over well, in part because it was on a very different subject than the other presentations. Also, I did it in 8 minutes.
Sunday, December 03, 2006
A Star is Bernstein
Last week my students invited me to the theatre with them. The play was "Krotkaya," an adaptation of a Dostoevsky short story. The theatre group was a trio from Skopin, a small town south of Ryazan. The play was pretty weird, modern theatre from the provinces, and between the strange performance and my unfamiliarity with the story, I didn't catch a whole lot.
After the play, my students and I were standing outside the hall, talking about the play (ie, my students explaining the play to me), basically alone because all the other spectators had gone to get their coats. Then I saw a camera crew from Ren-TV, a Russian network, coming toward us. I explained to my students that I didn't want to be on TV but, of course, the first thing they said was, "We came to the theatre with our foreigner teacher," and the camera turned on me. They showed it at 7:00pm the next day. I didn't say a whole lot, I think it was something like this: "Yeah, I teach English at the University. I didn't really get the play but it was good, a little strange. I don't know." I fully expect to get a weekly cultural analysis segment with that kinda insight and charm.
Last week my students invited me to the theatre with them. The play was "Krotkaya," an adaptation of a Dostoevsky short story. The theatre group was a trio from Skopin, a small town south of Ryazan. The play was pretty weird, modern theatre from the provinces, and between the strange performance and my unfamiliarity with the story, I didn't catch a whole lot.
After the play, my students and I were standing outside the hall, talking about the play (ie, my students explaining the play to me), basically alone because all the other spectators had gone to get their coats. Then I saw a camera crew from Ren-TV, a Russian network, coming toward us. I explained to my students that I didn't want to be on TV but, of course, the first thing they said was, "We came to the theatre with our foreigner teacher," and the camera turned on me. They showed it at 7:00pm the next day. I didn't say a whole lot, I think it was something like this: "Yeah, I teach English at the University. I didn't really get the play but it was good, a little strange. I don't know." I fully expect to get a weekly cultural analysis segment with that kinda insight and charm.
Friday, November 24, 2006
History
I'm applying to grad schools for history now and while looking for various information I found this document, the preface to my term paper for Junior Honors History. It's still as relevant as ever:
Forward:
When I started this paper yesterday, I had no idea anyone would read it. Yet, in spite of all the distractions, I believe I wrote the finest historiography of the Burr Conspiracy. Ever.
Although I conceived papers that struck home before, (Bernstein, “King Arthur vs. Rethro: Attack of the Barbophile,” Kenyon College, 2002. Bernstein, “Art History, Fart History,” Kenyon College, 2001.) my own writing, until yesterday, had never brought me to tears. In many ways, Burr’s life mirrors my own. We are both renowned ladies men. We both killed famous politicians. We were both possibly guilty of treason (Depending on whether your definition of US soil includes Jenna Bush).
Burr is my inspiration, regardless of speculative history that has tried to place his life into the neat framework of my own. However, this work would not be complete if I did not express my gratitude to friends and accessories. Foremost, I would like to thank the kid from Jerry Maguire without whose shining example, I may not be alive today. Secondly, I would like to thank Sam Bowie for his mediocre strength in the face of speculation (PS. Sam, we finally did it!). Last (but not least!) I would like to thank Delta Burke for guiding me into manhood.
On my final note, I would like to thank Gerald McRaney in advance for not taking me to the street and breaking me.
I'm applying to grad schools for history now and while looking for various information I found this document, the preface to my term paper for Junior Honors History. It's still as relevant as ever:
Forward:
When I started this paper yesterday, I had no idea anyone would read it. Yet, in spite of all the distractions, I believe I wrote the finest historiography of the Burr Conspiracy. Ever.
Although I conceived papers that struck home before, (Bernstein, “King Arthur vs. Rethro: Attack of the Barbophile,” Kenyon College, 2002. Bernstein, “Art History, Fart History,” Kenyon College, 2001.) my own writing, until yesterday, had never brought me to tears. In many ways, Burr’s life mirrors my own. We are both renowned ladies men. We both killed famous politicians. We were both possibly guilty of treason (Depending on whether your definition of US soil includes Jenna Bush).
Burr is my inspiration, regardless of speculative history that has tried to place his life into the neat framework of my own. However, this work would not be complete if I did not express my gratitude to friends and accessories. Foremost, I would like to thank the kid from Jerry Maguire without whose shining example, I may not be alive today. Secondly, I would like to thank Sam Bowie for his mediocre strength in the face of speculation (PS. Sam, we finally did it!). Last (but not least!) I would like to thank Delta Burke for guiding me into manhood.
On my final note, I would like to thank Gerald McRaney in advance for not taking me to the street and breaking me.
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
Note from the Russian University
I thought I would post some differences between American and Russian universities. In general, going to college is a job in Russia rather than a way of life, like it is in American. Russian universities rely on a large number of class hours relative to American universities and far more in the major subject. Monday thru Saturday there are four class period of 1.5 hours each. Students have classes five days a week and an average of three classes a day, meaning a little more than 20 class hours a week. On the other hand, Russian students have less than one hour of homework for every hour of in class time. Almost all of their classes are in the major subject, or failing that, in a related subject. For example, my third year groups have four English classes, six second foreign language classes and five lectures on foreign history and economics or teaching.
Students generally enter the university at 16 or 17 meaning the first year of college in Russia replaces senior year at American high schools. As you might expect, a lot of Russian students lack some of the general knowledge American high school graduates have but have an excellent background in their major subject. When they enroll they are placed in a group of 9-12 students and assigned their academic schedule. For language students, this also means an assigned third language. Some of my students were extremely (and not particularly pleasantly) surprised to find that this year their group had been assigned to learn Japanese.
The age of Russian students also means they are sometimes not as mature as you would expect college students to be (maybe my expectation of college students is too high). Last week I was in my history class, listening to a lecture about the origins of the first False Dmitri. This is a first year class on Ancient Russian history with the very youngest students and I was sitting in the back row, trying not to interrupt anything. This girl sitting in front of me repeatedly turned around to take a peak at me, finally placing a notebook near me on the desk. Inside the notebook was this note:
I thought I would post some differences between American and Russian universities. In general, going to college is a job in Russia rather than a way of life, like it is in American. Russian universities rely on a large number of class hours relative to American universities and far more in the major subject. Monday thru Saturday there are four class period of 1.5 hours each. Students have classes five days a week and an average of three classes a day, meaning a little more than 20 class hours a week. On the other hand, Russian students have less than one hour of homework for every hour of in class time. Almost all of their classes are in the major subject, or failing that, in a related subject. For example, my third year groups have four English classes, six second foreign language classes and five lectures on foreign history and economics or teaching.
Students generally enter the university at 16 or 17 meaning the first year of college in Russia replaces senior year at American high schools. As you might expect, a lot of Russian students lack some of the general knowledge American high school graduates have but have an excellent background in their major subject. When they enroll they are placed in a group of 9-12 students and assigned their academic schedule. For language students, this also means an assigned third language. Some of my students were extremely (and not particularly pleasantly) surprised to find that this year their group had been assigned to learn Japanese.
The age of Russian students also means they are sometimes not as mature as you would expect college students to be (maybe my expectation of college students is too high). Last week I was in my history class, listening to a lecture about the origins of the first False Dmitri. This is a first year class on Ancient Russian history with the very youngest students and I was sitting in the back row, trying not to interrupt anything. This girl sitting in front of me repeatedly turned around to take a peak at me, finally placing a notebook near me on the desk. Inside the notebook was this note:
Saturday, November 11, 2006
Ryazan' State University vs. Radio-Akademia
I'm going to try my hand at sports reporting:
The Ryazan' State University Basketball Club's season was off to a rough start. After a much celebrated overtime victory over the Med-Akademia, the team fell in its next game by double digits to the Engineering Institute. But more was on the line besides a victory. Anton, a sharpshooting small forward practicing with the University, was playing for the opposition, Radio-Akademia. Tensions were clearly at a peak between the two teams.
Volodia and Mekhin Warm Up
In the first half, the bulky center from Radio-Akademia dominated Ryazan' University's wiry big man, Aleksandr Kuzmin. The University's fast break attack could not compensate for the enormous disparity in foul shots and the treacherous sixth-man, Anton, added off the bench scoring from the three point line. At the break, the score was 38-30, in favor of Radio-Akademia.
Sergei Efimov Drives
In the second half, the University regrouped behind power forward and captain, Volodia and small forward Artyom Mekhin. Behind by as much as 15 in the second half, the two combined for 18 points from the long range to catch Radio-Akademia with 3 minutes remaining. The other Volodia, the backup center, fouled out on an intentional foul call, giving Radio-Akademia four free throw shots and the ball; however, Radio-Akademia went cool from the line, missing nearly all its free throw shots in the fourth quarter.
Volodia from the Top of the Key
With half a minute remaining, Mekhin made a clutch layup, giving the University its first lead of the game, 60-59. The next possession, Radio-Akademia searched for a way to regain the lead, nearly turning the ball over with five seconds remaining. After a time out, Radio-Akademia went to its main option, who got a questionable foul call at the end of regulation. Despite the free-throw woes they experienced, Radio-Akademia's point guard sank both free throws, winning the game 61-60.
Coach Arkhipov Talks It Over
After the game, captain Volodia was reached for comment, "Well, [censored], that sucked. Let's go get some beers."
I'm going to try my hand at sports reporting:
The Ryazan' State University Basketball Club's season was off to a rough start. After a much celebrated overtime victory over the Med-Akademia, the team fell in its next game by double digits to the Engineering Institute. But more was on the line besides a victory. Anton, a sharpshooting small forward practicing with the University, was playing for the opposition, Radio-Akademia. Tensions were clearly at a peak between the two teams.
Volodia and Mekhin Warm Up
In the first half, the bulky center from Radio-Akademia dominated Ryazan' University's wiry big man, Aleksandr Kuzmin. The University's fast break attack could not compensate for the enormous disparity in foul shots and the treacherous sixth-man, Anton, added off the bench scoring from the three point line. At the break, the score was 38-30, in favor of Radio-Akademia.
Sergei Efimov Drives
In the second half, the University regrouped behind power forward and captain, Volodia and small forward Artyom Mekhin. Behind by as much as 15 in the second half, the two combined for 18 points from the long range to catch Radio-Akademia with 3 minutes remaining. The other Volodia, the backup center, fouled out on an intentional foul call, giving Radio-Akademia four free throw shots and the ball; however, Radio-Akademia went cool from the line, missing nearly all its free throw shots in the fourth quarter.
Volodia from the Top of the Key
With half a minute remaining, Mekhin made a clutch layup, giving the University its first lead of the game, 60-59. The next possession, Radio-Akademia searched for a way to regain the lead, nearly turning the ball over with five seconds remaining. After a time out, Radio-Akademia went to its main option, who got a questionable foul call at the end of regulation. Despite the free-throw woes they experienced, Radio-Akademia's point guard sank both free throws, winning the game 61-60.
Coach Arkhipov Talks It Over
After the game, captain Volodia was reached for comment, "Well, [censored], that sucked. Let's go get some beers."
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Living Large in Ryazan
Oksana from the Fulbright office came to visit and I had the unfortunate dilemma of figuring out something to do in Ryazan. It's just kind of a working city without places of interest. So, of course, we went to the Ryazan Kremlin, the one place you can count on every Russian city to have. Here's the cultural lesson I gave:
Ryazan is one of the older Russian cities, among the first to be incorporated into Muskovite Russia. The first Ryazan was actually about 60 miles downriver (on the River Oka) but the Mongol-Tatars destroyed it in the 13th century. New Ryazan was Pereslavl-Ryazan. It has all the trappings of a regular Russian city: nice Kremlin, lots of blocky cement buildings with Russian neo-classical buildings interspersed, good bus service. The city itself is quite small, about the size of Iowa City but with a larger population (about 500,000). The downtown area is basically a triangle from Victory Square, where the electronics firm Eleks recently declared victory over high prices, to historic Lenin's Square, where Lenin finally admitted to himself that he was really bald, to Theatre Square, where nothing important has ever happened. It's all pretty well built up but as you get outside this area there are the Soviet style apartment buildings and older wooden houses further out. No fast food places. On Sundays the Central Market has chickens and rabbits for sale. It's famous personalities include the poet Sergey Esenin and behavioral psychologist Ivan Pavlov.
Last few weeks I've been exploring the city more, teaching, living, not posting. Here are some highlights:
-Students in Group E go nuts for the song "The Distance" by Cake, which got two encores, after which they borrow the disk to make copies and still haven't returned it two weeks later
-Students in Group E not so crazy about "Frankly, Mr. Shankly" by the Smiths or "Kate" by Ben Folds Five
-Set up on a very blind date with a high school student by a teacher at the university
-The basketball players suggest that we go to the banya to relax...and get prostitutes
-I learn how to tactfully refuse unwanted invitations
-Apartment move in finally complete with purchase of couch, shower curtain and toilet seat
Oksana from the Fulbright office came to visit and I had the unfortunate dilemma of figuring out something to do in Ryazan. It's just kind of a working city without places of interest. So, of course, we went to the Ryazan Kremlin, the one place you can count on every Russian city to have. Here's the cultural lesson I gave:
Ryazan is one of the older Russian cities, among the first to be incorporated into Muskovite Russia. The first Ryazan was actually about 60 miles downriver (on the River Oka) but the Mongol-Tatars destroyed it in the 13th century. New Ryazan was Pereslavl-Ryazan. It has all the trappings of a regular Russian city: nice Kremlin, lots of blocky cement buildings with Russian neo-classical buildings interspersed, good bus service. The city itself is quite small, about the size of Iowa City but with a larger population (about 500,000). The downtown area is basically a triangle from Victory Square, where the electronics firm Eleks recently declared victory over high prices, to historic Lenin's Square, where Lenin finally admitted to himself that he was really bald, to Theatre Square, where nothing important has ever happened. It's all pretty well built up but as you get outside this area there are the Soviet style apartment buildings and older wooden houses further out. No fast food places. On Sundays the Central Market has chickens and rabbits for sale. It's famous personalities include the poet Sergey Esenin and behavioral psychologist Ivan Pavlov.
Last few weeks I've been exploring the city more, teaching, living, not posting. Here are some highlights:
-Students in Group E go nuts for the song "The Distance" by Cake, which got two encores, after which they borrow the disk to make copies and still haven't returned it two weeks later
-Students in Group E not so crazy about "Frankly, Mr. Shankly" by the Smiths or "Kate" by Ben Folds Five
-Set up on a very blind date with a high school student by a teacher at the university
-The basketball players suggest that we go to the banya to relax...and get prostitutes
-I learn how to tactfully refuse unwanted invitations
-Apartment move in finally complete with purchase of couch, shower curtain and toilet seat
Thursday, October 05, 2006
Retraction
I am now in possession of my watch, so I take back my nickname for the Ryazan University team. They can be the Wildcats. John R. Tunis would be proud.
Good news aside, I've been assigned to play with what is clearly the B Team. Coach actually called it something different but I didn't catch it so I don't know if it was comforting or insulting. Anyway, my thinking is that the rest of the guys are inferior players but in my case he just wants to give his full attention to eligible players. Right? Silver lining is that I'm the biggest guy both in height and weight so I can pull out my Shaq game. The Dredle patended post spin hasn't made this many appearances since Amish Electricians scrimmages.
Also, to my fellow teachers С Днем Учителя! These school holidays all seem like excuses for teachers to take bribes of flowers or candy in exchange for excusing absences or letting students go early. As for me (to borrow my students' only phrase to preface a personal opinion or experience), the film class gave me a nice pen and I let them go early. I figured that they had been good enough to humor me playing See No Evil, Hear No Evil that I owed them anyway.
I am now in possession of my watch, so I take back my nickname for the Ryazan University team. They can be the Wildcats. John R. Tunis would be proud.
Good news aside, I've been assigned to play with what is clearly the B Team. Coach actually called it something different but I didn't catch it so I don't know if it was comforting or insulting. Anyway, my thinking is that the rest of the guys are inferior players but in my case he just wants to give his full attention to eligible players. Right? Silver lining is that I'm the biggest guy both in height and weight so I can pull out my Shaq game. The Dredle patended post spin hasn't made this many appearances since Amish Electricians scrimmages.
Also, to my fellow teachers С Днем Учителя! These school holidays all seem like excuses for teachers to take bribes of flowers or candy in exchange for excusing absences or letting students go early. As for me (to borrow my students' only phrase to preface a personal opinion or experience), the film class gave me a nice pen and I let them go early. I figured that they had been good enough to humor me playing See No Evil, Hear No Evil that I owed them anyway.
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
Lyceum #4
As recommended by the Fulbright Organization, I contacted a school to arrange to give lessons/speeches for higher level English classes. When I went there to set things up, the teachers seemed half enthusiastic; it's nice to have a native speaker but it would be better if I were British, or Australian. They gave me some vague instructions about coming anytime during a six hour period on Tuesdays and that I could talk about anything I want.
When I came to Russia, I prepared a couple one-shot lessons for situations like this. Unfortunately, they're about history or baseball and students just aren't interested. Basically, the audience breaks off into two groups: the students, who want to know what Americans think of Russia (Do they, you know, like Russia? or do they "like" like Russia?) and the teachers, who want to know about "American Values." Today, they had a lesson on addiction and after I talked about 12-step programs, the teacher started to grill me. My favorite question was when she asked if American values included conquering the world. My second favorite was if I had tried drugs and, if so, did I hear colors. My answers, all lies: no, no and no.
As recommended by the Fulbright Organization, I contacted a school to arrange to give lessons/speeches for higher level English classes. When I went there to set things up, the teachers seemed half enthusiastic; it's nice to have a native speaker but it would be better if I were British, or Australian. They gave me some vague instructions about coming anytime during a six hour period on Tuesdays and that I could talk about anything I want.
When I came to Russia, I prepared a couple one-shot lessons for situations like this. Unfortunately, they're about history or baseball and students just aren't interested. Basically, the audience breaks off into two groups: the students, who want to know what Americans think of Russia (Do they, you know, like Russia? or do they "like" like Russia?) and the teachers, who want to know about "American Values." Today, they had a lesson on addiction and after I talked about 12-step programs, the teacher started to grill me. My favorite question was when she asked if American values included conquering the world. My second favorite was if I had tried drugs and, if so, did I hear colors. My answers, all lies: no, no and no.
Saturday, September 23, 2006
Ryazan State University Pirates
I started practicing with the university's basketball team last week and much to my surprise, comported myself pretty well on the court. The players are a year or two younger than me all about my height, with the exception of Sanya, the center. Half the players are named Sergei and the other half are named Aleksander. It’s made life a little easier. The practices are kind of informal; we start with running, a couple jumping/shooting/defense exercises and then a scrimmage. In the games I play a Reggie Evans-esque role: lots of boards, a couple points, a couple fouls. No Goosing.
Everyone’s been really helpful explaining the exercises if I don’t understand but in general it’s not too hard because basketball is a lot of nouns and not much grammar. I asked the coach if the team has a mascot or a nickname and apparently they don’t; however, after the second practice I went back to the locker room to find that my watch and socks (!) were gone. I’m more perplexed than mad because someone went through my gym bag where I had left my wallet, passport, etc, and decided that, in addition to a watch, men’s hosiery would make the plunder complete. I’m not going to let it discourage me (although I will leave my stuff in the office) but I have decided to give the Ryazan University team a nickname.
PS. I know it was a Sergei.
I started practicing with the university's basketball team last week and much to my surprise, comported myself pretty well on the court. The players are a year or two younger than me all about my height, with the exception of Sanya, the center. Half the players are named Sergei and the other half are named Aleksander. It’s made life a little easier. The practices are kind of informal; we start with running, a couple jumping/shooting/defense exercises and then a scrimmage. In the games I play a Reggie Evans-esque role: lots of boards, a couple points, a couple fouls. No Goosing.
Everyone’s been really helpful explaining the exercises if I don’t understand but in general it’s not too hard because basketball is a lot of nouns and not much grammar. I asked the coach if the team has a mascot or a nickname and apparently they don’t; however, after the second practice I went back to the locker room to find that my watch and socks (!) were gone. I’m more perplexed than mad because someone went through my gym bag where I had left my wallet, passport, etc, and decided that, in addition to a watch, men’s hosiery would make the plunder complete. I’m not going to let it discourage me (although I will leave my stuff in the office) but I have decided to give the Ryazan University team a nickname.
PS. I know it was a Sergei.
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
Proud to be an American
Before I came to Russia I received the same round of briefings as the last time. In general, these orientation events are designed to scare you a little bit or as time fillers. They tell you about what the political climate is like in Russia, how you can expect people to react to your nationality and, should they react badly, how to make everyday items into weapons. With respect to the second topic, I have encountered very little anti-American sentiment directed at me personally except at a truck stop somewhere between Yaroslavl and Moscow. With all this in mind, I was completely unprepared for my reception at the history class I'm auditing, a lecture on Medieval Russia. I walked in, sat down in the back right corner and heads started to turn. Clearly, I was out of place. After about 5 minutes of this the professor walked in, introduced me as his American Colleague and the entire class (about 70 people) broke out into spontaneous applause! Pretty easy crowd. Turns out they were just fans of my work.
Before I came to Russia I received the same round of briefings as the last time. In general, these orientation events are designed to scare you a little bit or as time fillers. They tell you about what the political climate is like in Russia, how you can expect people to react to your nationality and, should they react badly, how to make everyday items into weapons. With respect to the second topic, I have encountered very little anti-American sentiment directed at me personally except at a truck stop somewhere between Yaroslavl and Moscow. With all this in mind, I was completely unprepared for my reception at the history class I'm auditing, a lecture on Medieval Russia. I walked in, sat down in the back right corner and heads started to turn. Clearly, I was out of place. After about 5 minutes of this the professor walked in, introduced me as his American Colleague and the entire class (about 70 people) broke out into spontaneous applause! Pretty easy crowd. Turns out they were just fans of my work.
Friday, September 15, 2006
Teaching Rushmore:
Three times a week I have movie classes with three different groups. Although I was encouraged to play films that portray American or British values (To Kill a Mockingbird, Twelve Angry Men, My Fair Lady), I decided to balk at tradition and show something a little more contemporary. My students are in the third year where the topics for the semester are Theatre and Education. What could be better than a movie about a 15 year-old who writes plays?
Most of the kids like it, mostly for the drama with Ms. Cross and Max (my classes are about 90% female). They get most of the jokes and are, I hope, learning grammar and vocabulary. Some moments they just don't understand, in particular the conflict between Max and Dirk and Magnus. The lynchpin to this (for those of you who have not seen the movie) is that Max claims that Dirk's mom has given him a hand-job. A lot of the movie won't make sense if you don't know that word. This brings me to class today, where I felt a little like a dad with his 9 year-old son, trying to explain what a hand-job is without being too specific and while trying to avoid gestures. "It's something you do with your hand in a bed or a car, really anywhere. And it's a man, or in this case a boy, and a woman and they're touching.... Let's just say that Max said something bad about Dirk's mom." I suppose that this was enough. Maybe some of the girls really did understand and will let the others know in hushed whispers. Otherwise, I guess they'll never be able to get jobs making overdub scripts for porn.
Three times a week I have movie classes with three different groups. Although I was encouraged to play films that portray American or British values (To Kill a Mockingbird, Twelve Angry Men, My Fair Lady), I decided to balk at tradition and show something a little more contemporary. My students are in the third year where the topics for the semester are Theatre and Education. What could be better than a movie about a 15 year-old who writes plays?
Most of the kids like it, mostly for the drama with Ms. Cross and Max (my classes are about 90% female). They get most of the jokes and are, I hope, learning grammar and vocabulary. Some moments they just don't understand, in particular the conflict between Max and Dirk and Magnus. The lynchpin to this (for those of you who have not seen the movie) is that Max claims that Dirk's mom has given him a hand-job. A lot of the movie won't make sense if you don't know that word. This brings me to class today, where I felt a little like a dad with his 9 year-old son, trying to explain what a hand-job is without being too specific and while trying to avoid gestures. "It's something you do with your hand in a bed or a car, really anywhere. And it's a man, or in this case a boy, and a woman and they're touching.... Let's just say that Max said something bad about Dirk's mom." I suppose that this was enough. Maybe some of the girls really did understand and will let the others know in hushed whispers. Otherwise, I guess they'll never be able to get jobs making overdub scripts for porn.
Thursday, September 14, 2006
The Meeting About Basketball
The Ryazanskii Prospekt is a triple entendre. It's literally a street in Moscow, figuratively my prospect of living, teaching and studying in Ryazan for a year and the never-to-be-written novella about a basketball player from Ryazan (Think The Scout but with Harrison Ford as the Albert Brooks type character. Who else could do the Russian accent?).
I've been here two weeks. It's good. Got some good, non-offensive stories. Sometime I'll go back a little bit if things are boring. Yesterday I had expressed an interest in playing basketball while in Ryazan. My host University, Ryazan State University, has been really great about providing everything I want, so I shouldn't have been surprised when I was told later that day that I had a meeting with the Dean of Physcultura at 10 the next morning.
I went with my advisor, the head of the linguistics department, who is very small (5'3" at best), a distinguished, cultured, older scholar. The Dean of Sports turned out to be a hulking man (6'7", maybe 280 pounds, two of which were made up by his moustache). Think of a Southern defensive lineman turned AD with an almost incomprehensibly masculine voice. I love the contrast.
The Ryazanskii Prospekt is a triple entendre. It's literally a street in Moscow, figuratively my prospect of living, teaching and studying in Ryazan for a year and the never-to-be-written novella about a basketball player from Ryazan (Think The Scout but with Harrison Ford as the Albert Brooks type character. Who else could do the Russian accent?).
I've been here two weeks. It's good. Got some good, non-offensive stories. Sometime I'll go back a little bit if things are boring. Yesterday I had expressed an interest in playing basketball while in Ryazan. My host University, Ryazan State University, has been really great about providing everything I want, so I shouldn't have been surprised when I was told later that day that I had a meeting with the Dean of Physcultura at 10 the next morning.
I went with my advisor, the head of the linguistics department, who is very small (5'3" at best), a distinguished, cultured, older scholar. The Dean of Sports turned out to be a hulking man (6'7", maybe 280 pounds, two of which were made up by his moustache). Think of a Southern defensive lineman turned AD with an almost incomprehensibly masculine voice. I love the contrast.
I suspect they were under the impression that I had played college ball or even high school ball, an impression of which I firmly disabused them. We talked about the position I played (small forward) and when I can play, what it will be like, etc. And as every story should have a punchline this one does, too. The Dean told me he had a friend who had played in the NBA, for the Portland Trailblazers. I was hoping it was Terry Porter but at heart I knew who it was. The Dean turned around the signed, framed photograph on his desk to reveal number 11, Sabas himself, Arvydas Sabonis.
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