10.11.08

went to sfera in the morning. i have to explain about the Russian matroshkas (i think) or malinka avtobuse and bigger private ones. it is eleven roubles to get anywhere in the city, which is about 20p. they are informal, old clumsy machines that warble along, packed full of glum russians, who gogle at anyone smiling too brightly, and in general dont smell good. they circulate throughout the city continuously so you arenever waiting more then ten or fifteen minutes, and a bus conductor approaches passengers- whom they pay. they are very good at paying, even hidden from sight, or unnoticed the russians pass their coins along the crowd, and theirchange or ticket is relayed back. the buses have been my biggest fear so far, although some of the other volunteers have assured me that they've gotten onto the wrong one and ended up lost, but today, stomach turning back flipsi managed to get home from the language lesson alone. when i say alone i mean of course, accompanying Geraldine and Martina onto bus no. 90 to some street, crossing the bridge underground, being directed onto bus no. 23 successfullyfighting my urge to get off at every stop before i ended up in the Ukraine, jumping up with a hallelujah when i finally saw the Spar lights that mark my stop. so really what i achieved was managing to stay put til the right stop. but baby steps...baby steps, my confidence has grown at least. the journey ended in failure however, as i went into the wrong apartment building, up a lift and cowed by my instincts realised i was in the wrong place. and then of course,i couldnt get the door open. at least i finally got to say 'ya nye panemayo pas Ruskee' to the old man who opened the door for me, subsequently 'trapping' me. a few desperate text messages later and eventually Susha phoned,and after a confused dialogue she finally communicated that after pushing the button, you are meant to push the door open.

window view

i met Sveta on her way home at the spar, and she brought me back. tonight was good, had some bonding timeover dinner, when her and Siroja (Sergei) endeavoured to teach me more. Sirusha is such a little angel, there is something so benevolent about him, even in his playful cheekiness. Sveta loves him dearly, that much is obvious, and he helps her learn English (having lessons in school), and i think it is a game for him, saying english words and hearing me repeat the Russian, he managed to say 'for you' and gave me a pretty little new notepad! which he explained is 'blakpad' (i think) in russian. he could grow up to be such an outstanding man, that is if the state of the economy doesnt stunt him. as i am afraid it has done to so many russians, deprived of the oppurtunites we enjoy in the west. crossing the bridge underground today there were two men busking, playing a violin and some other instrument, and the music was properly outstanding, beyond any of the feeble buskers back home; and yet they looked as grimy and unkept as the many russian men stalking around, faces of stone. the streets are properly intimidating, because truely noone smiles and everyone seems so hostile, and yet when you speak with russians they are the most open, friendly andhospital people; (well so i have experienced so far). Geraldine, a german volunteer, told me she got on the wrong bus one day, and a russian woman who understood her 'o shit, i'm on the wrong bus' helped her search for her apartmentfor an hour! and their contentment and optimism is truely admirable. Sveta gave me a letter which she had translated into english saying that 'if anything doesnt suffice, just let me know' etc. it was sooo sweet! and shehas prepared labels in russian and english to stick to objects! apart from that heart stopping and then warming evening, this morning i went to SFERA where i tried to imply that i would prefer to live in an apartment with the two other volunteers Magda (who is currently in temporary accomodation) and Nickola (who is living with a family, but would prefer to be with volunteers).
During my visit Darina also organised private intensive russian lessons with another Sergei (who i met at the party and is studying postgraduate Byzantine history at university) which begin tomorrow at Polshad Lenina. And then i went to visit Bettina at her projectin a library, so i could borrow russian children's picture books. Bettina also wrote down the Russian alphabet for me, and we laughed so hard together, i almost wet myself when she went from 'tsch' to 'tsh'. Bettina is sooo nice! i thinkshe will be a good friend, she just bursts into random goofy laughter. at literally nothing. at the moment i am sitting in on the russian classes which are far too advanced for me to take anything from, the volunteers having been learning for two months. but i will be taught by Sergei every Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday morning, and i am determined to master it, because i am determined to communicate! i would love to live with other volunteers, for the freedom and independance, and feeling of ownership rather then being a guest, but i also want to experience the real russia, and that means living with a real russian family- it will be harder, volunteer fun seems like the easy way out. not that i wont choose it, but will regret it more probably. but why should it be so hard? living with a pole and croation/frenchman away from home for the fist time, in a foreign country, will still be an experience! and i really like Magda. but who knows...