Here's a picture of a church.... see it's traditional dome bits on the top, that means it's a genuine Russian church. Note that while I was taking this picture a car crashed into the back of another car behind me.... I tried to sneakily film the irrate Russian woman whose 4x4 (is that the technical term) had been hit and who seemed to act also as a car mechanic/insurance claims advisor by shouting at the man in the car that had hit her 'you owe me 13000 roubles for that!'

I always though there was something dubious about Noel Edmonds, and now I know what it is,,,, not only has he been inflicting his beardy faced smugness on the great British public but for the past 3 months he's been in contract negotiations with Russian prime time TV bosses..... here's how the story goes:
One of my students came to me and said 'Rebecca, I need to know the language of negotiation and I hear you're the king of Business English'......'That's right' I said, pulling out my briefcase and slipping into my trouser suit. 'Shoot' I said. The student looked at me confused. 'Er, tell me what you need to know' I said.
'Well our bosses in Moscow have been approached by a beardy faced short man claiming to be the Messiah of TV game shows, and he has an idea that he wants to sell to the Russian TV company that I work for. It's a game based on chance, there's no skill involved, the contestants don't have to do anything other than open a box. And occasionally they get a phone call from an imaginary person calling himself a banker.... meanwhile it's the beardy faced man's job to create an atmosphere of tension and anticipation. But the beardy faced man will only sell it to us if he gets to present it; he mentioned something about world domination and then laughed like a madman. So, our bosses want the idea but don't think his image is suitable for the young Russian audiences, he wears his trousers too high.'
So off I went and taught the student to negotiate like a pro..... and now? Well we have our own Russian version of 'what's in the box' or whatever it's called. In the middle of their meeting I rang the tv company's office in Moscow and asked to speak to Mr Edmonds, 'Who?' said the receptionist. 'The beardy faced man' I said. 'Ah, I'll put you right through', she said.
'We'll offer you one million roubles' I said in my best bankers voice.... He took the money.

Meanwhile, back in reality, I took my new found friends to the summer cafe where the baltika is cheap and the barman knows my name (oh, no that's in my other local bar)... the Baltika was off, there was a fight between two young Russian men, and we got drenched in a summer storm... we could have moved indoors but we were showing our great British (and American) resillience. When we did eventually move indoors they said they weren't disappointed by my choice of venue, but I fear they were lying.

Do they say that men are like buses, you wait for ages for one and then three come along at once? Well, I don't know if it's true about men, or even buses, but it's certainly true for Native English Speakers in Tyumen (from this point on referred to as NESTs). Here I am, isolated and struggling (well, kind of) for three whole months and it turns out that all this time there's been two girls (one British and one American) at the University feeling isolated and struggling too. And unlike the Aussie woman (who makes it 3 buses), who is still in her honeymoon period, these two girls have been here long enough (too long by the sounds of it!) to share many of my opinions on certain matters like the food for example! We concluded that:

Russians are better drinkers than Americans and Brits
Russians make better cakes than anyone
Going to the Russian Embassy in London is like the scene from Fight Club where Meatloaf's character stands on the doorstep for 3 days and nights while being constantly told to go away (plus being insulted and having water thrown over him)
Don't eat the Kvas salad soup concoction (and I was so keen to try it, but it made both of these girls feel sick!)
The meat is BAD

OK just to stress how bad the meat in this country really is, here's extracts from conversations with my Russian friend,
ME: Ohhhh look at that summer tent over there, there's a barbeque.
HER: Hmm yeah but you may get dog in your burger.

And then later in the week,
HER: Yum this pizza is tasty and the meat is real meat.
ME: What, you mean it's not dog? (realising that she's not laughing) Do you get fake meat even in pizzas? (I realise that technically dog is 'meat' but let's classify it here as fake meat – ie, meat you shouldn't eat)
HER: (like I'm stupid) Yeah!
ME: (innocently) Why?
HER: Because people in Russia want to make money....

I'm becoming vegetarian for the rest of my stay – unless the food is prepared and cooked by my Russian family; they are rich enough to avoid fake meat – me, I have the income of a teacher so therefore fall into the category of people who can only afford to buy the lower end of the meat market, the offcuts and the dog meat.....

I went for my Mexican food with the student, and it turned out that the restaurant was Mexican THEMED but there was no actual Mexican food.... so I had salad and blini whilst surrounded by the Mexican décor of orange walls and, erm, well, just orange walls.....I guess the demand for food from other places is not so called for here. And then I got lost on my way home, which was an adventure, I got to see a bit more of the town.

So fear not, friends, the lonely wanderer is lonely no more.....

I managed to flee from Britain in January, almost untouched by the Arctic Monkeys hype, to the havens of provincial Russia; where they haven't even heard of the Arctic let alone monkeys that dwell there... Alas, it is not to be with the case of the Da Vinci Code (I'll do what every other person's doing and write about it), for even here in Orthodox Christian territory everyone's talking about koda Da Vinci.... Mostly they say 'it's the work of the devil', although I'm inclined to think that Satan would offer the world something a bit more challenging than the effort Dan Brown has given us. I haven't read it, so yes, I am a book snob... and a music snob too(don't like the Arctic Monkeys any more). Well I don't understand why people make such a hooooo-hah – for every person that complains about it's theme, a hundred people go out and buy the book, off the back of the controversy – Fact. Thus, more people complain, then more people buy the book. 'Thank you very much' says Mr Brown as he trots to the bank and signs a Hollywood movie deal while at the same time getting to meet the greatest living actor of all time, Tom Hanks (fact!). 'Grrrrr' say religious people..... 'what a rubbish book' say the punters.

So despite this, life in Russia is normal, I'm practising my Russian but haven't been to the summer tents because of summer rain. Today I am going to go out with one of my students, she's taking me to a Mexican food place. At last someone heard my cries of hunger and decided to help the clueless foreigner that I am. Actually, I have been eating salads and I tried my potato filled dough which was quite tasty, but to my disappointment some of the dough was empty – that's right, no potato. I was cheated. The potato was kind of yellow as well but you can't have it all can ya? There is another food that I want to try (but apparently it's best if it's home made so I'm dropping hints to my Russian family) which is salad and a special drink called Kvas, which you pour over the salad to make it into a kind of cold soup. I've seen Kvas, as we had some in the flat, but it's fizzy like Coke so I'm not sure what the results would be. A big Russian food mess probably.

There and back Again: A hungry Brit's Tale

I have succeeded in my quest to find tasty Russian food to cook for myself. It consists of potato filled dough, which may not sound as appealing as tastes. I had already tried the meat version of this delicacy, but if you question for one second what the 'meat' inside the dough actually is then you somehow lose your appetite. It looks like a cross between cat food and chewed up mince!! So I went for the vegetarian option, and as I haven't tried it yet I can't comment, but I shall inform you tomorrow of my opinion.

By some miracle or other divine intervention, I have been released from my 5 year old babysitting duties this week, so no class with the little monsters.... yippeee, yeehaa hooray. That's all I can say.

Today has been surprisingly warm and sunny (am I really in Siberia?)and we were treated to a storm.... I laughed at all the glam women who had put skirts and sandals on, 'not so glam now are ya?!' I yelled at them from across the street.... no I didn't really.

My friend and I upgraded to a more sophistocated summer tent yesterday evening (this is the location of my tri-weekly Russian lesson), as our usual place had been over-occupied with drunken karaoke-seeking merry-making Russian folks. We were not pestered by one-legged babooshkas in this classier establishment but I felt the general atmosphere suffered for the lack of such things.

I met the Aussie woman who is technically my rival, but it turned out that she's got some books that will assist me in my complete lack of understanding of Business English, which is nice. She has only been here 3 weeks and already she is much more adventurous than me.... perhaps this whole 'experiencing a different culture' just isn't for me, and I felt embarrassed by my cynicism, and lack of ability to adapt to my new surroundings. Even when I mentioned the food, she casually said, 'well I just made spag bol the other night'... and I was left wondering to myself, 'why did I never think of doing that?'.... I didn't come all this way, suffer all those hardships at the hands of the Russian Embassy, just to eat spag bol!!!

I came to eat baked beans...

I have been practising my Russian phrases with the little boy in the flat, he laughs at me! And gets angry with me when I don't remember the correct words... with teachers like this it's only a matter of time before I become fluent. I have been managing so far to just smile and say 'da' when I get approached by strangers but sometimes this can provoke dirty looks as if said strangers are thinking 'ignorant fool who does she think she is'... but yesterday I was approached by a drunken Baboshka begging for money and my smiles and 'da's' were not appreciated... she looked angry so I did what everyone else was doing and just ignored her. When she had stumbled off I asked my Russian friend what the old woman had been saying. It went like this 'I have had an operation on my leg and now I want to dance and today is my birthday so give me some money for alcohol'. Well they certainly tell it like it is here in Russia, none of your, 'please spare a coupla pence for a cuppa tea guvna'. There seemed to be a lot of drunken people on the streets and in the tent where we stopped for a beverage yesterday, I fear they were 'binge drinking' but here in Russia it's known plainly as 'drinking'. And the word entertainment applies here to what we know, in the UK, as 'karaoke'. But it seems that by 7pm, most of the people who frequent these places have a good 5 hours of drinking behind them, and the wails of Russian pop sung to a tinny backing tape becomes like, well, music to their ears and even something that they can dance to, but to the sober, it is unbearable and we were forced to sit outside where the noise was less deafening. I asked my friend 'is this the underclass?' and she said yes. I said 'we have something similar in Britain, it's called a Weatherspoons pub'. Hoho!

I decided to bring the joys of the Gallagher brothers to the young people of Tyumen but unfortunately they didn't dig it. I think they were put off by the lyrics of the song I chose which was Half the world Away (for those of you who don't dig Oasis either, that's the theme tune to The Royale Family)... we looked at the words before listening to the song, and the teenagers' analysis of Noel's lyrics? 'He a crazy man'. Indeed he is young folk. I think they're used to more upbeat themes to their pop tunes.... so then we listened to a Russian pop song, by my favourite Russian pop group, which they translated for me and which went along the lines of..... 'your father's on the toilet.....' and the chorus, 'it snowed a lot and then you went went went went...' I don't think we're ready just yet to cross the cultural borders between our two nations.....Although I gave 'Spaced' Series One to my boss and she loved it, and rightly observed that Britain is a nation of wasters. Her comment 'Does nobody work in Britain!' was, I guess, a fair comment after watching that particular programme. However, knowing that she has already watched The Office, I would have thought she could see the reason behind people's reluctance to work... links quite well with the whole Business English thing, as she just can't fathom why I detest it so much. It will come, in time, to Russia and then they will understand the horrors that await them in the workplace. Behind every filing cabinet in every office in every company there is a David Brent lurking.....

Other news: well Russia came a measly second in the Eurovision, we was cheated! Weather's ok I guess, not sunny or warm but not raining or cold - nondescript (if that's a word, perhaps it's two words) and I have met a fellow Native English Speaker - although she is not of the British variety, she is an Australian.... I am meeting her for a coffee tomorrow so I'll let you know how it goes!

So Russia didn't make it to the World Cup but hey no matter: not when you've got a world-class song to enter into the Eurovision Song Contest. I think Russia's entry is great, although my ears are accustomed to such pop trumpery so you may not agree, as it's an acquired taste. I shall be rooting for the Motherland and probably laughing at the poor attempt from Britain. If I get to watch it. Everybody who I've asked so far hasn't even heard of the bleedin thing, so I don't know if it'll be on in our flat (remember, TV controlled by 7 year old boy).

A strange (but unsurprising, to me at least) change in the weather took place yesterday. After reaching high degrees of warmth over the past few days it was bizarre to see snow again and the temperature drop considerably.... so the summer is as unpredictable as the winter, which is good – I like consistency.

I have heard, through talking to students, that there may be a food out in them there Russian supermarkets that I will actually like.... I am going to go on a quest to find the glorious treasure... I shall keep you posted.

Like in all the best places on earth, the sun and warm weather brings out all the town crazy folk, and Russia ain't no exception. In celebration of summer and being able to, y'know, walk on the actual ground instead of on an inch of snow, there have been several 'summer tents' erected around the town. Here one may purchase cheap pints of Baltika and reasonably reliable food - ie. you can identify what you are eating. So, all this merryment has meant that all the people who hibernated in their homes over the winter months have now come out to play... I feel humbled when I see drunk middleaged couples dancing cheek to cheek in a dirty beer tent whilst the karaoke singers entertain them. There's drunkeness sure but none of that nastyness that you see in big towns in the north west of England *('surely you don't mean Manchester?' say the readers)* There's no girls sobbing on the side of the pavements, no sick, no men brawling over taxis... it's quite pleasant really. And the Baltika's good!

I have had a lesson with the little devils and, as expected, they haven't changed. There was the usual pencil throwing, head banging, screetching, jumping, climbing etc etc... but this time I'm not stressed, I don't care! They gave the teacher who took my lessons while I was away a hard time too, she came up with a nickname for them too and it wasn't dissimilar to mine.

I don't have many lessons this week but I have to be careful bacause this time I'm on a real Russian wage (that means I get about 160 pounds a month) but I realised that even if I work only 20 hours a week I'd still get paid more than a fully qualified doctor in this country. So really I have a very good deal, especially considering the Baltika is the equivalent of one pound... haha!

... sun, warm, rain, cold, wind, sun, warm, hot, warm.... and so it goes on. It's worse than Manchester for the amount of times the weather has changed today. But I ain't complaining. I've got nothing to complain about, remember?
Still no mud, still got cans of beans in the cubpoard, so I'm as happy as Larry as the saying goes.
Mind you, nothing to complain about = nothing to write about so not very interesting for you guys I'm afraid. Who knows, perhaps in the night a mud slide will pass over our town, the supermarket will run out of biscuits and beans, and the local playgroup will decide to come and have english lessons with me, and then I can write about how horrible it all is....!

It's sunny it's warm and there's no mud. Hoorah. What then, I hear you ask, will she write if there is nothing to complain about? Well, I witnessed a spectacle of a television show which I'd like to share with y'all. Take two teams and a truck full of dominoes and two classic tales from literature, and hey presto! you have the best tv programme EVER! The retelling of The Hunchback of Notre Dame through the medium of dominoes falling (is that what you call it?) versus the retelling of Moby Dick through same meduim, but with different dominoes obviously.

Apart from watching TV I've had my first Russian lesson. Prepare to be amused, I mean amazed, at my bi-lingual abilities upon my return (only 12 weeks to go, not that I'm counting). I can tell everyone that I'm hungry and that I'm tired and that I drink beer, in Russian. In fact, as I write this very blog I am impressing the Russians in the office with my new found language skill. Maybe I can learn Business Russian next...

I have been reaquainting myself with the Russian pop music and even had a cd bought for me by my Russian family of my favourite Russian band called Animal but in Russian it sounds like 'zvery'. The sun has also produced buskers on the streets, which is something I never thought I'd see! I asked them to play Babyshambles but surprisingly the legend of Pete Doherty has not made it this far east yet.

So here I am, back in the Motherland, my second home.
After facing some problems with the very, ahem, helpful people at the Russian Embassy I eventually made it to the airport and finally to Tyumen, with my visa in hand. One day I shall explain why I never want to go the Russian Embassy again in my whole life but for now just believe me when I say it's not a pleasant experience!
The weather is quite good but not as sunny or warm as London. My Russian family have been, as expected, very hospitable and glad to see me. Other than that it's all just the same as when I left it. I'll have a good sleep and hopefully have more to say for myself in a few days!