The Bear and The Bea(tles)

It has been a while since I have updated the blog with a mix of being busy and Russian Freshers flu hitting hard, I've found little time to update my blog. Even if this post should have been up a week or so ago, just bear with me. Oh and warning there will be numerous bear references, this is the tip of the iceberg and if you don't like it, this post will probably unbearable.

Петрозаводский государственный университет a.k.a. PetrSU

Two weeks ago, we had one of our first lectures with Vladimir Semakov, who will be teaching some of us Russian grammar for the time we are here. He introduced himself by patronymic and all and his name could rival some of the tongue twisters ("скороговорки") we had studied in a previous lesson, Vladimir Benaminovich Semakov. He quickly explains that even native Russian speakers have a problem with his patronymic but we try our best.

After introductions are out of the way, Vladimir talks about Russian poetry and explains because of the noun endings, poets can make pretty much any two words rhyme because of their amount of variants such as стол, стол, стола, столы, столом, столе, стола, стола, столов, столам, столами and столах (to non-Russian speakers all mean table) whereas English only has table and tables.

Vladimir thinks for a while about a famous line from English poetry, after all there are many choices; Lord Byron, William Shakespeare, John Keats to name just a few, but his choice even shocked me.
He recites the line "When I find myself in times of trouble/ Mother Mary comes to me/ Speaking words of wisdom/ Let it be."* I have to admit it is a good rhyme but it wasn't exactly what I expected Vladimir to use as a prime example of English poetry.

After the fun of our grammar lesson a few of us decide to go to a restaurant that sells bear. My friend walks in calmly and says to the waitress "Do you sell bear?" She confirms this and we sit down and have a look at the menu knowing that we have only come here to taste some bear. Bear here seems a bit pricey but it's all for the Russian experience, 850RUB for some bear seems expensive but it's only the equivalent to a steak in English terms (roughly £17).

Beer and a Bear: The bear is actually under the pastry

"Пиво и медведь", Beer and a bear, sounds much better than the Wetherspoon's classic 'Beer and a Burger'. The wait for our meal was described in the menu at least 50 minutes. Some might say that the wait was 'unBEARable' (there is the mandatory crappy bear pun).

It was something that I would personally eat again but only rarely if someone else wanted to go there. The price may put some off but the taste is nothing like chicken. It is like a very rich steak, it was enjoyable but probably not worth the wait after all. 

At this point after the bear, I have been in Petrozavodsk for over a week. Petrozavodsk is famed for the Onega Lake but I seem to be the only one who hasn't been down that far yet, probably as the bars before it entice me in. Let's see how long I can go without going down to the lake... 9 days so far.


*For those uneducated few who don't know this lyric, listen to this and educate yourself: Let It Be - The Beatles

Kivach and Sasha

Some of us spent the time after the first day of university looking around the city. However, the majority of us did the typical student thing and found the first watering hole. This just happened to be Kivach, named after the waterfall, which by Russian standards is not too far from Petrozavodsk.

We spend time at the bar where we are all sampling Russian beers and one of us asks for a typically Russian cocktail. My Russian fails me hear but in pouring the drink, I believe Max, the barman, said it was called "Dog sick". The cocktail consisted of the Russian staple, vodka, Tobasco sauce, and a yellow unnamed spirit. When he finally downs it, it doesn't seem so bad, but the Tobasco sauce is yet to kick in. When it does, he starts to feel the sensation like heartburn but the staff at Kivach, especially Max, are laughing. It seems this joke is an annual one for us English students.

We all decide the next night to have our first night out with a few pints in Kivach. About 11 o'clock, one of our lecturers, Sasha, turns up and joins us. I have a feeling no lecturer at University of Manchester would just turn up and join you when you were having a pint.

Sasha has a very dry wit and good sense of humour. When one girl asked "Will I get raped if I walk home by myself?" he quickly replied "If you're lucky, but it's never happened to me" whilst casually taking a drag of his Lucky Strike.

Walking home after midnight can be both terrifying and a great experience in Russia. Because of the 24 hour bars in Petrozavodsk, it is almost impossible to make it home without seeing at least one drunk. But now it seems like we are back on the negative stereotypes of the alcoholic Russians...

First day (and drive) in Petrozavodsk.

With it being almost a week since my last post, I felt the weekend was an opportune time to update my ventures of the previous week.

After waking up almost 3 hours later than I had planned for my first day, I woke feeling fairly fresh and hoping to have a look around Petrozavodsk and maybe go down to the lake Onega. After breakfast with Tatyana she explains the best ways (by foot, Marshruta and Trolleybus) to get to the Petrozavodsk State University. But after a long talk over a cup of tea, Tatyana suggested going for a drive with her to pick up, her daughter, Leah from university. I thought nothing of it and it would be a good way to gather my bearings and points of interest.

Russian roads are often criticised for their poor standard. But I just thought this was one of the famous negative stereotypes we have of Russia and that my cultural visit here would help me disprove the vodka drinking, bear baiting images we have of Russia. How wrong I was when it comes to roads...

People in England complain about small potholes on the roads  However if they were to drive on Russian roads, they'd probably see our roads as a red carpet to drive on. Russian drivers often swerve, almost like drink drivers, but it is necessary. The roads have pot holes, and some even have parts of the road missing. Oh and it seems it is unheard of here to wear your seat belt in any car.

While on the journey, the mixtape that is on in the car seems to show that the people I am living with have a good taste in music (in my opinion) with the likes of Metallica's 'Nothing Else Matters' and Bullet for my Valentine's 'Hand of Blood'.

It seems that in Petrozavodsk all the money for the road surfacing has been spent on the main road which the State University is on and the rest have just been scrimped and saved on. Tatyana later informed me that there are some experts from St. Petersburg will soon come and help rebuild the roads but how well that will be done is unknown.

As I have mentioned the Marshrutkas previously, I should explain what they are. They are unlicensed transit vans with a few seats in the back which pick people up at the bus stops throughout the city. I am yet to use one as most sound like they could explode at any time. The transport throughout the city is cheap though, both the Trolleybus and the Marshrutkas cost less than 15 RUB (or 40p). Certainly a hell of a lot cheaper than Stagecoach buses in Torquay.

But at this present moment, it is hot enough and the sun is shining so why not take advantage as soon the nights will draw in, the snow will fall and the mercury will dip below 0.

The Bus, The Plane and Why We Should Have Taken the Train.

So, after months of panic, visa issues, HIV test and second guessing the GBP/RUB exchange rate, it was finally time to be a man and leave Torquay, Manchester and eventually Heathrow in my tracks and land in St. Petersburg without a hitch. But that’s when it started to go wrong…

While on the plane, the idea of taking advantage of the complementary alcohol seems like a good idea, not for now but for the bus ride to Petrozavodsk, hoping that it doesn’t have an adverse effect on the Dutch courage or worsen the nerves.

Having thought we had all cleared passport control and baggage reclaim some of us left the airport with high hopes of getting to Petrozavodsk before midnight (even if it was a six hour bus journey that I can safely say none of us were looking forward to). But unfortunately British Airways had misplaced someone’s suitcase for Petrozavodsk and numerous other people who travelled with RLUS to St. Petersburg with us. 

We waited in the foyer of the airport, casually getting to know one another and suddenly it dawns on me that, I am, in fact, in Russia. The signs in Lubkovo Airport might be in English but this will be some of the last English words I see in advertising which will suddenly be replaced by «ардена» followed by miles and miles of forest. I guess that serves me right for choosing Petrozavodsk in the first place. Panic begins to set in and I hope that «Я не понимаю!» or «конечно» will suffice for any given situation.

Eventually, we are joined by the unfortunate one who lost his suitcases. We are then greeted by Sasha, who calmly stands there waving while looking more interested in each drag of the cigarette he has in his mouth that introducing himself. Did I mention he is one of our lecturers?

The bus arrives to drive us on the long, arduous journey to the Republic of Karelia, the large amount of us are eager to get on the road and get our suitcases packed on the bus, but the driver has other ideas. He tells us that they don’t need to be packed underneath the bus, just put them on the back seat… all thirty or so cases. This whole experience ruined the student chant “There were [insert number here] on the back seat of the bus”. We finally set off, hours later than planned but hey, we’ve finally hit the open road.

The roads are long in Russia and not the best standards with our bus driver, who is currently on his mobile phone, swerving in an attempt to dodge numerous potholes or maybe he’s been at the cheap vodka and likes scaring English or International students half to death. Each time a huge swerve to the left was felt all one could do is hope nothing was coming the other side as they are preparing to overtake the countless HGVs seen on the road.

We pull in after a few hours to a small shop in the middle of the forest when its pitch black with a few men sat outside grilling various types of meat. This is made to look more like a horror scene with a Volvo with its boot open to show everyone the three carcasses in the back. We hastily board the bus to try and get out of the newly named “Meat Shack” and Sasha informs us its only “90 minutes away”. How wrong he was.

A few kilometres down the road, the back of the bus seems to be shaking, while it is natural for it to shake from time to time, suddenly without warning huge clouds of smoke coming pouring out the car. The majority of us seem to think that we won’t be getting close to Petrozavodsk any time soon and I don’t want to be there to deal with a pissed off babushka having to stay up until the wee hours. A voice calls out from the back and compares the likeness of our situation to that of Jeepers Creepers 2 which inevitably leads to some scared faces around.

The driver just gets out and picks up a hammer and two chisels in an attempt to fix the problem and Sasha explains the situation: “We won’t be moving for some time, so just go out and play but not in the middle of the road”. Off the bus, we are open to four of Russia’s biggest problems; Bears, wolves, Russian drivers and Russia itself. He is still hammering away and then decides to give the engine a rev, the sound is ear splitting and those vibrations cannot be doing this any bus any good.

Finally, the bus seems to having calmed down, those vibrations are still there but have died down and as Willie Nelson says it best, we’re “on the road again”. The next 100 odd miles are just a blur; we all just want to go to sleep and are apprehensive about our first conversation with our host families.

Arriving in Petrozavodsk, the end is almost in sight. There is a bed somewhere in this town calling for me. But one of the biggest tasks is still to come… The suitcases that take up the entire back seat and then some are needed by people as they are getting dropped off near their various houses. I am not the first one but the second time we stop, my name is called out and unfortunately my two suitcases are underneath almost everything. I get off the bus with my suitcases hoping to see my host family who I only know is called Tatyana. But then I am told by Sasha to get back on its a few more kilometres down the road.

The end of the beginning of the journey has come, I feel tired, exhausted and the last thing on my mind is Russian and case endings. Luckily, my host mother used to be a teacher of English and did some higher education classes in it so she decides to give me the day off and allow me to speak a bit of English here and there over a cup of tea. Having been told via email only my host mothers name I assumed that it was only two of us. I was wrong, her 19 year old daughter Lea is asleep and her husband is at his job where he works 24 hour shifts with three days off after.

But time has come, I must hit the hay but and soon as I lay down, I now cannot sleep and its 3a.m. here but only midnight in the UK. A few hours later and I am out for the count. I told Tatyana that I was intending to wake up for 8.30 for breakfast but I severely doubt that will happen.

Introductions

Apologies in advance for both the cheesy T.a.T.u and RLUS reference and an even worse blog name. I have stolen the idea after seeing numerous people set up blogs whilst on their year abroad. Well, let's get an introduction out of the way.

I am James but more commonly known to many as Bertie. I am a third year student of the University of Manchester on my year abroad in Russia. I will be visiting both Petrozavodsk and St. Petersburg and hope to inform all about the 31 week I will spend in Russia. I hope whilst I am here to also blog more on my other one with music articles, album reviews and possibly some live reviews.

The first 48 hours of being in Karelia have been manic from the bus breaking down during our trip to Petrozavodsk from Pulkovo Airport to spotting a few wolves that have strayed from the woods but you will have to wait to read about these in the upcoming days...

For now Пока!