The first couple of weeks were spent trying to figure out how I could minimise the time I was wasting as I tried to piece together the non-existent organisational system the institution seems to function under. It's interesting that Russians appear to have straight-forward/cut-the-crap and get-stuff-done attitude and yet everything is very difficult and complicated to actually get done. Where one email with all the necessary information to all students in the department would suffice, here they seem to have opted for the 'let's see how much the students can figure out/guess for themselves' method. It's a real test of whether you belong there....I suppose. With documents taking days to be ready, the piano department office deciding to close during the first week of term, and two weeks without language or harmony lessons because no one seemed to know which groups people were in let alone who was teaching them, it was all just the icing on a multi-layer cake.
Maybe we are spoilt on the UK or maybe that's where our tuition fees are going, but British universities do at least seem to be more than happy to supply all necessary information to new students in order to make sure everyone knows where they need to be and when. The academy in general feels behind in terms of being a modern-day institution where students are actively studying. Russians love tradition and I'm all for some aspects of tradition myself, for example, the exclusive tour new students are given of Elena Fabianova Gnesina, our founder's, apartment. However, I can't help feeling that things like the teacher typing up questions she wants us to answer for the following lesson and printing a copy for each of us would make sense in order to not waste 30 minutes of precious lesson time writing out the questions as she dictates and another 15 while she figures out how to work the CD player.
There is a standardised educational system for all students, which means that we also have History, Psychology and IT on our schedules in addition to basic music subjects. I did initially get excited about IT, thinking I would become a photoshop warrior in no time at all. Surprise, surprise (or increasingly less so as the case may be), all was not what it seemed. IT in Russian is literally "modern computer science" (современная информатика - sov-re-men-aya in-for-mat-ika). I found it quite ironic that they feel the need to put the word 'modern' in there at all considering that nothing about the lesson or the room is modern by any stretch of the imagination. Old computers, a demo version of an old software that doesn't save your work, and a teacher in a similar state. A classic Soviet reminiscer, Putin-lover, and foreigner-hater - especially Asians and Americans: "American students are less clever so they wouldn't remember everything I said today, but you all will, of course," and "No point speaking to Asians in Russian, they barely understand English. They really need separate lessons and more of them." <-- coming from one of the most technologically advanced countries...
He also never ceases to remind us of his never-ending breadth of experience, qualifications, achievements and knowledge as well as ownership of all the Apple products with "Of course, I already know all this" and "Of course, I already have the new version at home" being regularly-preferred catchphrases.
He commented that "Russian students are the poorest in the world." I am no expert but use of the superlative, based on stories I have heard about students in South America and other Asian countries, might not be completeley accurate. However, I do appreciate that buying a laptop for Russians on an average salary can cost more than a month's wages. This makes quite the change coming from Bristol, where everyone seems to own a Macbook pro or equivalent, quite apparent. [I think I might be the only one here so I try to keep it on the lowdown.] People generally seem to have tablets a lot more than laptops as, I am assuming, it is a cheaper, more practical compromise. Where I am used to half the class typing furiously on laptops as the teacher shares his/her fountain of knowledge, notes here are always taken with a pen and paper during lesson times, with one exception. There was no hiding who's who in our lecture with have with the sound engineers, who were all taking notes on their tablets while some pianists didn't even have a piece of paper with them. Ooops.
I found it interesting that our IT teacher also felt the need to actually ask people to refrain from answering calls during the lesson - something that would never even be considered in the UK. It shows the kind of culture Russian society seems to have turned into over the last few years at an alarming rate. I would say that the phone culture here far surpasses the phone culture in Europe or in Canada. [I have mentioned it before but I am continuing to feel its effects more and more.]
Nothing, I repeat, absolutely nothing will stop a Russian answering their phone when it rings. My piano teacher is very high up the list for guiltiest culprit - texting while I play and leaving the room on several occasions to answer calls just as Sonata no. 5, Mvt.1 by Beethoven is about to reach the recapitulation. My harmony teacher has no qualms about leaving the perfect cadence unresolved, clashing with the key of her ringtone as she strolls across the classroom to pick up the phone. A well-known Russian director I went to see giving a masterclass with multiple TV cameras pointed at him stop mid-sentence as he answered to let the other person know that he "can't talk right now" because he's "giving a masterclass". A well-known Russian actor giving a press conference about a new film festival also made quite the scene up opening his flip phone as he picked up to let his caller know he was a bit busy. And the never ceasing phone conversations during film screenings. I must be missing something. Either Russian phones don't have the 'missed call' function or they don't have 'silent mode'. I can honestly think of no other explanation for this kind of behaviour.
I was warned that life in Moscow would be tough - especially after living in St. Petersburg. I rarely get ill and when I do it doesn't usually last for more than a couple of days. Second week in Moscow, I got ill and I'm still recovering. No amount of lemon, ginger and honey or grated onion* seems to be helping. This could explain the elements of the Russian character that can appear, at times, quite tough and brutal. It's the only way to get through the winter, that's for sure.
Although, the way people are treated on their birthday makes quite the contrast - as I learnt from the flood of messages that showered the first person in our year to have a birthday. Whereas in the UK, your birthday is an opportunity for your friends to get you as drunk as possible and/or dares to embarrass you or at least keep you in the spotlight all day. Russian birthdays are the opportunity for people to wish you a year full of happiness, joy, success, health, ambition, good friendships, and love to name a few. I can't quite decide which option is better...
I know which one I'm hoping for on my next birthday. The number of 20/21-year-old students that are married or living with partners and engaged is making me feel, dare I say it, quite old and, immersed in such an environment, I can't help feeling that my time is running out. No matter how quickly society is developing here, it is definitely still embedded in the mentality as a very important step for young people as a sign of success and a priority in terms of 'reaching adulthood' and becoming independent (from your parents at least).
Long days means I have a least been able to appreciate how magical Moscow feels late at night. I definitely think the city comes alive with the beautiful multi-coloured lights and a lot less traffic. People walk around without the stress of the working day and the centre of the city feels transformed.
I was reminded of walking around Rome with my mum on our last day there over ten years ago now and I can clearly recall the sensation of endless beauty and possibility that awaited me as we wandered the streets taking in the history and architecture one last time.
The transformation is similar to that of a snowfall. In England, life stops and cities becomes deserted - completely calm and tranquil. In Russia, it covers all the grime and dirt from the millions of car on the road. In both cases the cities become magical and timeless.
How different life is on this side of the world,
Lots of love,
A xx
*my flatmate from St. Petersburg's foolproof preventative
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| Dream soviet oven - 40-years-old and still works like a dream |
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| Sometime staying late to practise isn't so bad |
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| New pedestrianised area as Moscow finally tries to build a city for people and not for cars |
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| Moscow city lights |
