A Russian beating.

There are some traditions and practices in various cultures, which are very difficult to explain to someone who hasn't had the experience themselves. A Russian banya is no different. "It's just a sauna" people might say... and while it might look similar on first glance, the similarities end there.

A Russian banya is much more humid and so tends to feel hotter. This high heat/high humidity combination is supposedly very good for your health, especially your heart and lungs as well as blood flow and clearing toxins from the body. This is due to the way the room is heated. Stones are heated in a enclosed space, as opposed to the open stones that you see in a Finnish sauna, which allows them to get 3/4 times hotter. Furthermore, water is dumped over the stones and as it evaporates, the пар ('par' - steam) is produced ensuring high humidity - the key element. Being naked is a given, although hats are worn to prevent you from overheating. While going to the sauna in Europe and elsewhere might be considered a luxury, going to a banya is seen as a necessity for health and cleanliness. The tradition of going to a banya dates back centuries - to a time where Russians were much cleaner than their European counterparts! And so going to a banya is essentially not for relaxation but for cleansing, cleaning, scrubbing, purging, purifying and restoring; and a key part of this process is beating yourself or one another with branches generally made from birch or oak. The branches play a vital part in circulating the hot air and as a massage to stimulate extracting toxins from your skin. So people are actually generally quite 'active' as they go between beating themselves, beating others, having tea breaks and scrubbing. Afterwards, people will wish you a "с легкоим паром" ("s loh-kim pa-rom") meaning they hope you had a nice banya experience.

A friend told me about a young couple I recently met planning to move to the dacha they rented full-time for the summer. Having been there myself, the lack of running water crossed my mind and I asked how they would wash during the time they were there. "They have a banya there," was the answer I got, accompanied with a quizzical look for asking such an obvious question. Cleanse in the heat, scrub and dump a fresh bucket of water from the well over your body afterwards and you are good to go. There is no doubt that this centuries-old tradition is just as current as it ever was and, having seen a mother with her very young toddler in the public banya I went to, it is clearly something that is introduced from a very young age. My friend also explained that there are many communal apartments that still don't have bathrooms - and many with bath tubs in the kitchen - and so going to a banya is really without question.


So, still feeling a bit groggy from the winter, my mum was kind enough to invite me to join her for a luxury banya experience for two that she had been given as a present. Having only had one banya experience before, almost a year ago (with a group of friends in a small hut on the side of a small lake), I didn't know what to expect going to a luxury spa in the centre of Moscow.

I certainly didn't expect a very young, handsome male wearing a small towel around his waist to open the door to our private banya complex, complete with a table full of fruits, nuts, nibbles, compot and herbal teas for our 2-hour session. I certainly didn't expect having to be stark naked in front of this young, handsome man - "of course you have to be naked, it's a banya" - as I lay on the sauna bench while he beat us with oak branches (front and back) and scrubbed our skin with a mixture of honey and salt. And I certainly didn't expect the 2-hour session to end with lying on a marble table (still naked) in another room, with unbelievably bright lighting, while he used a hemp-like material to scrub clean - just soap this time - every inch of my rejuvenated and newly-purified skin. So that's how the other half live...I have always wondered.

Although I worry that I lost some of the 'purity' waiting at the bus stop for half an hour as they decided to close off the road just as we got to the stop. Unfortunately a daily occurrence in Moscow, which only adds to the constant heavy traffic, for anyone deemed "important" enough to merit such treatment. All cars are completely stopped and blocked off from the main roads to allow for a swift journey for the brigade of security cars, police cars and the car containing the VIP. This time we waited for a full 20-minutes before we saw the dazzling lights of the vehicles coming towards us in the distance. It is a wonderful excuse for being late to lectures though...

A month later, with no Easter holidays scheduled into our university timetable and a only one day off for May-bank holiday, I decided that a self-assigned holiday wouldn't do anyone any harm and I didn't hesitate to book the first train I could back to St. Petersburg. Nearly six months apart and it felt wonderful to be back - as is often the case, you have more appreciation for a place when you are only there for a restricted amount of time.

A friend mentioned that there was a public banya very close to the flat and I was keen to give it another go. Emphasis here must be made on the word 'public' and on the fact that this place cost 1/26 of the price of the luxury spa...

Mentally preparing myself on the way, I felt excited yet slightly apprehensive as I approached the entrance. No handsome, young males to open the door for me this time and, without the added awkwardness, strolling around naked felt wonderfully liberating and very natural. Trying to act cool as I opened the door to the banya, I quickly scanned the room for the ideal spot. It's safe to say, there are not many places in the world where you open the door to a room full of naked babyshka's wearing hats while beating themselves ferociously with branches. It's a shame that you can't take photos...! First time on my own in a banya and not realising that you are supposed to soak the branch in water before using it in the sauna, I was immediately identified as the novice and my lack of hat and body scrubbing materials only highlighted this. However, I beat myself with my bundle of the brunches the best I could and managed the plunge into the ice-cold pool more than once. On leaving at closing time (11pm) I heard a fellow bather bid a "see you tomorrow" to the woman at the front desk - it seems that for those with the time it is a daily ritual. When it costs £3.99 (CAN$7.05) for a 2-hour session or £1.33 (CAN$2.35) if you come before 5pm, it's hard to find a reason not to. As I made the 5-minute walk home, I felt unbelievably fresh and rejuvenated and vowed to find a local place when I get back to Moscow.
I am pretty much an expert now after all.


Happy bank holidays,

A xx

Coming out of hibernation and taking an afternoon to explore

Stunning beach an hour train ride from St. P 

The extension on the left is where you will find the kitchen and the banya - what more do you need...?

Waking up to a burning sensation on my neck and face from the morning sun - priceless.

All the great Russian Soviet composers seriously vibing and sticking to the rules; no smiling in photographs

Living Safely (БЖД)

I honestly cannot not recall how this came up in conversation, however, I very recently learnt that while Russians use the same word for foot and leg - нога (na-ga) - and for hand and arm - рука (roo-ka), they do however have words to distinguish different types of bogies. Hard - козявки (kaz-yav-kee) and soft - сопли (sop-lee). I have always said that a language reflects the people and their culture.

My experience tells me that this country's relationship with social media is still in its honeymoon period, as opposed to the UK where many people are looking to cut back the amount of time they are on social media and are generally quite private about what they share. Here, there is a trend for posting almost entire blogs posts as captions on Instagram, sharing extensive and private thoughts, asking questions for debates, using Facebook and VK (the Russian equivalent of Facebook) to complain about different organisational systems in Russia and, of course, CONSTANT selfies and taking photos in front of signs and buildings (although people seem to prefer having pictures taken on their own and no smiling of course). In light of International Women's Day, which here is a bank holiday, my attention was brought to businesses offering big bouquets of roses for rent. Why? So you can photograph yourself with the bouquet and post it on social media to "create jealousy in your ex-partners or interest in potential partners". For the equivalent of £11, you have up to 10 minutes to take the 'perfect photo' and for an extra fee you can have a car and a driver in a suit included (although not showing his face) and even a Tiffany or Gucci gift bag. I would prefer Chanel myself.

Into the second semester and a couple new subjects have been added to our timetable. Namely, 'Theory and Practice of Present-day Education' (Теория и пратика современного образования) and 'Living Safely' (Безопасность жизнедеятельности). Initially confused on seeing these subjects in my timetable, I later found out they were obligatory for all 1st years (including second-time 1st years like myself) and decided to try and keep an open mind.... 'Theory and Practice of Present-day Education' opened with asking any problems we had noticed with the educational system in Russia - I decided to keep quiet, fascinated instead by the 20-minute outpour from a fellow classmate, who manages to turn up to around half of the lessons and has probably said about three words during class time since the start of the year. The lesson ended just as amusingly with the teacher spending 5 minutes trying to pronounce 'Oakham School'. As of yet, I am still not quite sure as to what we are supposed to be learning in this module. 

'Living Safely' was quite the shock to say the least. With a teacher who treats us like 12-year-olds just learning to write and a 'point' system for passing the module - gold stars and bonus points awarded for participation in class and not looking at your notes when answering a question, we spent the first lesson listing the different types of 'extraordinary' events that can happen and which can cause danger to human life. For homework we were asked to find the definitions of 'danger', 'catastrophe', 'accident', fire and 'explosion' as well as watch of video of Hiroshima so we know what to expect. This module should have been called "Expecting the Worst" or "The numerous ways a human can unexpectedly find themselves in a dangerous situation and how to define and classify them"...! To quote Mr. Positive himself, "...you need to know the main things that can cause danger to you in everyday life, those which are specific to the region of Moscow...there are around 30 different types to be aware of." Among other things, we will also be learning to put on gas masks and recite the different wind speeds of a tornado or a hurricane - What are we being prepared for? Having these lessons from a young age at school through to university, no wonder Russians are so cheerful! [For mental balance, I would suggest also having lessons called "How to live a pleasant and enjoyable life."] 

In other news, for quite a while now I have been confused about people walking around with straws sticking out through the lid of their takeaway coffee cups. On treating myself to a coffee after yoga, I realised that lattes are served with straws! Plastic straws to drink coffee?! Now if that's not a situation that can cause danger to a human being that you experience in everyday life then I don't know what is. 

Mid-March and we haven't had snow since February and I'm down to only one pair of tights under my jeans...things are looking good!

Bye for now,

A xx

For the 24/7 flower dash

When you find secret hidden gems in the building where you study (well out of the way of dirty students)

Given to me in celebration of International Women's Day

Never-ending Moscow traffic

An early spring sunset

Bread with Tea and Jam.

I can't believe I have gone this long without mentioning the fact that Russians put jam in their tea.

Yes, my reaction was the same. As Maria very clearly states, tea is a drink you have with jam and bread, you don't have tea and jam with bread - surely that would just result in dry bread stuck in your mouth. I was recently confronted with this very issue on a 10-day residential course I did outside Moscow where the breakfast lay out placed the three pots of jam next to the sugar, lemon slices and endless boxes of herbal tea, as opposed to next to the bread and porridge where one would expect it and I proceeded to see others load spoonfuls of it into their cups. The next trick is then trying to figure out which jam is meant for which tea. When greeted with a selection of at least ten different various combinations of herbs, which are supposed to help you with this and that ailment, yet that all look very much like the same green, flowering plant on the front and with unrecognisable names, you can imagine the dilemma I found myself in. Especially having been promised that one of the teas was a very strong laxative - I didn't want to be caught unawares.* I only managed to recognise peppermint among the boxes, before digging out some black tea from the back and deciding to play it safe. The tea and breakfast excitement didn't end there as I was caught unaware by the boiling hot milk meant for my tea, which meant that I had to quickly recalculate the time required to wait for my ideal drinking temperature. I was further confused by the great vat of grated carrots peppered with rogue pieces of apple. For breakfast?! To be honest, there are grated carrots in everything here - it is after all the perfect accompaniment to beetroot, cabbage and potatoes.

It certainly is interesting to compare breakfast products in the various countries I have been to. I took advantage of being in Western Europe over the holidays and the fact that a plane ticket with Ryanair can cost less then a return train ticket to London and went to visit a friend in Madrid. Miles away from the world of grated carrots, the Spanish like to treat themselves to a very sweet pastry with freshly-squeezed orange juice or sugary churros dipped in melted chocolate. If that isn't every child's breakfast dream then I don't know what is. Not one to shun other cultures or ways of living, I was more than happy to oblige and found a great bakery called La Mallorquina - founded in 1894 ! - and it became my first stop every morning. A wonderful thing about Madrid is the metal plaques you will see everything now and then on the pavement outside a shop or business marking over 100 years of service. It means that in that very spot, the same business has been running (not necessarily the same family but selling the same produce/service) for at least 100 years and so can usually guarantee a certain degree of quality. What a brilliant way to keep smaller businesses going and for people to support those businesses. I learnt that keeping your eyes peeled to the floor can also help you find the best places to eat, according to the number of napkins littering the floor - throwing your napkin on the floor after finishing is seen as a sign of appreciation for the food. I tried to be as nonchalant as possible when I went to do it but felt a strange guilt for having created more cleaning up work for the owner. The few days gave me a wonderful taste of a life where there is sun all year round and temperatures stay above 0. Currently sitting in my room as I dread the -21°c awaiting me outside does make me wonder if I should rethink my choice of city. Although I don't know if I could stomach the amount of meat and sugar that seems to make up a large part of the Spaniards' diet. Living the la vida loca indeed.

Back in Moscow with a fresh load of supplies from a well-known English supermarket, my mouth and tongue muscles are slowly getting back into shape as they once again get used to working their way around the unnecessarily (in my opinion) long words. Language is always a reflection of the people and, in this case, it is certainly no different when comparing English and Russian ways of doing things and getting things done. Take a word like to 'chat' or 'talk', the Russian equivalent would be разговоривать (raz-ga-va-ri-vat), or 'sequence' in Russian would be последовательность (pass-le-daw-va-tel-nost), or to 'adapt' - приспосабливаться (pri-spo-sab-lee-vat-cia), I could go on. I'm not saying that it's not a beautiful language, in literature especially, but it also a wonderful reflection of life here. If everything takes twice or thrice as long to say, it also takes just as much longer to do. Such as topping up my transport card for the bus. Having asked at the metro ticket offices, where I could add the monthly fare for the buses to my pass, I was simply told repeatedly 'This is the metro', 'Yes, I know but the transport network is one big company so where could I get bus fares', 'I dunno - not here', 'Wonderful, thank you for your help.' Three months in and I finally managed to find out about a kiosk not far from my mum's place where I can do it. (Why there are no locations in the centre are beyond me.) Battling the windchill which makes it feel about 10 degrees colder, I finally located the brusk woman sitting in her little kiosk box in the street - only to realise she only takes cash. What's life without being kept on your toes for that little while longer, eh?
Transport always seems to crop up in my stories and this time is no different. Reaching the 10-day residential camp involved taking a train (elektrichka) 2 hours east of the city (although it still counts as the region of Moscow) to a place called Avsyunino. I spent the whole journey there wondering if I was on the right train and would have missed it, had they not announced the name just in the nick of time, as the platform consisted of a one long piece of concrete seemingly placed at random between the two tracks without any signage or information whatsoever. I was also very aware of the fact that my suitcase and I could easily fall through the gap between the train and the platform edge and was glad that long jump had been a strong point of mine at school - and I thought all those afternoons doing athletics wouldn't come in useful. I was later informed that this was quite common and my experience was repeated only yesterday as I went further out of the city to collect a clothing rail and found the 'exit' was getting off the platform and walking along side the tracks until you reached the main road. 
Making the most of the last few days before term starts, I have spent each morning at the arthouse cinema that is now right next door. No more mono-voice Russian dubbing over the top of the films for me! The morning tariff means I can see a film for the equivalent £1.36 (CAN $2.22) and thanks to the system of assigned seating they have in cinemas here, I can buy my ticket the day before and always ensure the best spot without having to sit through adverts beforehand. Though usually an evening activity, I find seeing a film in the morning much more productive as a great reason to be up early and it also means I don't fall asleep half way through. Exploring the new area, I found a new bakery down the street that has a morning coffee and croissant deal. Looks like I might have found myself a lovely new morning routine.
Mucho amor,
A xxx
*I found out at the end that it was this one, for anyone who's wondering: http://www.therighttea.com/senna-tea.html 

Driving in English countryside and see nothing for miles until we arrive to the top of a hill to find a pub and an overflowing car park - only in Britain

Rare experience of the English coastline (for me at least)

Someone appears to have missed the bin

Spanish "winter" in its full glory

In the 17th century, this hostel used to provide a hairbrush attached to the side a the bed and this was considered a huge luxury for nomads of the time

Direction unconfirmed

How to get fresh water when living the in the country 101

Just waiting on the platform in preparation for hailing down the next train to Moscow

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