Strange questions for a strange gal.

For some reason, the colder and darker it gets the less frequent the buses are. Thankfully, the weather is being kind and it hasn’t gotten too cold...yet. Hovering above zero degrees with blue skies, even if we did have an afternoon sprinkle of snow the other day, it's pretty warm for November so I can’t complain. 

With it being a bank holiday yesterday and today and lectures being cancelled, I have been able to spend the evening writing this sat in the window of a nearby cafe. (I still spent the day at the piano, don't you worry.) I found myself reflecting on the name of yesterday’s national holiday - The Day of National Unity. A holiday that was celebrated up until the 1917 revolution and again from 2005. I have found myself wondering about the importance of a country having such a holiday. As far as I am aware, there is no equivalent in England - if anything St. Patrick’s day is ironically more unifying there than anything else - whereas, in Canada, I would say that Canada Day is the day that really brings the nation together - this year I felt well and truly unified as I sang the Canadian national anthem dressed in red and white in a country music bar on the west coast. However, to an extent, in a country that is often misunderstood and misrepresented, and where the majority of the population tend to feel alienated from ‘progressive’ Europe, a holiday of national unity might be just what the people need. I would say that England could definitely do with one given the current situation there. It’s not a question of being patriotic or not, and it’s not a question of unifying against anything else. It’s purely the idea of respect for each other - seeing that we are not that different from one another. Respect for cultural traits you share and a common origin and history that defines many parts of the way a nation lives. 

One the funnest - please take this slightly sarcastically - things about living here and being the only English person (and one of only a few Europeans) studying at Academy is that people seem to find me curiously fascinating… not because I’m particularly interesting but more in a stranger/alien-kind of way. People always seem to have a favourite question to ask me, from “Why are you here? We want to go to Europe and you’ve decided to come here and stay, why?” when I first arrived, to asking why my "rubbish” is washed and separated, leading on to “Why do you recycle?”. From “How do you live without meat? What do you eat?” [I recently created a new Instagram account - in Russian - to deal with this one], and the classic “Why do you drink your tea with milk?” to asking if everyone in England talks like they do in Peaky Blinders and how I describe Russia to my friends when I go back. 

Oddly enough, the new favourite stems from COMPLETE confusion about my having a double-barrelled first name. It seems to cause so many issues, which is especially bizarre considering I have been studying with the same people for two years now… why have they only started questioning this now? My favourite is “Why did your mum call you that?” - if anyone can come up with a brilliantly witty reply to this question (baring in mind the less subtle Russian humour) there are tickets to my first solo concert up for grabs. [No set date for this as of yet, but some time in future I can assure you.] 

Russian names do have a fairly standard format that, for reasons as of yet unbeknown to me, no one seems to deviate from; you have your first name, your patronymic name and your surname. Whereas in the UK and in Canada* the number of middle names is limitless with the standard being around 1 or 2, I have yet to meet a Russian that has a middle name in addition to their patronymic name. In my case, as names are shortened with people younger than you or people you are familiar with, the confusion then comes from people not knowing whether to called me Sasha (from Alexandra) or Masha (from Maria). The variations of Sasha, Masha, Sashamasha, Mashasasha, Alexandramasha (I could go on) that I get are endless. 

The beauty of this shortening of names means that are several variations on someone’s name that can be used in different situations to show various degrees of formality, informality, affection and/or annoyance. Informally, Maria can become Masha, Mashka, Mashenka, Maryusa; Ekaterina becomes Katya, Katyusha, Katka. Then you have the ones that I find quite baffling, which are not shorter than the original or, for that matter, very similar to the original such as Vladimir - Volodia, or Natalia - Natasha. However, go for formality and things become much trickier. The confusion for me really starts in having to remember two names for everyone, and then making sure I get them the right way around. When I first moved, I could never remember if my piano teacher was Vladimir Pavlovich or Pavel Vladimirovich. Was my Head of Department Sergei Evgeniovich or Evgeni Sergeevich? What was really rather amusing for my fellow classmates was a source of constant stress and worry and add to that the issue of pronunciation - try saying Tatiana Anatolievna or Aleksandr Artemovich in a Russian accent in a hurry. This way of addressing any one older than you or to whom you would need to show respect means that you can guarantee that you're dealing with a name of at least 5 syllables from the get-go. A far cry from the monosyllabic Daves, Bob's, James's, or John's of yesteryear. Although Bob Bobobvich does has a certain ring to it. 

Lots of love from,

Sashamashaalexsamashka xxx 



*I cannot speak for other countries but will very willingly take comments on board and make any necessary additions.

beautiful tactics by the Mosfilm Film Studio
 to avoiding a parking ticket

beautiful autumn (before they cleaned the leaves up..
workers get paid by the bag to clean up leaves!
Unfortunately, it's an ongoing battle...)

beautiful embassy of Brazil
around the corner from academy

beautiful organ in one of the main
(and my favourite) concert halls in Moscow;
where I somehow managed to convince
the administrator to give me a free ticket for a 
6th row seat to a sold-out concert..

Feeling Raf and Ready.

Back to Moscow, back to real life and the smell of pine tar in my trousers from an August spent sauna-building*, which I got sick of at the time, now puts a smile on my face as it transports me instantaneously back to the paradise that holds such a strong place in my heart and where I spent such a beautiful two months. Although, the weather here has been absolutely glorious and if I didn’t know better I would say that summer is only just beginning. 

I’ve just spent the last couple hours re-reading old Russia posts during my time here. So many things about living here still surprise me that I wanted to make sure I wasn’t repeating myself… apart from talking about croissants in at least four posts, it seems I’m in the clear. 

[I must admit that even now my day is orientated around when I get my daily breakfast of a coffee and croissant, and that I can rank the best coffees and croissants within a 10-minute walking radius of the academy, depending on your favourite flavour. I’ve always been someone whose day is brightened by even the smallest of moments; I find it very comforting that the guy at my favourite coffee place near academy (57p/98¢ for a cappuccino on par with an Italian one) not only remembers my order but also remembers I get it without a plastic lid. You’d be surprised but one thing Russians really do know how to do is good coffee. They have even developed their own type of coffee adding a favourite Russian ingredient that is present in much of what they eat - sugar. The phenomenon of “Raf” coffee (pronounced ‘rough’) took me a while to figure out but recently I finally saw one being made… One shot of espresso and a shot of sugary syrup of your choosing (salted caramel or lavender seems to be favourite around here) topped to the brim, baring in mind they are only sold in medium or large sizes, with frothy cream. Yes, not milk, CREAM. SINGLE CREAM. You are drinking 350ml or 450ml - well minus 20ml for the coffee - of sugar and frothy single cream. GOOD MORNING MOSCOW. Super-charged and ready to roll.] 

Anyway, one post dated 6th December 2015, titled “Stereotypes” made me laugh: 

“I am told that in Moscow the pace of life is even faster. You can have ten meetings a day in various parts of the city (which nearly doubles the area of London) and still have time for dinner and film in the evening!” 

How little did I know that I would end up living in Moscow for what will be almost 4 years…and that Moscow is exactly as I described it: busy and non-stop. I plan my days to the half-hour to fit in as much as possible as I try to make the most of this vibrant, culturally very dynamic, beautiful metropolis I live in and I find it gives me the push to do even more. Daily physiotherapy means taking the bus past academy through the centre every morning and I don’t think I will ever tire of getting that prized window seat on the way in as I ride past the Bol’shoy Theatre on my left, and Red Square and the Kremlin on my right. 

Although… the city does tend to have a way of really keeping you on your toes and even the very experienced Moscovite can be caught unawares. Often even the most well, tightly-planned days end up being the ones where you spend a lot of time running (not literally) around the city but getting very little done. Traffic, lack of centralised organisation within institutions and lots of people not really knowing what they’re talking about as well as quite a few that just can’t be bothered to do their jobs are amongst some of the factors that are generally to blame. Oh and traffic. Did I mention that? When the 6+ lane roads were built through and around the centre of Moscow, cars were few and far between but now it seems they weren’t built quite wide enough. Luckily, free Wifi for all on all public transport means that you can always keep people up-to-date on your whereabouts - listening to someone trying to have a phone conversation while riding in a very noisy metro carriage never fails to be entertaining. 

(Here, I suggest you refer back to the ‘Moscow Mule’ post about Russians not being aware of the ‘missed call’ function on their phones: http://arussianabroad.blogspot.com/2016/10/ ) 

Having said that, the city is becoming steadily kinder to its citizens and it’s amazing how much she continues to change and modernise at an alarming pace. Some things, such as all the signs in the metro being updated to also contain station names and exit signs in English, were understandably done for the World Cup. However, the new quiet metro trains with charging ports and interactive map-screens point to an exciting future with technological aspects in the city being far ahead of its European counterparts. In an attempt to change the Russian mentality of outdoor space just being a means to get between home and work and to encourage its citizens to enjoy outdoor public areas and the city they live in, outside spaces are transformed with the seasons and various public holidays. This last month saw a maze of plants, shrubs and trees brought in along Новый Арбат (Novey Arbat - the main street near my academy) with kiosks selling second-hand books for 100 roubles (currently £1.14/CAD$1.96) scattered among the greenery: a wonderful site in the centre of Moscow separating pedestrians from a very, busy road. Various giant swings and hammocks have been hung in a few key squares and streets throughout the city, while a variety of light-up structures pop up regularly inviting a wave of very similar-looking Instagram pictures but very much fulfilling their purpose. These installations range from sparkling mini Red Squares to a 100-metre long star-shaped tunnel of light, from grass animal sculptures to mini climbing walls in the shape of letters spelling out street names. 

colourful beanbag hangout 

Some institutions in the city do seem to be taking longer to play catch-up, my academy included. A decision to drastically change our curriculum, taking away a number of so-called ‘useless’ subjects and adding a couple new ones, four days after this academic year had already started reminded me that organisation here still leaves a lot to be desired and not all parts of Russian society are developing as quickly as others. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised when the library catalogue is still very much 'analogue' with index cards typed individually (seemingly on a typewriter) and sorted into tens of little wooden drawers and stacked along the wall of the reading room in the back corner of the questionably-built mansard. Getting something from the library (the door optimistically marked “library” opens up to a metre-squared space to stand in at a counter with two women behind it) involves filling out a slip with your book request while the librarians find your flimsy library ID card from a filing cabinet behind them and just picking a due date from the calendar hanging on the wall. It turns out I’m such a geek these days that one of the librarians knows me by name and regularly greets me in the hallway and outside academy (though I find this mildly crossing the line).

mysterious door leading to the 'bibliotek'

inside the mysterious 'bibliotek'

However, we recently found out that this lack of central, official system in academy can be absolutely played to our advantage. Exams for non-performance subjects are down to the teachers and certain teachers are known for being stricter than others. While Philosophy, History of Art and Aesthetics are generally feared for being almost impassible on the first try with a huge number of requirements from teachers before you even get to the exam, some teachers are much more flexible and simply require attendance. This was the case with a new subject recently added to our timetable, where the teacher asked how many lessons we thought would be necessary as the minimum attendance requirement to pass the course with an автомат (av-to-mat; automatic pass). What a wonderful system when the students can decide the minimum attendance rate. When he later asked the (in retrospect perhaps rhetorical) question on how to make students want to study of their own accord, being the keen student I have now become, I piped up that all the teacher needed to do was to find an interesting way to talk about the subject. His reply of “well, it’s hard to make this subject interesting” got a laugh from the class but made us realise we should have suggested a much lower minimum attendance rate…At least I’m already 50% of the way there.

Chat very very soon…exciting projects coming up, which I look forward to sharing with you. 

Masha xx 

*(technically баня-buildling pronounced ban-ya)

Time.

This is now my 3rd winter in Russia (I have stayed much longer than I originally planned), yet I still get excited as ever when heavy snow starts to fall and cover the city in a glistening blanket of white, transforming it into a magical wonderland before your eyes. I still look on in astonishment as hoards of workers in head-to-toe bright orange arctic gear appear as if from nowhere within minutes, like ants after a storm, snow shovels in hand - they have been waiting and this is their moment. I feel like a child as a I get a kick from hearing the roar of the 20-long line of industrial-sized snow ploughs, tearing through the main roads of central Moscow leaving a wall of snow in their wake, and as they pass I look on with a huge grin on my face. Within days, courtyards, pavements and roads are cleared, huge piles of snow on street corners are loaded into dump trucks and taken out of sight, and life in Moscow ploughs steadily on without even batting an eyelid.

A couple days later, white snow clouds lighten the night sky and you know you're in for a treat.

Although, that's not to say that I'm a big fan of cold climates. I once again took advantage of having January off to get as far south as my bank account would allow and I ended up spending a couple weeks in Italy. Five years after I first fell in love, my heart is never far from the wonderful country. I had only been to Rome twice before for short, touristy trips and I was intrigued to see how "living" there would compare with Bologna. Admittedly, after so much time in Russia, it took me a few days to adjust to the pace of life - very relaxed - and to afternoon closing times between lunch and dinner. When expressing my surprise that a local store that had clearly said "open all hours" was closed when I stopped by in the evening, my friend explained that that simply meant it was open during napping hours in the afternoon... I soon had the main stops on the two metro lines memorised and I learnt to not trust "arrival times" at metro stations or bus stops - Italian minutes seem to have a funny way of being able to last anything between 50 and 150 seconds.

Joking aside, I was reminded of two important messages I had long forgotten since moving away. Family and Time.

The people I met working at the recording studio next door to where I was practising every day were shocked to hear I was planning to come in on Sundays. "What about family day?" they asked. "You shouldn't be practising on a Sunday...it's a day of rest and for spending time at home with your family." With a family that travels and works constantly and living in a city that never sleeps and where working days can easily be 12 hours long, I had to take a minute to let it sink in and then quickly try to explain myself... "in Russia, blah blah blah". Not surprisingly, my explanations were met with looks of amusement and disbelief.

A common and popular conversation topic between people from different countries is often stereotypes. During the first of a few magical al fresco lunches in the magnificent Roman winter sun I was treated to while I was there, this topic came up and I was asked if it was generally assumed that Italians never do any work. A smile in response answered the question for them, but I was quick to add, that with weather and food like they have, who's to blame them? Later that afternoon, I took a quick break from playing and walked into the next room to find everyone (six or so men) standing around chatting without a care in the world - I did a coffee round and joined in, trying to catch on to their Roman lingo. As one of the them was about to leave, I joked as kindly as possible: "and they say that Italians never do any work..". Putting his helmet on, he smiled, looked me in the eyes and said, "I don't live to work, I work to live."

The general concept of Time is that we have lots of it, but it is also precious and every minute should be enjoyed. Whether that be having an espresso with friends, relaxed lunch breaks in the winter sun, making that effort to pick some fresh chilli's from the garden for lunch, taking that detour to stop by the best place for pistachio croissants, working half-days to spend time with your family or taking time out of your busy teaching day to introduce a newcomer to fellows colleagues and musicians, it is about really respecting the time we are given. When I tell people my age at academy in Moscow, they frown and and give me a look of concern, commenting that I'm quite late on in the game and instilling in me a great sense of urgency to press on. In Italy, people smile with hope and anticipation, telling me how I'm young and I have so much time ahead of me. This concept of using every moment, relishing it and appreciating it whether it be work- or play-related is a message I was grateful to have been reminded of.

Back in Russia, I am more appreciative than ever of reliable public transport and 24h shops, however, I'm also doing what I can to keep those pieces of Italy with me.

(This may or may not include cooking pasta on an almost daily basis and constantly bugging my friends to send me pistachio croissants* and gelato).

More frequents posts to come from now on (I promise)...and a website and some music in the making.

Ciao for now,

A-M xxx 


*though croissants are technically french, a 'cornetto' is Italian and a 'cornetto a pistachio' even more so. 

This ceiling fresco in Villa Borghese took my breath away (and get me sever neck pain) and I haven't stopped thinking about it since.

The best lunch 5€ will buy you - a regional 'mini-pizza' called a pinsa. 

0 km farm produce at your service.

Start your day the right way.

River and canal walking in St. P - the perks of cold winters.