A Russian Abroad: 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.