Lessons have begun and so far it's off a rocky start. We have two teachers - Tatiana and Ulsa - and my first impression is that they are both pretty darned fantastic. The first lesson was on Monday and it was actually... dare I say it... enjoyable. Tatiana complimented me a whole lot on my accent, saying that the English twang is practically undetectable. The years of imitating bond villains have clearly paid off. And there wasn't an awful lot that flew over my head, which is almost unprecedented in my Russian learning experience. The second and third lessons were somewhat trickier. In Durham, our lessons often consisted of a group of about 12 of us sitting in sort of semi-circle and we'd be asked questions from a worksheet or grammar book one by one. I developed a tactic to always sit in the middle so that I'd never be asked first. I'd count down the line to see which number I was, then count down to the corresponding question and frantically (but subtly) whip through my dictionary and my verb tables so that, by the time it was my turn, I could produce a seemingly spontaneously correct answer to my question. This is one of the reasons why the teachers at Durham didn't cotton on to the true extent of my ineptitude until it was probably too late. Unfortunately, this tactic doesn't fly when applied to a class of three students. There's no time to look anything up. There's nowhere to hide.
On Thursday the ladies in the university office organised a trip to a plane museum so we jumped in a mini bus together with the students from Belarus. We arrived at the museum which looked more like the sprawling back yard of an expert plane thief. I didn't understand a word the guide was saying (partly because I was so distracted by the massive hammer and sickle on his belt buckle) so I made do by making interested 'mmmhmmm' sounds at regular intervals. But the sun was shining and we were surrounded by freakin' massive planes and helicopters so it was still a very enjoyable afternoon. Due to a terrifying lack of health and safety regulations we were more than welcome to climb up onto the wing of a Concorde-esque jet and run around like small children with our arms out like wings. Naturally, we obliged.
Upon leaving we were stopped by the owner who was very keen to know what we thought of the museum and to test out his English on us. He told me that he was very pleased to meet a 'real English blondey lady' and that he saw his dreams reflection in my eyes. So that's nice. He then gave me his email address and told me I should email him when it's raining and I'm bored because he has an extensive LP collection which he'd like to show me. Who says the Russians aren't friendly?!
On Friday Andrew and I ventured to the beach, which I'd been reluctant to do on my own because it involves catching a Marshrutka. They're basically like a massive white van that's been gutted and then had some chairs bolted to the floor. You jump on and find a space to lodge yourself into (seats are not always for available) and then hand your fare to a complete stranger so it can get passed down to the driver who takes it and counts out your change as he drives. They drive at break-neck speed and you have to shout at the driver to get them to stop when you want to get off. Sounds safe, doesn't it? But we braved it and we made it there and back almost totally unscathed. Score 1 to us. And yesterday we did another brave thing - we went to the cinema. I had all my fingers and toes crossed that it would be subtitled but because it was an animation (Monsters University no less) it was dubbed. My heart sank and I donned my 3D glasses, expecting a boring and confusing couple of hours but I was pleasantly surprised by how much I understood (this can probably be put down to the fact that the film is partly aimed at little children, whose native language ability has only developed about as far as my Russia. But I'm still counting it as a victory).
It's been a far more active, far less lonely week. I met a couple more very friendly pilots who took me to try some traditional Russian borcsh (beetroot soup) and kvass (a drink made from fermented bread) both of which were (surprisingly) ridiculously tasty. And Richard introduced Andrew and I to his very lovely Russian friend who he knows having already spent time in Ulyanovsk in the spring. Yay, friends!
I'm still very unsure about how this Russian malarkey fits in to the bigger picture and what I should do in the long run but the plan is to take every day as it comes and hopefully an answer will present itself naturally in due course.
До встречи!
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