Code red: the jig is up

It's been a quiet week this week, mainly due to... wait... scrap that... WHOLLY due to the fact that I suddenly realised I had about five days in which to write a 1000 word essay. Normally I am the Queen of last minute essays. My laptop and I spent many a frantic night-before-deadline together last year in order to submit a passable 2000-3000 words the next morning so the prospect of 1000 words in five days should be nothing short of a luxury. But this was no normal essay. This essay required 1000 Russian words. Russian words put together in such a way as to coherently and intelligently describe an aspect of Russian culture. If physical torture had been offered as an alternative, I would've taken my chances on the rack.

Thus, Saturday, Sunday, Monday, Tuesday AND Wednesday were reduced to an essay filled blur. I consumed much tea and spent much time on the internet getting distracted by just about anything other than relevant, essay based research, as is compulsory for students everywhere. I also managed to spend the best part of two hours cutting out little pieces of paper with the letters of the Cyrillic alphabet written on and sticking them to the corresponding key on my laptop with blue tac. Of course, once accomplished the typing became much easier so let's call it an investment rather than a last-ditch, desperate attempt at procrastination. Ahem. Then on Thursday morning I woke up, gave it one last look over (which proved absolutely futile considering I'd already forgotten what about 99% of the words meant, having relied almost entirely on my Russian dictionary to provide the content) and sent it off to Durham. And I was free once more.

On Thursday afternoon we went to a little photography museum in the town centre as part of an excursion organised by the international office. The university runs a two week summer school for foreign students so there are quite a few students from China and Germany here at the moment. The trips are technically arranged for them but we've managed to muscle in on the itinerary. I wasn't sure what to expect of the photography museum but it turned out to be a jolly delightful afternoon. First of all we were shown an exhibition detailing how they took photos in the old days (before instagram - can you even imagine). Then we were ushered into a room and shown how to make a photographic image with just a flash-light and photography paper. For this to work successfully, we were plunged into darkness and all of sudden, standing in the pitch black with a twenty strong group of international students, I was hit by a bolt of panic and terror - this is it. This is the end. This whole 'photography museum' exercise has just been an elaborate set up by the Russian government to get us into a darkened room and do away with us. Then they fired up a red lamp and I came to my senses and stopped being dramatic and made a pretty picture with the photographic paper. After that we were offered the chance to don some old-timey garb and pose for photos. As a chronic fancy dress aficionado, I was the first volunteer and I think it's safe to say I've found my new look:

On Saturday we rose bright and early and headed out with the same group to a big air show in the part of the city that lies on the other side of the Volga. I think that it was some sort of anniversary or commemoration of some sort of aviation thing or something but never quite figured out who, what or why. Suffice to say, there was a lot of plane based activities going on. Our first stop was the plane factory, which is one of the main landmarks of the city and at one point would've been the mainstay of its economy. We piled out of the mini bus - an international melting pot of German, British, Chinese and Russian students - and went to queue for tickets. Anna, one of the ladies from the international office who was with us, was speaking to the ladies at the desk for quite a while before coming over and telling us that they weren't going to let us in because they were worried we might gather sensitive information and report back to our respective nations. We all laughed but Anna remained straight-faced and assured us that it was no joke. They had genuinely turned us away. They thought we were spies. Spies. In Ulyanovsk. At this point we laughed even harder and commando-rolled our way towards the exit. I still don't know what's more worrying - the fact that they think their plane factory holds information worthy of reconnaissance, or the fact that they assume that spies come in the form of a giggling gaggle of teens and twenty-somethings. Aside from this hilarious mishap the day went smoothly and very enjoyably, culminating in a show from Russia's answer to the Red Arrows. 

And so ends another week in Ulyanovsk! The year abroad time-space continuum is continuing to work in strange and mysterious ways, with each week passing even quicker than the last. I'm sort of hoping it'll let up and slow down a bit next week though because, I don't mind telling you, I have a hot date in Moscow. Watch this space. 

BYE!

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