Divide and conquer...

It's been a couple of days now since my last post. I've spent that time away from the classroom and focused on filling in the blanks where my knowledge of the city is concerned. Geographically that has involved splitting the map into four and trying to focus on navigating my way round each quarter. So far I've explored the northern half, yesterday to the East as far as Smolny - with its impressive cathedral complex and revolutionary centre thats isolated enough from the metro system to feel it in my legs afterwards - and today through the trio of islands to the West that include the real greenery of the city and the summer dachas of the richer sort.

I've had a thoroughly enjoyable day in fact. Covering a fair distance and a lot of bridges, I travelled by the metro to the northern most point (Chyornaya Rechka) of my journey and then worked my way down. Crossing first to Kamenny Island, I followed this round to the sight of Yelagin to the east - opting not to cross over what looked like a tolled bridge - and then south to the largest of the three, Kretovsky. I cut short my exploration there however, there was a lot of development work going on after the end of the summer season and my sights were set back towards the centre and a visit to the 'Kirov Museum'.

This really was a wonderful place to spend a few hours. The museum itself is a little difficult to find, there's a clear enough sign in English on the outside of the building but you then need to climb to the fifth floor for the ticket office before returning to the fourth for the first exhibition space. A lovely restored view of this key figure in the Stalinist regime - both in life and then in death as a saintly hero of the revolution - and his apartment awaits. The curators, a collection of kindly old ladies, were wonderful, welcoming me through to their domain, complimenting my Russian and generally fussing to make sure all the lights were on and I was able to navigate my way through each room in the correct order. Although the translated notes that accompanied each room in the apartment were faultless and reminiscent of the material to be found in the Museum of Political History, when it came to the individual examples of his writing, photo descriptions and other artifacts further on, my Russian is still whoefully inadequate.

Returning to the fifth floor there is also an additional exhibition currently showing artifacts and images from children during the Soviet period. Its themed around school and rationing and proved equally fascinating. As I signed the guest book one of the curators asked if I could offer assistance in deciphering the correct pronounciation of 'vehicle' in English. (Giving a good indication of why the translated notes had proved so good) Happy to oblige I was also pleased to be able to support the museum by buying a program in both Russian and English for a few roubles to see about improving my own language skills in retun.

My last little excursion involved crossing back to Nevsky Prospect and - after re-fueling with a little coffee and cake from my favourite store with the blue sign - calling into an antique store I'd been introduced to by Nastya on one of our practice lessons. There I'd come across an old Soviet childrens book from the 1950's. In wonderful condition it was full of little colour pictures, stories and handwriting practice. Unfortunately at 3000 roubles its a little out of my price range but I thought I should put my language skills to the test and use it as an exercise in speaking. Though I came away without the book, my interest was rewarded with by the opportunity to view a selection of other similar books, not in quite the same condition but which might prove a suitable alternative. I'm not sure. I left with the hope I might return tomorrow.

до завтра!

All change...

I'm still a little shell-shocked after last nights send off at the local bar. (For those coming to the end of their two week cycle and heading home today) The antics of the local population were largely the same as last week though we stayed long enough to see a flaming bar and firing breathing added the repertoire of circus entertainment.

After waking up in the early afternoon (I'm telling myself it was more due to the mental fatigue of study than the alcohol the night before...) I was offered the opportunity by Bart the course co-ordinator to move across to a single room in the next door apartment. Since I'd be here for a week with only one class remaining from this course I thought it would be nice to get a little space to myself.

That space has actually turned out to be pretty impressive. Its clearly a recently refurbished site with large rooms and good facilities. Its going to be a shame to leave the old apartment behind, I was getting quite used to it and could forgive its student-living sized proportions. Left again to my own devices I'll now need to work out how to best spend this week. I'm still toying with the idea of a train trip out to Moscow and back. Its going to be a question of time and expense though. I may head down to the station tomorrow to look at the logistics, though my teacher has recommended where to go when it comes to tickets.

At the end of the day I still feel I've got a lot left to see in the city of St Petersburg. (And surrounding area if I were to trek out Pushkin for example...) I think I may have to at least take advantage of the metro system and see what happens when I start hopping off at random stations...

You can tell a lot about a place by its Lenin...

In contrast to the vocal, gesturing figure that welcomes the noise and activity of the gateway to the city at Moscovskiy Prospect, the statue of Lenin that sits on Bol'shoy Prospect seems content with a quieter pace of life. This is the first time I've hopped off the metro just one stop from my adopted home of Primorskaya and the contrast is surprising between this almost 'suburban' district and both the endless high-rise apartments of home and the general hussle and bussle of the centre.

The buildings are less imposing around the streets of this main boulavard, its a pleasure to be able to hear oneself think (and talk as I was joined by my tutor for this final practical lesson) as we walked around the sights. We didn't make it as far as the banks of the Neva, but eventually retreated to a little cafe to continue the lesson and give me chance to expand my knowledge of a little more colloquial Russian.

From one day to the next...

I realise I'm behind on a couple of days posting. To be fair at this stage in the course, my days are beginning to blur one into the next. I thought my previous introduction to study in the city was intense but that was before I was faced with the prospect of afternoon practical lessons following a full mornings theory in the classroom.

Its often only the following morning, when through sleep my head has a chance to organise all I've absorbed, that I begin to appreciate what I've learnt. At times of course it can feel that all the new stuff is simply pushing out the old stuff, but thats inevitable with the complete immersion in the language I'm experiencing.

In this absence from updating, I've neglected to mention a visit to the Russian ballet, an experience that didn't quite match the sumptuous display of setting and sound at my first visit to the Russian opera but was nevertheless memorable. To be fair we opted for cheap student tickets and a less prestigious venue than the Mikhailovsky theatre - which was enjoying the opening of the new season and proved inaccessible at such short notice - though we took advantage of the opportunity to shift across to a better view as the lights went down. What else could we opt for than 'Swan Lake', the perfect introduction, which for me was as memorable for the music as the athletic dancing on display.

I can only conclude by saying if you're in the city, go, find a ticket vendor (lining Nevsky Prospect, they're not hard to find) and pay as much as you can afford. (Whether that's £8 or £80!) Its amazing to think the level of access that can be enjoyed here in contrast to the expense you'd find in England.

Passing for a native...

So it does look like if I just keep my mouth shut I can pass for a Russian. I barely had time to nod in agreement to the cashier - returning to the 'The State Museum of Political History of Russia' for todays practice lesson - as she asked my tutor and I if we were students, by which of course she meant Russian students, when she offered up the tickets for entry. I wasn't going to correct her and lose the free admission.

I've described my experience of this museum in a previous installment so I won't expand much further on its earlier glowing review. This trip was both an excuse to practice my Russian on the subject of the country's history and politics and a chance to finish my tour of the museums exhibitions. I'd yet to see the extensive range of artifacts on the Civil War (unfortunately lacking in the generally commendable provision of English translations found here) or Lenin's study and temporary housing of the party in the interim between the February revolution and 'July Days' of 1917 when Lenin and his fellow Bolsheviks could enjoy temporary respite from persecution. Both on the second floor they were also joined by what appeared to be a temporary exhibition on the opening month of the Second World War and the division (and destruction) of Poland by German and Soviet forces.

Returning to the theme proposed by the title of todays post, I was also introduced to an important insight into the culture of the Russian language during the mornings class. The prevalance of the 'passive construction' in every day speech - terminology that was unfortunately lost on me initially in English never mind the Russian equivalent...damn state schooling! - derives from a Russian mentality that seeks to avoid "responsibility" at every opportunity.

On a practical level this has allowed me to understand the significance of constructions such as 'можно' ("It is possible") that dominate my early experiences of the language. This extends much further though and offers the opportunity to essentially remove the subject (you or I) from the action, i.e. 'who' is responsible for 'what'. Suddenly "I want" becomes something closer to "It is desirable to me". The significance isn't immediately visible until you begin (one begins to?) to think about making demands of another Russian. "Can you close the door?" becomes "Could the door be closed, by you?" reminiscant of the convaluted ways of speech possible in the interest of English politeness.

Anyway I Googled the phenomenom after class and came up with this telling article on the logical conclusion it can reach. Revealing stuff! Unfortunately it does mean I face the prospect of an infinitely larger workload if I'm to speak like a Russian and not just look like one!

"Все для фронта, все для победы"

Yesterday I finally got to scratch my Soviet itch again! Travelling across the city by metro to the end 'Московская Проспект' we were met by Nastya for a group excursion. Aiming for what is the southern gateway into the city we were greeted by the sight of the 'Monument to the Heroic Defenders of Leningrad' (To give it its full title).

However before all that, I headed northwards just a few blocks to the site of what was to be the new central square of the city - if the Soviets had had their way and the natives not stubbornly refused to take any notice - where I finally got to see my first Lenin statue. After being presented with a wooden box when I travelled across to Finland Station back in April it was great to finally see the old man himself. He still cuts quite a dashing figure, doffing his cap to city before him.

The square in which he stands, indeed much of the surrounding area is dominated by Soviet architecture. Though I'm not sure the conversion of one of the most striking Soviet landmarks I've seen thus far into a business complex / bank stays particularly true to its socialist heritage. Ah well, the times they are a changing...

I stuck around long enough to take a few photos and admire the fountains, where yet another wedding party was stood around posing for photographs. (A regular sight this trip around the city, we were even given chance to watch a 'mock' ceremony in the Kazan Cathedral on our last excursion that apparently follows the official joining for those willing to pay for the priveledge!)

Returning to the group, the monument required just a short walk through a subway that crosses beneath the busy roundabout above. The sound of sombre classical music - which unfortunately this uncultured ear couldn't identify - fills the broken ring representing the blockades one hope for supply and evacuation during the 900 days of the siege, 'The Road of Life'. Its worth reading the history of those events in advance as there is no English translation within the small exhibition hall that accompanies the site and we were reliant on our translater to understand the significance of the artifacts in front of us. (That said, a display case containing a number of small Soviet artifacts - where one party members richochet damaged medal and anothers identity book with added bullet hole - were pretty self explanatory in understanding the chances of survival were as much a question of luck)

There is also a short video presentation - without dialogue - that provides a glimpse of the horrors of the siege and numbing effect the daily sight of the dead and dying from the effects of hunger and constant bombardment had on the population. In all it was quite an effecting visit. I'm determined to see the museum of the blockade in the centre of the city to gain a more complete picture of events.

Finally, for someone obviously interested in learning the language one interesting point raised by Nastya was the significance of the language that adorned the walls of the monument. Full of 'Soviet speak' she explained how the significance of its content and the imagery it intended to convey was all but lost to those of her generation. It is only her parents and her grandparents generation that continue to interpret those words with meaning, whereas the children born after any real impression of the Soviet regime could be made on them see them just as empty words.

...in Russia the party finds you!

After opting to chase the last bit of sunshine of the day with a run last night I returned to the apartment feeling pretty re-energised and joined a couple of my fellow students for what we thought would be a quiet drink to end the week. Forgetting it was Friday night, we sat and talked over a few drinks in one of the local bars only to be treated to a view of proceedings as the local population came to unwind after a busy week at the office.

I don't think any of us were confident enough to join the festivites at this stage in our Russian education, but the entertainment was not your average night on the tiles in the UK. At one point we were provided with a circus act in the middle of the dancefloor, our own little 'circ de soleil', with a "cloud swing" (Thank you Google) artist entertaining the crowds.

The music too was an eclectic mix, part Russian, part trashy Euro-pop, part obscure pop-culture references. The video above is from an old Soviet child's choir performing in the 70's. I remembered coming across it on YouTube when it appeared over the soundsystem and was greeted by cries of delight from the crowds. Anyway we left as the natives were probably just warming up but we may risk a return visit sometime in the future.

На здоровье!