Happy Halloween

Two down one to go! Tonight should be interesting as Nastya and I will attend our final Halloween party. Georgia, (American expat), is holding an authentic American Halloween party and I am very interested to what all the fuss is about. It should be a little different from the previous Russian style celebrations, all though from the sounds of things major intoxication is the common theme. As for me, I am in need of a serious detox, and so have opted for the diver tag. In Russia there is a zero tolerance policy so there is absolutely no chance of those one or two beers turning into 3-10. Nastya is also starting her first day at work tomorrow and she is not too keen about turning up there hung-over. All in all it should be an interestingly sober experience.

The E.F. teachers ready to party Halloween style!

Of to another party the following night.

US and Russian Cultures Mixed.

The wind outside is howling once again. Dark clouds are creeping back over the once blue sky. The signs are ominous for another snow storm, and just in time as Halloween is on it's way. Normally as an Australian, Halloween comes and goes with barely an eyebrow being raised. You might get the odd egg thrown on your roof or the very random car being wrapped in toilet paper, but that's really as far as it goes. Anyway, it doesn't have to be Halloween for those things to happen, for some youngsters that's about as exciting as it gets on a Friday or Saturday night. Here in Vladivostok the popular American holiday has been borrowed, it seems permanently, as the whole city seems to be griped with Halloween fever. Telling the locals that we don't celebrate Halloween in Oz is usually met with some very surprised expressions. Bloody Yankee pop culture, it's everywhere! I tell you, it's often hard to explain that there are other English speaking countries without American culture and traditions.
This weekend sees just about all the night clubs having Halloween themed nights, shop windows are decked out with ghoulish decorations, people are rushing around organizing costumes and there are Halloween parties scheduled all over the place. We're off to one tonight and one tomorrow!
That's tonight, however yesterday was also an interesting experience as I had the privilege of visiting the Russian version of our very efficient Department Of Transport. Are all Departments of Transport tarred with the same brush? I think we all know how pleasant a trip to the local at Greenslopes or Sherwood is. You just about need to have a half day off work! Here in Russia, you may as well take your annual leave, all at once! That is unless you know someone. Yesterday we had to register and pick up the plates for the CRV. What greeted us as we drove into the car park was complete anarchy. A sea of cars parked every which way waiting for checks and whatever else, drivers who could not enter yelling abuse, drivers who were now parked in yelling even more abuse and absolutely no resemblance of order. Luckily for us we had the connections to bypass all the chaos and jump the queue. Now, back home this would be a complete outrage, fists would no doubt have flown. Here not a word was said, just a few evil looks passed our way. Nastya's explanation - "you never know who might be jumping the queue."

"XX" WORK!

Finally, after nearly 2 months of verbal ping pong we have defiant written conformation. Nastya will start work with "XX" (British auditing and consulting firm ) on November the 1st. It has been quite an ordeal. Russian organisation is slow and methodical at the best of times, however, Nastya's application process for the job with "XX" was excruciatingly laborious. After finally being invited to a group interview 3weeks ago, Nastya felt her chances of receiving the job were good. The group interview saw the best 16 applicants being invited to the firm and put through a number of tests and hypothetical scenarios both in Russian and English. Personally, I new she had it in the bag after she told me that a fellow Aussie took the English interview part. Maybe it also had something to do with the few shots we downed with one of the American senior auditors, at the monk's party. Or maybe it's due to the fact that everywhere we go, all other native speakers can't believe there is a Russian with an Aussie accent. I often just get left in the background as the Russian/Aussie is asked to talk and talk and talk.....
For the purposes of privacy and so that Nastya's first day at work is not her last, all names and places are fictitious.

Blackout!

In case you been wondering if I dropped of the face of the earth please read on.

The consequences of what you are about to read were the following:

• no electricity for 24h
• no running water for 3 days
• no Internet connection for 3.5 days
• trip to Russian Banya 5h

The long way home.

It halted Napoleon’s 500 000 man march, it threw a spanner in Hitler’s Blitzkrieg and on Friday night it had me second guessing: “What the hell was I doing in this mad country?”
Friday started mediocre enough. There was a bit of rain about (enough to give Wivanhoe a good top up), and a strong wind blowing. The temperature was 8-10 degrees, normal for a typical autumn day here in Vlad.
The morning had Anatoly, Nastya and I running around town, organizing my registration. As a foreigner you must be registered to a particular household or hotel, just in case the authorities want to have a chat to you. If you leave the country your registration is canceled and, therefore, as I had traveled to China my new registration was long overdue. I am not too sure of the normal foreigner registration process, but I don’t think it involves back door entries into police departments followed by a chat in a dingy little office, where your details are scribbled down manually in a log book.
Once done with all the red tape, off to EF I went, where I was scheduled to take 3 classes. A one on one tutorial was first up, followed by an elementary children’s class and finally finishing with my favorite class, Business English. As I was preparing for Business English Masha (a fellow teacher) suggested I take a look outside. Peering through the window, I couldn't believe my eyes. The whole landscape had changed. It was almost lunar in appearance. Snow had covered everything transforming the once familiar street.
Now, my impressions of snow were that it was supposed to be fun. Light and fluffy, I romanticized all through my last class about stepping out into that winter wonderland.
How wrong I was. The winter wonderland was a full-on blizzard, with minimal visibility and snow that was more like a “Slurpee” you’d pick up at “7 Eleven”. Wading through the knee deep slush I proceeded to look around for my car. The car had disappeared! Where I had previously parked the jeep, now in its place, was a rather large snow mound. “How the hell am I going get into my car?” “Will I even be able to drive through this blizzard?” Many questions raced through my mind at that instant; however, one remains etched in my memory. “Wasn’t it only two weeks ago, that I was lazily tanning myself at the beach?!” Oh yeah, winter had arrived with a bang all right, only 6 months of this blunderland left!

The journey home that frosty Friday was epic to say the least. Normally a 5min trip just up the road, that evening it took me a hellish 35min to get from work to the car park. Even a 5km per hour, I saw my life flash before my eyes more than once. Brisbane has its’ fair share of rough weather. I’ve driven through some pretty bad cyclones, however, this blizzard through me completely off my game. Trees collapsed around me under the weight of snow, mesmerizing cars slid elegantly across the road, my fingers had lost all feeling due to the cold and for some reason I could not clear the fog off my windscreen.
Making it to the 24 hour car park was just the beginning, for ahead was a good 10-15 min trek home in good weather. Could it possibly get any worse? The answer was, you bet, as freezing winds ripped through my clothing. Right from the start I should have followed my intuition and just spent the night in the car, as the wind and snow was like something you’d watch on an Antarctic documentary. I began my normal root home towards the 75 degree hill with understandable trepidation. Looking down at the base of the hill the foot prints had long ago ceased. No one that evening had attempted the climb it. How hard could it be? Was there even another way home? If there was it was certainly going to take me a lot longer. To climb or not to climb was the question?! I had no choice, this was the only way home I knew. Slowly and very carefully I began to ascend. Half way up I thought “yeah this is going well, it’s not too hard, those soft Russiaaaaaaaa!” Legs, arms, and briefcase spun wildly through the air as I ceremonially rolled end over end to the bottom of the hill. Completely saturated, freezing cold and with the blizzard unbelievably intensifying, what on earth was I going to do next? Challengers like this are what real men are made of I thought, as I trekked off into the unknown. It was 10.30pm, not a sole to be seen anywhere. Vlad’s street lighting had long ago been cut and now my whole body was now shivering out of control. As the winds howled around me I stumbled hopelessly through the slush and one thought crossed my mind. Is this the beginning of the end? What about hypothermia? My fingers, toes, ears and face were stinging with cold and I had no idea which way to turn next.
For 10 minutes I shuffled head hunched, fists clenched, jammed deep into my pockets and then emerging out of the gloom I saw a building. “Please let me in,” I cried to myself. “I don’t care who you are just let me in so I can get warm!” It was just my luck again, not a sole to be seen anywhere. Then just as I was about to pass the building the faint glow of a cigarette caught my eye. Rushing over, the young man smoking the cigarette could see the distress written all over my wet face and proceed to punch his security code into the door, letting me into the apartment blocks stairwell. Warmth at last! Man, my fingers hurt! “Znaesh gde dom 84?” I asked the young man. “Ne daleko, vverh po lestnice.” Fantastic it wasn’t too far and I was on the right track.
Finally I bit the bullet and pushed back out into the madness, this time with a better idea of how to get home. 30min later I stumbled in the door much to Nastya’s astonishment. I had made it home!

A hot bath does wonders for frozen fingers and toes!

The morning after!

What a fairy!

I am usually quite, and not good at expressing my thoughts on paper (or on the net in this case) But I cannot be silent any longer. Check out the photo of my husband and his groovy sleepers.

I am looking at this picture, and few questions come to mind:

- Was it a mistake to bring him to Russia?

- If he is wearing sleepers like that after two months of Russian "vacation", what will happen after one year?!

Mummie Trol fans.

No I am not in hibernation, although it is starting to get a little fresh over here. I am sure you can all see by the weather pixel how cold it is, however it does not take into consideration the massive wind-chill factor. Being a port, Vladivostok seems to be battered constantly by some very cool winds. In winter these winds can minus another 15-20 degrees of the minimum. With official minimums as low as -30 I am glad that I've stocked up on the thermal undies.

The reason I've been out of action for the last few days is a direct result from the self inflicted hangover I sustained after the weekend. Saturday night was huge. It started however Innocent enough, Larry (the patriot), San Deep (a fellow teacher from EF and also the son of the Indian Vice Consul) and I headed to a pub/restaurant for a drink. Before long Nastya, Maryanna, Dasha (San Deep's girlfriend and the inebriating instigator Sasha arrived. So you can see we had quite the gathering and no one was in a hurry to go anywhere.

Dasha, San Deep, Larry and I.

Sunday night Oleg, Natasha, Alonya, Nastya and I headed off the see Mummie Trol, a very popular band here in Russia. The lead singer was brought up in Vlad and so tickets were at a premium. Lucky we've got a few connections. Mummie Trol is a cross between Marilyn Manson and the Cure. I couldn't understand one word that was sung and so at first felt very dejected about my Russian progress. However after consulting with the the others, my spirits were lifted, as the rest of the group had no idea about the lyrics as well.

There seems to be a problem with up loading photos so you'll just have to wait for the concert pics.

Park anywhere you want but not at night.

Last night a few of us met up after work (Sun Life) to celebrate the last Wednesday of the week. Out came the vodka, pickles, salami, salads and cigars.
The festivities began in one of the back rooms at the gym and continued on through to the early hours of the morning. It was a great opportunity for me to catch up on some interesting Russian vocabulary. Russian swearing is extremely varied and extensive. English is nowhere near as colourful. I remember that back home there is a subject dedicated to foul language at university. I now understand why. It would take nearly a year to learn all that vocab.


There are so many cultural variances over here, sometimes I just take it for granted and forget that what I am doing, was 2 months ago, a very strange experience. One such variance occurs everyday. In Russia you can park your car anywhere. The position of parking inspector is nonexistent, thankfully. However, at night it is a different story. You can not just park your car out the front of your house and stroll on inside. If you did, the next day there wouldn't be much left of it if anything. Car theft is rampant and no one leaves their cars unattended over night. All vehicles are left at 24 hour security parking lots. The only problem is most of these lots are a 15-20 min walk from your home. So after a long day at work, it is not a matter of just driving home and stepping in the door. No you must drive to the lot first, then trek up sometimes mountains (this is true in my case) all the way home. It doesn't stop there, because in the morning you've also got to pick your car up. So make sure you allow that extra 20mins for the walk. It is going to be interesting how I will cope with these late night, early morning walks when it is -30degrees!

Some Pics

Nastya, the handbag negotiator!

Shopping madness at Suifenhe's bus station.

Mum and Parpie,

You're not the only ones having renovations done. This is our bedroom! We're getting a new balcony put on as well.

The Crossing

What is with the new Aussie passports? I know by putting the computer chip in amongst the pages and having a holographic image of yourself on the front page, your passport is supposed to be more secure, but the hassles associated with these things over here in the non English speaking world are amazing. Every time my passport was checked whilst crossing the border (5 times one way), the same process followed. Every page strictly scrutinised, front and back checked and felt, holographic image stared at then rubbed with fingernail to see is it would peel off, computer chip felt and held up to the light and then the whole process would be repeated. The other tourists would all stare and whisper to each other, "what's that foreign looking guy doing with the fake passport" or "I can't believe this guy holding up the queue, did he bring all the correct documents". At some points I even had the customers officers get on the phone to ask for a superior and then, only after the whole process was repeated did they reluctantly OK me.
Crossing from Russia into China was a strange experience. After passing what looked like a military base complete with dozens of menacing looking tanks, our bus traveled through "no mans' land" until we hit the crossing. Here the first of 5 passport checks occur as a solider boards the bus and begins to eye everyone very suspiciously. Then after traveling a few more meters we wait for about 45min to get clearance to disembark and go through immigration. Russian officials are nearly always grumpy, short tempered and trying their best at being intimidating. The whole story changes once we crossed into China. The Chinese officials did not have the tough guy attitude. There was a very faint smirk on some of there faces, which turned into a smile and followed with many friendly questions once they found out I was from Australia. " Ooh you are from Australia! What are you doing here? What is it like there?" It was a nice change to be considered a novelty rather than eyed with suspicion.

Suifenhe

What a strange little city! Suifenhe is China, however, all street signs are in Russian, the local Chinese all speak Russian and all products can be bought with the Russian Rouble. The city apparently grows by another skyscraper every few months and is a shoppers' paradise. You can buy anything you want there and that is exactly what all the Russian tourists do. Bus loads of them cross the border at all hours of the day and night taking with them just the clothes on their backs, ( you don't want to exceed the 35kg luggage limit when coming back). A usual tour consists of a 2-3 day stop of shopping madness, stocking up on everything from clothes, home entertainment, white goods, car accessories, and etc..., then jamming all the products into massive canvas bags and shoving them back on the bus. I saw basses drive by where only canvas bags, stacked to the roofs, could be seen through the windows, I have no idea where the passengers could have been.

Anastasia and I didn't do half badly ourselves, stocking up on all of our Winter and Autumn supplies. Just in the nic of time, as yesterday, it dropped to a mild 4 degrees. The seasons here contrast greatly and so do the clothes one must wear. You have Winter, Summer and Autumn/Spring clothing.

For most Australians this concept is quite foreign, so to the issue of crossing by land a border. The border crossing itself was rather interesting. In a part of the world where English is a distant after thought, you could imagine the dilemmas that occurred. Stay tuned for the border crossing entry for a full account.

China is Calling Once Again

Off to China tomorrow for the second time, hopefully this time I won't have any problems from guys like this.
Actually the poster is a recruitment advertisement stating "have you signed up as a volunteer."From the look of him , why would you argue.

The Ninja Turtles.

The last two days have been rather relaxing. Just the odd class at English First and not much else. Tonight I am off to the gym to teach a Boxacise class, not normally any problem, but as it is in Russian, some thought must be given to it. The staff at "Sun Life" are an eclectic bunch, leaving me in stitches half the time I am at work. There's Rafael, the gangster walking, "50 Cent" talking, half Russian, half Azerbaijani ladies man. Rafael likes everyone to know that it is only his bottom half that is Azerbaijani. Then there is Leonardo, the ex Russian 100meter sprint champion who is constantly on a high, buzzing here and there, out for a smoke, making a coffee, showing someone how to squat, then back out for a smoke and coffee. The way this guy runs around, it is as if he was just about to take to the track again. Oh yeah, he is also a ladies man and will put everything on hold in order to make a b-line for any attractive girl that walk in the room. There's also Vasili, the 90kg Russian bench champion (PB-300KG), who has not touched a drop of alcohol in 5 years, has a bowl of porridge and glass of kafier every two hours and has just finished his psychology studies.
The girls are as eclectic if not more so. There's Elena the princess, Alina the Bodybuilder, Anya the princess, Alica the weightlifter, Christina the princess, Anya2 the Aerobics champion, Tanya the princess....I think you get my drift.
Finally there is Ura-the boss, with the amazing ability to turn up when least expected and least wanted. Maybe it's because of all those security cameras and microphones set up just about everywhere. How handy would they have been back at Movements and Fitzone.