Welcome to my short essay on my impressions of life teaching in the city of Izhevsk in Russia. It is a land of many extremes, a land of enormous distances and wide open spaces that would dwarf anything one has seen before. A place where one gets a welcome break from the fast-paced, consumerism and fast food mentality of the west and see something much more deep-rooted and steeped in culture and tradition. Here one may see hundreds of people on the street and wonder at how grim and hardy they look and then meet the same people in their homes and wonder at how friendly, fun-loving and sincere they are.

A city where a two hour walk will take you through areas of concrete tower blocks, areas of picturesque wooden homes, large tracts of forest and also over large parts of frozen snow-covered lake. For days on end I have seen blizzards, forbidding dark skies and winds that blow sheets of fine snow in eddies across deserted streets, and then I will see one day of such golden sun and azure skies as one only sees on holiday. The following are excerpts from my journal which I have endeavoured to maintain each dayÅ

So I shall start at the beginning with the journey here which did not quite go according to plan but was nevertheless a good experience.

After arriving at Sheremotovo airport in Moscow at 5am on the 20th December I was somewhat concerned when, after 2 hours there was still no sign of my baggage, but eventually it arrived and I went out exploring the airport.

The taxi driver who took me to the centre of Moscow was a little scary (if you’ve ever driven in Italy then you will know what I mean). However he was very sociable and he knew about 100 words of English, which was about the same number of Russian words that I knew and so ensued an interesting conversation of half-English, half-Russian.

What a wonderful challenge the trip from Moscow to Izhevsk has turned out to be. I learned more Russian words in that one day in Moscow than I could have learned in two weeks at home!

The sequence of events for the first day went something like:

- Locate the correct metro station.
- Convince lady in metro ticket office that I want a tube ticket to the airport and NOT an airoplane ticket to Azerbeijan.
- Ride on the metro around Moscow, asking someone each time if this is the stop for the airport. The word Domodedovo is very difficult to pronounce at first but after the 30th time it begins to slide off the tongue easier.
- Convince bus driver to take you from metro station to airport (having only 20 dollar notes does not help).

The bus journey was an experience in itself as we passed through frozen, snow covered forests of fir trees and endless flat, white expanses of snowfields.

On arrival at Domodedovo airport the tricky part was finding out where to purchase a plane ticket for Izhevsk. There are 15 different check-in desks at the airport and I don’t recommend asking, as I did, each desk one by one. I discovered it saves a lot of time in the long run if one simply asks some friendly girl from the administration desk to help you. The girl there was very helpful and her English was considerably better than my Russian. (I think she must have taken pity on this scruffy-looking English guy who was probably the only foreigner in the entire airport).

As it turned out there was only one flight per day to Izhevsk, it was fully booked and neither love nor money was going to procure me a seat on it. Thus I opted to backtrack back to Moscow centre and get the train instead. (It saves a lot of trouble in the end if one simply follows Alla’s advice to begin with).

Once again the friendly lady, whose name I didn’t have the presence of mind to ask, came to my rescue and bought the train ticket for me right there at the airport. (She helped me to buy a second class ticket in a 4-bed train compartment for just 45 dollars). She then called a taxi for me, haggled the price and told him exactly where to drop me off. In Moscow there are three main train stations and the odds of having chosen the correct one on my own would have been pretty slim indeed. Amazingly the price she arranged for me for the 60km taxi ride back to Moscow was just twenty dollars this time.

On boarding the train I discovered it was somewhat different than I expected but most excellent all the same (and it puts the meagre service of British Rail to shame). My carriage had 4 compartments and each compartment had bunkbeds for 4 people and a table. It was almost certain that I was the only foreigner on the train, but anyway I was becoming used to this state of affairs by now. The other three people in my compartment were very friendly and we dined together with the dinner which was provided (sandwiches, yoghurt, biscuits, apple juice and chocolates). Each bed had new sheets, pillows, towel etc.. and was very comfortable, particularly so for someone like me who hadn’t slept for almost two days. The journey was about 1100km and took twenty hours which is pretty good for 45 dollars.

One of the girls in my compartment spoke some English and so I was able to glean some more interesting facts about this country and realise just how ignorant I was of its culture and customs. Before coming here I knew almost zero about Russia and what I did know were just the things we see on the news such as the Chernobyl, Kursk and Chechneya disasters. Still I think that knowing nothing about the country before one arrives adds to the excitement and also means one has less preconceived notions. I suspect, no actually I’m pretty certain, that all of the people in my compartment thought I was one can short of a six-pack and I wondered if the words they used when they referred to me meant something like ‘that crazy Englishman’. Actually they told me that they think I’m very brave, though I’m not sure that bravery and Óblissfully ignorant of what lies aheadÔ mean exactly the same thing.

My companions in the compartment were very interested in me and seemed to talk about me a lot (with a fair amount of laughing). I hoped the novelty might wear off after a while but, alas no, they took great pleasure in accounting to me the difficulties in Russia and the extreme cold I would face and the language and the fact that I was vegetarian (this made them laugh out loud, once I had managed to explain the concept to them). I recommend (particularly in winter) that one should think hard about what one will eat if wishing to be a vegetarian in Russia as I quickly reached the conclusion that I would need to temporarily suspend being vegetarian while here.

Everyone I meet seems to be particularly unimpressed when they see the clothing that I have with me. ‘Poor boy, he will freeze to death!’ has become a popular phrase. The Russians generally wear large furry hats and long, thick coats made of animal fur or sheepskins and leather which look very warm and although the colours are all rather drab, the appearance is impressively smart.

The view out of the window during the train journey was forbiddingly beautiful and unlike anything I have ever seen before. For hours we would wend our way through dark, impenetrable forests covered in snow and then there would be just vast, flat expanses of snow-fields. As we approached nearer to the city I would occasionally see a small village tucked away on the edge of the forest. These villages reminded me of ghost towns because there seemed to be no life and no movement and all windows and roofs were covered in a thick layer of ice and snow.

After twenty hours on the train we arrived in Izhevsk. Suddenly there was a great flurry of activity on our beautifully warm train. Everyone was donning large amounts of thick clothing to cover every inch of the body. (I felt decidedly underdressed).

Then we got off the train and the cold which hit me then was indescribable!! Words cannot convey to the reader a concept like it unless one has experienced it. Suffice to say that within a few minutes of leaving the train my hands had turned an interesting shade of blue and my nose had gone a deep-red colour (any worries about looking like Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer are negated here as everyone elses nose looks the same). After five minutes the moisture inside my nose had frozen and the sensation of breathing when one has icicles inside the nose is a most novel one.

The train station in Izhevsk was quite empty and it was about this point in time that I discovered my contact documents were missing (left in a telephone booth in Moscow). Being alone in a foreign city in the middle of Russia without addresses or telephone numbers to contact is not something that makes one feel overly comfortable.

The temperature inside the station was a warm –15C and after a while two policemen saw me loitering around looking a bit dazed and asked to see my papers. My low spirits at this point were not boosted by this opportunity of talking to real authentic Russian policemen. By their lack of English and highly amused expressions I had the impression that I was the first westerner they had seen for sometime. They very kindly found a taxi for me and the driver was a real great guy – he managed to find the address of the agency for me by asking at a hotel and then he deposited me there in the Svezhy Veter office before the bemused expressions of Alla and the three other girls working there.

It has to be said that I was a little surprised at how smart and modern the office was and how hi-tec the computers were. (Naturally being a computer engineer, they were the first things I noticed). I guess that I was not expecting to see the same technology and devices here in Izhevsk as at home. The computers, mobile phones, microwaves, VCR’s, Hi-fi’s etc are mostly all the same models here as in England.

In the evening I met the host family that I would be staying with. They are all so polite, friendly and hospitable that I feel quite ill-mannered in comparison. The place where I am staying here is a real-nice house, warm and smart with all the mod-cons. There are a few things which take a little getting used to at first, such as the light switches which are always outside the room and the three doors one must unlock to get into the house. Also the telephone was confusing for a while because the ringing tone here is the same as the engaged tone in England.

Finally I had a real bed to sleep in again. It certainly felt like the most wonderful nights sleep I have ever had, even if I did wake up the next morning wondering where on earth I was.

Svetlana’s mother is, I think, a little concerned about me and like my own mother at home, she took one look at my clothes, tut-tutted loudly at me and then hauled me off to buy extra hats, scarves and a coat. The street market we visited was amazing. I mean this place was big and had stalls selling every kind of clothing and shoes one could need. I bought a new scarf and hat which are, admittedly, warmer than the ones I had already. Judging by the interesting shade of colour that my hands have opted for, I suspect that some new gloves are also in the offing. Fortunately we have put off buying a new coat as Svetlana’s dad has lent me his huge and very thick sheepskin coat which is great, even if it is a little large and makes me look like a tough sort of mafia dude.

It’s extraordinary to me that all these stall-holders can sit out in the snow and freezing cold all day for so many days of the week! When we visited it was snowing and was about –13C and yet the market was crowded and the stall-holders just stand there almost impervious to the cold. My impressions in those first few days were of a very hardy and tough people and particularly this seemed apparent in the faces of the old people. One cannot imagine how many signs of hardship can be read in a persons face.

My second night here I was invited to a dinner party by Vladimir and was treated to an excellent display of Russian hospitality and food. There was a lot of talking and merriment until quite late into the evening.

The meal was (for me) quite amazing and as usual I learned from experience - one should not eat too much in the first course as there happened to be three more to go!! The food was well nice and though it resembled nothing like we have in England I thought it was excellent!. The first course was a variety of auderves and salads which included pickled cucumbers, pickled mushrooms (very weird, but nice), beetroot and cherries and also scrambled egg with sweetcorn and mayonaise. Then arrived the main course consisting of a cut of meat with hash-brownie style fried potato and a couliflower cheese type of thing. I was a little dismayed at how much food there was, but still I ate it all somehow.

After the party I wondered at how to get home but despite the time being a bit after 11pm it turned out to be no problem. The trams here run every 15 minutes until 11.30pm and cover most of the city but cost almost nothing. (The public transport system here is a hundred times better than in my county at home!)

Several days later, just as I was beginning to get used to –20C temperatures, the family told me one morning, in some surprise, that the temperature rose in the night to just –1C. Apparently this is unusually warm for Izhevsk in December. (They were looking at me suspiciously as they told me this and I began to think that they suspected me of somehow tampering with the weather).

The city of Izhevsk surrounds in a half-moon shape, one side of a large man-made lake about 7km long which is frozen over all winter. Most days there are dozens of fishermen (looking like small black penguins on the ice), who make a hole and sit there for days dangling their fishing lines. (In –15 degrees!!) I am beginning to suspect that some people aren’t entirely sane. In fact Vladimir told me yesterday that a popular activity for some people here is to make a hole in the frozen lake and jump in for a quick swim. I don’t know about this for certain, but if it’s true then I’m convinced that some people aren’t sane at all!!

Once I started to find my way around a bit and not get lost so frequently I decided to meet up with the other English teaching volunteers. We all went together to a cafe and had drinks and some food. There are a number of really nice, cosy cafes here and they are great places to get together and socialise (many have DJ style music playing, disco lights and also karaoke).

The other two foreign English teachers here right now (actually I reckon they’re the only other foreigners in the entire city) are called Brad and Givench and they’re from Canada and Turkey. Brad is working here for six months and is travelling around Russia and learning the Russian Language. I don’t know exactly why Givench is here as it must be seriously cold here compared to Turkey! But like Brad and myself, he enjoys the work and this is his second time teaching English here. They’re both cool guys and it’s very reassuring for me to know that there are at least two other people who think it’s a great laugh to live in Russia in the middle of winter!

My first few weeks here were during the Christmas holidays and thus I only needed to work in the mornings. This meant that many evenings I, and the other volunteers, were heading round to peoples houses socialising and partying. It is no small thing in Russia to be invited to someone’s home and we were most honoured that so many people did so much to make our stay here so enjoyable.

I remember a few evenings, one in particular, where we were out socialising with a group of Russian people who spoke almost no English. It’s far more interesting (and challenging) when you must speak only in Russian and I’m sure that people are very impressed if one at least tries, even if it does mean that everyone creases up laughing!

This particular evening we were experimenting with Brad’s hypothesis that if one drank enough vodka then one’s Russian speaking abilities would be greatly improved. As the evening progressed we spent a hilarious hour speaking in Russian and Brad was proved to be largely correct (as we just rattled off anything we could think of in Russian). It’s likely that half of what we said didn’t mean the same as we intended but nobody cared and everyone was laughing too hard to voice any objections.

One evening, about two weeks into my stay, we went out again for dinner at a cafe and also spent a few hours playing pool. The cafe had no windows and so, on leaving the cafe, we were somewhat surprised to discover ourselves in the middle of a raging blizzard and many snowdrifts. It had been snowing hard while we were inside and there were two feet of snow outside (There had already been a good quantity of snow when I first arrived in Izhevsk). For myself and Brad the snow was quite a novelty, one which developed into an impromptu snowball fight and after some pushing and shoving resulted in most of us buried in snowdrifts. It was all so comic that we just lay in the snow laughing.

Volunteers have the opportunity to teach all ages of pupils from 9 years to 17 years old during the day and it is usually possible to work with just older or younger pupils if one has a preference. In the evenings (usually alternating days or alternating weeks) each volunteer teaches the adult student in the evenings (also located at the school).

A typical lesson at the school with the older students such as grade ten (16 years old) will involve covering a particular topic such as mass media or hobbies and having a discussion with groups of the students about this topic. With these older students it is not so much about structured teaching as practicing speaking English through discussions. For me it is very fun and interesting to talk with the students, although it can be tiring and harder work than one might expect – as one needs to constantly scrutinise every sentence they say in order to make corrections. I was both surprised and impressed by the high standard of their English which is considerably better than the standard for foreign languages was at my school.

For me it most enjoyable to teach the younger classes of pupils (grades 2 to 7). They are my favourite as they are less serious and more boisterous and enthusiastic – generally they have a lot of fun and it’s a great opportunity for me to also learn Russian. Again we cover a topic each week, from their books, which may be about items in the house, holidays, superlative sentences etc.. Often we play games such as pairs or charades and then I draw pictures on the board and pupils must think of the word in English.

All the pupils are very friendly and helpful at the school and for the whole of the first month I felt like quite a novelty item because everyone gave me so much attention. On many occasions students would come and talk with me and give small presents, chocolate bars or sweets which is pretty cool. An example of one of the many unforgettable moments: It was at the end of a long day and I was too hot and feeling pretty down when suddenly one of the grade 3 pupils came up and presented me with an intricately patterned origami fan made of paper. It was a gift which really lifted my spirits and made my day (and was a very effective fan too!).

The school has a good canteen which is open from 11am until 4pm and most days volunteers head down there for lunch – free food! There is a good selection of Russian dishes in the canteen and I particularly liked the Piroshki - fresh baked bread-rolls which are stuffed with pickled cabbage, fish, apricots, apple or raisins.

Tatiana, the head English teacher at the school is really great and works unbelievably hard to keep the whole department working smoothly and ensure the children attain a high standard of English. For my first weeks at the school she worked with me to teach the classes and after this I took a lot of classes on my own which is a little scary at first but well exciting.

On Christmas day I was invited to a party with the family and friends where Brad was living. The wind was blowing pretty strong outside and I was trying hard not to think about the temperature. Fortunately the house was not far but I tried to check the temperature anyway before leaving and discovered that I actually couldn’t see the needle because the thermometer was covered in half an inch of ice. Svetlana informed me mischievously that if you can’t see the thermometer then it meant it was at least –20 degrees (no danger of breaking into a sweat in this weather).

The party was a great success. The hospitality here is wonderful and of course I also had the opportunity to sample more Russian cakes and chocolates (they’re a hell of a lot better than in England). Brad opened a bottle of Champagne and almost wrecked the light fitting on the ceiling when the cork came out too quickly. There were many toasts, a lot of chatting (in English and Russian) and at some point someone obligingly found a guitar for me play a few songs with. Two of the girls gave us an excellent rendition of some traditional Russian folk music which was well interesting and generally I felt the evening was one not to be missed.

Getting around Izhevsk becomes much easier after a few weeks as one becomes more competent at travelling on the trams and trolley-busses (a bus powered by electricity from overhead power lines). Though I still seem to stand out quite distinctly as a westerner when travelling (even before I open my mouth), I suspect this is partly because of the backpack I carry with me everywhere. It’s still extraordinary to me that not a single Russian carries bags or packs with them. Except for the fishermen who are quite eccentric old characters and very funny to listen to, even if one can only understand a few of their words!

During the holidays Vladimir arranged a big party at the school for all of the older students that are in the evening English classes. The volunteers were also invited to come along and meet everybody which was great fun. There were about 60 students sitting around tables in the biggest classroom in the school. Everyone brought various cakes, pastries and biscuits and it was easy to make many new friends, though I got into trouble several times because I kept forgetting everyone’s names. Many of the students only spoke mediocre English and so it was highly amusing to be holding conversations half in English and half in Russian. (Actually my Russian was really dire compared to their English but people were impressed that I made the attempt).

After the party, four of the students offered to take Givench and myself to the city center to check out a club called U-Dance where they have a good dance floor and a few DJ’s playing a mix of western dance and rock music and also Russian rock songs.

The club was a pretty novel one as it used to be an underground bomb shelter and is layed out with curved ceilings and many corridors and rooms draped with camouflage netting and old war relics. The entrance fee was only about 4 dollars and there was a nice atmosphere and some pool tables and a couple of bars. There were also Russian style pool tables but all of the balls are the same bloody colour (white) so I had no idea how one was supposed to play, bit too confusing for me I reckon.

Anyone who, like me, was expecting security to be a problem here in Izhevsk will find, like me, that this is actually not the case and nowhere is this more evident than at concerts and clubs like U-Dance. There were three large, no-nonsense security guards at the entrance – wearing army combats and armed with various weapons and also a metal detector. All of us were searched and once inside the club there were another two guards keeping a close eye on things. It has to be said that I feel much safer at places here than I do in England.

New years eve and New years day are the biggest celebrations in the Russian calendar and I was definitely lucky to be there during these days as there were some pretty major parties, the first of which was with the friends of Svetlana, whose family I am living with.

At the party only two people could speak English and thus my Russian skills took yet another hammering (much to the amusement of all present). The first order of the day when we arrived was the feast of food waiting on the table. Admittedly I had to wonder where I was going to put all the food on my plate and again I marvelled at how one could be in this country for over two weeks and still sample new and different dishes every single day.

Today was of course no exception and I proceeded to tuck into the first dish which was pretty weird one and will require some careful deliberation to describe. It looked like a big black-forest gateau, however the main ingredients were fish covered in caviar and a set cream sauce. There were various salads to go with this, my favourite being comprised of sweetcorn, chopped hard-boiled egg, mayonaise, rice and pieces of crab.

By the time we had finished the first course I was feeling distinctly full and wondering about the probability of my name being changed to ÓRotundusÔ when I finally arrive back in England. Fortunately at this point we reached midnight and so more food was put off temporarily.

The Russian tradition in this group demanded that each person write out on two small pieces of paper their wishes for the new year and their misdemeanours of the past year. When the clock began to chime midnight we had to hold the paper with our misdemenours over the candle and burn it. Then we each held the paper with our wishes over a candle, the idea being to get the ashes and remains to fall into your glass of champagne which you then drank. Perhaps it was just my lack of experience with this tradition or maybe my luck was out, as my paper went up in a blaze and got temporarily stuck to my fingers before proceeding to fall, not into my glass, but into my lap where it promptly beganm to set fire to my trousers. (quite hazardous some of these Russian traditions!)

After a few more toasts of champagne I searched for an extra inch of space inside and proceeded to tackle the delicious looking pudding which I can only describe as a type of vanilla mousse with a bottom layer like sponge but covered with jam and the whole was filled with bits of pomegranite (unfortunately I can’t spell this word and this computer is no help as it is configured in Russian! Using computer in this city is a major pain in the arse as the system font is in Cyrillic and so it’s impossible to understand any of the menus or system messages).

By now it was past midnight and everyone agreed it was time for some divinations (these seem to be a tradition here as they are quite popular). I was curious to know about what was entailed in divinations and so I entered into the spirit of things and gave it a go.

The first divination involved a tub of water with strips of paper all round it which had possible life outcomes written on them. One then had to drop a nightlight candle in the middle of the bowl and see which strip of paper it floated towards and the strip which it set fire to was your fortune. I’m not entirely convinced of the accuracy of this system as my candle immediately proceeded across the bowl and set fire to the paper marked Óriches and much moneyÔ. Now I’m a student through and through and thus the prospect of lots of money has never figured largely on my horizon. There were other divinations also but there’s not enough space here to describe them all so you’ll have to visit Izhevsk and see them yourself.

Next we all donned our coats and went out into a decidedly warm –8C and headed over to the square where there was a large gathering of people around a huge Christmas tree (more like an entire full-grown fir tree). Also there were many ice sculptures, ice bowls and ice slides.

The sheer number and variety of fireworks being released was almost deafening but very dazzling and beautiful, if a little dangerous. Everyone just simply brought their own fireworks and released them at any time, in any old fashion, and in any direction (including horizontal). There was a police car nearby with two policemen in it but they looked to be asleep and not in the least bit concerned. It was certainly very exciting dodging fireworks and trying to stay upright on the icy ground (one firework landed between my legs and promptly exploded with a large bang, much to the amusement of my friendsÅ I swear my hair was standing up on end for the rest of the evening!)

There were a few older folk from the surrounding villages and they had a squeezy-box thingy (don’t know it’s real name) and were playing some old Ukrainian folk songs while people around were dancing. It was very merry, quick music and great fun to dance to, although the dancing was hard for me at first as it involved a lot of lifting each knee up high, then crossing the legs and bending the knees whilst folding the arms.

I was feeling decidedly hot and tired after this, but not too tired to miss out on playing in the ice slides and ice bowls. The ice slides are like the big slides at an English playground, the minor difference being that they are entirely made of ice. The slides towers are cleverly sculpted into the shape of horses or whales heads and are made out of huge blocks of ice cut out of the lake. I climbed up onto the top of the tower and then slid, at an extraordinary speed, down the long slide part which was, of course, considerably more slippery than a metal slide as it was composed of ice.

After this my new friends generously offered to throw me into the ice bowl along with many (other) children who were already sliding around inside and trying to get out. This ice bowl was about ten feet in diameter and about 4 feet deep. Made of huge blocks of ice and the same shape as a soup-bowl, it was sanded perfectly smooth inside and thus ones feet are rendered completely useless. Laughing uncontrollably I scrabbled and slid around with the (other) children for five or ten minutes before finally launching myself at the rim of the bowl, gaining a handhold and hauling myself over the edge to fall in a tangled heap on the ground. Again much to the amusement of the others.

After this there was a general consensus to head back home, although we only made it as far as the nearest large snowdrifts before the obligatory snow-ball fight broke out. Myself being the only male present, I couldn’t help feeling that I was being targetted more than other people, but then I did have the benefit of Goretex clothing. Things progressed on to a bit of a wrestling match and within minutes everyone was again lying half-buried in snowdrifts on the side of the road while passers-by looked on in bemusement. (The novelty of snow drifts will, I suspect, take many years to wear off after living so long in a country like England, which is bereft of snow).

The rest of the journey home also took considerably longer than the outward journey as we decided to take a shortcut across a small park. I have subsequently discovered that, in Russia, if you are not on a path or road, then there is no such thing as a shortcut. The snow was up to our waists within minutes and it effectively hid every kind of obstacle (such as logs, park benches, manholes etc..) However everyone was in a humourous mood and it was a good laugh.

Here in Izhevsk there are two large ice-skating rinks – an outdoor and an indoor version. One evening some of the students announced they were going and skating and, ignoring my feeble protests about being crap at skating, they convinced me to go out to the large outdoor sports stadium. During the summer this is a football stadium but every winter it is flooded and turned into a massive ice-skating rink. After hiring a pair of skates I donned them and headed out onto the ice (with no small amount of trepidation).

A large portion of the stadium was covered in large mounds of snow and the ice itself was covered in a good number of pits and mounds, many of which were cleverly disguised by a thin layer of snow. But this only made things more interesting and the whole evening was well exciting. Certainly it is the first ice-skating session I have attended where one can bale out into a snow drift when ones path across the ice goes awry. The opportunity to have battles with snowballs whilst gliding around the ring at high-speed is also not to be missed. (Though the word ‘gliding’ may be a rather too impressive word to describe my ice-skating prowess).

After an hour and a half of ice-skating one discovers anew just how unused certain muscles are in the body. Particularly the ankle muscles and knee muscles seem to take quite a pounding. One also gets extremely hot with so much exercise and with hindsight I suspect that it was unwise to wear so many layers of clothing, even if the temperature was –7C. Anyway I went skating several more times and developed a great liking for it.

The only big problem (and one which I did not foresee) in Izhevsk, aside from the cold, is exercise and sport. Unless one is very keen on skiing and ice-skating everyday, there is very little in the way of sport here during the winter. After a fruitless search and many inquiries I reached the sad conclusion that squash does not exist in Izhevsk and my favourite sport (tennis) is also rarely played. There seem to be no sports clubs here and so almost every sport is difficult to arrange here. There are several pretty good gyms which serve as a popular alternative for many people but hefting weights is hardly something that makes the adrenalin flow.

My first time visiting the city centre in Izhevsk was with Brad and Givench. We went to a cafe near the large church in the centre of the city. The church is very impressive with its pure white walls and tall towers. The roofs are a collection of large domes in glittering gold and the whole building looks like something from an old Persian legend.

The term ‘cafe’ is really not complimentary enough to describe the place where we had our lunch. It is quite a large place with sculptured walls and slanting windows giving an excellent view across the central square to the church. In each corner there are large speakers playing dance music and the tables and chairs are arranged so that each table is private and set apart from the others. At one end is the bar where there is a large selection of traditional Russian food and drink to choose from and the system is somewhat like a carvery. The food is arranged on many shelves and one just helps oneself. The selection of delicious cakes was particularly impressive and the prices were so low that it’s easy to find that ones eyes are bigger than ones stomach. The food turned out to also be very high quality and there wasn’t a one of us that didn’t have difficulty getting out of their seat afterwards.

One day the three intrepid foreigners (Brad, Givenche and myself) decided that, as everybody has no trouble identifying us as foreign tourists when they see us, we might as well act like tourists for a day. So we headed off to the theatre and the museum to see the more historic side of Udmurtia. (The Udmurts are the ancient tribe of peoples who lived here before Udmurtia was absorbed into the USSR at the beginning of the last century).

The theatre is an impressive roman style building from the outside and inside it is equally impressive with large halls and corridors which echo eerily when you walk to either side of the big red carpets. The main hall is a large square room with a high ceiling and many seats leading up to the stage and balconies along the sides. The place was deserted when we arrived and an opportunity to see a performance in the theatre never arrived. My impressions of Russia being the hub of theatres and popular performances, of ballets and drama plays, were sadly burst here. After some inquiries it seems that almost no-one visits the theatre here and certainly none of the people I asked could tell me anything about what I might see at the theatre.

In the museum the situation was somewhat similar as the place was deserted, although the lady at the reception was more than happy to sell us tickets.

The displays and exhibits in the museum were first class and it was certainly the most interesting museum one can imagine. The first room was about the 1916 revolution and showed many ageing black and white photographs of soldiers and also many genuine old sabres and guns from the period. Along one wall was an excellent panoramic painting of a battle scene which was about ten feet in diameter and standing behind several feet of soil and grasses strewn with old helmets and relics of the battlefield.

The second room was dedicated to the wild animals of Udmurtia and to hunting. Here one walks through an open archway and, upon turning around, is suddenly greeted by an enormous stuffed bear which is so lifelike that you almost shit yourself the first time. In the centre of the room is a boxed area filled with natural grass, soil and plants, the middle of which is occupied by two large stuffed wolves with bared teeth. The wolfskins have been stuffed and remodelled in the most lifelike way one can imagine and I am certain that I’d be scared out of my wits if I ever met them on a dark night.

There were three other large rooms in the museum showing everything from old Udmurt clothing and tools to local wildlife to exhibits of guns and Kalashnikov’s.

The last room was filled with guns. Every gun imaginable. Genuine and in pristine condition. There were pistols, Kalashnikov automatic rifles, sniper rifles, complex biathlon rifles, ancient shotguns and even some huge 10 foot anti-tank guns. Naturally the exhibits in this room were hardly a surprise when one considers that the city of Izhevsk is most famous for being the place where the AK47 rifle was invented and manufactured.

One thing I reckon needs mentioning about people here is their names, which can be a little confusing. Almost every man I have met is called Alexander and the other men were either called Sergei or Vladimir so attempting to refer to someone using his first name is a pretty hopeless exercise. Also each name has one or two shortened variants (like a nickname) and this makes matters more confusing as Alexander and Alexandra both shorten to Sasha and so one could be referring to male or female people with this name!

Anyway, one of the many Sasha’s I know (he’s a cool bloke and helpfully changed his name to Alex to make things easier for me) offered to take me on a walk around the city. And the first place we went inside was one of the big churches - so I could see my first glimpse of a Russian orthodox church. It was peculiarly different from our own churches and yet truly remarkable. The floor is paved in a colourful mosaic pattern and to look from the floor to the ceiling fifty feet above, ones head must travel a good 180 degrees. There are no pews or chairs in the church and so there is a wonderful sense of space which is broken only by the large stone pillars running along both sides. Every inch of wall and ceiling space is covered by large, colourful and very beautiful murals and paintings. The pictures running along the length of the ceiling were especially impressive and showed scenes of many saints and their disciples.

The church lacked the large stained-glass windows of English churches but ample light was thrown out by the hundreds of candles that people had lit along the sides of the walls and also by the massive chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

The second church I visited was with Alla and when we arrived, there was a service just starting and many people were gathered to watch the priest and two acolytes tending the altar at the back of the church. The priest was very interesting and I had trouble at first trying to stifle a grin as he was wearing long flowing, black and white robes, a strange hat and a very long, thick beard.

An hour after this we arrived at the large frozen lake which the city surrounds in a half-moon shape. As it was winter, the lake just looked like a huge, flat expanse of white snow stretching into the distance, like something one might see in the antarctic. Although on my second glace I noticed about twenty or so black dots spread out on the lake and as they were not moving one had to wonder what they could be. I looked quizzically at Alex for a while and inquired of him if Penguins inhabited the area; this caused a broad grin to break out on his face as he casually informed me that these penguins were fishermen.

As we drew closer to the lakes edge many of the shapes loomed larger out of the gloom and I could indeed see that they had a definite hunched appearance and seemed to be sitting on some sort of small stools. We proceeded to walk out across the lake towards the fishermen. (My first experience of walking on thick snow with the uneasy knowledge that there is fifty feet of water underneath). The ice was around 4 feet thick and was covered in two or three feet of snow which was crisscrossed by a number of well-trodden paths leading to each little fishing hole.

Alex informed me that the fishermen walk out to their spot with big, custom made hand-drills with which they drill a five inch diameter hole through the ice. The fishermen then sit there, totally motionless for a full day or two, dangling their lines down the hole. Some of them have little tents which look quite comical but are undoubtedly useful considering that the temperature was varying between –10C and –20C. (This dedication to the cause shows how much these men like their fish and doubtless their wives are also very impressed with their prowess!).

Last week there was the most beautiful view I have ever had of the city of Izhevsk. It was noon, the sky was blue and the sun was shining brightly on the thick snow which covered the eaves and roofs of all the houses. I was travelling to work in one of the trams which go through the old suburbs of the city where all of the houses are made of logs in the style of Swedish houses.

Each house has a ground floor and also a large attic room beneath the high, steep roof. There were many silver birch and alder trees around the houses which were all laden with snow and the sun was glinting off everywhere in millions of golden sparkles. This was especially beautiful while standing waiting for the tram; there would be a tiny gust of wind which would cause a sprinkling of minute snowflakes to blow through the sunbeams and the resulting display of sparkles was like some kind of fairy lights.

Only twice (including today) have I seen the sun, but when it does appear it is with a clarity and hue that is really amazing and comes complete with the bluest sky I have every seen. Perhaps this is a product of the extreme cold or of the very clean air, I’m not sure, but it’s an amazing sight to see the hundreds of long, sharp icicles that hang along the eaves of the houses gleaming coldly in the sunlight.

There are four large indoor shopping centres in Izhevsk. They are very different to shopping centers in England as they consist of one large square building with an open plan layout of shops inside. Basically there are two floors of small kiosks and stalls and there is so much open space and so few walls that it resembles a market or a bazaar more than a shopping center. One can buy almost anything here from electronic equipment such as VCRs to furniture, linens and household goods. Also there are shops selling cd’s, videos and food shops, sports shops and even a place where you can buy lawnmowers, drills and DIY equipment.

The western brands including computers, televisions, cameras and sports equipment were similar prices to those in the west but common everyday goods and those with Russian brand names were many times cheaper than in the west. It was interesting to see also that some communications items such as mobile phones and internet cards are quite a bit more expensive here and very few people have mobiles.

This evening, like each evening before it, I was treated to more examples of just how much the people here value good home cooking. It is only when one sees the cooking here in Russia that one realises just how much we rely on supermarkets and ready-made food in England. Each family I have been invited to dinner with here in Izhevsk has their own range of specialities of home-made cooking and the family I am living with is no exception. They make everything themselves, not just the main meal but all of the side salads, pastries, cakes, juices, jams, sausages and various meats are painstakingly prepared from the raw ingredients (most of which come from their gardens in summertime).

Things such as salads, jams, juices and pickles are made in large batches during the summer and autumn and stored in large jars the size of buckets. Some examples I ate today are whole pickled cucumbers, grated beetroot, cabbage and carrot salad in olive oil and cherry juice (complete with whole cherries).

The roads here are pretty treacherous every day but judging by the great number of vehicles on the roads the people seem remarkably unfazed by the ice, slush and bad driving conditions. I’m told that many people have special tires with metal spikes and that most people are very experienced at driving on ice. This would appear to be true, judging by what I can recall of the taxi driver I travelled home with one night last week.

Brad, myself and a few friends were invited out to a house for dinner and then out to a club. It was an excellent evening, although considerably after midnight by the time we finished and no chance of getting home by tram. Three of us decided to share a taxi home and within minutes we were experiencing the most dazzling (if rather terrifying) display of driving skills I have ever seen.

At one point the driver needed to turn around on a rather narrow road and instead of doing a 3-point turn he simply floored the accelerator and spun the car around on its axis! Driving cars in these conditions is, I think, rather like skiing – the tires never have any purchase on the ice and thus the car can be moving in any direction at any time. (Often it feels like several directions simultaneously!)

Our taxi driver could have qualified as a rally car driver anytime, although this did not instill me with as much confidence as it should have because I have witnessed several accidents during my stay here. Most of Izhevsk is pretty flat but there are a few points where the incline is nearly 20 degrees and it was as I walked along one of these places that I witnessed the first accident. I was happily ambling along the pavement in a bit of a dream when I heard the noticeable sound of tires sliding on ice and snow. About four feet to my left a truck had lost control on a large patch of ice and, in a slow-motion form of truck-skating, slid thirty feet past me and rammed into a bus waiting at the traffic lights.

One weekend I had a Saturday free and so I allowed myself to be talked into going out to the forest for some skiing. Now I’ve never skiid before (I can’t even spell the damn word!) so I was a wee bit unsure of how it would work out. The group of students from one of Vladimir’s English classes were very understanding and supportive of course, although they seemed a little shocked that a grown man should have never skiid in his life. I explained to them the minor drawback we have in England with no snow and rip-off prices for skiing holidays but it didn’t sound convincing.

So I put on the skiis and grabbed hold of the stick thingsÅ and stood there unable to move, feeling like a fish trying to ride a bicycle. At this point people were more ready to believe me when I said I never skiid in my life. They patiently explained to me how to push one foot in front of the other in synchronisation with pushing myself along using the sticks. After three kilometers of this I got the hang of it no problem, although my arms were dangerously close to going on strike. My friends were impressed with my prowess and as I stood there with a proud grin on my face, they cheerfully suggested, ÓHow about a few small hills?ÔÅ
ÓA few small What?!Ô, despite my protests they set off and I had little choice but to follow as this was a large forest and on my own I was lost. By now I was really enjoying the skiing and the small hills actually proved to be well exciting – the biggest adrenalin rush since New Years eve when I accidentally set fire to me trousers.

The others seemed a bit miffed after the third hill and I still hadn't had the spectacular crash that they were expecting so they sent me off down a slalom slope. There were plenty of trees around but it wasn’t until I’d almost reached the bottom (achieved max velocity and made the discovery, Óno brakes!Ô) that some ill-mannered tree appeared right in front of me and, after a short tree hugging session, bounced me into a ditch. I was fine though, and already looking forward to the next skiing session.

Today after classes I went with one of the students to find a cafe to have something to eat and to chat. Strangely, most of the cafes here close for the staff break from 5pm till 6pm each day, one might think this would be their busiest time. However after some searching we found a cafe that was open and it turned out to be a very cosy cafe that was well hidden down a backstreet and then down some stairs in the basement. The cafe was called Kapitan Nemo and once we had navigated our way down more winding stairs we discovered that the place definitely had a very nautical feel about it. There were ship-style tables and chairs, old ships lanterns hanging from the ceiling and a ships wheel for a coat hanger.

Like most of the cafes this one also had a speciality, which turned out to be their English teas (I began to feel almost back at home) and also their delicious ice-cream which they serve in bowls with various sliced fruits and nuts. Russians love ice cream and eat it as much in winter as in summer despite the temperature! And when it costs just 20 pence for a large bowl I suspect that I could start to develop quite a taste for it too.

Last night I asked for the evening off from classes because some of the students invited me to go paintballing with them. So we duly headed out by bus to the edge of the city where we met up with thirteen other people (many of whom I had been skiing with a few weeks back). The paintballing arena turned out to be a large warehouse building about the size of an aircraft hanger which was situated inside what appeared to be an old army training complex. Here there were numerous old piles of logs, tyres, burnt-out cars and other obstacles which made up the battleground.

This being my first time paintballing I was understandably a little nervous but once in the thick of the action with a healthy dose of adrenalin one finds that there's little room for nervousness.

We were each handed a pair of army trousers, a jacket and a futuristic-looking face-mask with a visor to protect one from getting shot in the face by a paintball. The clothes were put on over the top of our normal clothes so that we wouldn't get paint splattered all over them.

Next the instructor gathered us all around and explained how to use the guns. Of course I didn't understand anything he said because he was talking in quite rapid Russian, but still, the concept, «If something moves, point your gun at it, pull the trigger and empty your magazine» was easy enough to understand in any language!

So we were each handed a gun with enough ammo for 200 shots and duly filed into the warehouse where we took up positions behind various obstacles.

The first game turned out to be a bit of a shambles. There were about three other people who had also never been paintballing before and so I was not the only one that was confused about what were targets and were not. There were actually two teams and each team had either yellow or red armbands but most of the time one could not see the persons armband and so a bit of a free-for-all commenced..

In a moment of extreme bravery (or extreme stupidity) I ran out from behind my cover and sprinted over to what I had decided was the enemy encampment. My guess proved to be correct and upon arrival there I discovered that I was alone, apart from the two guys who turned around suddenly with shocked expressions on their faces. Without pausing to think I shot both of them (several times, just to make sure!) and only after I had registered the large splashes of paint on their backs did I think to check the colour of their armbands which, fortunately, showed them to be enemy. My glory however, was short lived as three other enemy promptly came out from behind a barricade and proceeded to give me a first-hand demonstration of the drawbacks of standing in a crossfire. After being shot three times I staggered back to the waiting area to massage the places where I had been shot and which were stinging greatly.

When the remaining members of the other team had been shot the game was over and everyone gathered to prepare for the next game. (Wiping off the paint splashes first). We had six more similar games in which both teams battled for supremacy in the snowdrift strewn arena (The warehouse roof had numerous holes in it). During the ensuing games I had the dubious pleasure of adding another five bullet wounds to my collection, although the pain became greatly lessened as the evening wore on due to the decreasing pressure in the gun's gas canisters. The remaining six games also showed just how outclassed our team was as we were slaughtered in every game, but this really didn't matter to our adrenalin-soaked minds as we were having great fun.

After the team games the organiser told us we were going to have some duels. These proved to be similar to duels like those held in the 17th/18th centuries. Two people stood back to back and proceeded to walk ten paces then turn round and shoot each other with only one shot. This turned out to be somewhat of a gamble because the person who fired to quickly ran a high risk of missing the other person. The result being that this person had to stand still like a sitting duck and let the other person shoot him. Of course the person who waited for the other person to shoot first ran an equally high risk of getting shot before firing his own weapon.

At the end of the evening I had six more bruises to add to my collection of three. One of the first three having hit me squarely in the arse, creating a painful purple bruise which certainly added a certain flair to my walking abilities. The other guys seemed mostly impervious to their injuries, but then everyone was having such fun – like big-boys with toys, men are generally happiest when wielding a gun.

Actually it's not correct to say that everyone present that night was male. There were four girls playing with us and they proved to be rather lethal with guns (one should definitely have great respect for the girls here in Russia - one girl I spoke to knew more about guns than anyone I know, and told me she likes to sit in her back yard with a rifle and shoot at things!).

Yesterday I went with four of the students from English classes to a concert venue called Integral. The place consisted of a big dance floor with a stage for the band and a second floor with a balcony area for looking down on the floor below. Also in the basement below the dance floor there were pool tables and a bar.

There were four different heavy-metal bands playing that evening, two of which were pretty good. Admittedly though I didn't pay much attention to the music as it was way too interesting watching all the people, most of whom were aged between sixteen and eighteen and dressed in very gothic black clothing. Many were quite drunk and they would assemble in groups of four or five, arms locked around each others shoulders and heads rythmically jerking up and down with long hair flying.

The place was quite crowded by 10pm and so I headed down to the basement to play pool for a while. Upon arriving in the basement I discovered that three teenage men were busy having a fight in one corner so naturally I stopped to watch but it didn’t last long as four security guards quickly arrived on the scene, grabbed the fighters and threw them bodily out of the main doors. Security definitely seems to be a high priority in this city and I find it remarkable how many police and security men there are at every venue in the city. Even the school where I work has a full-time security guard on duty. Though security men here are a little different from England. They are heavily built soldier types dressed in army-fatigues, body-armour and generally also armed. I can safely say that I feel infinitely safer in this city than back home in a city like Gloucester.

Today I was walking through the central square of Izhevsk and I realised that I have omitted to describe the extraordinary architectures which were built there for the new years celebrations and which are mostly still intact.

The central square is a large flat area about half a kilometre square and bordered on three sides by: the town hall, the main theatre building and the main cinema. The square is at one of the highest points in the city and so on the open side there is a wonderful view out across the frozen lake to the forests on the other side.

In the centre of the square was placed an enormous fir tree which was decorated in dazzling coloured ribbons and lights. Around this fir tree was built beautiful, life-sized palace turrets and walls made entirely of ice! Words cannot describe how impressive this monument looked, even though there was just walls. The walls and turrets were made of solid blocks of ice two foot by one foot which were cut from the lake. The main entrance gateway was chisled out of the ice into a likeness of two rearing horses (lifesize). It was quite a sight to stand there at night under the stars and see all the lights reflecting off the ice everywhere. Along one of the ice walls the builders had cleverly embedded electric lights inside the walls to make a lit passageway to follow. The whole thing must have taken many weeks to construct as they had even made an ice maze in one part of the palace for the children.

The weather is still all a bit topsy-turvy here and has been for almost a week now. Sometimes it will be freezing cold with lots of snow and then there will be the occasional day of bright sun and perfect blue skies and then back to leaden grey skies and whiteness. Two days ago it was so warm that the temperature reached 4C and I got rained on! Can you imagine it! I travelled two thousand miles to escape the English weather to live in Izhevsk and then I get rained on! The Russian people are also amazed at the behaviour of the weather and keep remarking on how damned unusual it is (the suspicious glances at me are getting more frequent now – as if I would want to mess with the weather and make it like in England?!).

Anyway, today everything is back to normal again and the temperature is a bracing –24C with half a foot of new snow which fell during the night. This new state of affairs with the weather would be considerably more exciting if I hadn’t somehow succeeded in losing one of my gloves. (My left hand is beginning to look mutinously at me every time I go outside).

This evening the family I live with broke open another large bottle of Kampot which is a home-made fruit juice made using pickled-cherries. Each year in the summer the family half-fills a dozen massive jars with cooked cherries and some sugar and these jars are then sealed with metal-lids and opened in wintertime to make delicious juice (diluted with water).

Also an interesting thing happened yesterday while I was sitting in a cafe chatting (in English). A white-haired American man walked passed our table and then stopped and said in a surprised tone of voiceÅ ÓYou’re American?!Ô. To which I naturally replied, Ówell actually I’m EnglishÔ. He then inroduced himself and told me he is from the U.S and is very pleased to meet me, after which he carried on his way. He was clearly pleasantly surprised to come across somebody speaking English and for me it was nice to know that there are actually five foreigners in this city and not four as I had first thought.

Today I finished my lessons at school by 1pm and as there are no more evening classes and the sun was shining I decided to pick a direction and head off on a long walk. The temperature was only about –7C and the clear, deep blue skies and bright warm sun on my face was a welcome change.

I walked for about an hour along the side of the frozen lake and up past the big monument. (which looks like a pair of enormous skiis standing upright in the snow.) Eventually I came to the top of the hundreds of steps and arrived on the top of what would be classed the biggest hill in Izhevsk but would barely class as a small hill in Gloucestershire.

The view from this vantage point was excellent and as it was such a clear day I could see far further than on any previous days (usually visibility in Izhevsk is less than a kilometre as the view is obscured by thousands of big snowflakes drifting down onto a white vista from a hazy grey sky). However, today I could see nearly fifteen kilometres across the lake to the forest on one side and the many factories spewing great white plumes of steam on the other side. The lake itself was like a rolling dune-covered desert stretching into the distance, of course these were not sand-dunes but snow-dunes and here and there the pristine glittering whiteness would be broken by small, black, penguin shaped dots (fishermen).

At this point I stretched out on the steps for a five minute rest, but it was so quiet and peaceful and the sun was so relaxing and warm and the snow was so nice and soft that my five minutes soon became fifteen minutes and then thirty minutes. Sitting and serenly observing the occasional cascade of snow falling from the birch trees nearby or watching the millions of sparkles reflecting off the snow was very meditative and quite hypnotic. Of course someone inevitably came and interrupted my reverie but I didn’t really mind as he turned out to be a kind old Russian gentleman in well-worn, village style clothing. He was smoking a pipe and appeared to be out on his morning stroll.

He stopped and talked a minute with me in a friendly manner, allbeit in rather rapid Russian and I nodded my head sagely, although I confess that his words meant little to me. From the few words that I understood it seemed that he was inquiring if I was a homeless person who was in need of aid and money. At first I was a little taken aback until I realized that he had seen my big green rucksack and, as Russians never carry bags, had probably assumed that I was carrying all my worldly possessions with me in the rucksack. Well of course I assured him that I was fine and he wandered off, leaving me wondering if this kindly old man had really offered to help me. Actually I suspect that there is no way he could have not realised that I was a foreigner, everyone else seems to have no difficulty identifying me.

Today was cold. Today was very cold. Today was –28C. Last night there were clear skies and a large bright moon sitting just above the horizon. This morning the skies were still clear and upon waking I was greeted by an extraordinary hazy dawn of many muted purples, yellows and reds merging under a brightening cyan sky. The view across the city from my window on the 9th floor of the building was excellent and I couldn’t help but notice how still everything is when the weather is so cold. There were no birds, no people, no cars and no wind in the trees. Just a white vista below a grey haze reaching up towards the multicoloured dawn covering the horizon.

About 11am I departed with Svetlana by tram for the hospital where I was to have my medical examination. By the time we arrived at the hospital the sun had already climbed as high up in the sky as it was intending to reach and the sky was again a crystal clear blue with not a cloud in sight.

As we walked from the tram to the hospital Svetlana had to stop frequently to wait for me as I was walking like someone in a dream, staring around in awe like some kind of tourist from Outer Mongolia visiting New York for the first time. Svetlana seemed a bit bemused about what was up with me and a few other people also looked around, worriedly trying to locate the source of such fascination, but seeing nothing out of the ordinary they simply shrugged their shoulders and continued walking.

Actually the phenomena which had captured my attention was the millions of small snow particles which were drifting slowly down through the air from the surrounding trees and buildings. The only description I can give is that it was something like being in faeryland - the bright sun was glittering continuously off every snow particle as if they were small diamonds drifting around. The virgin snow on the surrounding fields and paths was also reflecting thousands of golden sunbeams and the whole scene was quite surreal. Coming back from the hospital took equally long as, unlike the Russians, I never grew tired of watching this phenomena which fortunately lasted almost the whole day until the sun set.

The visit inside the hospital was also very interesting. Like English hospitals it consisted of several enormous buildings that were designed in such a way as to lose anybody who tries to navigate their twisting corridors and stairs. The architects of this hospital had really taken this idea and made it into an art form! The hospital had incredibly long corridors and countless twisting stairways that often looped back on themselves or took you to a completely different ward and very soon my sense of direction had gone on permanent leave.

Fortunately the Father of the family that I’m staying with is a surgeon at this hospital and he made all the arrangements and took me to the many different examination rooms. First I had to strip to the waist and lie near an ultrasonic machine linked to a computer monitor while the doctor examined my chest with an ultrasonic probe. Then we went to another department where I was told to strip to the waist while they probed for abnormalities in organs like the liver and bowels. Next they took a blood sample which was rushed off to the lab for analysis while we waited! Amazing service! If only hospitals in England were like this.

After this we walked through a maze of corridors to the other side of the hospital where we arrived in a room filled with enormous and very advanced looking scanners and X-ray machines. By now I knew the drill and didn’t need to wait for the translation before stripping to the waist. I was told to stand against a (very cold) glass target screen while they aimed a large X-ray machine at me. Then they told me not to breathe and disappeared into a back room. It’s all very well telling someone not to breathe or move for a few minutes, but I was more than a little nervous by this time and I it’s very hard to successfully stand motionless without breathing, while standing in front of a large Xray machine that looks like some kind of weapon.

Fortunately the X-ray image was only a little blurred and the fascination of seeing a photo of one’s insides quickly removed any remaining traces of nervousness. The wizened old Russian doctor, who spent several minutes peering at all of the reports and xrays, scratched his head for a bit before announcing that there was nothing wrong with me. After another pause he added as an afterthought that he reckoned I would probably have an extremely long lifespan.

After so many hours of examinations this was a little bit of an anticlimax, I was expecting at least to be told that I was missing an organ or had three extra ribs or something. Actually the only health problems I have encountered since arriving in Russia is problems with cracked and dry skin that are a result of the extreme weather conditions here. My lips get very cracked if I don’t keep remembering to put lipseal cream on them and my hands look like I’ve had a bit of a battle with a cheese grater (I recommend bringing handcream if living here during winter). The local people do not seem to be affected so much by these problems and I am rather hoping that after three or four months here I will be immune to the weather too!

Today I went ice-skating in the big indoor skating rink. Three of the English students went with me and arranged the tickets and skate-hire for me, which was fortunate as one cannot hire skates unless one has a passport with one!

This skating rink had several advantages over the outdoor stadium version. The ice was very much smoother and flatter, there was a sound system with disco music and also the whole place was temperature controlled so one can skate anytime and need not worry about it being –18C outside. Of course the drawback here was that there were no snow drifts to fall into and no snow to use for snowball fights.

By some strange miracle I stayed on my feet for the whole hour without any accidents, although certain muscles were protesting strongly by the end of the session. It’s interesting how many new muscles that one discovers can ache while ice-skating and how unfit these muscles are.

Yesterday I was again in the large indoor skating rink, except that this time it was unrecognizable as a rink as it they had converted it to a rock stadium for the concert that night. The band that played was called Alisia is quite a famous Russian rock band who are currently touring Russia. The day before I had bought a few tickets and convinced one of the students to come with me. The band Alisia are well-respected rock veterans on a par with English bands such as U2.

The concert was an impressive one – it seemed that no money had been spared to ensure that there was an impressive bank of speakers the size of a house and lightshows and smoke FX to match. The music was quite good and there was a great atmosphere there with people dancing and waving in time to the music. For some of the quieter, sadder songs the spotlights dimmed and many people held up lighters like hundreds of candle flames waving in the darkness.

Tomorrow I will travel six hours by bus to the neighbouring (350km) city of Perm where I will spend the next four days exploring and hopefully will visit the large caves there which are reputed to be quite famous.

Still haven’t located my missing glove and today I forgot to buy a new pair. Am praying that the temperature in Perm is clement, but it’s some way further north so I don’t hold out much hope. (It’s –18C right now).

The last five days have been culturally very enriching indeed. The chance to visit a new city was not one to be missed and I made the most of the precious time I had and also of course I had two excellent Russian guides to help me. (It would have been a very bewildering experience indeed if I had been there alone as we found no other people who spoke English and the city is enormous – 65km long and has 1 million inhabitants).

The bus journey from Izhevsk was six hours in a somewhat historic bus and this bus (or its driver) had a top speed of about 45 mph which was probably a good thing as the road was covered in snow and ice and had big snowdrifts along both sides. Amazingly we met less than 50 other cars on the road the entire 370km journey, although I might have missed a few as I was so busy staring avidly out of the window at the amazing vista of glittering snowfields and dark snow-laden forests stretching away on all sides up to the rolling hills. However after about an hour of seeing the same mix of white snow, dark green forest and grey sky, I lost interest a little and dozed off to sleep for a while.

I woke up when the bus pulled into the russian equivalent of a service station. It consisted of a wooden log cabin selling tea, coffee and buns, one petrol pump, some broken-down old lorries and farm machinery and two tiny wooden lean-to huts with M and J written in front. These I discovered were the toilets, and I didn’t need anyone to explain this to me as the smell emanating from these two wooden shelters left one in no doubt as to the fact that behind them, there was just a hole in the ground to serve as a toilet.

On arrival in Perm I was happy to discover that it was also unusually warm there also (about 0C) and it was still snowing. The snow on the roads in Perm had turned into a brown, thick and wet slush which was liable to spray all over anyone who stood too close to the road and the fast moving traffic.

In Perm I realised a new and healthy respect for all traffic and particularly that which constitutes the main body of lunatic Russian drivers. My first attempt at crossing the road was almost my last as a bus pulled out nearby and nudged my backside. It was one of several near misses and one learns quickly to realise that after a driver has seen you in the road he is less likely to slow down and more inclined to accelerate – thus turning the whole affair into a game of Ósquash the hedgehog / sethÔ with no prizes for coming second.

My very pretty and smart Russian friend was, fortunately, able to keep me out of harms way for the whole five days and proved to be a most able guide. She had arranged an apartment for us near the centre of the city and we located it within a few minutes and went to unpack our things. (Can you imagine how long it would have taken me in a 65km city which has no maps and just numbers on the sides of buildings!).

The apartment was comfortable and homely with a kitchen, bathroom, bedroom and sitting room with antique wooden bookshelves, tables, soft carpets and picturesque wall hangings. The bookshelves were filled with dusty old Russian literary classics in old plain bindings and in the bedroom (which also served as a study) was another old hardwood writing desk which gave the place an extra air of antiquity.

The apartment was very well-placed in the city, it being just five minutes walk from the main bank, library, theatre and also a grocery store. The first place we visited that very evening was the theatre nearby. It being one of the most impressive buildings in the city and occupying a large open area of parks and an outdoor skating rink. The sheer feeling of space in this city would be a strange feeling for any Englishman (being used to a typical city in England where every inch of available space is occupied by buildings, roads or car parks).

The theatre looked like it was made of a white stone like marble and was one of the biggest buildings I have ever seen, with big roman-style pillars across the front and many tiers of roofs. Inside was equally impressive with lush red carpets, wall-hangings and large mirrors everywhere. the main entrance-hall branched off at either end into large winding staircases which took one up to the second level where there was another large entry-hall with leather sofas and many doors leading into the main auditorium. Here there were hundreds of seats in wide semi-circles all the way down to the big stage below which was hidden by a thick red curtain from which two balconies stretched back on both sides and housed the more expensive seating.

I wanted to see some authentic Russian ballet but we were a little unlucky as the ballet group were having a weeks break so instead we bought tickets for a Russian play / drama. Alla was a little doubtful about my decision to see the play since my Russian was still a rather shaky to say the least, but I assured her that it would be most interesting and, as it turned out, I was right. Even though I understood little of the speech, the acting was really superb and I was able to follow the drama with interest.

The next day we explored all (well it seemed like all) the shops in the city and had some pretty good exercise at the same time as we must have walked nearly 20 km (though my legs informed me in no uncertain terms the next morning that it was more like 30km!). Strangely the shops in Perm were layed out in a more historic style than Izhevsk. Instead of four big shopping centres like Izhevsk, the shops were dotted singly around a large area of streets. The public transport system in Perm was, like Izhevsk, also excellent and there were frequent buses and trams (allbeit rather older trams than Izhevsk).

The buildings in Perm were, if anything, older and more historic than Izhevsk and quite a few reminded me very much of wooden ÓsaloonÔ style buildings that one sees in old American ÓwesternsÔ. Despite this, the shops, cars, people and restaurants were considerably more westernised in Perm and it was for this reason that I decided that Izhevsk was the better of the two cities. The people tended to wear more European clothes in this city - such as jeans, Addidas jogging tops and trainers and nylon jackets and most cars here were Japanese or European rather than Russian. The many varied, and often quite extraordinary vehicles that one can see in Izhevsk was something that endeared and still interests me greatly.

Undoubtedly there was a greater range of goods, particularly clothes, for sale in Perm and one could find a great range of western products as well as more traditional Russian products and foods. On the second day we carefully noted the locations of 3 or 4 western fast-food restaurants like pizza-hut as food like this has become somewhat of a novelty now after six weeks of real traditional home-cooking. (The drawback of these western restaurants is that one pays western prices).

The third day we happened to make the aquaintance of one of the local people and after a long conversation she showed us around a bit and offered to take us to a new theatre to see a comedy play. The theatre was not large and was cleverly hidden down some side streets (we would never have found it without our friendly, local guide). This theatre was very artistic and cultural, and had a classiness about it which was evident not just from the cleverly painted and sculpted walls. Our new friend Irina told us that this theatre was frequented by the more serious ‘arty’ theatre goers and the shows performed here tended to be popular and sold out over a month before the performance.

When we arrived the place was empty and the lady in the ticket desk informed us that there were no more tickets. Well it was most funny as, after five minutes arguing with the lady, Alla testily told the ticket lady that I was, Óan Englishman who has come all the way from England to visit Perm and he isn’t going to wait two weeks for the next performance!Ô. Well after this, three spare tickets suddenly materialised and everyone was happy, in fact the ticket lady looked most fascinated to see a real-live Englishman and as she looked me over from head to toe (maybe to check if we have the same number of legs and arms in England) I felt rather like one of those animals in the cage at the zoo. Judging by all the questions Irina asked me (translated by Alla) I suspect that tourists are an even rarer species in Perm than in Izhevsk.

When we came back to the theatre later that evening we were escorted with everyone else into a small, but cozy auditorium which stretched from the stage up a slight slope towards the back of an oblong room. There was only room for five chairs abreast everyone was so close to each other and to the stage that the whole atmosphere was nicely informal (unlike the larger theatres).

The stage was fairly small but the sets utilized the available space very cleverly and were masterfully arranged to give just the right impressions of the scene. The play was a comedy and was a costume play set in olden times about a family who were trying to get their simpleton son married off to a good lady so he could start his own family. The acting that I saw that evening was out-of-this-world and I suspect that I will probably never see its like again. The audience were frequently in stitches (one or two people were almost comatose from laughing so hard) and I was no exception, for even though I understood only a few words, the acting alone was enough to put me in hysterics from laughing.

The lead role was masterfully played by a blond-haired 20 something man who enacted the part of a simpleton with the mind of a child who thinks he sees little fairy people everywhere. The part was played so realistically that I’m certain that I would have trouble treating the guy seriously if I ever met him outside the theatre. There were nine actors in this play in total and in my opinion the best actor was an old women who was playing the part of the old nursemaid/matron. In terms of speech she had a very small part but the many gestures and facial expressions which she made while standing in the background were so funny that on more than one occasion I burst out laughing while the rest of the audience were busy concentrating on the main actors.

On the fourth day I was out walking with Alla when, by an extraordinary stroke of luck, we happened upon a hall where they were having the last day of a week long art exhibition by a famous Russian artist called ÓPereechÔ. This artist had lived a quite remarkable life and had journeyed all over Tibet, Nepal, China and parts of Mongolia and this was evident in his many and varied paintings.

Never have I seen such a varied number of painting styles from a single artist, Alla had to explain to me three times that each room of the exhibition contained paintings by the same artist! It was sad for me when we arrived in the final room and read from a short bibliography text that this remarkable man had died a few years earlier and the total sum of his paintings were now up for sale. (When I checked the prices I was shocked to see that these incredibly moving and life-like paintings by a master artist should be marked with such ridiculous prices. (most were about 65 pounds and even the large expensive ones were only 220 pounds).

On the fifth day we visited a small museum of old artefacts and historic tools, pots, textiles and woodwork which showed an interesting picture of life in Perm during the past two centuries. In the evening we decided that hadn’t yet had our fill of the arts and culture of Perm and so we went and visited yet another theatre (which was also housed in a most impressive and enormous building). We arrived a little late this time and the ticket desk was closed but fortunately (like most events Russian cities) there were several people standing outside with a few extra tickets which they offered to sell us at rather inflated prices.

We hurriedly bought some tickets and went inside a very smart, carpet clad building with large chandeliers and plush seats. Everything was in a very historic style with red curtains, red carpets and ornate door-handles and bannisters. I felt like I had gone back in time to previous times when the aristocratic people were gather at the theatre to watch an opera. Which was, in fact, what we had come to see that evening and we weren’t disappointed as it turned out.

I can honestly say that I didn’t understand a word of the opera (Russian is difficult enough even when people aren’t singing!). However the interesting period costumes, plush sets and beautifully painted backdrops were enough to keep me interested for most of the opera. The story had a fairly recognizeable theme about two earls or princes and two beautiful women (who were sisters) and the unfortunate events which conspire when both men fall in love with the same woman and try to win her. The opera ended with a pistol duel between the two men in which, fortunately, the man whom the woman really loved, shot the other man and they were married.

The next morning we had to return back to Izhevsk as I was going to be teaching the next morning and so we regretfully decided to leave our visit to the large, authentic Russian circus and the famous underground caverns (apparently the largest in Europe) until the next visit.

After waiting for some time in semi-darkness, while the snowflakes fell thickly all around and gently covered us in a white mantle, our bus pulled up at the stop. This coach was also a bit different from English coaches and looked like it had already survived many long, hard years of use in distant war-torn countries. But after a few mistrustful glances a the blanket covering the area where the metal bonnet should have been, I gratefully climbed on board into the warmth. There was certainly nothing wrong with the heating in this coach and the driver seemed determined to ensure that our trip also included a free sauna.

This driver also wanted to ensure that his bus arrived at the other end still intact and managed to achieve a steady speed of 40mph the whole way which increased our journey time to 7 hours. Though I didn’t mind as I slept most of the journey, waking up for a short period halfway to admire the awesome vista created when the sun rose above the tree-tops in the forest and sent beams of sparkling red fire across the snow. Like the outward journey, I marvelled once again at what a small part of this wilderness immensity was occupied by men. For hundreds of kilometers I saw nothing but an occasional village with a few farms dotted around and then white emptiness with thick forests and the single road stretching straight on into the distance.

After Perm, arriving back in Izhevsk felt like arriving back home to familiar surroundings and more familiar and friendlier people. As I walked from my house to the tram stop I noticed just how many things are beginning to feel like everyday occurrences when really they are still strange and quite inexplicable to me. Seeing parents towing their warmly-clad toddlers everywhere on sleds instead of in pushchairs, seeing people skiing round and round the flat, small park for their morning exercise, seeing poor women sitting at the side of the road in the freezing temperatures trying to make a living selling various nuts, coffee beans or potatoes, seeing old men shovelling snow off the pavements and up on the high roofs of buildings also shovelling snow. Then I walk past the large skips were the rubbish is put and I see the old ladies rummaging there (every day) for anything of value and feel admiration for these people who can endure such great hardships.

Yesterday I went skating once more with three of the students from school in the large outdoor stadium called D-nama. As we walked closer and closer to the stadium the weather steadily worsened until, by the time we had donned our skates, we found ourselves in a thick snowstorm. When the snow is falling thickly the silence that abounds is quite surreal as the snow deadens all sound and one couldn’t see far enough ahead to see many of the other people so it was rather like skating blind. Also the snow completely covered the ice, effectively hiding all the small bumps and holes.

This week I also went for the first time to a Russian cinema, the biggest in Izhevsk (although it still had only one screen). I went there with my best friend Alla and a friend of hers to watch a film called American sweetheart. The film was American but had been dubbed over with Russian voices and so I didn’t understand much but it was very funny all the same. Actually I spent the first fifteen minutes admiring the cinema building which reminded me of an old drama theatre or concert hall. The room was enormous and filled with wooden seats in semi-circles which gradually rose up to the back of the hall where there were balconies up above. Strangely the place was almost empty, but when I asked Alla about this she told me that cinema is not popular in Izhevsk because it is expensive (75p) and most people prefer to watch videos at home.

Today I took my guitar in to the school and had three hours teaching class 3 and class 6 pupils to sing Beatles songs. We also sang some songs by Louis Armstrong and Joan Osborne and also some nursery rhymes for the younger children. The whole day was great fun for children and teacher alike and I felt that the two classes learnt more English in lessons today than in previous lessons. In fact the head of the English department has asked me to come with my guitar again next week and teach some other classes..

On Friday night I went with a group of medical students to a place called Maladorjeh Tsentre which is a real nice club/restaurant where one can drink, listen to DJ music, dance and eat all in the same place. Later that evening was a special event which turned out to be a live performance by a professional group of girls performing something called ‘show ballet’. I had never heard of this or seen it before but everyone looked a little awed and by the clapping and the general air of expectation I gathered that it was a special kind of event.

A few seconds later everyone cleared a big area on the dance floor, a chair was placed in the middle and the DJ began playing a mix of music between a kind of Arabian snake charming music and a trance beat. Almost immediately three lithe young women came dancing out from behind a curtain and proceeded to perform the most impressive ten minutes of dancing I have ever seen. The speed with which they moved was quite bewildering at times and it was not so much just dancing as a mix between Russian ballet, Arabian belly dancing and gymnastics. Sometimes they would cartwheel around the floor or perform back-flips or somersaults over the chair and all in time to the music and in synchronisation with each other. Needless to say the applause afterwards was ecstatic and both men and women in the audience were highly impressed and admittedly I just stood there for some minutes with my mouth open in awe.

The next morning I went again to the big indoor sports centre here and had an excellent hour playing tennis. It felt a bit strange to be wearing shorts and T-shirt after so many weeks wearing layers and layers of clothing but I was so hot after playing tennis that I would gladly have run outside and jumped into a snowdrift. The sports centre is really excellent and has six good quality tennis courts. Although they are always very busy and so everyone must book a weekly slot in order to play.

I was writing some of my diary entries last night and the snow was falling thickly the whole time so that by morning the paths and fields looked new and pristine again. As I emerged from the house for work at about 11am I was enveloped in bright sunshine and had to shield my eyes. There were blue skies, warm breezes and the sun was glinting off all the new snow and illuminating the enormous icicles lining all the roofs. As usual at times like these I wondered at how one never seems to have a camera handy at the right moments.

Today is a national holiday in Russia - it is called "women's day" which means us men do lots of work, help out, give flowers and make everything nice like on St Valentines day. I think it’s a good day and really it’s only fair since we had "men's day" only three weeks ago and then the roles were reversed. This is my first time experiencing womens day and I booked a special trip to the nearby city of Kazan for three days with my friend.

Our bus departed early so I reluctantly stumbled out of bed at some ungodly hour in the morning (it was still dark which is most definitely not the normal thing for someone like me who gets up about ten or eleven whenever possible).

The bus journey to Kazan turned out to be a bit different from similar journeys in England (I should have known this by now) so sleeping on the bus turned out to be virtually impossible. The term 'bus' needs to be used loosely here as this was more like a toyota van (minus the shock obsorbers).

I always used to wonder why vehicles needed suspension AND shock absorbers too. Well today I found out that a vehicle without shock absorbers is kind of like a moon buggy and each time we hit a pothole in the road the van's suspension would propel us, like high-velocity rockets, into the (thank god) padded roof of the van. For the first half an hour it was really wild and I enjoyed it a lot as it was like some kinda ride at a funfair, but these Russian roads didn't just contain the odd small hole but thousands of kilometers of 'ICBM' style pits which really most resembled bomb craters and we held on tightly to each other and watched as our luggage hurtled around the van . . . for seven hours. There were the odd few exciting moments when the driver would swerve to avoid the largest craters and speed along on the wrong side of the road while trying to avoid the cars coming the other way!!

We arrived in Kazan about 1pm in the afternoon and quickly stowed our bags in the hotel before heading out on our first guided excursion around the city of Kazan. There were five other people who had accompanied us to Kazan and were also going on the tour with us, they were quite a mixed lot and didn’t really talk much to each other (or us). There was a newly married couple about the same age as us who were here on their honeymoon, then there was two sisters aged about 11 and 20 who were really nice and were fascinated by everything on the trip (I guess it was probably their first, it's a funny thing but most of the Russians I have met have never been to any other cities except their home city and Moscow).

The tour guide who climbed into our bus to give us the tour was quite a character and had a very gregarious, funny and open manner. Kazan must be one seriously interesting city with a long history because this guy managed to talk continuously without stopping for nearly three hours. I didn't understand anything he said as it was all in Russian but he managed to make the others on the tour laugh which was quite an accomplishment considering how silent they were most of the time.

Kazan has an unbelievable forty moscues (sorry I can't even spell the word) and all of these were built in the most amazing style and were certainly impressive buildings with their domed roofs glittering blue, green or gold. We were able to go inside some of the mosques, though fortunately Alla was able to translate to me the sign that said "no photography" as otherwise I would probably have been kicked right out the door by some irate priest.

The interiors of these mosques was as impressive as the exterior and every available inch of wall space was taken up by amazing gold patterns or inspiring paintings of saints and religious gatherings. There were candles everywhere and when I first entered the building I thought there musta been some kinda hippy gathering earlier as there was a lot of thick smoke and it smelled of some strange kind of herbs, but then I realised it was coming from all the candles and the large censer of incense hanging from the middle of the large main hall (complete with high domed roof).

One of the mosques was a Muslim moscue (maybe they all were, I don’t really know ‘cos I'm not really religious myself). Anyway in this mosque everyone had to take their shoes and hats off as otherwise it would be an insult to the religion. Well I didn't know about the hat part and so I got stopped by a funny looking dude in a long black robe with a high hat and seriously long beard. He said something in rapid Russian and pointing animatedly at my woolen snowboarding hat. I didn't understand what he said but it probably translated to something like; "take your hat off right now mate or I'm gonna kick your arse". So I took my hat off pronto and everyone was friendly again.

After that we visited the main landmark in Kazan which is the Kremlin. Apparently this kremlin is even older and more historic than the one in Moscow and I'd be inclined not to argue with that as it was indeed a very impressive kind of little acropolis perched on the hill in the centre of the city. There was a single smart street lined with fir trees and running along each side were large historical looking government buildings (all freshly painted and covered in lots of snow). At the end of the street were two very impressive moscues (sheesh, I still can't spell this word, must remember to buy a dictionary).

The view out over the battlements and over the rest of the city was really something and I wish I could've stayed longer but it was March (still winter in this country) and the temperature was like -3C and with a force 6 gale blowing so everyone was looking rather blue and not appreciating the scenery as they should. Just outside the kremlin was a large and patriotically awe-inspiring statue of a flag waving communist soldier fighting for freedom. I have an excellent photo of me standing near the statue attempting the same pose, though my face was looking a little blue (perhaps due to the gale-force wind, falling snow etc..).

Next we all piled into the van and headed off to another part of the city to find a few parties or clubs or whatever. First we arrived at the main street of Kazan which is a long western-style pedestrian boulevard. Speakers had been rigged up all down the street and there was western pop songs playing and also western style cinemas and high-street shops and cafes (even a McDonalds!). Naturally this was a bit of a downer for me as I would have stayed at home in England if I wanted that kind of thing but my friends liked it and after a while we gave up trying to get information about clubs and theatres (they don't have tourist information bureaus in Russia) so we headed into McDonalds for the full McDonalds happy meal with milkshakes, apple pies etc..etc..

Next morning we emerged yawning from our hotel rooms and after a quick breakfast we all piled in the van again with our guide and drove almost an hour out of the city to what I think is one of the remotest places on earth. And guess what, in the middle of this forest at the end of a small unused track.. a Christian orthodox monastery. This monastery had been left almost in ruin for eighty years and then had been rebuilt in the mid 1990's by some monks so that it has now become a proper working monastery. I have to say that I've only visited two monasteries before this and this one was a whole lot more impressive plus it was very old having been built over 400 years earlier.

It consisted of about 5 large main buildings in a big compound with a well and vegetable gardens and the whole thing was surrounded by solid looking high walls with bell towers at each corner. The main hall was particularly impressive with it's large sparking green domes and clean white walls. Inside was like the moscues in Kazan but on a much grander scale with huge and very detailed paintings covering every inch of wall space.

Running along one side of the monastery was a good sized river but it was completely frozen over and covered in snow drifts so it was easy to miss. There was snow everywhere and a stiff wind so it felt like we were in a blizzard (though the cat sitting outside the main building guarding the door didn't seem to mind the cold). I was going to stroke it but the guide sternly informed me that it was not allowed so I guess it was maybe a holy cat or something.

When we arrived back in Kazan (rubbing our slightly bruised heads from the authentic experience of driving on real Russian roads) we had the whole evening to explore the city more and see the differences in the shops, buildings and the people (they were half tartars and half Russians). The shops were more like western shops and so not very interesting for me and aside from the moscues and kremlin I thought the buildings were quite run-down and not anything like as good as those in Izhevsk. The people were interesting as their appearance was quite a bit different and they tended to have slightly darker skins and mostly brown eyes.

The trains here in Russia are totally cool. They are pretty long and the engine at the front of the train looks like some real beefy, no-nonsense sort of engine, though it's not like it has to travel at high-speed as all the trains here seem to travel everywhere at a constant 50mph. The carriages also look pretty big and each one has a chimney with smoke coming out so I guess they all have their own stove to heat the thing. Each carriage also has a big samolvar full of hot water which people can use to make cups of tea when they want. The carriages are split up into about six compartments with a long passage running down the side and each compartment has a table and two bunk-beds on each side which are well comfortable and come complete with pillows and bedding so you can have a good sleep no problem. (Trust me you need beds for most journeys in Russia - to go from Moscow to Kamachaka takes 7 days!).

This week I have had three lessons where the children didn't want the lesson to finish when the bell went and they actually stayed on through their break. I’m told this is unusual, so I guess I must be doing something right – plus I’m told that the children laugh more in my classes than is usual (I'm beginning to think that for me the dividing line between teacher and comedian is definitely beginning to blur). Anyway for myself, I think that it is important to make the children laugh and to make the lesson interesting because then they are more perceptive to the material that you are trying to teach them).

Next week will be a two day celebration marking the birth of Tchaikovsky who was born and lived in a small town close to Izhevsk called Vodkinskaya. Today I am going to buy tickets to the theatre to see a famous ballet group from the city of Perm perform in honour of Tchaikovsky, it will be my first time seeing a ballet performance and should prove to be interesting.

A few weeks ago I requested that my visa be extended from the original three months to six months and was expected that it would be no problem. But then suddenly last night I was told that Russian bureaucracy made it impossible to extend the visa without leaving the country and as my visa was due to expire tomorrow, I hurriedly bought train tickets and jumped on the next train to Moscow (- I didn't want to wait and get the authentic, and most likely very interesting experience, of being deported to some place that I probably wouldn't want to goÅever!).

The train journey from Izhevsk to Moscow was twenty hours and I shared a compartment for this time with a strange bunch of Russians. I can't really say much about them as they didn't say a single word for the entire journey. The lady in the bunk-bed above me was about 24 and looked like an academic student of some kind and the guy on the other bed was about 55, dressed in a tatty business suit. He must have weighed well over 20 stone and if I had been the lady sleeping in the bed below I would have been shitting myself because the whole bed bulged worryingly under his weight when he climbed onto it.

I didn't really sleep much the whole journey, but at least I wasn't the only one who didn't sleep as the two ladies were finding it difficult too. In fact the only one in our compartment who slept (like a log) without any problems was the other guy and he had a throat like some kind of steamship foghorn and each snore made the table vibrate and the windows rattle!

Once we arrived at the main station in Moscow it was necessary to decide which form of transport to take to the airport which was 50km away. As I had plenty of time and didn’t want to spend much money I opted for taking the metro (underground). Finding the metro station was no problem. Buying the metro ticket was no problem either. Finding some platforms was also no problem Å but knowing which platform and which train to get was a problem. I asked various people and also some platform attendants which train I needed for Sheremetvovo airport but despite my much improved Russian, nobody seemed to have ever heard of a train which goes to the airport. It’s really amazing how different the people are in Moscow to those in real Russian cities. They are very like people in London – very busy and very unfriendly towards foreigners so I gave up on the metro and just got a taxi instead.

Yesterday after some hours negotiating queues of people to get to baggage check-in and then more queues of people to get through passport control I boarded my Aeroflot plane and flew back to London. The flight across western Russia and over Belarus provided a quite extraordinary view as there was no clouds and for some hours I saw just an enormous vista of green forests, brown hills and frozen blue/white lakes. There was no sign of cities or roads or any habitation by man in this whole area which must have been many times the size of Britain.

Naturally we could tell when we were approaching the English coast because the sunny blue skies disappeared and we entered a thick blanket of grey clouds followed by an impenetrable white fog which enveloped our plane right up to the point when we landed at heathrow where (oh surprise!) it was raining.

Strangely I was pretty much the only English guy on board the plane as, judging by their conversations, everyone else was Russian. So I couldn't help wondering what happened to the packed plane full of English and Americans who flew out to Russia with me three months previously. As soon as the plane had landed safely all the Russians on board began cheering, clapping wildly and applauding the pilot - this was understandably worrying for me and I was seriously beginning to wonder why Russians should be so surprised when a plane lands safely.

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The airport staff at Heathrow seemed intent on proving that they were just as inefficient as the staff at Moscow airport as our baggage took well over an hour to arrive. Next we proceeded to passport control and here the British authorities again proved to be equally as derogatory towards foreigners as the Russian authorities had been since there was just one lane open for all the Russian passengers (and hence an enormous queue) and there were three lanes open for EEC passport holders (which proved to be basically just me!).

Once out in the main airport concourse I wandered about looking for a cashpoint machine as I only had Russian roubles on me. It felt very weird to be walking around and suddenly able to understand all of the conversations going on around me (after three months of understanding almost nothing anybody was saying). However it didn’t click for a while that I could actually just ask somebody where a cashpoint was (in Russia I had just become accustomed to not bothering to ask people anything since they didn't speak the same language as me anyway).

27/03/02

Arrived in Moscow at 6am this morning and after an unusually uneventful trip across Moscow I and Alla finally walked out from the metro station into bright sunshine and clear blue skies. The view before me caught my eyes immediately and almost literally took my breath away (it was kind of windy) and we just stood and stared for a while.

Red square stretched away into the distance in both directions and was dominated in the centre by a quite enormous and imposing fortress-like structure which Alla proudly informed me was the Kremlin. The many buildings of the Kremlin dominated the skyline and were completely surrounded by very thick looking walls made of red-brick which must have been close to a hundred feet tall all around with two main gates big enough to sail a large ship through.

To the left side of the Kremlin we could see the part of red-square that I would associate with pictures I have seen of enormous soviet military parades with tanks and missiles etc.. This part of red-square was an enormous flat, square expanse of cobbled ground surrounded on one side by the Kremlin, on one side by other high and historic looking buildings and on the remaining two sides by very beautiful and large mosques with their domed minarets sparkling in the bright sunlight.

To the right side of the Kremlin the view was quite different and was comprised of a big park with many trees, big areas which must be covered by grass during the summer and many pathways which wended between the trees and various imposing metal statues of famous soviet leaders.

The main difference that struck me when comparing this area with places in English cities was the sheer difference in scale of the buildings and the areas of open space. I could hardly believe that we were standing in the centre of a large metropolis because there was a huge amount of space everywhere, very wide roads and most of the buildings all around were very, very big but horizontally, not vertically like the many skyscrapers found in London.

We spent several hours exploring around red square and around the edge of the Kremlin, although we couldn’t go inside the Kremlin and when I politely asked one of the many soldiers on guard if I could go inside and have a bit of a chat with president Putin he just scowled at me so I got the feeling that Putin wasn’t keen on visitors that day. Actually there were so many large buildings housed inside the Kremlin complex that I couldn’t help wondering just how many politicians are in the Russian government as this place could have easily housed 500 politicians and a couple of thousand of their personal guests too, so I felt a little miffed that Putin didn’t want me to go in and visit him for a day or two.

After several hours of walking around and admiring the many big and patriotically inspiring statues, the mosques, Lenin’s morgue and the many real tough-looking soldiers and their equally real Kalashnikov rifles we decided to sit in the beautifully warm sun and eat ice-creams. I was still a bit miffed that all the snow had gone in the three weeks that I had been away from Russia and was also surprised how much the termperature had risen from the –5C when I left to the +10C when I came back and there were a large number of people walking around (although the place still looked quite empty as there was simply so much space!).

Next we decided to and explore some of the shops and streets nearby as we felt that we simply didn’t have enough time or energy to walk completely around the Kremlin (it was that massive!). The shops here were very classy and elegant and the prices were quite ridiculous. Most of these shops were selling similar things to what one could buy in London or Paris or New York and so I didn’t find them interesting. In fact when we finally found a normal food market I noticed that the prices for standard things such as cakes, juice or bread were about double that of the prices in other Russian cities such as Izhevsk.

28/03/02

After our twenty hour train journey aboard our very cosy Russian train (complete with beds, food and tea) we arrived once more in Izhevsk where I was slightly comforted by the fact that there was still a fair bit of rather dirty-looking snow around (though it was melting quite quickly in the warm sun and blue skies).

Admittedly I was somewhat surprised to find that the weather here was like the weather I had left behind in England although the temperature here was only about +1C but still it was much warmer than when I left three weeks earlier.

08/04/02

Well the last week has been fairly uneventful although the weather has been warm and sunny the whole week and it has been most strange to see that most parts of the city are totally bone dry and dusty or sandy, whilst in the parts where the remaining mounds of snow are melting there is torrents of meltwater flowing into the drains.

Since I arrived here in Izhevsk we have had two days when the temperature suddenly dropped to about –12C and I was pretty cold but since then it has been above zero everyday and a few days have reached +11C. All of the roads and most of the pavements are now completely clear of snow and just quite covered in dust and rubbish as they don’t have council people who are paid to clean the pavements and parks.

23/04/02

This week is the annual clean-up week in Izhevsk which is a somewhat remarkable tradition started under communism and still working to a fairly great extent now. Basically everybody spends a few days away from work during the week to go out and work as volunteer street cleaners and collect up all the rubbish surrounding their home and work buildings.

I have seen many people out on the streets with rakes and spades for some days now and it’s amazing how clean most parts of Izhevsk are already. Unfortunately there is one minor drawback to the plan. The concept of taking rubbish to landfill sites hasn’t quite taken off here yet and so everyone has been simply raking the rubbish into big piles which they then cover in sticks and dry leaves and set fire to it. I can tell you it’s quite a sight (like something out of a war scene) to be walking along the road at night and see countless fires flaming or smoldering away around the whole city. These fires all have a fairly high content of plastic rubbish and the thick plumes of smoke that they have been sending up have resulted in a perpetual twilight over most of the city which is not pleasant and must be fairly toxic. The first evening I saw this phenomena I marvelled at it because I thought it was mist or fog (which would be quite surprising in a region of zero moisture content like Udmurtia).

29/04/02

The annual clean-up of Izhevsk finished some days ago and the city is back to normal now without any fires or smog, and it has to be said it looks amazingly clean on the streets and pavements now.

The last three days I have felt like I’m in a city in the middle east not in Russia because the weather, while still extremely dry and dusty, has also been very hot, sunny and cloudless. The temperature during the day has been well over 20C and yet everyone is still walking around in trousers and sweaters and even coats! I have decided (under protest) to also wear trousers during this time but only because of the looks of downright horror from my Russian friends when I mentioned the word ‘shorts’. It looks like people don’t often wear shorts in Izhevsk and since they are so embarrassed at the thought of walking with me if I wear shorts, I have decided to follow the flock and wear trousers like everyone else. One of the other volunteers turned up in shorts yesterday but he was getting so many stares from people around that I think he came in trousers today.

Today and tomorrow also look like being equally hot but today and tomorrow I will be in another city 600km to the east and I am hoping that it will be colder there.

01/05/02

The last two days have been very interesting and also very tiring. On the 29th I boarded a train with Alla for our trip to the city of Yekaterinburg which is the capital of the Urals region in Russia and is somewhat larger than Izhevsk with a bigger population.

Our train trip was considerably less comfortable than previous trips I have made in Russia because we were only able to buy 3rd class tickets which means that one is in an open compartment with 30 beds and much less privacy and less quiet. For some reason the designers of these carriages seem to have decided that people travelling in 3rd class carriages are much shorter than average and so the beds are only about 5’4Ô long. Thus for the whole eleven hour journey I tried to sleep with half of my feet sticking out past the end of the bed and into the corridor and, it being fairly dark in the carriage at night, I found that people walking to the toilet kept walking into my feet. (I was in the top bunk so it was usually their face which bumped into my not very aromatic feet).

When we arrived in Yekaterinburg it was 8am in the morning and everywhere was already crowded with people. For some strange reason you can only buy train tickets for a journey from the station you’re at and not for a return journey and so when we arrived in Yekaterinburg we immediately went to try and buy tickets for out trip home. Inside the station was very hot and stuffy and as usual in Russia there were about 25 ticket cashiers but only 4 of them were manned and the queues were very long. We waited with the other hot, sweaty and quite frustrated people for over half an hour in the queue, only to be told that it was not possible to buy tickets for our train until after 3pm.

Next we walked out under clear blue skies and bright sun and explored some of the city for a few hours. Yekaterinburg is quite a smart, clean city with many large buildings in interesting designs and the usual vast amount of space which is the noticeable thing with all Russian cities. A river flows through the city and in the centre of the city a lock has been built to damn the river and create a small and picturesque lake with boats and also a park to sit in.

Like Perm and Kazan, this city is more westernised than Izhevsk and had some larger shopping centres with posh shops selling western goods and clothes. Everything was more expensive here than Izhevsk and when we went to the cinema in the evening it cost 6 dollars for a ticket!

After a while exploring the sun was really begin to shine brightly and the temperature was equally as hot as Izhevsk and so we went next to the British embassy which was housed in a rather drab, big brick building in a somewhat squalid part of the city.

The entrance to the building was surrounded by armed guards and barriers but once we got passed all the metal detectors and went upstairs we found that it was a very smart, new and comfortable embassy with plenty of chairs and tables, plants and interesting posters to look at on the walls which showed various imagery and info about life in England. There were only four other people there and there were two cashier windows so we only had to be there for less than an hour.

The staff at the embassy were very smart and professional with a hi-tec office and computers to process the visa information. In fact the whole atmosphere was incredibly different from my experience in the Russian embassy in London where I had to wait for two hours in a very hot, tiny and dingy room with about fifteen other frustrated people who all had to stand because there was only two chairs.

After a five minute interview in which an English guy asked 7 or 8 questions and checked the documents they told us that Alla would receive a visa. We noticed however that most of the other people in the room were denied visas.

After exploring more of the city we navigated the crowds of people and arrived back at the train station to try and buy our tickets back to Izhevsk. The large station was crowded with people and although they now had eight of the twenty cashiers open there were still very long queues which were hardly even moving. The temperature inside the station was now unbearably hot, stuffy and smelly and there were no chairs so we stood in the queue over an hour and a half only to be told that the tickets for our train were already sold out and we could only buy 3rd class tickets to a town 65km away from Izhevsk on a train which would depart at 2am in the morning!

After visiting some of the fast food restaurants and also going to the cinema, we went back to the station. I remarked many times at the amazing number of soldiers wandering aimlessly around the station (many of whom were only about 15 or 16 years old). Also I couldn’t help noticing that there was a greater mix of people here in Yekaterinburg including a great number of southern Russians with darker skins and black hair and also some people with tanned, leathery, wrinkled skins, black hair and narrow eyes who looked to be from areas around mongolia. At 2am we boarded our train for the ten hour journey back home and finally arrived at about 1pm.

03/05/02

Yesterday was the last day of the evening English classes with the adult students and the next classes will not begin until early September so Vladimir arranged a big end-of-term football get-to-together for all the students and volunteers.

At 11am we duly made our way to meet at the school and upon arrival there we discovered there was already a large gathering of people standing in many small groups and all talking and laughing excitedly. There must have been about fifty of Vladimirs English students gathered there and after a few more had arrived we made our way in a large flock towards the football pitch at the technical university which is about 2km away. Strangely Vladimir was the only one who had come with a bike and so I guess he hadn’t told most people where we would be playing.

As we all walked along the road in a long gaggle of people I noticed that our ranks seemed to be swelling and every now and then people would wave and shout hello’s as extra students joined us in one’s and two’s along the way. By the time we all arrived, rather hot and sweaty (the sun was bright and the temperature well over 20C), at the stadium we were a company about 70 strong and all ready and geared up for a day of having fun.

Arranging the forthcoming football games turned out to be rather more difficult than expected as everyone was too busy talking and chatting with long-lost friends and Vladimir didn’t seem to know how to organize the teams when everyone kept moving around to pose for group photos and not staying in the same place. Everyone seemed to have brought cameras (except me) and they all wanted pictures of themselves with the volunteers as they would probably not see most of the volunteers after the summer. I don’t know how many photos I posed for but I felt like some kind of model or something and after a while I was even running out of amusing expressions to pull.

Eventually after an hour and a half the teams had been arranged (in a very haphazard fashion) and the first two matches got under way on the two half-size football pitches. There were five teams altogether and it had been decided that each of the five volunteers should be a team captain which was a bit of a joke really as three of us had never played football before and the other two were rusty to say the least.

As my team gathered together in a group to discuss tactics I got the sinking feeling that this would not be the most orderly match in history as nobody was wearing special shirts or anything at all to indicate which team they were on so I was beginning to wonder how the hell I would know who were my team-mates when I had the ball. Fortunately Rowdy, the American volunteer and captain of the other team also had no idea how to identify his own team so we launched into the first game.

After the first few minutes of abject chaos I looked around and asked one of my team where the referee was. He must have sensed the slight note of concern in my voice as he laughing pointed to the sideline where a group of Vladimirs students were cheering and shouting at the teams and he told me that the two girls standing in the middle were the referees. The look of concern on my face must have intensified a little as he answered my next question before I finished asking it and laughingly told me that the girls had never played football before and never refereed either.

As it turned out this really didn’t matter as I realised after the first ten minutes of play that the only rule that everyone seemed to have agreed on is that you musn’t touch the ball with your hands. The football match that ensued was without doubt the funniest I have ever witnessed and it was fortunate that my team had decided that I should be goalie (so I wouldn’t have to worry about identifying my team) because I spent most of the match holding onto one of the goalposts to prevent myself from folding up on the ground in helpless laughter.

The teams were all a real mix of people ranging in age from 14 to 40 and ranging in ability from complete beginner to pretty experienced. Nor were the players just limited to men, each team had four or five girls on it and despite my initial doubts the girls on my team turned out to be highly effective defenders and considerably better at football than me and the other volunteers.

The students all knew each other so well that they could easily tell who was on which team but anyway this didn’t seem to be an important element as nobody managed to keep posession of the ball long enough to pass it and the main tactic of the game seemed to be to take a great swing at the ball and boot it as far up the other end of the pitch as possible and hope that in the melee that usually resulted around the ball, someone would be able to bump into the other goal.

There was no bad tackles or deliberate fouls like in professional football but still players frequently went sprawling in the dust (the pitch was just earth and dust) but this didn’t faze anyone and they always got up laughing and played on.

The goal-scoring part of the procedure seemed to be somewhat blurred and badly defined as one of the goals had no top-bar and as everyone blatantly ignored the pitch-lines it turned out that people were often playing while the ball was still actually behind the goal and so I was a little unsure of which direction to try and protect my goal from.

My team were a very effective selection of players (quite extraordinary considering the confused fashion in which the teams were picked) and they consisted of two parts; the five guys were up front attacking the other team’s goal whilst the five girls were spread out in a line across our side of the pitch defending against any poor unfortunate who was foolish enough to venture down near our goal. The girls were so effective at keeping the other team at bay that I rarely had to defend the goal. As it turned out I had also somehow been lucky enough to land up with 3 of the top 4 best players present that day and they played some amazing football to secure our team a win in every match we played during the day.

After Rowdy’s team we played a tense and lively match against Vladimir’s team who had one of the best players I have seen. I didn’t recognise the guy but he played very professionally and was able to effortlessly wend the ball around all of the attackers on my team. Strangely though he didn’t seem to know how to deal with the girls on my team as they didn’t use any kind of tactics but just all closed in on the guy at once and effectively deprived him of the ball almost every time. As a result we won the match by one goal although the other team hotly contested that it was a goal as the shot was quite high and they happened to be using the goal with no top-bar at the time so no-one could say if the ball had gone in the goal or not.

By now the sun was high in the sky and although it was only 2nd of May the temperature was such that all the men were stripped down to their waists and glistening sweat (on the parts of the body which weren’t covered in dust and mud). Despite the heat and the many red-sweaty faces around, Vladimir was still playing like a demon after the first thirty minutes (each game was 40 mins) and he was running all over the place like a kind of whirling dervish, tackling everyone including his own team and often getting right down near our goal before my defender girls would violently divest him of the ball (frequently sending him sprawling in the dust which was somewhat surprising considering that he is their boss of the English course).

The last match we played was against Doug’s team and by now the five guys on our team were really showing their mettle and scoring goals. As I was easily able to recognise my own team now I resigned from my position as goal-keeper and ventured out into the field to mix it up and join in the wild melee’s amidst the yelling, shouting and laughing. Everyone’s stomachs were already hurting quite considerably from laughing so hard but still I was able to get in some good attacks at the goal without taking too many falls.

After the last match all the teams went and collapsed gratefully on a large bank under the shelter of some trees to swap battle tales and funny stories about the matches and enjoy the bottles of fizzy water and ice-creams that Vladimir had provided. Everyone managed to burn off a good deal of energy and use a lot of water after four hours of football (Vladimir brought 40 litres of mineral water to the matches but they were all empty by the end of the last match).

Next we all gathered for a final huge group photo of Vladimir, the volunteers and all the English students together, for it would be the last time that most people saw each other and everyone seemed to have brought a camera to ensure they had some good photos to remember everyone by. One unfortunate was picked from the ranks and voted as official photographer for the big group photo. This would have been fine but everyone wanted a picture taken with their own camera and so they all draped their cameras over the poor guy and instructed him how they wanted the picture taken with their cameras. The guy must have had nine or so cameras hanging off every available part of his body and we all had to stand and pose for over five minutes while he took a photo with one camera after another.

After this everyone began to disperse in various directions as they headed off to their homes for a much needed shower and some food and rest. Although not before twenty or so of us had arranged to meet later that evening at a pool club called ‘Fortuna’.

Thus at about six that same evening I arrived at club ‘Fortuna’ which is like a pool club, bar and café rolled into one and has nine pool tables and various tables and chairs where people can sit and drink, eat and watch the people playing pool.

By 7 o’clock all twenty people from Vladimir’s groups had arrived at the place and we accounted for over 50% of all the people present there. It was a very merry gathering indeed and everyone was in high-spirits, talking and socialising, drinking and playing pool in groups of four. As in the football, most of our group had played pool very rarely and it was a fairly comic two hours or so as people tried to get to grips with hitting the balls correctly and creasing up laughing when not successful. I had quite an advantage over most people as I had played pool many times before but still some of the students managed some extraordinary shots which bounced off several cushions before going in the hole (more by sheer luck than good judgement!).

When we had played enough pool we sat in big groups and talked and when we had talked enough and drank enough we all said our farewells and wandered off to our homes in various directions around the city. I think that whilst extremely tired, I was very happy and slept very well that night. Though I didn’t half feel stiff this morning. When I first stumbled out of bed at about eleven in the morning I felt like I’d been run over by a bus.

09/05/02

Well today was a big celebration in Russia called ‘Victory day’ which is when everybody greets their grandparents and celebrated the day 57 years ago when the Nazi’s were defeated and the allies were finally victorious and the second world war was over.

So at 2 o’ clock all the volunteers and Tatiana (the head English teacher) gathered in her classroom at school for a little party involving chocolates, biscuits, tea and copious quantities of the national beverage ‘Vodka’.

After half an hour of chatting and drinking we all decided to walk over to the central park before some of our party became so hammered that they were incapable of walking. Those present included Tatiana, myself, and the four Americans; Alison, Michelle, Doug and Steve.

We walked for sometime before we came across a flower shop where we all bought some flowers and then continued on for a kilometre or so until we came to the park where the big victory monument stood that houses the eternal flame. The eternal flame is a foot high flame which is kept burning all year long for every year to commemorate the thirty million russians who died fighting against the Nazis. Behind the eternal flame is a large twenty foot high sculpture which vaguely resembles a harp and in front of this was laid out row upon row of flowers that people came and added to as they arrived.

The small plateau which the whole thing rested on was flanked on all sides by smart looking soldiers with smart black berets and badges who were standing so still they looked almost unreal, although they were carrying very real kalashnikov rifles and they looked a little scary. Of course as I happened to be carrying all the flowers at that moment, everybody elected me to go up and lay the flowers near the statue. I have to say that I felt very exposed and vulnerable as I walked across the plateau (which was almost empty as the crowds of people were keeping a very respectful distance from the soldiers) and up to the flame where I hastily scattered the flowers nearby and started walking back to the welcoming cover of the crowd. But my friends had other ideas and they waved me back and quietly (so as not to break the silence) they hissed something about photo opportunities and so I reluctantly shambled back to the flame and awkwardly attempted to pose, shrink down behind the statue and avoid looking at the crowds of people, while they took pictures.

Next we all strolled off further into the park which was very beautiful, smart and well designed with lots of interesting trees, grass, beds of blooming flowers and paths radiating out in a star shape. It being a beautiful day with sun and clear blue skies, there were quite a few people walking slowly around or sitting meditavely on benches, however we found a free bench after a while and gratefully sat down in the sun to chat, eat some biscuits and polish off some more vodka (disgusting stuff, glad that I don’t have to drink it anymore!).

11/05/02

Today Sveta’s Mum and Dad invited me to go with them to ‘Nagarod’ which I discovered means something like ‘countryhouse’ which almost every Russian seems to have hidden away somewhere in little villages of wooden cabins out in the countryside. Because over 95% of Russians all live in massive blocks of concrete flats in the city is not surprising that they are very glad when they can get away to their wooden country houses in the countryside where it is nice and peaceful.

Each house is handbuilt by the family and their friends who help and each house is made almost entirely from wood and looks very picturesque – somewhat like an old-style Swiss chalet in the mountains. Each house is also surrounded by a moderate plot of land where each family grows fruit and vegetables to make all the conserves and stores for the winter.

My host family have been so incredibly kind, caring and generous to me after the last five months that it was a pleasure for me to be able to visit their garden and work for a day digging and weeding and planting. At the end of the day I was fairly sweaty and tired and liberally covered in dust and mud so the family introduced me another Russian tradition called ÓBahnyaÔ (something which most Russian families have next to their countryhouse). I was quite glad to get inside the house at the end of the day because the weather was beginning to act quite strange with large grey storm clouds and frequent showers of hailstones (it seemed rather a coincidence that I should see no rain or hail for so long and then suddenly as soon as I got outdoors in the gardenÅlo and behold the heavens open).

Bahnya is a little similar to a sauna but is much more steeped in tradition and is composed of a small cabin built of big logs of special wood which is carefully wadded all around so there are no cracks where heat can escape. Each has a small chimney sticking out the roof and when in use one can smell the familiar smell of wood smoke spewing out the chimney.

After entering through the door we arrived in a little ante-room with a wooden bench/bed covered in towels and also a little table with some cups and some mugs of beer (for after the Bahnya). The walls were cladded with straw and both walls and floor were bare wood that looked like it had been chopped straight from the forest nearby. The walls to my left were hot to the touch and I wondered just what to expect as I had never been in a Bahnya (or Sauna) before.

After stripping off to our swimming trunks, Sveta’s father opened the inner door and ushered me into the main room of the Bahnya. The heatwave which hit me forcefully in the face was incredible and like nothing I had ever felt before. It felt somewhat how I imagine it would be to step inside the crater of an active volcano.

I held the door open as long as possible while I hastily tried to force some oxygen that had not been heated to 50C into my lungsÅ then he told me to close the door or I’d let all the heat out! (which is actually what I was trying to do). As I stood there breathing hard, I took a moment to survey my surroundings and saw that we were in a square room with bare logs making up the walls and a bare wooden ceiling and floor. The floor had many slats to channel water away under the cabin and against the wall on the far side were two wooden benches/beds for us to sit on. To my left were standing three large milk-churns containing cold water and to my right was an enormous ancient metal / stone stove with three compartments – one for the wood fuel, one for the hot stones which were radiating the heat and one water-heater compartment.

Those first few minutes that I sat on the wooden bench were quite extraordinary and my nerves didn’t really know what to make of the incredibly strong feelings that my whole body was feeling. My feet and cheeks were uncomfortably hot and beginning to turn an interesting shade of red however the feelings in the rest of my body were very pleasant and amazingly relaxing.

After about three minutes of sitting in such heat (nodding reasurringly at Sveta’s dad everytime he inquired if I was ok), I felt that it was time to go outside for a bit before I fainted, so I told him what I wanted and then made a wild dash for the door, yanked it open and after yelping in pain because the metal handle was so hot, I stood outside for a minute or two breathing in great gulps of bracing cold air.

As it began to get a bit cold outside I decided to go back in the Bahnya for another bout and so I gingerly opened the inner door and slowly backed into the room so that my back and not my face bore the full brunt o the wave of searing heat.

After a minute or so Sveta’s Dad said it was getting rather cold in there (I disagreed) and so he took a cup of beer, opened the stove and flung the contents of the cup onto the hot stones inside the stove while I looked on in amazement. At first there was just a loud hissing as the beer evaporated into steam but then a fresh wave of heat spread through the room and this time the air had a strong yeasty smell like that of dough, plus the temperature rose by another 3 degrees or so and I was really beginning to drip in sweat from the heat.

This time I lasted about 4 minutes before making a break for the door to cool down again. Although by now I was beginning to enjoy the rapid changes between the extreme hot inside and the fresh windy cold of the outside. Thus the next time I dived back into the Bahnya, Sveta’s father produced the next element of the tradition which is a switch of birch branches (complete with leaves) tied together and soaked in hot water.

I simply held the switch of birch in my hand and watched in some amusement as he used his switch to whip himself all over. So anyway I overcame my trepidation and started hitting myself all over with the dripping bundle of birch branches. It was quite hilarious and felt very strange indeed as water and loose leaves sprayed everywhere. In fact one of my swishes went a bit wild and went right around my back and came round and hit me in the face almost causing me to fall off the bench (Sveta’s Dad was highly amused when he saw it).

By now I was rather hot and covered in sweat, water and loose leaves so I went outside where there was a garden hose with (very!) cold water and so I dived under the hose and yelped and did some rather mental dancing for a few seconds before running madly back into the Bahnya to warm up again.

After one more bout of Bahnya we decided to finish and proceeded to take turns picking up the milk-churns of water and tipping the entire contents over each other which effectively washed off all the sweat and after I had towelled off and got dressed I can safely say that I felt cleaner than I have ever felt in my whole life. Definitely a very interesting experience and a damned effective way of getting very clean.

17/05/02

It being a Friday, which is my free day, I had arranged with Dasha and my new friends Sergei and Luber to visit them at their house and also attend a concert. Sergei is the lead singer and guitarist in a local band called ‘Anree’ whose music I particularly like. He is a professional musician and his band have toured to other cities including St Petersburg. His music is really excellent and today I was invited to a small concert that his band were giving for all their friends in the underground scene.

When I arrived with Dasha at the venue that had been chosen I was somewhat taken aback and thought perhaps there had been a mistake with the location. We were in a small district of Izhevsk where the houses were all old traditional wooden cabins with small gardens and ramshackle fences, sheds and many fruit trees which were just beginning to blossom.

The people were very friendly sincere country folk and many teenagers from the underground scene who were all wearing fairly alternative and almost hippy-like clothing which was an interesting change from the ultra-smart appearance of most Russians that I meet in shops or at Vladimir’s classes.

The garden we found ourselves in was about 30 feet square with a few big apple trees and surrounded by a falling down wooden fence and some wooden workshops / stables. There was no chairs or stage but the ground was quite littered with blocks of wood and some old oil-drums so we all set to arranging make-shift seats in a semi-circle around a pile of papers, sticks and other rubbish which was to become our bonfire.

Already there were about fifteen people there and more colourful and interesting people arriving every few minutes. I immediately liked all these people as they were merry, relaxed and open with an honest and cheerful way of greeting each other and me (they all seemed to know each other and most looked like they were musicians, artists, poets and students).

One of the band proceeded to pile up the bonfire and get it into a good blaze while the other band members tuned their instruments amidst the general hubbub of everyone saying their greetings and talking and laughing. Once our company was about twenty strong we all took our seats (on oil-drums, logs, planks and an old tree trunk). When everyone was already piled close together onto the available seating, the few extra people left over sat in the large branches of the tree overhead and so our merry gig commenced.

The band Anree consists of Sergei, the guitarist and singer, and also Anton who plays the flute (amazing musician) and Yulia who plays the recorders and sings. As we all sat there around the bonfire quietly listening to the musicians playing and admiring the awesome sunset I couldn’t help feeling like I was at home in a big hippy gathering such as Rainbow Circle, Findhorn or Glastonbury festival (back in the days when these events were smaller gatherings).

Sergei, Anton and Yulia played really well together and the music from Guitar, flute, recorder and voice melted together superbly so that as the sun sank on the gardens and cabins and the glow and flicker of the fire played on our faces making everything a bit trance-like.

The members of Anree don’t seem to need music-score or even rehearsals to play together as they seem to just improvise a lot of the time and the music effortlessly weaves together to form a good melodie. The lyrics too seem to be quite spontaneous and I reckon it’s always great when lyrics are about things in life which are really fervent and heartfelt for the musician. (It’s true that my Russian language is still quite limited but I understood enough to feel the meaning and mood of the singer).

After almost an hour the band stopped for a bit and everyone gathered in groups around the fire and chatted and passed around mugs of beer and smoked or dried fish. I talked with a few of the people there who were delighted that I made such enthusiastic attempts to converse in Russian (they understood everything I said but the problem always occurs when I have to try and understand them when they talk). One of the people there was a journalist and she spoke fairly good English and helped introduce me to the other people.

As the fire slowly died down and dusk fell the musicians played another hour of really cool and original music for us which, with the people and the atmosphere, made the evening seem quite surreal and hard to believe that I was so far from my family and friends in England, sitting in a garden in the middle of Russia listening to Russian songs with so many new and really interesting people.