Last Exit

So, I thought I would start my newfound desire to update this page with this great picture. I found this whilst searching for a picture of The xx, the now phenomenally popular South London indie trio who are taking the world by storm. Well done them. However, this was, in fact, the first picture to crop up on my Google Images search. I enjoyed this opportunity for alterior meaning so much I decided to use it as a sort of umbrella symbol for the new direction that I'm attempting to take with this.

I also looked up this band on myspace (http://www.myspace.com/xxteens), who play a sort of rowdy surf-rock. I'm not even sure if that accurately describes their sound, as it is rather a mixed bag. Indeed, they seem to play it very well. I would probably dance it to in a club if it came on, actually. Although, it needs to be said that I don't actually go to clubs anymore so the chance of that happening is rather slim.

Anyway, on to the good stuff. I'm going to start using this as a film blog. Specifically, a Russian film blog. But I'm sure other stuff will crop up. I will, of course, be talking about the popular characters of post-Soviet Russian cinema. But I will try to mention those who will have, perhaps, slipped your eyes.

In this vein, I'd like to start off with a film I watched recently: Boris Khlebnikov's Roads to Koktebel' (2003). It is a road movie, and rather a Russian one. But, as the Kinokultura review points out, it does not follow the usual formula of a typical Russian road movie. Instead of moving to Moscow, the father and son characters in this film are running away from it. To Crimea, in fact.

The Crimea is, in the Russian popular imagination, still a destination associated with pleasure and relaxation due to its cultural associations stretching back to the 19th Century, when spa-resorts dotted the beautiful Black Sea Coast. This was built upon by the Soviet Union, when it became the 'worker's paradise', one of the most sought-after holiday destinations for Soviet citizens. Not alot has changed in the post-Soviet period. It is still an incredibly popular holiday destination for those wanting sun, sea and sand in a place that is still considered, at heart, Russian. Although once forming the base for the Tatar Khanate of the Medieval period, it was the subject of russification in the immediate post-war period with the deportation of the Crimean Tatars.

The population of Crimea numbers around 2 million, and Russians are very much dominant ethnographically. Indeed, the formation of a distinct post-war Crimean identity is rather an interesting subject in itself. But, it is in fact not the destination that matters so much as the journey there, and the experiences undertaken during that.

The father is played brilliantly by Igor Chernevic, who appears in Help Gone Mad (2009) also by Khlebnikov. The father-son relationship is troubled, however, by the various encounters with seemingly senile recluses and helpful women. I would not want to spoil this film, so I will leave it there. It is definitely worth watching not only for its representation of the post-Soviet Russian environment, but for both the subtle and absurd humour that seems to pervade the film throughout.

I'm going to start updating this again.

Finland.

Joensuu

Sortavala

Word to your respective mothers.

So I went to Finland with my mate Jesper and his friend Fyodor on Wednesday. Jesper needed to go because of vehicle registration issues, Fyodor because he's interested in beavers and their habitats, and I went because I felt like it. That is, I'd never been to Finland and I thought it might be cool.

I was wrong.

It might have something to do with the fact we went to several small towns (Ilomantsi, Joensuu) where we didn't know anybody but really the two things I can say about Finland currently is that it's a) boring b) expensive. That said,I have been invited to go sailing in the Gulf of Finland this summer which I am sorely tempted to do. In fact the most interesting part of the trip was on the Russian side, on the way there they thought my visa was hilarious. And on the way back my passport wouldn't scan in the machine, and then they thought that Jesper was doing something dodgy with these four tyres he had in the back of his car. Rather funny in retrospect really.

No, the best times are to be had on the Russian side of the border, where we went to a little town called Sortavala and stayed in a very cheap hotel and got really really drunk in a bar that only sold cans of beer and crisps.

In other news, on Wednesday we probably set off on our road trip around the Onego. Which will no doubt be very interesting, and will hopefully involve some hot water along the way because they've turned ours fucking off for 3 weeks. Ta.

I went to murmansk and I all got was the impression that it's a big port town.

So I went to Murmansk. And it was good, it was fun. And I didn't even drink that much (I'm severely worried about my levels currently).

On the way there I got adopted by some ladies who gave me tea and wafers because I was a poor foreigner who cannot survive without those in the know (fairly true). We had some very nice chats, and it was really cool seeing that I was otherwise pretty much on my todd for the 20 hr journey there.

Getting into Murmansk was fairly interesting, there were some lakes that were still frozen up there, and the sun doesn't set at all, it just gets a bit darker in the evening (try driving around in a taxi at 4 in the morning with the sun shining over the tower blocks - class).

Murmansk is a huge port town set in the hills of the Kola Peninsula, and is fucking wicked. Theres a huge 80m high WW2 soldier who sits on the hill that looks over Murmansk, and theres loads of cranes below which you can hear when you're up there. It's incredibly soviet, I mean, Petrozavodsk is kinda soviet, but Murmansk is a monument to Soviet architecture and town planning. Essentially everybody lives in these tower blocks that are up on these hills around the city, it's fairly depressed (although was alot worse in the 90s, like everything else, apparently the population decreased by a third due to moving away, drugs etc). But under the White Nights its not so bad, everything's sunny and people are cheerful after the days where you only get 3 hrs of sunlight.

We took a trolleybus out to this new bridge that they've built across the bay, and then walked underneath it with a few beers, chilling out under the sun. After that went to the first Soviet kitsch bar I've ever been to. Not actually that bad, it was full of Russians actually and was painted red in the middle of this estate we were in.

Also turns out that Murmansk and the UK have a kind of friendship thing seeing as we sent them alot of stuff via Iceland during WW2 (lend-lease), they kind of like us up there. In fact, generally the people were really really friendly, always ready to help when we got lost and shit. Marina Petrovna told me that they're famous for it, and told me a story that once they'd been driving from Moscow to PTZ when their car broke down, a wheel went or something and even an acquaintance wouldn't help them but then this guy from Murmansk stops for them and gives them a lift home. The guy wouldn't take money, or even the offer of a place to stay the night. Klass voobshche.

What wasn't so cool was the fact that the morning after I came back I had to give a presentation on British culture, which I had written some good shit for but hadn't learnt obviously since I'd been in Murmansk. Didn't really work out but ate alot of cake and we sang songs and stuff after as it was like the big day for the language school where I have private lessons.

It's currently 26 days and counting until I'm home, and I'm starting to look forward to it. Although what I 'm looking forward to more is the fact that tomorrow I will again be giving an interview on the life of a foreigner in PTZ. No really, I'm used to the publicity now... :)

When I came back of course I was instantly given wine for two reasons 1) I came back 2) Sergei is getting married. Big news. Russians are literally mad when it comes to either weddings or children, and apparently there will be both a wedding and a kid so the family have gone fucking bonkers already.

Well, that's all for the moment just wanted to do a quick message while I could.

Bye.

Murmansk..here we come?

Still fresh from the sense of pride that I received on the 9th of May (Victory Day) last Saturday, the last week has been pretty good really. We went to the parade, we had a picnic, we went on a suspiciously rusty Big Wheel in the fairground by the lakeside. It's all good really.

These feelings of optimisim, vitality etc abstract nouns aplenty have inspired me to do some travelling. I'm now currently taking the 20 hour train to Murmansk next week to see whatever is there (apparently not alot) and then also planning to take a road trip round Lake Onego at the start of June. Great stuff.

On the downside, my two other English mates left town last night never to return. So now, with 5 weeks to go, I'm somewhat alone. Apart from that, I spent the weekend without the family as they went to the Cherepovets for 5 days. Why? I really don't know. Cheropovets is the capital of Vologdaskaia Oblast', and is a smokey hole according to Big Sasha. However, they did come back looking refreshed, tanned and with lots of pickled goods. So I'm not complaining. Especially as I got to eat alot of vareniki. Woop woop.

We're also probably going to the Dacha this Friday night for some hard drinking and banya time, which will be ace.

Ice-Fishing.

April.

1) Last week I went to a series of lectures about Iceland. God I know so much about Iceland. It's literally bursting out of me. I go around boring people with facts, figures, trivia and the like. Literally I am an Icelandic machine.

For example did you know that due to the highly unstable geographical situation of Iceland, the roads that cross through the centre of it are only open during the summer?

Or, did you know that Iceland has been under the rule of Norway, Sweden and Denmark during the past 1000 years?

And better yet, that its isolation from the rest of Scandinavia has resulted in a strange language that is fairly unchanged from the Old Norse that they spoke there when they first arrived in 870 AD? (Although that original figure is now about to be revised to around 700-750AD, everyone agrees it'll just take a few more years for everyone to recognise it.)

2) My hair is really long. I went to a barber's the other day but I got scared and chickened out. So now my friend Michaela has said she'll do it. She claims that she can cut hair, I don't believe her. Especially the other night when she said 'No, I've never actually cut anybody's hair before.'

3) On Friday night I got so drunk I couldn't put my shoes on. Literally, they had to be put on for me. Also drank alot in the courtyard which is overlooked by the State Prison. Mistake.

4) We were on telly the other day. This is the latest in the series of recent press events which we've been having. My mate Tom lives with a television lady (she works on the telly) and she did a program about him (day in the life sort of). I was also there. But my clip consisted of me laughing outrageously as it was explained to me what was going on. Doesn't quite rival my appearance in the local newspaper (which everybody knows about now).

5) Overslept this morning, missed Old Church Slavonic at 8am. Oh dear.

6) Hopefully going to the Sauna this Friday. Am going to try and be sensible but I just can't help myself when I get dehydrated and drunk and go swimming.

7) Last week went for a few beers with a guy called 'Dzhek'/'Jack', we went and had a drink at his work which is essentially a Youth Centre with lots of computers. Quite cool. Picked up some new words (I won't type them they're too rude.)

8) Have just read Herzog by Saul Bellow. It was amazing. Sort of annoying in parts when the narrator's letters go into scholarly discussions of Nietzche and Romanticism and Kierkegaard and all that stuff I am not into at all. But at the same time that had the effect of bringing the protagonist's know-it-allness right into my mind. God Saul Bellow is amazing.

I got defeated by Bleak House. Very early on. To be fair, it's my own fault. I read Oliver Twist, Hard Times and Great Expectations. I overdid the Victorian prose and I ended up crashing and burning. Which is a shame because I need to read Bleak House for next year I think. Although it does look good. Maybe I'll just get the BBC adaptation instead.

Currently reading 'Life of Insects'/'Babylon' in Russian (I think it's called that in English) by Victor Pelevin. It's really good, and alot more satisfying/useful/easy than reading Gogol' in the original Russian (literally spirit-crushingly hard). I've been reading it for about 3 weeks, maybe a month and I've done 50 pages so far. I'm fairly proud of myself in that sense but also not so because I should really be able to read a book by now without taking 3 weeks to read 50 pages.

9) Two big holidays coming up this week or so - 1st of May (standard) and Victory Day (9th May). Victory Day is celebrated a day later in Russia than in Europe because of the time difference when they were signing the treaties. It's one of the most important holidays in Russia apparently.

10) Another postcard has been sent out. Who it's to? Not saying.

11) Back in 8 and a bit weeks.

I had a date with the nig..ICE FISHING??1/11

As the title no doubt reveals, I have been ice-fishing. Recently. In fact, perhaps only several days ago as a matter of fact. The guy Nat lives with took us all out on to the lake (which is now melting very rapidly) about 100-200 metres and we made a hole with a special ice-drill, and then fished for a bit. We didn't catch anything but it was still really cool to be standing out on the lake, with all the other ice-fisherpeople in the distance like little black dots, felt very Russian and very cliched but I don't care.

We then celebrated Easter by having yorkshire puddings served with ice cream (don't ask), which was very pleasant and it was all very civilised etc.

The Friday/Saturday of last week was also a bit of an event as our Italian friend, Michaela, moved into her new flat. It's really, really posh and isn't too far from the lake and I'm incredibly jealous. So there was 2-day party type thing and met some new people and it was pretty cool.

However, the main event of the week was Denis' birthday, he's the 22-year old student/part-time university security guard who studies in the Forestry department. And yes, if you hadn't already guessed the Forestry Dept. is essentially the Sport Science of degrees, except infintely cooler because the name for it in Russian is literally 'wood-engineering'. And in fact, we have been to known to call them wood-engineers because it's just that funny.

So I came back from football on Wednesday night, and was promptly invited to join the usual drinking and eating festival that constitutes any family or national event here at 104 Chapaeva St. I was very much intending to 'take it easy' but that notion was quickly dispelled as soon as it became clear that I was going to be drinking alot of vodka instead of having a 'few beers' as I had planned. So like always we all got ridiculously pissed and I went to bed about 3. They continued to drink until around 6 in the morning and when I got out Denis and his mate (who's actually from Vladivostok) were passed out on the sofa, hugging the family dog Hilla (named after Hilary Clinton, actually).

I got up, ate some spicy carrots and drank some cranberry juice. I was then sick ALOT. This was reported to Denis and Vlad, who congratulated me by giving me a glass of beer. Denis then decided it would be hilarious to pretend to finger the cat, which he did. We then finished the beer and went to the shop to get more beer, which we drank. By which time it was half 3 and I had to go out. Thank god.

we stand under it, but we don't understand it (night)

(petrozavodsk - 1950s, you can see the Finnish Embassy there)

Greetings.

Nothing much has been happening really since the last post but I'll try to conjure something out of nothing in the vain hope of entertaining you.

It was Sergei's birthday last Wednesday, he's the 22 year-old ex-Spetsnaz sniper who occupies the room next to mine. Needless to say when I came home on Wednesday night after football (more on that later) I was greeted by a strange reception by him and his mates, until I was told to 'proxodi na ctol / come to the table' at which point the vodka began to flow and the eating and drinking marathon started.

there were toasts, there were jokes and there was drink. I can honestly say that I did pretty well for 4 hours of solid drinking, but the surprising thing was that at 1 o'clock (one hour after I'd started my own drinking ramp up with this guy next to me) they all went out clubbing. yes that right, they went out. they were seriously, seriously fucked. I went to bed. I didn't go to uni. and I think I'm still feeling a little peaky after it 4-5 days later.

After football, and the communal shower with several middle-age men, I was asked by one man, Sergei, who has few teeth and a rocket of a right foot, if I believed in God (he actually asked me in English). To this I replied, actually, no, not as such, not really (trying best to be polite as possible since I had a faint suspicion that he did believe in God, like most Russians.)

This faint suspicion was immediately confirmed by an answer of 'yes' when I asked him the same question, when he said 'I am a pastor in the country'. Now I don't know why, but this immediately made me feel incredibly guilty, because he's such a nice bloke and for some reason I equated my saying no to his question of whether I believed in God to reflect badly on him, and his entire congregation. When, in actual fact, it has no bearing whatsoever.

I'd also like to point out that generally I don't understand a word the people say during football on Wednesdays, since it is a highly refined mix of slang and swear-words. It is one of my goals that by the end of my time here, I will at least understand 50% of what they say.

Also, as you probably won't know, its actually the 200th anniversary of Gogol's birth, and as he's a revered national literary figure of both Russia and Ukraine, there are festivities to be had. One such festivity includes the production of a feature film based on the story of Taras Bul'ba by Gogol by the state television network 'Rossiya'. Advertisements are subtle. In fact, they're actually subliminal. They flash the words 'TARAS BUL'BA' in between certain adverts.
Adverts for other televison shows are also fairly amusing, since on Channel 2 (Rossiya) they tend to at the end of the advert say ''Love as a motive', 10.20 on Channel 2, Russia!' Saying 'Russia' as both a statement of the channel and tv network but also saying it like, oh yeah, its in Russia (and therefore intrisincally better than stating any other possible country).

On another advert for 'Kamenskaya - The Real Colonel' (female detective gets involve in vaguely international scandals and/or murder mysteries, they've taken video clips of the actress saying stuff like '9o'clock on Channel 2, all Russia will be watching!' so that if you don't watch you are instantly set apart from the rest of Russia, marking you out as some kind of horrible individualist.

Mother of the World

I'm itemising this post as a) I feel guilty for not updating for a while b) its quicker and I;m pressed for time.

1) I have started playing Russian Billiards as part of my weekly activities. It is amazing. It is solid. I'm probably the worst player in the hall but I dont care because I can't get enough of it.

2) In fact, we were supposed to go ice-fishing yesterday (alot more boring than it sounds, depends on the amount of vodka you drink) but the weather was too bad so we went to Billiards instead. and then ice cream at my mates house.

3) On Friday night I went to the sauna with a load of Finns. It was good. I mean, I drank too much, ate lots of salty snacks and then dehydrated myself and then went swimming so its all good. I can safely say that if you ever think you want to try getting more drunk that seems feasibly possible, this is definitely the method. The sauna had both kareoke and a 'relaxation room' (SEX ROOM). It was also decorated in the manner of a tropical paradise.

4) We also went to a 'blues' gig last week. It was actually pretty good, like, for Russia. 'Blues' in the sense that it was 'blues rock' in the sense that it was generic American hard rock. But still it was pretty good, had a chat to the singer after as he knows a former teacher of mine and he wanted to meet some foreign people. We really are a tasty dish, us foreigners.

5) Watched a film called 'Brat Dva'/Brother 2 last night, which concerns two brothers from a tiny village outside Moscow, who become entwined in dark dealings after their army service. Then their friend, a hockey player, goes to America to make his fortune, but they don't pay the transfer fee or something, so these two brothers go to America to get the money.

I may mention now that these two brothers are in fact hired killers in the mid-90s, and subsequently manage to get into all sorts of stereotypical situations exposing the Russian concept of both the national soul and the evilness of America. The guy that I live with, Sasha, pointed out to me that everyone in America is either about a)money or b) black. And thats not a good thing according to Sasha, who sincerely believes that black people (thats the race known as black people) should live in Africa, whilst Russians live in Russia and English people live in England. They're also all gangsters and crackheads apparently.

However, the best moment of the film was when the younger brother manages to get run over by a rich black woman, who then takes him back to her flat to fix him up. It turns out she's a famous TV presenter, and she's in a hurry, so she leaves him in her flat. Anyway, when she comes home and he's still there, he takes the opportunity to sex her hard.

At which point, Sasha turned to me (bearing in mind that we're currently in the midst of the great Race debate) and says "What do you like more, Tommy, black or white?" And I'm like, "What? Like girls? I don't know really" to which he responds "No, Tom. Semechki."
And he cracks up, and I crack up, and we both laugh for like 5 minutes.

"What are 'semeichki'?" You may ask. Well - semeichki are seeds that you eat, they're really popular in Russia, like crisps or nuts (also popular), and you get black ones and white ones. And we'd been eating quite alot of semeichki all the way through the film, so it was great fun all around.

Sometimes I wish we were an eagle.

The pictures are of the following - outside the back of a 'trolleybus' on a very nice day, behind you can see a 'marshrutnoye taksi/marshrutka', Petrozavodsk on a sunny day (side street where I play football with middle-aged men who may or may not use prostitutes occasionally, and my friend Joe outside Lenta supermarket.

Well, for those of you who were wondering how the HIV test went. It went well. I mean it took 3 there-and-back trips to get it sorted. But it worked out in the end.

Also have been to the bank this morning to pay for my visa. Due to the fact that I am actually Russian, I realised that, differing from England where I might give far too much information in the hope of helping the cashier, I simply need to slip the half-filled form through the thingymajig to the cashier.

And it worked, because it only took 5 quick minutes instead of the 5 dreadful, horrific minutes I was expecting when she asked me why I hadn't put my account details etc. Result. Although I initially did go to the wrong office, but they told me to go next door. Which I did.

On Friday I also went to the photo-shop to get some more photos for my visa-extension, and as it turns out, they are actually complete fuck-ups. Explanation as follows:

1) When I got home on Friday afternoon, I realised they'd only given me 2 photos, instead of the 4 I'd asked for.

2) They did them glossy, when I'd expressly requested MATTE photographs.

It's really not my fault as I thought they'd understood when I said 'Four' and 'Matte' in Russian.
And they said they understood.

They didn't. Why did they say they did, when they didn't. I mean, why lie? Just say you don't understand, it's fine, I'll say it as many times as I have to, to make myself understood.

Well, 'nechevo' as they say here 'doesn't matter/nothing/ok'.

The weekend however was fairly uneventful, apart from the fact that I've started playing football in yet another very Soviet-feeling sports hall with pictures of smiling Railway employees and faded Olympic signs.

I'm currently reading the following; Hard Times (FACTS!), Catch 22 (yet again, its even funnier this time) and Gogol's 'The Nose' in Russian. Which is solid by the way. Absolutely fucking solid.

Also - you can text me/ring me if you wish, however for that you need to either a) email me or b)facebook me for the details. I'll also say that there may be postcards soon, because I've been spurred on by recent adminstrative successes to tackle that fortress, that bastion of cold-shoulderness - THE POST OFFICE!

So if you'd kindly send me an address, then you may well receive a postcard.

xx

whats that?

its only -3. well, thats according to the lying sign in the centre of town, which constantly says thats its warmer than it is. we actually have a game where we guess what 'megafon' (telephone provider) will say.
yeah, we're that cool.

weekend has been fairly intense. there was extreme 'gosti' (going to eachothers houses and drinking and eating all at the same time) from saturday to sunday. on saturday we went to this Italian girls house. she actually lives in the Petrozavodsk ghetto 'Kluchevaia'. where coincidentally one of the lads who I live with got punched in the face last week. people there are less smiley than usual, and thats fair enough, because they've not got anything to fucking smile about as they live in a shithole.

and then on sunday, it was International Woman's Day, a festival only celebrated in the CIS, where men for one day a year pretend to give a shit about their wives, girlfriends, sisters and other female relatives, female co-workers and generally anybody with a vagina. to show this, they may in fact treat them as equals, or maybe just give them flowers, vases, perfume, make-up, jewellry as these are the only items that women will ever, ever want to receive as presents.

to celebrate this momentous day in the Petrozavodsk social calendar, we had a mass family piss-up which started at 3 and ended at around 12. I can proudly say that I lasted only about 4-5 hours before passing out. Why the approximation? (you may ask). Well I know this because at about 7pm I apparently tried to ring Cuba, and then I remember nothing. I'm actually a bit gutted about this because apparently around 8-9pm they started dancing, and I fucking missed it. It was brilliant, my liver doesn' agree, but still.

Unfortunately, its Big Sasha's birthday on Friday.

And then Sergei's.

And then Dennis'.

Literally, I'm quite sure the world is going to end next week when there are three separate birthday parties for members of the house.

I've also been to the HIV clinic. Its quite easy to find actually, its only a random green door down a back street on other side of town. Unfortunately, they couldnt actually test me this morning as they only do that from 3-5, whereas from 9-12 you can pay your fee (R510). I think I'm probably just used to Russia, but literally, the place is a dive.

xxx
love

hey kids i'm back

word yo from petrozavodsk (again).

I've only been here a week, but I've fitted straight back in. well apart from the time that the minivan/marshrutka driver called me a pussy boy because I couldnt open the door (it was a bit broken, in my defence).

its seriously snowing here, and its been like -14 I think. have been on top of a frozen lake, indeed the 2nd largest lake in Europe. so put that it in your pipe of boasts and smoke it.

apart from that, I haven't really much to report. have already been out a few times, have been accosted as well in a supermarket cafe by a man with few teeth. he proceeded to claim that my friend was a) not English (he is) and then that b) he was a gyspy. Not the first time that a drunk Russian has assumed that Nat is of inferior origin (he was offered out once because this guy thought he was Georgian).

We've just had a bank holiday, which made a nice 3 day weekend ('Defence of the Fatherland Day', formerly 'All-Russia Soviet Armed Forces Day'). Other than that, I'm going for yet another HIV test this week, which should prove to be a far less pleasant experience than before in England. This isn't however for my own personal amusement, but for the amusement of The Republic of Karelia, who in their adminstrative wisdom have declared that all foreign students who wish to extend their stay, need to take a HIV test. Nevermind the fact that you need a test to enter the fucking country, you need to prove that you havent managed to catch it in your stay too. Ejits.

Kisses to the few who read this.