Hello again, hello,
Time for another group email, lots and lots I would like to share with you from
these past months. Haven't had the time or inspiration to write recently but
thanks very much for the various emails, and I hope this makes up for it in a
way...................
Well, it is time to write about Siberia I think. And Russia.
Finally I have made it - in all its 'Bazoomi' (madness) Russia is oscillating
around me, here, there, everywhere - it is huge and so vast that trains go on
and on through days and days just to get from one city to the next, and the
rivers are so wide the other side is simply a hazy blue horizon, like the
Pacific. The people are aliens, they live lives so different from what I know
(on the surface not - things seem very normal; jobs, families, apartments, new
coats in time for winter...) but underneath they have minds from another
species, another dimension, where logic is foolish and selfishness is moral.
It's a weird alarming place, illogical and hurried and above all harsh - harsh
climate, bland harsh food, monotonous ways of thinking - I would love
to describe it with positive glowing adjectives but for once there aren't any
appropriate - to me it is summed up with the words hard and bitter
and challenge.
There are many beautiful aspects perhaps, there must be, somewhere.
Anywhere? Maybe it's such unconventional beauty it is taking a long time to
shine through to my unaccustomed eyes. The main thing is, as always in such a
place, the people are admirable, often astounding and very entertaining. Sometimes
they stop me right in my tracks, mouth agape, wondering How? How do you do this
people? The absolute pure instinct of survival, the human blind struggle for
survival, is mirrored here a million times in the faces of people who just keep
on going and going - lose things, gain things, change ideals, find religions,
die, live, find things again. The apitomy of instability. It's true that vodka
does have a lot to do with this wonderful coping ability - that and the various
other means of escapism, detective novels, which are sweeping the country by
storm, polygamous relationships, and so on.
I am encamped in the central city, Novosibirsk, the capital of Siberia. It was
created in soviet times and is about as soviet as Lenin himself. In fact the
main square, the metro, the streets, all salute his excellence with garish
statues, marble mosaics and hydroponicly domed opera theatre's, while the rest
of the streets crumble down around them.
Having been here over 2 months already the ragged edge of foreignness has worn
off me somewhat, and I am now becoming accustomed to this reality, and dare I
say it? Starting to understand a bit, a wee bit, about how these abtuse minds
work. I guess I'll have to share those insights in the next email though - time
is running low and I'd like to share with you something else......
Russian Hospitals.
UREGGGGGGGGGGDNGH NGDNH:gggghhdslkg;airUUUUURRRG.
The story went something like this - Whilst working quite hard (teaching
English) and running about town in a flurry of books and snow, I noticed some
sharp pains piercing different parts of my abdomen. On consulting Interlang, the
language school I work for, they referred me to a homeopathic doctor, who looked
at me with contemptuous eyes and told me I was eating the wrong things. She gave
me some sweet little pills and sent me home. That weekend I lay in bed groaning,
hazy visions before my eyes and thoughts of disablement clouding my mind. A few
days later I was, despite my best wishes, admitted to a Russian hospital, the
most frightening, gut sickening place on earth so far.
Admitted for 2 weeks originally, on a diagnosis of a nasty infection somewhere -
possibly due to the bad sanitary conditions - i.e. long drops in the garden and
hardly any showers ....do I really want to tell you this?... well anyway it
wasn't nearly as bad as they thought and I only had to stay 'inside' for 3 days.
That was enough however.
My days were stricken by horrendous gynaecological examinations with sharp metal
equipment, which I was constantly in fear of as not being sterile, daily
injections in the arse, and doctors which woke me and poked at me, barking
viciously. The stereotype of violently angry Russian woman hating foreigner
really rang true. I wished I had a long stick amongst the fruit juice and
syringes on my bedside table, to beat them off with. When on several occasions
they summoned me to the examination/operation room, each time I nearly fainted,
knowing what was coming. Three women at a time were being operated on there, in
one room, and believe me you could see it all. And where is the anaesthetic eh?
So needless to stay, although the original pain had gone, I left in worse health
than when I went in, and took several days to recover from the stress. I would
say the standard there was almost 3rd world, like NZ hospitals 60 or 70 years
ago, however without proper equipment and very few medicines and no disposable
utensils. So, for example, you must take with you: your own bed linen, your own
mat to lie on on the surgery table, your own food, own toilet paper, all your
own medicine, syringes, plastic gloves if you want the doctor to use a new
pair, your own cotton wool and bandages.......
Upon my release the doctor included in her statement that I was 'a little girl,
very afraid of needles.' I wanted to tell her Not so much, if I know they're
sterile, but thought the risk foolish. But it's true in a way - I've realised
who the real strong people are in the world, and they're a rare and admirable
species.
Life also chucks horrid things at you, every now and then. As my Japanese friend
Taka said, it's just like the weather - often rain, often sun, often misty grey
shite in between.
In Siberia there is snow 3 seasons of the year - this year it started in
October. Apart from a few blizzards it hasn't been too bad, the lowest
temperature in the day -8 C or -10 C. The days are getting pretty short however,
light fading around 4pm and coming back around 9am - not so different to
Scotland, but somehow grislier, greyer. Tomorrow it is forecast to be a whopping
- 20C, and it's hastily snowing to get ready in time. I'm not all that cold
however - quite surprising. The apartments and buildings here are heated with
frenzied strength, stifling boiling places, which you must strip off into
shorts and t-shirts apon entering.
Teaching English, contrary to my preconceptions, is quite an interesting and
challenging job. True, it is a bit like spreading a plague, and I am regularly
disgusted by the way the few other foreigners here use their foreign 'status' as
a means to gain and wield power.
However Interlang where I am working has a creative and quite spontaneous
approach to teaching, and mostly I try to engage my students in discussions and
have wide ranging talks.
In a week or so I will be heading to Germany, as my 'visa extension' (a fake
broken leg and fake medical certificate - yip, I'm just as corrupt as the rest
of them) has run out, and I need to take some 'time out' anyway from the
franticness. In Ger I shall decide whether or not to get a one year visa, and
return to this haunted land, perhaps to Moscow or another city.
Merry trails to you all, 'til we meet again,
Melody