Blogs from Perm, Volga, Russia, Europe

Nick Hogan once asked me, "How's Perm? Brutal enough for you?" I replied that overall life was good, and Perm not at all brutal. This was well before the two -40 days of mid-December and the week in which the temperature bounced between -20 and -30. Up till then, when asked by grinning Russians "so, how do you like Russian winter?" I understood what they wanted me to say. I would reply, however, that, in truth, Russian winter is not so different from Nebraska winter. No colder, just a little bit longer. My Russian questioners would stop grinning. Sveta even claimed my dismissal of Russian winter offended her. "I always knew it was colder," she told me recently. People here are proud of their ability to endure all calamities. Not long ago, Medvedev in a speech ... read more

Before I begin all this, let me say that, all things considered, I like the busses here. They arrive a short walk from my door at five minute intervals, cost next to nothing, and take me anywhere I want. They run late into the night -- by comparison Lincoln busses were off the streets by 6:30. And Perm busses have magic tickets. There are six digits on every ticket, and if the sum of first three digits on the ticket match the sum of the next three, it is a magic ticket and you will have a magical day. To make the magic effective, however, you should eat the magic ticket. If the sums have a difference of one, you will have a meeting (no ticket-eating necessary), and if the difference is two, you should get ... read more

Fall has begun and everything is more or less in order. Sveta got her new passport -- she's now Svetlana Rasmussen. And I visited the Russian proctologist at long last. I was supposed to go in June, but I had more pressing things to attend to, like sleeping and running the cat around the sofa. The clinic was typical with peeling paint and tired-looking people crammed in the hallways. There’s never a reception desk. You wander until you find your department and then ask those crammed about, “who’s next.” It works, but I’ve found that the best way to get to the doc is to play the part of the dumb foreigner. There are always an old woman there who take pity on such unfortunates and will take them under her wing. This time, however, ... read more

Sveta and I spent my second fourth of July in Perm much like we spent the first: wandering around town. We found a side road that led to an unknown green valley. It was the usual Perm summer scene: industry and village. Ponies, razor wire, and pipes intermixed amid all that green. The overgrowth was the first thing that really struck on the ride home from the airport last year. Perm was covered in weeds, grasses and trees. The city was often hidden, and wooden houses and footpaths nestled in the valleys between apartment blocks. We eventually wandered down to the great new Perm Museum of Contemporary Art. Here's a link to the UK's Daily Telegraph article. The Boris Mikhailov photo series "Salt Lake" really struck me. ... read more

As I prepare for my annual AP “reading” trip, I’ve been reflect on that question that students in every class I’ve taught have asked me: “what do Americans think of Russians?” It’s kind of a dumb question, and I never know quite how to answer it even though it ALWAYS gets asked. But I certainly had some preconceptions before I came here. Some of them were right on, like, Russians require stamps, forms, and documents. But other’s were way off, and are probably shared by too many people. So this is, I guess, some of the surprises, the things I’ve seen and experienced that went against the stereotype or were just plain unexpected. 1) Russians are not xenophobic. I guess I never really believed they were, but this gets a lot play in places it shouldn’t ... read more

A couple weeks ago I revisited Kudimkar, the delightful and snowy capital of the formerly autonomous Perm-Komi region. Some of the Perm-Komi people still speak Komi, but I’d bet English is probably more widespread these days. Svetlana of Kudimkar (to differentiate her from Sveta my wife) invited me to address of conference of English teachers. The two-day trip required the usual 10,000 forms, and as they were all in Russian, completing them fell on Sveta (the wife). I prepared a couple of my lessons. Perhaps the most appealing part of this little escape was that it came in the middle of a busy week - meaning if the forms were complete and signed, I had an ironclad excuse to miss nearly all of my Wednesday and Thursday classes. I boarded the bus at 6:50 and arrived ... read more

It was the night of Russian Christmas, January 7, and the bathhouse anteroom was freezing. As I disrobed I noticed that the black furry thing hanging on the wall was not a fur hat at all, but a severed cow head - perfectly preserved. I was too cold to feel surprised. I turned away, threw open the door and entered the bathhouse proper. Sveta and I celebrated Christmas in the village of Stashkova at her Aunt Vala’s farmhouse. Joining us were Aunt Vera and two of Vala’s five children plus their assorted friends, family, and hangers-on. The number of guests relative to the number of rooms made for interesting sleeping arrangements that night. Vala kept a good table, and I ate well into the early morning, before heading out to the bathhouse. Vodka, champagne, and Carlsburg ... read more