They aren't my favourite ones.

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There is no word in the Russian language for 'privacy'.

It's surprising considering the closed nature of people while they are outside, but the idea of tact doesn't really exist in a personal context. I was having a casual breakfast this morning - breaking off the last square of Babaevskii chocolate and singing along to the latest Russian pop song that is in my head all the time - when a small old woman with teeth missing appeared in my appartment. I suppose she is one of the obshezhitie administrators. She was in the kitchen almost before I heard the knock on the door, and started to yell at me in a way very few people ever have.

The reason? I had left my clothes to dry on the window sill at the end of my corridor, not on the rack as I am supposed to. I didn't have time to sort them out, so I mumbled my rudest "izvinitye" at her and walked downstairs to lessons. When I got back from my oral class at 12 she had returned to take most my clothes - socks, underwear and all - and put them on the rack. When I returned from translation the job was done. Rules are rules in Russia, no matter how harmless it may be to break them.

Zhanna still doesn't understand that wednesday mornings are speaking practice for us, not for her. We talked about tourism and travel, so when I was allowed to talk I had something to say. My favourite place in the world? Kiev so far. The places I would like to go to to? Latvia - where I might spend the summer, and Siberia, which may take a few years to plan and find the time for.

Aleksandr Ivanovich gave us an article about the foundation of Kievan Russia from the Encarta encyclopaedia, to translate into Russian. It is hard work changing sentences off the top of your head but he respects that we do the best that we can. It was good to re-fill my head with stories of Mongols and Vikings and Prince Yaroslav the Wise. He is an old-fashioned teacher: with a whiteboard and marker pens behind him he writes down new words with a pencil on a piece of paper and holds it in front of him for us to read and copy.

I only had to wait until 2.30 for my second painful Russian conversation of the day. A girl called Vaselisia was talking to Claire in the computer room and found out that the boy sitting next to her was from England. "Do you know, I would very much like to talk to you in your own language." "I expect you are only in Russia to meet girls, our girls are the most beautiful in the world, yes?" "You're interested in Russian culture? Why?". There are enough people who are interested in me only because I am English - I don't have any time for any of them.

For Liisa to get the right kind of lactose-free milk powder she had to ask Johani to ask a friend of his from Finland to order some and bring it when she came to Tver. She and the box arrived today, and I was allowed to sample the first batch in my coffee.

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Photos

A kiosk.
There are kiosks on most streets. The women that run them sit inside from 8 in the morning until 11 at night.