This week has been the first time I’ve felt like I’ve
actually had some time at ‘home’. Things are starting to settle down here,
mostly due to the fact that a lot of people are coming down with the first lot
of illnesses of the term, which were inevitably going to start spreading sooner
or later. I’ve spent the majority of my time catching up on emails and work, booking
plane tickets and transfers, and watching bits of Russian TV (dubbed-over
Hannah Montana is particularly worth watching, purely on a level of morbid
fascination). I also tried another gym class to help me decide which one to
sign up for next month. Apparently, all the university clubs are starting in
mid-October too – but I’ll believe it when I see it.
After the long and complicated process of trying to agree on
flights that were convenient and cheap enough, my parents and I finally managed
to book them for Friday and Tuesday – hopefully the perfect amount of time for
me to see everyone at home but not get too homesick when I come back. Today,
Natasha, who works in the university’s International Relations Office, let me
print off my flight itinerary and went with me to the travel agency across the
road to book my airport transfers – which was above and beyond the call of
duty. She even lent me the 2600r (£52) that the agency needed in cash to make
the booking. It’s true what they say about Russians – they’re not good with
strangers, but once they know you they’ll do everything they can to help you
out.
When I arrived home I had yet another successful conversation
with my hoz (the nickname we’ve developed for our хозайки, or
landlords) in which I told her all my plans for the next few days and tried a
bit more banter. My tentative request for a bit of food to take with me on
Friday, which I had been debating, was a success; she told me brightly that she
would get me a roll and some fruit. Result! I really do think she wants to look
after me now, even if she is a bit tight with money (see the washing episode). Almost
every morning I come into the kitchen to another variety of cereal; I get given
the pies and jams that she makes; and she was the person who advised me that
the маршрут was the best form of airport
transfer and helped me research it on the Internet. On Sunday evening, when I
didn’t get in until almost 11pm, having told her I’d be back at 7, I’d been
worried she hadn’t got my messages and calls and had cooked me dinner. But she
had got my text and was grateful I’d let her know, and said she’d actually been
worried when I was even later than expected and had been about to call me
herself.
This afternoon I went to meet some of the girls we’d met at
the Russian school, who’d contacted me the day before. They helped me choose a
Russian book from the shop, as I’d decided now would be the best time to buy
heavy things, as I could easily take them back with me. After that we went to a
café; they were speaking English, and I Russian, so it was all good practice. Even
though they’re young, they’re nice people to spend time with and it’s a great
way for us all to improve.
My packing is done and now I have the evening to myself. It’s
a strange feeling, knowing that I’m going to be home in a couple of days, and I
keep getting pangs of excitement just thinking about it. Will won’t be there
(he’s gone to the Seychelles now) and nor will most of my friends, but seeing
my mum and the rest of my family is going to be so amazing. One more day to go!
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