Another week over, another weekend is here. The film on Wednesday
was well worth the trip; it was on later than we’d expected but we didn't mind
waiting around – it just gave us an excuse to play on the air hockey tables and
wander round the shops. When we eventually got to see the film, it had a good
enough plot and it was a great buzz being able to understand everything that
was going on.
By the time we were out of the cinema it was nearly 11 o’clock
and there was no sign of our trolleybus home. After waiting for over twenty
minutes in the cold, sheltering from the rain under the metal bus shelter, we
were lucky enough to spot a bus that was going to Улица Свободы – close enough, and at any rate better than waiting there,
miles outside of town without the vaguest idea where we were. It was admittedly
a bit worrying when the bus seemed to be taking us even more into the middle of
nowhere, but the conductor assured us we would be going into the centre of
town, and logically it would have been difficult to abduct all five of us.
Safely in our home territory, we made our way to Cocktail
Bar, where a big group were out celebrating one of the girls’ birthdays. Someone
must have started up a conversation with some Russians earlier on in the night
because now we were in two big mixed groups. I was lucky enough to get chatting
to a couple of the Russians, and ended up having intellectual conversations
about literature and the existence of the soul. It was 3.30am again before we
started to break off, but I felt I’d had a really good experience by talking to
the Russians for so long. Having been told by Lyudmila only a few days before
that my Russian had improved, that night confirmed it for me and gave me the
confidence boost I needed.
The next day I was one of the few people who made it to
class, and left straight afterwards with the intention of having a quick nap to
prepare me for my exercise class that evening. However, I soon got into
emailing and spent the whole afternoon getting up-to-date with friends and
family. Lyudmila gave me dinner at 5.15 as requested, and I decided to try and
start up a conversation with her again whilst she was still in the room. I often
find it difficult to start a proper conversation with her because I can’t find
anything to ask; since she’s retired and has so little family, she’s rarely got
any news and doesn't do anything during the day that I can ask her about.
However, that day I had a spark of inspiration and decided to ask her if she
was going to vote in the local elections that Sunday.
Her answer took me by surprise; she said she wasn't going to
vote because it didn't concern her. Her view was that her vote wouldn't make a
difference, and at any rate the young people should decide since she was old
and wouldn't live much longer anyway. I was taken aback by this and didn't really know how to respond. I decided the best solution was to agree to as much
an extent as I legitimately could, which meant saying that politics was
essentially a waste of time because politicians rarely made a big difference to
anything (which I suppose is slightly true of local politics at least).
This got us on to the topic of national politics and the
corruption in Russia, which in turn moved us on to talking about life in Soviet
Russia, as this topic usually does. Lyudmila told me that when she was a child,
she had lived in another apartment block not far from here, in a three-family
flat. The flat had a communal kitchen, toilet and bathroom, and one room for
each family. I told her how inconceivable this was for me, and she conceded
that it had been cramped and the living conditions had been difficult. However,
she also said that the families became very close in this way, and remembered
how at Christmastime the fathers of each family would bring presents for all
the family. They became like one big family, and she still knows some of the
children she made friends with now – all who are still alive.
After dinner I had a couple of hours before I had to force
myself into the cold, wet night and making my way to Zumba. The class proved to
be good fun and good exercise. The music was a mixture of Latin and jives, and
by the time the class had finished I was in a much better mood. I asked about
the half-month membership and decided to sign up the following Monday. As I was
leaving without my jacket on, I was met by a collective cry of the Russian
equivalent of, “Put some clothes on! You’ll catch your death!” So it’s not just
the older people who constantly worry about you being cold after all.
The next day was just another ordinary Friday, apart from
the fact we tried out a new place for lunch. We ended up staying for hours just
chatting and laughing, before going our separate ways until the evening. That evening
we met at 8.30 to take the trolleybus to an Irish pub, Первый Паб,
on the outskirts of town, where our teachers were meeting us to watch live
Irish music. The lyrics were barely recognisable as English but the songs were
traditional and the band lively and enthusiastic. They even asked for members
of the audience to play the bongos on two occasions, a challenge Ed and Josh
happily took up. Ed even happened to know all the words to one of them, a
traditional Dutch drinking song.
It was past midnight by the time we were ready to leave, and
taxis were thin on the ground. Only a few people managed to get through to
book, so several taxis were ordered and we just had to hope we would all fit
in. Luckily, someone came and fetched me when the first arrived, and even
though sitting on one of the guy’s laps didn't make for the most comfortable journey I've ever had, we made it to Король
Королю, a club we hadn't tried yet, in one piece.
Our first impressions of the place were mixed; the club was
in a big business complex and had to be entered by going down a set of dingy
stone steps. The lobby was dimly lit and from what we could see of the rest of
the inside, it wasn't much different. One of the bouncers told the guys they
would have to pay 300r to get in (girls were free, as usual) so Beth and I went
to check out if it were worth it.
Seeing two men walk in for free, we took matters into our
own hands and started escorting the guys from our group one by one into the
main room, as being accompanied by a woman seemed to make entry easier. After a
few of them were through the rest decided to brave it on their own and got
through without any problems. Obviously the bouncers on this door hadn't got
the memo about ripping the English people off.
A few shots and a lot of dancing made it a good night and by
4.30 we were ready to leave. It was still pouring with rain and we had no idea
where we were so decided the only option was to jump in a taxi. I negotiated a
price and Josh, Beth and I made our way home.
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