The
first man I saw when I stepped off the plane in Moscow was wearing a fur cap,
and I momentarily thought that Russia just might be everything pop-culture had
lead me to believe. I won't share the extent of my embarrassingly limited knowledge of this vast and mysterious country, but I will admit that beyond some family history I really only knew that Russia is where people got banished to, where all the bad guys are from, and where everyone is dressed in fur year-round, among other trivialities. After one week in Belgorod, a small city south of Moscow
and just across the Ukrainian border (hurray for perogies!) I have found these to be both so and not so.
Belgorod
is quite unlike Turkey, and not unlike Winnipeg. It is cold and quiet. I am
struggling for the first time this year with a few winter hazards: the
treacherousness of icy sidewalks, the robotic body-swivel to look both ways,
and the ‘sweaty-on-the-inside-chilly-on-the-outside’ from not accurately
matching my layers and walking speed with the temperature. Unfortunately, new
spring is not a good look for any snowy city, and Belgorod’s Soviet-era
construction is not enhanced by the season. But our new apartment, however
hideous and frightening from the outside, is palatial on the inside, and we’re
settling in quite nicely - both in our new home and new schedules.
Justin’s
team is VC Lokomotiv Belogorie, and they practice and play at Sports Palace
Cosmos, not too far from home. This club has been historically quite successful;
as evidenced by our new car and the team’s private jet. They play March 10th
and 27th, and as far as I know, games are viewable here.
I’ve just started an online tesol course, so I tracked down Interlingua School of
Foreign Languages, where I’ve spent the last week visiting classes and will
spend the next few participating and potentially assistant teaching. Between course-work, school, cooking all sorts of new things from the HUGE grocery
selection, and exploring our new city with new friends from couchsurfing, I’ve had
plenty to do without ever feeling too busy. Which is wonderful.
I don't know how long we'll be here, but unless you've already got a Russian visa it's probably not long enough for a visit. Rumour is that I might just be back in Canada in no time anyway.
Some first impressions:
The Russian women with their furs, cold expressions, and well manicured nails. The puffy, belted winter
parkas and high-heeled winter boots, in which they unfalteringly navigate the ice
and slush
The Russian men with their furs, their height, chiselled features, and sexy Russian accents
The Russian signs with indecipherable letters
The grocery store is less corner-market and more
Home-Depot: The beer aisle, vodka aisle, and sausage aisle comprise a
considerable portion of the store, and each alone is far larger than the
produce section. We bought a selection of juices to ward of scurvy and are tucking in to cabbage rolls and meatballs.