Eurovision!

I promise a dissertation on Eurovision before the week is out. In summary, while it's officially the Eurovision Song Contest, songwriting is just about the last consideration. Contestants are evaluated on the basis of:
- staging
- looks
- catchiness
- kitschiness
- how favorably their country is viewed by people voting in other countries
- musical talent
- looks
- lyrics

This was only my third Eurovision, but I will admit to being a bit obsessed with it when it comes around.

Anyway, how it works is, each country chooses somebody to send to represent their country in the song contest. This year, 42 countries participated. There are always 24 countries in the final round: Britain, France, Germany, Spain (because these four countries are the biggest sponsors), the top 10 from the previous years, and the top 10 from the semifinal, which airs earlier in the week (and which I've never seen).

There are 24 performances, most of which are delightfully over-the-top and in terrible English (this year's winner was the first winning song since 1998 to contain no English lyrics). The winner is determined by phone voting. You can't vote for the country you're in, which is reasonable. Each country announces its top 10, with 12 points going to first, 10 to second, 8 to third and 7-1 to the 4th-10th.

People always complain about the voting because it seems to be about culture or politics, rather than about the music. Germany ranked Turkey highly because there are a lot of Turkish immigrants in Germany. Russia gives points to Georgia, but not vice-versa, for the same reason. Malta always gives the UK 12 points. The former Yugoslav republics have each others' backs (to some extent). Russia, Belarus, and Ukraine vote for each other. Israel votes for Russia, Belarus and Ukraine. Cyprus votes for Greece. Turkey gives points to Armenia, but not vice-versa. The Scandinavian countries vote for each other, but it's slightly less blatant, and I think it's actually in response to the other blocs. This, for me, is just part of what makes Eurovision Eurovision, but some people are actually upset about it and there is talk of the western countries, which get screwed over due to their stable borders and low emigration rates, withdrawing in protest.

Actually, this is almost a dissertation. So I promise a dissertation on this last Eurovision in particular (which was my favorite of the three, despite the lack of Croatia, Dima Bilan, or the Eurovision drinking game) sometime soon.


I also bought a hat today, because I have decided that I no longer go outside without covering my head and I was getting bored of scarves. If I could afford it (not even close: gloves are very expensive!), I'd start wearing gloves everywhere. Nobody would notice, or care, because when you're a foreigner living in Russia you can wear pretty much whatever you want. This is partly because Russians are very flashy and just flat-out ignore traditional rules of dress. If you decide to wear a leopard-print vinyl miniskirt, you're still the most conservatively dressed person in the room. If you feel like wearing three slightly-but-observably different flower prints, you're still one of the most coordinated. And it's partly because they have low expectations for foreigners (especially Americans). If you decide to wear unironed jeans and tennis shoes everywhere, well, that's just what Americans wear.

Next time someone asks me why I live in Russia, I will direct them to this blog entry. It's all about Eurovision and hats.


In other, more important, news: tomorrow is open-toed shoe day!

Today I was explaining to one class that they can't use "fall" in the present perfect continuous ("I have been falling") unless they find themselves in a bottomless pit because it's generally a short action ("I've fallen"). They, and every other Russian I've told this story to since, pointed out that it's okay to say "I've been falling in love," and I had to concede that it was, to which one student said, "so, love changes everything...even the grammar rules!"


I finally bought a dress for summer. I was about to give up for the day when I saw it, decided that I could at least try it on, and was surprised to find that it looked really good (this was confirmed by the friend I was shopping with, so it's not just my rampant narcissism).

The whole thing made me realize that I have an extremely predictable personal style. It involves boring hair, boring makeup, a boring, layered top, a boring, dark-colored or gray skirt, and "what are you wearing on your feet?!?" I know this because my first thought upon buying this dress was "what can I wear over this?" and my second was "now I need some orange shoes!"

I like this predictability, actually, because it will make all future shopping much easier.


In other, more important, news, Eurovision is tomorrow!

I told him that photo would come back to haunt him

I just wanted to post about this because I found it disturbing:
http://chronicle.com/wiredcampus/index.php?id=2029

When I read the summary, and that she was accused of promoting underage drinking, I assumed that she was underage in the photo. Actually, she's 27 and the photo was taken two years ago.

It actually reminds me of the case in the 1970s that allowed pregnant teachers to keep their jobs. (Which I read about in Glamour, of all places). Basically, teachers used to be pushed out of their jobs as soon as they were visibly pregnant because it was thought that the sight of them would make students uncomfortable. These were married teachers at public schools. More recent cases that you can google involve unmarried or fertility-treatment-using teachers at religious schools, which could be two other blog posts right there.

How does one draw a connection between bringing a new life into this world and drinking whilst wearing a pirate hat? It's the idea that students can't handle the fact that their teachers have lives outside of work. Or the idea that, if that bothers students (or, more likely, their parents), that that is somehow the teacher's responsibility. This is completely unreasonable. As long as they're teaching and not discussing their child-conceiving or drinking habits at school, they have fulfilled their professional responsibility.*

Just for fun, if I ever move back to the US, I'll start holding everybody in every profession to the same standards that teachers are held to. This means, to start with, that I won't be watching TV, listening to music, or watching movies. Shopping in general might be iffy, since it's likely that at least half the store employees have myspace pages, and half of those probably make some mention of some kind of inappropriate behavior. Oh, and no more voting or taxes, either.

I'm not arguing that it was a good idea on her part. What I am saying is that it shouldn't matter. Obviously, it does, and teachers who want to get or keep jobs have to work within that stupid, stupid system. On that note, I also don't understand why the university couldn't have just warned her, which would have been helpful.


* - I say "they" because the TEFL industry in Russia is very (in fact, a little too) far removed from this situation.

And after many glasses of work

I never say that I have an addictive personality. That implies that my personality is so wonderful that people can't get enough of it. And while that is, of course, true, it's not something I need to go around announcing. I don't know the adjective for what I want to say.

This is my way of saying that I bought a pair of shoes. Well, I kind of needed the shoes (they're low-heeled and black and replacing a very old, no longer supportive pair).

It's actually my way of saying that I have a holiday this week and am not sure what to do with myself. I don't have to work again until May 7th. I don't even have to think about work again until May 6th. Given that I've been working 150% of my contract teaching hours, not to mention the other stuff that I do, it's been a long time since I've had this much free time.

And how is it that I was even working that hard in the first place? I left America partly because of the workaholic culture. I felt like I'd have to spend most of my life working just to survive. Russians have (many, many) more holidays and work fewer hours per week than most Americans.

Of all the people I know back home, I assumed I was the least likely to get sucked into this stupid workaholic culture, due to my inherent laziness. But here I am, wondering if the place (which isn't even open for classes) is going to fall apart without me, or if my students are going to forget their English. I know that some of this is my own personality, but I think American culture is at least partly to blame. Why is it that Russians don't seem to have any trouble taking long holidays in the middle of the year?

Though I guess they just have different socially acceptable addictions. Work is better for my liver. Probably.


In other news, this happened back home: http://www.cnn.com/2007/US/04/30/highway.collapse.ap/index.html
Amazingly, nobody was killed, and even the driver was able to walk away with minor injuries, which means you're allowed to gawk at the pictures.

Here's a question for some mega nerd out there: how long does this section of freeway have to be out, thereby forcing some portion of commuters onto public transport, to create a net drop in air pollution? You have to account for:
1. the giant fireball which started the whole thing
2. the extra public transport being made available
3. the fact that some of the commuters will probably be driving longer distances instead
4. the air pollution created by the repair machines

Still in Russia

Yeltsin died on Monday, and today is a national day of mourning, which as far as I can tell just means there's a funeral (actually, wikipedia says he's being buried as I type this). Because I don't understand Russian well enough, I can't tell if the media coverage here is as obnoxious as it is in America when a former president dies. It would be more justified, since he was the first democratically elected president and all, but I do like the fact that he's being buried in a timely manner rather than touring the country. I also appreciate that the Yeltsin critics I know seem to have backed off for now.

There's a lot of nostalgia for the Soviet Union here, particularly among old people and people who are about my age. Old people have lower pensions and less social support under the current economic situation, and I think the people my age just feel nostalgic. They would have been children during Soviet times, and my impression is that they were more sheltered (i.e., less worried about nuclear war) than American children. It is also true that a lot of Russians suffered greatly during the mid-1990's (one student claimed that half the people he finished university with were murdered). People also percieve terrorism to be a bigger problem now than it was before the collapse.* Anyway, the end result is that a lot of Russian people don't have anything nice to say about Yeltsin or Gorbachev.

In happier news, I started teaching at a software company this week. I have to say, as far as business English goes, nerds are probably my favorite demographic to teach. They ask good questions and don't try to pick you up. They tend to be a bit full of themselves, which bothers some teachers, but I just find it funny. One student says "yes, that's correct" every time I tell him how to say something correctly. "Oh, good," I say, "I was worried."

Another student is apparently obsessed with quantum mechanics. I'm not sure what this entails, but I keep using blue and violet whiteboard markers in the hopes that he'll freak out about his electrons' being dislodged.


At another company, one of my students has decided that his next wife is going to be hard-working, a bit of a workaholic, will like to travel, be a bit adventurous and impulsive, younger than him and "probably not Russian." I'm not sure where he thinks he's going to meet this woman.


* - I have no idea if it really is. It doesn't make logical sense to me that it would be, or that it's linked in any way to the collapse of the USSR, but it has a certain truthiness.

Siberia!

So, the plane tickets are purchased and now I can say that I'm going to Siberia!

Coworker: People used to say that in the 1950's, too, but I think it was in a different tone.

I wrote a possible itinerary and now have to go about getting all my ducks in a row so I can write the final itinerary. But, basically, I'm going to New York for my brother's graduation, on to California for a couple weeks at home, then to Beijing for a few days (trying to figure out just how many is the hard part), then I'm taking the trans-Mongolian railway back to Moscow. So, from Beijing, I want to go to another city in China because otherwise it's a long train ride. In any case, it goes: Beijing - ? - Ulan Baatar (the capital of Mongolia) - Ulan Ude (first stop in Russia) - Lake Baikal and Irkutsk, where I'll spend a few days - Zima (which not only breaks up the train journey, but was also described as "a weird little town" on one website and has a poem written about it) - Krasnoyarsk - Novosibirsk - Omsk - Tobolsk - Yekaterinburg, where I'll spend another few days - Perm - Nizhny Novgorod - Moscow. Of course, this is idealistic, as train timetables, money, and the fact that I might get fed up and quit will all disrupt the itinerary. But this is the dream.

And it has led to the biggest packing challenge of my life (which is why I've started thinking about it two months in advance). I need to bring a camera, documents, money, and some other stuff. The other stuff has to be suitable for a graduation ceremony in New York (my current wardrobe, I feel, is inadequately preppy), walking around New York City (inadequately fashionable), walking around Beijing (I don't really think I can blend in here, but I don't want to stand out more than I have to), walking around small, nature-infested Siberian towns and Lake Baikal (inadequately rugged), walking around bigger Russian cities (I at least have this one covered), and spending a lot of time on trains. It will also have to not need ironing, be hand-washable, and fit into no more than two small bags and a backpack.

Anyway, I went shopping this weekend for something graduation-y (I decided to start from the beginning of the journey), but all I found were tent-shaped minidresses, dresses with a waistband that is supposed to fall somewhere around your hips (this wasn't due to my height (I have more sense than to try such a dress on), it's the way the dresses are actually supposed to fit), a lot of loud prints, and some passable clothes that were out of my price range. There was also a nice red skirt that I could afford and that looked like it would probably fit, but by the time I came across it I was feeling far too pear-shaped for a brightly colored skirt. It would have been inadequately preppy, anyway.

Anyway, looking around at all the cute clothes made me think of how much money I've probably saved by being rather difficult to shop for. If I were six feet tall and rail-thin, there's no way I'd have enough money to go to Siberia because I'd have spent all my money on clothes because everything I tried on would look good. At least, that's what I imagine such a life would be like.

I also discovered that, no matter how many shoes I have, I can't not walk into a shoe store. Just to look, of course. I'm like a recovering alcoholic who still goes to bars, or a newlywed who still reads Craigslist. In other words, it might not end well.

High-strung

Happy Easter! I hope that yours was better than mine. Food poisoning or stomach flu thwarted my weekend plans (which involved going to church and buying plane tickets), so now I am freaking out about my summer plans (or, rather, lack thereof). If summer doesn't work out, I'll probably do something expensive in May (new mobile phone, train around the Baltic states), but I'd need to get to work on that post haste.

Conversation today:
another teacher: You seem high-strung today.
me: ...today? Have you met me before?


Now I'm going to write about books. If you haven't read Anna Karenina, you shouldn't read any further because I'm going to spoil the ending.

In my sick time, I read The House of the Spirits by Isabel Allende, which I did not like at all, and Wide Sargasso Sea by Jean Rhys, which I loved. It was all about semi-political female-written first-person-narrated unsuccessful-marriage-including books about members of formerly powerful families in Central and South America this week.

I read The House of the Spirits because I had read something else by Allende and didn't like it. When I read something I don't like by a famous author, I usually try to read another book, just to make sure. Sometimes, this has worked out really well. The best example of this is Haruki Murakami: I didn't like Norweigan Wood, but I've loved everything of his that I've read since that. Not so with Allende. It was the idea of the story in general and the foreshadowing in particular that I couldn't deal with. If Allende had written Anna Karenina, it would have gone something like this: "Anna looked at the train, unaware that one day she would throw herself in front of one." And she would have somehow deserved it because of something her grandfather did years ago, unaware that his granddaughter would one day throw herself in front of a train.

I don't know what I'll read next. For the first time since coming to Russia, I actually have a lot to choose from. So life, in that one respect, is good. Life is also good in the respect that I have a lot of shoes. And that about sums it up.

Wreck a nice beach

I always admit it when I make mistakes in class, and I tell the teachers to do the same, because if you insist that you're right, your students might go home and look it up, and then you'll come out looking like an insecure jerk. If they don't look it up, they'll end up copying your mistake, causing their next teacher to have to clean up your mess. Just admit that you're wrong and move on with your lesson.

Anyway, I made a mistake in class the other day and my student's response to this mistake was "you're not a robot!"*

My very first thought? "Like robots never make mistakes with language. Gosh!"

And I wonder why one of the teachers keeps quoting Napoleon Dynamite to me.


I walked into class the other day and one of my students said "you are very beautiful." It took me a moment to realize that that's pre-intermediate-level speak for "you look nice today" because they haven't learned that construction yet. They'll learn it in chapter 6, but now I kind of don't want to teach it.


* - not, by the way, in a sympathetic tone like "don't worry, everybody makes mistakes," which I would have found a bit condescending, but in more of a surprised tone like "well, I guess I owe somebody a Coke," which I found kind of flattering.

The cause of, and solution to, all of life's problems

I am a nerdy, obnoxious drunk. I spent my Saturday evening insisting to this guy named Luke that he was *totally* named after the Star Wars character, and his parents' first date *totally* must have been one of the Star Wars movies, and that is *totally* cute. Becuase, you know, that name didn't exist before Star Wars.

I spent my Sunday vowing never to drink or leave the house ever again.


1. If you could suddenly speak one language fluently (that you don't currently speak) what would it be?
Russian, because it would make my life easier. Or maybe Old Church Slavic, because it's more unusual, and would make learning Russian easier anyway.

2. If you were to suggest a foreign film, that you really enjoyed, what one would you suggest?
Amelie, Rashomon, The Seven Samurai, The Idiot, Ran, Ivan the Terrible, Yi Yi, some others.

3. If you had to call another country home (other than the one you currently live in) what one would you choose?
Hmm...I suppose America would be the obvious answer. But, actually, Sweden. Good health care, good social programs, and it looks like a model railroad set.

4. If you went out to buy an import music CD, what one would you buy?
I have no idea what counts as import. I get everything from iTunes or the Zelenograd network now.

5. If you were to chose an ethnic dinner, what would it be?
Decent, affordable Chinese food, or maybe sushi that actually came from the ocean to my plate without being frozen in between. Or heirloom tomatoes (does upper middle class count as an ethnicity?)

Really I'm just jealous because I wish the world revolved around me

I was sick yesterday, so I called in sick, which means I don't get paid. I also made a mistake on some documents on Monday that had to be done, er, on Monday. So I had to go to work yesterday anyway. Paperwork takes less energy than teaching, but considerably more energy than sleeping the day away and drinking orange juice.

Also annoying is the fact that Spring is here and the sun is out, which will, of course, add years and years and freckles to my appearance and give me cataracts when I'm old. To make matters worse, everybody else is all "Woohoo! Photons!" because they love premature aging, I suppose.

I've just started to remind myself of Mr. Burns. That can't be good.

The good news is, Moscow is actually protected by a cloud of pollution, so it's not as bad as, say, California, what with its semi-clean air and fresh food. And it's the first week of the year that the streets aren't totally destructive to normal, non-waterproof shoes.

But the point of this post was to mention that I'm still alive, and to wonder out loud what I should do this summer. Basically, I have to go to New York (and Boston, because I've been meaning to visit for about 4 years now). But what then? Do I fly back to Moscow? Do I go to California for a while and then fly back to Moscow?

Or do I attempt the superholiday? The superholiday will take me from Moscow to New York to San Francisco to Beijing and then across Siberia by train, back to Moscow. I would have to plan this all in 2.5 months. And, actually, since I'm going to New York no matter what, I have to buy that ticket as soon as possible. So the question I have to answer now is whether I buy round trip or one-way. Buying round trip means that I have forfeited the superholiday. Buying one way means that I could still forfeit the superholiday, but it would be a monumental waste of money to do so (of course, some would say that the superholiday itself is a monumental waste of money, but let's assume for the sake of argument that it's not).