16.10.11
I saw a movie today, called "Contagion." Here they called it "Zarajzenie," which has the same root as "Zaraza," which fans at football mathces sometimes yell whenever their team screws up. I enjoyed the movie. I hadn't seen anything from Hollywood since my arrival, so, as strange as it might sound coming from a guy who's not too enthusiastic about main-stream western culture, it was a bit refreshing. Watching an epidemic spread reminds me of degrees of acquaintance. I don't think that's what they're really called; I mean that person A is acquainted to person B to the Nth degree when person A knows someone who knows someone who knows someone ... (N-3 more times) who knows person B. With a viral epidemic, these degrees might have practical significance, whereby acquaintance isn't made by so much as a handshake, but merely through proximity to a person, or by touching common objects, such as a martini glass, within a short timeframe.
I watched the movie in Moscow, since I understand that Dolgoprudny doesn't have a movie theater. I think that's because the internet is fairly well established here, and my impression is that people can download whatever movie they want from file-sharing websites without any repercussions from the law. I don't think Russian law has reached copyright issues yet. I've gone so far as to buy allegedly pirated copies of movies on the street, but I haven't gotten to downloading the latest blockbuster yet. I say that the internet is strong here, but I still haven't hooked my laptop up. I'm waiting to meet my landlord. He or she should be by before the end of the month. In the meantime, I'll make do with whatever I can find. There's a computer at work that I've been able to use. If I get internet at home though, maybe I'll see what downloads are available.
I was in Moscow yesterday too. I enjoy walking there. I like connecting unknown regions to ones I know already. I've taken unexplored routes from metro stations, trying to find my way to the next station on foot. Last weekend the weather was wonderful. I found my way from the station where the central school is located, Mendeleevskaya, to Trubnaya, which looked oddly familiar as I walked up. If I'm not mistaken, I had been at that square a year or two prior, when I was walking around looking for the Dostoevski museum. I went into a mall I had visited once in a previous life, suspecting that there was an M-video store there, which there was and which I entered in order to see if they had any interesting audiobooks. Their selection was horrible, as it often is, but they did have one disk with poems by Nekrasov for a little over two dollars. I'm not much for Russian poetry on audio - the readers tend to get very emotional - but the price was right, and my tastes may change.
On the same day last weekend, after taking the metro from Trubnaya to somewhere else, I remember walking by a big government building in the center of Moscow. I had walked past what I think is the former KGB headquarters, further down the street towards one of Stalin's castles that I'd spotted in the distance, past a big museum that I'd like to visit someday, and suddenly there wasn't anyone else walking around, which made me think that I wasn't supposed to be where I was. I forget which building I was walking by, but I think a sign might have said it was an office building for the administration of the President. There were police cars parked in a small lot across from the broad sidewalk I was walking along. Nevertheless, I walked by unhindered and quickly came back to civilization, to a place I'd frequented many times before. I had reached the China Town metro station. One of the streets in a triangular intersection I recognized as Solyanka, which leads to the hostel I chose whenever I needed to stay the night in Moscow. I crossed the intersection and turned down the street opposite Solyanka to see where it lead. Not five minutes later I found myself approaching Vasilivski Cathedral on the Red Square. To my left, on the other side of a lone restaurant, a whole block had been cleared. They must be planning some construction there. Ahead of me on my right, I could see the clock tower of the Kremlin, and the huge golden domes of the cathedral - the mark of any Russian orthodox church. I've never been on the inside of the cathedral. Judging from the look on the outside, one might expect to find upon entering a wonderland filled with candy and deserts. One of my former colleagues from the American Home joked that Vasilivski Cathedral was the Russian headquarters of Willy Wonka. I'm so stupid I actually believed Willy Wonka could in some way be affiliated with this cathedral on the Red Square. It's colored just that way. I took another unknown street and found my way back to the former KGB headquarters, and took the metro back ot the train station from where I headed back to Dolgoprudny.
Yesterday the weather was horrible, but not bad enough that I'd cancel my weekend walk. Had it been raining, I might have stayed inside. Fortunately, the rain was minimal, and whatever fell was frozen anyway, so I didn't get really wet. What had been the warmest weather the weekend before had become the coldest since my arrival. Over the week the temperature had fallen twenty degrees celcius, or thirty six degrees fahrenheit. It had been over seventy degrees on the Saturday before. Yesterday temperatures were in the upper thirties. My lungs could feel the cold. For a moment I was concerned that I would catch a fierce cold, but then I figured I would have to expose myself to the cold at some point, there's no point in delaying the inevitable. I found it strange that temperatures in the thirties felt so cold in the Autumn and yet rather warm in the Spring. It must be acclimation: in the Fall everyone is used to warmer temperatures than in the Spring. So I rationalized my concern away. If you feel your lungs burning from colder and colder temperatures, don't fret. If you survive the viral onslaught, you'll be all the stronger for the rest of the cold season.
I didn't time the cinema right yesterday, so I walked for a hour before returning home to cook some Turkish chickpeas. I went by the American Embassy on Novinski prospect, turned towards another one of Stalin's castles to confirm the location of a metro stop, walked back to Novinski prospect and turned in a new direction. I passed the Moscow zoo and planetarium, and shortly thereafter come up to a concert hall. There are probably very many concert halls in Moscow, this one was in the name of Tschaikovski. The statue on the sqaure adjacent was probably of the great composer; I didn't check, but turned another unknown corner. It wasn't long before I noticed a cinema across the street, and after studying the approaching intersection, I realized that I was coming back to a place I'd been to many times before. I was approaching Tverskoi Boulevard, a street which I've walked along rather frequently since my arrival last month. I crossed the street (using the very convenient underground tunnel), went into the theater to see what was playing, observed that this one was also showing Zarazjenie, which I'd noticed first at another theater on Novy Arbat, and made plans to come back the following day, which was today. I wasn't too impressed with the auditorium. The view is at least as good at another theater where the movies are less mainstream and consequently much less expensive. The chairs are more comfortable though.

17.10.11
It's quarter to two on Monday. I'm going to have lunch and go to work soon. I'll give lessons from three thirty until ten, come home, whip up a dinner, and go to sleep around twelve thirty. This week should be much easier than the previous ones. Another teacher has returned from vacation, and he gets many of the classes that I was covering for him. I don't envy his schedule. I hope he doesn't get sick immediately and stay home for a few days, but some of those kids are enough to drive anyone insane. I had some fun with some of them last Friday. What a way to end the week, with a group of nine-year olds some of whom haven't mastered the alphabet yet, let alone seen the verb 'to be.' I tried teaching them words for family members, brother, father, mother, things like that. Then they should have been able to say what their names were, and how old they were, but we didn't get that far. Words like 'his' and 'her' were also new, and all that makes for a lot of material for one lesson. About three of the nine students figured things out, another three couldn't care less about whatever wisdom I had to share with them, and the rest maybe tried a bit, but didn't quite get what I was demonstrating.
Young students get more disruptive, the less they care about the material. If you can make the material interesting, then you might manage to teach them something. If they're not interested, then you're sunk. How do you make students interested when they know absolutely nothing? Hell if I know. Before this gig, I'd never taught students with so little knowledge. This principle of interest isn't as true for adults. I think it's mainly because they pay for their own classes. They know that they're paying a lot of money, and this investment translates into more motivation. Even if they're just beginning, they are more focused and work harder. That being said, interesting lessons are still very helpful. In general, I find it's easier to learn something if it's interesting.