Although I’m currently sitting in my bedroom back in London,
I feel a final blog about Petersburg is probably a good idea. First of all, the
whole thing was a big success. I’ve said it before but when you leave everything
you know to go to Russia for four months in winter, you don’t know quite what
to expect or how well it’s going to go.
As it turned out, the Durham lot were good company, the city
was mostly very impressive, the new flat worked really well, our lessons at the
uni generally had a nice vibe, my own teaching proved successful / a useful
learning experience and I did find weekly football and a beautiful gym to keep
myself entertained. Of course, there were other parts to the stay but as a general
framework goes, that ticks all the right boxes.
They didn’t come often, but there were probably a few bad
bits as well and a couple of times when I spread myself a bit thin and felt
overly busy. One of those times was in the last week. Obviously all of the
usual things were going on but also the preparations for leaving required a bit
of attention as well and at the same time I was still sorting Spanish things. And
I nearly did. Kind of. The only job one of these intermediary companies said
they could hook we up with was work “in events and entertainment”. Sounds ok,
beggars can’t be choosers, I’ll take the interview. I had it on Tuesday evening
and it went very well. 12 hours later there’s a job offer for me in my email. Excellent.
Well, not quite. With it came a bit of extra information about the work and
where I would be working. As it turns out, I think a main part to my work would
have been giving dance classes to pensioners and dressing up as a clown for kids. And the hotel was quite brutally reviewed on tripadvisor. Suffice it to say,
that offer hasn’t been accepted.
I had quite a funny time on Monday after teaching my class
of programmers (English, not programming), when the boss there – a very
friendly guy actually – offered to give me a lift home. Shenanigans ensued.
First he’d lost his car and for quite some time couldn’t remember where he’d
parked it. While we looked for it, he had an opportunity to tell me that he’d
bought it only a month before and (quote) “bought a driving licence two weeks
later”. That didn’t fill me with confidence. We eventually found the car. I can
see why money had to pass hands for him to get a licence. I found his confused
remarks quite funny (“what am I meant to do here? Am I allowed to go now?” etc)
quite funny, but his tendency to allow a bit of space to open up in front of
him in centre-city traffic before putting his foot down and hitting massive
speeds was a bit scarier. His BMW hit 60mph in less than four seconds, he
claimed. I can believe it. And then, while we were stopped at a traffic light,
a guy came beside the window and handed my driver a little booklet / leaflet
thing. He jokingly gave it to me and told me I’d be interested. As it turned
out, it was a little book of Russian ladies to choose from, complete with an ad
in the back for any budding biznismenka. I left it in the car.
I think that’s about all there is to report from the last
week. Like the 16 before, it was excellent. In a way, I already miss it. To
finish, a quote from a great politician and international figure of our times. “I’ll
be back.”
