The actual groups that I teach vary enormously. I have a small group of adult beginners, a larger advanced group in their late teens and twenties, a group of 11 year olds, and several groups of teenagers of varying ages. So it's pretty mixed. The lessons are quite long - all my classes at Skhodneskaya are 3 academic hours. So they take quite a lot of planning. And keeping younger kids occupied for several hours on end is pretty difficult.

My earliest classes are at 3pm, which suits my body clock pretty well. On Mondays and Thursdays, I don't even start till 7pm. It's very strange - holded up throughout the city is an unncountable number of nocturnal, red-eyed, pale-skinned English teachers. We only come out at night...

So a little bit about my timetable. I realise that for most people reading this probably isn't very interesting, but every time I tell a good anecdote a certain member of my family has a panic attack...

Anyway. I have 24 hours of teaching a week at the moment. That's 24 'academic' hours, which works out as about 18 or 20 'astronomical' hours, and so I'm not quite sure how many real or 'English' hours I'm on at the moment. For those people who think I'm slacking off, don't forget I spend a lot of time planning lessons, travelling, doing administrative things, and so on.

My teaching is divided equally between two centres. 12 hours a week are at Skhodnenskaya, which I've already mentioned, and the other 12 are at Mitino. Mitino is about 20 minutes by bus to the north-west from me, just outside the Moscow ring road. So technically it's outside of Moscow but it's more built up than where I live, at Planernaya. I think Mitino is/was a separate town but it has been pretty much swallowed up by the Moscow sprawl.

FCE Group Oral Discussion
Topic: If you could meet one famous person, who would it be and why?

Student A: I would meet... Vladimir Putin... because he is our leader... he is a great man....
Student B: I would meet... Mike Tyson.... I want to ask him what ear tastes like...
Student C: Well, yeah, I'd like to meet Ian Brown but, no, most of all I guess I'd have to say Bobbie Gillespie - I've always been a big fan of the Scream, as I call them, and I want to interview him for my fanzine.

HOUND OF THE UNDERGROUND

Walking back from the central school to the metro yesterday, I was followed by a large, rather mangry, and probably rabid, stray dog. Howling, limping, dribbling - he was doing it all. And he was definitely following me - across a busy main road and then the tram line, and then down behind the shopping centre. Not very pleasant.

So I was quite relieved to make it into the metro and through the ticket barriers. Safe! But half-way down the very long and steep escalator I heard a definite howl - yes, the dog had followed me into the metro and was now riding the escalator on the step behind me. The other passengers started to give me funny looks... well, funnier than usual. How dare I being such a mutt onto the metro?

All was well, however. When we got to the bottom of the escalator he took a different train.

Progress: I am starting to get my own groups to teach now, all at Skhodnenskaya, instead of simply covering for other teachers. Having said that, I was sent over to Korolev again for the third, and final, time, on Tuesday. Anyway, I will write about my groups when I have met them all.

For now, I want to write a few words about my flat mate. Before coming to teach in Eastern Europe, first the Czech Republic and now Russia, he worked as researcher in the Los Alamos lab in New Mexico... quite a career change, I think!

Although American, he looks very slavic - big beard, long face. In fact, he looks like your archetypal Chechnyan terrorist. At least the police think so - they have stopped him on the metro and checked his ID nine times in three months. Or perhaps they are just after money.

As a flat mate, he has his good points and his bad points. In his favour, he is knowledgeable about everything from fluid dynamics to modernist poetry - and against him, well, he has a nasty fungal foot infection that won't shift. He's also a vegetarian which makes sharing cooking duties interesting. My repertoire of vegetarian meals is limited, but now growing.

So I've been here just over a week! My regular timetable should start on Monday - I have found out that I will be teaching at Skhodninskaya, which is one metro station down the line from where I am living. It's so close as to be walkable. That's great news, as Language Link did consider posting me to VDNKh, which is about 15 stops away on a different metro line.

It's still pretty mild here. There are puddles everywhere so I guess it is a little above freezing, at least in the day. Everything is dripping and slushy. It's not too pleasant! Of course, when it gets cold again everything will freeze over and the city will be like a skating rink.

On Thursday and Friday last week I was covering for an ill/absent teacher in a town called Korolev, which is about 40 minutes' train ride north of Moscow - on the train line to Yarsolavl. So that was quite a hike, but one of the regular teachers at that school, a bloke called Nick, was from Reading - and had been teaching there for five years. So he had a lot of stories to tell.

Just a quick post to say that I arrived okay after a surprisingly uneventful journey. I've settled into a new flat, haven't started teaching yet - apart from covering for a teacher who fell ill - and am feeling quite happy and adjusted.

We are just coming out of a cold spell. It's only about -2C today but on Saturday night it fell to -25 or so, the coldest I've ever experienced. So cold that your nosehairs freeze up after about a minute. In fact, I bought a 1.5litre bottle of 7-Up from a shop (not a kiosk) and it was frozen - a big bottle of ice.

The area I'm living in is called Planernaya, it's in the north-west. There's a metro station close by (the last one on the line - real suburbia!), a permanent market, a few shops and not much else! Oh, and a small supermarket about 10 minute's walk away.

The flat itself is two-bedroom, quite spacious really. No living room but one of the bedrooms is significantly bigger and doubles as a living room during the day. This is common Russian practice. We're on the first floor (2nd floor to Russians), we have a TV, a phone line, it's warm enough at night.

My flatmate is from New Mexico, he's been in Russia for three months but before that was teaching in the Czech Republic. We seem to be getting on quite well.

I have computer access at the main school, which is in central Moscow on the circle line (one change away, about 45 minutes from door to door). I will probably not be teaching there; instead, I think I will be posted to one of the 'schools' in the north of Moscow. Language Link have about 10 or so centres scattered around the city.

Managed to meet up with Kostya already; saw him to celebrate 'Old New Year' on the day before yesterday. He's living on the same metro line as me but the final stop in the opposite direction! So it's quite a long journey.

Well, I think that's enough for today!

MY LAST DAY IN ENGLAND...

This will probably be the last post for a few days, as I am flying out to Russia tomorrow and it might take me a while to find my feet. So I'll try to make this an interesting post. Actually, for interesting just read 'long' as I doubt I'm going to get much sleep tonight anyway.

Today then, I went down to the Consulate as planned (the trains were running - spot on!), and collected my visa. That wasn't quite so spot on, due to the new 'queuing' system they have with the turnstile-style gates and high-tech surveillance equipment that I must have told you about before. I won't go into boring details but the upshot was I had to queue in the cold for over an hour before the staff deigned to grant me admittance. And that was only after I resorted to pushing the intercom button every ten seconds for a good five minutes while simultaneously waving and grinning like a monkey at the CCTV. A risky tactic, I admit, but it paid off. And the standing around in the cold was good practise I admit.

Also did a lot of panicky last-minute shopping and photocopying today, and started packing (my room currently looks like a bomb's hit it; and yes, insert joke here). The only remaining task is to cram everything into my stinky suitcase, which I think I'll leave until tomorrow morning.

I had another e-mail from Denis, the secretary at Dubravushka, today. Only he isn't the secretary any more; the big news is he's left and is working for a free-ads paper in Obninsk. This is very *good* news, as the school used to work him like an ox - they knew that if they turfed him out, it would be national service for him. And trust me, you don't want to be in the Russian army. I guess Denis must have passed the age where he has to do service and so is now free to do what he wants. I hope he's happy in his new job. I really wish him well, and I'll try to keep in touch.

Forgot to mention yesterday that I managed to recover my scarf which I had left round a friend's house about three weeks previously. It's funny how little things take on great importance. but I have my scarf back now, to go with my hat collection (2 - the most hats I have ever owned in my life), and my newly purchased gloves. Winter? Bring it on!

RANDOM THOUGHTS ON TRAVELLING

Now, as it's the eve of my departure, I'd like to witter on for a little while about travelling. Although I've been to a reasonable number of places, mostly in Europe I admit, I've never actually done much proper travelling. I mean, I go to places - to visit them, or like now, to live and work - but I don't *travel*. That is, I've never done a Palin - a big, exploratory, adventurous journey. Me, I just hop on a plane, and hop off a few hours later. It takes less time to get to Moscow than it does to drive up to York. It doesn't seem right somehow!

But whenever I do go away, I always get the fear just beforehand. Right now, for example, as I'm writing this, I feel that going back to Russia is the stupidest thing I've ever done, and that I would be much better off applying for that 'bookseller's' job I saw advertised in Hammicks. I mean, it's cold and everything's disorganised (Russia, not Hammicks). I've even got the fear about teaching right now. What if this, and what if that... running through worst-case scenarios all the time. It's terrible. I've certainly got the fear about my Russian ability. And my accommodation... just everything. What if everyone dies when I'm away! What if the cat gets a cold! Actually, it's pretty stupid, and I should know better.

So I'm trying to push all that to the back of my mind. In 24 hours, I'll be so pumped I'll have forgotten all about the fear; in 48, with any luck, I'll have regained my equilibrium.

I've decided that going to live in other countries is a really bad thing. Once you've done it once, for the rest of your life and wherever you call home you will have friends in a different country. You will always want to live in two different places, and never will be able to. It's very disorientating. I suppose you could say the same thing just about moving from place to place within the same country, but somehow it's different.

For me, the worst thing about going away (the travelling part) is when you go through the check-in bit at the airport. Suddenly it's so definite, so final. It's like a whole country, a continent even, has dropped down between you and the people who have come to see you off. Even though there's still only metres between you.

And airports! I think everyone, or maybe just every Christian with an imagination, has their own conception of what Hell is like. Mine is a giant airport that you can never ever leave. And nothing ever happens. You just wait, and wait, and tanoys go off around you, and people come and go, but you are stuck there forever. On your own - and you have to watch your bags all the time. And it's a little too hot or a little too cold; just a little.

I tried to write a poem about that once, but it sort of mutated into a poem about a supermarket. I guess there are a lot of similarities between the two places!

Airports are hell for me;
Supermarkets are my purgatory.

I think I might have to work on the metre there! And sorry about being so depressing, I'm just trying to outwrite the fear. Actually, I should go and pretend to sleep.

The next time I write something in this weblog, I'll be back in Russia! How's that for a thought?!

And I've just read this (again on the BBC website): "There were 120 flights cancelled from Heathrow Airport to Europe due to the extreme conditions." It's kind of par for the course really. I go somewhere, or try to, and everything grinds to a halt. Last time I only went to Northampton and look what happened - the whole town was very nearly blown away by a huge freak storm. Ah well. But anyway, I hope my flight won't be cancelled.

Well, snow has been falling today in the Thames Valley - the most for nine years, apparently. On the plus side, it is helping me get geared up, psychologically, for Russia. Although I hope that the trains are running tomorrow morning as I need to go back to the Consulate and collect my visa. If there are no trains, I don't know how I'll get there. And if I can't get there, I can't fly on Friday. How ironic would that be - my trip to Russia sabotaged by English snow!

As for the weather in Russia at the moment, well. This is what the BBC website had to say: "More than 20,000 people across Russia have been left without heating as temperatures plunge to record lows. Russian news agencies report that thermometers plummeted to -37C in the Moscow suburbs overnight on Tuesday."

That's really reassuring.

Me to Kostya: 'My suitcase still stinks from your cat last year.'
Kostya to me: 'My flat still stinks from you last year.'

Touche.

It's Christmas in Russia today. I'm still in England, so it looks like I've missed out on my ambition of having two Christmasses this year...

I will be in Russia for Orthodox New Year, though, which must be coming up in the next week or so. However I don't think it is much of a substitute for missing Orthodox Christmas, as Russians just celebrate New Year when we do. No, I don't understand either. And I'm not quite sure what Russians do do on Orthodox New Year, go to church for about four hours probably. Whoop.

My flight tickets came today. Everything is still going to plan. This is surprising.

My suitcase still stinks from when Kostya's cat pissed in it last year. I've tried everything - soap, air-freshener, leaving it outside on a windy day - and it still stinks. I just hope it doesn't set the sniffer dogs off at Sheremitievo on Friday. 'I'm not smuggling drugs, honest, just a cat pissed in my suitcase... nice doggie...'

Also, in a flash of inspiration, I have decided what to call my book in progress (I have written a chapter and a half). Are you ready for it? My book will be called: 'This Is Russia' . Sounds innocuous enough, but I have come to hate these three words and all they symbolise! Well, it's a sort of love-hate thing. Let me explain. The phrase is a sort of mantra that Russians repeat (to me at least) whenever anything breaks down, blows up, fails to arrive, goes missing, causes mass death, and so on. It's sort of like when you were a kid and you would complain, 'that's not fair!' - and the adult would always respond with, 'life's not fair!' Well, 'this is Russia' is just a geographically specific synonym. In fact, I might change the name of my blog in its honour.

Flurries of snow, and temperatures down to minus 3. And I'm still in England! Well, I guess it will help me to acclimatise to the Russian winter, where temperatures are (according to the papers) yoyoing from minus 25 to minus 5 and back again. I seem to remember that happening last year.

Good news: got my flight tickets booked, for Friday afternoon. So I'm all set. I tell you what, my visa had better be ready on Thursday morning!

Not quite all set actually: need to go and buy some Marmite for Kostya. He has never had the stuff (not available in Obninsk! Funnily enough!), and, well, who am I to deny him such an experience?

OK, I've just sent an e-mail out telling everyone about the blog. Sadly, there's nothing much interesting to read here yet. Sorry, everyone. Oh, I can tell you about the TEFL book I picked up in the Waterstones in Reading today - it was about maintaining classroom discipline and had a great title: 'Getting The Buggers To Behave'. Well, it appealed to my juvenile mind. Actually, that's probably why I got on so well with the kids last year - I am one myself.

Was shown a newspaper article today with pictures of New Year celebrations from around the world. One was of fireworks exploding over a packed Red Square - with a byline that was something like, 'thousands of Russians braved temperatures of minus 25 to celebrate the New Year'... minus 25?! That's a bit excessive! When I was out in Russia last year we had one brief cold snap where the temperature fell, for a few days, down to about minus 20 and that was cold enough for me. Although having said that, I did miss the worst of the weather last winter because it happened to fall during the month or so round Christmas when I was back in England. And I think it was a very mild winter as well, by Russian standards. Still, the weather has a week to warm up for me!

Still on the New Year theme, I asked Kostya today (via SMS) what his own celebrations were like. I am sure he won't mind me repeating his response, which I think really illuminates the Russian attitude to partying: '...extremely awesome. I nearly got into a car accident, got drunk like shit... felt almost everything one could feel during an entire life!'

OK, so I've just found out that the blog doesn't support cyrillic text - hence the garble in the first line of my previous post. That's a shame, but then, it's a free service so I can't complain too much. Happy New Year, by the way, in Russian but with Roman characters is: S Novym Godom (pronounced sort of like SNOWveem GODam). Hope that helps.

Well, happy new year! Or, 'ñ Íîâûì ãîäîì!' as the Russians possibly say. I had a text from my old Obninsk friend Dima Leshinski, wishing me a happy new year - at 9 in the morning on New Year's Eve, waking me up! He obviously didn't have much faith in his ability to type later in the evening. A also had an e-mail from Denis Sharshikoff, the school secretary from Dubravushka, which was unexpected but nice. I will have to reply.