I have a new student, a 14-year old boy called Alexey. He's studying at Advanced level, for the CAE exam. That's pretty impressive for a 14-year old, and more so as English is his third language after Russian and French (he's Russian but goes to a specialist French school).

So I have Alexey twice a week for individual lessons, an hour at a time. That's okay and makes a change from teaching groups. Plus I've never prepared anyone for the CAE exam before, so it's something new for me too.

But he's not the brightest spark. We were talking about suffixes, especially the suffix '-ish' you can add to make new words like 'thirtyish' or 'brownish'. I asked Alexey for some more examples. He thought for a minute before coming up with 'tunafish'.

So we went back to the beginning, and I explained the general concept in more detail. Once more I asked him for some more examples. This time he came up with 'tunafishish'...

THE THIRD WAY - POSTSCRIPT

I forgot to tell you anything about the club I went to for my birthday, being too busy relating the story of my friends' incarceration. In fact it was much like the places I used to frequent in Nottingham - small, dirty, seedy, unpopular. And that was just the clientele.

The DJ in this place, for the whole evening, played only David Bowie and obscure French pop, in rotation. Either he was being willful or he had only two CDs; I suspect probably the latter.

This place also did food - small Russian sandwiches (bread with salami). I'm only mentioning this because my friend Rich is a fat bloater and managed to eat 10 of them. Sorry, but this has to be written down for posterity.

My flatmate - the new one - got dragged off onto the dancefloor by a middle-aged woman, to boogie to Bowie and obscure French pop. My flatmate - the old one - got cornered in the, er, corner, by a group of much more attractive young Russian ladies. He stayed behind when the rest of us went off to rescue my Russian friends.

A brilliant recent example of Russian efficiency by my company.

Last year we had a slight problem with security: several teachers had personal possessions stolen from the staffroom at central school, a room used only by teachers. In short, there was a tea-leaf amongst us! So over the summer Language Link installed a bank of brand-new lockers along one wall, one for each teacher. Problem solved.

Two days after their installation, one teacher accidentally realised that her key could open not only her locker but also the one next to it. Hang on a minute - and the one next to that. And the one above it. In fact, it could open all of them. No, it gets better - every key could open every single locker! Now that's what I call security.

I went down to tell adminstration. "Oh yes," the administrator said, "we knew. We were just hoping that no-one would realise."

I have one great student this year, Sergei. He's only about 13, and studies at Intermediate level as the only boy in a group of girls. He has such an evil sense of humour. For example: we were revising transport vocabulary, and the question came up, 'What do you keep in the boot of a car?' My other students said the usual - 'a spare tyre, luggage...'. When they were finished, Sergei paused before answering, 'A body. Excellent.' Then rubbed his hands together.

Or another example: we were practicing 2nd conditionals, and I asked, 'What would you do if you were President of Russia?' Again, my other students came up with the textbook answers: 'Help the poor, build orphanages, stop AIDS, blah blah blah.' Sergei again was the last to answer. 'I'd go to war. I'd invade Finland. Excellent.'

THE THIRD WAY

I was my birthday last week. When we've gone out recently it has been as a massive group of teachers and interns, most of whom are Americans and (perhaps unsurprisingly) very loud, so for my birthday I decided I wanted to do something a little less... conspicous.

So only seven of us went out; first for some food - to the now famous pie place - and then to a club. The seven of us were myself, strange bearded flatmates past and present, two other teacher friends, and two Russian friends from Obninsk, Sasha and Uri. These last guys had got the train down especially and were staying at my flat that night.

Halfway through the evening, everything was going smoothly. Always a bad sign. We left the pie cafe and made our way to the metro station nearest the club. The club itself, I should tell you, was an alternative/rock club called 'The Third Way'. The place came highly recommended but only one of us had ever been there before and wasn't sure of the way. So, outside the metro, we asked a couple of likely-looking alternative types for directions. They were also going to the club so we followed them.

It was a little farther from the metro than we had expected, so pretty soon my two small-bladdered Russian friends had ducked into an alley to relieved themselves. My friend Rich stayed behind to wait for them, and the other four of us made our way to the club. We got to the club okay, and waited for the others to catch us up. There was no sign of them.

Five minutes passed, and we were starting to get a little concerned. Suddenly an out-of-breath Rich came puffing up the road.

"Your friends! They've been arrested!" he gasped.
"Bloody hell, not again! What for this time?"
"Pissing in an alleyway!"
"But everybody does that..."
"Not when there are two policemen standing six feet away..."
"So where are they now?" I asked. Every other time someone has been 'arrested', they have had to pay a bribe (sorry, fine) and then are let off.
"I don't know," puffed Rich. "They were taken off in a police van..."

Of course, it probably didn't help that my friends had Obninsk, not Moscow papers, and that one of them was originally from the Caucasus.

What could we do? My friends were staying at my flat, but didn't have a key. I wasn't sure they had my mobile number either. We could have gone back to the flat to wait for them, but then decided that they would either 1) be released, and make their way to the club, if they could find it, or (more likely) 2) be stuck in a cell overnight.

So we did what all self-respecting friends would do when their guests had been arrested. We went into the club.

And we did actually had a good, if slightly guilty, time, until about 4am when I got a call on my mobile.

"We've been released!"
"Great. Where are you?"
"Outside your flat. Where the hell are you?"
"Bugger... we'll see you in about an hour..."

To cut a long story short, Sasha and Uri had been taken to the police station, where they had had to pay a fine of 100R each, all they could afford. After some time, they had been released. Only they'd been released at a police station nowhere near where I live or where the club was, at 3am, with no money. Which was very considerate.

Another successful night out then. God knows what would have happened had we been conspicous.

Perhaps I should tell you a little about my new flatmate. As I've already said, he is a Welshman called Gareth. He also went to Nottingham Uni, the same as me. So far so good (apart from the Welsh bit).

Less promising, perhaps, are his Craig David-style beard and his musical sheep thong that he not only wears around the flat (!) but also takes to parties. In fact, he has a variety of thongs and novelty clothes generally. This is a man whose proudest possession is his 'Nobody Knows I'm a Lesbian' t-shirt. Second perhaps is his Watch Out Children: Maniac' t-shirt.

Also, he's not actually called Gareth but Andrew, mutch in the same way my previous flatmate called himself Anthony even though his name was Ryan. So a pattern is emerging.

VICTORY PARK

I went on a nice outing on Saturday, to Victory Park in the far west of Moscow. It's the place where a lot of the city's parades, celebrations and demonstrations are held. There's a parade ground, the obligatory military museum or two, and some park (unsurprisingly).

The metro station to Victory Park is brand new - it only opened this year - and it's good to see that the city is still being creative in the design of the metro stations. Victory Park metro has all the usual marble as well as two fantastically shoddy murals, one to celebrate Hitler's defeat and the other to celebrate Napoleon's. Even though I thought it was a draw. Never mind.

Anyway, the mural of Napoleon has to be seen - he's surrounded by his cronies, with cannon balls scattered at his feet, but the artist got the proportions wrong and it looks like he's enjoying a fun game of ten-pin bowling. It's even better than the statue of Pin-head Peter in St. Petersburg.

Sad fact. The metro station is the deepest in the world (it was built underneath wetland), and so it also has the longest escalator in the world.

Another great thing about Victory Park on a Saturday is that it is a traditional place for wedding parties to come to have their photo taken. Actually, I couldn't move for brides when I was there. Must have seen at least a hundred. Bizarrely, there was a man with a falcon who let brides take their pictures with the bird for a few roubles. There's one for the photo album - 'me in my wedding dress with a falcon on my arm in the middle of the park'.

OBO MNYE

In case you are interested, I passed the teaching course I took over the summer. I tried quite hard to recruit some of my fellow trainees for Language Link in Russia, but strangely enough, they didn't really seem that keen. I can't understand it, but they preferred to go and teach in sunny, safe places like Spain. Strange people.

I also have a new mobile phone, Russian stylee. Well, it's actually my old phone with a Russian sim card which should work out cheaper. My Russian friend had to buy it for me because - in order to buy a sim card - you need to show some official documentation that gives your address. And the only acceptable form of documentation is of course, a passport. Have a look in your passport - does it have your address in? No? Didn't think so.

The silver lining of this is that I can make a load of prank calls and my friend gets arrested! Sweet.

Anyway, I can't tell you my new mobile number here for security reasons but you should have had an e-mail about it. If not, well, I would recommend you send me an SMS but that's not really possible is it? Go and hassle my mum or something. Only kidding mum!

THE SON OF BLOG

Yes, I'm back in Russia again. I probably should have told you a week ago, but you know how it is. We've got no internet at the school at the moment - it was taken away when our director realised that 90% of our traffic was to either mingers.com or hotornot.com. I almost wish I hadn't introduced the other teachers to these sites now. But hopefully this situation is only temporary.

GARETH MARK 2

I have a new flatmate - a Welshman called Gareth. I don't know, I travel a whole continent to get away from one Gareth only to end up living with another one! Seriously, my mum suggested he change his name (my flatmate, not my brother) to avoid confusion. He was surprisingly amenible to this, until my mum volunteered 'Henry', an unfortunate choice (apart from the obvious) as it is the name of his much loved and recently departed pet dog!

Still, Gareth is working alongside me at Skhodnenskaya and is also working in Mitino - basically what I was doing last year. They originally wanted to put him in Khimki, where Patrick Ketchum got shot at and Rich was savaged by Alsatians, so I think things have worked out for the best.

I really should have said this three weeks ago. Sorry.

Yes, I'm back in England at the moment, after a safe and uneventful blah blah blah. I'll be returning to Russia some time in the second week of September, all being well with visas and flights and so on.

I probably won't write much on here during the summer, unless something really interesting happens. But then, this is England.

Old friends: feel free to get in touch with me if you want to. Usual address, phone number etc.


James

Also, if anyone wants a copy of my new poetry pamphlet, 'Together and Elsewhere', which is split 50:50 with an American poet called Adam Mahiques, then let me know. I'll stick one in the post for you.

OH NO! I'VE LOST MY VISA!!!

Only kidding...

Today I accompanied a sick friend of mine, another teacher, to the doctor here. Luckily we have private medical insurance as part of our contract but she's a bit doctor-phobic and has spent the past month denying she is ill, despite a hacking cough, feeling faint, temperatures, all that sort of stuff. Anyway, I finally got her to see the doctor only for us to be told that she has bronchitis!

So then it took me a good two more hours to persuade her to take some time off work.... added to that, I had to help her pick up her prescription, take her to physio, and stop her passing out on the metro after too many drugs. So I've been a right regular boy scout today. Well, I've got nothing else to do. Apart from spend time in the internet cafe, natch.

Only six more days to go before I'm back in England...

Just spent most of the past week in Obninsk, not doing much really, getting bitten by mosquitos and blood-sucking flies, drinking vodka, sleeping. So that was all very pleasant. Kostya is still working on his album in the recording studio - four songs nearly completed now.

Actually outside Kiev Station in Moscow, just before I left for Obninsk, I got jumped on by about twenty five gypsy women. Well, when I say 'jumped on', I mean that I started to run when I saw what was happening, as a couple of friends of mine have had things stolen in the past by groups of gypsies.

So if you can, picture me legging it about 200 yards down a bus rank in crowded central Moscow, being chased by a small army of head-scarved, floral-dress wearing h\gypsy ladies, all crying out to me in several languages! It was like something from Benny Hill. I managed to outrun them, probably the first time I have ever outrun anybody in my whole life.

CAMP

Still slacking off, not doing much, not earning much.

I was offered so work, though - at the dreaded GULAG, I mean summer camp. Worse still, it was a 'Lord of the Rings' themed summer camp - lots of poncing about in tights waving swords while trying to teach the third conditional. Not even Solzhenitsyn had to go through that. So I turned it down. I only have two weeks left here anyway.

Helpfully, though, I did volunteer my flatmate for the camp. I think the Black Maria is coming for him any time now. Goodbye Anthony, have fun...

I might escape to Obninsk in the next day or two. There's rumour going round of a 'Harry Potter' themed gulag and I want to get as far away as possible as quickly as possible.

Incidentally, talking of Obninsk. The girl who has been sent to the summer camp at Dubravushka has now decided that she hates it so much she is going to commute from Moscow every day! That's 100km there, another 100km back, on the pootling little electric train.

*

In the teachers' room today, under duress, I took some stupid personality test on a website called Thespark.com which told me that I was 34 per cent gay. I wouldn't mind but this makes me officially the gayest man in Language Link (including one staff member who is actually gay). The second test, just to add insult to injury, told me I was a woman.

I have, however, grown back my beard, which is both heterosexual and very masculine. It is not as ginger as last time. This is not saying much.

IT'S A HARD LIFE

I'm not really working at the moment, as all my regular classes have finished and Language Link haven't found anything else to give me yet. I'm sure they will. But then, I only have three more weeks until I fly back to England.

I do have a few private lessons which are tiding me over, keeping me busy. Thirty dollars an hour, that's not too shoddy. Sorry, I'm not boasting, I was just very surprised. I was thinking of asking for fifteen... I should set up business on my own really... well, I would probably need Russian citizenship... well, I guess I have to find a wife...

The weather here is quite poor. It's not cold, but it is rather wet. I think it's nicer in England at the moment. I don't know where the sun has got to this summer.

THERE IS NO ESCAPE

I'm coming back to Russia next year, by the way. I have signed a new contract for the next academic year starting in September. I'll be based solely in Schodnenskaya, so no more trips up to the wind tunnel that is Mitino.

Getting a contract involved me meeting the head honcho, our number one, the great leader, for the very first time... he's a hyperactive, sarcastic Jewish American, a sort of portly Quentin Tarantino figure, if you can imagine that. He said I looked Scottish.

Incidentally, a girl serving in a kiosk started speaking to me in French when she heard my foreign accent! That's a lot better than being mistaken for a German or an American...

Other plans. I'm taking a CELTA course over the summer in London, so I'll be a proper fully-qualified teacher. Well, it'll keep me out of trouble while I'm home anyway....

SUITS YOU

The latest development in Russian sartorial style: handbags for men.

Seriously. Every metro carriage seems to be filled with little leather-bag wielding mincers, straps strung jauntily over one shoulder. They go well with the pointy shoes though. And the denim waistcoats.

NIKITA ANECDOTE

I remembered an old anecdote about my 8-year-old student, Nikita, that is worth recording. If you recall, this is the student who brought a knife to class, as well as a scooter, lazer pens, and so on...

We had been studying 'The Village' - I had a big picture of a village and we were trying to name the buildings:

Nikita: (Pointing) What's this?
James: It's a church.
Nikita: (Pointing) What's this?
James: Er, it's a graveyard.
Nikita: (Pointing) What's this?
James: It's a grave.

Ten minutes passed, and the group was in the middle of another activity - some grammar exercises I think. Suddenly Nikita starts intoning, in a very sinister Shining-type voice: "One grave... eleven graves.... fifty four graves..." He went up and up and up. Pretty soon he had reached a total of around nine hundred graves. Well, that freaked me out, I can tell you.

Everyone here is talking about the stupid American who was due to start working here at Language Link last week. He flew out to Moscow from the States only to be sent straight back home again at the airport - because he hadn't bothered getting a visa!

All he had was a plane ticket, as, and I quote, 'it's still Europe isn't it.' Now he is demanding that Language Link reimburse him for the money he wasted. Personally I don't think he'll get a cent.

*

More interestingly, a couple of Language Link employees showed up in the staff room at the central school the other day - having come to Moscow straight from finishing their contracts teaching engineers in a Siberian mine! That sounds like an interesting thing to do. And my contract is nearly up for renegotiation....

Don't worry, mum! I'm only joking.

But I've heard Belarus is nice.

Well, we have hot water in the flat again.

Sadly the weather has gone manky - the temperature for Moscow today is 5 - 8C. Of course, the heating is off for the summer in our block so it's freezing at night. Wish I hadn't taken all the insulation of the windows now.

I'm on probably my last week of teaching in Mitino now. I still don't know what I'll be doing after that. Probably not summer camp, as we have too many staff finishing regular teaching and not enough places at camp for them all. Well, that's good as I'd rather stick around in Moscow.

My friend Jamie has been sent to camp though - to Obninsk for two weeks! I gave her the lowdown before she went.