Shhh it's a secret!!

Yesterday a little 3rd grade boy with spiked hair and glasses hopped down the stairs to find me in the administrators office at school, and triumphantly stated "I know you secret!!"

Some quick background- this boy is one of the kids who heard me speaking Russian with Dasha (the school secretary) a week ago and proceeded to stare dumbfounded at his friend, leading me to stop in my tracks and motion for Dasha to come closer so I could whisper.  It was clear he had overheard us, however.  

During class yesterday he occasionally shouted out his comments in Russian, and I would quickly remind him that I couldn't understand, then move on.  It was later that day that he cornered me in the office- all 4 feet of this 8 year old boy- and told me again "I know you secret!"  I played dumb, and said "What do you mean, you know my secret?  What secrets do I have?" and told his friend who had accompanied him to go outside before whispering to me:

 "You perfectly speaking Russian!"  

My first inclination was to deny it- which I quickly realized was silly, as he had heard me.  I then compromised and said (truthfully) "Well, I speak a little..."  

He responded "No, I hear you!  You speak perfectly!"  He was beaming from ear to ear with sneaky glee. 

I opened my mouth again to set the record straight, but then slowly changed my mind and smiled.  So what?  One 3rd grade boy out there thinks that I speak perfect Russian.  I have no opportunity to disprove him, and you know what?  I'm not going to lie, it kind of makes me feel good.  So instead I motioned for him to come closer and whispered "Ok, you know my secret...but let's keep it a secret, just between us, alright?"  He smiled a little bucktoothed smile and nodded, before skipping out of the office and into the heavily-decorated, christmas-themed hallway.  

Moral of the story: it's nice to know that someone out there is convinced of my perfect language capabilities :)

The Wild Beasts of Moscow (aka Ляля, the wondercat)

Interestingly enough, the animals I've come into contact with here have been some of the most pampered, fully domesticated creatures I've ever met.

 Take for example, Chester- the happy, wriggly bilingual ball of fur that resides with Sasha and co. (stepfamily!).   He's a big friendly mush who would probably think the world was ending if his late-afternoon dinner did not arrive on time.

Every dog I've seen on the street (with the exception of the subway-riding "feral" dogs) is usually dressed to the nines, in more stylish and weather-appropriate clothing than anything I own.  Seriously, even the dogs are more dolled up than me.  

To be fair, the school I work at is located in a fairly posh neighborhood, but honestly- even the pigeons look obese and happy (a strange contrast with the usually delicate, waifishly-thin Moscow ladies I've seen.  I feel like the solution to this strange contrast is somewhere in the problem...)

Anyway, my new best-furry-friend is an incredibly soft, beautiful cat named Ляля (Lya-lya).  He belongs to Tamara's daughter, Katya, and like many pets I've had at some point or another he is perfectly content with his mix-gendered name.  

Here is a picture of Ляля on his special washing machine perch:

Warmest spot in the house.

Sweet kitty lovin'

Ляля's favorite place is in the warmth of the bathroom, where he usually has the occupant's full attention.  He has even perfected the "why have you FORSAKEN me??" look that comes when he realizes that he has missed showertime.  Usually he just sits on his washing machine throne, but sometimes he strolls around his "kingdom" exploring the toiletries, and he once almost jumped into the shower with me in hopes of good head-scratching.  

Unfortunately, for all of his sweetness and almost stalker-like devotion, Ляля is not exactly the brightest crayon in the box.  For example, Tamara calls him the "$3000 cat" due to the fact that he ate a plastic toy which then had to be surgically removed.  And no, not just once- three times.  

Ляля also has a kissing problem.  Literally.  He wants to kiss everything.  During showertime he will kiss the mirror, the faucet, and once tried to kiss my toothbrush.  The other day he was, well, what can only be described as "making out" with a plastic bag.  Like I said- Lyalya is just a "few fries short of a happy meal," ifyouknowwhatI'msaying- but still one of the most lovable little fellows I've met.

you know you're a regular when...

every time i enter starbucks, the woman at the cash register says something like "Ah, Шарлотта!  Что ты хочешь сегодня?" (Ah, Charlotte!  What do you want today?) or "Снова, Шарлотта?" ("again, Charlotte?"- usually on the second cup of coffee...).

i usually go because it's right next to the metro station closest to the school where i teach, and it's a nice, quiet place to get work done while spreading a $5 cappuccino over the course of three hours.  it's pretty much my 3-times-a-week splurge on myself (and a perfect respite from the -20 degree weather-with-windchill that we've been having).
oftentimes i see the ballerinas from the Bolshoi Academy taking breaks from their rigorous dance schedules to come by for a cup (the school is literally 2 blocks away), so it's a pretty interesting mix of people.

plus the coffee has actually been pretty good!  and that's key.
in the very thoughtfully, carefully chosen words of Natalia (Tamara's 7 year old daughter): "I guess coffee is relaxing...it's like being in a hot tub...but you don't get wet."  i love it.

but charLOHtah, you don't speak russian!

One of the funnier stories since I've gotten here took place just the other day when I was teaching a 5th grade class (I teach one guest class per week in the 3rd, 4th, 5th, 7th, and 8th grades).

The 3rd-5th grade classes have been told that I don't speak ANY Russian, so that they won't even be tempted to use Russian in the classroom (as a big believer in immersion studies, I'm all for this).  Every time they ask me a question or clarify something using Russian I tell them "I'm sorry, I don't understand Russian.  You're going to have to tell me in English!"- no matter how tempted I might be to take the easy way and address their concern head on.

So the other day we were going over vocabulary from a reading I brought in on "Street Art", and we came upon the word "energetic."  Without thinking it through, I said to the class "energetic- it sounds just like the russian word, энергичный, right?"  

Immediately one of the children called out with clear conviction, as if to let me down kindly: "but charLOHtah, you don't SPEAK Russian."  I caught myself and without a beat said "you're right I don't, sorry" and the lesson went on as if nothing had happened (except for my quickly stifled laughter).

It's getting harder and harder to keep up the charade though, as half of the teachers in the lower school communicate with me in Russian (two 3rd graders overheard a conversation I was having with the school secretary today, and they stopped dead in their tracks and stared wide-eyed at each other.  not sure how to smooth THAT one over...)

In other news I've recently made friends with the other American girl around my age who is teaching at the school.  We spent time together last weekend, and went to TGIF (oh yes, they have TGIF in Moscow) along with her housemate Jeffrey- also a new friend (hooray for new friends!).  Anyway, I've spent a bunch of time with the two of them and am having a lot of fun.  Also they are both from Portland and love adventures and traveling too.

Margarita and winking action.

Jen and I

Still on the hunt for an apartment, so if you know anyone living in Moscow, preferably in the southwestern region, and preferably Russian speaking, please let me know!  Although I suppose beggars can't be choosers.  Tamara and her family have been incredibly kind and welcoming, but I'd hate to have to impose on them for too much longer. 

In other news, moscow is freezing and I am truly experiencing a new kind of cold.  Oh boy I need to find some long johns (and/or a full body parka?)

Adventures in housing (aka do you know anyone looking for a flatmate in moscow?)

Sooo it seems that my life here is continuing to change in unexpected ways.

Here is a brief update of my last couple of weeks here in Moskva:

First I was living with a family (SITUATION #1)
Pros:
-Totally loved Sasha and Artyom, the two children
-Located next to a pretty park
-Outside of the city, so dark and quiet at night
-Really liked Misha, the family driver, and we got along super well (yah family driver, these guys are loaded)

Cons:
-Mom thought of me as the kid's tutor and treated me as she would "hired help" (did not talk to me, rarely made eye contact, vaguely incapable of smiling except towards the end when she would do this painful wince-face that was, I think, smiling)
-Far from school/the center of the city
-I did not have a key...or furniture for that matter (just a mattress on the floor)
-I really, really, really wanted to work on my Russian- but wasn't supposed to be speaking it

SO moral of the story, I ended up leaving under friendly circumstances, I guess- the mom realized I was really busy and got wind of my work schedule and differing expectations, so she told me about an apartment that a friend of a friend was renting out for 10,000 rubles (sweet deal!) right across from the highschool.  Sweet deal, right?...?  So I was given a week to try out the apartment without paying and to decide by the end whether or not I wanted to live there.

SITUATION #2:
Pros:
-Living with an older, babushka type who taught me a lot about the traditional cultural wisdom of Soviet Russia
-Across from the school!!
-Evgenya (babushka/хозяйка) fed me and treated me more or less like a племяница or внучка or something (niece or granddaughter), which was sweet
-Authentic soviet russian apartment- communal bathroom, one working sink in the whole apt (with 3 people), kitchen in disrepair, refrigerator: space between the kitchen window and the screen, etc., super old furnishings

Cons:
-The story below (which occurred 5 days after moving in to test the waters):
I went out late thursday night with a friend and came back tipsy (it had been a long and stressful week and I didn't have classes until 2pm the next day, ok?)
The door was locked from the inside in a way that I could not open with my key (??? confusing).  So she got up to let me in.  I felt really bad about it and planned on apologizing the next day.
When I got home the next day from school, she immediately called me a drunk, continually insulted my upbringing and family, gave me a 10pm curfew, called me "uneducated" as well as some other less-than-pleasant names, told me I was "disordered in the head" and threatened to hit me next time I came back after 10pm.  Then she tried to guilt me into living at the apartment.

...SO...yeah.
I called Tamara (the absolutely wonderful woman who got me the job at the elementary school and pretty much gives me support 24/7) and she offered to pick me up that night, saying "just get out of there."  I left the next morning, after Evgenya had gone to work, and left on note on the table with the money I would have paid for the week.

So basically life has been a bit of an adventure.  There is a sort of natural wondering and guilt lodged in the fact that I have stayed at two places then left (like...uh oh it has to be my fault), but I feel much better now.  Tamara has SO kindly given me the chance to stay at her house with her family until I find a good place to stay (this time I check it out BEFORE staying over).  I hope I can find something soon, but meanwhile I am wildly content to be here.  Tamara is so kind, and her daughters have been so lovely to me.  The apartment is cozy and modern and Tamara has offered a situation where I can both be independent, and incredibly supported and comfortable.  Bonus point: they have two ADORABLE kitties.

Her older daughter Katya (9 years old, I think) in particular has been incredibly sweet.  Just tonight she said to me "I really like you!" and "I know I haven't known you for very long, but I feel like you're my older sister!"  I babysat the girls and we made pasta and watched disney channel, and katya even made me a "Welcome Charlotte!" card.  It was exactly the kind of night that I needed.

Sorry for the long and rambling story, if you read this far then HOORAY!  Tell me and I'll make you cookies next time I see you.

Sorry for the lack of pictures- I'm too lazy to upload from my useless iphone, but I will do so soon!

...

Drinking port and watching twilight in Russian ("Сумерки"):

 

Classiest moment of MY LIFE.

p.s. the biggest photo is meant to represent Russia, and does so surprisingly well.

Холодец...never again

Just tried this dish:

A word to the wise:

If it looks like meat in jello, it moves (UGH) like meat in jello, and people tell you "It's meat in jello"...

It's probably going to taste like meat in jello.

If I try to think of two foods that should NEVER EVER be prepared together, "meat and jello" is right up at the top of my list.  

I like to say that I'd try most things.  But now I feel like gagging/dying a little.

Xolodetz just tied with "headcheese" at the top of my list of foods never to ever eat again ever.  

Moral of the story:

JUST SAY NO

TO MEAT AND JELLO

(catchy right?)