Russian month announced

Here I am again and I’ve got an announcement to make

Since I’ve got nothing to do at the moment and haven’t told you yet about how I spent these winter holidays at home in Russia, and, besides, I particularly feel like there’s a lot of things you’re not aware of and I could tell you about, I hereby announce the Russian Month, or the Month of Russia, or the Russian Marathon, or the Orange Jam Penguin, or whatever you prefer. And that means that in the next month I will try to cover as many realms of history, culture, people, and modern life of Russia, which is my native country, as it will be possible. Continue reading

an end-of-the-year news update

hello.

Sorry for not writing much lately (or ever, actually). December was quite a difficult month for me, I think: two weeks of not-really-painstaking preparing for the exams, a week of pathetic failing the exams, half a week of getting home (which is a rather small flat in a rather small town in the veryvery North of a rather big Russia – the biggest one, to be fair), five days of quite boring being here and four days left. Continue reading

Vorkuta: 71 years of snow and coal

Today, seventy-one years ago, Vorkuta was officially granted with a town status. “Seventy-one? Seventy freaking one? And people who live there still dare to call themselves humans? I mean, really?” I hear you say. Yes. Exactly. Seventy-one year – and, maybe, a few hours – ago my hometown was officially granted with a town status, you hear me answer quite calmly. You should’ve seen what a great anniversal festive circus there was last year, when “We’re just three decades far from a century! Hooray!” issue was brought up. Continue reading

my so-called routine, part 1 (out of the total of 1 parts, maybe)


hey, hey
, we’re the monkeys and all that

i haven’t written anything worth in here for a while, and here finally comes a new something. i’ve started this almost a month ago, so i’m turning into some awfully lazy bum, yes.

To be honest, I somehow was sure that, as long as I leave the country (which is Russia, if you’re not very aware of my life, which is fine), everything would just completely change. That, as one young Alice, I would step into a completely different world, full of creatures, actions, and rules impossible to imagine. You know, people riding sewing machines to get to the Moon, and then going back to the Earth by just jumping very-very high (everyone knows that you can jump higher on the Moon than on the Earth because of the gravity and all these sci-stuff), and, during the whole process Moon singing his wonderful song about “Neil Armstrong walking on my face…” with his retarded voice of a chalked-faced idiot. Something like that. But I am still made of flesh and blood and breathing oxygen and laughing at stupid jokes no one else ever understands. There are still plenty of chavs and just not-good people in the world, and a part of them is still somewhere around me, and the cancer cure still isn’t invented. So, if there’s such thing as half-, or even quarter-frustration, than that’s exactly what I am experiencing here at the moment. Continue reading

Quote

Vladimir Nabokov’s definition of the Russian word “toska”.

Toska – noun /ˈtō-skə/ – Russian word roughly translated as sadness, melancholia, lugubriousness.

No single word in English renders all the shades of toska. At its deepest and most painful, it is a sensation of great spiritual anguish, often without any specific cause. At less morbid levels it is a dull ache of the soul, a longing with nothing to long for, a sick pining, a vague restlessness, mental throes, yearning. In particular cases it may be the desire for somebody of something specific, nostalgia, love-sickness. At the lowest level it grades into ennui, boredom.


yes, that’s exactly what my native language needs to be remembered for. that’s why we are all proud of our language, country, political state and everything. that’s why all Russians are so patriotic. definitely.

vodka, balalaika, bears and communism. and lots of toska.