Once Upon a Time . . .

I didn’t speak Russian.

Now check this out.

(Translation will be posted in the new year )).

Reality, Identity, and Postmodernity: Spring 2009

Действителность, Личность, и Постсовременность: Весна 2009

Типа Урок: Спецкурс: Англиский Язык

Кредит: Факультатив

Игструктор: Тэйлор Чейс

8916 074 86 50

taylor.lynn.chase@gmail.com

Даты: 10 Фев – 30 Апр

Встречи: Вторник, Четверг 17:30 – 19:00

(Тедемосты TBA)

Место: Россиский Государственный Гуманитарный Университет

Кор. 5, ауд 203 (Кафедра Англиского Языка)

Аудиторная Работа: 42

Самостоятельная Работа.: 60

Тема: Англиский язык, Международное Понимание, Современная Культура

Конспект:

Этот курс: пилотный выпуск программы международного проекта называется “World Classroom Project” (Мировой Учебный Проект). Через телемости и программы связи интернета, студенты РГГУ принимают участие в уроках со студентами Ьакнелл Университета в США. Цель этого курса: дать русским и американским студентам критическое и международное понимание одный из самых важных культурных сил наши эпохи: постмодернизма. Он так же дает им возможность энать по опыту академическое исследование и обсуждение в компание международных коллег.

“Децствительность, Личность, и Постсовременность ” – “Reality, Identity, and Postmodernity” – это курс проводится каждый год Профессором Джоном Хайнтером, в программе Сравнителне Гуманитарные Науки в Бакнелл. Это – интердисиплинарное исследование, в котором студенты изучают теорию, общественные явления, и культурные феномены связенни с “состоянием постмодерна”.

В РГГУ, “Действительность, Личность, и Постсовременность” будет вести Тэйлор Чайс, магистр и бывшая студентка Профессора Хайнтера. Студенты в спецкурсе будут читать те же тексты, что и будут читпть американские студентов. Студенты будут читать на русском (чтобы смысл текстов были понятен) и на английском (чтобы познакомиться с английским). Обсуждения на уроке будут вестись на английском. Они будут касаться понимания идей постмодернизма и языка этого понимания, чтобы подготовить студентов обсуждений с американскими коллегами.

Студенты общаются и соотрудничают с американскими студентами через блог, обмен короткых видео, и не меньше чем три телемоста. В конце семестра, они участвуют конференции молодых ученных Постмодернизма, в которых они представляют короткие доклады на англиском для коллег.

And so this was Christmas . . .

Christmas Party with my class

Like I’ve said, Christmas isn’t celebrated as a holiday in Russia on December 25.  It’s not even one of those holidays that people know about, but work through anyway.  In Russia this year, December 25 was also known as Thursday.

So it felt a bit wierd to be getting up early, running my 10K at the gym, and then running home to change and get ready to teach.   But I was up for the event.  It was to be my last class period with the 6th group of the 3rd year of Economics students at RSUH, and I was determined to make it a good one.

We’d already planned to have a Christmas party for that day, and I was prepared with juice and sweets, and what, in my opinion, was a kick-ass lesson plan:

We started the class with my asking them if they knew what holiday it was today.  Naturally, they all responded, “Christmas!”  And I said, “No, today is the fifth day of Hannukah!!”  I then passed around a handout and proceeded to give a mini-lesson on the Hannukah story, followed by a lighting of my “menorah” (see post below) and a reciting of the Hannukah prayer.   Hey, I thought, as long as we’re bringing religion into our classroom, I’m bringing in as many religions as possible.

I knew, however, that the December 25 Christmas thing was something that really excited them.  So as we broke open the snacks, I handed around the lyrics to a couple of our traditional Christmas songs.  They struggled with the words to “The Christians and the Pagans” by Dar Williams (but thank you Captain Ty, for making that magic moment possible).  On the other hand, they really dug John Lennon’s “Happy Christmas”.  We must have sang that song fifteen times.

And as I looked from one face to another of these young Russian women, singing at the top of their lungs for a happy Christmas for black and for white, and a promise to stop all the fight, I thought of that generation to whom John Lennon as a singer belongs.  Would they have ever dreamed in their youth that one day, their children would go to the land of the US’s largest enemy, and sing in unison with that country’s people a song for peace?

For those of you who thought the world would never change, and for those of you who still think it won’t, the girls of RSUH and I would simply like to wish you a very merry Christmas.

And a Happy New Year.

Let’s hope it’s a good one.

Without any fear.

Reasons i will never live in Russia # . . .

I forgot what number we were up to.

Yesterday, at the end of teaching my final English class, I had my first encounter with the Russian grading system. It made me physically ill.

Zachyot = or Irina Igrievna handing out judgement

My class itself had been a lot of fun – I was almost ready to consider making teaching a regular Christmas-Day activity. Our festivities were to continue during the second half of my students English class when a different professor, Irina Irgrievna, normally took over.

When I.I. came into the room, we serenaded her with a round of John Lennon, and she was pleasant enough to share her pleasure. Then she sat down, and the students sat down. The room was quiet, and i was unsure what was about to happen, but then I learned:

Засчет. Pronounced “Zashyot”. Grades were about to be handed out.

In the United States, grades are a very private thing. You get a report card in the mail, you check your student number online, you have a private meeting with a teacher. You do NOT sit in a group of your peers and have the teacher hand down your sentence. Out loud. In front of everyone. With no place for questions.

But that’s how it works here. Right in the middle of a Christmas party, none the less.

To make matters worse, II decided that, since I had taught the group 2 days a week, I should be the one to read the grades out loud. Which, after several rounds of questioning, to make sure I understood her correctly, I had no choice but to do.

The whole process literally made me sick to my stomach – I had to excuse myself from the room at the end of it and get some air. And I actually broke down in tears as class let out.

I was so taken aback by the whole thing, but the worst was how great my students were about it. They hugged me, they thanked me for a great semester. For them, it was just another grade, just another class, just another day in the life of.

Yesterday my Christmas spriit was soured by my absolute revulsion for the Russian education system. Complain as we will, I am so grateful for the education we receive in our country. And I am so angry at the one here. My girls deserve so much better than that.

My Humble Menorah

On the third night of Hannukah . . .

Tea lights, a window sill, and a deck of Russian verb flashcards. It does the trick

Russian New Year

The Russians don’t celebrate Western Christmas – December 25 is actually a work day.  Instead, the main winter celebration is New Year which, as you all know, falls on January 1.

Interestingly enough though, the Russians treat celebrate New Year a lot like how we secularly celebrate Christmas.  Holiday parties tend to fall on any date in the last three weeks of December.  People get together, they eat a lot of food, they look back on the good times of the year, and take a moment to be grateful to be among each other.

But they also celebrate New Years in a very different way too.  Take the photos below – after teaching at the university in Zhukovsky, Julia and her professors invited me to the annual New Year’s party.  The spectacle that followed reminded me more of a combination of Halloween, St. Patrick’s Day (Irish Dancers, anyone?), Mardi Gras, and Saturday night at a discotheque, all backgrounded by a Christmas tree and a banner that read “C Novim Godim!” (Happy New Year!).

I wasn’t sure what to make of the whole scene.  But it wasn’t my job to judge – it was my job to jump in.

New Year’s Dance Pary

Yulia with Taylor in traditional Russian wear

New Years Irish Step Dancers

Halloween?? Dance

Water

In my various experiences as a foreign student,  I’ve gone through phases of adjustment.  When I first started going abroad, I thought it was absolutely important for me to change my mindset and believe my host culture was the best in the world.  At other times, I’ve found it to be the most ridiculous thing this world has ever seen.

Returning overseas this time around has allowed me to learn how to let in the good things that Russia has to offer, and keep out the bad.  And I’ve also grown comfortable with making my way around cultural tendencies that I will never change.

Like not drinking water, for example.  Russia is a cold place, and there is a strong cultural emphasis on drinking tea.   Tea accompanies every meal, and every snack in between meals, and any entrance into any office.   But water?  That’s rare.  Only in small quantities does plain pure water pass through the lips of the people in this country.  In some situations – like when you’re sick – it’s actually looked at as a dangerous thing.  I’ve known laid-up foreign students who had to beg their host families to bring them a bottle of water to wet their parched lips.

Now, I like to think I’m laid-back and open enough to adapt to certain tendencies of strange lands.  But I am also, at heart, and athletic water-guzzler from the state of Colorado.  Not drinking water is not something I will ever get used to.  And I’m not even gonna try.  I do whatever it takes to stay hydrated.  I fill up on filtered water from the cooler at the gym.  I sneak gigantic plastic liters in my bag whenever I’m invited as a guest to someone’s house.

You learn a lot about yourself when you travel to a foreign country.  And you also make a lot of decisions about who you want to be.

So this year I have decided that I am Taylor Chase, and I am thirsty, and I want something to drink.  And I will drink it.

I have also decided that I am Taylor Chase, and yes, I run everyday, and have no qualms about moving down the crowded pollution-choked city streets in my now-lime-green Nikes and teal running gear.

And furthermore I am Taylor Chase, I am 25 years old, and no, I don’t feel any pressure to immediately get married and have a baby.

Yes, I am Taylor Chase, and no, I’m not just going to look unseeing past the misery that surrounds me on the street.

Not to mention I am Taylor Chase, and I have nothing against smiling for absolutely no reason.  And I think I will.

Take that, Russia.

Happy new year.

Midori

Taylor and Midori, her Japanese student

This year has made me very grateful that I speak English as my first language. It seems that everyone in this world who doesn’t have a good grasp on the language is doing everything they can to get it.

So in addition to studying, and teaching at the university, and working on the World Classroom project, I’ve been working with a few students one-on-one as well. Students like Midori, a Japanese girl working in Moscow as a translator. Her Russian is great, and her Japanese is not bad. And now her English is full of words like “cool” and “awesome”.

Just trying to spread the Taylor influence as I can.

The Suitcase

My friends in Russia have been hearing stories for months about this suitcase now. See, before I left the United States, I knew I would be rendez-vousing with the Donnallys in December.  As they are highly experienced in dealing with countries where you can’t receive anything by mail, they offered to bring me a big suitcase of whatever I needed on the trip. Great, I thought.  I won’t have to worry about packing extra toiletries, or another pair or running shoes, or my winter clothes.  This will save me some room for the flight over.

And indeed, all was good, and it was really only towards the end of November that I started really thinking about the things I needed from home, and waiting in anticipation for my bag.  As I packed in preparation for the trip, I restricted myself to a small suitcase loaded with Christmas presents.  I’ve got a whole suitcase coming to me, I thought.  No need to burden myself with extra.

Good thing I tossed in a few pairs of underwear.

Unfortunately, in an effort to sneak some Christmas presents in the bag (thanks), Mr. Chase decided that there were some superflous things in the suitcase that Taylor wouldn’t need.  He proceeded to toss out her toiletries, her running shoes, her long underwear, her jeans, her sweaters, her skirts and nice attire for the ballet and opera in Berlin.

This resulted in a bit of a surprise when Taylor opened her bag in Berlin last Thursday night and proceeded to find out that all the clothes she had been expecting (including pajamas) were, well, not there.

The story could have ended poorly, but it didn’t.  The Chase parentals came through with the most important items – Taylors books, her postmodernism notes, her back issues of The Atlantic, made it in safe and sound (By the way, when did they change The Atlantic’s format?).

As for clothes, well, Taylor was in Berlin with Katy, Jack, and Visa.  Replacing what was lost was not a problem ).

“Polar” Opposites

Moscow is a city unlike any other, and that was made apparent by the Berlin trip. While both very cold, these cities are so very, and pleasantly, different.

From the moment I stepped on my Air Berlin flight, I knew I was going to a land unlike Russia. The stewardess smiled, greeted me, looked me in the eyes, and offered me a mint. The experience only got better from there. As those of you who know me know, I consider bike transportation to be evidence of a highly evolved society. Berliners are bikers – they bike everywhere, even at night in December. They can do this because there are bike lanes specifically built for this purpose, and the drivers stay in their lanes when guiding their vehicles down the street.

Berlin is a big city, but it doesn’t have that around-the-clock megalopolis thing going on that Moscow does. Cars stop for you when you want to cross the street. Stores close at night, and on Sunday too (I couldn’t go to the grocery store to buy Nutella). And German people don’t take themselves so seriously on the city streets. You can dress casual, even wear tennis shoes (or, in Katy’s case, an orange hi-lighter ski parka )) and be perfectly fine.

This is all supplemented by some of the most amazing museums and cultural manifestations in the world. You walk into the Pergamonmuseum and come face-to-face with the Pergammon Altar (I had to ask if it was real). At the Gemaldegalerie I was so overwhelmed by Carvaggios and Rembrandts that I was lucky that before we left Professor Jack asked me what I thought of the Botticellis (What Bottecellis?). This all, in conjunction with great ballet and opera. And incredibly good looking German guys everywhere.

Berlin. I like this town.

I like Moscow too, and as I roll into town late on Monday night I am happy to be back. But this city has a very strong energy about it, almost a chaos. And a trip to Berlin was a reminder of the way things could be.

Weekend in Berlin

Thursday, December 11 marked my three-month point in Moscow, and I celebrated the occasion by getting the hell out. The destination? Berlin, and a reunion with Katy and Jack, the first Denver folks I’ve seen in months.

You know you’re starting to suffer from a Moscow December when, while preparing your suitcase for your German winter travels, you pack your sunglasses. Well, there was no sun on this trip, but the brightness of the German people, the luster of the fantastic city, and the warmth, happiness, and vitality I received from spending time with friends were more than enough to make up for it. It just felt warmer in Berlin.

Katy, Jack and I spent the weekend going from museums to the ballet to restaurants to shopping malls (because one Mr. Chase, in preparing a suitcase to deliver to his daughter, didn’t think she’d need her winter clothes in Moscow in January). Every moment (except for two phone calls) was saturated with laughs, good times, and memories that will keep me going on into the dark days ahead.

Jewish Museum in Berlin

Pergamon Alter at Pergamon Museum

Leading up to the Ishtar Gate at Pergamon Museum

Katy, Jack, and Taylor at Brandenburg Gate

Katy, Jack, and a Chocolate Santa

Taylor, Katy, and a Mini-Coop