Posts tagged with "summer in russia"

What is «лето» [summer] without spending some time «на пляже» [at a beach]? Have you done it yet? If not, then what are you waiting for; the summer (in the Northern Hemisphere) is almost over. As the saying goes, «ноги в руки и вперёд!» [get to it!] Because next thing you know, it will be «зима катит в глаза» [winter sweeps in] (if you know where this line is from, leave a comment).

I am happy to report that for once «я последовала своему собственному совету» [I took my own advice] and went to the beach for a few days, hence my «отсутствие» [absence] from the blog last week. So this is going to be another «о личном» [personal] post. But I promise lots of vocabulary.

While the length of Russia’s coastline is nearly twice the length of its land boundaries, much of it lays «за полярным кругом» [above Arctic Circle]. Growing up, «поездка на пляж» [a beach trip] meant a quick ride across Volga on «паром» [a ferry] or «ракета» [Raketa]. «Ракета» wasn’t exactly a real rocket, but a type of a «судно на подводных крыльях» [hydrofoil boat].

«Поездка на море» [A trip to the sea] was a luxury for most since it was difficult to obtain «путевка в санаторий» [a voucher for a stay at a resort]. But once, when I was little, we did go «на Чёрное море» [to the Black Sea] albeit as «дикари» [lit. savages]. The phrase «отдых дикарём» really means a DIY sort of vacation booked without a travel agent.

Ah, «счастливое детство» [happy childhood], when travelling 900 miles nonstop in «Запорожец» [Zaporozhets, a cheap Soviet subcompact car with a 27hp engine] seemed fun and warm Pepsi, bought at a market in «Сухуми» [Sukhumi, nowadays the capital of the Abkhazia region], tasted delicious…

But enough reminiscing. So what do you do when you go on a sea-side vacation? Do you sleep «до полудня» [until noon] or do you get up early to watch «восход солнца» [sunrise]? What do you prefer – «прогулки по пляжу» [walks on the beach] or «лежать и загорать» [laying down and sunning yourself]? Are you a fan of «галечный пляж» [shingle beach] or «песчаный пляж» [sandy beach]?

I guess when you are «отдыхаете на море» [on a seaside vacation], it’s too easy to fall into a routine of «утром – пляж, а вечером – клуб» [beach in the morning, club in the evening], unless you have young kids, in which case it becomes «утром – пляж, днем – ответы на вопрос «когда снова на пляж», вечером – снова пляж» [beach in the morning, answering “when are we going to the beach again” question in the afternoon, beach again in the evening]. But this is «скучно и однообразно» [boring and monotonous].

Fortunately, most beaches, even the river and lake ones, offer some exciting diversions – «поездки на гидроциклах» [jet skiing], «сноркелинг» [snorkeling], «парасейлинг» [parasail], not to mention «рыбалка» [fishing].

Besides, there’s always an option of «осмотр местных достопримечательностей» [touring local places of interest]. On my last trip I did just that since there was «маяк» [a lighthouse] nearby and a beautiful wetlands «заповедник» [nature preserve].

Finally, no trip to a beach (or anywhere else for that matter) is complete without some «сувениры» [souvenirs] or «цацки» [knickknacks also known as tchotchke]. In case you’re wondering, it’s the “tchotchke” that was borrowed from «цацки», not the other way around.

By the way, one of the delightfully interesting Russian words is «цацкаться» [to mollycoddle]. This can be applied to both animate and inanimate objects as in:

«Мужик он никудышный и другая бы его уже давно бросила, а Валя всё цацкается с ним» [He’s pretty worthless and any other woman would’ve dumped him long ago, but Valya is still mollycoddling him]

«Да что ты всё цацкаешься со своим изобретением, тоже мне Томас Эдисон!» [Why are you still fiddling with your invention, some kind of Thomas Edison you are!]

When it comes to «цацки» and «сувениры» I usually get «украшение на ёлку» [an ornament for a Christmas tree], a book of local stories and a few «ракушки» [shells] for my collection. What do you usually get «на память о поездке» [to remember the trip by]?

In Russia you’ll only find «такая пустая улица» [such an empty street] in the city «летом» [(instrumental case: when?) in the summer] when «жара» [the heat] has driven all citizens either «на дачу» [(accusative case: direction) to the dacha] or – as one can read about in this article«в подвал» [into the basement] in search of «тень» [fem. shade] and «прохладу» [(accusative case: object) cool; coolness].

Anyone who has been keeping an eye on the Russian news lately can’t possible have missed the heat wave that has almost paralyzed everyone «в европейской части Российской федерации» [in the European part of the Russian Federation]. Temperatures between 30 and 40 degrees Celsius in the summer are nothing out of the ordinary in places like the Urals or Siberia, but those Russian regions have a «резко континентальный климат» [drastic continental climate] that is indeed much more «резкий» [adj. abrupt, harsh, drastic] than the simply «континентальный климат» [continental climate] in other parts of the country we all love. If you google the phrase «жара в России» [heat in Russia] now you’ll find articles with titles like «В Москве от жары начали гибнуть аквариумные рыбки» [“In Moscow aquarium fishes have begun to die from the heat”], «Москва превратилась в асфальтную сковородку» [“Moscow has turned into a frying pan made out of asphalt”] and «Температурный рекорд в Москве вновь может быть побит» [“The temperature record in Moscow may be beat once again”]. The summer of 2010 is most likely going to be «самое жаркое лето» [the hottest summer] since the 1930’s – maybe the hottest summer EVER in Russia. This is of course a good reason to add a very useful word to our constantly expanding Russian «словарный запас» [vocabulary]: «жара» [heat]. This word is a feminine noun that has a couple of ‘word friends’ closely linked to it, like the adjective «жаркий» [1. hot; 2. fig. heated, passionate, intense], the adverb «жарко» [(used predicatively) hot] and the verb «жарить» [impfv., 1. to fry, roast, broil; 2. colloq. (of the sun) to beat down (on)]. There’s also the masculine noun «жар» [1. heat; 2. fever, high temperature; 3. fig. ardor, fervor] used in the expression «в жару» [running a high fever], and not to be entirely confused with our word of the week «жара» [heat].

 

Don’t forget to drink «много воды» [a lot of water] when it’s «жарко» [hot]! In Russia you can either spend money on bottled «люкс вода» [‘luxury water’] – as seen in the background on this photo – or do as the natives and get it fresh for free from a pump in the street. I think it is rather obvious what I prefer – and it is «вкуснее» [(comparative) tastier] too!

What does «жара» [heat] ‘do’ in Russian language, then? What verb should you use with it? Believe it or not, but in Russian heat ‘stands’: «жара стоит» [lit. ‘heat stands’, but better: ‘it is hot’]. A popular adjective to use together with this particular noun is «невыносимый» [unbearable, unendurable, insufferable], and because «жара» [heat] is a feminine noun, you’ll have to change the adjective accordingly, thus the correct combination is the following: «невыносимая жара» [unbearable heat]. Here’s a Russian sentence worth memorizing for future discussions about the summer of 2010:

«Всё лето стояла невыносимая жара» – [lit. ‘The whole summer stood an unbearable heat’, but better: ‘There was an unbearable heat all summer long’ or ‘It was unbearably hot all summer long’].

But to «пить только воду» [drink only water] can get rather boring, no matter how healthy it is and good for your body «в жаркую погоду» [(accusative case: when?) in hot weather] – even more so considering all the options you have to choose from when in need of «что-нибудь холодное» [something cold]. You can buy «холодное пиво» [cold beer] in the street in Russia like in the picture above, for example. Everyone reading this blog seems to be in love with «холодный квас» [cold kvas]. Personally I prefer «холодный морс» [cold ‘mors’ (special kind of Russian fruit drink)]. And then there’s always the obvious choice of «холодная водка» [cold vodka]…

It may be rather obvious to everyone reading this blog this far into today’s post that there are several ways one could translate the English sentence “It’s hot today” into Russian. Here are three suggestions using three different types of words:

Using the noun «жара»: «Сегодня стоит жара» [lit. ‘Today heat stands’].

Using the adverb «жарко»: «Сегодня жарко» [lit. ‘Today it is hot’].

Using the adjective «жаркий»: «Сегодня жаркая погода» [lit. ‘Today the weather’s hot’].

Some people like it hot – are you one of them? Personally, I have no trouble dealing even with severe heat. I like to feel the sweat run down along my skin when lying in the sun as I’m trying to «загореть» [pfv. get sunburned; get a tan]. I rarely get ‘too hot’ – I think that’s «невозможно» [impossible] when it comes to me. I appreciate the true and intense heat of «настоящая русская баня» [a real Russian ‘banya’] so much that I have been known to ‘out-sit’ even quite a few Russians over the years. I’m the kind of person that sleeps in a hooded sweatshirt (with the hood up!) and sweatpants no matter the season, because I’m persistently afraid that «вдруг будет холодно» [suddenly it will become cold]. I am definitely one of those people that like it hot. Then you might wonder how I survived in Russia? Well – and I’ve tried to tell people this for years now – Russia is not a cold country. Yes, the winters there are cold «НА УЛИЦЕ» [lit. ‘ON THE STREET’, but actually meaning: OUTSIDE]. But Russia is always much warmer than any other place «ДОМА» [AT HOME, or also: INSIDE]. And you have the hot summers to look forward to…

When «вечерняя прохлада» [the cool of the evening] comes «после жаркого дня» [after a hot day] it is always very pleasant «купаться в реке» [impfv. to go swimming in a/the river]. This is an evening scene from a village by the river «Тагил» [Tagil] in the Urals.

The verb most commonly used together with our word of the week «жара» [heat] is «выносить» [impfv., here: to stand, bear, endure]. The perfect ‘friend’ of this verb is «вынести» [and that means that the meaning is the same]. Together with this verb you’ll have to put «жара» [heat] in «винительный падеж» [accusative case] and this asking the question «кого?/что?» [who?/what?] leads to this word taking the form of «жару». Here you have a couple of sentences that illustrate this combination:

«Я хорошо выношу жару» [I stand the heat well].

«Он не выносит жару» [he can’е stand the heat].

But that’s not the only noun that can be used together with this verb. In Russian language – as in any other language, for that matter – it is possible to not stand a wide range of different things. For example, other people:

«Я тебя не выношу [I can't stand you!]

And when you can’t stand the heat, there’s one thing you need to know how to say before you say anything else:

«Мне жарко!» [I’m hot!].

When you say this in Russian, please remember that it does not have the same connotation as the English translation ‘I’m hot’ in the sense of ‘I’m attractive (to the opposite sex)’, because the ‘I’ of the Russian sentence is not the subject but the object (in dative). That’s why you shouldn’t try to compliment an attractive Russian girl by saying «ты жаркая девушка» – because even though it translates directly into ‘you’re a hot girl’ that’s not at all what it means. Stick to standard adjectives like «красивая» [beautiful], «симпатичная» [cute] or «милая» [sweet] if you want to make sure to get your message of humble appreciation and gentlemanly interest across.

You can, however, use the adjective «жаркий» in the sense of ‘a heated discussion’ like this: «жаркая дискуссия» [heated discussion].

Really, the topic of standard combinations ‘adjective + noun’ in Russian versus the same ‘adjective + noun’ in English – with the risk of the direct English translation being both weird and silly – deserves a post of it’s own! Do you know any examples of such phrases that work in one language but so not in another?

Russia is white not only in winter: during summer she’s («Россия» is after all a feminine noun!) covered in what I like to call «летний снег» [summer snow]. Other people call it simply «белый пух» [white down; fluff; fuzz]. The real name for it is «тополиный пух» [poplar fuzz] – and no Russian summer is complete without it!

Today I was reading through our next guest post by Sam (which will be posted here on the blog on Thursday) and the beginning of it brought me back to every summer I ever spent in Russia, but especially «моё первое русское лето в Омске в 2005 (две тысячи пятом) году» [my first Russian summer in Omsk in 2005]. Even though Yelena and I had already decided that we would not have more than one guest post per month by our readers (really, we have the best, most attentive, interesting and creative readers any blog could ever ask for!), she sent Sam’s post to me together with such thrilled comments from her that I couldn’t but throw myself over it and read it straight away… Anyone who’s ever been to Russia between «в конце июня» [the end of June] and «в начале июля» [the beginning of July] remembers that – strangely enough, despite degrees between 30 and 40 C – the ground was white, covered in something fluffy. And what is worse: before the «белый пух» [white fluff] arrives safely on the ground, it is everywhere in the air around you (for some reason it sticks wonderful to lipstick… but even better on lip-gloss!) and causes many a Russian to spend a large part of their summer vacation sneezing. This is nothing else but the dreaded «тополиный пух» [poplar fuzz] which comes from a tree called «тополь» [sing. poplar] in Russian. Surprisingly many Russian cities today have «тополя» [pl. poplars] as the most common tree in public parks. Before my first Russian summer I was not familiar with this tree at all; I don’t think I had seen it before in my life. «Летний снег» [summer snow] was a new, foreign concept to me. I noticed the ground was covered in this white fluff, that many of my Russian friends in Siberia (where I lived at the time – «ах, сладкая юность!» [oh, sweet youth!]) suffered from terrible allergic reactions and I had to ask: «Почему [Why?] They told me it was because this particular tree grows very fast and can become ‘full-grown’ within three, four, five years. I joked: «Находка для пятилетки!» [A find for the five year plan!]. They didn’t find my joke very funny – because it was true.

A photograph from 2005: «лето в Сибири» [summer in Siberia] and a scene from the «река Иртыш на закате» [river Irtysh in sunset].

Many things surprised me during my first summer in Russia. I had arrived in Siberia «в феврале того же 2005 (две тысячи пятого) года» [in February that same year 2005] by train an early morning when it was «минус 35 (тридцать пять)» [minus 35 C]. For two months it was so very cold; probably the coldest winter in my life – at least until the winter of 2009/2010 «на Урале» [in the Urals] – and I could not even picture me how Siberia looked underneath all of the snow. When the snow still hadn’t begun to melt and it was already the middle of March, I started to seriously doubt there would ever be «лето в Сибири» [summer in Siberia]. Then it came – «вдруг!» [suddenly!], as «Фёдор Михайлович» [Fyodor Mikhailovich (Dostoevsky)] would have put it. The snow melted – «хлоп!» [bang!] The heat arrived – «хлоп!» [bang!] The trees bloomed – «хлоп!» [bang!] All of the sudden it was «выше 30 (тридцати) градусов тепла» [more than 30 degrees warm] and it was only the beginning of April… That’s when I realized that «в Сибири не бывает весны» [in Siberia there is no spring] – something that I afterwards tried relentlessly to explain to people living in other places, where the seasons are four. Most of them still can’t seem to fathom that in Siberia there are really only two: «зима и лето» [winter and summer] – «зима ледовая и лето жгучее» [an ice winter and a burning summer]. The weeks between the two are only «переходные стадии» [passing stages]. But the spring heat was only the a preview of what the summer had in stored: the temperature rose to «около 40 (сорока) в июне» [around 40 C in June], and «в середине июля было 45 (сорок пять) градусов» [in the middle of July it was 45 C degrees]. The asphalt felt soft underneath my feet when I walked; and after that I’ve never complained seriously about the Russian roads being so outstandingly poor. After all, when they’re frozen half of the year and almost melting the other half – what do you expect?

My first Russian summer was special in many ways. For example, I had never before been anywhere that warm where there was no air-condition – let alone live for months in such a place! Luckily, my room «в общаге» [in the dorm (colloquial for «общежитие» [dormitory])] in Omsk didn’t have sunshine in the morning (that adventure was waiting for me in the Urals, where I lived for four years in a room with morning sun; why go to the beach when you can get a tan from the comfort of your own bed in Russia?!). The buses turned to saunas and everyone who could tried to hide in old buildings from the 19th century – which had thick enough walls to keep the heat out. But Siberia was not only smelly during the summer of 2005, she (once again, a feminine noun) was also beautiful. Summer wasn’t short – Omsk is after all located in SOUTHERN Siberia – but nature still did the best it could to make the most of it. 2005 was also the last year before it became «запрещено купаться» [forbidden to swim (or bathe)] in the river «Иртыш» [Irtysh], so we still had the opportunity to cool off that way every once in a while. Not that the Russians stopped swimming in the river in the summer of 2006 because it was suddenly forbidden…

But what perplexed me the most during «моё первое русское лето» [my first Russian summer] was something completely else: a sign saying «технический перерыв» [technical break] on the door of a tiny kiosk selling «мороженое» [ice-cream]. What do they mean? I wondered. Do they turn off the freezers during this ‘technical break’? But then the ice-cream will melt? What do they do during this break? What kind of complex technical equipment do they have in there, which is in need of breaks at least twice a day? Russia in the summer seemed increasingly mysterious to me. I didn’t find out the secret behind this sign – and many signs just like it – until one of my co-workers at the Dostoevsky Museum in Omsk had her birthday in August. The museum closed for the entire day, and a sign was placed on the door: «санитарный день» [sanitary day]. Yet nobody left work or cleaned anything – instead everyone stayed and enjoyed lots of food, vodka, cake and even dancing until late in the evening!

Another photograph from the summer of 2005: taken «на Алтае» [in the Altay Mountains], but only in the very ‘beginning’ of them, so don’t let the lack of hills confuse you… It is one of the most beautiful places in Siberia.

I think that during my first Russian summer – though I did many other things, too: I traveled to «Новосибирск» [Novosibirsk], «Красноярск» [Krasnoyarsk] and even went on «поход на Алтае» [a hike in the Altay Mountains] – cemented in me a strong love not only for this country, but for also for the Russian people. Without them, Siberia would only be a huge piece of land, a geological reality, so to speak. But with the Russians inhabiting it, this land is legendary to many – in history, culture as well as modern mythology – it’s a little bit absurd and absolutely lovely. If anyone asked me to go live the rest of my life in Siberia, I wouldn’t hesitate. I’d just go. Even if I wasn’t offered to live in «Иркутск» [Irkutsk], but had to settled for some tiny town like «Тара» [Tara] instead. That’s how romantic a person I am…

Where in Russia would you go to live the rest of your life without hesitating? Or am I mad for even asking?

Little has changed in the way barrel kvas is sold. The main improvement is disposable cups instead of reusable glass mugs that were never properly washed. The article at TopNews24.ru explains why barrel kvas is so much better than the stuff sold in plastic bottles.

Do you know that most of Russia has «континентальный климат» [a continental climate]? This means very cold winters followed by short, but very warm dry summers with occasional temperatures “characteristic of tropical climates”.

June’s barely begun and «температура» [temperature] is already in the lower 30ies in my native Volgograd. Josefina’s second home, Yekaterinburg, is expected to stay in the mid- to high 20ies through the weekend. (Don’t forget to practice your metric  conversions; the temperatures above are in degrees Celsius)

So what do Russians drink on those hot summer afternoons, when «кажется, и сил не было дышать, когда солнце, раскалив Москву, в сухом тумане валилось куда-то за Садовое кольцо…» […no one, it seemed, had the strength to breath, when the sun had left Moscow scorched to a crisp and was collapsing in a dry haze somewhere behind the Sadovoye Ring…]

By the way, «Вы уже читаете Мастера и Маргариту?» [have you started reading Master and Margarita]. If yes, you’ll be familiar with the quote above. You’d also know that the hapless Berlioz, the editor of a literary magazine, wanted to quench his thirst with «нарзан» while his young companion, poet Ivan Bezdomny, asked for «пиво» [beer].

Neither got what he wanted and both settled for something called «абрикосовая» [apricot-flavored] which was warm and foamy (doesn’t sound very appetizing, does it?).

Curiously, in our little informal Facebook poll on the subject of refreshing summer drinks, neither «нарзан» nor «абрикосовая» were mentioned. Instead, the most popular drink was «квас» [kvas, fermented bread drink].

If you’ve never tried kvas or don’t know much about it, you can check out a Wikipedia entry (English or Russian). But if you don’t care to read either of these, then here are 5 quick facts about kvas:

  1. «Квас» is the summer drink of choice in Russia with sales far outstripping those of  «газировка» [carbonated drinks].
  2. The verb «квасить» has two meanings directly related to «квас». One is to ferment, usually in relations to preserving veggies or making bread, i.e. «квашеная капуста» [fermented or sour cabbage] and «закваска» [starter or leavening]. The other meaning of «квасить» is to get drunk.
  3. But don’t waste time trying to get drunk on «квас». Alcohol content of bread kvas is only about 1% and fruit and berry kvases have no alcohol in them at all. Of course, back in the good old days, 11th century or about, kvas was much stronger and heavier than beer. The trees were also taller and the sky was a brighter shade of blue.
  4. Drinking «квас» improves digestion, balances metabolism, strengthens cardio-vascular system and acts as an energy drink of sorts (as they say in Russia, «поднимает тонус» [lit. elevates one’s tissue tension].
  5. The best «квас» is from «квасная бочка» [a kvas barrel]. Painted bright yellow, they are a common site on Russian streets in the summer. (Although there are always «страшилки» [scary urban legends] about maggots and rats in the barrels, and the scariest of it all, the money-hungry sellers watering down their «квас»,  thus making it absolutely unusable for «окрошка» [cold kvas-based soup].

Shame on me, I haven’t tried making my own kvas yet. But I will shortly since it’s supposed to be a very simple process. Once I test the recipe and the technique, I’ll definitely share with you. For now we are all stuck with bottled kvas sold at Russian stores and online.

If bottled kvas isn’t your thing (can’t blame you), but you still want an authentic Russian experience, let’s move on to «газировка» [carbonated drinks]. I’ll skip obviously Western colas and instead talk about two main types of Russian «газировка»:

«Газировка без сиропа» [carbonated drink without syrup] – that’s just plain water with fizzy bubbles in it. You can make it at home from a glass of tap water and a contraption called «сифон» [soda siphon].

«Газировка с сиропом» [carbonated drink with syrup] is just a bit fancier and still totally DIY-able. Just add a bit of syrup to your glass. Or buy a bottle of gold-colored «Буратино», pear-flavored «Дюшес», lemon-lime flavored clear «Колокольчик», «Тархун» (my favorite for its deep green color and tarragon flavor] or any other sugary concoction.

Really old “автоматы по продаже газировки” [carbonated beverage vending machines]. Three black buttons at the top correspond to three available choices – “without syrup” (cost – 1 kopek), “with syrup” (3 kopek) and “тархун” (10 kopeks? Not sure about that ’cause it was never available anyway). Notice reusable glasses – before you drink out of them, you’d wash them, then – wash again once you’re done.

By the way, «абрикосовая» drank by Berlioz and Bezdomny (you haven’t forgotten about them, have you?), was a type of apricot-flavored «газировка с сиропом».

It is well-understood that «газировка с сиропом» is not a healthy choice. «Соки и воды несут углеводы» [Juices and waters carry carbohydrates]. That’s probably why «осторожный» [prudent] Berlioz first asked for «нарзан» – a fizzy mineral water. Narzan is still widely sold in Russia and, along with other syrup-free weakly- and strongly-carbonated mineral waters, is claimed to have medicinal qualities.

Another word for «газировка» is «шипучка» [fizzy drink] – a great example of onomatopoeia. Another word, the one you might come across in Russian literature (particularly, in children’s books), but that’s outdated is «ситро» [lit: citron, lemonade].

Other Russian summer drinks include various «соки» [juices], «морс» [watered-down and sugared juice], and «компот» [a cold drink made by boiled fruits and berries with some sugar].

Is plain water popular? Well, even though the signs at the juice- and soda-counters in Russia read «Соки и воды» [Juices and waters], the later refers to «газированные воды» [carbonated water] of all kinds, not to the good old water.

 The last post about a trip to a «деревня» [village], or more correctly a «посёлок» [settlement] in the Russian region of «южный Урал» [Southern Urals] is followed up today as we continue our exploration of a part of Russia that I’ve come to love dearly after three years here: «Урал» [the Ural Mountains]! Today’s journey takes us deeper into the region of «средний Урал» [the Central Urals] and to «Верхний Тагил» [Verkhny, or ‘Upper', Tagil]. This place is named after the river it stands on – «Тагил» [Tagil]. Another city, much bigger in population, located another hour’s drive north and also named after this river is «Нижний Тагил» [Nizhny, or ‘Lower', Tagil]. How come Verkhny Tagil is the ‘upper’ one, when it’s ‘lower’ on the map, you might be wondering? Because the river Tagil runs from south to north, thus making Verkhny Tagil ‘upper’ according to the river. (I’m sorry that this piece of Google Maps that I stole is not entirely clear – anyway, today’s town is marked by the little blue bubble…)

For two reasons July 2009 will be spent by me traveling the beautiful region of «Урал» [the Urals]: 1) because it is where I live (thus it is always close-by) and I know many Russians in different towns in the Urals, thus I can «ездить к ним в гости» [travel to visit them]; and 2) because this region has lovely nature – it is not all «горы» [mountains]. Do please make a note, by the way, of the fact that the Russian name for the region – «Урал» – leaves out the ‘mountains’ part, something present in many other languages, in English for example. In Russian you say «Урал» and with that you feel content and rest assured that people will understand what place on this Earth of ours that you have in mind. Do also note that the locative case (let’s also not forget the Russian name for this case: «предложный падеж») form of this word is «на Урале» [in the Urals (lit. ON the Urals)]. This means that you must also change «предлог» [preposition] when asking the important question: «откуда [from where?] and answer it with: «с Урала» [from the Urals], using everyone’s favorite «родительный падеж» [genitive case]. Last week I visited the village/settlement of «Полетаево» [Poletaevo] located south of the city «Челябинск» [Chelyabinsk] and returned with a rather disturbed by the depressing impression the Russian countryside made on me. This week I’ve returned from another Ural ‘sojourn’ with a much more positive impression and restored some of my lost faith in Russia as a country. After all, there are a million sides to every story, just as every coin can be flipped in a thousand different angles, thus a country such huge in size and population as Russia can never be summed up by one visit to one place, one talk with one person or one read of one novel. This country has made itself famous by never siezing to be complex, by enldessly contiuing to surprise and never failing to amaze. That’s why one should never be fooled into thinking anything is ‘set in stone’ in this country just because you have half a decade of experience living here. But that’s the fun about, right? That’s why we keep learning about Russia, isn’t it? Because we remain constantly fascinated by the Eastern Motherland? Because we can never really «поставить точку» [to finish; close the books on] this country?

This is, incidentially, the lesson I learned after visiting «Верхний Тагил» [Verkny Tagil] for one day (yesterday) and one night. It is indeed a «маленький город» [small town] located «на среднем Урале» [in the Middle Urals] about two hours north-west of Yekaterinburg. Today’s post is a picture post about what one is bound to found in a Russian small town – with example pictures from the lovely small town of Verkhny Tagil!

«Итак, начнём!» [Let's begin!]

Памятник Великой Отечественной войне.

In every Russian town – no matter how small or distant it may be – there is a «памятник Великой Отечественной войне» [monument in honor of the Great Patriotic War]. Here it might look like this war lasted a very, very long time – between the years 1917 and 1945 – but that’s just because the year 1941 is hidden behind the soldiers.

Завод.

Many Russian smaller cities are built around one large factory, something called «градообразующий завод» [this could be translated as ‘a factory that creates a town']. When such factories ‘die’ the result is that the town built around them also dies (sad, but true). Verkhny Tagil is built around «Верхнетагильская ГРЭС - тепловая электростанция» where half of the town’s population works.

Баня.

Of course every town has to have a «баня» [public bath]! This one works between 14 and 22 and have separate days for women and men. Make sure to check this while planning your visit there!

Краеведческий музей.

Russian towns – once again, no matter how small or distant from civilization they may be – are very proud of their local history. That’s why you’ll find a «краеведческий музей» [regional museum] that’s always worth a visit. Sometimes you’ll be lucky to find it in such a great state as the one above – newly painted in a beautiful shade of blue.

Церковь.

I’m not sure that every Russian town – due to the fact that «коммунизм» [communism] brought with it «принуждённый атеизм» [forced atheism] when this country was known as «Советский Союз» [Soviet Union] – has a «церковь» [church] yet. But what I know is that small town churches are constantly being either restored or built in Russia today, and that the one pictured above in Verkhny Tagil survived all the 70 years of communism without ever loosing its initial function.

Next week will take me to Красновишерск [Krasnovishersk]. Anyone who can guess what (or who?) makes me want to travel even further up north in the Urals?

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