Posts tagged with "yekaterinburg"

Maybe somewhere in between all the recent posts by Yelena on our blog – as well as Vickie’s excellent guest post two days ago – you might have asked yourselves: «А где же Джозефина?!» [“But where is Josefina?!”] I know there’s been a significant gap without me posting here about the wondrous world of Russian grammar (and we all know how hard it is to live for a day without learning something new and exiting about everyone’s favorite language!), but I have a reason for this – and believe me, it’s a good one! Right now «я всё ещё в Екатеринбурге» [I’m still in Yekaterinburg], but let me tell you «где я была» [where I was] a week before this: «я съездила в Москву и в Вологду» [I went (traveled) to Moscow and Vologda]. What did I do there, then? I thought that today I would tell you first about my trip «в европейскую часть Российской федерации» [to the European part of Russian Federation] by way of a couple of informative pictures. After that I’ll explain why I have chosen this particular post to introduce one of the most mysterious verbs of the Russian language: «собираться» [impfv. 1) to gather, assemble; 2) to prepare, get ready; 3) to be gathering, be in the offing; 4) to intend to; 5) to be about to]. Yes, this marvelous little verb has no less than five possible connotations and plausible ways of being translated into English! Aren’t you exited now to find out what makes this particular verb perfect for what I am about to do in less than three days: «уехать из России» [to leave Russia]?

The Russians themselves say that it is a sure sign you’re «из провинции» [from the province] if the first thing you do when in Moscow is «пойти на Красную площадь» [to go to Red Square]. I’m not ashamed to say that this is always what I do first thing when I’m in the Russian «столица» [capital] because I lived «вся моя русская жизнь в провинции» [all of my Russian life in the province]…

But this time I decided to do something I had never done before while in Moscow: «посетить музей Булгакова» [to visit the Bulgakov museum]. It’s free! Here I am standing behind the door to «квартира номер 50 (пятьдесят)» [apartment number 50], known in «Мастер и Маргарита» [“The Master and Margarita”] as «нехорошая квартира» [a not good (or: bad) apartment]. On the top floor you can visit the apartment where Bulgakov lived, but the entrance costs money.

After Moscow I took the train to Vologda, where I celebrated the birthday of my most beloved Russian writer «Варлам Тихонович Шаламов» [Varlam Tikhonovich Shalamov] on the 18th of June at the Shalamov House together with a group of young scholars from Moscow. The more attentive readers might remember that I first visited Vologda in January this year, and that this was also because of Shalamov. I try not to make all of my posts here on the blog about this writer – but sometimes he might slip in without me wanting it… «Что делать? Он же великий писатель!» [What can you do? He's a great writer!].

While being so close to «русский север» [the Russian north], we decided to hop on a bus and travel for three hours further north and visit the small town of «Кириллов» [Kirillov]. From there we took a taxi to the village of «Ферапонт» [Ferapont], where there’s an amazingly beautiful monastery that’s on UNESCO’s list of world heritage. Why? Because it has intact frescos from the 14th century!

Now I’m back «на Урале» [in the Urals] once again, and right now «собираю свою русскую жизнь» [I’m gathering my Russian life]. It feels «так странно» [so strange] that I’m about to leave this country for just as long a period of time as I have spent living here – «шесть лет» [six years]. It goes without saying that I am now very different from the nineteen year old girl I was when I arrived in «Санкт-Петербург» [Saint Petersburg] in August 2004. Yes, I’m «старше» [older], «опытнее» [more experienced] and «умнее» [smarter]. And it feels «ещё страннее» [even stranger] to think of this country now and try «собираться с мыслями» [to collect my thoughts] about what Russia have come to mean to me through the years. There’s too much to say, too much that’s on my heart, in my mind – and yet «так не хватает слов!» [there aren't enough words!]. Of course, I wouldn’t be who I am today «без России» [without Russia], «без русского опыта» [without (my) Russian experience], «без опыта жизни и выживания в России» [without the experience of (lit. life) living and surviving in Russia]. I once heard a foreigner – who had lived and worked in Russia for several years – say that he could write a book about every week he spent in Russia. I don’t know who would read such a book; but I know I could also do that  – easily! But the thing about life is that most things become apparent, clear and comprehensible to us only «в сравнении» [in comparison] and «на расстоянии» [from a distance]. And the best distance of all is «время» [time]. I had to live a couple of years in Russia before I understood what inside of me is Swedish; i.e. what has its source in my nationality, my cultural heritage and upbringing – and what is simply me. That’s why I think it is still too early for me now to say just WHAT I’ll bring with me from this country. «С годами» [with the years] I’ll come to realize what part of me is Russian… For already now I know that I’m partly Russian. One cannot live for this long in a foreign country without making it your own and yourself a part of it. If you can, then you’re not doing the whole immigration thing right!

The past couple of days I have done little else but dedicate myself completely to the verb «собираться»: here in the sense of ‘getting ready’. But «собираться» can also mean ‘to intend to’, and thus the sentence «я собираюсь уехать» may translate into ‘I’m planning to leave’ but also ‘I intend to leave’. The first sentence indicates a very direct plan to do something; the second one not so much. It only states a wish, perhaps an intention – or maybe it was said with strong emotions and tomorrow – when sober – it will not mean anything. «Собираться» is intentionally fuzzy and was probably made up by the Russians so as to confuse non-native speakers. The interesting thing about this verb is that it sometimes doesn’t indicate any action at all (and we all know that we need verbs to tell people we’re DOING something or other). That makes «собираться» different from almost all other verbs in all other languages. For example, when Russians say «Сейчас собираемся» [Now we’re getting ready] it doesn’t have to indicate any movement – it is often said and then followed by, for example, everyone remaining seated at the table and the host pouring you another glass. Or how about this dialogue:

«Почему ты не пришёл вчера [Why didn’t you come yesterday?]

«Собирался прийти, да не получилось» [I planned to (intended to, was about to) come, but it didn’t work out].

Really what this person did was not any action at all; and we will never find out exactly what his «собирание» ['getting ready', ‘intending'] constituted of. So what is the confused non-native speaker to do when confronted with such a strange verb as this one? The only good way to handle is to do as the Russians – use it to your advantage! How? For example, let’s say you agreed to meet someone at a particular place at a particular time. Then you forgot all about it. The person calls you and you’re already ten minutes late. What do you say? «Собираюсь!» [I'm getting ready!] of course! It sounds like you’re already half way there, when in reality you haven’t even put on your shoes yet. This verb always saves the day when you haven’t done something you’re supposed to have done – you can always say «собираюсь» and then continue sipping your tea.

P.S. the perfect to this verb is «собраться» ;) But do note that it is used much less frequently in colloquial speech!

«Монумент на границе Европы-Азии» [the (new) monument on the border between Europe and Asia] «на московском тракте» [on the highway to Moscow (from Siberia)].

Have you ever dreamed of being in two places at one and the same time? «На Урале» [in the Ural Mountains] all your dreams can come true – including this one! Russia is great country in many, many ways; one way in which it is great is that it spans more than one continent: «Россия расположена и в Европе, и в Азии» [Russia is located both in Europe and in Asia]. Everybody’s favorite country has its historical core as well as most of its population (72%), economic activity and political institutions (such as its capital city «Москва» [Moscow]) in Europe, yet geographically most of the territory (71%) is actually in Asia. Most people are aware of the fact that «граница между Европой и Азией» [the border between Europe and Asia] goes somewhere in the Ural Mountains. Very few know exactly where this «граница находится» [border is located]. Maybe no one actually knows. It is ‘generally accepted’ that the border follows along the river «Урал» [Ural] but not everywhere in the Urals is this general acceptance respected. Like for example in «Екатеринбург» [Yekaterinburg], where I live. Our local historians have – according to what I have been told by them – decided that the border between Europe and Asia is located not far from Yekaterinburg, some 50 kilometers to the west, near the town of «Первоуральск» [Pervoural'sk]. This is of course a very convenient decision. Already in Soviet times a big and flashy «монумент» [monument] was built on the site in honor of its prestigious location on the border, so that tourists could go visit it and take pictures of themselves with their legs «в разных частях мира» [in different parts of the world]. But with time it turned out that this monument had been built not in the ‘right’ spot. Not that it wasn’t ‘officially’ on the border, but that it was located by «старомосковский тракт» [the old highway to Moscow]. When the new highway to Moscow was finished this monument found itself more than a little bit off – adding to this that the old highway was in such a terrible shape that not even the most humble Russian would want to risk taking foreign tourists on it. The old highway is still in a terrible shape; yesterday when we drove back on it my professor repeated the good old Russian proverb «у России две бедыдураки и дороги» [Russia has two sorrows – fools and roads] twice. But this problem was easily solved: a new monument was built on the new highway. The new monument is not only «скромнее» [more humble] than the old one but also more ‘American’ – it is complete with a gift shop and a snack bar and has plenty of places where one can pose for pictures as well as many of benches for «туристы» [pl. tourists] to have a rest on in the nearby wood. If the old monument was all about RUSSIA being on the border – it is «гордо» [proudly] topped by the two-headed eagle – then the new one is more about FRIENDSHIP between countries over the same border. Take a look at the picture below from the site of the new monument:

The same beautiful and hopeful message written in three languages on one and the same pole: «на азиатской стороне» [on the Asian side] «написано по-китайски» [it is written in Chinese], «на европейской стороне» [on the European side] «написано по-английски» [it is written in English] and «в середине» [in the middle] «написано по-русски» [it is written in Russian].

Even though the border between Europe and Asia is only a short car ride away from Yekaterinburg – where I have lived «с августа 2006 (две тысячи шестого) года» [since August 2006] – I had not visited it until yesterday. Why? I don’t know. Maybe it is because it is the one thing that all tourists visiting this city MUST do, but I’ve never felt like I’ve been a «туристка» [fem. tourist] here. Also I don’t have a car – «у меня даже водительских прав нет!» [I don't even have a driver's license!] – and this could have played a large role as to why I never went there for so many years. But I can highly recommend visiting it, even though it is just a place marked by some local historians and the ‘real’ border between Europe and Asia could just as well be somewhere entirely else. If you want to be really sure that you have had one foot both in Europe as well as in Asia at one and the same time, then you should visit «Оренбург» [Orenburg] in the Southern Urals which is a true «пограничный город» [boundary; frontier town]: it belongs to both Europe and Asia at one and the same time. It is also the town where Pushkin’s prose masterpiece «Капитанская дочка» [“The Captain’s Daughter”] is set – and now you have two solid reasons for why to go there! But no, I haven’t been there either…

A snapshot of the ‘old’ monument taken from a European perspective.

The locals here usually don’t say the whole phrase «граница Европы-Азии» [the border of Europe and Asia] but shorten it simply as «Европа-Азия» [Europe-Asia]. I guess that makes a lot of sense because that’s just what it is. Russians here sometimes say things like:

«Поехали на Европу-Азию [Let’s go to (the border between) Europe and Asia!]

«Мы были на Европе-Азии» [We were at (the border between) Europe and Asia].

Here I am –with one foot «в Европе» [in Europe] and the other «в Азии» [in Asia]. But all of me is still «в России» [in Russia]… Sometimes when I think of the fact that I’ve lived in ASIA since February 2005 I get puzzled: is Russia really Asia? Yes and no. That it is IN Asia, well, that’s a given – isn’t it?

Have you ever visited the border between Europe and Asia? If yes – where? If no – then maybe you’ve been on two places at one and the same time somewhere else?

Usually my Russian hometown «Екатеринбург» [Yekaterinburg] looks like this: «бесконечные пробки на улицах» [endless traffic jams on the streets] and «бесконечный ремонт домов и дорог» [endless reconstruction of houses and roads]. But not anymore!

Now my «родной город на Урале» [hometown in the Urals] looks like this! Pictured above is the main street of the city – «проспект Ленина» [Lenin's prospect]. You might not find this picture too extraordinary, but let me inform you of the fact that I’ve lived here for almost three years and I’ve never actually seen the asphalt there before for all the cars… So what’s going on in Yekat right now, you’re wondering? Well, yesterday and today (16-17 of June) marked the summit of «ШОС» [SCO] - that’s short for «Шанхайская организация сотрудничества» [Shanghai Cooperation Organization]. Tomorrow another summit starts here in our town: «БРИК» [BRIC]- that’s an acronym for the countries «Бразилия, Россия, Индия, Китай» [Brazil, Russia, India, China]. Yes, we’re all crowded with international presidents and thousands of policemen flown in from all over Russia to protect them (from us or from themselves, now that is the question…)!

During the past two months Yekaterinburg, where I have lived, studied and worked for almost three years now, has changed greatly day by day before my eyes – «к лучшему!» [for the better!] Yekaterinburg is like most Russian large cities; with both good and bad sides and its own little special, quirky details. But most of all it’s just like any other Russian city at this point in time – growing fast and changing at an even quicker rate. The financial crisis hit hard during last fall, and for a while everything seemed to be standing still; for a couple of months all construction sites around town (they’re everywhere here!) stopped working. Then in April – with the two international summits SCO and BRIC only two months away – the Russians proved that they indeed can do things right: if they’re forced to, that is. Yekaterinburg shaped up in ways I had never foreseen. Roads were fixed or built from scratch all over again (since they were in such a poor condition to begin with), buildings were painted, flowers planted, embarrassing elements removed (such as advertisement reminding of the ongoing financial crisis, mostly those saying «аренда» [for rent] on new fashionable buildings) and Yekaterinburg began to look like a ‘real’ modern ‘megapolis’. Most of these changes, though, were made only within the center of the city and mainly their the efforts were concentrated on the roads on which the delegations were to travel on during this week in June, yet the amount of work that they pulled off within two months are still worth an enormous amount of respect. They even managed to build a new terminal at the airport! (My close friend, who works at the airport, said they did it so fast that it’ll probably come tumbling down by the end of June, but hey, if that’s not the Russian way, then I don’t know what ‘the Russian way’ is.)

The green building seen in the background – newly renovated for the purpose – is «резиденция президента Российской федерации в Екатеринбурге» [the residence for the president of the Russian Federation in Yekaterinburg] where «Дмитрий Анатольевич Медведев» [Dmitry Anatol'evich Medvedev] might be having his tea right as you read this as he’ll be staying there this whole week. I’m sorry for the poor quality of the pictures today – my camera broke and I’m forced to document Russian reality with my phone these days…

At first I thought of calling today’s post: “Word of the Week: «Показуха»” [colloq. show; window dressing; from the verb «показать/показывать» - to show; display; demonstrate], since that’s what has been on my mind the entire month of June. Because, I thought, Russians don’t care about keeping their city clean for themselves, but as soon as somebody from the outside decides to take a peak at how they’re living, then they’re always careful to put on an impressive show. Afterwards everything – as is the general rule – falls to pieces while the last flight with important international people leaves town. Today I took a walk around town and it changed my feelings completely. The city has never looked as good as it did today – everything was clean, even the weather behaved well (sunny and warm!), there were hardly any cars on the streets which meant that the city was calm, quiet and perfect for walking around and enjoying life in. Everywhere in the city people seemed to be feeling just what I was feeling; everywhere people were walking around and listening to the silence and soaking up the sun and breathing not-so-dirty-as-usual air. With a couple of police officers on every street corner this is the safest I’ve ever felt in Russia. I don’t mind if this will last for just for a week or a month – «я горжусь своим городом» [I'm proud of my town]. One of my friends sighed deeply at the sight of empty, wide prospects everywhere and said – not without a sweet sense of tender nostalgia in her voice – «Ах ты, совок!» «Совок» is the Russian word for the English variant ‘Homo Soveticus’; in the way she used this word it can be translated as: ‘Ah you, Soviet Union!’ Or something like it. And I have to agree because yes, in a way today Yekaterinburg looked just like it does on all those old Soviet photographs… clean, empty and filled with men of the law keeping order.

«Точно как в старые времена [Just like in the olden days!]

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