Notes From the Misty Streets

Another day in Petersburg and this morning has a distinctly post-drinking feel to it. This is, despite potential accusations, not altogether common. The likely reason in this case is a newly discovered pint, as I euphemistically call it, which is actually one litre. A perfectly logical exploitation of the metric system, it is a much more satisfying volume. There may be potential conflict with laws pertaining to alcohol and it's consumption (theoretically strict but practically sketchy) but for a night of drinking it is far superior to the British pint.
I am now fully in a routine of teaching, and putting into practice the methodology endorsed by my language school realating to TEFAL teaching. I have a variety of classes, ranging from pre-intermediate to upper-intermediate, but class's real ability is not necessarily reflected by the level of course they are studying. The most impressive location I teach at is a provincial mansion built by a certain Count Kuchubey in about 1913. The language school itself is located in a modest but modern wing, and occupies several floors. The students are mostly local, between 18 and 22. They are at least reasonably committed to learning English as they arrive after a normal day of studying, and then from 6.30 'til 9.15 they have a fairly intensive (but usually fun) lesson of English language. It is pleasant to meet people who are pro-active about learning, rather than the usual glum resignation to class drilling in tenses or some such horror.
The mansion is in a small-ish town called Pushkin, previously Tsarskoye Selo (Village of the Tsar), and is surrounded by palaces and wonderful architecture. The Winter Palace is on the edge of the town and is surrounded by large parks with little rivers and lakes, and statues and pavilions, and guilded archways and decorated facades. It is quite splendid. What was not so splendid was the demand of 70 roubles for admission, but after wandering around the back of the park and discovering a less closely monitored entrance I got in for 70 roubles less than the asking price. Apparently this is the Russian way, so I must be benefitting from the immersion in their culture.
My perception of Russian life has been refined and deepened over the last three weeks, particularly after meeting and teaching numerous Russian students. There seems to me to be a significant difference between the generations- no doubt as in any country- but it seems different, at least, to England. I will save further comment on this for a later occasion, but it is something I will be paying particular attention to. Russian driving continues to cause me to grasp the edge of my seat on the marshrutka rather firmly. Apparently it is offensive to use a seatbelt, but I rarely see them anyway. Certainly not on marshrutkas. Overtaking happens more or less irrespective of on-coming traffic, and there is similar lack of regard for parking, as often occurs, on pavements. As this happens on Petersburg's equivalent to Oxford street, it is at least remarkable.
Life is reasonably straightforward at the moment, but is is cooling down now and I feel a more definite step towards Winter. For me at least, there is a sense of foreboding mixed with anticipation, and various other feelings thrown in. It will be interesting. The grey mists are closing in on the city, and the eery, supernatural reputation of Petersburg is beginning to make itself apparent.