When
I apply for jobs, these are some things I consider - questions I ask of myself,
of the ad and on the phone/ in an interview and obviously vary according to the
job and location.
A Brit's view of Russia from working there, marrying a Russian and trips over.
Sunday, 28 September 2014
Thursday, 25 September 2014
Russian Superstitions
In
my early days in Russia, a friend, Vadim, called me to invite me over. Soon
outside his flat. I rang the bell and the door opened. I had already learnt
that the standard greeting between men is to shake hands. I duly extended my
hand. He looked at it, then at me, “Come in.” I left my hand outstretched but
quickly understood that the gesture was not about to be reciprocated. I was confused
and wondered if and how I’d offended him. I got inside, unnerved, removing my
outdoor shoes in the house, as is usual. Vadim then grabbed my hand and shook
it enthusiastically. I was baffled. The explanation was a superstition, which
I’ll explain, along with some others I’ve experienced.
An animated version of a domovoi, a character of superstitions, from a Russian film |
Wednesday, 24 September 2014
Wednesday, 17 September 2014
Alcohol
Ask
most people to name things associated with Russia then vodka and/ or alcohol
are going to be high up on that list. This isn’t helped by those who remember Boris Yeltsin ‘leading by
example’ as president, which included him standing
outside the White House in his underwear trying to hail a cab to go for a
pizza! So, I thought I’d take a look at whether this stereotype was fair or
not.
refreshing... |
Sunday, 14 September 2014
It’s salad, Jim, but not as we know it.
When I grew up in the north of England, salad wasn’t unusual
but it certainly was unspectacular. I’m not saying I’m common but salad was a
couple of leaves of round lettuce, a tomato sliced into six and five or six
slices of cucumber. The seasoning was salt. Posh people poured drizzled dressings
over it. We didn’t, so salad for us was purely vegetables. In contrast...
Mushroom meadow |
Wednesday, 10 September 2014
The Beginning
I
don’t remember when my feet began to itch. I never had that sense in childhood
that I wanted to travel the world, only a slightly peculiar interest in looking
at maps and learning countries’ capitals.
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