A wing and a prayer

The Siberian Times reports that passengers had to push their plane as it had frozen to the runway at -52°C. There's nothing wrong with that - it's more of a problem when you have to get out to push in the middle of the journey!

Video below.

Disability in Russia

Nowhere's perfect, but the UK has come a long way in terms of increasing access for disabled people, with facilities to work around impairments and the legal right to equality. There's still some way to go here but it's also indicative of the improvements that you don't think twice about ramps in or leading to buildings, notices for subtitles or audio-described films at the cinema, mini, braille signs, wheelchair-sized elevators next to steps in buildings, signs for hearing loops or those knobbly slopes next to crossings and so on.

The differences are highlighted if you go to Russia, where there are far fewer (useful) adaptations...

Kazan: Source

photo of the month

This could be many places in Russia, one of a million courtyards between the blocks of flats - buildings which have a certain uniformity to them.

Tales: contractual problems #1

Samuel Goldwyn is supposed to have said, "A verbal contract isn't worth the paper it's written on." In Russia, the same could often be applied to a written one.

You've got the contract, it doesn't mean you're going to get the cash...

I worked in EFL, teaching English to people who have a different first language. It's fair to say that this profession can attract one or two oddballs, who may not fulfill their part of a contract. Equally, the language school where I worked in Russia did not always deliver on its promises.

Russian Football: Capello's pay woes

News reports suggest that Fabio Capello, manager of the Russian football team, isn't receiving his salary. Hmm, working in Russia and your employers not paying you or not fulfilling contractual obligations... can't imagine that... not!

Capello incognito after a string of mediocre results.

Capello claims that he hasn't been paid for five months. Maybe that's true; maybe his salary is being paid in another currency but linked to the Rouble so it just feels like he's getting nothing in comparison.

Indestructible?

Adler, Russia, 2011

Indestructible?

I'm currently reading Bill Bryson's The Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid, an autobiographical account of him growing up in the US in the 1950s. It's an enjoyable read and humorous in a gentle, self-effacing way that seems in keeping with such an anglophile. Anyway, enough of that tangent... so, I'm sure you're wondering why someone writing about Russia would mention 50s America. This short extract made me think of two periods of my life:

Happily, we were indestructible. We didn't need seat belts, airbags, smoke detectors, bottled water or the Heimlich manoeuvre. We didn't require child safety caps on our medicines. We didn't need helmets when we rode our bikes or pads for our knees and elbows when we went skating. We knew without written reminding that bleach was not a refreshing drink and that gasoline when exposed to a match had a tendency to combust. We didn't have to worry about what we ate because nearly all foods were good for us: sugar gave us energy, red meat made us strong, ice cream gave us healthy bones, coffee kept us alert and purring productively. (pp105-106)

 

It transported me back to two times in my life... the first period was when my face was as bald as my forehead is now, in the UK twenty-odd years ago... days when I used to play outside, jump off walls without thinking about how my knees would cope with the impact, whizz down the road on my scooter and climb trees blissfully unaware of the possibility of falling.

The other time was...

baby food

The Director of Studies and I had to interview a five-year old with a view to her having lessons. The little girl, having lived in Boston, USA, for 2 years had an impressive level of English for her age. Also there were her mother and 6-month old sister. Using a book for prompts, she was asked about her favourite food - burgers. Then Helen asked, “Does your sister like burgers?”