Today started out pretty slowly. It was raining, the temperature was hovering right around freezing, and the whole city was enveloped in a thick fog. The sidewalks were still all icy, and I nearly fell and cracked my head open on the way to the gym at 9:00am. After several days of this dreary weather, one could be excused for feeling a bit lethargic.

But I had a great day. My workout was strong, and it's Wednesday, which means no classes--always a great day. The real clincher, though, was that I got a lucky ticket on the bus this morning. I rarely check for lucky tickets, but this morning I happened to look, and it I was holding an extremely lucky ticket.

What's a lucky ticket? Well this whole custom may have arisen because Russians are superstitious or maybe because the average Russian spends a good amount of time riding public transportation. Whatever the reason, everyone always checks their bus tickets (you always get a ticket from the conductor when you pay for your ride on the bus) for a "lucky" combination of numbers. A ticket is lucky if the first three numbers and the second three numbers add up to the same number. A lucky ticket is especially lucky if it is also a palindrome. So my ticket number, which was 202202, is really good.

What do you do with this lucky ticket? By folk tradition, you should eat it, and afterward you will have some good fortune. I once saw a sign on a trolley in Moscow reminding passengers to keep their tickets until the end of their trip and not to eat them. At the time, I was very confused about why it was important to tell people not to eat their bus tickets, but now it all makes sense. Here is a picture of my lucky ticket. And now it's time to put this whole tradition to the test....

Russia is famous for several things, and foremost among them is its status as a winter country. Russian winter is legendary: It stopped Napoleon and Hitler, and it is impossible to imagine Russian literature without thinking of frigid winter nights. And, while there really are large parts of Russia that aren't very cold at all (the Black Sea coast, the Caucuses, and even some parts of Siberia), everyone thinks of Russia as an icebox.

Russians take winter very seriously, and, given the long history of endless bleak winters spent in drafty wooden houses, the Russian fear of the cold is perhaps understandable. Illness is a huge topic of conversation here, and, if you ask any Russian (and especially any babushka), the cold is the cause of all these ailments. I've been told that I will get a sore throat from not wearing a scarf when it's cold, and walking around outside without a hat is definitely frowned upon. This fear of the cold extends to food and drink too: you will never--and I mean never--find an ice cube in a Russian drink, and cold milk is considered dangerous (it hurts your throat glands); people will generally heat milk up in the microwave before drinking it. Although, by the same token, ice cream is very popular here, so I'm not sure how that all works out logically.

It's been pretty cold here the past week, with high temperatures hovering around freezing. The wind has been whipping, and today we had some nasty freezing rain. Speaking of weather, there has been pretty extensive coverage of hurricane Sandy on Russian TV, and it sounds nasty. A few of my classes even asked me about it today. So maybe it's not so bad to in a country that doesn't have hurricanes, tornadoes, earthquakes, or volcanoes (at least not where large amounts of people live). We just have an infamous winter. 

Here is a song that I've been listening to a lot lately. It's by the legendary Russian rock band Piknik, and the song is called "From a mousetrap" (из мышеловки). I really like this song, and I understand the words, but I'm not really sure what the song means. I could make some guesses at the deeper meaning of the song, but I'll leave that for another time. Here it is: 

The Halloween party was a definite success! We spent all day decorating and preparing, but our efforts were not in vain. We had a good turnout, and the students seemed to really enjoy the party. I don't have a picture yet of the whole group of teachers in our costumes; I'll post it when I do. I went as a Russian sailor, and I must say it was one of my better Halloween costumes. I had a way-too-tight shirt and shorts, a war medal, and tattoos (an anchor and a heart with the word "Mom"). Here's a picture:

This week has been midterms at the American Home, so it has been a kind of strange week. On Monday and Tuesday, we did oral exams, which entailed the students talking about question prompts. At such a low level, of course, it is hard to have a real conversation, but actually things went quite well. Lots of good questions and funny comments, although grammar and syntax suffered greatly. The goal of our program here, however, is an active, conversational knowledge of English, so I would much rather have students who talk a lot and botch all the grammar than students who quietly sit and formulate a few perfect sentences. After all, we Americans will understand the poor foreigner who asks, "Where yours sister is works?" a lot better than someone who stutters around and takes five minutes to say that sentence perfectly.

Thursday and Friday have been for the written exam. I used the stock exam for my level and changed a few details and created three different versions (gotta try to keep ahead of the cheaters). I even gave an almost identical exam to my students as take-home practice last week. Alas, I have four failures already, and I haven't graded my worst class yet. It's very obvious who is putting in effort and who isn't, but it makes me feel bad to see kids leave whole sections of the test blank because they don't know how to pose a question with the present simple or make a comparison (I get a lot of sentences like, "Black coat more gooder white coat."). On the other hand, quite a few of my students have done really well on the exam, and more than five have over 100%.

Anyway, tomorrow is the Halloween Party at the American Home. This is usually the most popular event of the year, so we're really preparing for this party. Imagine 80 Russians crammed into a small house, dressed in costumes, learning to carve pumpkins, going through a haunted basement, and learning all sorts of Halloween stories and dances. Oh ya--it's gonna be quite a day. We teachers will of course be in costume too, but I won't say mine yet--maybe some pictures will get posted in a day or two. 

Today was the first snow here in Vladimir! Here is a picture of the slightly snow-covered garages near my apartment this morning.

Vladimir is a tough place to figure out sometimes. On one hand, it is home to 345,000 people--about the population of Peoria, Illinois. But, having been to Peoria (albeit for about 15 minutes in the middle of the night), I can say that there is way more going on here in Vladimir. Old Vladdy really feels like a pretty big city, and there is plenty to do. For example, one of my students invited me out to a night club on Sunday night; I, of course, agreed, and we bowled for a while and then checked out the dance floor, which was absolutely packed. I'm going to guess that there are no night clubs in Peoria that are bumping at 2am on a Sunday night.

On the other hand, though, Vladimir feels manageable and small. You can get from one end of the city in 20 minutes by car--maybe 10 if you're with a Russian driver (red lights and lanes are mere suggestions). I frequently see the same people riding the bus with me every day, and my Russian friends often run into people they know on the street. So, ya, Vladimir is a little city, but it is a city, not whatever kind of settlement Peoria is.

Disclaimer--I bear no ill will toward Peoria, and, for all I know, it's a wonderful town. Maybe it's even the night-club center of the Midwest....