i lived the book the kite runner. it was one of the first english language books i had bought in ages, after years of living in moscow, budapest and paris. i came over to london on the eurostar for my interview for the phd programme i am now in. after the interview i had some time to kill, but not enough to do anything particularly exciting, so i wandered into a book shop, and took advantage of one of the english 3 for 2 deals. one of the books i choose, and the first i read, was the kite runner.
years later, it is still on the 3 for 2 offer, and has held that slot for longer than any book i can think of, with the possible exception of the life of pi. it is one of those books i recomend evey time someone comes in and asks what on earth to buy (although often when i suggest it, they have already read it)
so it was with great expectations that i went off to see the film yesterday evening. the last film adaptation i saw, northern lights/ the golden compass, was pretty bad, so i was a bit worried this would be another disappointing rendidion of a much loved book. but on the whole i liked the film. i LOVED that the film used afghan actors speaking their own language, as i had been dreading some american version with actors speaking in bad accents (like so many "set in russia" films i have endured). i was also happy to note taht many people in england are willing to show up to a film with subtitles. the film had some really gripping parts and the child actors were very good. it also gave a graphic view of how a country can go to hell in a very short period of time. the film/ book begin in the late 70s, where part of the society at least live in a westernised world of rock music, bell bottems, whisy and pool parties. when the main character, amir, returns in 2000, the taliban have created a surreal atmosphere of paranoia and fear. kabul is in ruins, children run part naked on the streets, the trees have all been burnt down, and the houses are alll falling apart. in 20 years the place had become unrecogonisable.
this transition was demonstrated effectively by the film, providing a shocking visual manifestation of collapse.....but i still prefered the book. the film was good, but there is nothing like a satisfying read....
29.12.07
26.12.07
christmas is over, finally
i suppose most british people enjoy the christmas season: it is a chance to have a holiday from work, overeat, get gifts and see their family....but not if you work in retail!
christmas is the busiest time of year: sales in novemeber and december are basically the same as the rest of the year combined, so there is really no way to underestimate the seasons importance. i have been doing overtime since the start of november, and only next week, when the sale maddness is behind will things begin to get back to normal. by the end of january, the place will be almost dead, and it will stay that way at least until summer.
in some ways i dont mind the christmas rush, we are all so busy taht there is no time to get bored. on the other hand, people get angry and agressive as the get stressed and closer to the big day: they shout, make ridiculous demands and throw tantrums like little kids.authors come in to do signings practically every other day. ian mcewan was very nice (signing a copy of atonement for my aunt) and jamie oliver was an utter twat, arriving once again with an entourage of 15 people, all to sign his beek about how to lead the good and "simple" life out in the country. somehow i doubt a man who needs a squad to sign books grows his own veg, but anyway....
nigella lawson was not much better, but then i didnt have high hopes.....
despite all the endless shifts, i have somehow been reading alot. this is partly since i have had loads of free books dumped on me, but also due to the new place where i live, which is an uninterupted ride from where i work, giving me a good chuck of non-degree related reading every night as i head home.
i finally read No Mean City, the novel of the gorbals, the slum my father was born in. actually the book was published shortly after his birth and is set at just that time: the depression. it was pretty grim stuff, a tale of fighting, drinking and not having indoor plumbing. my parents took me once to see that part of glasgow, and i do have vague memories of such things, but by that time things had already been massively renovated, although the area still looked grim....when i told my dad i had been reading the book, he insisted that although his family had been poor they still more respectable than those in the novel! i guess everything is relative, even in poverty.
from there i moved on to reading some journalistic biographies set in zimbabwe: house of stone by christina lamb and mukiwa and when a crocodile eats the sun, by peter godwin. grim all over again with regards to the present state of things there, although the parts that intrigued me the most were the details of how white people there lived in the 60s and 70s: basically like immune gods. it was fascinating and sickening at the same time.
continueing the biography/memoir theme, i read the latest book by isabel allende, suma de los dias. i wasnt too impressed. it seemed to be trying to cash in on the (deserved) popularity of paula, but without the self reflection. there was also a bit too much self satisfaction in there...although there were a few juicy sections, such as allende's daughter in law becoming a lesbian...but at a certain point i have to ask myself: do i care?
so in such a way i spent my christmas: curled up in bed, reading free books. i cant really complain.
christmas is the busiest time of year: sales in novemeber and december are basically the same as the rest of the year combined, so there is really no way to underestimate the seasons importance. i have been doing overtime since the start of november, and only next week, when the sale maddness is behind will things begin to get back to normal. by the end of january, the place will be almost dead, and it will stay that way at least until summer.
in some ways i dont mind the christmas rush, we are all so busy taht there is no time to get bored. on the other hand, people get angry and agressive as the get stressed and closer to the big day: they shout, make ridiculous demands and throw tantrums like little kids.authors come in to do signings practically every other day. ian mcewan was very nice (signing a copy of atonement for my aunt) and jamie oliver was an utter twat, arriving once again with an entourage of 15 people, all to sign his beek about how to lead the good and "simple" life out in the country. somehow i doubt a man who needs a squad to sign books grows his own veg, but anyway....
nigella lawson was not much better, but then i didnt have high hopes.....
despite all the endless shifts, i have somehow been reading alot. this is partly since i have had loads of free books dumped on me, but also due to the new place where i live, which is an uninterupted ride from where i work, giving me a good chuck of non-degree related reading every night as i head home.
i finally read No Mean City, the novel of the gorbals, the slum my father was born in. actually the book was published shortly after his birth and is set at just that time: the depression. it was pretty grim stuff, a tale of fighting, drinking and not having indoor plumbing. my parents took me once to see that part of glasgow, and i do have vague memories of such things, but by that time things had already been massively renovated, although the area still looked grim....when i told my dad i had been reading the book, he insisted that although his family had been poor they still more respectable than those in the novel! i guess everything is relative, even in poverty.
from there i moved on to reading some journalistic biographies set in zimbabwe: house of stone by christina lamb and mukiwa and when a crocodile eats the sun, by peter godwin. grim all over again with regards to the present state of things there, although the parts that intrigued me the most were the details of how white people there lived in the 60s and 70s: basically like immune gods. it was fascinating and sickening at the same time.
continueing the biography/memoir theme, i read the latest book by isabel allende, suma de los dias. i wasnt too impressed. it seemed to be trying to cash in on the (deserved) popularity of paula, but without the self reflection. there was also a bit too much self satisfaction in there...although there were a few juicy sections, such as allende's daughter in law becoming a lesbian...but at a certain point i have to ask myself: do i care?
so in such a way i spent my christmas: curled up in bed, reading free books. i cant really complain.
17.12.07
one down
part of the reason i havent written much in the past month is that i have been stuck with three jobs. i was unfortunate, they just happened to all overlap, and i couldnt do much about it, especially as i need the money and experience.
but today i handed in my final grades at ucl, so i am no longer teaching there, and left with only two jobs. thank god. teaching at the university level for the first time was, of course, an important experience adn i learned alot. but i am not really sure this is what i want to do with my life, adn if anything it has motivated me to explore my options in others fields. the kids werent bad kids, they were just very uninformed and unsure what they were doing at university. it seems british kids go to university as it is expected of them, at least if they come from the middle class, which most of them do. they are essentially there cause mummy and daddy would not have allowed anything else, btu that is the only reason. i had a handful who were clearly the first in their families to pursue higher education, adn those kids worked harder than the average. there were also a few who were generally interested in the subject matter....but i think i could count them on one hand.
i will give the english credit for one thing: they can write the most amazing sick notes. for example, i got this letter the last week of term, it was forwarded by the department secretary:
I have come down with a bad case of the flu and wont be attending my
> lectures until Wednesday and would like you to notify my lecturers.
> This is because on Saturday night i collapsed three times and in the
> process badly damaged my front teeth, which now have to be repaired.
> The Dentist also mentioned a form that I should be able to collect
> from university so that i can receive free treatment, if possible
> could you send it via an email?
> Many Thanks, X
amazing, isnt it? another student announced he wouldnt be able to make it in as he "didnt have enough money for the bus ticket." i suggested he start walking early, but he didnt take me up on it.
i am starting to think all first years should be required to take a hard and exhausting gap year prior to commencing study....
but today i handed in my final grades at ucl, so i am no longer teaching there, and left with only two jobs. thank god. teaching at the university level for the first time was, of course, an important experience adn i learned alot. but i am not really sure this is what i want to do with my life, adn if anything it has motivated me to explore my options in others fields. the kids werent bad kids, they were just very uninformed and unsure what they were doing at university. it seems british kids go to university as it is expected of them, at least if they come from the middle class, which most of them do. they are essentially there cause mummy and daddy would not have allowed anything else, btu that is the only reason. i had a handful who were clearly the first in their families to pursue higher education, adn those kids worked harder than the average. there were also a few who were generally interested in the subject matter....but i think i could count them on one hand.
i will give the english credit for one thing: they can write the most amazing sick notes. for example, i got this letter the last week of term, it was forwarded by the department secretary:
I have come down with a bad case of the flu and wont be attending my
> lectures until Wednesday and would like you to notify my lecturers.
> This is because on Saturday night i collapsed three times and in the
> process badly damaged my front teeth, which now have to be repaired.
> The Dentist also mentioned a form that I should be able to collect
> from university so that i can receive free treatment, if possible
> could you send it via an email?
> Many Thanks, X
amazing, isnt it? another student announced he wouldnt be able to make it in as he "didnt have enough money for the bus ticket." i suggested he start walking early, but he didnt take me up on it.
i am starting to think all first years should be required to take a hard and exhausting gap year prior to commencing study....
16.12.07
yikes!
over a month has gone by since i last wrote. i dont think i have ever allowed that to happen before.
but then i have been extremely busy and not with good internet access. i have been working like mad, and had several celebrity encounters at my job.
john bolton, bush's walrus-like ex ambassador to the UN, came in the other week, and pitched an absolute fit over where his latest book, pompously titled "surrender is not n option," had been shelved. we put it in american politics. however, he felt that he was an issue of world importance, an should thus be more prominantly displayed. we told him to bugger off, as politely as one can.
needless to say i was delighted to find this review in this week's economist:
http://www.economist.com/books/displaystory.cfm?story_id=10281457
the review fits the man, at least as the man presented himself to us!
on a happier note, Ian McEwan was nice and signed a copy of atonement for my aunt, she will be happy.
but then i have been extremely busy and not with good internet access. i have been working like mad, and had several celebrity encounters at my job.
john bolton, bush's walrus-like ex ambassador to the UN, came in the other week, and pitched an absolute fit over where his latest book, pompously titled "surrender is not n option," had been shelved. we put it in american politics. however, he felt that he was an issue of world importance, an should thus be more prominantly displayed. we told him to bugger off, as politely as one can.
needless to say i was delighted to find this review in this week's economist:
http://www.economist.com/books/displaystory.cfm?story_id=10281457
the review fits the man, at least as the man presented himself to us!
on a happier note, Ian McEwan was nice and signed a copy of atonement for my aunt, she will be happy.
11.11.07
reading week moscow
this past week has been reading week,, which means no classes to teach. i took the week to go back to moscow.
i miss moscow when i am not there and i wish the bloody air tickets were not so ridiculously expensive so i could go back more often. the cheapest direct flight i could find was 300 pounds, so i ended up buying one for 45pounds return on easy jet to tallinn. this at least meant that i got to stop in and see oliver before heading on to russia.
zbig picked me up at leningradskaia and we headed to his gorgeous flat at novokuznetskaia. i cant believe what an amazing place he found. i was extremely tired from several nights of little sleep and my first night in moscow i slept like a zombie. but i dont think it was only tiredness. I had forgot how wonderful it is to sleep in moscow flats in the winter: they are dry and warm and cosy. unlike english ones, which inevitably seem damp and cold, even if the temperature outside isnt that cold, and even if you have on the heat, they are never comfortable. so curled up in zbig's bed, in the nice dry warmth of a moscow winter, i just didnt want to get up! and then my last day i really did not want to get on that train to head back west...to my dingy london flat and my various underpaid jobs....
i miss moscow when i am not there and i wish the bloody air tickets were not so ridiculously expensive so i could go back more often. the cheapest direct flight i could find was 300 pounds, so i ended up buying one for 45pounds return on easy jet to tallinn. this at least meant that i got to stop in and see oliver before heading on to russia.
zbig picked me up at leningradskaia and we headed to his gorgeous flat at novokuznetskaia. i cant believe what an amazing place he found. i was extremely tired from several nights of little sleep and my first night in moscow i slept like a zombie. but i dont think it was only tiredness. I had forgot how wonderful it is to sleep in moscow flats in the winter: they are dry and warm and cosy. unlike english ones, which inevitably seem damp and cold, even if the temperature outside isnt that cold, and even if you have on the heat, they are never comfortable. so curled up in zbig's bed, in the nice dry warmth of a moscow winter, i just didnt want to get up! and then my last day i really did not want to get on that train to head back west...to my dingy london flat and my various underpaid jobs....
23.10.07
flying by
time is going by so quickly i cant get a hold of things. i have been rubbish at keeping this blog up to date, but i dont even notice that weeks elapse without my writing something...i am juggling three jobs at the moment: the bookshop (which pays the bills) the teaching (which is supposed to be good experience) and now a researcher position at another london university. together they pay enough to survive on, but as usual the ones that interest me the most dont pay enough for me to do them exclusively.
to add to the confusion, my own work is done mainly in in serbian and russian, but the researcher position involves cuba and working in spanish. when i have to deal with both in the same day, i become vaguely incoherent, at least to myself.
today i struggled to get up and teach at 9am. the kids seemed in a fine mood: someone named "vanilla ice" signed the register and even drew a large erect penis on the said register for me to admire, presumably. apparently adolesence extends well into the late teens.
to be fair, the kids are not bad kids, most of them just dont want to be in my class at 9am, and i cant entirely blame them for that.they are generally decent, ignorant and very young. i have about 4 who are actually interested in the subject material, which is at least something. in a way, i sort of feel sorry for them. they come to university with all kinds of unfounded expectations, and instead of some wonderful educational experience they get the likes of me. one kid told me every single one of his class is with a phd student. of course we phds are not bad people, but it must be pretty annoying to pay a lot of money for university and not meet any real professors your first year. it also sends the loud and clar message that first year of university in england is a joke, you would have to work at it not to pass. the fact that real professors dont want to teach first year classes, and dump them on all the phds, is an indicator of the first years students last place position in the university priority list. i cant blame them if they get annoyed.
to add to the confusion, my own work is done mainly in in serbian and russian, but the researcher position involves cuba and working in spanish. when i have to deal with both in the same day, i become vaguely incoherent, at least to myself.
today i struggled to get up and teach at 9am. the kids seemed in a fine mood: someone named "vanilla ice" signed the register and even drew a large erect penis on the said register for me to admire, presumably. apparently adolesence extends well into the late teens.
to be fair, the kids are not bad kids, most of them just dont want to be in my class at 9am, and i cant entirely blame them for that.they are generally decent, ignorant and very young. i have about 4 who are actually interested in the subject material, which is at least something. in a way, i sort of feel sorry for them. they come to university with all kinds of unfounded expectations, and instead of some wonderful educational experience they get the likes of me. one kid told me every single one of his class is with a phd student. of course we phds are not bad people, but it must be pretty annoying to pay a lot of money for university and not meet any real professors your first year. it also sends the loud and clar message that first year of university in england is a joke, you would have to work at it not to pass. the fact that real professors dont want to teach first year classes, and dump them on all the phds, is an indicator of the first years students last place position in the university priority list. i cant blame them if they get annoyed.
16.10.07
christmas
in the retail world, the christmas season has begun.
i have always disliked this holiday. i find it pointless and annoying....but in the western retail world it is sadly unavoidable, so much that i think most people here tie the two together: christmas and shopping.
although i am of course aware of all of this i was still surprised in the staff meeting when we were told that the "christmas I changeover" was beginning. this means all the books have to be restickers, and the front of shop reajusted. it also indicated the arrival of loads of rubbish books that british people love to buy at this time of year, no doubt presents for all those people they feel obliged to give something to, but they dont know what. this is the on and only time of year when people start buying humour books in large numbers. (last years hit was "is it just me or is everything shit?" apparently the ideal present for that brother inlaw you have spent christmas with eery year for the past decade and yet still barely know) it addition loads of people have come in for signings, knowing that super expensive signed books will sell now, and no time else. so we have a display with signed eric clapton (50£), jamie oliver (60£) and the life of pi (50£) and other such titles.
the mass of frantic shoppers hasnt arrived yet, just the preview: endless hordes of little old ladies who come in to buy things early. they are inevitably chatty and hae provided us with a whole host of reasons why they are shopping now, 2.5 months before the big day. one told me she was afraid everything would be gone by december. another told my collegue she was afraid she might die before then, and wanted to get he grandkids gifts first (she appeared in perfect health, these ones always do). but i suspect in reality they are just bored, and shopping for christmas gives them something to do, and something to look forward to. that might be the one positive thing about this holiday...
i have always disliked this holiday. i find it pointless and annoying....but in the western retail world it is sadly unavoidable, so much that i think most people here tie the two together: christmas and shopping.
although i am of course aware of all of this i was still surprised in the staff meeting when we were told that the "christmas I changeover" was beginning. this means all the books have to be restickers, and the front of shop reajusted. it also indicated the arrival of loads of rubbish books that british people love to buy at this time of year, no doubt presents for all those people they feel obliged to give something to, but they dont know what. this is the on and only time of year when people start buying humour books in large numbers. (last years hit was "is it just me or is everything shit?" apparently the ideal present for that brother inlaw you have spent christmas with eery year for the past decade and yet still barely know) it addition loads of people have come in for signings, knowing that super expensive signed books will sell now, and no time else. so we have a display with signed eric clapton (50£), jamie oliver (60£) and the life of pi (50£) and other such titles.
the mass of frantic shoppers hasnt arrived yet, just the preview: endless hordes of little old ladies who come in to buy things early. they are inevitably chatty and hae provided us with a whole host of reasons why they are shopping now, 2.5 months before the big day. one told me she was afraid everything would be gone by december. another told my collegue she was afraid she might die before then, and wanted to get he grandkids gifts first (she appeared in perfect health, these ones always do). but i suspect in reality they are just bored, and shopping for christmas gives them something to do, and something to look forward to. that might be the one positive thing about this holiday...
10.10.07
food
i think i have already written some entry like this before, but every time my mouth starts watering and i start getting hungry, this list comes to my mind.
Food I miss in England: London has a good selection of international food and I am greatly relieved that I have found a good Korean place to satisfy my pipinpop cravings. But there are still some things I haven’t found that I miss desperately.
1. grechka: it is the best breakfast, I don’t know why English people cant get that
2. mole: beans and chocolat what could be better???
3. Kefir: the ultimate hangover cure, which given the amount people here drink on weekend binges, should definitely be imported.
4. Tvorog/ turos: I like it in all forms, I like sirki with chocolat around the sides, and I like it in things like buns.
5. Burek od sira. The ultimate food to eat before going out. You will never get a hangover, you will never be hungary. Also good to take on long train rides.
6. Empanadas. Kind of like a Chilean varient on burek, but even better in that you can get them stuffed with so many different things. I have never seen them in London. You can get samosas here, which are good and the same relative size. But it is not the same thing.
7. Hachipuri: mmmmmm Georgian cheese…..mmmm….
8. makos puns. I am not even really sure of the term here in English. The dictionary tells me it is “poppy” but I have never seen a “poppy bun” in English. It is makos in Hungarian and mak in most Slavic languages. It is a black substance that is sweet and good in buns.
9. Kafa/kava: call it what you want, I am not getting into linguistic political correctness here. I miss it.
Food I miss in England: London has a good selection of international food and I am greatly relieved that I have found a good Korean place to satisfy my pipinpop cravings. But there are still some things I haven’t found that I miss desperately.
1. grechka: it is the best breakfast, I don’t know why English people cant get that
2. mole: beans and chocolat what could be better???
3. Kefir: the ultimate hangover cure, which given the amount people here drink on weekend binges, should definitely be imported.
4. Tvorog/ turos: I like it in all forms, I like sirki with chocolat around the sides, and I like it in things like buns.
5. Burek od sira. The ultimate food to eat before going out. You will never get a hangover, you will never be hungary. Also good to take on long train rides.
6. Empanadas. Kind of like a Chilean varient on burek, but even better in that you can get them stuffed with so many different things. I have never seen them in London. You can get samosas here, which are good and the same relative size. But it is not the same thing.
7. Hachipuri: mmmmmm Georgian cheese…..mmmm….
8. makos puns. I am not even really sure of the term here in English. The dictionary tells me it is “poppy” but I have never seen a “poppy bun” in English. It is makos in Hungarian and mak in most Slavic languages. It is a black substance that is sweet and good in buns.
9. Kafa/kava: call it what you want, I am not getting into linguistic political correctness here. I miss it.
9.10.07
generation 1989
How do you teach history, and what is the time frame of what you can expect people to know?
I felt old today. i am meant to be teaching historical research methods to two classes of 18 year olds. For the occasion, I have given them each a different east European city, which they will be studying the whole term. I chose smaller cities, to force them to dig around a bit more for material.
On the first class, none of them had heard of the cities I assigned to them. Today their assignment was to, in small groups, tell the others what they had found out about their place. Every single kid had used the same “source”: wikipedia.
This was fine, in fact it was what I expected. So then I took them to the computer lab and gave them 15 minutes to check their city out on a digital journal database, followed by another 15 minutes looking at the times digital archive. Then I asked them what they had learned flipping through.
Tom: “dude, there was like a war in mostar and they killed lots of people and blew up a bridge.”
Alex: “no way man, there was a war in Dubrovnik too, these other guys called serbs bombed the whole fucking place.”
Sylvia: “there was like a revolution in my city!” (timisoara)
Paul: “there are FOUR football teams in Sofia!”
I was at first surprised that this was news: I remember all of these events happening quite clearly. But then I calculated that my entire class was born in 1989. They were infants when the berlin wall fell, some of them weren’t even born yet. They were toddlers during the Bosnian war. Their first historical memory is iraq. They are a totally different generation.
I felt old today. i am meant to be teaching historical research methods to two classes of 18 year olds. For the occasion, I have given them each a different east European city, which they will be studying the whole term. I chose smaller cities, to force them to dig around a bit more for material.
On the first class, none of them had heard of the cities I assigned to them. Today their assignment was to, in small groups, tell the others what they had found out about their place. Every single kid had used the same “source”: wikipedia.
This was fine, in fact it was what I expected. So then I took them to the computer lab and gave them 15 minutes to check their city out on a digital journal database, followed by another 15 minutes looking at the times digital archive. Then I asked them what they had learned flipping through.
Tom: “dude, there was like a war in mostar and they killed lots of people and blew up a bridge.”
Alex: “no way man, there was a war in Dubrovnik too, these other guys called serbs bombed the whole fucking place.”
Sylvia: “there was like a revolution in my city!” (timisoara)
Paul: “there are FOUR football teams in Sofia!”
I was at first surprised that this was news: I remember all of these events happening quite clearly. But then I calculated that my entire class was born in 1989. They were infants when the berlin wall fell, some of them weren’t even born yet. They were toddlers during the Bosnian war. Their first historical memory is iraq. They are a totally different generation.
2.10.07
teaching, again
it is not that i lack for teaching experience, cause i have loads of it. i taught high school english in moscow in 2000-2001. and i have taught in various schools and companies in moscow, paris and cambridge over the past 7 years.
today, though, was my first day teaching at a university, which turns out to be a bit different.
teaching english, what i did before, has its ups and downs. unless you are teaching high school students, the students are generally motivated and anxious to learn, especially when they are paying loads of money for the lessons. sometimes, they are just looking for a shrink to pour out all their problems to (this is especially true with one on one lessons). university is different. the class i teach is obligatory for all first years in the department, so the students have to be there if they want to or not, and since it is increasingly impossible to get a job anywhere without a degree, they have the idea that they have to be in university, or their parents who sent them there had that idea.
furthermore, the class is at 9am, which is asking the near impossible from a squad of 18 year olds (and from me as well!)
so despite all my experience i felt pretty nervous walking into the room today. i had to remind myself that they were probably more scared of me than i of them. but still, it was intimidating to have 30 sleepy faces staring at me for 2 hours. i hope i didnt bore them to death.
today, though, was my first day teaching at a university, which turns out to be a bit different.
teaching english, what i did before, has its ups and downs. unless you are teaching high school students, the students are generally motivated and anxious to learn, especially when they are paying loads of money for the lessons. sometimes, they are just looking for a shrink to pour out all their problems to (this is especially true with one on one lessons). university is different. the class i teach is obligatory for all first years in the department, so the students have to be there if they want to or not, and since it is increasingly impossible to get a job anywhere without a degree, they have the idea that they have to be in university, or their parents who sent them there had that idea.
furthermore, the class is at 9am, which is asking the near impossible from a squad of 18 year olds (and from me as well!)
so despite all my experience i felt pretty nervous walking into the room today. i had to remind myself that they were probably more scared of me than i of them. but still, it was intimidating to have 30 sleepy faces staring at me for 2 hours. i hope i didnt bore them to death.
30.9.07
ew!
now the contract for my flat does clearly say "no pets." however they gave us this updated contract AFTER we had paid our non refundable security deposit of several hundred pounds, and there was no way i was going to loose that money, so i just decided to keep qite about the cat a move in anyway. but then friday the landlord announced he would visit the next day (saturday). i paniced. then i called max and pleaded with him to take the beast for the day. he agreed, albeit not to happily, especially as i had to bring the cat over at 7:45 am, before work.
i dropped the cat off, made her a fresh litter box, and filled her bowls with water and her favourite soft food. i gave her half a tin of soft food cause i figured she would be a bit traumatised and not that hungry. but i put the other half on the tin in the fridge, and told max he could give it to her if she finished the first half.
max and his girlfriend lika went out to run some errands during the day....and when they came back, daria, one of max's flatmates and a sweet peasant girl from poland, complemented him on his good taste in buying...pate! max asked her nervously which pate she was referring to, and sure enough, it was the cat food. daria had apparently spread it on toast.
max and lika decided not to say anything....
i dropped the cat off, made her a fresh litter box, and filled her bowls with water and her favourite soft food. i gave her half a tin of soft food cause i figured she would be a bit traumatised and not that hungry. but i put the other half on the tin in the fridge, and told max he could give it to her if she finished the first half.
max and his girlfriend lika went out to run some errands during the day....and when they came back, daria, one of max's flatmates and a sweet peasant girl from poland, complemented him on his good taste in buying...pate! max asked her nervously which pate she was referring to, and sure enough, it was the cat food. daria had apparently spread it on toast.
max and lika decided not to say anything....
20.9.07
the book killer
i have been doing a lot of overtime lately, specifically i have been doing "returns." when i have tried to explain to my friends what this means, they have all looked utterly horrified, so i thought i would explain the bad new publically.
the thing is, alot, maybe even the majority of books published every year in the uk end up being destroyed. yes, that is right, they get pulped.
the reason is that too many works are published every year and the publishers print runs which are too large for the demand, on the hopes that whatever book they just printed will actually sell. a book shop (at least the big chains) only pay for the books they sell, the rest are just sitting on the shelf, either waiting to be sold, or taking up space that could be occupied by a book with better chances of selling. and since all those books in the shop are technically not paid for by the shop, they can be sent back to the publisher, and this is often what happens. some publishers only ask for part of the book back (the cover with barcode normally) then the actual inside we toss in the bin. seriously.
so for example, when a book is on offer (like 3 for 2) we order lots of copies since whatever is on that offer has a good chance of selling (since the british public tends to buy whatever is put in front of them, on offer). when the book stops being on offer (which at some point is inevitable) it generally stops selling, leaving us with some 25 copies when we only need 2. the the 23 extras get pulped.
so my job is partly to walk around the shop and find those books that arent selling and send them off to their fate. this is actually a terrible task that no book lover should want to do, but i have to admit i sort of enjoy it. it is a bit like a puzzle or a treasure hunt. many of the ones marked for return have been on the shelves for years with out moving and are often misplaced, so finding them can be quite a complex procedure. it is amazing though, when i am hunting for returns, the time flies by.
the thing is, alot, maybe even the majority of books published every year in the uk end up being destroyed. yes, that is right, they get pulped.
the reason is that too many works are published every year and the publishers print runs which are too large for the demand, on the hopes that whatever book they just printed will actually sell. a book shop (at least the big chains) only pay for the books they sell, the rest are just sitting on the shelf, either waiting to be sold, or taking up space that could be occupied by a book with better chances of selling. and since all those books in the shop are technically not paid for by the shop, they can be sent back to the publisher, and this is often what happens. some publishers only ask for part of the book back (the cover with barcode normally) then the actual inside we toss in the bin. seriously.
so for example, when a book is on offer (like 3 for 2) we order lots of copies since whatever is on that offer has a good chance of selling (since the british public tends to buy whatever is put in front of them, on offer). when the book stops being on offer (which at some point is inevitable) it generally stops selling, leaving us with some 25 copies when we only need 2. the the 23 extras get pulped.
so my job is partly to walk around the shop and find those books that arent selling and send them off to their fate. this is actually a terrible task that no book lover should want to do, but i have to admit i sort of enjoy it. it is a bit like a puzzle or a treasure hunt. many of the ones marked for return have been on the shelves for years with out moving and are often misplaced, so finding them can be quite a complex procedure. it is amazing though, when i am hunting for returns, the time flies by.
15.9.07
the beach
i first bought the beach (the novel, by alex garland) around the time it came out. i was around 18 at the time, and i completely identified with richard, the hero. like him, i spent a lot of my teens travelling to odd destinations, derooting myself from all people and places. richards pull is south east asia, mine was more south america, but as in his case, there were times where i got myself so lost in oblivion i wasnt sure where i was or what i was doing there, and there were sinister people and dark moments that punctured the "holiday"in technicaly sunny places. i use "holiday"in brackets since that is not really what it ever was in my case, unlike in richard's.
i remember buying the beach while passing through heathrow airport in transit, probably between moscow and montreal, the places where i was supposed to be living in those days. that was about 10 years ago, before domodedovo opened. back then, british airways still flew out of sheremetevo II, and they had this wierd schedule if you were trying to get to north america. you left moscow in the early evening, arrived in london in the early evening (thanks to the time difference), spent the night in a dodgy hotel attached to the airport (which you couldnt leave, as you hadnt gone throught british border control, which i suppose explains the barbed wire i dont think i imagined seeing). then the next morning a hotel alarm woke you and you went back to terminal 4 to continue on to canada. i was always grateful i got off in montreal. once that plane reached the western hemisphere, it became something like a bus in the sky, stopping at carious canadian cities along the way. after montreal was toronto, and i forget what came next. so i bought the beach at one of those airport bookshops (wh smith? waterstones?) and took it with me to the airport hotel to pass the time. i remeber ready it over the cheap "continental"breakfast we were given for lunch. it lasted me until dorval airport, and i was pleased.
after that, the film came out. i went to see it and was totally disappointed, that film really sucked despite having an all star cast. maybe the book just cant be adapted to film, although i blame the bad script. the film mixed my memories, and i forgot about the book.
but the book hasnt gone away, it is still a big sucess in the publishing industry, i know that now. when all the booksellers in my company were asked to choose their top books of the past 25 years, it made it easily into the top 25, alongside gabriel garcia marquez and margaret atwood. then recently penguin (the publisher) decided to realise a special edition series of books commemorating their anniversary (i forget which one...75 maybe?). the choose 36 titles and republished them in the original old-school format. and of all the "significant"works of the better part of the past century, they choose the beach. and then nostalgia overwealmed me and i had a sudden desire to see if 10 years later the book still impresses me as it did, or if it was just part of my teenage phase.
but no, the book is amazing...to me at least. i could see why someone else wouldnt like it, but i again read it nearly in one night.
and now i will put it one my shelf, maybe for another 10 years...we shall see.
i remember buying the beach while passing through heathrow airport in transit, probably between moscow and montreal, the places where i was supposed to be living in those days. that was about 10 years ago, before domodedovo opened. back then, british airways still flew out of sheremetevo II, and they had this wierd schedule if you were trying to get to north america. you left moscow in the early evening, arrived in london in the early evening (thanks to the time difference), spent the night in a dodgy hotel attached to the airport (which you couldnt leave, as you hadnt gone throught british border control, which i suppose explains the barbed wire i dont think i imagined seeing). then the next morning a hotel alarm woke you and you went back to terminal 4 to continue on to canada. i was always grateful i got off in montreal. once that plane reached the western hemisphere, it became something like a bus in the sky, stopping at carious canadian cities along the way. after montreal was toronto, and i forget what came next. so i bought the beach at one of those airport bookshops (wh smith? waterstones?) and took it with me to the airport hotel to pass the time. i remeber ready it over the cheap "continental"breakfast we were given for lunch. it lasted me until dorval airport, and i was pleased.
after that, the film came out. i went to see it and was totally disappointed, that film really sucked despite having an all star cast. maybe the book just cant be adapted to film, although i blame the bad script. the film mixed my memories, and i forgot about the book.
but the book hasnt gone away, it is still a big sucess in the publishing industry, i know that now. when all the booksellers in my company were asked to choose their top books of the past 25 years, it made it easily into the top 25, alongside gabriel garcia marquez and margaret atwood. then recently penguin (the publisher) decided to realise a special edition series of books commemorating their anniversary (i forget which one...75 maybe?). the choose 36 titles and republished them in the original old-school format. and of all the "significant"works of the better part of the past century, they choose the beach. and then nostalgia overwealmed me and i had a sudden desire to see if 10 years later the book still impresses me as it did, or if it was just part of my teenage phase.
but no, the book is amazing...to me at least. i could see why someone else wouldnt like it, but i again read it nearly in one night.
and now i will put it one my shelf, maybe for another 10 years...we shall see.
13.9.07
guests
jeremy showed up in london. i hadnt seen the guy in nearly 4 years. it is really amazing how time flies. he is here for a few days only and making the most of it. so even though i am in the painful process of editing my latest chapter, i dumped my studies and went off to play tourist. actually that is something i definately dont do enough. i dont feel i know enough of london for the amount of time i have now spent here. and event the places that i do know change so much that i would have to keep going to them regularly to really stay on top of things. the museums do a great job changing around exhibits all the time, so everytime i set foot in, say, tate modern, the place looks totally different.
today jeremy and i did the british museum and the national portrait gallery. i use the word "did'" but actually it is impossible to do justice to those places. they are both so massive and hold so many collections that my mind starts spinning after a few hours nad i cant take things in any longer. but i wanted jeremy to at least see what is here in london. i feel obliged to do touristic justice to whatever city i am living in.
and actually, despite all its enormous problems, london is a good city for tourists. living here it is easy to forget that, and i need the odd visitor from time to time to remind me. the state museums are excellent and free. you can wander in, have a look and leave without feeling you have to see everything and get your money's worth, which is exactly how i feel everytime i go to anything in paris, for example. there are loads of parks and the centre of the city is pretty walkable. plus the natives are fairly benevolent. it is not like moscow where the police see a tourist and immediately dollar signs ring up in their eyeballs. so i enjoy the occasional touristic run of london. i think i need to do it more.
today jeremy and i did the british museum and the national portrait gallery. i use the word "did'" but actually it is impossible to do justice to those places. they are both so massive and hold so many collections that my mind starts spinning after a few hours nad i cant take things in any longer. but i wanted jeremy to at least see what is here in london. i feel obliged to do touristic justice to whatever city i am living in.
and actually, despite all its enormous problems, london is a good city for tourists. living here it is easy to forget that, and i need the odd visitor from time to time to remind me. the state museums are excellent and free. you can wander in, have a look and leave without feeling you have to see everything and get your money's worth, which is exactly how i feel everytime i go to anything in paris, for example. there are loads of parks and the centre of the city is pretty walkable. plus the natives are fairly benevolent. it is not like moscow where the police see a tourist and immediately dollar signs ring up in their eyeballs. so i enjoy the occasional touristic run of london. i think i need to do it more.
5.9.07
at the travel agents
i walked into my regular travel agent today. they already think i am crazy, but i am used to that.
"hello, i am going on a strange trip and i need a ticket, but it is kind of wierd and i dont know if you can do it."
the woman looked at me slightly patronizingly and asked what the ticket was. when i told her i wanted a mercosur air pass to get me to chile via paraguay and that i would be making my way to rio via the falklands...she asked me to come back the next day, as apparently she needed to speak to a manager.
i am looking forward to this latest strange plot in my head. my dad and i are going off on this odd trek together, and he has already got his maps out and is pouring through his old spanish grammar books. that is what i like most about travel actually: planning it and preparing for it is half the fun.
"hello, i am going on a strange trip and i need a ticket, but it is kind of wierd and i dont know if you can do it."
the woman looked at me slightly patronizingly and asked what the ticket was. when i told her i wanted a mercosur air pass to get me to chile via paraguay and that i would be making my way to rio via the falklands...she asked me to come back the next day, as apparently she needed to speak to a manager.
i am looking forward to this latest strange plot in my head. my dad and i are going off on this odd trek together, and he has already got his maps out and is pouring through his old spanish grammar books. that is what i like most about travel actually: planning it and preparing for it is half the fun.
28.8.07
susan sontag goes biserk
funny the things people get obsessed about.
there is a woman who comes every day to the national library. my friends and i call her the susan sontag look alike as it seems she is delibrately cultivating such an image (long grey hair with one streak of black in the middle, dresses as badly as possible etc). i have walked by her desk a few times from which i have deduced she must be studying on the indian caste systems...or something like that, based on the books on her desk.
anyway, she always sits in the EXACT same seat everyday, and she arrives exactly at opening in order to secure that spot, which she holds for herself until closing. but today her world was turned upside down.
i was sitting in a seat of my own (choosen randomly) when i heard a loud, animal like growling sound coming from behind me, i turned around to see the womans eyes blazing and her nostrils flairing. i followed her gaze to see what caused this fury and sure enough, the unthinkable had happened, she arrived 10 minutes after opening, and someone had taken her seat!! she flipped, stormed over to the guy (no doubt a first time user) and demanded he move....but his english was apparently dificient as he kept raising his hands in confusion and gesturing with confused raised eyebrows. finnally she sat in another seat and preceded to slap her documents on the desk loudly. a proper freak show.
i hope this isnt what happens to people if they spend too much time in libraries, if i start doing things like that, someone please hit me. hard.
there is a woman who comes every day to the national library. my friends and i call her the susan sontag look alike as it seems she is delibrately cultivating such an image (long grey hair with one streak of black in the middle, dresses as badly as possible etc). i have walked by her desk a few times from which i have deduced she must be studying on the indian caste systems...or something like that, based on the books on her desk.
anyway, she always sits in the EXACT same seat everyday, and she arrives exactly at opening in order to secure that spot, which she holds for herself until closing. but today her world was turned upside down.
i was sitting in a seat of my own (choosen randomly) when i heard a loud, animal like growling sound coming from behind me, i turned around to see the womans eyes blazing and her nostrils flairing. i followed her gaze to see what caused this fury and sure enough, the unthinkable had happened, she arrived 10 minutes after opening, and someone had taken her seat!! she flipped, stormed over to the guy (no doubt a first time user) and demanded he move....but his english was apparently dificient as he kept raising his hands in confusion and gesturing with confused raised eyebrows. finnally she sat in another seat and preceded to slap her documents on the desk loudly. a proper freak show.
i hope this isnt what happens to people if they spend too much time in libraries, if i start doing things like that, someone please hit me. hard.
23.8.07
updates
i have been very bad and i havent written anything in ages. i do have a good excuse though: i finnally moved house this past week, which means NO MORE WALTHAMSTOW! thank god!
i am now in the process of resettling into my new flat located a nice 30 minute bus ride from work, yeah!
the cat is still having difficulty ajusting but i hope she will settle down in the next few days, paws crossed! i meanwhile still need to buy the last few things and then i will start to feel that i have a new home.
i am now in the process of resettling into my new flat located a nice 30 minute bus ride from work, yeah!
the cat is still having difficulty ajusting but i hope she will settle down in the next few days, paws crossed! i meanwhile still need to buy the last few things and then i will start to feel that i have a new home.
9.8.07
hooligans
i dont know what it is with this country (england) and its hooligan children. it is really strange, there are so many of them and they behave in a violent and pointless manner i have never seen anywhere else.
yesterday 2 boys came into the bookshop. at some moment, one of them (who was about 9) pushed my collegue, a petite german girl. she looked at him for an explanation, and he said sarcastically that it was an accident. she continued what she was doing. then the boy and his friend (who was about 12) started throwing books of the shelf and onto the floor. at that point my collegue asked them to leave. they spat in her face. she began ushering them out, but even at the front door, with everyone watching, they were throwing things off tables and on the ground, shouting abuse and obscenities. outside the shop, they started laughing and walked off.
this sort of thing seems to happen all the time here. you see it alot on the bus. a few months back a bunch of similar young kids jumped on top of me as i was getting of the bus so that i fell and ripped my trousers. they, again, laughed and ran off. it is quite difficult to do anything. technically the boys in the shop didnt commit a crime (they didnt destroy or steal anything) but they just behave atrociously, and seemingly for absolutely no reason.
of course there are kids who behave badly everywhere, in all countries, but it is this last point that particularly bothers me here: there never seems to be any reason for their behaviour other than maybe boredom. it is one thing to start a fight over some grevance, real or imagined, but these kids seem to do it as a sport. the other thing that is striking is that they are always very young, like 10-16, always white and "ethnically" british, and always seemingly constantly unacompanied. when these guys came into the bookshop it was already after 8pm. what were a 9 and a 12 year old doing cruising the west end alone at that hour anyway? where the hell were their parents? my german collegue and i posed these questions in bewilderment to our head of security, MD. he just laughed at us. "just imagine" he said "you call the parents in here, they will be younger than both of you cause they had the kids at 15, they will be smoking and drinking and fucking a different guy every night...you think they have time to look after those kids?"
scary thought.
yesterday 2 boys came into the bookshop. at some moment, one of them (who was about 9) pushed my collegue, a petite german girl. she looked at him for an explanation, and he said sarcastically that it was an accident. she continued what she was doing. then the boy and his friend (who was about 12) started throwing books of the shelf and onto the floor. at that point my collegue asked them to leave. they spat in her face. she began ushering them out, but even at the front door, with everyone watching, they were throwing things off tables and on the ground, shouting abuse and obscenities. outside the shop, they started laughing and walked off.
this sort of thing seems to happen all the time here. you see it alot on the bus. a few months back a bunch of similar young kids jumped on top of me as i was getting of the bus so that i fell and ripped my trousers. they, again, laughed and ran off. it is quite difficult to do anything. technically the boys in the shop didnt commit a crime (they didnt destroy or steal anything) but they just behave atrociously, and seemingly for absolutely no reason.
of course there are kids who behave badly everywhere, in all countries, but it is this last point that particularly bothers me here: there never seems to be any reason for their behaviour other than maybe boredom. it is one thing to start a fight over some grevance, real or imagined, but these kids seem to do it as a sport. the other thing that is striking is that they are always very young, like 10-16, always white and "ethnically" british, and always seemingly constantly unacompanied. when these guys came into the bookshop it was already after 8pm. what were a 9 and a 12 year old doing cruising the west end alone at that hour anyway? where the hell were their parents? my german collegue and i posed these questions in bewilderment to our head of security, MD. he just laughed at us. "just imagine" he said "you call the parents in here, they will be younger than both of you cause they had the kids at 15, they will be smoking and drinking and fucking a different guy every night...you think they have time to look after those kids?"
scary thought.
7.8.07
london update
i really should be working on my next chapter of my thesis. but i ahve had lots of distractions lately, and not all of them related to work or harry potter.
finnally, i found a new flat so i will be moving in a couple of weeks. thank god. there was a really gruesome murder on my street a few days back...and well....enough said.
other than that, caitlin and yuri have just relocated to london. so i have been hanging out with them. they have a nice place in south kensington, and instead of sitting in the library all the time like a good phd student, i have been going around to museums with caitlin and drinking in their flat.
yesterday we wandered throught the V&A and friday we went to the exhibit on mega cities that is currently on at tate modern. that was really cool. i loved the airal views of mumbai, london, cairo, johannesburg and tokyo. and their were some really great photos from each of those places....plus a video on toilets in mumbai, which having experienced them close up, proved only to be too accurate. i like mega cities, i have always operated on the assumption the larger and smellier the better. i think that is why i love mumbai so much when i was there. or moscow or istambul or cairo. i know i am alone in this view, but parks and green space make me really nervous and uncomforatble. i am sure i suffer from some strange syndrom....but anyway, if you are in london and get a chance to see it, go, it is worth it!
finnally, i found a new flat so i will be moving in a couple of weeks. thank god. there was a really gruesome murder on my street a few days back...and well....enough said.
other than that, caitlin and yuri have just relocated to london. so i have been hanging out with them. they have a nice place in south kensington, and instead of sitting in the library all the time like a good phd student, i have been going around to museums with caitlin and drinking in their flat.
yesterday we wandered throught the V&A and friday we went to the exhibit on mega cities that is currently on at tate modern. that was really cool. i loved the airal views of mumbai, london, cairo, johannesburg and tokyo. and their were some really great photos from each of those places....plus a video on toilets in mumbai, which having experienced them close up, proved only to be too accurate. i like mega cities, i have always operated on the assumption the larger and smellier the better. i think that is why i love mumbai so much when i was there. or moscow or istambul or cairo. i know i am alone in this view, but parks and green space make me really nervous and uncomforatble. i am sure i suffer from some strange syndrom....but anyway, if you are in london and get a chance to see it, go, it is worth it!
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