"And why are you here?!"

A wooden house in Siberian autumn

It is becoming increasingly clear how rare foreigners are here. I apparently ‘look foreign’ and therefore am the subject of a lot of staring from confused looking Russians. Often they will stop me and ask where I am from and more importantly why I am in Tomsk, or Siberia even. They are all genuinely interested and very friendly, and find it quite surprising that a British girl would chose to study here. Every time I reel off a list of reasons:  studying Russian at Tomsk State University, the excitement of living in freezing cold Siberia and the different culture.

At the moment, the different culture is the most exciting topic, and I can’t say much about the weather since the harsh Siberian winter has not arrived yet and instead it rains every day.

1- Gold teeth. It may seem like some sort of cliché that Russians have gold teeth, but it is absolutely true, they’re everywhere and appear when you least expect them. One day we were trying to find a sports centre which we have still not managed to find (the street names and numbers do not correspond), and we asked 3 people consecutively. Every one gave us a grin of beaming gold nashers, including a boy of about 12 years old (I thought there was generation of gold teeth bearers but apparently not). Then whilst sitting on the ‘matrushka’ one afternoon(the horrible little buses that are the most efficient way of getting around the city), I sat opposite a husband and wife who smiled at me to reveal two full sets of polished gold teeth. The worst thing is that you cannot laugh, as this could end up in a confrontation where I would literally be lost for words.

2- Clothing. Autumnal clothing appears to range from winter coats to topless men. The babushka with whom I live will not let me out the house until she has checked how many layers I am wearing. She tells me that I simply do not wear enough and I will get ill. As a result, I have to put on half her wardrobe every morning (as my clothes are “just not warm enough”) so that I am let out the door (which I then take off as soon as I am out of sight as otherwise I would turn up at university as red as a tomato). The other morning this reached new extremes. I woke up at about 8am, by which time Tatiana’s friend, Yadya, had already come round. They were both waiting for me to get up and pounced on me as I came out my bedroom door. I was pulled into the sitting room for a lecture on warm clothing and Yadya brought out a large bag in which she found a warm coat which she insisted I borrow, a jumper which she had knitted for me and a matching scarf. This garments had to be put on and paraded around the sitting room where my new outfit was admired. In the meantime they continued to tell me horror stories of people getting colds and going to hospital.

The International Cat Exhibition

In contrast, the clothing worn in bars and nightclubs is quite the opposite. We ventured to a nightclub at the weekend where the stage was home to two girls dancing in sparkly corsets, knickers, knee high socks and diamante high heels. And their dancing could not be described as ‘timid’. If this was not enough, half way through the evening they asked three boys to come up onto the stage with two girls each of their choice. The girls were then asked to strip the boys (they were definitely not men) down to their boxers. This got a great feedback from the crowd, which was heightened by the ‘boys’ then taking off the girls’ underwear from underneath their dresses. Apparently this is totally normal and it is actually quite a well paid and respected job to dance at clubs. I apologise for the lack of photos but there was a photographer at the club and therefore cameras were banned. This policy was strictly upheld by some fierce security guards who made you delete your photos.

Also only at the club did I realise that Russians use different measurements for shots.  One shot in Russia is two shots in England. So the ‘double’ vodka and orange drinks I had been casually drinking were actually the same as Klute’s ‘Quady Vody’. Whoops.

The star of the cat show!

On a tamer subject, we went to the ‘International Cat Exhibition’ on Saturday. This was probably the weirdest event I have ever been to. There were cats everywhere of every shape and size in a large room with a huge chandelier and ornate decoration. Some of the cats were for sale, whilst others were competing in the competitions that were being organised by a fierce lady who definitely considered the event to be as important as a military operation. There was even a competition was for ‘British Cats’. The most amusing sight was the cat owners who dressed like they were cats- flurry gilets to match the fur of their beloved ‘koshka’ and dressed their cats in jumpers.

 

And to finish on a suitably weird fact, apparently Siberian bears are exported to Armenia where they can eaten as a delicacy. Poor bears!