Teaching English in Russia. Helping Russians use the language they study for 10 years!

     I get tired of reading about people not keeping up with their blogs. I get more tired of writing about it! Yes, it has been forever. I would like to say it has been because I've been negotiating movie deals for both my books. Sadly, this is not the case. While I was recently in Hollywood, no upcoming deal is on the horizon.

     I have been enjoying retirement and relaxing. The latest book Redemption's Bullet is doing well and getting some good reviews. It went high on Amazon's reading lists a few times and I am glad people are enjoying it. So I got a little lazy! Hey, I am over fifty now, and while I feel like thirty, this is the reality! I also got a little bored. I left Russia to visit family and friends over Christmas and was away for a couple of months. I kept in contact with my Russian friends via Instagram and Whats App but it was not the same and I missed home. Anapa. During one conversation my friend Alexi said "My English has become terrible without you! When you come back?" I didn't correct him and say; "When ARE you comING  (future tense and an irregular verb) back." I just said, "Soon my friend. I miss Russia and Anapa."

It is funny how a single conversation can spark an idea.

     This is how the English Canadian Language Club came to be. I thought; I am going to go home and help Alexi and other Russian people understand and use the crazy English language. I have done this before and the three schools in the Republic of Georgia are very successful. Why haven't I done this already in Russia? What was stopping me in the past? Culture and Teaching Methodology.

   The usual teaching style in Russia is very structured and lecture based like in Europe and other areas of Eastern Europe. Grades are important. More so than knowledge. So getting five on a paper is more important than if you used Google Translate to get the five. I understand! I used a calculator in my childhood math classes to get the correct answer as well. My teacher would get angry and say; "You aren't going to be carrying a calculator around with you all the time when you get older are you?" She was wrong! Now I carry around a computer, called an iPhone, more powerful than my desktop unit at that time. But tech programs are not the answer. I should have memorized the tables as taught so I wouldn't have to use my fingers to answer math problems now! English is the same way! Except using Google in English interactions can cause significant embarrassment! I know I've had it happen to me. It's ok as Canadians don't mind being embarrassed, and that brings us to culture.

    Russian people do not like to be embarrassed. They feel extremely uncomfortable if this happens. They avoid it at all costs. So they don't like attempting to use the language they studied for ten years. Because they feel embarrassed when they make a mistake. How many times did brilliant scientists make mistakes before they launched the first man into space? These were Russias BEST minds and the most BRILLIANT scientists in a space race with America. They made many mistakes, but they got Yuri Gagarin into space before the Americans. Perhaps Yuri's famous words "Let's go." best describes the attitude of the people associated with the program!

     I knew coming up with a teaching style, that overcame this would be a challenge. I have travelled all over the world so I understand broken English very well. I tell people not to be embarrassed to speak broken English as it means you speak two (or more) languages. I knew this simple explanation wouldn't get past this cultural hurdle. I needed something modern, fun, and inspiring to get students to start speaking and learning from mistakes. Mistakes that must be made so that you hear the language correctly! English is a musical language. The tone, timber, and inflection communicate as much as the words. Musicians use this a great deal. Eric Captions famous speaking guitar is a good example I will insert the link for you if you want to hear it for yourself. Obviously, guitars can't speak English but if you listen carefully around 43 seconds into the song in the link you can hear: "Do you feel?" The guitar then goes on to say it again, and adds "like I do." It ends with the guitar saying "I want to feel you." This example might be hard for non-native speakers to hear but, it shows how the language can only be truly learned, understood, and used by vocalization.
Peter Framptons-Talking Guitar

     I developed a program that builds on other famous English as a second language (ESL)  programs. I adapted them for Russian students. Russians probably understand grammar rules better than English speaking North Americans. Yes, you read that correctly! The educational system's focus on words, grammar, and sentence structure at the expense of vocalizations means most University students have a better understanding of why a sentence is the way it is. North Americans and Europeans just know what 'sounds right'.  Irregular verbs are a good example. Irregular in common usage means 'out of the ordinary' or 'different than the usual'. A regular coffee is the size most people order and drink. An irregular coffee might be bigger or contain garlic or some other ingredient 'MOST' people don't order. We know in English grammar irregular verbs are those that don't end in d, ed, ied in the past or past participle tenses. So in using the above definition of usual or common, irregular verbs should be the unusual ones. Yet they are not in common speech. Discussion about why the past participial should or should not have the Germanic strong verb may be fine for editors, but it is incredibly boring and uninteresting for the learner! Yes, I could run a class and get students to memorize the more than 300 irregular verbs or just the 223 in common use but this would not be very progressive. The progressive way would be to teach how they sound and get students to hear and understand these sound differences so when they come across a verb they are unsure of they can just say it out loud and hear the correct difference.

Is English really that simple and sound based? Yes, it is! A great example:

MOUSE-----MICE
HOUSE-----HOUSES
GOOSE----GEESE
MOOSE---MOOSE

    Why because of the sound. Sure I could spend an hour of class time explaining that the word came from the Algonquin Native Indian language and in that language and culture many names, or objects, were the same in singular or plural. But it isn't really required reading, is it? English speaking language countries have enjoyed the greatest immigration. So when people came they brought their culture and their language. When a new word worked better at describing something we adopted it. It became English which is why English grammar is so sloppy and difficult, containing more exceptions than rules, or so it would seem. It is also why sometimes Russian speakers recognize the English word because it sounds close to the Russian word. Catastrophe jumps to mind. But English is a crazy language compared to the very precise and accurate Russian language and grammar. But that is what makes it fun and enjoyable to write, talk, and play with. If you hand me a black mouse does it squeak or operate Google translate for me?

So if you want to actually have fun with the knowledge you have studied for ten years, or if you're just getting started my wife Inga has courses for little children, check us out!

    English Canadian Language Club (see how I used the Russian format of English Canadian and not Canadian English...) has classes for all levels of learners. Inga speaks the Russian and English languages fluently, and a few more, and has had incredible success with young students for years. If you are prepping for government EGE, or GIA tests we can help. Business people and adult learners can take advantage of our classes, or one on one (face to face) classes in the evening and weekends. Even if you speak well and want to lose your accent, this can be accomplished, NOW right here in Anapa.

    This immersion progressive and modern teaching style has not been available in Russia outside of major cities that had consulate schools. Even in those cities consulate employees children got the first spaces and only if the school had room would they make spaces available to outside students. Take advantage of this opportunity as we will fill our seat allotment quickly.

A Boring Little Blog With Great Pictures

    Hey, friends, fans, family, and lurkers. I haven’t been updating this blog as much as I should, and while not a great deal of exciting stuff has been happening, I will try to make the boring stuff as interesting as possible.

Still reading? Wow, you people are dedicated.

    I had to make another visa run to Georgia. I hope this is the last one! Not because I don’t like Georgia but doing the 3 x 3 bounce is so old. What is a three by three bounce? This is when I have to fly three hours in one direction to fly back, albeit at a slightly different angle, three hours to Tbilisi. In reality, it is two hours and twenty minutes in one direction and two hours and thirty in the other direction, but that sounds overtly precise and hence boring.

    Georgia was as welcoming as it always is for tourists. I think I am getting used to this sincere and generous welcome past the point of surprise. Not that I am taking it for granted. I would never do that but, I was less surprised when my friend/brother (from another Mother) picked me up at the airport and joined me for a great lunch at the Hard Rock Cafe. We spent the afternoon catching up and enjoying each other's company as if it hadn’t been a week. It had been almost three months.
I returned to the Mais Guest House and settled in for the potential two or three-week process to begin on Monday. While I have found a professional person to do all the filing and paperwork it is always a gamble when it comes to time. I had the weekend to kick back and enjoy some cigars with friends at the Davidoff Cigar Lounge. It was a great reunion, and we all fell back into the comfortable routine cigar smokers have and understand. If you’re not a cigar smoker well, I can’t explain it. We all caught up on current events, and I spent lots of time and effort explaining exactly what is a Donald Trump and how this could have happened in the self-proclaimed greatest democracy in the world. It was very much like watching your high school tough guy get his ass handed to him by a Catholic School Cheerleader Squad for the Georgians. They were kilometers past 'couldn’t believe it' status. I got the impression it shook their faith in the democratic process. To put this into perspective, you have to remember how hard and how many people sacrificed everything to achieve the government they now enjoy. We are not talking distance past events or obscure events referenced in speeches by people they don’t know. No, we are talking individuals who held the very hands of the dying. The ones who lived for months without power, water, and getting bread required a ticket and a trip across town. A city plunged into chaos and lawlessness while staring down the twin barrels of external influencing super powers.
I did as much as I could to explain the electoral college and how that system worked and how the courts would act as a buffer to the more crazy ideas that the Office of POTUS might try to run with. It didn’t go a very long way to reassure, but it did add up to some very good topics to discuss and so the room was lively with the discussion.

   I arrived Monday at the office of my professional paperwork person. I had brought a package of Russian special cigarettes to him as a gift. This is a good thing for foreigners to remember. The act of tipping in North America is standard. But this is not the case in other countries and if you just do the same thing you would do at home you reaffirm the RICH American/Canadian tourist idea. The act of bringing him something from Russia meant I thought of him before I left Russia and carried significantly more impact than just saying “keep the change.” This was my third time filling, or rather watching someone else, complete the paperwork.
    The Russian Consulate is in the Swiss Embassy compound and the line up to get in is a chaotic affair. Line and turns are never as simple as saying they are in London England. When I finally got to the window the lady behind the glass recognized me and smiled and seemed impressed that my Russian had improved as much as it has. She commented my accent is getting better. She then also handed back my paperwork and said I needed to complete it in Russian. I was surprised as the last time she wouldn’t take it completed in Russian.
I returned to my professional, and she was as surprised as I was. So surprised that she pulled out Google Translate to make sure what I was saying was what she understood I was saying. Translation complete we did the paperwork again in Russian and added a photocopy of my last visa to the one containing my identification page of my passport. A new addition to the requirement from last time.
I returned with two sets of applications, one in Russian and one in English. The Russian one was kept, and I was handed back the English one with a sticky note that I could pick up my visa on Friday after six in the evening. I walked out of the office surprised that my visa would be ready in only five days.

    The next week included numerous invitations for supper. Supper in Georgian means a feast. So for tourists, it is important you know that giving time between these invitations is wise. The liver will need at least forty-eight hours of healing. My liver is an Olympic superstar, so I did three of these in a row. Max made a great traditional dinner at his home and brought me home safe and sound. Nodar took me out to a great traditional restaurant and then escorted me back to Mais Guest house. Shalva, Bekka, David, and Zura organized a couple of dinner deliveries to the club, and thankfully the club is a close stumble home. Public Service Notice for Canadians. Georgians may think you can keep up with them when it comes to consumption of Wine and Brandy as a result of my poor judgments. To paraphrase Riddick; “Do not step up if you can’t keep up because you’ll just die.”

I went back to the Embassy on Friday only to find out it was closed.

    I picked up my visa on Monday and booked my return trip to Anapa Russia. Short notice bookings are never cheap, but I was glad I had not booked it ahead of time. The return trip saw Max and his Wife stepping up again and taking me to the airport at one in the morning. Flights from Tbilisi are less than great for connecting to anyplace other than Turkey. So Anapa saw me arrive with zero sleep in twenty-six hours. Home in my bed saw me doing a “just to be safe” two-week detox program. Not that I needed to, or have a problem, but kind of like doing your oil change early because you’ve been doing some hard driving.

    Ever notice how cats are usually sitting alone? They never look lonely. I have this local cat that recognizes me and yet never approaches. In fact, if I talk to him he gives me a look like I just disturbed him from solving Einstein’s issue of gravitational waves. Cats can be like that sometimes, but I do envy their ability just to sit and seemingly enjoy the moment. I love walking in Anapa and routinely walk several kilometers a day. If I try to sit and enjoy a view for longer than nine minutes, I get restless. I need something distracting, like cigar ash falling into my lap or a conversation. This conversation doesn’t have to include anyone else. I am a writer I can talk to myself; it’s on my Writers Guild card. These conversations usually focus on things I need to do, should do, and want to do but can’t. I hate the first and last ones the most. I need to write a blog! Well, we see how effective that one has been.

Today I got to it. The need to do box is at this moment ticked with the proper Government issued pen. The want to do but can’t is still on hold. The center does, after all, hold what the rest can’t.

     I also managed to get my train ticket today to celebrate my Russian Mom’s Birthday. My Anapa friend Lasha was lots of help in this endeavor. If only to confirm it was done right. Luckily he was as the girl messed up my last name. In fairness it is hard. My last name in Russian is spelled KOBE, and so she had dropped the Y and added an E, COVEE. So if you remember your grammar lessons “Drop the Y and add a…” Hardly could blame the girl as in the head it does sound right. Probably would have worked but correctly is better. The trick now will be seeing if the conductor of the train will let me jump ship at the village before Beslan. It isn’t a proper stop, and the train only stops for five minutes for a “mechanical check.” Wish me luck and thanks for reading the boring and mundane.

You want excitement order or download my newest book  Redemption’s Bullet from Amazon!

It Was A Dark And Stormy Night!

     Anapa has me feeling like I am at home. Not only because Anapa is my new home away from Canada. It rained today, in a very non-typical way for this area of the Black Sea. For those readers in Vancouver, it rained as it does at home. In Anapa, the rainstorms are very tropical in nature or perhaps Russian in culture. I don’t write this meaning to be disrespectful. Russians work hard, play harder, and fight furiously. Just ask anyone that has met them in battle. When it rains here, it rains furiously. Inches, or centimeters, of water, fill the roads in minutes. The sky truly opens up and getting caught means getting soaked to your underwear. 

Today, however, it sprinkled politely, like a Canadian rain, all day. Quietly whispering to go home soon or you’ll get damp. Reminding you politely why they sell umbrellas, from vending machines at our international airport. Russian people have asked me if it is true that Vancouver has stores that sell pot, or marijuana, from vending-style machines. I answer truthfully that we do, and when I add the umbrella machines, they are even more amazed at our strange country. But, they add, strange in a good way. 

     I have mentioned it before that Canadians/Americans and some Europeans have a hard time understanding Russian culture and customs. I was just talking about this with my English speaking waitress. I said to her, and now to you, I believe this is because normally when someone has a drastically different culture, they look different. It is a duck with various markings. The WoodDuck knows the Pintail is a duck, and it knows it will prefer to eat in the middle of the lake instead of the reeds. We humans are the same we perceive visual cues that tell us the person is a different culture and might have different customs or behaviors. It prepares us for it. Russians look just like everybody else. Perhaps the women are a little more stunning, and the men a little larger but on the whole the same. I am trying to walk that very fine line between what is and what I perceive, or think. I don’t want to be called racist or anti-Canadian/American. I do want to accurately describe and paint for you a correct picture. Personally, I believe Russian women to be the most physically beautiful in the world. But that is a bias and an opinion. I am after all married to Russian woman. She will say she isn’t Russian as people from Russia tend to identify themselves by where they came from. So someone from Anapa would say they are Kavkaz and someone from Novosibirsk might say they are Siberian. In Canada we don’t share this regional identity in the same way unless one is from Quebec, or perhaps Surrey. 

The sky has opened up here, complete with thunder and lighting. I am writing this enjoying a coffee and incredible chicken wings at my new favorite bar/lounge. I tweeted about this place and posted on my Facebook page. It is called Timer_Lounge Bar. They may not have the beach view my last year's office had, but they have incredibly good food and a larger selection of drinks. If you’re an English-speaking tourist and looking for a bit of a break from the great traditional food Russia has to offer then look up Timer. They have a New York style of cooking, full of flair, elegance, and something hard to find in New York. Farm fresh, non-GMO ingredients sourced less than fifty kilometers away. If you’re one of my Russian readers, then give the place a try. It may be a little expensive, from a local perspective, but you can taste truly world class cooking and international food without flying anyplace. A New York steak without flying to New York. Just don’t cook the meat to well done, as is cultural here!! Try medium or medium rare… It’s safe. Trust me I am Canadian.

     I went to the Market today. In American and Canada, it would be called The Farmers Market. My sister Carol-Lyn loves these types of things and frequently goes in California. Here they are just a part of life. Not really a thing, like in LA, but a regular, historically normal part of Russian life. Everything is natural, fresh, and grown/raised/harvested locally. The people are proud of their products and if you don’t arrive early you won’t get any. A sell out is usually the norm. It is difficult for me as they don’t put the price of things on the product as the regular stores do. SO I had to revert to apologizing for not speaking the language and holding out a handful of coins and small bills. Letting them take what they needed. Did they know I was a foreigner? Most certainly. Did anyone take advantage, and take more than they should? No! How do I know you’re asking? I watch other peoples purchases and get a feel for how much it should be within a few Rubles and watch body language. It is cultural to be kind and honest with strangers in the Kavkaz region of Russia. Perhaps it is the same in other regions? I don’t know as I haven’t traveled there yet. When I do, I will let you know. 

    The rain is pouring now, lightning is flashing brilliantly overhead, and the thunder sounds like artillery. The deck has a few centimeters of water on it, and I am alone. The locals and staff thinking the Canadian is crazy sitting outside under the umbrellas made really for the sun. It isn’t at all cold, and I do love thunder storms. The great thing about being in Russia is I am free to sit outside if I want. No waitress or manager urging me inside, as it is safer. I could get electrocuted, but it is MY choice. No Nanny Nation state sponsored rules oppressing me. The local saying here is; “My Life My Rules” and it is something those that scream about freedom should take to heart. 

The world media was going on the other day about something President Obama said. He commented on something the Donald had said on Larry King about President Putin’s ratings. He compared President Putin’s popularity with Saddam Hussein, remarking that when you controlled the media, it was easy to have great approval ratings. To say I was confused by this statement would be putting it mildly. I have been here in Russia for over fifteen months in the past three years. I routinely watch Global TV Vancouver while I eat my breakfast and usually watch a little BBC at lunchtime. Something I couldn’t do when I was in Thailand. The difference? Media sources are censored in Thailand, currently under a Military Dictatorship, and are not in Russia. So I found it very odd that the sitting President Of The United States would make such a statement. Does he believe the citizens of the USA are stupid enough to believe that in 2016 Russian citizens can't watch, read, and listen to non-Russian bias reporting? All media is bias, Fox News more Republican-leaning and NBC perhaps less so. CBC more Liberal in Canada than Global News Network. But to suggest Russians are like the people of Iraq? It goes along way to confirm this Russianphobia that seems to be running rampant these days. 

     Perhaps I am biased? This could be true. Many of you that read my blog only know me from my fiction writing, and follow along here to see when the next new book is being released. But, many here are friends and family. The other day I read a quote I liked. “The best part of me is I am who and what I am. It happens to also be the worst part of me”. I speak my mind, and when something is an opinion, I tend to say as much. I don’t whitewash the truth, and I don’t engage in propaganda. My political leanings are Socialist, as are many Canadians, and I tend to call bullshit when I don’t agree with something. I exercise my right to free speech. I even called my previous Prime Minister a bad word right here on this blog. So you can take it as a fact that President Putin’s popularity numbers are pretty damn accurate. Statistics being what they are not withstanding. Not everyone I’ve talked to agrees with everything he is doing or perhaps the way he is doing it but they all agree he knows best and here is the big part. They TRUST HIM. Even if they don’t understand the big picture or the endgame, they trust he has the best interests of the country in his heart. That is something for both Canada and America to pay attention to. America is entering an election with many people saying they have a choice between bad, and worse. Canada has five choices, I almost typed three, as two don’t count, and in the end, we vote out a party rather than voting IN the one we want. 

     I didn’t start off with a political agenda for this blog. It just went that way. I guess when you talk about the differences in people and cultures it is bound to happen. Russians ask what other cultures think about them. They are curious about the world outside of Russia, and they know and remember history. So it is natural for them to raise questions and question motives. For example, I recently got asked this question. 

        “When the USSR put nuclear missiles in Cuba it almost started World War Three. Now America is placing the same type of missiles in many countries surrounding Russia. When we did it, we were called aggressive and engaging in brink politics. Now we are being called aggressive again. It is not us placing weapons of mass destruction in other countries.” 

How would you answer that question? I couldn’t come up with anything on the spot and since the question was asked haven’t found a decent answer. Protecting sovereignty in small countries with a nuclear response is kind of like pissing on your Ice-cream cone, so your sister doesn’t eat it.  

Back inside the comfort of the Russian Federation

So after spending a year in Georgia, Inga and I are back in our place in Anapa. The temptation when spending so much time abroad is to compare home with where you are. In this case, it is tempting to compare Georgia with Russia and Georgians with Russians. A little insider travel trip. No one likes when you do that. Where you were is where you were. Now you’re someplace else, and it is what it is. In your head, you are finding similarities or things you like or dislike about the change. It is human nature after all. But, leave those thoughts where they originate. In your head. 

We are once again doing the residency process. It makes it a great deal easier to travel and come and go as required. This was our third time going through the process, so we were well practiced and knew what to expect. All the necessary paperwork was submitted, and I was sent to a nearby city to have my medical exams performed. Six appointments in five different locations. My driver and facilitator spoke very little English but understood if he kept the Russian to a child level we could communicate. It was a great test of my newly acquired and petite practiced language skills. I think he enjoyed the experience as much as I did. He shuttled me around to different clinics in a very VIP manner, attempting to point out historical and interesting sites along the way.

The city is called; The City Of Heroes. I believe it was one of the Forbidden Cities at a time in recent Russian history. Forbidden in the sense that foreigners at one time needed special paperwork to visit. It was a lovely city with lots of public green spaces welcoming families and couples. Fancy and simple architecture mixed in new and old buildings alike. We moved through the city from one clinic to another, and my driver/guide stopped near the harbor for a coffee. Together we looked out over the parked warships, the sun was high overhead, and I could see my guide thinking. He took a sip of coffee and in a series of simple phrases communicated a question. It took eight sentences and a few clarifications by me for him to ask. “Crimea was Russian first. It became something else. Something else that many residents didn’t like. They had a revolution, like the Arab Spring revolution. No one asked who backed the Arab revolution. The people voted. They voted democratically to return to Mother Russia (Mother Russia is expressed in one word Rodina, but has several specific meanings). Why now are American warships in the Black Sea? Is democracy only democracy if America agrees? Why when Russia put nuclear missiles on its territory in Cuba we almost went to war? America now circles Russia with these same weapons, on US Military bases in other countries,  and says it has to as President Putin is aggressive? Aggressive because he backed a democratically elected government in a territory that is 75% Russian? Why do Americans hate us so much?”

This was not an easy series of questions to answer. The general issue being why does America hate Russia so much. The previous questions adding context and situational proof so one could not only answer “they don’t it is just political.” I find myself explaining American politics a great deal more than I like, or am qualified to do. I am not American, but being neighbors and perceived to be similar I get placed into this role. To be short Russians separate people from politics, something Americans don’t do, and Canadians do to a lesser degree than Russians. So when he said Americans, he means the country and governing government, not the people. It is an essential cultural understanding of language. 

I looked at the aging destroyer parked in the harbor, now a museum to The Great War as it is called here. How to answer the question, hampered by my child-like vocabulary? My guide’s expression was communicating he understood my difficulty and the position his question put me in. I pointed to the ship and asked when did The Great War begin? He answered. An answer shared by Canada, Russia, and England. I said; “not if you ask an American.” For America, it started in December. If you Google search in English, this is history. This is the reality. The reality is shaped by those that control and distribute information. Every person fears the unknown. Things that are different create stress. People don’t like stress. Things we don’t know are different and stressful. It is easier to stay inside a box we know than look outside the box into the unknown. I don’t know how to get all these medical tests done. That is stressful. I have to tell you I don’t know. I have to show weakness. I have to trust you to help me. America is the most powerful country in the world. They can’t show weakness and remain seen as such. This hampers their ability to trust. Americans don’t hate Russians, and America doesn’t understand Russia, so they can not trust. My guide shook his head, nodding his understanding of my answer and raised the last sip of his coffee to the hulking warship. “Mira, Di Bok.” I joined him repeating in English “For God; Peace.” 

We retreated to the air-conditioned Audi and headed back up the hill to the next appointment. The next clinic took a blood sample, and I was handed a cup. The nurse pointed to a door when she gave me plastic drinking cup. I went to the door and opened it. It was a toilet. I was unclear of what she wanted and turned to look back at her. She gestured, in a very manly way, what I was supposed to do and said; “50 degrees.” I understood she wanted a urine sample and that I should fill the cup halfway. The door outside found my guide waiting for me. He pointed to an office across the hall and was smiling. I gave him a questioning look, and his smile broadened. “Trust me Canada it is all good. Go there. Do that what doctor say.”  I walked into the room, and an older man was talking with an even older nurse. He smiled and said hello and gestured for me to drop my trousers. The nurse discretely turned and looked out the window. I dropped my pants and regained his gaze. He nodded and gestured for me to continue. I pulled down my underwear dreading what was coming next. The doctor just looked and nodded and motioned for me to get dressed. I pulled up my cloths, wondering what that test was for. My answer came when I rejoined my guide. He was still smiling and with two thumbs up he said “You officially a boy.” 

My tests all came back good. I don’t have Aids, Hep, or any other social diseases. My blood tests didn’t have traces of drugs. I don’t have TB, and my blood pressure was within the ok margin. Oh!, and I am officially a man with proper man junk. So the dossier complete I read and signed all the forms and sent the pile of to Moscow. I will probably have to leave Russia two more times. A quick hop to Georgia at the end of October to get another three-month visa, and then again before my RVP (as it is called here) is decided on. If the decision is positive then I will be free to come and go to Russia for three years, so long as I am not out of the country for longer than 180 days. 

Perhaps it is the overly polite Canadian culture, but I can honestly say everyone I have had the pleasure of meeting in Russia has gone out of their way and comfort zone to make me feel welcome. Even when I was new and made social mistakes, cultural oops’s, these have been ignored. I would like to believe the same would be true if my Russian or Georgian friends tried to immigrate to Canada. But, I have too many immigrant friends that have told me differently. Perhaps infrequent immigration means Russians still have patience left for foreigners and Canadians don’t? I don’t know the answer. But I do know the feeling. So when you hear or see someone new struggling to order a coffee at Starbucks, or get directions for God’s sake help them if you can. The person is stressed, and feels like he or she is standing there with their junk hanging out! 

Back inside the comfort of the Russian Federation

So after spending a year in Georgia, Inga and I are back in our place in Anapa. The temptation when spending so much time abroad is to compare home with where you are. In this case, it is tempting to compare Georgia with Russia and Georgians with Russians. A little insider travel trip. No one likes when you do that. Where you were is where you were. Now you’re someplace else, and it is what it is. In your head, you are finding similarities or things you like or dislike about the change. It is human nature after all. But, leave those thoughts where they originate. In your head. 

We are once again doing the residency process. It makes it a great deal easier to travel and come and go as required. This was our third time going through the process, so we were well practiced and knew what to expect. All the necessary paperwork was submitted, and I was sent to a nearby city to have my medical exams performed. Six appointments in five different locations. My driver and facilitator spoke very little English but understood if he kept the Russian to a child level we could communicate. It was a great test of my newly acquired and petite practiced language skills. I think he enjoyed the experience as much as I did. He shuttled me around to different clinics in a very VIP manner, attempting to point out historical and interesting sites along the way.

The city is called; The City Of Heroes. I believe it was one of the Forbidden Cities at a time in recent Russian history. Forbidden in the sense that foreigners at one time needed special paperwork to visit. It was a lovely city with lots of public green spaces welcoming families and couples. Fancy and simple architecture mixed in new and old buildings alike. We moved through the city from one clinic to another, and my driver/guide stopped near the harbor for a coffee. Together we looked out over the parked warships, the sun was high overhead, and I could see my guide thinking. He took a sip of coffee and in a series of simple phrases communicated a question. It took eight sentences and a few clarifications by me for him to ask. “Crimea was Russian first. It became something else. Something else that many residents didn’t like. They had a revolution, like the Arab Spring revolution. No one asked who backed the Arab revolution. The people voted. They voted democratically to return to Mother Russia (Mother Russia is expressed in one word Rodina, but has several specific meanings). Why now are American warships in the Black Sea? Is democracy only democracy if America agrees? Why when Russia put nuclear missiles on its territory in Cuba we almost went to war? America now circles Russia with these same weapons, on US Military bases in other countries,  and says it has to as President Putin is aggressive? Aggressive because he backed a democratically elected government in a territory that is 75% Russian? Why do Americans hate us so much?”

This was not an easy series of questions to answer. The general issue being why does America hate Russia so much. The previous questions adding context and situational proof so one could not only answer “they don’t it is just political.” I find myself explaining American politics a great deal more than I like, or am qualified to do. I am not American, but being neighbors and perceived to be similar I get placed into this role. To be short Russians separate people from politics, something Americans don’t do, and Canadians do to a lesser degree than Russians. So when he said Americans, he means the country and governing government, not the people. It is an essential cultural understanding of language. 

I looked at the aging destroyer parked in the harbor, now a museum to The Great War as it is called here. How to answer the question, hampered by my child-like vocabulary? My guide’s expression was communicating he understood my difficulty and the position his question put me in. I pointed to the ship and asked when did The Great War begin? He answered. An answer shared by Canada, Russia, and England. I said; “not if you ask an American.” For America, it started in December. If you Google search in English, this is history. This is the reality. The reality is shaped by those that control and distribute information. Every person fears the unknown. Things that are different create stress. People don’t like stress. Things we don’t know are different and stressful. It is easier to stay inside a box we know than look outside the box into the unknown. I don’t know how to get all these medical tests done. That is stressful. I have to tell you I don’t know. I have to show weakness. I have to trust you to help me. America is the most powerful country in the world. They can’t show weakness and remain seen as such. This hampers their ability to trust. Americans don’t hate Russians, and America doesn’t understand Russia, so they can not trust. My guide shook his head, nodding his understanding of my answer and raised the last sip of his coffee to the hulking warship. “Mira, Di Bok.” I joined him repeating in English “For God; Peace.” 

We retreated to the air-conditioned Audi and headed back up the hill to the next appointment. The next clinic took a blood sample, and I was handed a cup. The nurse pointed to a door when she gave me plastic drinking cup. I went to the door and opened it. It was a toilet. I was unclear of what she wanted and turned to look back at her. She gestured, in a very manly way, what I was supposed to do and said; “50 degrees.” I understood she wanted a urine sample and that I should fill the cup halfway. The door outside found my guide waiting for me. He pointed to an office across the hall and was smiling. I gave him a questioning look, and his smile broadened. “Trust me Canada it is all good. Go there. Do that what doctor say.”  I walked into the room, and an older man was talking with an even older nurse. He smiled and said hello and gestured for me to drop my trousers. The nurse discretely turned and looked out the window. I dropped my pants and regained his gaze. He nodded and gestured for me to continue. I pulled down my underwear dreading what was coming next. The doctor just looked and nodded and motioned for me to get dressed. I pulled up my cloths, wondering what that test was for. My answer came when I rejoined my guide. He was still smiling and with two thumbs up he said “You officially a boy.” 

My tests all came back good. I don’t have Aids, Hep, or any other social diseases. My blood tests didn’t have traces of drugs. I don’t have TB, and my blood pressure was within the ok margin. Oh!, and I am officially a man with proper man junk. So the dossier complete I read and signed all the forms and sent the pile of to Moscow. I will probably have to leave Russia two more times. A quick hop to Georgia at the end of October to get another three-month visa, and then again before my RVP (as it is called here) is decided on. If the decision is positive then I will be free to come and go to Russia for three years, so long as I am not out of the country for longer than 180 days. 

Perhaps it is the overly polite Canadian culture, but I can honestly say everyone I have had the pleasure of meeting in Russia has gone out of their way and comfort zone to make me feel welcome. Even when I was new and made social mistakes, cultural oops’s, these have been ignored. I would like to believe the same would be true if my Russian or Georgian friends tried to immigrate to Canada. But, I have too many immigrant friends that have told me differently. Perhaps infrequent immigration means Russians still have patience left for foreigners and Canadians don’t? I don’t know the answer. But I do know the feeling. So when you hear or see someone new struggling to order a coffee at Starbucks, or get directions for God’s sake help them if you can. The person is stressed, and feels like he or she is standing there with their junk hanging out! 

Book Reviews and Plans of greater Adventure

Traveling the world is great. But it comes with some challenges. These are pretty much invisible if you’re just doing the tourist thing. The release of Redemption’s Bullet has made me much aware of these issues. The new website had to be created, and this meant interaction with designers in different time zones. Vision is a personal thing, and the communication of those ideas is a difficult process without the added challenge of doing everything via email. Inga and I are returning to Russia for the summer, and that included the usual hoops of getting a visa to enter the Russian Federation. This was my third such visa application, so I am well versed in the process. Being able to read Russian and understand the sentence structure was a real benefit. ScottDCovey

The book released in Europe first, then America, and finally Canada. I had to stay on top of the timing to ensure no issues in the distribution pipeline occurred. The first review was from a European fan, and it went live in America about the same time it got published in Europe. It took several more days to show up on the Canadian side. But it is there now.

I don’t believe in paid reviews. I have talked about this before but, I think it needs to be mentioned again. Book reviews from reviewers or worse from other authors are deceptive. If a publisher asks one of their authors to review a book by a junior writer how honest can it be? They both have the same boss, and the purpose of the boss’s company is to sell books. So how realistic is the review? I have a few friend reviews on my first book, but each of those people said in the review they were friends of mine. Honest reviews are from regular people that buy the book and post a review. I like this policy that Amazon and Apple has. 

Redemption’s Bullet got a little more exposure this time, and it has a couple of Blog reviews. This helps the book show up in search engines. It helps interested readers find it and me through the new website. I applied the same rules as Amazon’s policy. I didn’t pay for the review. The reviewer bought his copy of the book, and I had no influence on what they wrote. The review is found here.  

http://columbusfriends.org/books/redemptions-bullet/

And here 

http://ebook-gift.com/books/redemptions-bullet/

I will copy and past the reviewers impressions for you inside this blog without any editing as I want it to remain truthful. 

Review of Redemption’s Bullet by Columbus Book Friends.

“The story starts with old sea containers being used as drone flight centers. I liked the description of dirty socks and rotten tulips. Those unique details are what engage me into a story. Another thing that I find interesting about this story is that it's not a "rags to riches" or coming up from the bottom type of story. Instead, the story starts with the character already being a dictator of a country (with much of the press hating him). The inciting incident (the event causing the tension and chaos) is that the 'New World Order' (using USA equipment) attacks this dictator and his family. As you might expect, there is a lot of swearing in this book. I am fine with that. One thing that made me pause for a few moments is that the dialog doesn't seem to be broken up properly. I am used to a style where each person says a few lines, followed by a line break. In this book, you can expect full paragraphs of conversation. That makes several of the characters come off as "chatty". Lucky for readers, such as myself, there is a bunch of action throughout the book. This book does not fail to deliver on action (or hold back on how far it will go)!”

As you can read the review, I take Rhys way out on the curve in this darker series book. It also makes me think; “did I go too far with the countess?”

It is an honest, independent review and I like it. I look forward to the reviews independent fans will post and the ones from friends. Only my family is prohibited from posting reviews. The rest of you are free and encouraged to post what you thought. Good or bad. 

My friend Bekka and I at Davidoff Cigar Tbilisi

On a more personal side, I will be once again attempting to start the resident process in Russia so the current visa is the last visa I will have to apply for. I love the Russian people and the idea of society they share. This doesn’t mean I won't be returning to Canada. I will, I promise. Inga and I have been looking already and have decided on a neighborhood. Past the next four months, our plans are fluid. 

I saw a post on Facebook about a guy who drove a Jeep from Calgary Alberta to the top of Alaska and then turned around and drove to the tip of South America. It was a cool post that embodied the nomadic lifestyle. It gave me the idea of doing the same thing, but harder. Why not Russia? I will pitch the idea to the Russian company that owns the rights to sell Jeeps in the Russian Federation. Inga is game. But, then when isn’t she game to do anything her crazy husband comes up with. The basic idea is to travel from Moscow to Vladikavkaz the southern most point. Luckily Inga can speak that language. Then turn north to Anapa and Crimea. Following the northern edge of the country through Siberia and down to Kamchatka. Finally ending in Vladivostok, we would have to charter a boat to get across to continue the drive in Canada. I think it would be a great trip and an even better sales venue for both Jeep Russia and Jeep Canada. Although I think Americans and Canadians alike will be jealous of the Russian 2.8 turbo diesel. The Jeep that drove the two largest countries in the world. 

This odyssey would tie in well with the piece of NonFiction I’ve been working on. Thinking about how we live life and how most other people live life has gone from comparisons to convictions. When Inga and I were looking at homes in BC, the key ideas were simple, small, and supportive. Communities that didn’t require you to drive to the gym or grocery store. 

Many species migrate. Genetically programmed they pick up and make a journey. We humans used to do the same thing. The First Nations people in Canada were migratory to some extent. It is hard to think that perhaps we are still driven by that biological coding. But if you’re honest with yourself I think you’ll find other examples of these biological drives. Midlife Migration is the working title for this MSS, and it has been fun to write.

It perhaps shows a little to much about the author, But, real confidence is showing up naked and telling people what you think. So while only one person wants to see me naked I think you all like reading about my rather warped sense of the world,  right? 

It's a Beautiful Day in the Russian Neighborhood

     “It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood…” wait this is a Canadian blog written by a Canadian so neighbourhood.   I am getting perhaps a little sensitive to the spelling differences between British, Canadian, and US English for two reasons. One I have many Russians asking questions about it and I recently switched to a new writing platform that has a learning curve. So along with my upcoming Russian test I’ve become a little sensitive!  So today is a break day. No explanations from this guru of English. Now before you toss rocks and say, very correctly, I am most certainly not a pillar of English Grammar let me explain. I am all they have! The wrench you need to change the flat is not half as useful as the one in the trunk, or boot if we were slightly west! So it is on me, and all me. My simple explanation is that the man the created the American dictionary was politically motivated. Mr. Webster perhaps one of the first patriots wanted to set the language slightly apart from the one they had just broken away from. The next line of questioning is why Canada kept some British spelling and not others. Because Canadians are polite is always my answer. This seems to satisfy the inquiring Russian minds. It is true, but I am unsure if it is the truth. But that is another grammatical nightmare.

            One of the issues facing learning all over the world is correct information. While tomes of encyclopedias are most certainly not as easy as Google, they were reviewed by peers. Now I can post something like; Russians are very superstitious people and it will be true because I will hit on Google’s first page. Now in all honesty Russians are a little more superstitious than Canadians, but my own lack of Russian language prevents me from understanding if they actually believe or just culturally observe. My own Mom used to say things like. “Someone close is going to pass away.” When she had a Crow or Raven taping on the window in the morning. Readers of George R.R. Martin will understand the origins of this belief. But she didn’t actually believe it to be a truth.  Similarly, Mr. Rogers was not a Navy SEAL or CIA operator. But some sources on the net say he was. He was a great man and won the Presidential Medal of Freedom, which is the highest award a civilian can receive. See I brought this back around to the start of this tangent. He also worked for a while in Canada and his show was filmed and aired on Canadian television with the incorrect Canadian spelling. I would love to be able to say that my confusion around spelling and grammar was as a result of these inconsistent rules and application but I would be lying. I said as much to a friend David last night when we discussed some stuff around the topic of language. I had to be honest and say I just didn’t pay attention enough in school. So now I get to pay for it by leaning on the Chicago Book of Styles far more often than I should. It slows me down creatively, but then this is what I have this blog for. I get to loosen up a little.

            So today is a break day. While Inga is still helping out friend's children wanting to improve English language skills, I get to hang by the beautiful Black Sea and enjoy the sun. In keeping with the theme; who are the people in my neighbourhood? Let us continue.

   Well to start my day I go to do some writing in the little café under our building. It is a nice little place and quiet. They have free internet, and while it is slow, it is fast enough to check some simple facts before I mislead you all. The waiter is the same guy from last year and we met with a familiarity not uncommon in Russia but would be at home. He asks about my progress on the book and introduces me to his friend a new waiter. This guy is a yoga instructor and comes from the beautiful city of Saint Petersburg. He learned his yoga skills living in a monastery in India and we shared our mutual love of Indian cooking. I told him that we have many people from India living in our area of Vancouver and explained the Sikh immigration to BC.  His English is better than my Russian, but we understand each other enough to make it work.

The walk to the beach finds us going down our usual hill past all the shops that sell everything one might need and could have easily forgotten on the trip to Anapa. At the bottom of the hill is a jovial, fun man with a shiny set of gold teeth who is quick to greet me in the swinging handshake Armenians enjoy. Next door is Irene and the medical post. She is a nurse from the Ural region and makes the eight-day pilgrimage each year to Anapa to protect and take care of the various issues that can happen at the beach. She is a calm and kind woman who is very knowledgeable.

Next to that is the bar that, if you’ve been following my blog for a while you know I like to sit. The owner is another Armenian heritage family that put on an impressive spread of food and cold beer. A little way down the beach finds another café bar that serves hot food and these people are from the Ukraine, although they have been here for years. Inga helps this ladies son with English and I enjoy her cooking.

That is my little neighbourhood. Most of the people I meet can’t speak more than a few words in English and I can only speak a little Russian. But they have made the Canadian feel welcome and take the time to make sure I understand most of what is going on or if not making sure I am included. I may not understand what we are toasting, but all are quick to offer a drink. Russia is an inclusive society that truly revels in understanding a different perspective and culture.

Today I had a guest. David the boy of a Ukrainian family that recently immigrated here joined me in the water. The waves did their best to chase us from the sea with fury and foam. It was a fun afternoon the ended far too quickly for the both of us. Yet, as I sit here in the quiet writing to all of you I feel tired and think I shall need a little Mama’s Cha Cha to ease the pain in the shoulders. No bad days is really more than an idea it is a way of life. If only you are prepared to travel, learn, and leave your bias, behind in the airport parking lot. While it has been many many years since I have seen Mr. Rogers he gave us a truth, perhaps like many things from our youth we have lost or forgotten this truth. The world would be a much better, and safer, place if we all just remembered we are all each others neighbors.

Written by Fred Rogers | © 1967, Fred M. Rogers

It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood

A beautiful day for a neighbor

Could you be mine?

Would you be mine?

It's a neighborly day in this beauty wood

A neighborly day for a beauty

Could you be mine?

Would you be mine?

I have always wanted to have a neighbor just like you

I've always wanted to live in a neighborhood with you

Let's make the most of this beautiful day

Since we're together, might as well say

Would you be my, could you be my,

Won't you be my neighbor?

Back in Anapa Russia and going to school.

       So life finds me back in Anapa and back in kindergarten. It also finds me alone. I see it as a vote of confidence that I can make my way in this city without Inga’s help. Well, I have always been a little overconfident. In reality, it is all-good and I get to practice my language skills and when that fails charades and re-enactment sound effects. Inga and I were planning on visiting our parents on our return to Russia. But like all plans things changed. Russia now requires any residency applicant to write, read, and speak Russian. So I had to start school right away as I only really have three months to master this exotic tongue.  This meant I had to stay at home and as much I hated this, I miss my Russian parents as much as Inga, it was unavoidable. Russian is hard as it has an entirely different alphabet and while Russians have had to learn English in school for years, they fail as much as I do in mastery. However, I have great and motivated teachers that are enjoying teaching me as much as learning from me. My history teacher is a Radio personality here in Anapa and used to be on TV. Her degree is in Psychology and my English teacher is even more qualified, or over qualified with Ph.D., as is the case but it makes for a rich and rewarding learning environment. They all are very intelligent and accepting of me as I struggle to learn with encouragement.  This new law came into effect in January and while I totally agree with the requirement, I wish it came with a few months to learn. I hate it when Canadians can’t speak the language, especially when employed in the service industry. I recently had an issue understanding a Canada Customs Officer. She wasn’t speaking French either!! Inga had said I was hard on her when we got loaded on the plane and now…Well, Karma is a bitch! So taking a little time to enjoy the beach while I listen to the phrases over and over learning how they sound and feeling a bit odd about the children’s workbook on my lap. Finger following along as Google reads it.

Yeah, I am heavy rolling prime beef on the beach! But I am learning it and remembering it and at fifty that is an accomplishment in itself. I was going to do a bit of a change in style on this installment and write this in the travel writer style but I am no longer holding out hope for an easy out to this Visa issue by getting a job doing travel writing. So life is a little in the wind and both Inga and I are practicing our Thainess by just accepting the things we can’t change and roll with the punches.

My Russian is actually improving, as the signs that accompany me on my walk to school are slowly starting to catch my attention and I understand them. I have been putting in the effort two or three hours of school and then four or so doing exercises on the computer in the evening. It has been cutting into my writing time to be sure and this blog is evidence of such. When I started it, Inga had just left and tomorrow she comes home. So almost two weeks have passed.

I managed to order a Gyro and understand the spoken amount the other day returning from school. The little Armenian guy who has opened a new shop on the corner was a bit perplexed until I told him I was Canadian. He was patient and together we got it done and paid for. He asked why I moved from a great country to Russia, we have a rep Canucks, and I told him I loved Russia and the sun. He smiled and nodded his agreement and understanding although I think I switched up the genders of the two. Russian has three gender assignments for adverbs and the noun changes the word before and after. It also changes the sounds of both these words as well. They also assign gender to numbers and hierarchy or proper, polite speech. Yeah, it is confusing as hell but I am slowly getting it with the help of my teachers. Inga is back tomorrow so we will get to practice live instead of drool computer speak. Google isn’t as good a translator, for Russian, as Facebook is. I know my Russian fans and friends are enjoying the struggle and proud of my effort.

The other day I was walking down the street and an old women stopped and asked me directions to the post office. She had no doubt noticed my tan and assumed I was a local. I managed to explain I was from Canada and a tourist. Her eyes went wide like she was witnessing a rare animal species. I stumbled through saying I understand Post Office and then gestured and said let’s go in Russian. We walked in silence, slowly as she weighed the cost of getting lost with this strange creature against her energy level. I walked her to the post office and then asked her if this was correct. She smiled and nodded her head and I noticed she had tears in her eyes. She saw the concerned look on my face and took my hand and in very slow Russian said; “Thank You May 9.” May 9th is a holiday in Russia commemorating the Allied victory over Germany. I was confused at first and then got it. The only connection to Canada she had was our help during the Great War as it is called here and while she didn’t look old enough to have personal experience from that time, she must have been. The look in her eyes was the same look my Father used to have on Remembrance Day. I nodded my understanding and said in Russian “your welcome.” I watched her old eyes dart back and her brow creased as she searched for a memory. Finding it with a smile she said in English “welcome to Russia” let go of my hands and shuffled off towards the doors of the post office.

I walked back down the street named after Lenin towards my school and remembered the 22.6 million Russian lives lost in that conflict. My mind making the connection that at home our vets struggle to forget that horror while paying tribute to those that were lost and reminding the community to remember. In Russia the community never forgets and are grateful each day for the sacrifices of the defenders of their Mother. Rodina!