‘In England we never entirely mean what we say, do we? Do I mean that? Not entirely. And logically it follows that when we say we don’t mean what we say, only then are we entirely serious’ – Alan Bennett (from The Old Country)

‘We should look long and carefully at ourselves before we consider judging others’ – Molière

‘No one can be as calculatedly rude as the British, which amazes Americans who do not understand studied insult and can only offer abuse as a substitute’ – Paul Gallico

‘No chord, nor cable can so forcibly draw, or hold so fast, as love can do with a twined thread’/ ‘You know, of course, that the Tasmanians, who never committed adultery, are now extinct’ – Robert Burton/ William Somerset Maugham

‘She’s beautiful, and therefore to be woo’d;

She is a woman, therefore to be won.’ – William Shakespeare

Not the usual low-quality poetry I know, but I thought I would put up some quotes that, on looking back on my time here in Voronezh, have all been very and all too relevant – especially in the last few weeks.

I mentioned in my last literary outing that I had a new American staying with me; well he stayed, along with the ten others – in different places of course – for two weeks or so. We didn’t see much of them while they were here due to the fact that they were studying at a different campus. However we did go out for drinks with them now and then. One such evening was on the День России or ‘Russia Day’, which is a holiday of national unity celebrated on June 12th. On this day, in 1990, Russian parliament formally declared its sovereignty. The holiday was officially established in 1994. Initially it was named “Day of the adoption of the Declaration of Sovereignty of the Russian Federation”, which was crap and pointless basically so on 1st February 2002 it was officially renamed to “Russia Day”…and it’s not very good.

A watered down version of the goings on during the Victory Day proceedings met us on Lenin Square. A lot of drunk people, a few stalls selling plastic tat, a stage – the same one used for the aforementioned V-day that had sat desolate on the square for a month – that hosted some truly abysmal acts also greeted us. However, unlike the patriotic grandeur and madness of victory day, the modestly named Russia day was as limp as Elton John’s wrist but not as musically potent. Anyway, we endured it for the sake of our American brethren, knowing that at some point there would be fireworks. There were. They were magnificent. A rising, ever-improving crescendo of explosions and colours boomed and splashed across the sky. At the climax the largest rockets detonated and made the heavens bright and our ears throb, whilst the Russian national anthem (one of the best in the world) pounded out of the speakers. Having learnt the words in our singing classes, we sang along and, even though we weren’t Russians, our hearts swelled somewhat. So, in conclusion, it was a triumphant end to a somewhat uninspiring ‘day’ – more of an evening. Much drinking and mirth followed the fireworks…we joined in of course.

Nights of little sleep, many glasses full of beer, hearty laughs and broken Russian conversations later the Americans had to leave for Moscow. We said our goodbyes and resigned ourselves to loneliness for the last two weeks.

There was an air of anticipation, as there always is near the end of these things, permeating through every action of daily life. The last two weeks really did tick along as normal. Nothing particularly out of the ordinary or notable happened. We had a final meal at Golf Tee Club, then a second final meal at Gulliver’s. We spent many nights in the pub watching the football tournament – my Italy eventually being kicked out by the dirty Spaniards. I continued working away diligently on my ridiculous essay in a vain attempt to reach the outrageous word count. Then we decided to go to the beach.

When I say beach, I’m sure the first image that flittered into view in your mind was of a sandy beach, it’s golden grains glowing in the sun, while the sea surf slaps at the shore. Or maybe it was a serene, shiny shingle scenario situated south of Shoreham. Ok I’m being an arse but the ‘beach’ in Voronezh isn’t really a beach. It’s a arm of sand that lies by the eerily still waters of the Voronezh reservoir…not sea.

Even though rain was clearly imminent in the sky – you know when it’s just looks angry and visually it’s a smudgy black/grey carpet of cloudy doom – we still decided a beach bbq was in order. So in two shifts we purchased a fair whack of burgers, buns, beers, crisps, and material things such as one-use bbqs, tongs, and a cool bag. We had two teams (due to the two shifts) barbequing. One team was Chris, Silvia and myself (team elite), and the other team was everyone else (team burn holes through one-use bbqs, not cook food properly, and generally suck at the tricky task of basically setting fire to meat until you can eat it). My team enjoyed a swift succession of unfairly tasty burgers, whilst team-crap struggled in vain to even get their fires going. Their downfall attributed to the fact that Sean had gone to fetch his girlfriend, which left Tom and the girls in charge. Sean, on his return, courageously tried to fix the situation with heroic levels of fan-flapping and tong tactics. The girls sat there saying it was Tom’s fault. Tom grumbled…even when he got his beer and burger. My team sat there, staying out of the way of the pandemonium safe in the knowledge that we had won. All we had to put up with were insults and incredulous cries as to how well we did and to how diplomatic we were with dishing out food and ketchup. Did I mention all of this was done in the rain and under an umbrella?

After eating we played beach football as the sun set. The buildings glittered, the empyrean burned and a rainbow arched over the sky – we saw the whole semicircle. Sean started a bonfire then all of us boys did what we do best…shirtless we strode into the nearby woods to find dead stuff to burn. Stuff that once was tree crackled on the fire as it grew in might and power. We talked and smiled as the embers glowed. Frogs and crayfish frittered about in the shallows of the reservoir. A distant thunderstorm growled in the distance as flashes of yellow lightning punctured the clouds. It was immensely pleasant.

A whole day without any water. No water for the Voronezh region. Rubbish, old pipes does this to a country said my landlady as she gasped incredulous that I live three hours from London. Cafes had to serve food on plastic plates…with plastic knives and forks. What a mess.

Went to the old book market with Laura and picked up ‘Elementary English’ (1948 and full of communist propaganda) for 80p after explaining to the man selling (who kept trying to speak to me in Italian) that I was an English student. As I left, he trundled up to me and offered me a 1938 soldier’s English-Russian war dictionary for £1. Obviously I bought it. Two remarkable soviet relics for under £2…bargain!

We ended our time at the university with some, rather stupid, ‘exams’. Old Vadim gave us a choice: either a сочинение (a small essay) изложение (exposition). I chose the former as I had already done it, as had Chris and Helen. The others, thinking it the easier option, chose the latter. We handed in our written pieces and were done with it. The others were taken into a room and were read a short story twice and then had to re-write it as best they could. In other words it was impossible. The next day, due to the unprecedented amount of errors in the изложение works, he decided the whole class should do it. As we started, we protested feebly as to its impossibility. The old man grumbled and gave us a gulag-sending look and decided to do a dictation –pointless. After that we then spoke about what we had just read/written, which was our oral test. The following Monday we had a very hard grammar test on verb aspect (imperfectives and perfectives) – Russian students you’ll know what I mean when I say it’s hard.

The very last day we had a small party in our honour, though earlier then planned as Tom, Nat and I were leaving a few days early in order to travel home through Europe by train. Cakes, sweets, cheese and champagne adorned the tables. There were toasts – I made one, being the ‘group leader’ and all – songs and certificate presentations and lastly goodbyes. And that was it. That was the end of our time at the Voronezh State University. I have to admit I didn’t feel too sad. Partly because I wasn’t really the same kind of student there as I was when in Spain and partly I wasn’t sad to say goodbye to anyone, as they were all the Bath lot. With the exception of Irina the secretary I had no emotional link to that part of the university. We also said goodbye to the great Luba and the magnificent Katya at the foreign languages faculty. Without their help we would have been sleeping in boxes outside, beaten up by the militsia, fined about £5000 for some stamp that we had forgotten to get at the public toilets after using them, or been deported back to the UK.

The end of all things. The end of Russia. The end of my Year abroad experience. It was the one of the best years of my life. Russia was one of the best experiences of my life. It contained the best and worst times. I saw the beauty in people and the nastiness in people. I learnt a lot about everyone, about myself, about the way things work. I matured. I have been on the tops of mountains, underneath waterfalls, establishing lasting connections and sampling new culinary delights. But I have also seen the darkness in people, been low and confused, not quite loved and lost, and had to deal with having a bucket shower. But this is life. This is real. Spain as much as I loved it was a four and a half month holiday with lectures. Russia was a different beast entirely. Russia was gritty, raw, remarkable and surreal. And we lived it. I lived it. And I’m better because of it.

The year abroad experience is one of the greatest things you can and will do. You won’t regret it. And if you ever moan or feel like giving up just remember to tell yourself to shut up and look at how lucky you are.

The End