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Today I had an interview at a British Kindergarten. It’s a private nursery school for both Russian and expat kids. They conduct as much of the day as possible in English.

Now, I’ve never had any intention of teaching nursery school. My mother’s a first grade teacher, and my reasonably successful life philosophy has always been to think “What Would Mom Do?” and then do the exact opposite. Furthermore, my longtime friends know that I swear like a sailor, amongst other characteristics that I have to watch around small children.

But one of the language schools to which I had faxed my resume runs this kindergarten, and the director called me and invited me for an interview, and I thought, well, it will be interesting to see, at least. And I rarely refuse an interview; it’s always a learning experience.

Today I was feeling kind of crabby, and even considered not going to the interview, but decided that I had to, so I dragged myself to the metro, all the while thinking “I’m not going to teach Kindergarten!”

But then I got there, and it was really nice, and the kids were cute (though it was naptime, so I didn’t see much of them), and the hours are regular, and the pay is decent, and one month of the two-month summer vacation is paid, and they would sponsor my visa if I were no longer sponsored by Aunt Kelly’s employer, so it was starting to sound pretty good.

But I have my other students, who I like very much, and I wouldn’t want to quit a job right after having started, so we agreed that I would come to the kindergarten two days a week for the month of February, and see how it works out. And since the kindergarten day ends at 2:00, maybe if I decided to work there I could still teach my 8-year-old and my computer geeks.


I started teaching another group in another part of town this week, and on Tuesday I noticed that there was a BlinDonalt’s between the metro and the school. What is BlinDonalt’s, you ask? It’s (one of) Russia’s answer(s) to McDonalds. That is, superficially it kind of looks like a McDonalds, but it serves very Russian food. It’s supposed to be the ultimate family restaurant — there’s a play area for the kids, and a beer bar for their parents. I’d never been to one, but today I took the plunge. I had solyanka (hot dog soup) and a meat pie. They were tasty and very inexpensive, but had enough grease to drown a horse. I hung out in BlinDonalt’s for a long time working on lesson plans. At 6:00 they projected Tom and Jerry cartoons on to a big screen. Apparently they have karaoke later in the evening.


The place where I was teaching tonight is some kind of adult education center. The classroom we were in has really amazing classic Soviet military strategy posters covering the walls. I wonder what is taught there during the day. I need to get my digital camera so I can take spy photographs.


On the way home from class I saw a basset hound. Not the basset hound I often see on the walk to the university — always walking purposefully by himself, leading me to speculate that he is actually a man who has been turned into a basset hound by a witch — no, this is an entirely different part of town. This basset hound was wearing a green camoflauge jacket, but still the poor thing was shivering, probably because its disproportionately large, um, willy was dragging in the snow. It was a strange sight.

So, how was your day?


About This Blog

I'm an American who started blogging when I moved to Russia in 2004. Eventually I moved to Sweden, where life is pleasant but uneventful, and stopped blogging for lack of interesting things to say. And then I joined Facebook, which further destroyed any motivation for blogging. Maybe someday I'll start blogging again, but for now, this blog is dormant, an archive of The Russia Years: 2004-2008.

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February 2005
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