So it goes.

As I previously promised an update on what I’m currently doing, here it be.

This year, I am happy to say that I am back in the classroom as a full-time (by the Bulgarian definition of the word) teacher! I am teaching English and a foreign language in a Bulgarian foreign language high school. I am teaching 10th, 11th, and 12th grades - two classes of each.

So far, I have to say, teaching has been really awesome. It is challenging and difficult and kicks your ass regularly, but it is also fulfilling and hilarious and rewarding. It’s the best kind of challenge. I feel pretty great about being back in the classroom!

Additionally, Bulgaria is a dope place to be. I wanted to come to Bulgaria, because it has quite interesting (and progressive) education policies on the books. (Practices are an altogether different topic.) I also really wanted to explore a post-totalitarian country. I am intrigued by how post-communist policies here compare to Russia and to other EU countries. My main interest lies in what education rights are provided to minorities, both linguistic and cultural. I am happy that I have some time to devote to research projects to explore some of these themes here.

Here’s to a great year!

Yoh! I know I haven’t had a substantial personal post/update in a while, but fun fact: I live in Bulgaria! And you should send me presents/postcards to my new address! The address is here:

BULGARIA
2300 Pernik
Татяна Ростовцева
Ул. Св. Св. Кирил и Методий
Блок 12, Апартамент 11
2300 Перник
България

Or

Tatiana Rostovtseva
Ul. Sv. Sv. Kiril i Metodij
Blok 12, Apartament 11
2300 Pernik
BULGARIA

I’ll give you a rundown of this year’s expected adventures soon!

In my last visit to Russia, I was fortunate enough to visit a great friend of mine from college in Tomsk. She is currently being awesome all over Tomsk and teaching English to a bunch of Siberians as a Fulbright Scholar. It was my first time east of the Urals, and I greatly enjoyed my trip. I flew Moscow to Tomsk, and returned on the Trans-Siberian Tomsk to Nizhny (49 hours!).

Tomsk made a lot of impressions on me, from the beauty of its old-school wooden architecture to the almost-rural-like warmth of its residents. However, the most thought-provoking and amazing discovery for me was how much it resembled Moscow, Nizhny Novgorod, and all the other Russian cities I’ve visited. Tomsk is about half-way across Russia, and almost the same distance to Beijing, as it is to Moscow (if one were to draw a straight line on a map), however it looks very much like all the other places I’ve seen in Russia.

I am not claiming that Tomsk is non-unique. On the contrary, I thought it had a very particular charm to it. Yet, I was completely taken aback at how standardized Russia is in its development and culture. Walking out of the Tomsk airport, I saw the same trams, the same buses, the same Soviet buildings, the same street names, the same shops, as I have seen elsewhere in the great nation. Of course, relating back to my experiences in India and Ghana, this somehow shocked me. In India, it was enough to drive 200 kilometers (123 miles) to encounter a completely different community: different language, different primary deity, different architecture, different predominant food, etc. In Russia, after traversing over 1900 miles, I was in a place that looked, sounded, and felt pretty much like Moscow.

Now, as any other policy, standardization is a double-edged sword. I can see the arguments both against and for it. I do, however, realize what a fantastic challenge it must have been to standardize a country as big as Russia — to make 13 time zones (now reduced to 11) look and feel so much like one another. Ironically, I think Russia’s standardization and sense of same-ness makes it quite unique when compared to other countries.

For me, Russia is a very unique place to be, in general. It contrasts highly with the other places I go, whether in weather or politics, foods or languages. Generally, the “home”-ness of Russia stands in stark contrast of my other traveling experiences, where I sharply stand out (usually due to the way I look). Even in destinations where I can physically blend in, my language skills shout, “Foreigner!” In Russia, however, people treat me as a “local”, as one of their “own”. Almost 2000 miles away, I didn’t expect this to remain the case.

Thanks, Tomsk, for your hospitality, your thought-provoking streets, your welcoming residents, your filling blinchiki (the Russian version of crepes or pancakes), and the ever-lasting impression you have made upon me.

Fun weather fact about Russia:
It was so cold while I was there that my iPod would power off from the below-freezing air. Snow was piled in heaps my height. Everywhere you looked, the white of winter glistened in the sunlight. As soon as I stepped outside, my headphone wires became stiff with cold.

The negative temperatures were expected, but still shockingly contrasting to the paradise of Rwanda. Within one week, my body had experienced an 80-degree range of temperatures. However, I enjoyed the beauty and harshness of winter. Having spent 2009-2010 in India, I missed the winter season. The closest I got was at on the trek in the Himalayas in December, where it was indeed, frighteningly cold. This wonderland was quite distinct from Russia’s winters, as the air was thin and the snow was not mountainous and old, not the fresh powder of Nizhny’s precipitations. Additionally, the cold mountain adventures lasted only a week. Thus, I had not experienced a real winter since senior year in Chicago.

In one of the most popular works of Russian literature, Eugene Onegin, Aleksandr Pushkin writes:
Татьяна (русская душою,
Сама не зная почему)
…
Любила русскую зиму.

And, man, is it true: I love the Russian winter!