Thursday, 26 February 2015

Excuse me is this your Balalaika?


 

Why do you want to learn Russian?”

Well, it was just a whim, an impulse. I stumbled across an online language learning site and clicked 'Russian'. The introductory lesson was free and very easy. The course was affordable, … well why not? To be honest there are an awful lot of reasons why not, it just happened that not one of them occurred to me in time! I paid the fee and enrolled.

What use is it to you?”

Okay not entirely impulsive- the idea had been lingering somewhere in the backwaters of my brain for a while, since our last visit to Kyrgyzstan to be precise. Being asked to guide a bicycle tour in Georgia this year was the trigger. In my heart I would prefer to learn Kyrgyz and/or Georgian but these languages, like Dutch are in an international perspective, more or less useless. Russian can be of use in both of these countries and in all the former soviet states.

I also have to admit that 'learning Russian' may be a bit of an exaggeration. I have set my sights rather low. In the first instance I will be happy if I can manage some daily activities: do the shopping, ask directions, arrange accommodation and decipher a menu. Discussing the meaning of life will have to wait a while!

So I paid my money, started the course and finished the first three lessons in no time. I did all the exercises, filled in all the blanks and put most of the words or letters in the right places. I felt quite proud until I paused to reflect and realised that I hadn't actually learnt anything at all. Well, not any Russian anyway.

I had discovered a few things though.

Firstly: that I have never really learnt a language as a conscious process. I mean, like all children, I learnt my own language by a process of imitation, approximation and assimilation. At school they just extended, improved and polished it. I learnt Dutch in very much the same way as a child does, except the basis was laid in bars and cafés rather than at home and in the kindergarten. I tend to learn most things this way, whether it is sport, cookery, computers, bicycle maintenance or playing the guitar. Picking up stuff as I go along rather than studying, a process of trial and error rather than training or following a rigid program. The second, rather obvious, discovery was that, whether you learn properly or muddle along like I do, learning a language is much easier if you are living in, or visiting, the country where it is spoken. During daily transactions in shops, on buses or in the café you will need to use and understand words and sentences. Menus, advertisements, instructions and signs are a constant stimulation to learning and an aid to memory. All around people are talking, discussing, arguing, bargaining and telling jokes, unconsciously you will be absorbing the sounds and feel of the language.

I have none of this, no signs, sounds, external stimulation or support.

I'm sure you have enough friends and acquaintances who would happily speak Russian with you”.

That's true, I guess... but I would find it difficult and contrived conversing with them in a language other than the one we are used too speaking . Especially as I do not see any of them very often. I don't want to waste time together on conversations like: “My name is Bob, what is your name?” when we've been friends for several years. Our conversations and discussions about everything from food, films and sport to sex,religion and politics would be somewhat dull, restricted by my lack of vocabulary.

Yes, a little late it's true, now all the reasons not to learn Russian have occurred to me. Not the least of them being that, in my situation, there is no alternative to conscientiously following the lessons. With no external influences I will not be able to improvise or skip whole sections like I usually do. This may well prove to be a bigger challenge than the language itself!

Despite this, surprisingly not deterred or discouraged, I have gone right back to square one. Starting the lessons over again. Paying attention to what I am doing rather than treating the whole process as a test of my speed and visual recognition. I have now repeated and completed five lessons. I do the daily tasks almost daily and I revise more or less when and what I am asked to revise.

How much Russian HAVE you learnt?”

Well, I now know some of the letters of the Cyrillic alphabet, I've learnt some simple words and personal pronouns. But mostly I've learnt about Anna and Tanya. I know who Anna and Tanya are. I know where Anna and Tanya are. Anna and Tanya are at home (with Ivan?). I have learnt that Anna and Tanya drink. I have learnt what Anna and Tanya drink. They drink water, milk, juice, tea, coffee, beer, wine and, last but not least, vodka...
                         ....cheers!       Будем здоровы!


Zapaholic?


 
-zap-

With me it's a late night thing.

-zap-

A long time ago I gave up watching TV in the evenings...

-zap-

...at least on a regular basis.

At prime time there are so few programmes that interest me.

-zap-

The two main consequences of this are that the most productive part of my creative working day has shifted: I do most of my writing and drawing in the evenings...

-zap-

...and I seem to have relinquished all my rights to the remote control during peak viewing time.

-zap-

-zap-

-zap-

Though why I do it remains a mystery. A strange compulsion. I mean, I've already consulted the TV guide and established that there is not much for me in the way of education or entertainment. Even though my standards at this time of the night, after working all evening, are quite low.

-zap-

Do I somehow think that the TV companies will have changed or rearranged their schedules at the very last minute just to suit me?

-zap-

-zap-

Even I'm not that optimistic!

-zap-

Oh...and...by the way...we have cable TV with the minimum package, just 25 channels, so you'd think that I'd be zapped-out in no time...

-zap-

...not a bit... when I get to the end I zap right back again!

-zap-

Okay...eternally hopeful and lowering my standards yet another degree...let's try again...there must be something...

-zap-

What's this? Naked 'Celebrities' eating worms in the jungle? They must be really desperate...

for a career!

-zap-

Oh no ...yet another programme about sick people. I don't get this fascination with disease and injury on television. I mean, you wouldn't say to your family after Sunday lunch “ Come on, let's all go down to the local hospital and watch some people being seriously ill” would you? Or maybe YOU would?

-zap-

-zap-

Ah...this looks better...an old detective series. Em? Let's see..the body was found in a 10th floor apartment and the lift was out of order. They've arrested a lift engineer with a criminal record and a grudge against the victim...oh yes... and he had the murder weapon in his hand. So it's obvious...he didn't commit the murder. My bet is that it is either the young girl in a wheel chair with two broken arms and a cast iron alibi or an apparently irrelevant barman who appears too often and has too many lines for a bit part actor. Possibly they are in it together. ..damn...commercial break....

-zap-

...more commercials...

-zap-

...talk show repeat..

-zap-

-zap-

...hey...wait a minute... a film... and it's just started. It looks okay... I'll just get myself a beer and...

...OH NO!... IS THAT THE TIME!!!!!!!!

-click-


Thursday, 20 November 2014

Bop Till You Drop



Bop till you drop

It wasn't the poetic association with autumn that got me thinking about age. No it was my recent weekly visits to the physiotherapist who is doing his best to push, pull, and fold me back into shape so that I can continue mountain biking when probably I would be better off sitting at home doing crossword puzzles. In Central Asia and many other places they have a different attitude to age and ageing. Elderly people are generally respected, looked-up to and looked after by their families. They will proudly tell you their age without being asked. They accept old age with ease and with dignity and, above all, they act and dress accordingly.

Here, in the West, it is somewhat different. It is considered impolite to ask an older person their age. We pay people to look after our elders in retirement homes. Older people have lost the right to be respected in their attempt to remain young forever. They want to go on playing tennis, running marathons, riding motorbikes and partying. They want to carry on doing what they have always done...well...except for working...and some even want to carry on doing that.

Personally, I am not really searching, longing or even wishing for eternal youth. I am, however, a product of my generation and environment. I do not intend to, grow old gracefully. I will be fighting tooth and nail against the advancing years at every stage. Yes,I know, it's very much a rearguard action and, yes, there are plenty of obstacles on the way. Mirrors, for instance, or the marshrutka driver in Bishkek who refused to take my fare because pensioners travel free on public transport, both of these confirming that not only am I getting older but I am also beginning to look my age.
I guess my white hair and beard are a bit of a give-away.
During our mountain bike trip this last summer the most frequently asked question was my age. Even back home it is apparent that, as a cyclist, I have slipped down a level. Until recently I was in the category: 'Wow, you're an amazingly strong cyclist for your age'. Now it seems I'm sliding into the 'Wow, it's amazing that you are still cycling at your age' category!
Observations that are not very helpful when one is trying to fight against time.

Luckily it's not all discouragement and negativity - there are some encouragements too.
A small boost to my anti- ageing campaign was given by a little old lady dressed in black, high in the Caucasus. She stopped in order to slowly and critically study me in my full Lycra cycling gear. After looking me up and down, from head to toe and back again she gave me an almost flirtatious nod of approval and winked before, bucket swinging, she went off to make some more cheese.
My circle of friends also provide some support in my struggle. If our conversations turn to the subject of aches and pains we will be exchanging anecdotes about sports related injuries or how minor ailments will possibly affect our athletic activities. These are young and active peoples pains not the aches associated with creaking and creeping old age! Despite our age most of us are still participating in a variety of sports... even if our pace is a little bit slower.

A bigger boost,however, came just this last week ........ I was sent an item about cycle couriers referring to them in the headline and throughout as Urban Cowboys. Now, for the last thirteen years I have supplemented my income by working as a cycle courier ...which means, according to this article, that I am an URBAN COWBOY!...aha!...

now that IS cool... and just what I needed to hear...

...keep on rocking!



                                              






















Saturday, 11 October 2014

Dangerous Roads





Dangerous Roads


It's never good to boast or brag about ones achievements. Nonetheless I couldn't resist a little bit of boastfulness recently. It came about like this: on returning from our trip to Georgia I was looking for details of one of the stages we had cycled. Over the 2620m Zagari pass. I found all the information I needed on a site for 4wd enthusiasts and this comment: “ Any driver attempting this route should have supreme confidence in their vehicle and their driving skills”. By chance this same mountain track was featured in a TV programme 'The Worlds Most Dangerous Roads' a few days later. This was my chance to impress my car orientated family, friends and acquaintances living in England. Most of them, I fear, would prefer to have bicycles banned from the roads altogether. They find it more an eccentricity than an achievement or adventure that I spend my summers cycling up and down mountains in obscure countries. 

Well it worked...this time they were impressed.


Now, if you promise not to tell, here's the truth: on a mountain bike this road wasn't particularly frightening.

It was certainly tough going and physically demanding but not specially difficult or dangerous. For a bike the roads were wide enough, we didn't have to cycle along the very edge of the ravines and we could easily avoid fallen rocks. Without taking any risks I was much faster going downhill, and sometimes on the flat sections, than the motorized vehicles.

I tend to think that our vacations are a little more adventurous than most peoples but a lot less adventurous than others. Even then any reputation we may have for being adventurous travellers is largely based on the public perception of the places we visit.


Slovenia, a small,peaceful country a lot like Austria but with fewer tourists and nowhere near as many geraniums, is (or was) associated with Croatia, Kosova, Serbia, Bosnia and all the violence and atrocities that went with the break up of Yugoslavia. Most people have not even heard of Kyrgyzstan but it does have -stan at the end of its name so it must be a scary place! Romania, many people think, is full of thieves, bandits, pick-pockets and dodgy builders. Georgia, is associated with Russian aggression and organised crime syndicates. Despite these preconceptions, except for the odd attack by stray- dogs and being given the evil-eye by a gypsy women, we have not felt threatened or unsafe in any of these places.


Taking the number of murders per 100,000 inhabitants, per year, as a rough indication of the level of violence: Central Asia & Eastern Europe, the regions we have mostly visited  the last few years, score just 5.8 and 5.9 respectively which is certainly a little more than Western Europe (0.9) but far less than Southern Africa (31), Central America (26.5) and South America (22.6). In Tbilisi, capital of Georgia, the murder rate is 5.0: which is less than New York (5.6) and not much more than Amsterdam at 4.4. Inhabitants of Detroit or New Orleans are at least four times more likely to get murdered if they stay at home than if they visit Kyrgyzstan.

So the roads we travel and the countries we visit are not as dangerous as they at first appear. Perhaps we are not so adventurous after all! Ah well – one man's adventure is another man's walk in the park and vice versa and we do have our exciting and scary moments. This year they mostly involved travelling by bus, taxi, car or bicycle in Tbilisi. Just crossing the road was at times good for a serious adrenaline rush. The fact is, worldwide, assuming you avoid war zones, there is far more chance that you will be involved in a road accident than an act of violence. Sticking with Georgia for the moment, the number of fatal traffic accidents per 100,000 inhabitants, is 15.7, compared with the national murder rate of 4.3. In Slovenia there are 6.6 road fatalities compared to 0.7 murders. Greece 9.1 compared to 1.7, in the UK you are three times more likely to die in an accident than as a result of a violent crime.

 
Official travel advice for foreign travel will stress that you must beware of pickpockets when using local public transport but they don't usually state what the risks are of getting knocked down by a bus!
There are well known, common sense steps and precautions one should take when travelling: stay out of certain neighbourhoods, avoid demonstrations and don't wear your diamonds when visiting street markets for example. From experience I would add, especially after dark, watch out for unmarked excavations and missing manhole covers...
...but above all, travelling anywhere and everywhere : be very, very careful crossing roads.







             







Ostrich Time




Ostrich Time


It is a widely held belief that when confronted by unpleasantness or danger ostriches bury their head in the sand hoping that the danger will pass. Although this is a myth the concept has past into our languages. The Dutch have named the activity of avoiding inconvenient or unpleasant issues after this large flightless bird: The Ostrich Policy (Struisvogelpolitiek ). In English we talk of ' burying our head in the sand' in order to avoid uncomfortable facts.


It is the beginning of September, most our friends have returned from their summer holiday, or vacation if you prefer. We all have stories to tell, some more interesting than others, and we have photographs, lots of them, taken with tablets, smartphones and, how old fashioned, even cameras. It was my intention to write about our recent adventures in Georgia but instead I found myself considering holidays /vacations in general. According to the definitions, holidays or vacations, have an element of getting away from something, work or study for instance. A period of rest and recreation free of duties and requirements.
My first reaction is to say that I rarely feel the need to 'get away from it all', that my motives are far more positive, a desire to visit people and places, see new things and to stretch my horizons. However, on further consideration I have to admit there are several things that I am glad to get away from, if only for a while, and that my choice of destinations, to a certain extent, reflect this:

Grumbling, complaining and moaning.

The first thing that I am increasingly glad to escape from is all the grumbling and complaining I hear around me every day. The Netherlands has to be one of the best regulated countries in the world, at least when compared to most other nations, it has a well developed infrastructure, health service, welfare service, education system and a reliable and varied supply of energy. The measurable quality of life is high...and yet..the Dutch are habitual complainers. The British are no better, a few years ago there was a popular TV series 'Grumpy Old Men' followed by ' Grumpy Old Women', middle aged and older TV personalities would air their discontent on various subjects. These programmes were entertaining, witty and amusing but they also highlighted a national characteristic: the British, and especially the English, enjoy a good moan!

It seems to me that, up to a point, the less people have the less they complain.

To be honest I enjoy travelling in places where the electricity supply is erratic, roads are blocked by rocks or livestock, bridges are in a constant state of repair and where the water is temporarily unavailable and may or may not be hot when it does becomes available. It's all part of the fun. However what I really admire is the way the local inhabitants take these setbacks in their stride, a slight shrug of their shoulders and maybe an apologetic smile “ Ah well - that's the way things are around here”, they indicate... then they get on with their lives without complaining. What's the point – it doesn't help!

Choice
It may seem a bit perverse but another thing I like to leave behind, but not for too long, is my ability to choose. Honestly! Shopping in a store that, due to poor infrastructure, inadequate distribution system or its remote location, has a limited selection of products can be very refreshing.
Having just two sorts of shampoo or biscuits to choose from instead of sixty makes life very easy, especially if you can't read the packaging. And even if it does turn out that the blue bottle wasn't shampoo after all at least you had a fifty-fifty chance. Purchasing your daily needs based on availability rather than choice makes for simple, quick and efficient shopping trips. With fewer options to consider there is no need for lengthy discussions and therefore more time over for other, more important things, like drinking beer on a bench outside the shop.

Having said that, shopping in less developed countries or districts can actually increase the choice if you are travelling light! Often products like instant coffee sachets, tea bags or disposable razors, that you would normally have to buy in larger quantities, can be purchased individually.

24/7 News

It is often on the way home from a trip that it suddenly occurs to me that I haven't read a newspaper, listened to a radio or watched any television for several weeks and that I hadn't missed any of them. Well, I may have glanced fleetingly at a TV screen in a café but it would have been tuned to football or MTV. This summer the news was as bad as ever and maybe even more depressing than usual. Air disasters, riots, uprisings, revolutions, executions and genocide. Images of hate, violence and misery. Stories of whole populations killed, injured or on the run. All these news items accompanied by, ...and this is what I am most glad to get away from,... hours of opinion, conjecture, speculation and the endless repetition that is apparently necessary to feed the twenty-four hour news machine.
Whew! No it is never good to be ignorant or uninformed but sometimes, just for a while, it does feel good to take an Ostrich style time-out and bury ones head in the sand!!