My So-Called Glamorous Life

Sometimes I imagine my family back home is thinking of me, living the Hollywood version of my life overseas (that is, if I ever actually cross their minds at all). You know, the glitz, the glamour, the jetting here and there. So I wanted to share a typical, glitzy day in my glamorous life.

I rolled out of bed around 6, the heaving stomach cramps from yesterday’s flu mostly reduced to a low murmur in my gut. The imaginary sledgehammer pounding the back of my skull had been mostly stilled, or had at least been swapped out for a smaller ball-peen one. (The teachers reading this will know and understand why I would drag myself, still sick, to school—it is just easier than being absent.)  Sorry for infecting your kids.

I showered in a sort of dingy, brownish colored water, but hey, the pressure is great! So great, in fact, that I have already blown out 3 shower hoses since August. I toweled off and got dressed in a pair of cords and a sweater, a Michelin Man coat, a felt hat and a wool scarf and gloves, my glamorous uniform from November until May here in Moscow. I pulled on my Euro pseudo-cowboy/pirate boots and headed into the pitch black morning for the shuttle.

Sadly, the scraping noise I had earlier mistaken as the residual ringing of flu symptoms in my head, was the sound of the first snow shovels of the year. I guess I forgot what they sounded like. Or completely purged them from my memory. My Euro pirate boots, so perfect for the cold, dry weather, were all wrong for the snow. I risked a broken tailbone by going forward…I risked missing the shuttle by going back to change. Frankly, the broken tailbone was an easier prospect than facing the Moscow Metro in the morning. I gingerly tiptoed to the shuttle.

Since I hadn’t eaten breakfast, or rather, since I hadn’t retained food in 2 days, I headed straight to the school cafeteria. The daily fare of cold Eggs Benedict on yesterday’s muffin, and slimy bacon congealed in its own fat greeted me. Don’t get me wrong—my school cafeteria does a great lunch. But breakfast…not its best offering. I got a bowl of oatmeal, usually topped with some nice fresh raspberries, but today topped with raspberry crumbs. Seriously--tiny little seedlets of raspberries. Still, I guess I should count myself lucky to get even those in the dead of winter.  I managed to eat a whole half a bowl before my stomach started heaving. I grabbed the tray, managed to even put it up correctly, grabbed my things and headed for the room I’ve become so familiar with these last two days. Ah, the glamour!  The glitz!

Much later, my lovely students began streaming into the classroom. “Hey, where were you yesterday?” “We didn’t know what we were supposed to do in the computer lab yesterday so we just played games.” “We did our science experiments and used up all the supplies.” ARGH. Did I mention it is hard to be absent? I put them in the computer lab so they *wouldn’t* do the science experiments until I was there to film them. And in the computer lab they were *supposed* to finish their writing, you know, the same piece they’ve been working on ALL WEEK. ARGH. (I did say I was wearing pirate boots)

I felt that cold sweat start…you know the one. When your stomach is churning and you’re not sure which end is going to erupt. One very nice student ran to the cafeteria and brought me a Sprite. That Sprite was just about the highlight of my day, so let’s just fast forward through the “A 5th grader pushed me on the stairs”, the hanging picture that “accidentally fell off the ceiling when I was just seeing if I could touch it”, the morning recess duty in 3 degrees with the first snow of the year so of course the kids all “forgot” that they weren’t allowed to sock one another in the eyes with snowballs. We managed to scrape up enough supplies to redo the science experiments. I filmed, while the students in the background kept it down to a dull roar. No, I cannot tell a lie—they were 99% perfect—what can I say? I do have a very nice class.

I made it through the day, and for once I managed to get the “early” shuttle home at 4:20. For those of you who have ever said, “Gosh, teachers only work 8:30 to 3:30”, I want you to stop right now and do the math. *At* school by 7:30, leave school by 4:20—the 9 hour day is the *least* amount of time you can spend at my school if you ride the shuttle. (and yes, I know that's actually 8 hours and 50 minutes, but if you add on the time spent on the bus, it is over 9 hours and since you have to listen to school talk, it counts!) Once on the “early” shuttle, I remembered I needed some cat litter, but I really didn’t feel like heading to the Embassy Commissary--I just wanted to go to bed. But it’s Thursday—if I go today I can get it delivered. And that’s a big, heavy box I would have to wag on the metro if I waited to go tomorrow. OK, delivery it is.



One of Stalin's "Seven Sisters"

Fortunately I got the nice shuttle driver, and he let me off right at Beloruskaya metro, saving me a five minute slide in my pirate boots. And, at 4:35, the metro traffic was not half bad. I got out at the KPXKEURQKD station (Ok, that’s not its real name—I can only ever remember it as “the K one”) and managed to stay out of the icy patches as I made my way towards the Embassy. While I was waiting in the bitter wind for the traffic light to change,( right after a guy stomped down into a giant puddle and splashed muddy water all over my right side), I happened to look up. And there in front of me was one of Stalin’s Seven Sisters, catching the last little glint of sunlight. I crossed the street and headed towards the Embassy, and looked up again. And there was the Russian White House. OK, ok. I admit it. There might occasionally be small moments of glamour in my daily grind. I just have to remember to look up to see them.