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Post by Professor Vera Olenya Kazakova on Jan 2, 2012 21:42:17 GMT -5
Before the classes were to start, Vera got a letter that she wouldn't have that many people in her Advanced Russian class, because many of the students came with no knowledge of the language. This didn't bother Vera, since she knew very few high schools worldwide offered Ruian courses, so students did not have an opportunity to learn the language.
On the first day of classes, Vera woke up early, throwing her fiery red hair into a messy bun and putting on a nice blouse and skirt, looking nice for her first day. She put her lesson into a binder, which then went into her bag. Vera ate her breakfast, then ran out the door to prepare her classroom.
Once inside her classroom, Vera wrote her name on the board in Russian, and underneath it she wrote "How was your summer?" in Russian as well. She wanted to see how the students were in their Russian, and whether or not they would be suited to the Advanced class, since most of the work would be in Russian.
Vera wrote what she needed to, then took a seat behind her desk, waiting for the students to show up for the first lesson.
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Post by obviouschild on Jan 3, 2012 2:12:09 GMT -5
It’s a wonder I can think at all
[/font][/right] Pasha slipped into the classroom, a binder tucked under one arm. He was a little early, but Pasha had always cared too much for education to risk being late on the first day of class. No-one else was here, besides a woman with vivid red hair who could only have been their professor. She was young enough that she might have passed for a student, bt her bearing and dress both suggested authority. Pasha chose a seat fairly close to the front - his glasses, while essential for writing, ruined his distance vision - and set down his books, glancing up at the message on the board with a smile.
Pasha was lucky - he’d grown up switching back and forth at his ease between Yiddish and Russian. He was quite fluent in both, though his spoken Russian did bear a hint of a Yiddish accent. In Montreal he‘d taken several classes in French, which seemed a more and more impossible language every time he opened a bescherelle; all the rest had been in English, with which he was competent but not perfect. It would be so reassuring to get back to one of his native languages again. The only challenge would be to make his calm, uneventful summer seem at least marginally interesting.
He had a feeling this was going to be a very small class, so now seemed like as good a time to introduce himself to the teacher. He took a seat at the desk he’d chosen, then glanced up at Professor Kazakova’s desk, raising a hand. “Morning, professor,” he said, in Russian. “My name’s Pavel. Or Pasha. Whatever works.”[/blockquote]
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Post by VALENTINA AKILINA IVANOVA on Jan 3, 2012 22:06:42 GMT -5
Even though she had woken up early that morning, Valentina found herself unable to pick something to wear for the first day. She did not know who her classmates would be, and she wanted to make the best impression possible. Val began tearing through the clothes she had just unpacked a few days earlier, trying to find something suitable.
After nearly an hour of searching, Val finally settled on a pink sweater and a dark pair of jeans. She put some lipstick on, gently curled her hair, and got her school supplies together in a bag. Glancing at the clock, Val swore, realizing she would be late for her first class. This is just great! I'm going to be late on the first day! she thought, grabbing her bag and running out the door to her first class; Advanced Russian.
Bursting through the door, Val bit her lip, saying hello to the teacher and apologizing for being late. She smiled when she noticed Pasha, slipping into a seat next to him. Even without the teacher's instructions, Val read the board, tok out a notebook and pen, and started to think about what she wanted to write.
Thinking for only a few minutes, Valentina started to write, knowing exactly what she wanted to say. 'For me, my summer was fantastic! My family and I spent a few weeks touring my home country of Iceland, seeing glaciers, volcanoes, and all the little villages nestled in the fjords.
Not long after that, we took a plane and flew to the US, since my parents wanted to go to New York City. While there, we went up the Empire State building, saw the Stature of Liberty, walked through Central Park, saw Times Square, went over the Brooklyn Bridge and did a whole lot of shopping! I was there only 3 weeks, but it flew by, and to be honest, I sort of wanted to stay. I do love Iceland, though, and I missed my room and my family.
Once back, it was time for me to think about what I wanted to bring to Russia for my exchange. I packed my belongings, and at the end of August, just a few weeks ago, I travelled here and now I am ready for the school year.'
Valentina put her pen down, noting she had very little time until she needed to tell the professor and Pasha about her summer. Secretly, she wondered what her crush did that summer, since he was very interesting to talk to in the cafe. * * * words;; 431 thoughts;; This wil be interesting! Outfit is here
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Post by Professor Vera Olenya Kazakova on Jan 3, 2012 22:10:42 GMT -5
Vera looked up from her desk, smiling as she heard the student speak in fluent Russian. Perhaps my students will do alright in this course, she thought, nodding her head when the student, Pavel, offered a greeting to her. "Good morning, Pavel. Welcome to Advanced Russian. I noted that you speak Russian, and very well, if I do say so. Please show me your writing skills by getting started on the assignment on the board," she said, giving him a smile.
As she was making her way back to her seat, another student burst through the door, seemingly out-of-breath. Vera nodded at her, deciding not to give detention since it was the first day. The girl, Valentina, offered a polite greeting and an apology for being late, all in fluent Russian. "Good morning Valentina. Please take a seat and get started on the assignment written on the board. Since this is Advanced Russian, I am sure you or Pavel do not need much help with the assignment. When there is half an hour left in the period, you two will present your work to the class," Vera said, taking a seat behind her desk. It would be interesting to see what her two students would come up with.
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Post by obviouschild on Jan 3, 2012 23:31:50 GMT -5
It’s a wonder I can think at all
[/font][/right] Pasha smiled. It was silly to be proud of something he had been able to do since he was a child, but it was nice to hear it, all the same. Obediently he sat down, took out a fresh page and began to write.
My summer was not what you‘d call exciting. But with young children in the house, excitement starts to lose its charm in comparison with a good night’s sleep, so don’t imagine I’m complaining. I spent most of the summer working in my father’s shop in Montréal, making and repairing furniture. Most of the work we do is still done by hand, which I prefer. It’s satisfying, organic work.
At the sound of a female voice, Pasha almost broke his pencil from surprise. It was Val. She had just slipped into the seat beside him. Pasha glanced up from his page, offering her a covert smile and a slight wave with a hint of nervousness in it. Suddenly it wasn’t only important that professor Kazakova like his work; Val had to enjoy it too. He glanced back over the paragraph he’d written, changed ‘imagine’ to ‘think’ for the sake of simplicity, and began to write again.
In my spare time, I joined the orchestra of a very silly Gilbert and Sullivan show, butchered the French language, and tried to keep my little brother from burning the house down. My brother is six years old, the only one of us born in Canada. He speaks fluent French without any effort and uses it as a code, with which he can communicate elaborate pranks to his friends without my parents catching on. But I’m on to him.
The highlight of my summer came directly from working as my father’s apprentice. Aside from woodwork, we are sometimes commissioned to repair musical instruments. Yo-Yo Ma was in town, because he was doing a concert at the Opéra de Montréal. Yo-Yo Ma is a hero of mine, and I was quite sad that I couldn’t go to the concert - until the next moring, when he showed up at our shop front with his antique 18th-century cello to have us repair a scratch. I shook his hand and I restored his cello. I can now die happy.
Boarding my flight to Moscow was difficult. I’ve never been away from my family for any length of time, and it makes me uneasy. All the same, being back in Russia feels right in a way that I can’t quite put into words.
That would do. There wasn’t really anything else to say. Pasha read at over and set his pen down, looking up from the page. Val seemed to be finished already. Pasha caught her eye and smiled again, though he wasn’t quite sure why he’d done it. She had such a pretty smile. [/blockquote]
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Post by Professor Vera Olenya Kazakova on Jan 4, 2012 15:58:38 GMT -5
Vera sat quietly at her desk, writing up and finalizing the lesson for today. Even though it would be boring, there was not a lot of time left once the two students shared their stories so they would just have to conjugate a few verbs.
Glancing at the clock, Professor Kazakova deccided that the two students, Pavel and Valentina, had plenty of time to write about their summer. "Okay, now it is time for you to come to the front of the class and read out your assignment. I will be marking you on your speaking and your written work, so don't forget to hand it in at the end of class," she said, offering the class a smile.
"Pavel, I'd like you to go first. Please go to the front and tell myself and Valentina about your summer," she said, giving him a smile and waiting for him to speak.
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Post by obviouschild on Jan 4, 2012 19:40:16 GMT -5
It’s a wonder I can think at all
[/font][/right] Pasha nodded obediently and got out of his seat, heading towards the front of the class with a slight bounce in his step. He enjoyed this sort of thing. Valentina being there added something to the stakes, but he knew from the performing he’d done that a hint of nervousness was actually a good thing if you knew how to use it. He smiled at his audience of two and began to read, being careful to keep his eyes on the room and off his paper as much as he could.
Although he’d told Val that he didn’t want to spend his entire life in the spotlight, Pasha did enjoy the odd chance to be dramatic. He’d been in either the chorus or the orchestra of the Montreal Savoy Society every year since he was thirteen, playing violin or singing baritone for various operettas. The reason he’d never played a lead, aside from being too busy in general, was that he was a self-confessed ham. Pasha could never resist a dramatic gesture, and that was a more valuable trait in a chorus member than a lead.
Now, he made full use of his dramatic ability to instil a little life and interest into the few paragraph’s he’d written, playing up his exasperation at his brother’s antics and his feelings of awe at being face to face with one of the best performers in the world. Apart from the occasional glance downward to his page, he met Val’s eyes for most of his speech. When he had finished, he took his seat again, the nervous energy gone, and glanced over at Val again, eager to hear what she’d written. [/blockquote]
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Post by VALENTINA AKILINA IVANOVA on Jan 4, 2012 22:41:04 GMT -5
From the moment Pasha started to speak, Valentina was hanging on his every word. She listened to the parts about his brother, secretly wishing that she had a sibling to share experiences with. From what Pasha portreyed, his brother seemed like a boy who liked using his knowledge of French to keep his family from finding out his tricks.
Her eyes widened in surprise when he said that Yo-Yo Ma had come into the family shop. He was a fantastic classical player, and knowing Pasha was a classical violinist, it must have been wonderful and exciting for him to meet someone like that.
Valentina clapped lightly when he finished, shooting him a smile as she got out of her seat, the paper in her hand. When she got to the front of the room, Val felt nervous about sharing her summer experience, but she knew that Pasha was there and that he wouldn't laugh at her too badly if she messed up. Val took a deep breath, beginning her presentation.
She talked about her family touring Iceland, about the glaciers, volcanoes, waterfalls and all the different places she saw. Valentina desribed the rainbows over the waterfalls, the heat of the hot springs, and the awe of standing at the edge of a dormant volcano. She tried to make her teacher and Pasha experience it with her, to make it seem more real.
Then, Valentina talked about her trip to New York City, about what she saw and did. Val talked about going up the Empire State building and how afraid she was when she looked over the edge. She made the taxis come alive, the awe of seeing thosands of people in Times Square. Val doubted they'd understand unless they visited there, but she tried her best to paint a mental picture.
Once she finished, Valentina took her seat, looking at Pasha. The professor was still writing, so Val leaned over, her voice barely a whisper. "I really liked your presentation. I can't believe you met Yo-Yo Ma! But be honest...how did I do?" she asked, wondering what he thought about what she wrote about.
* * *[/center] words;; 370 thoughts;; Not my best, but hope you get something. ^.^
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Post by obviouschild on Jan 7, 2012 2:49:44 GMT -5
It’s a wonder I can think at all
[/font][/right] Valentina began to speak. Pasha, spellbound, could not have taken his eyes from her if he’d wanted to. It was s nice, so appealing, to think that she could write intelligently as well as speaking intelligently. Pasha would have put up with a lot of things, but he could never have handled a stupid girlfriend. And Val - she didn’t just have something to say, she said it well, with life and emphasis. It made her more attractive than ever. He wondered if she had ever acted.
Pasha realized, after a moment, that he was already mentally referring to her as ‘girlfriend’, and back-pedalled his thoughts. They’d known each other all of two days, and while those two days had more than convinced him that she liked him, he still shouldn’t get ahead of himself. But it was hard not to hope.
Pasha had never been to New York, but her description of it reminded him of a bigger Montrèal, with an even greater sense of grandeur and energy. It made him wonder if he’d ever be able to afford to take her there. When she had finished, Val took a seat next to him, and their eyes met again. If we keep this up I’m never going to hear a word our profs say, thought Pasha, happily. Her being in more than half his classes still seemed too good to be true. He wondered if the professor had noticed their constant glances at one another; if she’d caught on yet. The teachers might easily have a betting pool running on the outcome of their relationship before the week was out.
“Thank you,” he whispered. “I hardly believed it myself. When he smiles at you, it’s like standing in the presence of a supernova.” He tilted his head, surprised at her concern - did she really think she might have done badly? “Beautifully. You’ve convinced me to go to New York as soon as I can.” [/blockquote]
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