From Russia

Winters in St Petersburg are long and cold. I’m used to them by now; it’s my fourth year here. I know all the signs of oncoming winter but it still takes me by surprise. Almost as if I didn’t notice nights getting colder, mornings being darker and evenings shutting their windows to the night earlier and earlier each day.

The sun is high and strong and the walk proves to be very enjoyable despite the cold. Snow is almost gone from the pavements and streets but still sits on the roofs and grass. I walk past the families with over energetic kids who don’t seem to feel the cold. Even pigeons are going about their daily business as if they weren’t too bothered by it. I’ve been walking for a good twenty minutes and I need to warm up. I head to my usual place. It’s a cafe opposite to Kunstkamera museum. It’s not very adventurous but I really like its cosiness. I often come here during my breaks between lectures. It reminds me of Paris. When I come here alone I sit by the window and watch the people walking by. I like watching people when they are at their most natural. After all, people are my ‘speciality’. I’m an anthropologist. Yet, I’m a loner; I don’t like human contact in everyday life.

I’m walking into ‘my’ cafe. The waiter knows me and asks if I’ll be sitting alone today. When I nod to confirm, he takes me straight to my window table; the best spot for “people watching” on this side of Kunstkamera. I move my chair from its original place and situate it in the position in which I have my back on the cafe and am facing the window. I take out notepad and writing paper from my waistcoat pocket and put them on the table. Then I search through my pockets for the pen. After a short moment of panic I finally find it and place it next to the paper. When I’m all settled, I sit and stare at the street. Sometimes passersby notice me, some turn their eyes immediately and walk off, others get shy or embarrassed; there are also people who stare back as if they want to challenge me in some staring game. In those cases I play the game for a moment or two and if they don’t give up first, turn away slowly as if it was boring me. Last summer a couple of young kids, maybe five or six years old, managed to get me involved in a face pulling competition. Till this day I don’t know who won because their parents called them away. I watched the family together and became very jealous. I wanted to be six years old again and hold my mum by the hand. Seeing the kids with their parents reminded me of myself at that age. Suddenly, I remembered that sunny Saturday afternoon when my mum was dusting the shelves; and the black box with the coins inside.  It looked pretty, very interesting. I went over to the table and tried to open it. The lid came off easily. I looked inside and found something I hadn’t seen before. The box was full of round metal things that looked like money but were different.

‘Mummy, what’s this?’ I asked.

Mum put the cloth down and came over to the table. She took one round thing and looked at it for a moment.

‘What is it?’ I asked again impatiently.

‘They are coins.’

‘But they look different’, I was puzzled. She stroked my hair and smiled.

‘Yes, they are different because they are old coins and they come from many different countries’.

She took a handful out and spread them on the table. They had different shapes, colours and sizes. The sun shone on the table and all the coins, some of them really sparkled and I had to squint. I chose a big silver coin with a head of a man with some leaves on his head.

‘Which country is this one from?’

‘This one is from Rome.’

‘And this one?’ I picked another silver coin but slightly smaller, ‘Where is this one from?’ Mum took it in her hand and turned it over couple of times.

‘This one is from Russia.’

‘Ooo’, I stretched out my hand to take it from her, ‘from Russia’

Mum gave the coin back to me. I held it with adoration.

‘From Russia!’ I repeated. Mum laughed and stroked my hair.

It was then that I decided that I wanted to know more about people from different countries and that I wanted to visit Russia. 

Pandora - Greece

Pandora - the gift of gods

When Zeus saw that Prometheus created people and taught them how to make fire he got worried. He still remembered very well the fights with giants and did not want this to repeat. Zeus decided to punish people. He asked Hephaistos to make a woman as beautiful as the goddesses from Olympus. When this was done Athena taught her how to sew, Aphrodite gave her beauty and Hermes gave her coaxing character. They called her Pandora - the gift of gods. The gods also gave her a pot made of clay but no one knew what was inside.
 
Now Pandora was ready. She was sent down to the earth and left in front of Prometheus's house. Wise Tytan looked at the beautiful woman and realised that this was a trick. He sent Pandora away and told people to do the same. However, he had a brother called Epimetheus (meaning: 'thinking backwards') who took Pandora in and married her. As soon as Prometheus found out about this, he went to see his brother and told him not to open the pot no matter what. He had a feeling this was a deceit.

His pleas were in vain. Pandora convinced her husband to open the clay pot anyway. As soon as they lifted the lid all the misery escaped out to the world. Unhappiness, poverty, illnesses and problems flew out of the pot and clang on to the people to haunt them forever.

When Prometheus found out what happened he decided to pay back the gods in the same tricky way. But this  is another story...

Where did people come from? - Greece

Stories on the origin of people differ depending on the source.

According to the Greek mythology, people were already on the planet Earth when the gods were fighting for the rule over the world. The stories of where humans came from were many. Some said they came straight from the earth; others that mountains and forests gave birth to people. There were also theories that they came from the the gods.

Most popular in the Greek mythology is, however, story of Prometheus. Prometheus was one of the Tytans. He made a first man from clay and tears. Human soul came from the spark of the chariot of the sun.
First people were weak and naked; they could not defend themselves from the wild animals or the cold. Prometheus sneaked into the heavens and stole fire from the gods. People now used the fire to keep warm and defend themselves from the wild beasts. Good Tytan was teaching people how to wisely use fire and how to fend for themselves.

Gods in the Olympus did not like this and decided to create a woman. Her name was Pandora. But this is another story...

Typhon; the last son of Gaia - Greece

This myth is a continuation to the previous one about the fight between the gods and the giants.

Basically, when Gaia (Mother Earth) found out what happened to her children (giants), she gave birth to the biggest monster anyone ever seen. His name was Typhon. From head to groin he was a giant human and at the bottom; instead of legs; he had snakes' bodies.
When the gods of the Olympus saw him, they got scared and escaped to Egypt where they changed themselves into animals. Only Zeus faced the monster.
He hurt Typhon with his metal sickle. The giant was bleeding so badly that the mountains where he was became red. Since then they were called 'Blood Mountains'. When Typhon was very weak, Zeus thrown Sicily island on top of him. Every time Typhon is trying to get out of his prison sicilian earth is shaking and smoke is coming from the volcano (Etna).

I find very interesting myths like this one. They are evocative way of explaining natural events such as volcano eruptions or - in this case - the colour of the mountains. Ancient Greeks didn't know geography like we do today but they still found a way to explain these phenomenons. Every area has myths like this one. Isn't it fascinating to find out what explanations there are to the unusual formations or events near you?

Heracles - Greece

Now, that we have creation of the world behind us, comes the time for some heroes. I though that Heracles is a good one to start with. Being half human and half god, he was the only one that could fight the giants. Listen to this story:

Soon after Zeus took over the rule of Olympus, the giants attacked the gods wanting to gain the power. They were throwing mountains and making a wall that would take them to the Olympus. Some of the gods got scared. Giants were attacking them with the massive rocks; those rocks that did not reach Olympus would fall into the sea and were turning into islands. Zeus looked into to the book of destiny and found out that only a human can kill the giants.
Athena brought in Heracles who managed to kill most of the giants with his arrows. Those who survived were scared off by the Dionysus and his army of roaring donkeys.
Only one giant stayed behind on the field. His name was Alcyoneus. He was not afraid of any weapons as long as he could touch the place where he was born. Touching his birthplace would immediately heal all his wounds. Heracles kidnapped him, took him far away from his country and killed him.

What an interesting myth. Despite all the fighting it has a couple of poetic touches. For example, explanation on how the mountains / rocks that had fallen into the sea became islands.

I was thinking that writing all the time about one region might be a little bit boring. I couldn't resist and last week  I bought a book on celtic myths and legends. Maybe I can choose a couple of them in April? What do you think?

Birth of the World - Greece

At the beginning there was Chaos, great abyss from which the first couple emerged. Their names were Uranus (Father Sky) and Gaia (Mother Earth). Their children were Titans, Hekatonheires (one-hundred-armed giants) and Cyclopes (one eyed giants). Uranus wasn't happy with the latter two groups of his children and decided to send them down to Tartarus (place of permanent night); to the place from which there was no return. When Gaia found out about this, she asked her youngest Titan son – Cronos - to avenge his brothers and sisters. Young Titan cut off his father’s testicles and pushed him off the  heavenly throne. Cronos became the new king. Along with his wife, Rhea (also his sister) he ruled over the emerging earth. He was very suspicious and strict ruler. His father warned him that his son will remove him from the throne. Therefore every time Rhea had given birth to a baby, Cronos would eat it. He has eaten five babies already, when his wife decided to use a trick against him. After giving birth to their sixth child, instead of a baby, she gave him a stone wrapped in the cloth. Cronos swallowed it thinking it was a baby. The saved child was a boy. His name was Zeus. Rhea took him to Earth and left under the care of mountain nymphs. When Zeus became a man, he started the war against his father. He asked his mother, Rhea, to give Cronos something that will make him vomit. Three sisters and two brothers came from Cronos’s insides. They were Hades, Poseidon, Hera, Demeter and Hestia – Zeus’s siblings. The war between father and son was long and cruel, but finally Cronos had fallen and Zeus took over the rule of the Olympus.

This myth describes the birth of the world emerging from nothingness. The first couple appears and it gives the beginning to the whole new nation of gods. Of course, from the very beginning there are suspicions and lack of trust amongst them. Powerful fathers destroy their own children either because they are displeased with their looks; or are afraid of losing the power. Wives oppose their husbands and convince the sons to fight their fathers. This new world is already full or evil and hate.

This story does not answer one important question: Where did the first couple really come from?

What is the difference between myth and legend?

I was thinking I should set some things clear at the beginning; before I set to fulfil my challenge.
Myths and legends seem to be the same things but they differ slightly.

I did a little research and found out that legends are the stories based on the true event from the past which have been passed through generations. There usually is a real hero. On the other hand, myths are stories created by people in order to teach or explain certain facts or events (such as natural disasters or religious questions).
There are also folktales - stories passed from one generation to the next in the spoken form.

I am interested here in all these forms (and more). I'm setting off with Greek and Roman myths, then moving on to polish legends and folktales. Strange combination, I know, but this is what I currently have on my bookshelves. The collection will hopefully expand and I will be able to ponder on the stories from other regions,too. Any suggestions are welcome.

The challenge starts here!

Frustrated man

Going back to my previous entry about my colleagues, I am going to carry on with the subject of Ian the Ward Clerk.

He is 36 years old man, who worked in the hospital all of his working life. He started in Medical Records and then moved on to be a ward clerk (don’t worry if you don’t know what these jobs are – they are admin positions). The reason he came to work in the hospital was the fact that his mother worked there, too. She is now a specialist nurse with serious alcohol problem (but this is a story for some other time).

Getting back to Ian; when I first met him, I remember the unbelievable amount of frustration emanating from him. He said that the job he does pays his bills but he hates it with all his heart. “Surely none of us ever dreamt of becoming a ward clerk when we were little” was one of his favourite sayings. I must say I liked it first but it became quite boring with time. He often gets mood swings that are quite unpredictable and you never know if he’s going to burst into one of his spiked with hate and anger speeches about “some people in here” not respecting admin staff and wanting “everything to be done for them”. On the other hand he can always have a monologue about life in general, good and bad vibes and football.

All the above is not too bad. There is always singing (for me it is more like a foxes calling at night). He sings tirelessly whatever he does. Watching any new starters and patients when they hear his singing for the first time is priceless!

And now comes the best of all; Ian likes to indulge himself in smoking cannabis during working hours. He doesn’t even go outside of the hospital to do that. Stationery cupboard seems to be perfect place for him to feed his little habit.

Now all his mood swings, extreme joy and anger make sense. I still think this is a proper piss taking. He is watched by management (because of his behaviour and quality of work) but he still manages to get away with things like that. What’s more; he is on higher pay band than all the rest of the ward clerks on other wards who actually work hard and behave normally.

So, what do I need to do to get the same privileges as Ian? Get my mum to become a specialist nurse. Long live NHS! 

My colleagues

People sometimes say that NHS staff consist of comfortably sitting on their asses weirdows. I think I have to agree (even it makes me one of them). I have worked in many different places during my life, but nowhere have I met so many sad and lonely people as in the hospitals where I worked.

There are many types, of course. There are groups of aged grumpy women scaring patients and any newbies away. There are packs of up their own asses consultants and rude nurses. There are dirty, scruffy single guys dreaming their lives away in the forgotten cellars (bowels of the hospital). I could go on. But it’s not my aim to categorise all the employees. Or is it?

Anyway, watching all this makes me sad and scares me at the same time. Will I ever be like them? Or… am I already one of them? Well, yes I get grumpy a lot. I’m passed my twenties. I have no prospect of getting a job somewhere else. Well, to be honest, I’m comfortable in my cosy job. As long as I can do job in the quickest amount of time, I can then spend the rest of my working hours feeding my hobbies and interests. And, to the certain extend my job is pretty secure. So, why should I leave?

I shouldn’t, but there are so many people that I wish would leave. I can start with Ian (36 year old ward clerk), who smokes cannabis in the stationery cupboard. He then goes around wailing(he thinks he is singing) and complaining how much he hates his job.