Bureaucracy or Bust!

Galina bustled around, not worrying that it was almost midnight. She was in a dressing gown and God knows what else. She explained how to use the shower, in Russian, and insisted I swap my shoes for slippers. Sensible idea, as it saves the floor from mud, dirt and slush if it’s been snowing. Not that it was, or had been for at least six months. The number of seemingly intelligent people who assume that Russia has one season, deepest winter, amaze me. It was still +20C. I fell asleep then lay down. On a bed.
I woke to a cooked breakfast, all part of the board I was paying, and Galina tried to fatten me up for winter. But before that I took a shower. Part of me was still asleep because I could only get cold water, even though the gas was lit. Yep, there should have been an inferno inches from my body. But there wasn’t. It was going to be a long 15 weeks if I couldn’t figure out the shower. She then walked me to the main road, via a short cut, decided the wind was a bit nippy (it was 15C and threatening rain) and I headed up to the Kazan State University or KGU. I live in the centre of Kazan, and am only 10-15 minutes’ walk from the University. It’s on the top of a small hill (this is European Russia, all hills are small) not far from the Kazan Kremlin.
First port of call was the International Office, where they would process us, give us the necessary I.D.s and so on. But before I could get there, I had to negotiate my way past the security guard. Simplicity itself: get a pass from the office over there. So I joined the queue and waited. The queue moved quickly; give your name and person you want to see and they write it out. I saved a lot of time by showing the passport and the letter of introduction. Voom, and I was in.
Found the right office and then the confusion and bureaucracy began. First, they needed to know who we, the foreigners, were. So hand over the passport, and some photos of myself I brought with me. Only the photos are no good. KGU want them in black and white, and mine are in colour. By now, there is a small horde of us foreigners in the office, dealing with each other in a combination of English, Russian, and German. We were all in same boat, so one of the office ladies led us to a nearby photographer, who did the business for 90RR/person. Then back to the office to start more paperwork.
It was going to take a while for our various documents to be made, so once we were all admitted, the day was ours. It was now 11am. So one of my new friends and I went in search of culture and art. We stuck our heads in the Kremlin, walked the pedestrian mall, and had a light lunch in one of the cafes. Then back to KGU to collect our paperwork. Once again, we had to get a hall pass, which I was ready for, and got to the front of the queue. One of my cohort was a young Swede, and was rather impressed by the fact I knew the drill. He’d somehow managed to by-pass security and had wandered the halls of KGU looking for the International Office for hours before he’d finally found it. Which wasn’t ready. Well, mine wasn’t. I had to come back the next day. So I strolled around the town with my new Swedish friend, popped into the local mall, The Kol’tso (Ring) and do some window shopping. Not a bad little mall; naturally, over half the shops are fashion related. There is a supermarket and a bookshop too. Bookshop is pretty good, and I decided I’d found a second home. No toy shops though.
Tuesday arrived, and I woke to another cooked breakfast. I could get used to this. I figured out how to use the water heater and had a hot shower, and strolled up to KGU in the drizzle. Where I once again queued for a hall pass, went to the International Office and collected my papers, which were know ready, and then off to the Languages department. Where we again waited while somebody consulted with somebody else and the rest sat around drinking tea. Eventually, they decided we should sit a test, which we did. They then had a look at the results, and said everybody come back tomorrow at 11 and we’ll sort out the groups. At least, that’s what I finally figured out. I was still hearing only sounds, not words, so was relying on a chap from Hawaii, via California, to translate for me. Then off to spend more money.
We hit the mobile phone company. Rumour had it Beeline was giving the best deal, so everybody headed there. I’d left my phone at home – why carry something that didn’t work? Offer money, produce passport and police registration and sooner or later you get a Russian SIM card, which was going in the phone the moment I got home. Oh yes, and a booklet on the benefits of Beeline, in Russian. It was raining, and I went home to play with my new SIM card. Which didn’t work.
Well, it did, but for some reason, my account said I had 0RR, when the deal was buy a SIM card and get 50RR opening balance. Off to Beeline to sort it out. Which they did – your phone is blocked, they said. Try and find a Nokia agent, or Vodaphone partner to unblock it. One customer suggested a rival company might be able to help. As they were just over the street, it sounded like a plan.
Into their office and explain the situation. “I bought the SIM card at Beeline, and my phone isn’t working. Can you help?” “You bought the card at Beeline not here?” “Yes, it seems to be blocked.” Repeat lines 2 & 3 until finished. Which took about 5 minutes. Finally, the young lady called my phone from an office line, and it rang. She hung up and called back from my phone. It worked. Amazing. Thank you, I said. Russia is wonderful and strange, but the people are great.
Next: The Man Shortage