Covering the business of education and training

   Two years and a lot of red tape later, I stepped off the plane in Khabarovsk, Far East Russia, located on the southern edge of Siberia. Khabarovsk was the second to last stop on the Trans-Siberian railroad from Moscow to Vladivostok. It really is cold in Siberia. It is said that when the Ruskies tell jokes in November no one laughs until March, when the words thaw out. Maybe there is a connection to why the commies were so cold hearted as well, I thought.

    Galya, the department chair of the language institute where I was the visiting scholar was called zaichik, (Little Rabbit) by the faculty under her charge. She greeted me with, “Welcome, my ptitsa (Little Bird)”, though I was at least twice her size. These affectionate exchanges puzzled me. Why not tovarish, comrade? That’s what Russians were supposed to call one another, I thought.