Bad moon rising

Last night I had dinner with a fascist: sounds like a Morrissey song title, but it's not, it's what I actually did do! So, I went for dinner at the house of one of my colleagues, my new friend. Although her views are somewhat extreme on certain subjects we avoided any conflicting opinions and instead discussed more mundane matters such as food and cultural differences. She fed me traditional food made by her mother-in-law, she fed me cups of tea and biscuits, and she tried to convince me to become an orthodox Christian. It was a pleasant evening. I had to get there on my own and her flat is miles away from the safe confines of my house and the office, so I was bundled into a taxi by another Russian teacher who reassured me that I wouldn't be charged more than 100 roubles, as she explained to the taxi driver that I am foreign and don't speak Russian, surely an invitaion to rob me. But after driving through the town at dusk, seeing the glories of the building sites and other tourist attractions through the windows of a skoda in the dying light of day listening to Tanita Tickerum, I was not robbed. The driver took his 100 roubles and happily drove off into the now dark evening. It turns out he did kind of rob me, as my journey home only cost 70 roubles.

Ok, now for the spiritual gobbedly gook, the moon here when it is full is bizarrely bright and low. It prevents me from sleeping because it literally feels like there's a car headlight shining directly into my bedroom. Every four weeks I have experienced the same probem. It's weird (stay with me here cynics), but it has a presence that makes it impossible to sleep, it feels like it's watching you. It's like an episode of Northern Exposure. Am I living in reality or in a surreal tv comdey? The boundaries are becoming increasingly blurry. Or maybe I'm just cracking up with the isolation.