Classes went smoothly today. In the afternoon the students were to meet with their language coaches at 2:00, but the majority of them did not realize this. Minor mess: I had assumed that the person who did most of the scheduling would inform the students of the schedule, and she, on the other hand, assumed that I had sent them a schedule that she had compiled but that I did not receive. (I'll double check. I don't think I received it. If I did, I will be abashed.) Anyway, it's clear that it is the better part of caution for me to micromanage communications on both our sides for now. Can do. It makes me laugh, though. The Russians have a proverb «Первый блин — комом», which means “The first crepe comes out like a dirt clod”; that is, the first time you do something, things come out poorly. It applies here. Still, on the whole, the first week went fairly well, and I am favorably impressed by the adaptability of the current academic coordinator here to deal with those things. I'll have to think of some gift to give her; something sufficiently minor to not be embarrassing, but sufficiently nice to say that her work is appreciated, and sufficiently neutral for her not to think that I am coming on to her. (She is sufficiently young that she would probably not think that, but my previous experience in Russia makes me want to be cautious in that regard.)

In the afternoon while walking home, I decided to explore a side street whose shops had signs I couldn't quite make out. Crossing over I spotted at a coffee shop two familiar faces from our local school. They waved and shouted a hello, so I stopped to chat. Sam and William have been here a month studying Russian. Sam is a grad student and about to head home, and William has another month. The conversation was fascinating. Both concurred that on the whole their time with our local partner had been very good. Very encouraging, that.

On the other hand, they made me much more worried about the local police. Each time a policeman walked by, they stopped talking in English. I asked whether someone had officially made that suggestion to them, and they said no, that their own experience and the local experience of others had suggested the approach. We were seated outside, with Sam and William next to a wall covered with windows. I was seated with my back to the sidewalk, which meant that I could see the traffic behind me clearly in the reflection of the windows. The longer we sat, the more often it seemed that policemen walked by. Eventually there was a moment where four policemen stood some distance behind us. Sam and William commented to the effect that the police were definitely checking us out, and my own observations in the reflections of the window completely supported that interpretation. Eventually the police walked away. The establishment we were buying coffee from belongs to a proprietor from New Zealand, and I rather wonder if that fact, combined with the fact that we were merely sitting down drinking coffee and water, perhaps made them think we weren't quite the optimal target.

This was an odd sensation. I've never once worried about the police and the potential need to bribe them in Russia. Back home in the States I never worry about the police. Why would they hassle me if I'm not doing something wrong? But wages are so low in KG that the police apparently try to supplement their income with bribery.

So what exactly is the average yearly wage in KG? It sounds like a simple question, but economic questions of this type are in fact never simple. A recent NPR article suggests that the country's average annual income is $3,400. UNECE statistics quoted in one Wikipedia article suggest $5,100. With numbers like that you can imagine the temptation for poorly paid people to do things that strike one as immoral.

I may now have to rethink my advice to our local students. These kids, though kids relative to me, are still adults. Most likely I need to simply give them the full data as I currently have it, give my own suggestions, and let them come to their own conclusions.