vlad.tribnet.com / Issue #549 / Vladivostok by Braille / Reading article...

As part of my attempt to integrate into the Vladivostok community, I thought I had to go to the theatre at least once. Last week was my chance, as some of my friends were going to see the play ‘A streetcar named desire’. Like any experience in Vladivostok, it was completely different from what I am used to.

Preparations were basically the same as I am used to having them in the Netherlands, except for one thing. My Russian understanding is still not sufficient, and the Philistine I am, I have never seen ‘A streetcar named desire’ before. So before I could go, I had to look up a plot summary of the play, if I wanted to be able to understand anything that night. No problem at all with modern information technology like the all-mighty internet.

After that was taken care of, there was that little bit of excitement, which I always feel when I am going to the theatre. Of course I also stood in front of the closet for longer than necessary, trying to figure out what to wear for the big event. I was not sure if a Russian theatre involved any kind of dress code, so just to be on the safe we tried to look as nice as possible.

Once nicely dressed, as usual, the panic broke out, when it turned out my roommate did not exactly remember where she left the tickets. I think theatre tickets are jinxed, you always know exactly where they are, except on the night you actually need them. Just in time my roommate found the tickets again. One last look in the mirror– is that lipstick still in place? –and we were off.

We arrived at the theatre right in time. We saw that our choice to dress up a little was a good one, as most people looked really nice. Apparently we were not the only ones to take a night at the theatre seriously, at least, we thought. As we took our seats, a voice from the speakers requested us to switch off our mobile phones. I checked mine again, like I had done a hundred times already before I left. My phone ringing on such an occasion is one of my worst nightmares. It happened to me once in class in the Netherlands, and I was so ashamed I have made a habit of being overcautious about it.

One of my friends told me the request was of no use, since, according to her, nobody would actually switch off their phones. Well, I thought, is that not a little to paranoid? Why would she insist on thinking the worst of people?

She turned out to be right. During the play at least twenty phones rang. I was very amazed by this, especially because no one seemed to be shocked about their phone ringing. Perfectly paced and not at all disturbed by their mistake, most people took their time getting their phone out of their bags. And here is the most surprising part: they did not turn them off! A lady next to me patiently replied to her text message and got a new one after that. This repeated itself about four times.

This made me think about classes at the Russian school. A similar phenomenon goes on there. Instead of switching off a phone that disturbed a lesson, most students and teachers simply answer the phone in class.

Maybe this is just one of these things I have to learn to get used to. Maybe this is just the way things are done in Russia.

Still, my respect goes out to the Russian actors, probably the best in the world, as they are able to keep their concentration for a not very thankful audience. In my eyes, after weeks of rehearsals and hard work, these people might expect an audience that is quite more willing to completely dedicate themselves to the play, for just an hour or two.