machina

As my Russian teacher told me, "We have no culture of driving in this country." Boy, am I finding out what THAT means! Before I started driving, I asked several ex-pats what their experiences were in the car. The piece of advice that sticks in my mind is to pay attention to the arrows.

Last Friday, I started driving. Another teacher (Kat) and I were longing to go SHOPPING. While there's no Target here, there is a nice, large grocery store called Окей (Okay). We set off with high hopes after the worst of the Friday night rush hour had passed--at about 7:30 p.m. At the end of my block was a street that I thought was a one-way street. Kat saw this arrow on a sign and said I could turn right.

Of course, it WAS a one-way street...and not the way we were going. After several helpful drivers calling, "Devochka, devochka, you're going the wrong way." we found a wider space and made a 157-point turn. When we'd turned around we were face to face with a militsia car--lights and sirens full blast.

We gulped and then had a sort of guilty relief when the militsia jumped out and grabbed a guy on the street corner. He took him around the corner, so we weren't able to see what was going on. (Thankfully.) Meanwhile, traffic backed up behind us.

A tour bus was directly behind us. The driver, after waiting a bit, got out and tried to move the militsia car!! He apparently couldn't drive a stick because it stalled immediately. So, the driver recruited some other drivers and pushed the car out of the street. We fled.

(**note: If you're seeing question marks instead of photos, my apologies. Click on the question mark to see the photo. Did I put too many photos on for blogger to handle? Anyone?)





It turns out, these are the arrows to which you're supposed to pay attention.








Now, in all fairness, the signs here are confusing. It's as if no one
scheme has been decided upon. This, clearly is a "no turn" sign.










And this, clearly, is a must-turn sign.









So, putting our experiences together (and noticing a large barrier to our left) we can deduce that this means me must go straight and may not turn left. Easy, right? We can logically deduce what these signs mean. No problem.




Problem. What, exactly, is this supposed to mean? The blue arrow says turn right...but it has the same sign that we saw earlier that meant no-right-turn. Having walked and driven on this street, I can tell you that you may, indeed turn right here.






All this deduction and second guessing makes familiar signs like these a relief.





Signs are only the beginning of the challenges of Russian driving. There is a very loose concept of lane-age here. Look at this picture. It's right by the Field of Mars. (Turn right to go to school across Troitsky Most, continue straight to the vet.) Looking at this sign, and at the lines in the street, how many lanes would you say were here? Two? HA! You obviously have NOT driven in Russia. This is a trick question. The correct answer is: as many as you can fit. I was driving here the other day when there were FIVE lanes of traffic just scraping by each other. The only good thing is, when it's that congested no one is moving very quickly.

In the city centre, there are very, VERY few streets that allow left turns. Since St. Petersburg is a. not built on a grid, and, b. intersected by canals, this makes driving QUITE a challenge. Okay, I find it more than challenging. I find it ridiculous. Although you cannot turn left, a U-turn is permitted nearly everywhere. To go shopping we cross a bridge and, instead of turning left, flip a U-turn in the middle of the next block and then turn right.

This is one of my favourite signs. It' on the way home from the vet. As you can see, the left lane must go straight. The right lane may either turn right OR turn right and then fill up three lanes of traffic after making U-turns.








But, I've safely managed to get to Okay three times. (Twice in the rain...and my car seems to have a leak that causes the wipers to short out and NOT work...but only when it's raining. Helpful.)





And, just for Kerry (so post a comment, KERRY, so I can take this down. It seems wrong to have this information posted publically... though I'm not sure why...) here are my RED diplomatic plates!

(edited to add: thanks for the comment. Photo is safely deleted.)

pochta

Today I checked my mailbox. This may not sound like blog-worthy news. This may sound like I'm realllly scraping the bottom of the topic barrel. But, the thing is, I don't receive any local post. All my post arrives at school via the consulate.

I have checked the mailbox before. I've collected bills for my landlord twice and found an IKEA catalogue mass-mailed once. But, generally, I just pass it by and make my way upstairs.

I've been thinking, fleetingly, ever since I filed my I600A in Moscow that I should call and let them know that my physical address is not my mailing address. I've thought that I should check and see if anything is in there. But, I haven't acted.

Today I checked my mailbox. In it, there was a letter! It was addressed to me, in Russian. The only English were the words THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA and below that, a bit smaller, OFFICIAL BUSINESS. I opened and my eyes darted all over the page. (Being a methodical person, one who never reads the end of the book first, this was not my usual mode of reading.) They landed on the bold, capitalized print that said, "NOTICE OF FAVORABLE DETERMINATION CONCERNING APPLICATION FOR ADVANCE PROCESSING OF ORPHAN PETITION".

I was suddenly in the middle of a joy bubble, covered in sunlight, buoyed up by hope. I felt a bit like Sally Field when she delivered her famous, "You like me" acceptance speech. Someone has approved me for adoption! My country is behind me! THEY approve me!

I'm hoping this is the start of good things to come, the ending of the impasse. Thanks for sharing the beginning of the end.
Kate

koshkee

I mentioned earlier (much earlier...last March, I think, in the "Maslenitsa" post) how pagan traditions still are a part of everyday life. Superstitions here are rampant--and strictly adhered to. It is much more serious than the jesting, game-like way we treat similar occurrences in the US. I'll tell you more later, if you like, but here are a few that center on Russians views of cats.

If someone gives you a cat, you must give them a coin in return. Paper money is not acceptable. You must also give someone a coin if they give you a knife or scissors to ensure that the knife will not cut you. I'm wondering if giving a coin for a cat prevents scratching and/or biting. (In which case, it didn't work. Lena is very bite-y despite the giving of a coin.)

Three-coloured cats are lucky. Blue cats are lucky, too. (I'd really like a little Russian Blue...) Beazy is a torti, so she should be "full of luck" I'm told.

If you see a cat washing its face, company is on the way.

If a black cat crosses your path, it's a seriously bad omen. Cars will stop and let another car pass in order to avoid the black cat's bad tidings. Apparently, the bad luck is only visited on the first person to cross the cat's path.

Only cats can communicate with the domovoy, or spirit of the home. (This spirit, while generally kind is also temperamental and intolerant of laziness. It lives in the doorway of a house. That is the reason you do not shake hands over a doorway or give or accept anything across a doorway. You might disturb the temperamental domovoy which, in turn, would lead to strife.)

Instead of a bride being carried over the threshold, a cat is often let in first to entice benevolent spirits and tell the domovoy what's going on, who's coming in and to be nice.

If a person enters a new house before a cat, the person will die.

Perhaps this cat/domovoy relationship is why cats are said to absorb all evil that enters your door. One of my friends said, knowing the trials I'm facing and hearing of my cats' illnesses, "Just think, Katya, how awful things would be for you if you didn't have your cats! They have taken on so much bad for you."

And lastly, a Russian proverb: He that denies the cat skimmed milk must feed the mice cream.

Kate

ps Beaze seems a bit better.

sick kitty

Thanks for all your comments and e-mails about my poor, sick kitty. Beazy still feels rotten. She won't eat, groom herself or play. The big, head vet (who speaks a little English) saw her today and was very puzzled. Her blood work is worse. They don't know what to do.

On Friday, I stayed home from school. All Thursday night and Friday I fed her 6-9 ml of food every 3-4 hours. She seemed a little better (her eyes were nearly white again and she was more alert) before the vet visit, but now seems much worse. I think, from my reading, that she needs food and antibiotics. What we're doing now is once or twice daily (it's been increased to twice again after four days at once) visits to the vet for the iv treatments of saline, glucose, vitamins and medication. It takes about an hour in the morning and about two hours in the evening. (Traffic) She hates it.

Tomorrow I see the vet who speaks a little English (the woman--not the head honcho). I'm going to ask her why we're re-doubling her treatments if it's not improving her blood work and is not making her feel better. I may even ask about putting her just on an antibiotic and an appetite stimulant. I'm wondering if I could even administer those at home. They don't do feeding tubes here, so all feeding has got to be done via syringe until she'll eat.

But, then I wonder if the iv really is helping...but she SO hates it. She's on her third leg to have a catheter in. I don't know what happens when we run out of legs.

Wish there were better news to share, but all fronts (Beazy, school, adoption) continue to be fraught with cheerless tales.

title-less

Well, my sick cat has gotten much sicker. Beazy hasn't been eating and has been vomiting. The vets didn't take it very seriously (standard iv cocktail of vitamins daily) until my other cat got sick, too. Then, they treated both a BIT more aggresively. The cocktail had a few added ingredients--and I had to go find some GEPTRAL for them. Lena has recovered, but Beazy is still very, very ill. All the advice I get is to prepare myself for her to die. Not really the American can-do attitude. I haven't been able to locate the contact details of the last vet Beazy saw in the US, so it's just me and the Russian-speaking, Russian-thinking veterinary world. Those are pretty tough odds.

I finally convinced the vet to give her an antibiotic, and that seemed to help. I'm spending a couple hours each day, morning and night, getting iv treatments. I'm now force-feeding her, too. Things are grim.

One vet, the one I like, told me that she "believed seh would be okay, maybe on Monday". (No wonder I like her.) She also asked when we were going back to the US. I'd take her back this week, but don't think she'd clear customs in her current state. (She's pretty yellow. Cats try to metabolize body fat when they stop eating. Their bodies cannot do this, and it causes serious problems with the liver.)

So--time for The Glad Game. I'm glad that the nice vet was there to encourage me. I burst in to tears in the office. I'm glad that I finally have my car so that I can now DRIVE to and from the vet. I'm glad the nurses and even the doctors have been so nice lately. I'm glad they realize all Beazy's "talking" is just talk. I'm glad they're being sympathetic towards instead of fearful of her.

I'll tell you all about driving in St. P next time. Maybe I'll have some good adoption news then, too! I'm still waiting for housing verification...or for the MoE to reconsider what proof is required of me. (This needs to happen SOON!)

Sorry to be away and then to have so little cheer to share. And many, many thanks for all the kind birthday cards, packages and e-cards. I apologize for not taking the time to thank you sooner! I was delighted to recieve each and every one.

little things

I was once given a notepad that said, "Teachers make the little things count." This made me laugh hysterically. Seeing past the Hallmarky-sap, I immediately saw myself bellowing to a class of monsters, "Count, you little THINGS!"

There are two little things (of the non-monstrous variety) that have made my day. BBC Prime is up and running. Target will ship to APO addresses. (Julie said to me once--quite insightfully--about life in Russia: "No Target. You are a true pioneer.")

So, now my tv speaks English (although I find that Top Gear is on WAY too often for my taste...) and I can go to Target, where Lara says the sun always shines.

Hope this little post about the little things in my life makes you appreciate the little things in yours!

ex-pats

Votemom asked about the term, "ex-pat". (I think she sensed from the last few entries that I needed a little direction. ;>)

The first reported use of this term is noted in 1768. The French word expatrier
meaning "banish" is from the Latin roots ex- meaning "out of" and patrie meaning "native land". It is interesting (you all know I'm both a word nerd and a history buff, so calling this "interesting" should not surprise anyone) to note the change in connotation over the years. When first introduced, it had a decidedly negative connotation. Traitors were expatriated--relieved of their citizenship and banished from their homelands. They were exiles.

Slowly the word changed. In 1818, it was used to mean "one who moves abroad" without the taint of traitordom.

Then, after WWI, we had that lot of moody American authors who expatriated themselves to Paris. I find them a spoiled and discontented bunch...and I don't much like their work.

The modern sense of the word is simply "living abroad, especially for a long but limited time". That is what separates an ex-pat from an immigrant. An immigrant moves abroad with the intention of adopting a new culture and a new citizenship. An ex-pat plans to go home.

I find that the term "ex-pat" often has negative connotations. It seems to refer to a smaller group than the above definition would suggest. That smaller group is usually one of privilege--businessmen, diplomats and their families--who spend a lot of money and are either ignorant or contemptuous of the culture where they are currently living. They are the international equivalent of homesick "ladies who lunch".

The Brits call ex-pats When-I's because of the tendency they have to start sentences with that phrase. I know I fall into that camp! I'm forever wanting to share my experiences of living abroad. I find it fascinating! I read about a woman who was an anthropologist. Her job was to live in other cultures and discover the "rules" that govern social interaction. That made me think that I actually AM an anthropologist...and wonder where I could go collect that paycheck. In defense of the When-I's who may be seen as braggadocious (not to be confused with expialidocious), sometimes these pop out just because that's our life. We don't have any other experience to share. And, yes, we may think that everyone is an amateur anthropologist and will find it as interesting as we do.

I do call myself an ex-pat in adherence to the denotation of the word. I hope I don't embody the negative connotations of the sub-group! And, I hope you find the When I's that fill this blog interesting.


So there you have it--etymology, denotation and connotation. Hopefully the other logophiles out there found this interesting...and the rest of you will bear with me and at least find this better than talking about laundry!

vinegar?

Thanks M & S (no, not Marks & Sparks) for the vinegar tip. Will it make my clothes smell like vinegar? Do I wash them again afterwards to get rid of the vinegar smell? How much do I put in? I have a front loading washing machine. Do I put the vinegar in the bleach compartment?

I'm thrilled to have a possible solution! I'll share it with the American teacher I was talking to AND with the the Scottish teacher who brought up the subject today. See what exciting lives we ex-pats live?

Cheers,
Kate

airing some dirty laundry

Warning: due to the graphic and rather gross nature of this post, reader discretion is advised.

Another ex-pat teacher and I were recently discussing how horrible we smell. We've got extra deodorant at school, we shower in the morning and bathe at night...and still we reek. There must be something in the food here. (We don't drink the water, so it's not that...) It's not that we eat "Russian" by any means. We're eating chicken, rice, pasta, fruit and veg, skim milk when it's available fresh...all foods we eat in the US. But here we're staring to smell native.

And this isn't any ordinary "glistening". This stuff is toxic. If you even start to "glisten" (horses sweat, men perspire, ladies glisten) in a shirt, you might as well throw it out. You will NEVER get the smell out. You can douse it with Febreeze (brought from home) wash it immediately in hot or cold water, dry it or not...and it doesn't matter. When it's clean and dry, it will smell like it's fine. You will rejoice. You will think you have conquered. But as soon as you put it on the toxic smell is body-heat re-activated.

Bet those of who were wishing I'd hurry up and post an update are re-considering your wish, aren't you?

So, if anyone has any great laundry insights, puzhalsta pass it on to us poor ex-pats in St. P.

a plate full of nothing

How can this be? My plate is overwhelmingly full, as the allusion goes, and yet...

I have no car. The car I was supposed to have 1 July is still not transferred to my name. It might start being transferred next week, but it might not. And, it might cost quite a bit more than I anticipated to de-register it when I leave if I cannot sell it.

I have no garlic, onions, potatoes, parmesan or skim milk. Truth be told, all that's in my 'fridge is yogurt, some dodgy juice, ketchup, pricey soy sauce and LUSH products. The freezer holds frozen fruit. (I was on a fruit drink kick when it was hot, but now that it's cooled off...not so much.) I'm making soup and chicken & rice to get me through the week until I get to the store. I do have a bag of frozen red currants on my stomach because I burned myself cooking my last package of chicken breasts. I have no frozen peas, but the currants are working well.

I have no adoption news. I'm waiting for letters from other people to arrive so that I can get answers from the MoE committee. Therefore, I have no control over when we schedule our next meeting to get some answers about how to proceed.

I have no BBC Prime, although they assure me that the card is on it's way. I thought it was amusing that my cable guy (yes, I meant to use the possessive) told me regretfully that all the satellites here have been reset so that now people have to buy the channel subscriptions legally. There was no remorse for the pirating done previously--just regret that those days were over.

I have no more episodes of X-files to watch. I've seen them all--and the movie, too--in chronological order. (I have to say, that I think Dogget is a well-written, well-acted character. He's just not Mulder. And, really, we all want to see Mulder and Scully.)

I have no joy in second grade yet. My class is HIGH maintenance. Right now I feel like I'm playing whack-a-mole. As soon as I sort out one issue, another pops up. And, it's not uncommon to have several issues/moles rearing their little heads simultaneously. We will, we MUST, get this sorted soon. It's only been four days...

I have no idea where we'll perform the school play ("Peter Pan" this year). Auditions are tomorrow.

I have no time.

I have no patience with blogger's spell-check which makes ridiculous suggestions when I type too fast and miss a letter.

I have had no blogs updates for a week! I'm sorry. Thanks for hanging in there. Looks like this is the norm for the next two months...

I hope your plates are emptier, or, at the very least, have less "nothing" on them.

dashed

I thought I'd better dash off a quick post before you all lose interest and abandon the blog.

Yes, it's that time of year again. It's the time when I cease being a person and begin being a teacher. I've spent the last week getting my classroom ready for a new group of kiddos. I was one of three teachers in our school who didn't move classrooms this year. I was pleased as my classroom is inarguably the best in the school. I should've had the easiest set-up of everyone this year. Instead, I decided to paint. Never have I ever painted a room that has taken even half as long as painting this room. (And, since I'm in Russia, it took an entire day to get the paint...) So, it's Sunday night, parents and students arrive tomorrow and I'm not as ready as I'd like. I refused to go in today, so it'll be an early morning tomorrow.

"Peter Pan" starts next week. That means even LESS time for me (although I feel more like a person than I do when I'm teaching) and less time for the blog. I'll keep you posted--but I'm sure the posts will be less frequent until mid-October. Please stay tuned...

No adoption news. The MoE committee will not answer any further questions until my home ownership is sorted. Since I'm feeling rather conspicuous as the first ex-pat adopting in St. P, it's best for me to say little. I feel like it's that mythical 22 years ago with big brother, indeed, watching.

Must dash!

case in point

I have long maintained that Ohio is the most bureaucratic state. This is not a good thing, imho (please read h as "humble" ). In fact, that aforementioned long-maintained statement is generally preceded by a vehement, "This is the most poorly run state I've ever been in!"

I don't think it's a coincidence that while trying to update my license online, I was directed *not* to the Department of Motor Vehicles for Ohio, but rather to the BUREAU of Motor Vehicles. HA! I rest my case.

And now a little quiz to make up for my spewing. Take it and see which Princess Bride character you are--and then let us all know! As you can see below, I am most like Westley (as in "Oh, my sweet"). I, nach, was a little upset at not being the lovely heroine, but concede that the quiz is probably right. Loyal, clever and loving sounds pretty accurate...and very flattering. ;>

Which Princess Bride Character are You?
this quiz was made by mysti

The Dread Pirate Kate

charming

On the bottom of my acting resume, under the heading "Special Skills" there is a list of random things I can do that a casting director may find useful. At the end of that line, right after stage combat, it says "child charming".

I am a child charmer. I don't use a pipe and a basket, but I do seem to captivate children. Some of this is experience. But most of it, I think, is that I simply understand children. The same things that make me a good actor or a good psych student--excellent focus and listening skills and lots of empathy, the ability to play or be very still, a grasp of motivation--make me a child charmer. I guess.

I'm very confident around children. I feel like I know what I'm doing. Then I started reading about adopting post-institutionalized (pi) children. So many things about interacting with them is different. I encourage independence in children. PI children are too independent. They have spent their lives fending for themselves and need to be taught to trust and be dependent upon a parent.

Both spanking and time-outs are ineffective discipline measures. Spanking (and we're not talking in-the-heat-of-the moment; I mean calmly, lovingly, matter-of-factly with reconciliation afterwards), when you don't know the history of abuse, can be traumatizing or, at the very least, counter-productive. Time away from the scary world of "attaching" and being close is exactly what these children want. It is not a punishment to have time away from Mom--it's comforting, familiar territory.

Co-sleeping (in the same room or the same bed) is highly recommended for attachment. Watching videos/tv facilitates language building. (I still think I may be able to outtalk the tv...) Healthy food available 24/7 is advised to reduce hoarding behaviours. These are not things that I anticipated doing as a parent.

I was talking to my sister about these differences and she said that by adopting I'm levelling the playing field. That no one is supposed to know anything when having a child. (Amy, Lara thought that was very funny.)

I know that all the differences above are suggestions and "book learning"; that each child is unique and reacts according to both her own past experiences and her own personality. I'm glad I've read it, though. It will help when d2b gets home and we have to start peeling away past hurts and insecurities. (That made me think of Eustace in "The Voyage of the Dawn Treader" when Aslan takes off his thick, dragon skin and leaves him feeling very small and tender.) It's good to have someplace to start. But, I still think a little "deep listening" and child charming will stand me in good stead.

parading

When I was growing up, Colorado Springs was a small city (it's not anymore) and Manitou Springs was tiny. Manitou is...up (please--did you really expect a cardinal direction from me?) from Co. Spgs. It is such a small town that when we were growing up their parades did not include any horses. There was no budget for clean-up.

A parade in Colorado is not a parade if it's horseless. So, the Manitou parade folk decided to let local children be the horses. They could dress up in any horse-like ensemble they wanted and be in the parade. One year, my sister and I were in the parade. I wish I could post pictures of that for you. I know there are pictures of it because we were in the paper--but I don't have them. Trust me--we were so cute. I know we marched along and there were other kids on bikes and in stollers. There were bands playing, people waving from convertibles and spectators lining the streets. We were part of the parade.

Here in Russia, there are many, many parades.Every holiday gets a parade. But, the parades are not a group effort (except for Victory Day when everyone turns out). Parades here are one group of people marching. They might get a police escort before and after, but generally life just goes on around them. There are no crowds lining the streets. They parade simply for themselves. I find this a little odd.

Last week there was a parade outside my window. When I called a friend to ask why, she told me it as "some military day". It was a bigger parade than ususal--they'd blocked off the street and more people were involved. This parade lasted about four minutes. Below are some photos for your enjoyment. Didn't want to let this parade pass you by...

re: the committee meeting

Thank you for all of your prayers and good wishes. I
went into the meeting today feeling confident.
But, things seem a little grim right
now...

The committee was two women in an office. It
didn't look anything like the X-files--no csm in
sight. Both women were nice and helpful.
However, there is a big problem with my petition
because I do not own property in the US anymore.
I was told previously that having my residency
letter from the consulate was enough, but things
seem to have changed.

Two of my agency reps will go back and present my case again on
Thursday, and will hopefully reach a better
conclusion. My agency is confident and encouraging.

More then...
Kate

turn around

My meeting tomorrow is at 3:00 p.m. I'm actually looking forward to it now. Thank you all for your prayers on my behalf. They have certainly helped to alter my attitude! I'll let you know how it goes.

Kate

dom, sladkee, dom

I love this picture. These are the stairs leading up to my flat. It's really an imposing entryway--wide, clean and with these amazing stained glass windows. Sadly, you can see that one was destroyed. I'm amazed that ONLY one was destroyed. These stairs give you an idea of how grand this building once was. A friend is doing some research for me to find out who used to live here.

This is my re-vamped living room. I slipcovered everything, bought new curtains (PB) and a rug (IKEA), and put up pictures. I think I've managed to banish the brown!

Obviously, it's the kitchen. It opens to the living room with a large arch. On the 'fridge are pictures of my neice and nephew, my friends' children and my "hottie brothers" (so christened by friends in England). Yes, there are more PB slipcovers here. I wasn't a big fan of the slipcover until I lived in a flat full of furniture that I did not choose. These chairs are very 70's--curved frame with a floating, holey, wicker seat. Hence the slipcovers.



d2b's room and wardrobe are still works in progress... PBK quilt, Laura Ashley duvet, cuddly toys from Sainsbury's UK and a bear I bought ages and ages ago, a Noah's Ark poster from my first year teaching (paid for with my own money rather than school funds b/c I knew I'd want to hang it in my child's room someday)...and Hannas sized for ages 2-6. (note to Mom: This does *not* mean that you can start shopping. ;> )

Here is my room. Note its lovely green-with-pine-boughs wallpaper. Ugh!

An attempt to show you how tall my ceilings are. Do you see the step down in front of the fireplace? I think that was the original floor level for all the rooms. (That's the level you enter the flat, too. There's a space to leave your shoes and then you take a step up for the rest of the flat.) Then, when they rennovated this to "Western standard", they put all the wiring, plumbing, etc. in the floors. The door leads to the family bath. What's on the mantle? It's covered by the wrap I wore to Lara's wedding. On it you'll find a tiara Faith made me out of sparkly pipe cleaners, a panda Mary Helen got me (looong ago) and made a fringed dress for and a photo of me and Mads from when she was a little squirt back in NC.

Here is my giant wardrobe collage! It's an original made with paintings and drawings, photographs, greeting cards and treasures. The Miller sibs are here. And, there is original artwork by both the Hoggan girls. My favorite sleepy picture of Emily in Wyoming is up there, too.

The aforementioned family bath. I've done my best to disguise the pumpkin-coloured tiles by adding lots of white--and the striped IKEA curtain. The floors are heated. The washer and dryer are in here, too. It's a nice, large bathroom. (Click to see the pic if photobucket is being cantankerous. The image has been neither moved nor deleted.)

And, the guest room. It's a funny shape, so it's hard to photograph. The walls are orange(!) so I've tried to work with that...not easy for a "winter" like me...

There's a guest bath, too, but it's the same tiles as the family bath, so I won't bother with a pic. (It has a cute, Target, polka-dot shower curtain and three dot IKEA rugs.)

That's all for now! Hope you've enjoyed the tour of my palatial flat. You can see now, perhaps, why I was so happy to stay.
Kate

New Address

Notice how I avoided a clever title to this post. I wanted you to be able to find this post quickly when you have something to mail me. (My birthday isn't too far away...) This is a US address, so you save tons of money on postage.

Me, AASSP
PSC 78, box L
APO, AE 09723

The best news, although it's not news so I'm very sorry for not getting the word out sooner, is that I'm staying in my flat for another year. When the school went to sign for my new flat (which was much smaller and not v. child-friendly), the landlord upped the price by $100 pcm. Deciding that was NOT the sort of person they wanted to be dealing with, they called it off. Hooray! So, I'm still at my flat.



The top four windows on the left are mine. I'll take you on a tour in the next post...

Cheers,
Kate

in the aftermath

I just felt gobsmacked during that last post. This visit was just so unexpected. After sending out some e-mails and trying not to hyperventilate (never had that problem before), I decided to walk to school. (It's only a mile away.) Walking is always a good choice for me. I do some of my best praying on my feet. I knew there were boxes of books and dvds that I'd shipped from England. And, I hoped there would be something else.

I bumbled around trying to find a sock that I kept losing. At the time, this was all-consuming. Finally dressed, I headed out. I didn't do much praying. I was still breathing unsteadily and certainly didn't want to burst into tears as I was crossing Troiksy Most. My heart and my mind were racing. But, I was able to do a little praying. I was able to ask the Holy Spirit to intercede for me and to take every step, every breath as a prayer. I calmed down. I know that I tend toward the dramatic at times (hey--that earned me a decent living, so don't knock it) and was ready for my calmer, more rational, logical self to return. I was also hoping.

My hopes were rewarded and those footstepped prayers answered! At school I found my notarized homestudy!! Remember that my sw didn't send it to be apostilled? She sent it to me? Hooray!! Now I have my homestudy to take with me on Tuesday. I haven't opened it, but I know it's here--and bears an all-important stamp. Confidence in a zip-up file!

On the way back, my mind and heart were still buzzing. I started thinking about a dress I'd bought in England. (I'm such a girl.) It's really lovely. When I spent too much money on it, I was trying to believe that I could wear it to court in March--rationalizing that a thin cotton dress would be perfect in the very warm court building in March...But now, I can wear it Tuesday! And, I've lost another two pounds since I've been back from England so I'm feeling thinner. Poise in a steel-blue dress!

So, confident and poised I'm ready for Tuesday. But if you'd keep praying for me, that would be even better.

Kate

butterflies--the tummy kind

I actually have two rough posts floating around in my head. But you're not getting those today because the butterflies have taken priority.

Remember that my agency rep here was going to ask the committee some questions about how I would fill out my paperwork? I just heard that I have to go before the committee on Tuesday to answer some questions. I'm a little nervous.

I'm hoping I can find out more about what they want to know before I go...

Yes, really big, miracle-grown butterflies dancing around inside me.

I don't suppose anyone has had to see the committee before their dossier was submitted, have they?

Maybe this is good? Maybe by going now I'll have a smoother time later on? Ohhh...me oh my. Surely they won't just tell me "nyet" right now, will they? Can they? Would they? WHY would they?

Pray.

5000 words

I know I promised an amzing post once I got the stripes figured out. But, this will be even better. I'm hoping these pictures of St. Petersburg from last winter will tide you over until the next post.



Here's The Church on Spilled Blood. Isn't this what Russia is supposed to look like?




Looking through a bridge at the Moika canal. The smaller canal you can see leads to the Neva.




This is looking across Palace Square at St. Isaac's Cathedral at sunset in December. I was on my way to church for a 4:00 service, so this is probably around 3:40 in the afternoon. St. Isaac's was the only building left un-camouflaged during the seige of Leningrad during WWII. The Russians rightly surmised that the Germans would need it to navigate by and would not destroy it.




Here is The Hermitage--or part of it, anyway.



This is my favourite bridge, Troitsky Most. I took this picture just before they turned the lights off. I love this one. It's one of my favourites.

These photos (taken by yours truly) are framed and hanging on my living room wall along with another of Trotsky Most.

Enjoy!

photobucket

Let me introduce you to our host, photobucket. Photobucket is a truly generous soul who has agreed to host my images for free. I copy them and hand them over. Then Photobucket lets me put them wheresoever I choose.

Hence the stripes!!

what did i do?

Or what didn't I do? I have stripes on mine. Why does no one else?

Help....HELP! Elle? (If your floors are clean and you've sneaked onto the computer...) Any ideas how I managed to do this?

I promise a FAB post once I get this place spruced up...

kate

Okay, this is very confusing. I just went and clicked on different sites that have links to my blog (thank you all--I'm always so chuffed. I wanted to add a blogroll but am now being met by my templating limitations...) and the stripes are there! Everywhere! So...why am I the only one seeing them?

Maybe this is my own X-file...(really, I need to get through these dvd's so we can move on...)


part III--I have a feeling this all has to do with hosting. Here is the sentence that makes me think that:
"Do not link directly to image files on the Anti-ivy.com servers."
I don't really know HOW, but I'm supposed to host the image. Hmmm...shall I offer it a cuppa?

part IV--Still working on it. Sent Anit-ivy an e-mail asking how to use their lovely stripes. They really are nice... I took the pattern off of the paper (er..didn't mean to, but...) and the plain light grey-blue paper is just as nice. And not so dizzying. BUT, I WANT MY STRIPES!! It's a crusade now.

dizzying

Okay, I know this is visual madness right now. But I'm trying to decide what I like--and figure out how to put it together. I REALLY like the stripe, but I've got a huge monitor and it's a little much here... The ivy is nice, too...and there's a mirror-image of it that could take the place of the stripe and really does look nice...but...I like the stripe.

You would not believe how much exploring and experimenting I've done to get this far. I've got to quit before I go blind. I'll work on it tomorrow...

uncommonly sensible

On Friday, I met with one of the people who work in my adoption agency's St. Petersburg office. I had some questions about the paperwork that I'm required to fill out, notarized, apostille (shows the notary is legit) and then send back to the US. In the US this could be tedious. Here, it's nearly impossible.

The US consulate will notarize items (for $30 each!), but they do not apostille. And, bringing my Russian doctor to the consular notary or vice versa is nearly impossible. Grasping at straws, I asked if I could have my documents notarized by a Russian notary.

I was floored by her response! She said that only made sense and didn't see why it would be a problem. She told me that only my sworn statements needed to be notarized by the Russian notary. She said that she would ask the committee

(Let's pause here and remember that I've been watching lots of X-Files lately. "The Committee" sounded capitalized and ominous--a lot of people in suits sitting around an enormous, dimly & moodily lit table making life-changing decisions...)

about how to handle my medical forms and my local police clearance. The US issued certified copies of my birth certificate and name change decree could be notarized and apostilled in the US. (My agency in the US offered to do this for me if I sent it to them!) She's also checking to see what to do about copies that aren't certified (1040, copy of passport).

I have said time and again, on this blog and to many people who have asked me for personal recommendations of an adoption agency, how happy I am with my choice of agency. And the reasons I always give are that they are a small, Christian agency with a lot of common sense. What more could a girl ask for?

poly-chotomy of the kateish spirit

I had to laugh at myself today. As someone wise once said-or should have said- The ability to laugh at oneself is a true sign of greatness.

I'd been to the consulate to pick up my post. I'd checked my e-mail, made an appointment for tomorrow with part of my agency's "Russian team", cleaned the catbox, ordered from Amazon and eaten dinner in front of an episode of Dateline sent to me by a forum friend. (Did you see this one? About the family who adopted three sets of twins from Russia? Wow.) It was only 8:30 and I had some time to kill before Sergei came (or didn't come) to fix my door at 10:00. What to do; what to do?

I made a cup of tea (really living the summertime life--caffeine after 6 p.m.) and wondered--X-Files or history of England?

That's what made me laugh. What a choice! And I was agonizing over it. Isn't it marvellous that we can have such disparate interests?

I take this for granted. I've always been encouraged to follow my interests and develop my talents (or to discover that my talents lie elsewhere!). I've had lessons in acting, singing, dance, painting, pottery, swimming, skiing, soccer, horseback riding, and a myriad of other things. Perhaps this has made me a dabbler rather than an expert. I prefer to consider myself a Renaissance woman.

This is not common amongst my Russian friends. When we were at a concert not long ago, I told my friend Marina that I thought, perhaps, I should learn to play the cello. She burst out laughing. She told me, "Katya, you are so wonderful. Who else would just say, 'I think I will learn to play the cello.'" You see, in her childhood, you specialized early and pursued that course and no other. The fact that someone over the age of 6--much less thirty years over the age of 6--would start learning the cello was novel to her.

I don't think we can blame the Soviets completely for this one. I'm often met in the US, the UK and all over the world, with expressions of, "Really? You____________?" when people learn that I horseback ride, enjoy watching the Broncos, type, tap, sew, coached undefeated soccer teams or do whatever. It's as if they think the world that they know me in--be it the theatre, the school or the church--is the only world I inhabit.

I, in turn, am surprised when people feel like they can do only ONE thing; that they've only pursued that one thing. To me, that seems like a small world. How can you only do one thing? Or, rather, how can you know that one thing is the one thing that you're best at; that it's the one thing that will make you happiest. (I'm going crazy with the semi-colons today.)

Maybe I just haven't grown up yet. When you ask a classroom of kindergartens who is a good artist, everyone raises their hands. The same response is met when you ask who is a fast runner, a good reader, a great dancer, a lovely singer, or can make the funniest face. By sixth grade, when you ask those questions, you often get a single hand raised for each role. Everyone has found their niche and, in the ways of the pre-teen, is not sure if they should venture out of it. If they leave their niche and someone else takes it, they'll be nicheless. (Thank you, Mr. Baltzer, for all those science classes.)

And you get to hear all this because I can't decide between Mulder & Scully and Lady Jane. (Interestingly, they both have very strong beliefs...hmm...)

Wishing you joy in your dabbling or your niche-ing this weekend. As for me, I think the truth is out there tonight. Though admiting that might cause me to lose my head later...

t.v. or not t.v.

Let's remember that I have had no BBC Prime (my only English channel with actual shows) since April. I've made my friend Inna, who is the school-appointed go-between for me and the landlord, less of my friend because I ask her about it every fortnight. (I've learned that asking once and assuming it's being taken care is not the best way to go about things here. Persistence gets both results and resentment.) I'm not a big tv watcher, but it's hard having NO tv. I've realized that and made peace with that fact. I hope you don't think less of me.

Today I called the landlord myself. (The audacity! The presumption!) He said he told Inna IN JUNE that the only way to get BBC Prime now is to buy the satellite card in England and install it here. Of course, I'm finding this out a week AFTER I RETURNED FROM ENGLAND! Why? WHY?

(I've e-mailed a friend in England who works for the Beeb to see if she can help. Fingers crossed...)

ketchup

When my class has many little projects that need finishing, we dispense with our usual morning journal (analogies, a number pattern, word problems, sentences with spelling and grammar mistakes ) and I draw a big bottle of ketchup on the board. They then know they can spend the morning "catching up". See? Ahh...primary school humor.

Yesterday, one of my students (well, she's in middle school but she was in the play so she's a little bit mine) became the first person to be confirmed in the Anglican Church in St. Petersburg since the Russian revolution. They are unsure if any Anglicans were confirmed prior to the revolution. While I'm not Anglican (I don't like to "read" church) the confirmation service was very special.

Of note to those who've visited this church: They're buying hymnals!! HOORAY!! Yesterday when the bishop was there for confirmation I only knew two of the hymns. That was one more than the rest of the congregation...I find it v. embarrassing.

Beazy is holding her own. She is much better at the injections than I am. She thanks you all for your concern and realizes she is a mere cat. (She is not, however, a meerkat.)

My flat is CLEAN!! Isn't that a great feeling? I mean it's lift-up-the-rugs-and-vacuum-the-underside, scrub-the-floors and wash-all-the-slipcovers-and-throws CLEAN. I love it.

I found a treasure at Heathrow. It's the first historical fiction book my favorite contemporary historian about my favourite and most kindred historical figure. How amazing is that? I couldn't bear to waste this book on the plane ride, so I bought a fluff book for that. Now, I'm diving in and trying to read slowly. Ahhh, the joys of a good book.

Tracy is psychic. I'm not driving yet, but will have a car at the beginning of August. It will have red diplomatic plates!

No other news of note to ketchup re: the adoption, when my satellite will be fixed or where I should leave my rubbish since they've put a lock on my courtyard. Ahh, the joys of ex-pat life!

send in the clowns

I'm back from England!

While I always enjoy my time in the UK, I was ready to come back to Russia. It was hot, expensive, and Medway isn't my favourite part of England. Still, I saw friends, some shows (one great, two good and one bad), and former students. I shopped for me and bought only essentials for the d2b (daughter to be--until something else strikes me). That was the expensive part. But, you'll be proud of me. I was VERY practical and limited my purchases to socks, tights and underwear. Of course, I bought them in sizes ranging from 18 months to 6... (Confession: I also bought books, dvds and two stuffed animals.)

The difference in the queues in the airports said it all. I left behind orderly lines, patient waiters, and efficient systems in Heathrow. After changing planes, I was in a line that didn't move that snaked around without rhyme or reason. The line was to get into the waiting area. The Russians around me were constantly moving up to hear what problems other people were having (mostly visas) and commenting on it to them, the officials, and everyone. (This reminded me of the same spirit that prompted helpful people to paw through my wallet while the-famous-Dawn was here shouting "Ten! Ten!" at various ticket-selling places. Communal spirit.)

At home, I found a sick cat! Beazy had been ill before I left, but things seemed to have cleared up. Not so. (And the catsitter didn't call me in England.) So, we've trekked to the vet twice in the last two days. Beazy weighs about 16 pounds and the vet is about a mile away. The nice vet we saw earlier hasn't been there and no one will tell me when she's back. Instead we saw a not-so-nice vet who cares for the animals in the St. P circus. There is a big poster of him and them in the waiting room. The not-so-nice vet mocked me for bringing in a stool sample (umm...THAT'S the problem), felt her stomach, and then prescribed a course of treatment that includes me INJECTING an antibiotic twice daily and schlepping the cat in for IV treatments at the vet every morning.

I've decided the iv part is ending tomorrow (a week early). The not-so-nice doctor has made the staff not-so-gentle. And, Beazy had a HORRIBLE vet visit in Ohio and is now terrified...and vocal. I checked things online and the iv has two drugs that look like they're for heart problems, something I can't track down, vitamin B12 and two things that look like acidopholus and something "natural". Hmm...

So, tomorrow I will tell them to take out the catheter in her forearm. They will resist. They will think I'm crazy. They will tell me that the doctor said it must continue. And then I will insist. Afterwards, I will trek to a pharmacist and try to convince them to give me the antibiotic in tablet form. If they won't (I don't have a stamp so have no authority) I'll buy novacaine (it gets mixed with her antibiotic) and syringes. I also need alcohol and something else...

This is crazy!! This also convinces me that a d2b with medical issues will be best served in the US. Euromed is better than circus doctors, but every journey here involves a little bit of tightrope walking.

Happy 4th!

I'll admit it. Starting around Easter I've approached holidays, seasonal events, etc. with the attitude of "This is the last.. X ..I'll spend this way. Next year I'll ..ZED."

So, as I sit in my red t-shirt, denim hat and light khaki cropped trousers cooking bbq chicken and watching the X-Files, I can't help but think that this is the last time I'll celebrate the birth of my country, for whom I'm so grateful and so proud, independently.

Happy independence day, everyone!

k8

ps Quote from the X-Files:

"Ninety-nine percent of the people in this world are fools and the rest of us are in grave danger of contagion."

I Should've Had a G8

There are times when St. Petersburg feels very familiar. Last month it was as if I was living on the street where I grew up in Colorado Springs. The city was full of the familiar smells of choke cherry trees and lilac bushes. The air was full of bits of floating cottonwood fluff (it's been variously attributed to birch and poplar trees as well). The weather was mild and the skies were blue. It was very familiar.

Then, there are times when I know I'm living in an unfamiliar land. Often, this strikes me not in climatic differences but in what I see as tremendous inefficiency. It frustrates me no end! I asked for internet access in August and got it in January. My satellite went out in April and I'm still waiting for it to be repaired. Office workers prepare for their month-long holiday by doing little work in the fortnight prior. After all, you'd hate to start something before your holiday. And I won't even begin to detail the ridiculous process involved in exchanging my broken mobile phone.

The worst part for me, as I've mentioned before, is the widespread acceptance of this inefficiency. "That's just how it is here." That's what they expect. If it's taking four months to make a phone call about my satellite, it must be because it's very difficult. Some of it, I think, is a holdover from Soviet times. Life was a game, work was a game. Since personal initiative and efficiency was not going to result in any recognition or personal gain, the object of the Soviet game was to do as little as possible while convincing everyone that what you DID do was as difficult as possible. That way your pay-per-accomplishment went up.

The G8 summit is coming to St. Petersburg in a few weeks. That has led to a flurry of activity--and inactivity. Things along the route the G8 members will take are being spruced up. Ugly new signs of the you-are-here variety have been erected all over the city centre. We're trying to make a good impression.

At the same time, the G8 is a HUGE excuse for not getting things done. And, it's a polically correct one at that. Do you remember in "Bridget Jones, The Edge of Reason" (Safari won't let me underline or italicize on blogger...must download mozilla...) when the roadworkers and hairdressers took off work in respect of the memory of Princess Diana? That's what I feel is going on here. While I know the this is a big deal, I find it difficult to fathom that everyday life has to come to a standstill for the G8 conference.

If only I'd known about this excuse sooner! Perhaps I wouldn't have had to do report cards or register my (now famous) friend Dawn when she came to visit. The sad thing is, I'll be gone for the G8. I'm headed to England to visit friends and former pupils. If only I'd planned better I could've had a G8.

Got Ink?

I've just heard about a group called Maria's Children. The following is from their website and a post from an adoption forum. While I don't have any firsthand experience with this group, I'm impressed by their website and mission statement. I place a high value on the arts as a way to learn many valuable lessons. Take a look at their website and see it for yourselves. The link is at the end. -Kate

"Maria's Children is a Moscow-based organization that provides arts therapy and training for Russian orphans. We offer an atmosphere in which children can recognize their creative potential, developing talents and self-esteem that will serve them in later life. By inviting these children into our homes, teaching them life skills, and exposing them to safe, loving family environments, we hope to improve their chances of successful integration into society." --Maria's Children website

And from an adoption forum: "They have programs in St. Petersburg, Dmitrov and now in Haiti, too, along with the U.S. based fund-raising organization. They raise funds in many ways, including selling items created with the artwork of the children. I bought Christmas cards last year, and they were beautiful.

One way they raise funds is by collecting used ink cartridges, for which they receive money. I know I have a bunch I always forget to bring back to Staples for the cash, and now I'll send them to Maria's Children instead. I thought some of you might want to do the same. It's a great and easy way to support this program - you don't even have to pay for the shipping. Here's the blurb verbatim from their newsletter.

'Gradually our income increases from the recycling project, but we could do so much more. I've estimated if each of you who receive this letter sent in just one box of used cartridges per year, we would realize about $30,000. Here's how to help. Save all your personal empty cartridges, and canvas your friends and family and even your place of business frequently for their empties, as well. Also for all used cell phones, and other small hi-tech stuff. Place a collection box at your church or service club, etc. When you have at least a small box full, call the toll-free number 1-888-628-3639 to request a free UPS mailing label. When you receive the label, put in on the box, put our return address in the space provided (Maria's Children International, 4321 West Highway 13, Savage, MN 55378), and take to your local UPS outlet or have UPS pick it up. There's no charge of any kind. About 3 weeks after you send the box, we get a check. If you'd like acknowledgement from us for your help, send us a copy of the mailing label before you send the box (or fax it to 952-736-8126). I cannot stress enough how much this can mean to us! Get passionate with this, and make a huge difference for the forgotten kids of the world!' "

http://www.mariaschildren.org/

Harasho

There is nothing like a few days in Moscow to make you thankful.

Thanks to a quick lesson from Dawn (more on her visit soon...) I was able to read my train ticket and got myself safely to Moscow. The journey was long, but the car was posh. The in-transit movies ensured a quiet ride. There was plenty of legroom and one of the videos was a Russian version of Winnie-the-Pooh. Sort of. And, then, eight hours later, I arrived.

While there is an energy and an efficiency (don't laugh--only imagine...) in Moscow that St. P's lacks, I was glad to come home. It was HOT in Moscow. It's not my city. The metro is rude.

Instead of our charming tokens and turnstiles, Moscow has scan-cards and gates that slam shut if entered wrongly. When I arrived in Moscow at 10:30 p.m. I was surprised to find it was already getting dark. I was in a hurry to get to the flat I was staying in before it was completely dark and went through the gate too quickly. I backed out and tried again. Same result. And same result again. I was about to just leave and try another gate when the young (mid 20's) man behind me said calmly, "Devochka, devochka." with the inflections Southerners use when calming a child by saying, "Honey. Sweetheart." It just means, "Girl" but I found it very reassuring. AND I made it through the gate.

I made my way to the flat and the next morning went to the Embassy where...

I filed my I600-A and got finger printed!!

(The I600-A is a visa form so that my new daughter can come to the US. The fingerprinting is just one more way to prove I'm a safe and capable parent.)

It was so nice to be at the Embassy and talk to the DHS rep who told me her job and DHS policy was to "facilitate and expedite" adoptions. She was a great help.

It was also nice to be around that American can-do attitude. When I went to pay for my I600-A, the credit card machine was broken. My heart sunk. I thought I'd made the trip to Moscow for nothing. My mind was racing to find a way to get the money for the processing fee in dollars in cash and get back before the Embassy closed.

Then, the above-mentioned rep casually said, "Why don't you just pay for it in St. Pete and send me the receipt? You can just fax it to me." I was amazed!! I've been told so many times lately that things must be done THIS way and then met with a shrug when it proved impossible. Her efforts are appreciated!!

But, even with all this positivity, I was ready to come back to St. P. On the way back on the train I was surrounded by an Italian tour group. It made for a lively traincar! When I finished reading my book, there was still an hour left before we arrived in St. P. I started playing with the four-year-old in front of me. Anastacia was happy enough to play knock-the-giraffe-off-the-seatback for a while without conversing. Then, she started to tell me all sorts of things. While my Russian is improving, I don't speak pre-schooler yet. He grandmother and I tried to explain that I didn't understand, that I spoke another language. (Grandmother at first told her I was Italian and was surprised to find I was American.) This concept of another language was, well, foreign to her.

Anastacia persisted. I found myself murmuring things in English, just as you do with any toddler-babble, that I knew perfectly well how to say in Russian. So, I just switched languages. When she'd pause in her monologue and it was my turn to speak, I'd just say, "PRAHvela?" (Really?) and when she'd reassure me, "Da." I'd reply, " HArasho." (Good.) Then she'd be off again. I'd vary this with other answers (No, really?) and some simple questions when I'd catch a word I knew. When I heard her say "sleep" I asked if she was tired. She assured me she was. Her grandmother was so tickled!! She asked the girl, "Does she understand you?" My little friend replied, "KaNECHna!" (Of course!)

Yesterday was harasho. Pravela? Kanechna!

Fraud!

I have been perpetrating, albeit unknowingly, a fraud.

St. Petersburg does *not* ever have 24 hours of daylight. Never. Even on our longest days last week, the sun set around 11:30 p.m. and rose around 4:30 a.m. Granted, that's a long day. And, when you figure in the added twilight and dawn times that extend the light, it is a long day. It's a very long day. It's a day that's so long that it's difficult to sleep and we're all walking around a little sleep deprived.

But we don't have 24 hours of daylight. Sorry for misleading you. (I feel as cheated as you do, believe me...)

cartography

In an attempt to see if anyone is really reading this, I've added a cluster map. Come back again and see if you're on the map!

Kate

magic

This is primarily for my theatre-friends, but that rest of you are welcome to eavesdrop.

Here in St. Petersburg, I have *one* theatre-friend. My other theatre-friends will understand, perhaps, how important it is to have at least one kindred artistic spirit nearby. Alosha and I talk theatre, swap cd's, sing in the middle of sentences, praise Sondheim, argue for and against various performances and agonize over our general lack of theatre in St. P. Yes, we have ballet, opera, and symphonies, but there is a distinct lack of musical theatre.

There is something in me that CRAVES theatre--musical theatre, Shakespeare, comedies, dramas... I need it. I'm not fully me without it. Alosha is a great playmate who will brave the musical theatre scene in Russia with me. We went to see Cabaret earlier this year. It was a pretty dismal performance, but just being in a THEATRE was great. Besides--we had a great time tearing the show apart. (We did like one of the actors--we're not heartless.)

Alosha is going back to Minsk tomorrow. [Goodbye kindred theatre friend! I'll be on my own again. (Yes, I did sing "On My Own" as I typed that.)] We went to see one last show tonight. It was called "Julia" but was only loosely based on the movie by the same name. While not everyone in the show was good, I had a ball! (Come on theatre friends--you know critiquing the bad parts of a show can be almost as fun as being transported by the good ones. It is fun talk over why it's bad and how you'd do it differently. This wasn't a bad show...it just had some weak spots. Perfect.) I understood the plot --and even explained it to Alosha in parts. (No, I'm not speaking Russian yet. I just speak musical theatre.) One of the actresses in particular, Valentina Panena, was SO good! Her comic timing was amazing. I understood everything she did, laughed at her jokes, and thoroughly enjoyed myself. Alosha has seen her before and said she was just as good then.

After the show, I decided we should go and meet her. I thought I was a perfect intro--he could tell her that his American friend who speaks no Russian understood everything she did and thought she was excellent. Alosha took a little convincing regarding the brilliance of my plan. Approaching an actor, apparently, is just not done. I told him I would be thrilled if someone stopped me after a show and told me that they adored my performance even thought they only spoke Russian. Finally overcoming his reticence, he asked a soundman if we could meet her--using the Amerikanski padrooga angle. The soundman immediately took us backstage--and left us in the middle of a dressing area! Other actors were there removing clothes & make-up...but since they weren't all good and we didn't want to speak to THEM, we felt a little weird. After waiting a few minutes, we decided to wait outside the dressing room.

Our hopes were dashed when a grumpy usher (woman aged 50ish) was there, too. She was not pleased to see us exiting the dressing room. Alosha quickly charmed her (he's good at that) and conveyed our story. She said Valentina wouldn't come out that way (and she obviously wasn't letting us back in) but she'd tell her our story. Alosha was resigned. I, however, felt responsible for us leaving the dressing area and having him miss the chance to talk to her. So, in true kateish fashion, I decided we could find another way.

Alosha refused to ask the cashier or anyone where the stage door was, so I started exploring. He was back to being unconvinced regarding plan brilliance, so I told him he could go home but I was going to find the door. He asked what I'd tell her (strong implication that my lack of Russian would make this impossible). I said I'd tell her "Excellent, excellent. Thank you." He tagged along.

Soon we found the stage door--with a bench outside it! It can't be THAT "not done" if there's a bench.

Valentina came out and Alosha jumped up and greeted her. She was SO nice!! And, I did tell her, "Ehtleechna, Ehtleechna. Spacebo bolshoi." as planned. She gave me her phone number and invited me to see other shows she is in. She's working with three different theatre companies right now. She told Alosha that no one had been able to do that in Soviet times. An actor had to be attached to a theatre company. (This is still the case in Belarus, says Alosha.) Now, she can do whatever project moves her. She said we can get together and she will speak English and I will speak Russian and we will learn together.

I believe in magic. There's a special light between day and twilight that's pink and still and full of magic. There is an energy when a play comes together perfectly and is shared between actors and with the audience that is palpable. There's a simple joy that comes from creating. There's a peace that settles on my classroom when everyone is busy and happy. These are all magic to me; as magical as fairy rings and wishes on stars.

Tonight was filled with magic.

I just felt full of ME as I walked home over the bridge. I was lighter, sparklier, skippier and more...awake, more content, more me. That is magical, too.

pandas

A panda walks into a cafe. After perusing the menu, he orders and eats his meal. When he has finished eating, he pulls out a gun, fires two shots into the air, and heads for the exit.

"Why?" asks the confused waiter. The panda produces a poorly punctuated wildlife manual and tosses it over his shoulder. "I'm a panda," he says. "Look it up."

The waitier turns to the relevant entry and, sure enough, finds an explanation:

"Panda. Large black-and-while mammal native to China who eats, shoots and leaves."

Moral: Punctuation really does matter even if it is only occasionally a matter of life and death.

(This is from the book Eats, Shoots and Leaves--a brilliant book that I could have written and thoroughly enjoyed. It's nice to know others share my passion for correct punctuation. It gives me hope. Writing is a form of communication. Punctuation enables the reader to understand the writer. Or, when incorrectly used, punctuation casues the reader's blood pressure to sky rocket as she mutters about the idiocy of some people...Read the book and think of me. Of course, it may give you insights you never wanted into the kateish mind...)

nearly 3rd graders

Well here they are--the nearly-third-graders at AASSP. I thought, since you've been hearing about them all this year, you might like one last picture. This is my favourite spring picture. I think it shows what a kind, happy class we are.

we interrupt this blog...

Much as I'd love to be writing a nice long blog for you, that will have to wait. We're in our last few weeks of school and I've been spending MUCH too long on the computer in the last week--creating yearbook pages and an "Important Book" keepsake for each second grader. And, since neither my 1920's desk at home nor my computer tables at school are ergonomically designed, I've been having some problems. I think the best way to heal is just to stay off the computer. That is a hard task--especially since my mobile phone is broken and my sattelite is out! Time to break out the books and dvd's...or for the rain to stop so I can get out...

More soon!

Why Russia?

Early classification lessons teach children to group things broadly and then more specifically. In the game twenty questions it's sensible to start by determining animal, vegetable or mineral. Charades begins with a genre.

In the world of adoption, the first distinction made is between domestic and international adoption. People choose to adopt internationally for a variety of reasons. Some feel drawn to a particular culture. Some have been given a heart for the children of their ancestors. Some think it will be an easier journey (I'm certain those people are disabused of that notion quickly!). So, for me, why international adoption? Why Russia?

For me, there was never a question. I have never considered domestic adoption. While I know that it is a less expensive, potentially easier path, it is not where my heart has been led. I have been interested in Russian history since I discovered the biography of Anna Anderson in seventh grade. That started a period of reading about Russian history, culture, and current events. There was a mystery and a romance to Russia that appealed to my junior high self. I quickly took the Romanovs to heart. I admired the tenacity of the people. I longed to visit Soviet Russia and see what exactly was going on there.

About that same time, I decided to adopt. (Why I decided that at the age of 13 is a story for another time.) So perhaps it is natural that the two merged--my interest in Russia and my desire to adopt.

One added bonus in this process is the virtual friends I've made from around the world. There truly is an international adoption community. I am grateful for their wisdom and support. I welcome the experiences shared by those who walked a similar path before me. And, it's great to actually have comments on the blog!! So, my virtual friends, welcome!! Please come back again and again. Thank you all--old friends and new, virtual friends and family-- for joining me on this journey.

Катя

Cinderella to Princess Leia

I have signed with an agency! I sent off stacks of notarized documents (okay, that's expensive over here--$30 each!!) and a healthy check to my new agency. They are a small, Christian adoption agency with much experience in Russia and Eastern Europe. I'm excited to have taken this new step!

After school is out, I'll head to Moscow to file an application for a visa for my new little one. While this can be done via post in the US, I have to do it in person. It will take two days--one to file and one to be fingerprinted.

Then, I fill out more paperwork and wait. While my agency doesn't think it will take that long, I'm still hoping for everything to be finalized in March 2007. That would allow my maternity leave to run into summer vacation. We all know how likely it is that my plans will pan out...so I'm flexible on that date. Flexible, but still HOPEful.

And, as far as signs go...all my students refer to the REAL "Star Wars" as "New Hope". (The middle-schoolers actually try to out-trivia me. Please.) I've always said "Star Wars" was the ultimate fairy tale. Here's to happy endings.

weather pixie?

So what do we think of the weather pixie? While I do like the fact that she shows you the weather here, and even records sunrise and sunset, her cartoon-y style fits neither me nor the look of this blog. Any alternatives to suggest?

my doodlebugs

Here they are! I think it's okay to post first names: l-r, top-bottom we have Annastasia, Neta, Jessica, Mellica, Maksut, Sharunas, Shota, Vani (pink sweater), Miriam, Jin Sun, Katie Rose, Katya, Brandon and Carl.

They are a delight to teach. I will MISS them next year when they go to third grade.

Victory!

Tomorrow is Victory Day. All across Europe people will celebrate VE Day--Victory in Europe--and the end of WWII. Here in St. P we celebrate more. We celebrate the end of The Great Patriotic War (also known as WWII).

Everyone is in a festive mood. The streets have been full of fireworks, races and hundreds, possibly thousands, of men and boys in uniform. Tomorrow they will march down Nevsky Prospekt to Palace Square. I saw them two weeks ago practicing for tomorrow. The different groups of sailors and soldiers all converged on the square in front of the Hermitage. Then, a marching band took center stage--right under the angel.

If you haven't seen it, there is a massive statue of an angel right in front of the tsars' winter palace. She stands with arms raised and head bowed. As long as she stands, the people believe, St. Petersburg will be safe.

There is an excellent series of children's books about Russian history. These three fictionalized accounts take readers from the revolution, in "The Angel on the Square", across the Siberian wilderness and finally through the siege of Leningrad. It is the end of that siege that we celebrate tomorrow.

The tenacity of the people who lived in my new city amazes me! They were blockaded for five and a half months. Electricity was cut off and public transportation stopped. They were freezing and starving. They had eaten everything--grass, the bark from the trees in the summer garden... Finally, finally the water in Lake Lagoda froze and they were able to drive across it on "The Road of Life" to secure supplies.

Despite losing between a million lives, one-third of the pre-war population, the citizens of Leningrad fought bravely in fierce hand-to-hand combat and defeated the Germans. That defeat marked the beginning of the end of Nazi Germany. That defeat told the world that Hitler could be stopped; that evil would not triumph.

It's interesting to me that this part of the war is not often covered in our history texts. It's an amazing story! And yet in school all I remember learning about the Russian involvement in WWII is that they were part of the Allied Powers fighting the Germans. I know that the defeat in Russia (usually accredited primarily to Russian winters and the mud that follows in the spring). Yet, this is an amazing story of a brave, tenacious people! It is a triumphant, victorious story. I think it should be celebrated. Tomorrow, I will join the citizens of Russia in gratefully thanking the survivors of that war and celebrating their victory.

I hope you find a way to celebrate your own small victories tomorrow. Be triumphant!

Cheerios

If you've got a minute, go to this site and then click on "adoption" for a FAB advert. Are they showing this in the US?

http://www.cheerios.com/ourCereals/ourcereals_home.aspx

More soon...no news now but surely something newsworthy will happen soon. Here's a favourite quote of mine to tide you over until then:

"I am still determined to be cheerful and happy, in whatever situation I may be; for I have learned from experience that the greater part of our happiness or misery depends upon our dispositions, and not upon our circumstances." Martha Washington (1732 - 1802)

Катя

quick notes

Cultural note: On our Easter Sunday, I noticed loads of people walking around with pussy willows. I asked a Russian friend whom I had dinner with what the significance was. She said that in Russia pussy willows are used instead of palms for Palm Sunday. The people bring them to church and they are "baptized". Then are then used throughout the service and taken home afterwards. I'm looking forward to participating in this tradition next year!

Life note: I've been informed that I'm being evicted from my palace. Sigh. I've worked hard to make 11 Millyonaya home this year and have succeeded rather well. Granted, the flat IS too big for me. So, the school is moving me...to *9* Millyonaya! I haven't seen the flat yet, but it's right next door. The outside certainly isn't as nice, but in St. P you can't judge a building by it's exterior. (Well, sometimes you can, but it's best not to.) My new flat will have two bedroom, two bathroom a very small kitchen and a round living room! I'll tell you all about it once I see it...

Phyical note: It's light so much longer!! Last night I walked home from a friend's flat at 9 p.m. and it was just twilight. The Neva has melted. It's been sort of wiggly and causing lots of sunlit sparkles. It looks like the river is as thrilled to be shaking off winter as the rest of us. Since we always had snow from Halloween to Easter growing up in Colorado, it feels like it's time for spring now that Easter has passed. Thankfully, the Russian weather is indulging me!

Language note: My Russian teacher says I have a very good ear! Now that "Wizard" is over, I'm back at my lessons twice a week. I'm looking forward to summer and greater opportunities to make a fool of myself as I attempt this difficult language. (Hopefully, I won't have to fall back on my usual means of communication--I speak pantomime excellently.)

Adoption note: I've completed all my education courses and have filled out most of my paperwork. I'm now waiting for the state of Virginia to send me some certified birth certificates and the state of Ohio to send my child abuse clearance. I also have to go to the consulate (perhaps tomorrow) to have my fingerprints taken and then submitted to the FBI. I still haven't signed with an agency, but am close.

Since this adoption will likely take about a year, I can't help wondering if my daughter is just coming into the children's home now. (She would have to be available to Russian families for nine months before being available for international adoption. This would be the latest she could realistically be entering a "Dvetsky Dom" or children's home.) She may have been there since birth, or she may just now be entering a strange new world. When I eat, I pray that she is fed. When I get dressed, I pray that she is warm and clothed. When I go to sleep, I pray that she is safe and loved and that she knows I'm coming. She is very much in my heart already. Please join me in praying both for a smooth adoption and attachment process and for her while we wait.

Much love,
Kate

inspired by devon (parenthetically laden)

Yesterday, I had my homestudy (explained in the next four paragraphs, I promise). It was changed from Tuesday to Monday at the last minute. Since we're on spring break (God is good to me) it was easy to accommodate the change in schedule. I didn't sleep the night before. I got up early to make sure everything was ready--and to bake muffins we didn't eat and buy milk they didn't take in their tea.

A social worker (from the US) and the head of her Russia program came to my flat. They spent four hours talking to me. I had filled out checklists (What concerns do you have about adopting?) and written an autobiography (limited to 5 pages--sheesh) so that they'd know what to ask me about. Basically, these are the people who decide if I am fit to adopt. They studied my "home" (read: ME) and also my flat. (I do have quite a posh pad here in St. P...but may be moving soon.)

They basically said I was Pollyanna (anyone surprised?). (Actually, they said Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm, but I think they meant Pollyanna. I am very good at the glad game.) They think fact that I moved to Russia (to learn about the Russian culture and language) when I knew I wanted to adopt from Russia will be looked upon favorably by the minister of education for my region (they approve the referrals--see below) and the judge who rules on my adoption.

BUT there are many more hoops to jump through before I'm approved. There are forms to fill out, references to acquire, financial statements to compile, documents to gather, fingerprints to run through the FBI computer...All this from St. Petersburg.

We talked about the age/gender/number of children I want to adopt. I'm thinking a girl aged 2-5 or sisters aged 2-6. The lack of space in Russian children's homes (dvetsky dom) means that siblings are often separated. If they are young enough, they may not even remember each other. But, it's also possible that siblings are either together in a dvetsky dom or were together doma (at home) and know each other. I think what I'll do is say I'm open to either 1 or 2 and see who is referred to me.

Referral--After my homestudy is completed, and after I've chosen an agency (goal for the week), I will wait for a referral. My agency will receive basic information about children available for international adoption from the minister of education in the region of Russia to which I'm assigned. (Russian children must be available to Russian families for 9 months before they are available for international adoption.) I will be asked whether or not I want to travel to meet the referral. Then, after meeting the child and having her medical records reviewed (or even having a physical done at the local English-speaking clinic) I can make a decision. At that point, if all goes well, I sign an intention to adopt and wait for a court date.

Someone who adopted from China was very judgmental about the Russian process, saying s/he would never adopt from Russia because you "pick" your child. This is just not the case. I am not out shopping for a child with a list--blue eyes, chestnut hair, exceptional artistic ability, IQ > 110... I know that as a single mother I am not the best person to adopt a child with special needs. And I appreciate the fact that I will know that my child is as healthy as possible. I guess I see the referral process as the equivalent of not smoking or drinking (yeah--not so tough for me) or consuming too much caffeine (OUCH!) during a pregnancy.

I was hoping to adopt NEXT May. From what I'd read, Russian adoptions were taking 10-13 months. Now it seems that timeline might even be speeded up...let's hope my fundraising can keep pace!

Let me know what you want to know. I don't want to bore you all. But, this is certainly filling my head and my heart these days!!

Paka!
Katya

Agency decision!

To quote Cinderella in Stephen Sondheim's "Into the Woods": I know what my decision is, it is not to decide.

Actually, I decided to do things backwards. I'm having my homestudy done and submitting my INS forms while I wait to hear about re-accreds in May. And guess what--my homestudy is THIS WEEK!!! It will either be on Monday or Tuesday. I'm so glad we're on spring break right now. And, the homestudy will be completed by the owner of one of the agencies I'm considering. Another family in St. P (I teach their daughter) is adopting with this agency. It's nice to have someone close at hand who is one step ahead of me in this process.

I have to get all my pre-hs paperwork done this weekend. I'm off now to write the life of Kate.

Thanks for riding the roller coaster with me! I think the safety bar just went down...

ps Although it's 1 April, this blog is absolutely true.

Slutskaya's okay

(**Note: The lack of details in the story at the beginning of this blog should only strengthen the fact that this intuitive reaction to an actor is an everyday occurrence and not, therefore, worthy of note. It should in no way reflect poorly on the blogger's writing ability.)

One time, my friend Lara and I were watching something with Maura Tierney in it. (It was before she was on ER so maybe it was News Radio). I must've said something about how she and I would be good friends because a few weeks later, Lara came and told me that she'd seen an interview with Maura, and we had very similar tastes and hobbies--right down to a love of riding the NY subway! She asked how I knew that, and I told her I just did. It's easy for me to watch an actor and know if we're sympatico. Sandra Bullock--good friend. Julia Roberts--no way. David Duchovny--friend. Bonnie Hunt--good friend and mentor. Lane Davies and Nancy Lee Grahn--very good friends. Courtney Cox--not my friend, but no animosity. Paul Reiser--good friend. Tom Hanks--great friend. And so it goes.

I'm not as good with athletes. Maybe it's because an actor shows a bit of himself or herself every time he tackles a new role. An athlete doesn't get that opportunity. But one athlete I am friends with is Irina Slutskaya. She's someone I'd like to go out and have a cup of coffee (only in the generic sense--I still don't drink coffee) with. So, I was incredibly disappointed with her bronze medal in this Olympics. She's worked so hard for so long! (And, I didn't like the Japanese skater at all--too mechanical, no passion) While it was great for the US to win the last two golds, they were won by "temporary" skaters. Have you seen Tara or Sarah since? But, Irina, like Michelle Kwan, is a SKATER. And, I admit, the stories about how the former-soviet athletes are treated when they don't win had me worried. I thought she might be really depressed after the bronze.

Just in case you were worried, too, I wanted to let you know that Ira's fine. I saw her and many other Olympic skaters at an exhibition a little while ago. She was warmly greeted by the crowd. She skated well and had a big grin on her face the whole time. She giggled and talked during the curtain call. She looked happy.

I hope you're feeling as happy the next time your expected gold turns to bronze!

Women's Day, 2006

I tend to go through life looking for connections. And, I find them...everywhere! (I can hear my close friends groaning and laughing as I type...) These might be construed as signs. I think they're gentle reminders that God is in charge of EVERYTHING and that he has a sense of humour.

Today being Women's Day (a lovely holiday that has filled my arms with gifts, roses & chocolates and my ears with wishes of "continued beauty" "a long life filled with happiness and flowers blooming" and similar loveliness) seems the right time to make a momentous announcement.

I am getting ready to adopt.

I have prayed about this and thought about this and worked toward this for years. I am debt-free. My list of selfish things I wanted to do before I had a family is basically exhausted. And, I'm 36, for goodness sake!

So many things are buzzing around in my head and my heart! But, right now I need to get focused and get busy. Living in St. Petersburg makes adopting from Russia very tricky. The number of ex-pat adoptions worldwide is relatively low. I'm busy looking for a reputable agency who can best serve me. And, I need to find ways of paying for this adoption...But I thought it was time to let everyone know what it is I'm working and praying towards.

It may be that this in not the path God has set out for me. I believe it is. However, if we've learned ANYthing from the life of Kate thus far (and I've really tried to learn from my life thus far...), it is that our plans are not always God's plans. That doesn't stop me from planning and hoping and working. It just reminds me that what I think the end result will be is not always what the end result IS.

For now, I'm trusting in the promise Jesus made to us--and I'm making it myself:
"I will not leave you as orphans. I will come to you." John 14:18

Happy Women's Day.
Katya

Shitsleeva Maslenitsa!

We had a BALL at the Russian village today! Our entire school went to celebrate Maslenitsa. The village is a living history museum (basically). We participated in folk songs and dances, painted whistles and played traditional games. Then we had a lovely meal together--topped off with blinis!

Here is what the guide told us about the holiday:

This is a week-long celebration to welcome spring that has been celebrated for hundreds of years.

On Monday: Make two small dolls for your home. One, made of straw and dressed in old, ugly clothes symbolizes winter. The other, of cloth or wood and dressed in fresh, new clothes symbolizes spring. Put these dolls in the window to let friends and neighbors know they are welcome to come in.

A large straw doll was made for the entire village as well.

On Tuesday: Whistles are given! Boys get horse whistles (strength) and girls get bird whistles (beauty, ability to rise above and fly). Cat whistles are the sign of a warm and loving family/home and can be given to either sex. The whistles are blown to call the birds back and to cast out sickness.

Wednesday is pancake day! Pancakes are warm and round and yellow like the sun.

On Thursday there is dancing and singing. (We sang songs about how people walked--ladies, grandmas, soldiers...)

Then, on Sunday the straw maslenistas are burned. This is also the day of atonement. You must ask forgiveness for anyone you've hurt or wronged in the last year and make ammends.

On this day, people who like winter sing sad songs.

Like most holidays in Russia, there is a mix of pagan, Christian, and Jewish elements. It's easy to see the overlap in these traditions--Lent, Yom Kippur...I think it's perfectly fine to celebrate the fact that God has granted us another spring!

Kate