just kate plus eight (long)

Do you remember the girls in 3.10? I met them last summer and caught their joy in a donated doll bed. I brought them a doll and Christmas treats as a part of Rachael's Simple Wishes project. I returned with dolls for everyone and a promise to "sponsor" them this year as my gift.

This week, I set out to spend my first birthday with them. The two youngest girls, V and P, have birthdays within a week and a half of each other. I had m&m cookies that were baked that morning gift bags filled with art supplies and a new outfit for the birthday girls (yes, they're in Hannas now...) and a two bead kits for all of us to enjoy.

I was really looking forward to this visit and I was not disappointed. I was greeted with cheerful cries of "Ket, Ket!" that claimed me as theirs. The rest of the orphanage life went on as usual, but for a little while I belonged to them. It was just me and the eight girls.

We had tea (and cookies). They sang and chatted. The girls were quiet about their gifts, but I hope they liked them. And then everyone just settled in to everyday-ness. Some of us (K, Ka, L and I) made bracelets. P settled in with a book. N and N and V and Ks turned on the television and flopped down on the floor beside us to unwind from the week. Clean laundry was brought in by a cheerful older brother and dumped on top of P--eliciting delighted shouts. Girls disappeared briefly to wash hands and collect laundry. (This, it seems, happens once a month. They had a LOT of laundry to put away! Each girl put her own clothes away in the cupboards that lined the room.)

Personalities today were so different. N, who I thought was shy, is a little monkey! She laughed and joked and played with V. Her older sister, K, keeps a close eye on her. L keeps a close eye on her sister, too. They are very tender with their sisters, looking out for them but not mothering them. It was really lovely to see. L, who was excited and boisterous last time was very considerate. She wanted to make sure I understood, that I had sugar for my tea, that I felt at home. Her sister, P, was just as gentle and friendly as last time. She told me, quite seriously, that I should be wearing my cross inside my shirt and not on the outside. They all heartily agreed. She told me her sweater was beautiful and thanked me for her gifts. And, Ka, who seemed much older than the others last time was happy and pleasant and just part of the group. I think some of this is that they are more familiar with me and less guarded. Some of that may just be because promises made have been promises kept. And, having the entire group together again.

When I was talking about the orphanage system here, and the fact that parents could send their children to an orphanage without relinquishing their rights, an ex-pat friend cast a new light on the situation. She compared it to boarding schools in the UK and the US. My sw has said that the girls there are happy and well-cared for by the orphanage staff. As hard as I find that to believe, it is what I saw. I longed desperately to be sent to boarding school from the time I was very small. I think imagined it to be a sort of camp-like environment where you lived with and went to school with your friends. (And you wore uniforms; that was important.) My afternoon on Friday felt just like that...minus the uniforms. While I have heard horrible stories about the internats here in Russia, this orphanage feels different. Not all the places I've visited have this environment. Some of them feel steeped in apathy and bordering on despair. I'm just so very thankful for the joy that I find woven between and around and among the girls in room 3.10.

I wish, truly wish, that I could just move in with them. I know they have a caretaker who genuinely cares for them. She is proud of them and affectionate. I would love to have her job. They are lovely girls and I so enjoy my time with them. Just Kate Plus Eight--doesn't it sound like there's potential for a reality tv show there?

on the radio

There's a song on the radio right now (in English) that says:

Rah, rah, Rasputin
Lover of the Russian queen
(Insert line of Raputin's life story here)

Rah, rah Rasputin
Russia's greatest love machine
(Insert rhyming line of Rasputin's life story here)

It cracks me up.

The other day I heard a political announcement. (It's amazing to me how few billboards, psa's etc. are around with the election looming. Friends here are amazed at my amazement--telling me that the election means nothing, that no one will bother to vote, but that statistics will show 90% of the people supported the next president. We'll see...) What I heard was:

People of St. Petersburg
Idiot....
The President of the Russian Federation

The word for "idiot" ( Идиот) is very similar to one of the words for "coming" (Идёт). I'm guessing that this commercial was to encourage the people of St. Petersburg to go to the polls and vote for the President of the Russian Federation or tell them the next president was coming. I don't think insulting either the voters of St. Petersburg or the next president was the intent.

My Russian friends find this mis-hearing of mine hysterical and say first my impression was more accurate. ;>

spirit lifters

I've not been a good tag-ee of late. I'm hoping this one will count for Annie's and Melissa's... Lea, I haven't forgotten.

Eight Things That Lift My Spirits

1. clean sheets with a high thread count on my bed--especially the periwinkle ones
2. clean anything--legs shaved, teeth brushed, flat tidied...
3. the sound of rain while I'm sleeping
4. sunshine! walking home and having it light is wonderful.
5. a gentle breeze (espically nice if it plays across my pillows while I'm sleeping. how can you not like a force of nature that plays?)
6. thunderstorms. they make me revel in the BIGNESS of God.
7. musical theatre...'most all of it
8. reading through the previous seven it seems that being well-rested deserves mention...

Anyone else thinking happy thoughts?

what makes a genius?

eta: I think this was a test of creative problem solving, not of a blog's reading level. Another blogger (nameless and shamelss) I know kept trying until her blog came up "genius". I just hacked the html. That's what the "Ha." was--"Ha. I beat the button."

Ha.

Movie Reviews

outreach

We have no classes next week. For some of our staff that means a trip to Egypt. For others it's a chance to catch up on classwork. For me it means a chance to deliver items to orphanages. I've called V and she is delighted to have my "big car" at her disposal. I'm not sure where or when, but the promise of these visits lies before me. I am looking forward to it!

It made me think of all your kind offers of help...and your questions about how to do that. I've been mulling it over. Shipping things here is not very practical. Shipping fees are extremely high. Rachael sent over some small gifts for Katya's former groupmates. Thanks to the customs slip I can tell you that $40 worth of small toys cost $65 to ship. It was a lightweight box (I carried it home from school) about the size of...eight board games. And, my eBay experience tells me that clothes are heavier than one would suspect. A single child's dress costs about $10 to ship.

I am happy to shop for you here. If you'd like to paypal a donation, I can shop for either what you'd like or for what V says is needed and deliver it on one of our trips. And, I can mail you receipts for your purchases (or e-mail a scanned one if you'd rather). Or, one of the things I've not been able to find here are inexpensive hair baubles. Four barrettes can cost$12! Those would likely be lightweight... There are many more boys than girls in the orphanages, though. I'm not sure they'd be keen on hair baubles.

That's the best I can come up with right now that involves me personally. There are many organizations who are better able to offer outreach than I am. Star of the Sea is an outreach program for the homeless in St. Petersburg. I have a donation for them in the back of my car right now (clothes, pillows, dishes and food). They describe themselves:

We are a Russian noncommercial charitable organization funded in Moscow 1996. We organize for committed volunteers and professionals, Russian and non-Russian, to work on social and medical development programmes, especially for street children, the elderly and for families in difficult situations. We offer help to those in need regardless of their race, religion and cultural background.

Purpose:
To provide street children with social, psychological and medical care and rehabilitation and place them into a stable and healthy environment that enables them to re-enter, maintain, and progress in a healthy lifestyle.

Tax-deductible donations to Star of the Sea can be arranged through a Chicago office. I urge you to read their website.

Buckner runs another program whom I have seen working in the orphanages around St. Petersburg.

V works for an agency who provide orphanages with needed medicine, sanitary products and just...basic needs. The budget for orphanages in Leningradskaya Oblast this year is 84 roubles ($3.42)/day for teenagers and 80 roubles ($3.25)/day for children. There is no money whatsoever in the budget for medicines--not for the green topical treatment commonly used or for antibiotics or for pain relievers. None. The agency V works for tries to make up the difference. She refers to it various ways. I'll try to get more information for people who would like to donate that way.

An aside for Kimberley: At this point, I only go to the orphanages V works with. She doesn't work in the city of St. Petersburg. If I do visit Emery's baby home, I'll be sure to let you know!

I hope that helps to answer some of your questions. Please, if you do find a way to give, let us know.

you're all wonderful

Hmmm...so that game was either incredibly easy or ridiculously cliquey. (Sorry if it was the latter.)

Or, maybe, as I suspect, you really are all wonderful. It was Ann Marie. ;>

(Thanks for hanging in there...)

guess who's wonderful

I've been concerned about the lack of blog fodder found here of late. Adoption news? Nope. Interesting insights into life in Russia? Nope. Surely, without desperate measure, my readership will drop dramatically. THEN what would I do?

So, a friend of mine suggested this post. It's a new game, invented by her, called, "Guess Who's Wonderful?" Here's how to play. I'll give you 5 clues and you have to guess who the wonderul blogger is. It's against the rules to give clues that are stupid, incredibly obvious or designed to make yourself look cool. Also, no mushy stuff is allowed. Attempting to ingratiate youself with the wonderul surprise person by using this game is also taboo. It would be helpful if the clues were searchable in the person's blog.

1. She does not know how old she is.
2. She has recently been ill.
3. Her dedication to eradicating the improper use of apostrophes rivals mine.
4. The person in question is extremely proud of the city from whcih his/her child is adopted and considers all other cities in Russia inferior.
5. Her child makes "stink-stink".

*bonus* (Just in case the other clues were too obscure. We want you to play!)

6. The person in question is on the phone with me right now laughing at these clues.
7. She was either my SBP or I was hers (I don't know which way that works) in the original Russia SBP organized by Debbie and Suz.

So-- who's wonderful today?

Copyright for this game is pending. Copy it now while it's still legal.

People who guess correctly are wonderful by association.

There. Is that good enough to keep you hanging around until there's actual news?

boring bits in the 90%

Really, it's just more of the same. Nothing earth-shattering.

AND, some of my irl adventure are unpublishable because they're about my pif! I've been working on one of my projects...and it's really going to be sweet...but even those mis-adventures are under wraps until it's in the hands of the recipient.

You just think I have a much more interesting life than I do. ;>

titanic

I liked that musical (no matter what the critics said). I had to change the title because even as I typed this I was singing:

No moon, no wind
Nothing to spy things by

No wave, no swell
No line where sea meets sky

Stillness, darkness
Can't see a thing, says I

No reflection
Not a shadow
Not a glint of light meets the eye

And we go sailing , sailing
Ever westward on the sea, we go...
Sailing, sailing
Ever on go we

Blogs are like icebergs. What you see isn't the whole picture. You may see 10% of what is going on at any given time.

In the jagged underbelly, there are lots of things going on right now. None of them are happening quickly and none of them should be blogged about. Yet. One of these days I'll be able to let you know about that 90% that's unseen for now. Or, I'll at least let you see 15% instead of the usual ten.

Until then, please keep thinking good thoughts and sending up prayers for quick, competent advocates, a smooth, straight path and wisdom for me. A lightning bolt would be appreciated as well...

More soon!

blustery day (edited)

Last Saturday I went shopping. I had four bags of necessary items to carry up to my third floor flat. Pursuing my constant goal to make as few trips as possible, I had the bags doubled up. I've been known to hang bags up my arms, the plastic handles cutting into my wrists, in order to avoid an extra trip. If an extra trip up the stairs is needed, at the very least I'll try to make only one trip from the car to my door.

Usually Saturday is a day on which it's easy to find a parking space. Last Saturday this was not true. The street was blocked off for some reason and parking spaces were scarce. I had to park quite a bit down the block and lug my groceries through the slush and muck. Of course, after trudging through the slush and muck I discovered an empty parking space--right in front of my front door.

On Sunday, I was supposed to meet Tricia and Michael, who were visiting St. P while waiting out their ten days. They missed me, I missed them, and then...

WIND! It was SO windy! It rushed through Palace Square and down my street. The building across the street is still being renovated and was covered in scaffolding. (I'll see if I have an old picture of this...) The scaffolding crashed to the ground, filling the block and damaging cars parked below. The lights on the entire street went out--and still have not be repaired. They're really dark, but here's what it looked like out my window and down on the street:

In this picture, the man is walking right where my car was parked. The scaffolding fell right where the car in FRONT of him is parked. I live (if you can see it...) where the steps are going up after the yellow sign. I was very glad I didn't move to the closer parking space!



eta: I did meet up with Rita's mommy and daddy yesterday and had a great dinner--conversation was better than the food. Tricia was a good blogger and brought her camera. Kate, did not. Bad blogger, Kate.

Today the scaffolding is going back up! My camera is at school. I'll post pix tomorrow...

And, for UN Mama--I don't live on Vasilevsky, although I'd *love* to live there. I'm just two blocks down from the Hermitage.

fly on the wall

Yesterday or the day before (who knows?) at about 2:15 p.m. with 45 minutes left in school, a normally patient teacher told her second grade class:

That's it. I have no more answers today. No more. You have used them all up. You have asked so many questions that there are no answers left for today. I will not be answering any more questions today.

The class persisted in asking a flurry of questions (that they knew the answers to--"Where should I put this? What should I do when I finish? Do I have to do my math?") as they had all day, all year, really, but found that this afternoon their teacher, truly, had no more answers.

"I don't know. I don't know. I don't know." That was all she said to them.

One boy, seizing the moment, said, "Then we can do whatever we want!"

"Oh, there will still be consequences," their teacher told them. A few students asked what "consequences" meant, but they asked their classmates and not their teacher. Even the esl students were able to figure consequences out from the context.

And do you know what? The second grade settled down to a productive end of the day. Without asking their teacher any further questions.

The end

(Okay, for those of you who worry:

The next day the teacher discussed with the class, again, the difference between asking genuine questions and asking questions that they really didn't need to ask. They discussed thinking before speaking. Again. They talked about "ask three before me". Again. And the teacher reassured them that she was *happy* to answer questions when they were confused or needed help or just had something they wanted to figure out. She *liked* answering those questions. She simply didn't want to have to say one.more.time. that you may do anything quiet after your journal is finished or that reading logs get turned in to the blue tray. After all, they'd been in second grade for over half the year and the answer hadn't changed. They laughed. And a few minutes later somone asked what to do when they finished their journals. And the teacher smiled and replied, as she had for ninety-some days, "What do you think?" and then validated their correct answer.)

I feel like that teacher (wink) when I'm out of the classroom, too.

How much longer?
What's the hold up?
Which agency?
Which region?
Is it important to adopt two right now?
How old is too old?
Is there a "too old'?

Lord, where do you want me to go and how do you want me to get there?
Which road, which bus, which agency, which children have You planned for me?

Guess what. I don't know.

part of the story

In a seminar on third* culture kids *(1. "passport" culture--what is lived at home, 2. culture of the country in which you live 3. ex-pat community) I learned that TCK (I think 3CK is catchier...but they'd already come up with an acronym before I got on board) are quick to make friendships and those friendships start at a deeper level. There just isn't enough time to go through the initial, superficial stages. I think that 3CA (Ha! No known acronym for third culture adults, so I can use what I like!) function the same way. You make good friends quickly here.

I have had to say goodbye to very good friends recently. I've taught their children, spent Christmases with them, and just chatted and relaxed with them. It's hard to lose this "simpatico" anywhere, but is especially difficult to lose as an ex-pat. Truly, these friends are irreplaceable. This is the part of ex-pat life that isn't so much fun. They're back in the US for a bit ("Mom" & kids are already there) before they move on to their next post. On Saturday I went to say goodbye to "Dad" and to collect a very special gift.

I love stories and histories. I'm a social historian. I like to see the everyday items of everyday people. I'd rather have a much-loved version of nearly anything in my home. I like to think of other people using things that I use and filling them up with happy memories. My bed, my desk...these are cherished pieces of furniture. (Well, as "cherished" as furniture can be--they've been saved from sale even when I was raising money for drama school and are now here with me in Russia...but they're still furniture.)

They're not pristine. But, the bed was handmade. It's spoon-carved. Someone planned the daisy on the headboard, perhaps for someone in particular, and smoothed the footboard by hand. The desk is a teacher's desk from the 1920's. Its front is as pretty as its back. Hundreds of children have sat and gazed at this desk. Thousands of papers have been written and marked here. These pieces have history. They're special. And I am happy to feel that I am part of a chain of people who are using them and adding to their stories.


I got to add another special, much-loved piece of furniture to d2b's room. It's the crib this family has used for all of their children...and that "Dad" and his siblings used. Lots of happy babies have slept in this crib. I can imagine the lullabies sung and prayers said over the children who dreamt here. I was so touched to be chosen to be the next home for this crib. It feels a little as if I've been adopted myself!

Thanks, J&J. I really, really appreciate this gift. I appreciate the hope and the faith that accompanies it. I feel very humbled and very grateful to get to add to its story.

Did you notice that I had crib sheets that co-ordinated with d2b's big-girl bed sheets ready and waiting...just in case? Yep. Prepared. And you thought I just had toothpaste.

71.14.18.33

Do you know what those numbers mean? (My former student, Karis, would.) It's not a winning lottery number (at least, not one I know about) or the code the computer needed on Lost. It's how long it took Ellen MacArthur to sail solo around the world*-- 71 days, 14 hours, 18 minutes and 33 seconds. My students (I was in England at the time) were fascinated by her journey. One of our classroom jobs was news reporter. Ellen MacArthur was big news in J4.

*I still think it's a little presumptuous to call this sailing "around the world" when, really, it was just sailing around Antarctica. Yet another thing that wasn't up to me.

I just read the book Race Ag@inst Time. It's a book of Ellen MacArthur's writings during her journey. Frankly, I wouldn't recommend it. (Hence the @.) It's not very well written. (She's a sailor, not a writer.) It was basically 71 days of technical sailing stuff (gybe-ing and knots and changing sails) and, well, her saying, "It's hard." I'm sure it was. I'm sure I couldn't have done it. (Actually, I tend to think I can do anything I want to...but why would I want to do this? Deep water gives me the creeps.) But it didn't make for a very kateish read.

There were, however, a few quotes that resonated. Hmm. That might mean I'm a complainer. Still...

Day 52: ...We've just got to hang in there and keep moving. It's not been much fun recently, and I'm looking forward to getting into something that's actually stable. This has been one of the hardest stages of the record so far. To have had so many hurdles, as we've had over the last few days since Cape Horn, all in a row, has been pretty brutal. I'm just trying to take every day as it comes--it's sometimes not a good idea to think about the big picture. There is no doubt we're slowing, there is no doubt we're losing a lot of time at the moment, but we've just got to get through this and out the other side--there is no point in thinking about anything else right now.

Day 53:..All that effort, all that energy seems wasted...It feels like we'll be trapped here for weeks continually changing direction, continually adjusting to the unpredictable clouds we have. But I'm not going to give up. I've given everything and I feel empty, but I'll find that little bit left in me to get us through the last 5,000 miles.

Day 56:..I keep going because this isn't something that just sprang out of the dark. Building the boat and working on the project has been in my mind for a long time; it's not just something that started the day I left from Falmouth. However hard it gets, that knowledge doesn't let me go. This record attempt, right now, is the object of all our efforts.

Day 60: I need to de-stress and calm down a little, but it is exceptionally difficult to do when you've got the Doldrums in front of you.

Doldrums, ha! To that I sing, "Sail on! When the water gets high, sail on. When the wind starts to die, sail on. It's just a matter of minutes 'till the ship comes to get us and we all get in and sail on." Did you sing along?

There's a lot of gybing and tacking going on right now in my adoption journey. I'm trying to get a forecast on which way the wind's blowing. There are many things beneath the surface. But, we're still sailing.

Ellen MacArthur's solo journey around the world was incredible. I wonder how she'd fare on the journey of international adoption...

Russian proverb:
Pray to God and continue to row towards shore.

I'm doing both.

clean? check.

Two new driving laws came into effect 1 January.

1. Seatbelts must be worn if, indeed, the car is equipped with seat belts. If the car doesn't have seat belts, don't worry about it.
   
2. Your car's licence plate must be clean. Your car can be filthy, a loophole for which I am very grateful, but the plate must be clean.

The first law doesn't change much for me. I do wear my seatbelt when I'm driving. I don't always wear it in others' cars, but that was out of cultural respect. Wearing a seatbelt seems to be an affront to the skills of the driver. Now, however, I am saving the driver money if we're stopped by being securely buckled in...when there are seatbelts.

The second law adds a step to my pre-driving check. Now, I go outside and hope I see my car. (Much less towing in the winter than in the summer, so it's usually where I left it.) I unlock the car with the key. The clicker was one of the suspects of battery drainage. (They disconnected it and removed my alarm...to no effect. The answer actually seems to be to start it daily and let it run for about 20 minutes. It's either that or disconnect the battery and bring it inside every night as many of my neighbors do. That gets messy. I'd have to lean against my car to do it...and that would mean washing my coat. What they've done to this car over the years I have no clue. But, I digress. Shocker.)

Then, I start the car and turn on the heater and rear defrost. If it's icy, I scrape. If it's not, and it hasn't been very often in the last two years, I take a window squeegee and squeegee off the dirt from my windows. Sometimes I only have to do the windows on the street side. I have learned the hard way that it is best *not* to squirt the windows with cleaner first. This just makes mud. I simply squeegee off the layer of dirt that has accumulated overnight. Nice, huh? Imagine what we're breathing...

Before I get in the car, I check my licence plates. If they're not clean (with the red clearly showing to dissuade militsia from stopping me) then I take the spray bottle of windshield wiper fluid and the roll of paper towels from the back seat and clean them off. All trash goes in the big bin and we're ready to go!

And then we begin the adventure that is driving in Russia.

Russia suffers from two misfortunes: bad roads and foolish people.

--Nikolai Gogol

new address

Just so you can update your address books...

Funnily, the Finnish post decided they needed a street address to deliver post to the
Embassy. (Funny that they didn't require it until now...)

Me
AASSP
c/o US Embassy, box L
Itainen Puistotie 14
00140 Helsinki
FINLAND

know your world

How well do you know your world?

This is totally addictive. Addicting. Makes you stay online waaaaaay more than you should.

My kids are going to play it during their next technology lesson.

bolo punching?

Definition that I looked up on the internet so as to have an appropriate title: A bolo punch is a flashy wide sweeping uppercut that is more about showboating than power. The bolo punch might not even be thrown at all but rather used to distract the opponent so you can hit them with your other hand.

Disclaimer: This is the story told to me. I have no idea of its veracity.

V told me a story to explain why orphanage directors preferred to accept gifts of good rahter than donations of cash. It was about one of the baby homes we visited on my whirlwind donation tour. It's about to celebrate its 60th year as a baby home. For 55 years before that it was a dacha for an admiral and his family. It's a beautiful, wooden building. The stairway as you enter is absolutely gorgeous. But, it does have its share of wear, both inside and out. It is not the children's home in the worst condition, but it is sorely in need of repair.

Last year, there was a documentary made about this baby home in anticipation of its six decades. It was shown during a boxing championship in St. Petersburg last year. This was a big event! The orphanage director was delighted to be invited. President P was there, too.

After the match, the boxing gloves were auctioned off and the proceeds were to benefit the baby home. The bidding reached, according to V, 3 million rubles. Everyone was very surprised because the winning bidder was just an ordinary man. People joked that Pres. had actually backed the bidder. The money was deposited into her account.

The orphanage director was thrilled! She talked to all of her friends about that night and her good fortune. She told everyone about the repairs she would make, the renovating she would do. She began making plans. She called to let her supervisors know she would be withdrawing money from her account (It's called "her" account, but in reality she has little access to it and needs approval for withdrawls.) to make repairs. They told her that the money was specifically for repairs to the outside of the building. She readily agreed and asked to make the withdrawl.

She was then told that she was the orphanage director and was therefore in charge of all that occurred inside the orphanage. She had no jurisdiction over the OUTSIDE of the building. She couldn't access any of the money in her account.

V says the director doesn't talk about this anymore. V said that last with a little laugh, as if it was inevitable that this was too good to be true and the director was foolish to think otherwise. I can only imagine the disappointment and frustration the director must feel.

What I do know: There was a fight.

What I found online: The auction is mentioned as being hosted by what seems to be a reputable charitable foundation.

What I don't know: How much was the winning bid? Who bought them? Why? What happened to the money?

What else I know: That orphanage could put that money to good use. Any orphanage could.

plugging on

I went to the consulate today and got fingerprinted for my updated I600A. All sorts of things to be thankful for: I didn't have to pay for it (it's a one-time extension fee waiver), I didn't have to go to Moscow to be fingerprinted, they inter-office mailed it so I didn't have to go and file it in person or FedEx it. That's hundreds of dollars and two days saved!

no elephant sightings

Remember when I thought I was adopting an elephant? We're now at the 22 month mark. No elephants in sight...must be stuck on the bus.

(I did learn that the longest gestation period recorded for an elephant is actually 25.3 months. That gives us about three more months. Of course, I'm all about breaking records.)

did you know...

that Dyed Moros is not the traditional Russian gift-giver on Christmas? I didn't. I thought he was a traditional figure in Russia history that got re-assigned from Christmas to New Year's celebrations by the soviets along with the tree, the food, and other trappings.

Not so! He and his granddaughter/niece/helper-girl Snegoritchka were created by the soviets for New Years. The traditional gift giver was Sankt Nikolas.

Another thing I hadn't thought about was the fact that many Russians now celebrate New Years before Christmas. This is disconcerting to the people I've talked to. There are actually people who are trying to move the celebration of Christmas from January to 25 December. They think if they're celebrating New Year's on a Julian calendar, then Christmas should be celebrated on that same calendar. Makes sense to me, but I hadn't thought of it.

AND, did you know that leap years are "bad" in Russia? For some unknown-to-me reason, that extra day, that ne normalna occurance is baaaad.

pif

Debbie, Chou2, Kristen (of course I remember you!) you're it! Please put your own pif post up on your blogs. I'm already musing about what craftiness I can gift you with. Hmm...

pay it forward

Jenni had a post up on her blog about an exchange of handmade items. Here are the rules:

"I will send a handmade gift (of my choosing) to the first 3 people who leave a comment on my blog requesting to join this PIF exchange, and who make the same pledge on their own blog. I don’t know what that gift will be yet and you may not receive it tomorrow or next week, but you will receive it within 365 days, that is my promise! The only thing you have to do in return is pay it forward."

Having seen Jenni's fantabulous knitted projects I jumped on this bandwagon. Anyone else interested? (No, you don't get a fantablulous Jenni creation. You get something from me. I would like to stress--hence the pink--that I don't know what is will be and that I have a year to accomplish this task.) If you're game, drop me a comment. It'll be fun!

room 3.10 (long)

I had promised the girls in room 3.10 a doll each...после завтра (the day after tomorrow, in this case, Saturday). So, I set out early (well, early for vacation and early for Russia...about 10 a.m.) last Friday to find more dolls--4 baby dolls and 2 girl dolls. I went to Ashan, the French supermarket where I'd had success before. Unfortunately, the shelves were still pretty empty after new years. I did find one doll.

But, (you knew that was too easy, didn't you?) Ashan is a cash-only store. I had little cash with me. I had planned to use the Citibank ATM (no fees) elsewhere in Mega to get some cash. On this day, NONE of the ATM's in the mall were working. None.

So, I checked the two toy stores (Banana Mama and Children's World) that are in Mega, thinking I could find something there. Guess what. Not only were the ATM's off, the card swipers weren't working either. When I asked why, I was told they couldn't explain it to me. When I asked when they would be working--after lunch? this evening? I was told maybe.

I headed back home and stopped at a few toy stores on the way. No success. I decided I might try to find the other Mega and try the Ashan there. (One Mega is in the north of the city and one is in the south. It won't surprise my friends to hear I don't know which is the one in the north and which is the one in the south.) On the way, I changed my plan. I stopped at Karousel (think Wal-mart--cheaper than my Target-substitute of Okey but with lots of stuff). The dolls were okay, but...not as nice as the ones I'd already given.

I remembered that a new "Children" store had opened upstairs. I thought they'd be too expensive, but decided to give it a shot. I found...four of the SAME baby dolls I'd given the other girls all wearing different clothes (perfect!) for not much more than I'd paid at Ashan. And, after sorting through inappropriately-attired girl dolls (what's with that?), found two who were the same size as the baby dolls and had childlike faces and clothes. Score!

On Saturday, I set out on my own for the children's home. I found it with only one wrong turn and two stops for reassurance that I really was on the right road (one via mobile to V and one at the mashrutka depot. That dispatcher-lady did not want to open her little window for me! I just stood and stared until she slid it and "Da?-ed" me. I greeted her very politely and asked for help. I asked where the village was and she then happily told me it was not far--only 15 km.).

When I arrived, I called M and told her I was here. She came out to meet me, told me the dolls were beautiful and thanked me for coming. We went up to room 3.10. I was behind her but could see the girls' faces (especially N's) light up at the mention of my name and dolls. I don't think I'll ever forget it. They hopped up from the table where they were having tea and clustered around. Each got to choose her doll. M had to go, but I was invited to stay and have tea with the girls.

That was the best, the happiest hour and a half I've spent in months. We all sat down around the table. We talked. The girls told me their names and ages. They told me who the sisters were in the room. Slowly and surreptitiously they reached for their dolls and started to undo the packaging. Tea was soon forgotten as they told me about their dolls. They all knew what the dolls' names were. (The youngest had named hers Sasha, but an older girl's scowl forced her to change it. I hope she's still calling her doll Sasha, as she'd originally wanted, and not Sofia.) One of the dolls was sleeping. One was in the stroller. We took pictures of the girls with their dolls. K made a list of all the girls with their dolls' names.

Their caretaker was so pleased to watch them play. She is obviously very fond of them. I told her, "Little girls need dolls." "Yes," she said. "Need."

At their caretakers suggestion they showed me their photo albums and told me about the pictures inside. Most pictures were recent. They showed the children on various trips to St. P and Moscow. They all cuddled close and looked and looked. Ka had two books to show me. She, it seems, is a singer and dancer. (She is the Ka from the last post who didn't get to visit her grandparents this holiday. The youngest girl in the room is her sister.) N gently showed me all her pictures, proud of the French braids she had when the Buckner group visited last summer. I wish I'd stopped right then and braided her hair. I didn't know how long I had and others were waiting to show me their books...but if I could go back I'd tell her it isn't hard and French braid her hair for her. Maybe next time. Her older sister, K, told me the name of every single person in every single picture.

After looking at the photos, they helped me to deliver the ±100 stuffed animals I'd brought. I'd told a friend here that these children had no toys of their own. I'd told her how M had said that they thought it was so important for the children to have something that belonged to them and not to the group. I told her how the used toys our school had donated last year were saved and handed out on special occasions--the last day of school, for example. This friend started washing stuffed animals from her house. (She has four children and had been wanting to donate some of the extras they've accumulated before they ship out.) And she gave me enough for each child to have his own stuffed animal--with some leftover for me to take to other orphanages.

I'd told M (through V on the phone) that my friend hoped that the children could have them right away and that they wouldn't be saved for something special. She agreed. The girls came with me to my car to get them. They were VERY impressed that I had a car. They were more impressed, and quite incredulous, when they found out I came alone; that I drove. One girl kept questioning me about whether I drove, if I had the proper documents and where those documents were.

We handed out the stuffed animals (I'd gotten permission to bring them on my last visit. I've heard from some people that stuffed animals are considered unhygienic and not allowed. M and V were both puzzled by this--even thinking we had a translation problem. The stuffed animals were welcomed.) to all who wanted them. The girls had a great time being able to be the ones doing the giving. One of the girls, L, found a large horse and claimed it for herself. She was delighted with it! We decided her baby could ride on it. One older boy, M, chose a giant moose and proudly danced around with it. He was recently in the paper to say he is available for adoption. V says he is the only child who has ever asked her to bring him books. He has run away from the orphanage, but now is back and is hoping for a family.

Then, it was time to go. The girls walked me down to the door and hugged and kissed me goodbye. K hugged me so long. It was hard to leave. They walked out in their slippers and waved me off.

I've asked V to make arrangements for me to sponsor this group. She says she will. I want to bring them birthday presents this year and visit if I'm allowed. This is a very, very special group of girls.

simple wishes

I haven't felt very bloggy lately. And, I've been busy--on the road travelling to various orphanages to distribute donations. But, now that I've got a free day, I need to tell you about the results of Rachael's Simple Wishes project.

I've been busy shopping ever since sales closed in the shop. Rachael and I had agreed to get some toys for the younger children and something practical for all the children at Lopukhinka. I found out there were about 70 children there. SEVENTY! I shopped around and found four baby dolls (It's incredibly difficult to find baby dolls here that are both sweet-faced and inexpensive. Incredibly.difficult.), two doll strollers, a fake Lego castle and two castle accessory kits, and gloves or hats for everyone. I got an orange, a snickers and some shower gel (in the shape of cats, frogs or ducks) to stuff them. If Santa stuffs stockings and Sankt Nikolas fills shoes, why couldn't I stuff gloves?



So, that's just what I did. (note to Ukrainian adopters: I bought this tablecloth from the street market in Kyiv. I use it every Christmas.) I stuffed the gloves and hats and then tied them with a ribbon. Not only did this allow choice (and I thing giving these children choices is empowering) but it meant I didn't have to wrap 70 gifts. ;> I'd looked for clear, plastic gift bags that I'm often given a gift in, but I didn't find them. So--a ribbon seemed a good solution. I think these were my favorite gloves:


When I was finished, I loaded them all into two IKEA bags (still happy with IKEA) and headed out. This way, the children could choose which they liked best.

We got there after visiting a baby home earlier in the day. A teacher, M, went with us from room to room as we delivered the gifts. The toys were divided between the different groups. The dolls were presented as a matter of course to the youngest member of each group. In two groups, this was not a problem. The groups were mostly boys and the lone girls were happy. But, in my favorite group from last time, the doll being presented to the youngest child resulted in five very glum faces. I asked if we couldn't leave doll number four for the group as well. They agreed--and then did ahti-bahti ( like eeny-meeny-miney-mo) and gave the last doll to one of the girls, K. Four very glum faces were presented to me. I promised, PROMISED to be back with dolls for everyone. They nodded but didn't cheer up very much. I asked the remaining girls if they wanted baby dolls or girl dolls with hair. All asked for baby dolls--and they asked for two girl dolls for missing group members. Those girls were home with family for the holidays. Here they are bent over the bag choosing their gloves:
The last group loved their gifts. They were the youngest in the orphanage. And, when a little boy asked if they could have a hat and gloves, and I saw we had enough for that and said they could, they were so excited. They loved opening them up and comparing the contents. (The pix have identifiable faces in them so I won't post them.)

Everyone seemed pleased. Our teenagers were less enthusiastic and typically teen-aged. But, I saw many oranges quickly peeled and much thought put into some of the glove choices. The teenaged boys enthusiastically claimed a train set for their group. One of the boys had carried the bags around to all the groups just so that he could choose the train for his group. A, the bag-carrier and train-chooser, is a winner of a winter Olympics for held amongst Russian orphanages.

We found out later that Ka, the girl who had received the final doll, had been very upset over the holidays, crying many tears. Her grandmother wanted her to come visit for the holidays, but the director, not knowing the character of the grandparents, had denied the visit. After she got her doll she said that she was glad she had stayed at school because they had done many fun things and she had gotten a present.

I think Rachael's simple wish was granted. Many thanks, Rach, for letting me be a part of this wonderful day.

extending the metaphor

When I last lived in England, I rode the 139 from my lovely little house in Chalk to the next-but-one village of Higham where I taught. (It's pronounced High-um and not Hig-um, btw.) The 139 was not the most reliable of buses. It had recently had its times cut and no one was happy with the change. It did provide an easy chit-chat opportunity. Everyone was dissatisfied with the scheduling and reliability of the new timetable. Apparently the 139 used to be very efficient and dependable. It used to run like clockwork. But that wasn't the case when the new timetable went into effect.

The 139 was scheduled to stop at the end of my street every half hour from 7:18 a.m. to 9:48 p.m. (It also ran hourly in the early mornings at 5:18 a.m. and 6:18 a.m. Can you imagine my joy when I needed to be at school early and had to catch the 6:18 A.M. bus? Not hard to imagine...) The biggest problem with the 139 was reliability. Especially during the morning hours it was common to have a bus running late or even not show up at all. If a driver didn't show up for work, then there was no bus. The problem was, there was no way to know if a bus was on time, late or skipped. So, each morning I'd arrive at the bus stop by 7:10 a.m. And I'd wait.

If my bus was skipped, I could still make it to school on time by catching the 7:48 bus. It was CLOSE, but do-able if everything ran smoothly and to schedule. The problem came when the 7:18 got skipped and the 7:48 was late. What to do, what to do?

At the top of my street and down a block on the main road, there was another bus stop. It was for another bus company. I don't know the number of that route, so you can see it wasn't familiar to be. It was rumored to stop near my school. When I needed to be at school and the 139 was critically late, I'd start wondering about heading up to the other bus stop. It was a dilemma! In true Murphy's fashion, the 139 would surely arrive as soon as I left for the other bus. (And, you can't psych out Murphy's Law and pretend to go. The Law knows. It can't be manipulated like that. You have to commit.) And, I didn't ride that other bus. I didn't know the schedule or where exactly I'd end up.

That's where I am right now in my long adoption process. The bus is incredibly late. I'm wondering if it's time to stop waiting for the 139 and take another bus. Everyone in Russia is on holiday right now. There are some questions that need to be answered here before I head up the street to the other bus stop. I wish there was a point halfway where I could stand and watch both buses and then dash for the one that comes first. However, not only is that not physically possible (bend in the road), but I'm not a runner. I'd miss them both.

And that is something I'm not willing to do.

(p.s. I'm tired of looking at that long timeline over in the sidebar and am thinking about deleting it. At the time, those seemed like milestones. And, I know it does help other people keep track of my convuluted, atypical ride... We'll see.)

genius

I don't do the whole resolution thing. Why January first? What makes that special? Unless you're a thoroughbred--then your birthday is 1 January no matter when you were born--it's just another day.

I know that a lot of bloggerdom is talking about new weight loss strategies starting today. I am *always* struggling with weight. I think I have stumbled upon a plan that will confirm those suspicions of genius harbored on my behalf. Stay with me here--genius is often ridiculed in its early stages.

It has been often noted that pets resemble their owners and vice versa. My cat, Beazy, (after Beatrice in Much Ado) is a big cat. She was a scrawny little kitten who gained weight after she was spayed. Then, when I was living in England and she was in the US she gained even more. When we arrived in Russia, we both needed to shed a few pounds.

I did. She did too--but by getting gravely ill. When she recovered and adoption stress mounted we both put on pounds. My sensible eat-less-move-more plan didn't seem to be working for either one of us. So, rather than go to the move-even-more plan, I've now got my cat on a STRICT diet (Royal Canin light, 1/2 c per day). It's a cat's answer to NurtiSystem--pre-planned and pre-measured. And, I figure if pets DO resemble their owners, my weight loss should follow hers as a matter of course. Genius!

Now, this is not to say that it's an easy program to follow. There is a fine line between a happy cat and one who is hungry and mean. Beazy is a vocal cat and trills her complaints (she doesn't miaow) insistently. This invokes the response, "No, Beaze" from me which, in turn, makes me sing Dona Nobis. She tries to hypnotize me into feeding her more by staring at me intensely and then dashing for the food bowl when I acknowledge her or shift in my chair. She wakes me up at 5:30 every morning wanting to be fed. It's tough.

But, I really think this plan has potential. I'm off to continue watching season 3 of Lost (I don't know if I can manage to watch it stretched out over a season instead of in a marathon sitting.) after I give Beazy her snack ration. We've been on this plan for some time now and are seeing some slow progress. But, we all know that slow, steady weight loss is the best way to ensure that loss is permanent. I would encourage any of you who feel like you've tried everything to lose weight to give this scheme a try. I can use your testimonies in my infomercial when I'm back in the US. ;>

quick quotes

New Year's is a harmless annual institution,
of no particular use to anybody
save as a scapegoat for promiscuous drunks,
and friendly calls,
and humbug resolutions.

~Mark Twain

The only way to spend New Year's Eve
is either quietly with friends or in a brothel.
Otherwise when the evening ends and people pair off,
someone is bound to be left in tears.

~W.H. Auden

New Year's Resolution:
To tolerate fools more gladly
provided this does not encourage them to take up more of my time.

~James Agate

Happy

sharing an oddment

During my recent sick-in-bed-for-nine-days I was looking for some light reading. I decided to read the Harry Potter series in order. That made me think I should do the same with the films. I found out there are five of them. (I thought there were four.) I drove ALL over the city and checked out all sorts of places that sell dvd's.

Prisoner of Azkaban is not available in English. Anywhere. All the others are, but not that one. Strange, huh? It makes me wonder why. In the kateish universe everything has a reason--no matter how convoluted or obscure.

(I got the other four and ordered PoA from am@zon.co.uk. It should be here soon.)

Just found that a little odd and had to share...

ikea is ok-ea

Warning: this post meanders quite a bit

We were laughing as we were driving yesterday about the fact that on many horrible roads in Russia there have been signs put up a warning drivers about disastrously pot-holed roads instead of fixing the road. The warning above functions in the same way. ;>

I admit that I'm not a fan of their furniture or their store layout. Before yesterday I would have considered it a place to buy vanilla candles and temporary solutions. But now I have a soft spot for that retail giant.

The orphanage director from the orphanage I went to yesterday has gotten IKEA to sponsor her facility. They repaired the building (It's a large, U-shaped building. One wing is completely closed. Another had fallen into serious disrepair--broken windows, leaks, etc.). They rebuilt shower rooms. And, they furnished the children's rooms.

We handed out gifts the students at my school collected to some of the school-aged children.



And afterwards, we went upstairs to see one of V's special friends, L. V has known L since she was three. At that age, L took V's hand and led her throughout the orphanage showing her things and asking questions.

L is eleven now. She is warm and sparkly and open. She wanted so badly to talk to me! She exhausted her English (with help from her roommate, O) and considerately slowed down and simplified her Russian for me. Still, I found it difficult to converse. That is FRUSTRATING! I just wanted to chat. Every time I meet one of these amazing children one-on-one I think I need to raise my age range! Remember when I decided seven was still little after meeting Katya? Today eleven feels little, too.

L met us in her study. She and one other girl have a room furnished with two desks (chairs, lamps, etc.) and a wardrobe for their things. They had personal items on their desks and in the wardrobe. This was such a welcome surprise! I hadn't seen any other orphanages with this personal space allocated to children. And, it was quite a difference from the usual all-communal property.

Space might be one of the things this orphanage has going for it. It's a big building! But, I think that the director's vision for what the children need is just as important. Otherwise, this space could be used as offices, storage or simply left unused. The fact that these children are given this space as their own affected me tremendously. This director is leaving the orphanage. Valentina summed it up well when she said she is sad to see such a wonderful woman leaving the children, but glad that she is moving up in the ranks of government. She is going to be a supervisor of many orphanages now (I think). Valentina thinks her talent and intelligence will take her far--and hopes that having such a caring woman in a position of influence will help all of Russia's children.

We also talked quite a bit with L's brother, his friend, and L's roommate O. O was not happy with her Christmas presents. She didn't like the wooden dollhouse furniture that you assemble. She was upset that she didn't have a doll the right size. The dolls she did have she declared either too tall or too fat. She wanted the gifts L had. L offered to share, but O was determined to be unhappy. She didn't want her picture taken. She didn't want us to find her a doll. She just wanted to be sad.

She forgot to be sad when L wanted to talk to me. O is more confident of her English than Lena and liked being able to help her. She didn't want to speak to me herself, but she liked being able to help L say, "I am eleven." I asked where they learned English. We were told (V translated) that their dancing teacher wanted more money so he had begun teaching them English as well. When we left, O was fine. V, who was very concerned, told the deputy director that O was upset with her gifts. The deputy director said that this was usual for O. I'm on a secret mission to find a doll the right size...and something fun for L, who generously offered to share what she'd been given.

V is always an interesting source of opinions on the state of things in Russia. She thinks that Medvedev will be the next president of Russia. The statement that made the biggest impact on her was his claim that in two years there will be no orphanages in Russia. She thinks this is laughable. She is very concerned about a law limiting abortions that goes into effect next year. She foresees a dramatic rise in the number of children in Russian orphanages.

V also has her eye out for d2b. I confided to her that I was concerned that neither my current agency nor the other possible agency has experience and contacts in the region where I'll need to be. She often works there and is going to talk to some directors she knows who have placed children internationally. Maybe we can work this backwards and get d2b home!

1-2-3

1. My agency has accreditation!

2. I am still trying to speak to an alternate agency. I'll call after New Year's and fill you in asap.

3. I got to deliver orphanage presents collected by our school today. Post to follow...

good tidings

Wishing you a merry Christmas
filled with wonder and joy,
peace and love
and sticky, candy cane kisses.

not "when" yet

Lauren did indeed work her string-pulling magic. The new agency has told her that they would be willing to represent me. (WOW!) However, I'm still waiting to have an e-mail answered by the agency. (I picked a great time to be switching--what with the holidays and my current agency's reaccreditation. SARC!) I want to speak to the director directly before making any decisions. If they are willing and able to register me in Leningrad Oblast then we'll switch. (gulp) If they reccommend another region, I'll need to weigh things a bit. It seems like a wasted opportunity to be in Russia, able to visit d2b regularly between "trips", and not take advantage of all the transition-smoothing that would allow. That being said, I am willing to go wherever it is that d2b is waiting. I've really wanted to take the Trans-Siberean Railway to Vladivostock for years now... ;>

I know that I am too much of a people-pleaser. Not only do I want my current agency to like me, I feel like I'M letting THEM down by considering a switch. I believe that they did nothing out of malice. However, their cautiousness and unpleasant demeanor has cost me time, social workers and irreparable damage.

I try not to dwell on what's been invested so far. But, you've been asking, so who am I to disappoint? I quit my perfect job 3 1/2 years ago to start saving and building respectability. I announced my plans and officially "started" about 22 months ago. I've spent $7000 with my current agency. My first hs (which never saw the light of Russia) cost $1800. My second hs, so far, has cost $2200. It will cost another $1000 to complete. So, I guess that's a total of 3 1/2 years and about $12,000 invested so far.

I know there's a reason for all of this. And, I know I probably don't get to know what that reason is. I just get to trust and move forward. I feel called to pursue Russian adoption. So I'll keep pouring out the time and money until God says, "When".

When my good friend, Kerry, was considering how much time had been invested so far, she told me that my daughter was going to be AMAZING to have kept me waiting so long. I can't wait to see that amazingness for myself!

internet is back!

I'm completely snowed under with getting caught up on a month (two weeks SICK and two weeks without internet) of internet-related tasks. I will do it...just be patient with me.

Be back soon. I've missed you guys!

before the bell

We don't actually have a bell. But if I'd put "before the kids come" it would have raised hopes.

No internet at home. Don't know when I'll have it.

SW2 submitted updates with all changes to agency. Agency wrote back an impolite list of further changes.

SW2 has HAD it with agency and will either submit as is or will charge me for an entirely new hs. This is MUCH more expensive than an update...which isn't cheap. She says she's never dealt with such a difficult agency and wishes she had never taken on my update. She says that SW1 has communicated that she feels the same way.

The amazing Lauren (Cupcake's Mommy) is busy behind the scenes trying to work her magic and pull some strings. If that ex-pat string can be pulled, changing agencies, even as I hear that accreditation is expected next week (deja vu), may be the best thousands of dollars I've ever wasted.

Please, keep this situation in your prayers.

bang, bang

• I am feeling better. I'm not well, but I'm on the way. More bedrest for me this weekend!
• Internet is being turned off sometime soon (that's as much as we know) so that we can change providers. No telling when or for how long I'll be internetless. Nobody panic.
  
• HS seems to be ready! SW2 e-mailed asking for info (which I gave 2.5 when she visited...) and then it's FINISHED. Well, it still needs notarizing and apostilling and translating. But, accreditation can come any time now.
• I have an exhausting couple of weeks coming up. Today was conference day. It was nice that I didn't have to plan for a sub. But, now I have to make up those conferences before and after school for the next two weeks. I'm not sure an extended day is a good idea for me right now. And, we have the school winter concert on Wednesday.
  

(Did you know that the title of this post meant you were getting bullets instead of a real post?)

please excuse kate

from life this week. This includes, blogging (both writing and reading), e-mails, telephone calls and anything that takes place out of her bed. Her doctor has Rx'd antibiotics and bedrest (saying, "And I mean in the bed!") for five days to kick a respiratory infection.

No fun. It's my first antibiotics in eight years! But, I can certainly feel the need for both the suprax and the total rest. I'm getting better, but it will be a while before I'm well. No worries, though!

(Oh, and I still haven't had a reply re: my homestudy. Do you all realize this has been going on since JUNE? That's a long time when you look back. When it was happening, it was all little delays of sw vacations and more vacations. But, they sure added up to one l-o-n-g homestudy!)

Be back next week...breathing easier.

nickname?

What's this new blogger thing? Why do I want the option of being me or anonyomous or nicknamed?

I guess I could be Toasty Christmas...

Seriously, though. What gives?

all that jazz

Musical theatre is a decidedly American form of entertainment. Modern musical theatre using not only the spoken word, but also music and dance to tell a story. When the emotion is too big to be contained in words alone, the character sings and dances. Muscial theatre started in the US and no one does it better. The Brits try, and some of their efforts are stellar (Les Miz, Martin Guerre, etc.). Most, imho, however, fall flat; lacking that spark that makes musical theatre magical. I've seen some musical theatre in Russia. Russians just seem to be mystified by this genre. It doesn't quite work here.

Friday night I went to see Чикаго, as it said on my ticket. It was a production of Chicago. This is a show I love. I've seen it on Broadway, on tour and in the cinema. While it was lots of fun to go, this particular production lacked razzle dazzle.


It was the best musical I've seen here. But, it was on par with a good amateur production. The choreography was lackluster. My grades 4-6 dance class do a better job (and their choreography, if I do say so myself is more interesting, more clever and more Fosse-esque) with the opening number than this cast did. The entire production looked like it was trying to be the film. Film and theatre are DIFFERENT. One should not try to be the other. But, in this case, scenes from the film had been added to the play. The costumes were very reminiscent of the film. Velma looked remarkably like Catherine Zeta Jones. She was good. Roxie, bizarrely, looked like Little Orphan Annie--curly orange wig and ill-fitting dress. Although she was a Russian Actor of the People, she was not very good. She was cartoonish and melodramatic. She has little truth to her character instead posing and shouting. Amos was likable. Billy was horrible. And the chorus, well, left a lot to be desired.

I don't like ballet very much. To me, ballet, especially here, is all about physical prowess and lacks passion. The story gets lost in technicality. The dancer focuses on precisely positioning his or her body in demanding positions. And, to me, this is boring. These dancers had certainly been trained in the Russian ballet. They were flexible and able to kick...but they didn't use dance to tell the story. Bob Fosse, I'm certain, would not've been unimpressed.

But, even a poorly executed musical is better than no musical at all!

The most entertaining part came from our interactions with the other theatre goers. We were astonished to find that Kat (the ticket purchaser for this girls' night out) had gotten us seats in the front row of the balcony (my favorite spot) for only $14! The seats were plush, we were in the center of the theatre and life was good.

It was actually too good to be true. It turned out we were actually seated in some makeshift seats behind the seats in the balcony. It looked like an area that normally was used for storage. We couldn't see a thing!

We moved our chairs forward and I turned mine around backwards and was kneeling on it. The usher, who looked very stern, came and told me that after the lights went down we could go and sit in empty seats.

The lights went down and we leapt. Unfortunately, only Liv and I got to move down. (Though, as it turns out, Kat ended up with a more comfortable seat with less irritating neighbors.) The woman sitting next to me, who also moved down when the lights dimmed, was unpleasant-- crowding me in my seat and worrying that my boot might touch her. It was bench seating. Although the seats were generous, she decided to sit right on the edge of her seat next to me for the second act--and to be disapproving.

I was glad this was a show I knew backwards and forwards. I merely sang along in English in my head (well, mostly in my head...) and watched the dancing. I did laugh out loud when the line "My sister in now unfortunately deceased" was translated as "But now my sister nyet." No one else laughed but I was tickled.

light makes right?

Edited again to add: I've just heard what I've never heard broadcasted here before. There is a big, blue truck driving around broadcasting happy music!! Bring on the life-is-good-so-why-change-things propoganda machine! Putin described the voting today as "festive". Besides the lights and music, MANY incentives are being given to lure voters to the polls--mobile phones, tickets to concerts and events, housing contracts to villages with the highest percentage of "mature" voters, etc. Sounds festive to me.

The votes will be counted by next Saturday, according to Russia Today.

eta: link is fixed

Interestingly, (okay, I know I say that a lot, but I find lots of things interesting...) the holiday decorations went up much earlier this year than they did last year. Last year, if you remember, lights weren't up until after 5 December. This year, light were up before Thanksgiving. More lights and more trees are around the city. The Snovim Godim signs aren't up yet, but the other lights are up and, as of Friday, were lit.

My theory? I think it's all about the elections. I think having the holiday lights up makes people feel happy, warm, contented...like life is good. And, if life is good, why should people vote to change it? My Russian friends were amazed at my insightfulness when I posed this theory. It's nice to be seen as wise and not cynical when expressing these theories! While my Russian friends know all about the coercion and manipulation that occurs under the soviet system, they're still learning about the manipulation that occurs during this "free election".

Elections are tomorrow...

mmmm. pie.

Come on--we haven't had a quiz in ages! And, yes, this should have been a pre-Thanksgiving quiz...but chou2 didn't find it in time for me to steal it before Thanksgiving. ;>

Besides, I think we really should be eating *more* pie. Pie is an endangered dessert. And if we don't eat more pie, phrases such as easy as pie and that's a piecrust promise may disappear from the English language. Do you really want to be responsible for the degradation of the English language? Surely not. So eat more pie. (And take the quiz.)

You are Pumpkin Pie

You're the perfect combo of uniqueness and quality. You're able to relate to many types of people with many different tastes. But you're by no means generic or ordinary. In fact, you're one of the most original people around. Those who like you are looking for something (someone!) special. You tend confuse people when they first meet you. You're not as complicated as you seem. Even though you have a lot of spice and flavor to you, you're never overpowering. You are a calm and comforting force in people's lives.

What Kind of Pie Are You?

nope.

No news from SW.

No news about accreditation.

Agency isn't on the current re-accred list floating around FRUA.

So...at least my hs wasn't finished way before accreditation. Or vice-versa. Right? It should all time out nicely.

talking politics-edited

Above are the first set of political signs: "Putin's Plan is the Victory of Russia" . A teacher at school joked that they'd just taken all of Stalin's signs and changed the name. The vertical pix are about the plan. The one with writing says I-You-We. (There were more but I don't want to bore you.)


And, these are the new signs. It says: Putin's Russia, United and Independent. The vertical picture is of the footballer I mentioned before. I'm still working on identifying the others in the first photo. They're all featured on individual posters around town so they must be recognizable. The footballer's slogan says (I think) St. Petersburg chooses Putin. Петербург has been graffiti-ed out on other signs I've seen. Apparently, not all of St. P chooses Putin.

Click here for an article worth checking out in today's St. Petersburg Times about last weekend's protests. Interesting, eh?

Another teacher told me there is a big sign near her house that makes her feel like she's in the novel 1984. It says, "Putin is watching you." I asked her to take a picture of it for us!

I've been told that Putin values his reputation as a man of honor too much to manipulate things so that he can stay in office. His wife, however, is rumored to be a possibility. Sheesh. As if I didn't have enough of those husband-wife politicians! (You guessed it--not a fan of the Clint*ns.)Didn't Argentina just elect the president's wife, too?

bah humbug

I was on Amazon the other day with a list of recommended books to buy. Most were adoption books, full of interesting attachment tools and blah, blah, BLAH!

I do NOT want to read another adoption book! I've read good books and stupid books. I've read forums and blogs and online classes. I've read about attachment, trauma, PAD, out of sync children, memoirs, and bitter rantings. I've read about adopting toddlers and "older" children. I've read about medical issues. I've read about children adopted from Russia and China, the US, the UK and Ireland. I've read TONS and think I'm just about the most well-read ap out here. No, I'm not blowing my own horn. I've just had a long time to read! And right now, I just don't want to read about it any more.

Do you know what I need? A new Bridget Jones book. Anybody friends with Helen Fielding?


SW2 is due back from nursing her ailing mother (I am a BAD person who inside my head keeps saying something to the effect of Doesn't your sick mother need her rest? Can't you hit print on my hs while she's napping and then just pop to the post office while you're still in the US? I know. I said I was rotten. I am. And selfish.) on Wednesday. Agency continues to expect accreditation "any day".