Today and Tomorrows

Today was my second meeting with The Committee. The head of committee remembered me and was very friendly.

Today, things went well. Today, my not owning property is not an issue. Today, it is simply a matter of expanding my homestudy (costs some $$, but should be easy to do) and getting my last few documents notarized. Today, nothing could be said about approval because my dossier isn't officially in, but "when she is in court" was mentioned.

Today, things look good!

Now I have to get someone to jumpstart my car, get things notarized, have my doctor re-do the medical form on letterhead, make sure my agency in the US is talking to the Russia office, make sure I can just deal with the Russia office from here on in without upsetting the US office, stain my dresser, clean my flat, mend my clothes (why are ALL the hems coming out?), do laundry, make lesson plans... but that can all be done tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow.

After all, tomorrow is another day.

Peter Pan

was, of course, a huge crowd-pleaser. It wasn't as good as last year's "Wizard of Oz", but most people preferred this production. It had more songs and less text.

Here are the cosutmes I made (without benefit of patterns which is always a gamble). They were definitely costumes--meant to last one performance. Wendy's nightgown turned out well (and got me a huge hug from our Wendy) and met my biggest criteria--I didn't have to hem anything!



I didn't make Hook's entire cossie--only the trousers and the frills. Here she is with Smee.



Here's Wendy telling stories to the lost children.



I painted and fringed Tiger Liy's costume (and supervised kids' painting the other Indians). She is our Dorothy from last year. Please note that the cast on one Indian's arm was not my doing either!



And here's Peter (whose costume I was pleased with--fabric from Mom and designed by me) with the lost children. Unfortunately, ALL the photos of Peter are blurred b/c she is never still! Isn't our John Michael (not enough little boys for us to have a John and a Michael) a cutie? He was a HUGE hit with our Russian audience. They all whipped out their mobiles and took pix of him after the show.

back to committee today...or not

My meeting today is tentatively scheduled for 3 p.m. (That's 7 a.m. Eastern time.) Depending on how court proceedings for others go this morning, it could be earlier or later.

Prayer warriors, I covet your prayers!

Edited to add:

The person we need to see will not be available today, so instead I'm going to committee on Thursday at 2 p.m. Stay tuned, sports fans!

Halloween

Since Lauri asked...

From what I observed last year, Halloween is not celebrated in Russia. In fact, although my principal sent out a newsletter saying that it's a holiday that is celebrated in the UK and the US and Canada (our three governing embassies), I didn't find many people in England who celebrated it. In fact, I found a LOT of people thought it was disgraceful of Americans to send their children out begging for candy. I think it's primarily a North American holiday.

Our school is filled with what they call third culture kids. These are children who are born into one culture, live in a second and are educated in a third. While only two of my students are American, they are all being taught an American curriculum. They've read stories that mention Halloween and see it in their textbooks. We read "Ramona the Pest" earlier this year (one of my favs--and we all love Ramona) and a whole chapter was dedicated to what she did for Halloween. So, the students have the sort of forced-nostalgia for American culture that those of my generation had for the '50's by being fed a steady tv diet of Happy Days and The Wonder Years. They WANT to participate in Halloween activities, but don't know how.

Our school will be allowing the primary students to dress up in the afternoon. I think the middle school will come and do some activities with us. My class will guess the number of seeds in four different pumpkins and then hollow them out. (I'll roast the seeds for them and cook the pumpkins for Thanksgiving pies.) We'll also watch "The Great Pumpkin" and eat the peeps that Jenn sent me (but I'm hoarding the candy corn and moon pies!). Otherwise, it's just another school day.

When I..and lots of children's songs

(Warning: this is a bit disjointed and I'm leaving it. As my friend Suzanne says when talking to me--segues are for children.)

When I was at drama school in England, my anthropologically-inclined brain was constantly seeking to catalogue similarities and differences between the culture I grew up in and the British culture. Truth be told, I didn't think there would be THAT much of a difference. I tend to think of the US as The Great American Melting Pot (which of you Schoolhouse Rock Fans sang that?)--but with much of the early melting done by the UK.

So, I was surprised to find many differences. But, I still couldn't articulate what the big, underlying difference was. I think many of the differences have to do with geography. The UK is a small island (read Bryson's book) that used to be the centre of a big empire. And, there's not a lot of Elbow Room (still singing?) so personal space has to be protected in non-physical ways. But, there seemed to be something that I was missing in the attitude of my British friends.

Then, one day in movement class, our teacher was encouraging us to connect voice and body by singing a "familiar" children's song that everyone would know. Here are the lyrics:

"Right," said Fred, "Let's do it together. One each end. Steady as she goes."
Couldn't lift it, couldn't even shift it
We we getting nowhere and so we had a cuppa tea.

Lightbulb!! THIS was the way they inculcated their children? Whatever happened to the little engine that could? You know--I think I can, I think I can! What is this message of quit and drink tea when you encounter difficulty?

Today I was watching "Snoopy-The Musical" (It's the beginning of Fall Break. I have no other excuse...except Top Gear is on for FOUR hours every Saturday on BBC Prime!) and was hit by how AMERICAN the message was. I was singing along with the first song, even though I didn't remember ever seeing this before. The first song went like this:

Don't be leaf if you can be the tree
Don't be a raindrop, if you can be the sea
For the leaf may fall but the tree remains
It may never rain at all but the sea remains
Better to be the tree and the sea--see?
Don't be a cloud if you can be the sky
Don't be a feather, be the bird and fly
The clouds roll by but the sky rolls on
And a bird can fly with a feather gone
Be a bird and the sky and the tree and the deep blue sea
Don't be anything less than everything you can be

And the last song (sung to our insecure friend Charlie Brown), which I also somehow knew, went:
Wouldn't it be wonderful if everybody believed in everybody?

If just one person believes in you
Deep enough and strong enough believes in you
Hard enough and long enough before you knew it
someone else would think, if he can do it, I can do it
Making it two--two whole people who believe in you

It goes on to say if two people, there's bound to be three, if three why not four and if four why not more and more and more...

And when all those people believe in you
Deep enough and strong enough believe in you
Hard enough and long enough, it stands to reason
you yourself would see what everyone else sees in you
And maybe even you can believe in you, too

There's a great book called "Two Worlds of Childhood" (well, I find it fascinating) that talks about how the US and the USSR (it's old) differ in their childrearing practices. Whether consciously or not, parents and society are raising their children to value the things that will make them a successful member of the society they belong to. US children are encouraged to explore. The USSR children were encouraged to conform.

I was so frustrated in England by the lack of initiative of my students. But, in a socialist society, initiative is not as needed and not as valued as it is in a capitalist society. I found out when I lived in England the last time that I am very much a product of the culture in which I was raised. I'm very glad that I am an American. I think our society and our government and our culture--riddled with problems though they may be--are by FAR the best options on the global menu. The Catch 22 here is whether I'd feel this way if I wasn't such a product of my culture. I guess it doesn't really matter...I'm just glad I'm glad.

I think being out of my home-culture for so long I notice more and more differences. And, I miss the familiar; the "universality" of assumptions and values and beliefs that I find daily are decidedly NOT universal.

The desire to share all this mish-mash of cultural mumbo-jumbo (ooo...I'd love some of David's gumbo right now...) came about from a Peanuts video. I think I need this break even more than I thought I did.

super-quick

"Peter Pan" is tomorrow. Our dress rehearsal in front of 100 Russian students today went surprisingly well...so let's call it our opening performance to avoid the bad dress-good show vice versa... Tomorrow we have parents! I should be typing up our programme, and I will be shortly. But, first I just had to let you know that I'm going before the committee again next Tuesday. If progress isn't made it will be time for a new region...

Now I have to make Wendy a new nightgown. She left hers out and it, apparently, got "cleaned up". Of course, I don't have a pattern for it...Pictures later if it's very good...or very dreadful.

Kxo

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...