Thaw

These past few weeks, and especially after we returned from South Africa, we seem to have broken that winter inertia and have begun to get out a lot more with friends and colleagues. And I seem to have fallen into a routine of sorts that involves finally trying a lot more activities in town and more interaction with people than I'd previously engaged in. Well, it feels like a pattern was beginning to emerge, and then I finally left my job at the Consulate to return to my research, and of course I'm going through the inevitable period of adjustment to that, figuring out how to approach work and actually accomplish something, and concentrate well enough during work (or really nanny) hours to really get done what I want to do. But, between preschool classes, playdates, yoga, the theater, poker, and exploring Peter the Great Bay, we've seen a boom in social and exploratory activity in past month or so that's been a great change.

Pink Elephants
I'm not really sure what "Pink Elephant" means to Russians, but I've been told it has various meanings that aren't really appropriate to the toddler set in English. Be that as it may, we are still big fans of the "Pink Elephant Montessori Early Development Children's Center."

We go Thursday mornings to the Pink Elephant, 10:30-12. Essentially that means an outing from 10-12:30, what with getting dressed to go outside into the cold (which this week has thankfully started to end), driving down to the place (although it is relatively close, and just a short distance from the Consulate in fact), getting undressed once we've arrived, etc., etc. But it's worth it. I really enjoy getting out, having a change of scenery, seeing (if not really interacting to any significant degree) the other parents, and getting even more varied Russian language practice. And I think Anya too enjoys it -- seeing and interacting a bit with other kids, which seems so important right now at her age, and also the change of physical scene and the variety of toys and kinds of activities that it introduces for us.

The place is in a converted apartment, on the first floor of a typical older (1930s construction? I'm really not sure) Russian apartment building. The place itself is nice, even if you are greeted with the stink of the common areas when you enter the stairwell/entryway (some things in Russia never change). If we get there in time, all those who're attending that session sit together in a circle to introduce themselves and greet one another, and then it's just off to the races, following what I understand is typical to the Montessori method, letting the kids themselves choose what to do and providing guidance once they've chosen. We gather again just at noon, when the teacher tells a little story with figures, which inevitably has some kind of moral lesson (the time there was an obnoxious, bratty boy, whose behavior actually was really surprsing, given how good most of the children are, she told a story about a boy who always was mean to people and animals and got his comeuppance when he offended a hedgehod and learned his lesson that he should be nicer to everyone). And we all say goodbye in a similar way and then begins the process of getting dressed again, with all of those layers and hats and scarves and boots, etc., etc.

The place has four rooms: the main one has all sorts of developmental toys, from puzzles, books, play tables with sand and beans to rake through and pour; there is the "wet zone" with play tables and basins for playing with water; there is the "blowing off steam room" with more playground-type equipment, for physical play; and then there's more of a creative activity room, where I think you can draw or paint -- we haven't really gone in there much yet.
For some reason we seem to start out at the plastic and wooden fruit, often do some work with the sand/bean stations, trying not to make that much of a mess to clean, spend some time in the "blow off steam" room, and sometimes get preoccupied with the shiny marbles and colorful, flat stones in one of the rooms. This last Thursday was our first real foray into the water room, where we got wet enough to resort to our change of clothes before leaving. The sponge, and all of its properties of gathering and releasing water, made a real hit.

The Pink Elephant has been so inspiring, I have us set to try out a second local preschool on Friday.

The After-CLO
I'm getting out more myself, too. Something about the process of thinking through what we should do next, together with the fact that there is now an increasingly close end-date of our life in Vlad, has me fighting inertia more and getting out and doing things.

I've now been twice to the Sarasvati Yoga Center -- apparently the only one (only dedicated center -- in its own freestanding structure, no less! -- devoted to yoga and only to yoga) in Vlad, although yoga classes are given in various settings around town. This place is actually for me a fascinating mix of The Familiar and The Alien. In some ways it is so very much like the (very few) yoga places I've experienced outside Russia, in the level of informality, the serious dedication to yoga, yet the mix of sports-minded and more consciousness/Eastern-spiritual perspective on yoga. But the funny thing to me is the way the women (so far all the clientele I've seen are women) are just so very Russian in the end. For starters, they all wear makeup. And I guess, for whatever reason, Russians can't imagine going out in town wearing exercise clothes -- it isn't really something I ever thought about, but now that I do, I realize you really don't ever see anyone dressed in obvious exercise clothes outside. So, for yoga, everyone wears their street clothes and changes there. I guess that is part of the reason that all of them also wear surprisingly nice undies and bras, too -- as usual, in Russia, although this time in a new and different way, I feel soooo very un-zhenskii. And finally (I've only been there twice so far; I'm sure I'll come up with more as time goes by), instructor and students alike had no problem sitting down together right after class last Saturday with a big chocolate cake, tea, and champagne to celebrate March 8, International Women's Day, together. This was very nice for me, since they were so welcoming to a newcomer, insisting that I take off my already-donned coat and scarf and join them, yet also for me so curious, since I can't imagine anyone at my old yoga center in DC doing anything of the sort.

The yoga taught there is primarily Iyengar, which is different from the Ashtanga I've done, but still very enjoyable. It's great to get out and see other people, to participate in a class. Iyengar, at least in the way they're teaching it at this place, involves much less intense movement with breath (the "flow" of the style with that name, which I understand is like Ashtanga), and much more attention to individual poses and one's stance and the placement of nearly every single muscle and body part, and how they should be tensed or relaxed or stretched or pointed within a pose. It feels like a good slow, concentrated effort, and it complements nicely any of the more athletic Ashtanga I'm able to fit in at home over the week (which inevitably is unfortunately rushed and/or abbreviated, and done with the aid of either my own memory or an audio recording only, so my attention to each pose is inevitably rushed and more superficial). And, yet again, just like the preschools, this is proving a great way to practice and broaden my Russian: I come home each time and have a handful of anatomical words to look up and/or confirm that understood correctly in class, such as coccyx, shoulder blades, kneecaps, groin, and spinal column.

Exploring More Primorye
We took a ferry ride with friends across the Peter the Great Bay this weekend, for an overnight stay in Slavyanka, and had a surprisingly good time just seeing a new place, hanging out, and enjoying spending time with a fun, well-behaved Anya. In fact, it went so well that we're reminded of how, especially now that spring is really sproinging, we need to get out and explore more, whether on day trips or again staying the night on the road.

It's hard to describe what was good about this trip: it isn't as though Slavyanka has much to offer, really. Our New Zealander friend, a longtime resident of Vlad, suggested that taking the ferry across the bay while the ice was still present was an experience not to be missed, so we agreed to travel as walk-ons on the Saturday evening ferry from Vlad and return on the Sunday afternoon ferry (the only options on offer), for a trip that has us gone from home a little less than 24 hours in all.

It went appropriately not-as-expected in several ways. Anya was great, and our apprehension about travel with her was allayed. After the trouble with sleep in South Africa, we were wary of what might happen in a strange hotel room. And even despite this (and the hotel's lack of a crib), we decided to travel light and not bring our portable crib. But the kid did great, going right to sleep on the bedspread bordered by pillows that Dan set up for her next to our bed when we laid her down at 10, and waking up only at about 7:30.

The hotel (the "best in the town" according to our taxi driver) was pretty good, all things considered, but since we chose to travel on International Women's Day, the cafe downstairs was fully booked and rocking out when we checked in at about 9:30. But we were able to order food (from some skeptical waitresses) up to the hallway outside our rooms on the third floor, where the 5 adults in our group sat around a low table and enjoyed surprisingly good salads and starters, pork chops smothered in cheese and mayonnaise (hey, we've lived here a year and a half -- some things you just get used to) and scallops. On Sunday morning, three (and a half) of us set out to explore the town on foot, and finally found the closest thing possible to the joke fantasia that was spun out the night before about a now settled itinerant Frenchman, an espresso machine and some expertly made pastries. There was no Pierre in sight, but the Buffet "Tranzit" was nothing like what the name may call to mind. It was clean and sunny, with an unexplained American-themed decor, complete with cheesy Route 66 pictures and a photo poster of a double-decker sightseeing Big Apple tour bus on the streets of New York. The pastries were actually quite good (OK, not French, but surprisingly good), and there was even real brewed coffee, even if we were charged a dollar for about 2 ounces of it.

And when we met up with our New Zealand-Russian pair and their 2 kids, we made a post-breakfast tour of Slavyanka and surroundings, care of our previous night's taxi driver's colleague with a minivan. His vehicle did yeoman's service on a couple of muddy inclines and a dusty climb to the top of the local hill, during which our Kiwi friend recited some kind of antipodean mantra to ward off the possibility that our vehicle might roll sideways. The pictures (which really do give the sense of what a non-destination Slavyanka was -- it really was about getting out, exploring, and enjoying each other's company and the beautiful weather, complete with temperatures above 10 degrees C) are on Flickr, as usual.

And in other news...
Things We Learned In South Africa and Haven't Unlearned
A call and response number that goes like this:
Anya: "Tapp!" ("Chop!" from the Nigerian hip-hop song whose refrains asks...)
Mom or Dad: "Whatch'ou wann chop?!"
Anya: "Pah-tah!" ("Small stout!," an adaptation of the response in the song, a baby voice that says "I wann' drink small stout!")

Well, you probably had to be there, or at least have to listen to the song yourself to understand the humor...

What we're listening to:
the new Bettie Serveert, Bare Stripped Naked
more Feist
The Pretenders greatest hits (especially my favorites, Kid and Talk of the Town)
Neutral Milk Hotel, In the Aeroplane Over the Sea

What we're saying:
O-key!
U'-oh! and Uups!
Hah-reh! = hooray!
tikka = kitty-cat (also kissa = kittycat in Russian) Both variants followed by squeals and giggles of delight, and, if the cats are unlucky, various attempts to pet or scare them.
shi' = shirt
patt = pants
tait-ss = tights
boo-tay, boo-day = for some unexplained reason, mittens
pato = sweater
bah-koo = buckle
sjak, hyak = sock
yek = light
dahk = dark
bikk/bekk = 1. milk, 2. book
Tatti = Charlie (son of a friend, whose photo sits by the highchair and therefore is very familiar now)
Maya = Mara (family photos also sit nearby)
da-dya = all men who are not daddy, including Grandpas and Great-Grandpas ("Dyadya" does have that meaning in Russian, when it doesn't mean "uncle.")
Ghamma = grandma
Nongo = Noriko, our neighbor
Ngimmi = Jimmy, Noriko's son
yammi/nammi = yummy
yakki = yucky
gabig, kabig = garbage
doo-dats = dirty
koht = cold (Cf. aisseee)
haht = hot
kavvi = coffee (and sometimes cough)
oon = orange
tu-tu-tu = Cheerio
deppi = dipping sauce
hman = pen
hmoon = spoon
man-key/bah-kki = monkey
boii = boy
rou = loud
kah, kau = car (tends to rhyme with "rou")

Balls, Hoops, and Future Plans

We've been back in Vlad for just over a week, and it feels like there is already so much to report that I don't know where to begin.

We spent more time than we would have liked on our vacation, and the first week back, poring over the decision of what to do next: stay in Vlad a third year; return to DC; or do another overseas tour. We were forced to mull this over while in South Africa because the State Department shot the starting gun on the administrative process by which Dan is eligible to apply for any overseas posts, and the window for applying and agreeing to take one of the positions that were posted was only 2 weeks long. The positions on offer didn't include a lot that we were interested in, and given our (especially my) mood lately, it seemed like a no-brainer that we would return to the US. But Dushanbe, Tajikistan, was there, and before we came to Vlad we had both had interest in Central Asia, and particularly this position, not to mention the couple of years training in Persian that I did and had hoped someday to make good on. So, after a surprisingly tortured week of considering it, getting in touch with people there, going back and forth and back and forth as to what was the smartest and best thing for us to do, we decided to sign up for another 2 year tour, this time at the US Embassy in Dushanbe. Unfortunately, since the country is showing up on the front pages and my Google news alerts for the extreme (and atypical) cold temperatures and the related impending humanitarian crisis it may endure, that decision is a little hard to swallow right at this time, but we are confident that the place and the community will be an interesting and good change from Vlad, and that the lessons we've learned on this tour will allow us to approach the next in a way that will also improve our lives in Tajikistan.

Meanwhile, the break in South Africa and the intense discussion we've been having about what to do and what we want, even despite the stresses that came along with each of those, has had the effect somehow of jolting me into more activity and a better attitude here at home.

Although I haven't yet made it to a class, I'm closer to making yoga a part of my life again, since I've at least starting researching when classes are offered at the handful of places near us. I gave notice at my job at the Consulate on Monday and of course have promptly begun actually getting done some of the tasks I had been trying to get motivated to do, but hadn't yet. Both Dan and I have been out more socially (maybe it took a little going out separately in S. Africa to confirm for us that this was OK and even necessary: to trade off leaving one of us at home, when we can't get a babysitter), including two outings for me this past weekend spending time with friends and just hanging out and having people to talk to. And, partly inspired by Anya's big leaps in development, I finally called and took her to a Montessori development center/preschool, which we both loved and which we plan to keep attending once a week, for a 1.5 hour "class" each Thursday morning.

Tonight's outing for me, since Dan is scheduled to do a poker night with the guys this Friday, was to take the Consulate season tickets to the local "Spartak-Primorye" basketball club's game against "Ural-Great." Again, this is something we have been meaning to do, as the tickets rotate around among the few interested employees at our post, but somehow we have not gotten around to it. Tonight I went with our neighbor and Dan stayed home with Anya, and I think it's safe to say that I'm hooked! It was surprisingly fun to watch the team, cheer along with the locals, sit through the gyrations of the dancers, admire Spartak's mascot, Lyosha the Tiger, scan the public and observe Russian hoops fan behavior (many of them do wear team colors -- I was mildly pleased we'd both coincidentally worn red sweaters), and try to figure out how the Americans on the 2 teams felt about playing out here in a small arena in Vladivostok. And it was of course all the more enjoyable since Spartak pulled out a win in the end, inching back from about 8 or 9 points down from about 4 minutes remaining in the second quarter to finally put themselves over the edge with a couple of foul shots with 20 seconds left on the clock.

What we're eating:
a lot of spicy Thai instant noodle soups, since we got about $50 worth from ThaiGrocer
more homemade sourdough bread (Anya loves it)

What we're listening to:
Feist, The Reminder (it -- especially tracks 2 and 9 -- can't help but lift your mood)

What we're saying:
Manina = Marina (our nanny)
kusay, kutay = kushai, or eat! in Russian
yakki = yucky (often in reference to a diaper change)
zaika = rabbit in Russian (referring, of course, to rabbit-bear, her favorite stuffed animal, who is "beah"/bear in English)
pat = pants
hatch = hat
aissee = icy (a very appropriate observation much of the time)
uppitti = upstairs (or downstairs, for that matter)
hail = hair
bop = bread
koo-kee = cookie, but really means almost anything starchy
appo = apple, but really can mean any fruit, also interchangable with "peah" for pear
pokka = poka, or "bye" in Russian (now said with very good pronunciation when someone is leaving, and accompanied with a wave)
kah = car, or any little car-like toy that has wheels
zeppa = zipper, still a favorite
mekk = milk

Oh, and another rather big recent achievement: Anya recently learned to use a straw and now can drink (with supervision) out of an open glass by slurping up through a "trubochka." Luckily in Russia cafes and restaurants give straws out even to adults without asking, so this now it's pretty easy to give the kid a drink while out!

Breaking the Ice (Yes, In June)

I'm really happy to report that, finally, this month, I've been having some very promising social contact with people.

I'm not sure how much this has come across in our posts here or in individual correspondence, but this is truly one area where our life here has been slow to develop -- and where we've felt the strain. As we often remark jokingly, wistfully, frustratedly to one another, "we ain't got peeps."

As I mentioned in my last post, the first half of June was, for me, abustle with professional activity and creative inspiration. It also brought contact with the visitors (and the local participants) who had gathered for a history conference, which was also rewarding. But I find that there are several directions I want to be spending my -- now, of course, with Anya, seemingly limited -- time and energy, and it's tough to figure out how to organize them all and not feel like I'm doing many things only at half tilt. I want and need to spend time with Anya, of course, and spending time with Dan is also important. Professional activity is a priority, too. You can't ignore your own private, personal time, either, whether trying to get in a little exercise or reading -- that kind of thing. But then there's one more area, which I now realize probably would have demanded a little less energy in this first year of parenthood if we had not set out here in a completely new place, knowing no one, and of course not being native speakers of the language, and that is the social.

So far, I think our feeling about the very small diplomatic post (and in a place with very few expats in other, non-diplomatic spheres) is that it's pretty limiting socially. Partly it's an issue of one of us having already spent the entire workday with these people, and then you come home, only to have the same small set of people naturally at your doorstep to socialize with. Partly it's also that old issue of choice, which worried us coming in: given a somewhat random grouping of fewer than ten people, what are the odds that you're going to be socially compatible with them, for anything more than the occasional meeting-up? Not much, I will answer with some experience.

And, of course, we had hoped before we moved that my work would represent the outlet beyond the American diplomatic circle, but for various reasons that hasn't really panned out. I'm more happy spending time with Anya than I'd expected, and I haven't sought out (yet?) some of the more active kinds of things I'd expected to engage in (and the things I have done, for instance the high school teaching, brought less interaction with other people than expected).

But in the last few weeks, while Marina, our nanny, has been on vacation, I've been restricted in how much work I can do, which has meant, on the other hand, that I've had more opportunity to meet people. And you will never guess how it's happened...

See, there's this amazing thing called the In-Ter-Net (or is it Internets? Oh, you know what I mean, those tubes...).

No, but seriously, and more precisely, it really has been an online discussion forum that's helped. It's actually quite interesting what technology makes possible. I never would have predicted that this would be an effective way to make friends in, of all places, Russia, but it has. (And, above and beyond the social contact it has facilitated for us, it's amazing to me what a valuable language tool this form of communication can be. I can't imagine another manner in which you could so effectively listen in on native speakers speaking/writing in slang, unnoticed if you want, and therefore take all the time in the world to read and figure out what they are talking about... It provides such an amazing window into contemporary Russian language and culture, which I find fascinating.)

At some point in the spring, I found a website called "VladMama.ru," with some information on local events and on parenting in general, but by far the most interesting part of the site to me is its discussion forums. Just like its English-language counterparts, this local forum has the full gamut of subjects and subsections -- from discussions of pregnancy and parenting to cooking, crafts, cultural events and local things to do, jokes and games, etc., etc. I started out posting a little bit to this one "English language corner" subsection, where people were taking the opportunity to practice their English (and which since then unfortunately has actually fallen a bit into disuse -- which I hope I didn't prompt by poking my virtual head in as a native speaker! It honestly isn't clear why it's died down -- maybe just that it's summer, and nobody's stuck inside any longer).

Then, in April, I got so busy with teaching that I didn't have time to look at it much. But since school has ended, and especially with Marina gone, I've had quite a chance to read (and take part in) some of the discussions more closely, as well as to meet several of the women in person.

Since I've never been much of a forum participant in the U.S., all I can do is assume that typically these things don't translate into much of a social network in the "real world." But for whatever reason, surely in part because this is largely a local forum, a good portion of these people meet up in "real," as they say ("в реале"). In the past month or so I've gone from taking part in discussions on the public part of the forum and getting to know people that way to exchanging private messages with a few people on the part of the site that allows this, to instant messaging with one young woman who lives in our neighborhood, to meeting up with a large group of "VladMamas" at a local playground and bliny (Russian pancake) cafe one recent sunny day, and to meeting up on-on-one with a couple of women and their kids. And finally, today, I took part in a group charity outing at a local temporary rehabilitation home for kids. And it all feels really great!

Of course, as with any contact at the very beginning, you never can tell where it will lead -- whether it will really be possible to forge lasting friendships with these people. (I should say, of course, that it won't be possible to make such connections with most of them -- that's just a fact of life.) But it feels so good to have some contact with people, by definition pretty much all of whom are having many of the same experiences as us right now (well, so far it has just been the moms and the kids getting together, but I'm hoping to get the rest of the families together in a few cases). It also felt surprisingly good today to go out and do a little something to help some kids who aren't as lucky as ours, and to play with them and show them some tenderness, for which they clearly are very hungry. I guess the latter is a feeling not of making some tentative individual connections with people, but rather one of being a part of a larger whole, getting involved in an organized set of interactions that really strive to do something good (and what a pleasant surprise to find this in Russia -- the Land of the Lacking Civil Society!).

All of which is to say that this budding social life is of course taking some of my attention away from work, but I tend to look on this as just as important -- if not moreso -- in making our life here in Vlad more normal, and in getting us the human contact that one always needs.