Some Impressions From a Move In Process

They came and took our air baggage on Monday morning. Of course, since that is the little bit of stuff that is supposed to get to Dushanbe more quickly than the rest of our household effects (and since we now know that all our other "HHE" will go via slow boat first to a US government site in Belgium and then on some unknown route to Dushanbe, perhaps taking many months), we felt some pressure to choose wisely on what went into our air freight.

We hadn't really done the forethought to realize, for instance, that we'd want our desktop computer (and would therefore need to back up the hard drive and all) to go by air, so that was stressing us out on Sunday, once we'd realized. And of course there is always more sorting and organizing than you realize. But now we've had a little breathing room with the first packout day out of the way, and we are gearing up for the remaining packout to be done on this coming Monday and Tuesday.

At least next time, when they come for everything else, all we need to do is separate out what we'll take on the plane with us, and all the rest just needs to get packed and shipped -- not as many choices to be made.

Although, it's true that this packout is the one where you need to make sure whatever you don't want packed up is either nailed down, sealed in a secure and properly marked location, or forced outside where it can't hide and die in the shipment (that last again referring primarily to the risks involved with cats, but of course if a stray diaper were left in a diaper pail for the several months the shipment were travelling, that too would very quickly smell like something had died). This is the packout where your nightmare is that your passport gets packed up into one of the boxes -- then what will you do? (They even have a public service announcement about that on Armed Forces Network TV -- it's one of my favorites, right after the toddler choking hazard warning, "shady character from the nuthouse," spot.)

Of course, as we are preparing to leave I'm having little exchanges of both the positive and the negative kind, and they impress me differently than if I knew we were staying. The main negative one: the single, solitary response I have gotten to my public, online advertisements trying to find new homes for our cats was an accusatory message about "how dare we not try to take our pets with us," how "we humans are responsible for the animals we take into our homes" -- which made me furious and unable to shake my anger for several hours. (It subsequently has come to light that the sender was dumped with her parents Angora cat when they moved, but, hey, why take out your bitterness on me, lady? Take a moment to think before you press "send"!)

But I've also had some good interactions lately that make me feel good about the life we've had here in Vlad and in Russia, and not so much sorry to go, but I guess confident in some way that I'll be able to find similarly comfortable modes of being in Dushanbe.

I took in a bunch of old, too-small baby clothes the other day to donate to a local church, something I'd been meaning to do for a while. Of course, you can imagine that that wouldn't be a terrible experience, but in Russia you never know what can go wrong or turn out to be unpleasant. But, sure enough, I went into the lobby of the church out on the peninsula leading out to the lighthouse on the edge of town, and the lady manning the religious items and books kiosk that seems to always precede the actual sacred space in Russian Orthodox churches was all aflutter and happy to show me where to leave my boxes, and assured me that even little baby clothes would come in handy for the kids the church supports. It made me feel good to finally check something off of my list and of course -- an easy one -- to know I was doing something small that might benefit the local community.

Yesterday I took in a CD of photos to get them printed (I'm making a surprise gift for Marina of a little photo book with pictures of Anya all throughout our stay), and the guy in the photo shop was really nice, wanted to speak English with me in a friendly way, and in general the transaction went very well and the printed pictures were good quality and very cheap. (It even made me realize I should go back and print up another set to make a little photo book for Anya, as a keepsake of her first two years, spent in Vladivostok. What a concept -- digital photos on paper! It's been so long since I've developed photos...)

And then Anya and I went to the open market for some veggies and fruit, which has become my habit, finally, after many months (and on earlier visits to Russia, the equivalent of years, I suppose) of anxiety that made it difficult for me to tackle the market on a regular basis. But now I feel confident enough of myself and my Russian that I won't get ripped off (I can even demand unbruised pieces and can bargain a cup of berries down from exorbitantly expensive, if need be!). Now I enjoy going to the little market down the hill from us to get my fresh produce and dried fruit and nuts. This time the lady behind the counter where we bought our grapes was helpful when I had my arms full with kid and produce, and when Anya remarked "you hungry!" as the little bag of fruit appeared, the seller asked with a chuckle, "Does she know Russian too?"

I realized that I feel a confidence just being out and about a lot of the time here in Vlad that is a nice counterweight to some of the doubt I feel about how I've pursued my professional work here. For the most part I'm happy with the research I've done, and I know I've gathered a hell of a lot of material that will make a good history. But I guess I have learned something about myself in the past few years, and that is that I will always have trouble contacting live people who might be good to talk to for my work, and that has been true here for sure. Books and archival documents are just so much easier, there's so much less risk of a bad relationship! Anyway, I've been feeling bad that I am somehow unable to contact and speak a bit more to one of the virologists in town who studies tick-borne encephalitis today, feeling that I'm no good for having that trouble and, when all is said and done, for most likely never calling or meeting with her again. But then when I go around town running my errands or whatever, I realize how much has gone well in life here, how much I've been able to accomplish (and have needed to accomplish: the bottom line is we've been in a new, foreign place, not at home!) in other, more mundane, but no less important realms: knowing my city and driving around with confidence (I guess for the past year I've actually been the only spouse** here in our American group to drive at all!); shopping and getting what I need and what pleases me either food-wise or things-wise; having a few friends and balancing that with my work, and having success at gathering data and working with inanimate legible sources, if not with the animate kind; and taking good care of and having fun with Anya, whether at home or at Montessori or on the playground. I guess that is a pretty good set of things to have achieved, and I'm not unhappy with that.
[** Ha! I realized only belatedly that this idea really shows how much I've swallowed the reigning sexism of the Foreign Service: I'm of course the only female spouse (weaker sex, anyone?) here who has driven among all who've lived here this past year, but the one male trailing spouse, well, of course, he'd probably never dream of not driving -- not to mention his apparent views on not working...]

All of that is positive, but I have to at least note -- it is such a terrible set of events that I still don't know how to understand, so I can't write much more -- that we've also been following with trepidation as Russia and Georgia came to armed conflict in the past week. We've been thinking of our friends in Tbilisi, have been shocked at how quickly it all came to pass, and depressed about what it means for the people on the ground and for what it demonstrates about the political and foreign relations realities.

What we are saying:
all kinds of colors: yeyo, bwu, red, white, oinge, bwak (and a similar range in Russian)
comparisons: big, "hmah" (and sometimes even "small" -- we're getting better at s + consonant pronunciation)
(And, interestingly, Anya has made a very strong connection between big and heavy: to the point of even thinking and saying that if a butterfly is big, it's also heavy, or a hug that is big is also heavy.)
A series of numbers that demonstrates at least the start of an understanding of the concept of counting. Whenever there are more than one of an object, you're likely to hear "wann-too-fee-fawf," which is Anya's version of 1-2-3-4-5, with 4 and 5 sort of smushed together into one word. (Hey, those are big numbers, once you get up into the stratosphere, what's the difference?)
Many requests, and many of them accompanied by "please." Here is a typical exchange these days in our kitchen:
"More milk!"
"What do you say?"
"More milk, pweeeez..."
"Very nice, here you go."
Also: "kiss it!" and "hug!"
Also some past tenses: "kisst it!"
And some rocky starts to the use of pronouns, as in: "you hungry!" "you tired!" "you finished!" and "you scared!" when really what is meant is "I'm ....," or "carry you!" and "help you!" in place of " ... me!" I guess when your main mode of learning is repeating, of course you're going to get those things wrong when the perspective changes and you're saying it yourself instead of mom or dad asking whether you feel or did something.
Also a pretty good memory: especially getting reinforced when we turn down the leafy street that leads to the Vlad Motor Inn, and Anya remarks correctly that both sausage and slides/playground will soon be enjoyed.

What we used to say (for the record, an attempt at compiling past idiosynchratic words, with an asterisk denoting those that are not yet obsolete):
appi
bop
happa
bik
manna
wawa*
yaindann*
sseepie
uppadeez
noi
pafo*
hmoon
fumm
fingam
ayah
tikka*
payday
Tay-tay
Agga
tututu
bayo*
pato*
psai-psai
bayefai
aissee
tahs
tah-fee
pishi
yeg*
yabb-i*
yek*
Nimma
H'mp'hah
paya
fawf
oyay
e'feh*
gaggy
kroya
akkapiya*
pla-puh*
gai-yay
yips*
(Translations available on request.)

A Little Pre-South Africa Update

What we're listening to:

Can't get away from those Tiny Cities (I forgot to mention last time: this album holds a special place at least in my heart, since we played it constantly during the first couple of weeks after bringing Anya home from the hospital, when we were just figuring out that she was a pretty colicky baby. This was the music to which we did that legendary baby-soothing shuffle that folks from Marc Weissbluth to Harvey Karp love to talk about)

Pierre Akendengue, Espoire a Soweto (OK, so we won't be staying in Southwest Township exactly, but we are getting pretty amped up for our South Africa trip)

La Bamba: Sones Jarochos from Veracruz

Ravi Shankar, Three Ragas



What we're saying:

ball: "baw," "bah," "boe"

water: yes, "wa-wa" does appear to mean all things liquid, from milk (sometimes interchangeable with "nam-nam"), to water or juice, to coffee, tea, wine or beer (referring to when big people are drinking them), to water from the faucet or in the bathtub

diaper: "day-ba"



(OK, I hope you won't get grossed-out by a few bathroom-related words, but, hey, that's life with a toddler...)



ca-ca: I guess this one's universal. I can actually see where the word may naturally arise from, since Russians encourage babies to make a little grunting noise when trying to go to the bathroom, and it's really just a slight shift from there to "ka-ka"

pee-pee: "pay-pee" (easily confused with "bay-bee" but decicedly not the same thing)



Clearly our bathroom related vocabulary is growing, even if the connection made between relieving ourselves and actually hitting the pot is not yet really within our (OK, just Anya's, thankfully) grasp.



A: "ay" (Usually quickly followed by "Anya," in recognition of what most important function this letter often fulfills. [Yes, I think that a combination of the A-shaped Anya cookies and the talking Alphabet Pal toy my mom gave Anya for Christmas is surprisingly helping Anya really recognize the letter A, and say its name correctly. Pretty cool.])

cock-a-doodle-doo (which in Russian basically translates to "ku-ka-re-ku"): "kakaraga"

peek-a-boo: "pyka-paw" (rhymes with "Ty kuda," as in "where-ya-go, where-ya-go")

ice: "ais" (and the recent weather here, hovering around -12C, but going down to -20 last night, has given us plenty of opportunity to practice that one!)



What we're eating:

homemade sourdough bread, made from daughter-starter scooped from the jar of our neighbor, Noriko

(Anya especially likes sourdough grilled ham and cheese sandwiches)

Ginger chicken a la Madhur Jaffrey



What we're reading:

I am on an 18th century jag -- finished the masterly, truly inspiring New York Burning, and now am on to The Speckled Monster, but am reading it intermittently with The Oracle Bones.

And surely I will pick up something interesting in South Africa, too.

A New Year's Sampling

The New Year's season in Vladivostok has brought some renewed social activity and, especially during the long break from work that is now a pretty well ingrained tradition in Putin's Russia, some new wintry activities.

The interesting thing to me about a lot of these New Year's events is that, despite having spent a bunch of time in Russia before, I guess since that was without a kid and sometimes involved taking advantage of the holidays as a time to get away, I never got to see some of the things Russians associate very closely (and enthusiastically) with New Year's.

I should note that, thanks to the official atheism of Soviet times, Russian New Year's encompasses a lot of the kinds of celebration that Americans associate with both Christmas (and in fact also Thanksgiving, given that it comes so close to Christmas) and New Year's. You get the family-oriented time of Thanksgiving and Christmas, the gift-giving traditions of Christmas, and the dress-up, go-out-and-party ethos of New Year's all rolled into one holiday. And even though anyone who wants to is now free to celebrate Orthodox Christmas, it seems like this latter holiday is either more singularly a religious occasion, centered around the church and spiritual life, and/or an added chance for family-centered gift-exchanges, rather than supplanting the familiar New Year's traditions for which I can now fully see Russians have a great fondness.

Thanks to a friend from VladMama, Anya and I both experienced our first "Yolka," the traditional children's New Year's party that takes its name from the holiday fir tree that is its centerpiece. Kids apparently tend to go to more than one of these, or probably as many as their family can afford, and at the very least a morning New Year's party (utrennik) with all the same trappings we experienced is de rigueur for those who attend preschool in Russia. Perhaps the most unusual aspect of the utrennik for an American is the fact that all kids wear costumes to the party (as our nanny Marina confirmed for me, if we were to go to the party in just regular clothes or even party clothes, people would definitely think we were weird parents). So, after I first fretted over how to make time to go and buy a costume, and what might be the least amount of money I could get away with spending on it, Marina came to the rescue and reminded me that the Jack-o-lantern costume she'd seen tucked away in the closet would make a fine costume, and had none of the associations with Halloween here that might have caused a few raised American eyebrows were we to wear it anytime outside of October in the US.

So we set out to the VladMama-sponsored party as a "tykovka," a little pumpkin, together with our friends Nina (fellow VladMamochka) and her daughter, Vika (who was dressed as a princess). It was really quite a morning, especially since the smaller of our pair (well, heck, and the larger of us, too) is not all that used to interacting with very many others at one time, especially not a crowd of excited, screaming kids, running around in all directions in anticipation of Ded Moroz (Grandfather Frost, or the twentieth-century version of Santa Claus that is still very much a Russian cultural icon).

There are some videos of this on YouTube: two help you to imagine the jubilation that was on display even during the preparatory stages, prior even to Santa's warm-up act of a Rabbit and a Wolf with a very witty repartee, and probably a full half-hour before Moroz made his big appearance and had us hopping and touching our toes and guessing various things and dancing around the holiday tree. All with his usual sidekick, the beautiful young snow-bunny Snegurochka. The third video shows Anya off to the side, reveling in the miracle of the Velcro that was intended to hold her costume on, and ignoring the kids and moms dancing in a circle and awaiting the time of the party when Moroz would hand out the presents.

Imagine my surprise when it turned out that we had not really flown under the radar, but that "Tykovka" was actually one of a handful of guests at the party who were discussed and admired online on the VladMama forums. The general consensus was that Tykovka was a real cutie.

What other parts of Russian New Year's did we experience for the first time, with fresh eyes, or with a new twist? The work/professional New Year's party, now in its post-Soviet incarnation (we splurged for the VIBA [Vladivostok International Business Association] Christmas/New Year's party). We do not yet have photographic or video evidence, but Dan was an avid (if reluctant) participant in the silly reverie that is the adult version of the children's utrennik. (My armchair interpretation of why Russians are so extremely fond of New Year's is that not only do adults engage in some heavy nostalgia during this period, everyone gets to be a kid during the extended festivities -- and much more than we tend to in American Christmas or New Year's celebrations.)

[As you might have gleaned from this post, our closer look at post-Soviet New Year's has given me new interest in this as a cultural and historical phenomenon. If you're curious like me, here is one interesting (Russian) article I found exploring some of the roots of the familiar twentieth-century New Year's traditions that Russians continue to enjoy, and which themselves continue to evolve, today. And here is a blurb and photoessay tracing the New Year's Yolka from its 1936 reintroduction into Soviet life up to the (recent) present.]

We also -- again thanks to my friend Nina -- were able to see the latest cinema craze to hit Russia: a sequel to the very classic New Year's movie "The Irony of Fate (or, Happy Steaming!)" (that is obviously a rough translation: the parenthetical part of the title refers to the engine of all the mischief of the 1975 original, where vodka plus banya plus a trip to the airport plus the monotony of Soviet architecture and city planning equal mayhem on New Year's Eve). The annual viewing and the antics of the plot easily bring to mind a Soviet version of "It's a Wonderful Life." The 2007 version of the New Year's movie has a similar scenario of mistaken identity and mistaken location playing out among the adult children of the pair(s) who were central to the original movie. And in grand Russian capitalist style, it featured loads of annoying product placements. But it was fun -- so much so that I planned the following day, December 31, around the scheduled TV broadcast of the original.

Finally, what else? Well, probably that's it for New Year's and maybe I should leave it there, and promise to report on the more general outdoor winter sporting and recreational activities at a later date. You can see some scant pictures of this on our Flickr pages.

And now for an update in other categories...:

What We're Saying:

ah-choo!: "Aaah-TCHEEE!" (Cf. What We're Listening To)

water?!: "wa-wa" (so far almost exclusively, in the two days I've noticed it used, in reference to a cup or bottle of some liquid)

hi: "hai," "ha," and sometimes even an honest-to-goodness "hi"

Edgar (the cat): "Adda," "Agga"

Sanchez (the cat): "Didi," "Didji"

omelette: "omma" (Cf. What We're Eating)



Responses:
1. Question: What do ducks say?

Response: "Wock, wock!"



2. Word said: Bear (teddy or otherwise)

Response: [smile, close eyes, hold hands and arms to tummy] (= hug!)



3. Shape seen: "A" (Cf. What We're Eating: Anya cookies)

Response: "Aing!" (or even "Anya!")



Points to in response to the word:

Ears, eyes, mouth, teeth, nose.

Also much pointing to head and recent fascination with belly buttons (own and parents').



What We're Eating:

pan-seared duck breast with mushroom-red wine reduction sauce, with spinach salad

(fancy night! thanks to Dan)



omelettes

(Hot Feeding Tip from Anya Kronenfeld: If your toddler refuses to eat something, even something she ate with gusto just yesterday, or even this morning, just cut/mash/puree it and add it to scrambled egg and a little milk to make a pan-fried omelette. Fool's 'em every time!)



cassoulet

(mmm! but rich -- note to self: limit portion size next time)



Simple Things: non-instant oatmeal ("Gerkules" to Russians) with fruit (dried or fresh) and brown sugar almost every morning; chicken and rice/arroz con pollo with homegrown windowsill basil; roast vegetable and Molinari's pepperoni and salami pizza


"Anya cookies" (see below for recipe)



Recipe for Anya cookies (with apologies to Joy of Cooking):

Cream 1/2 c. white sugar with 1/2 c. unsalted President butter.

Beat in 1 tsp. vanilla from your belated honeymoon to Tahiti;

2 Ussuriisk eggs;

2 1/2 c. sifted all-purpose flour;

2 tsp. double-acting baking powder, Clabber Girl, brought from home;

1/2 tsp. salt.

Chill 3-4 hours (or 3-4 days) before rolling.

Preheat oven to 375 degrees F.

Roll on a lightly floured cutting board. The play rolling mat from your old toy baking set will do just fine.

Use your only cookie cutter (heart-shaped), or look for something in your shape-sorter toy (especially suitable is the "A" shape for "Anya) to use as substitute cutter.

Place cookies on greased cookie sheet. You may decorate them with sugar, or sugar and cinnamon. Makes several days' worth of extra-small not-too-sweet cookies that little girls named Anya love very much.



The Most Unlikely Toys From Around the House:

A ribbon

Your winter hat with the ear flaps

Measuring spoons and cups, preferably in a combination of plastic and metal

Tupperware

Bibs



What We're Listening To:

"Jim Gill sings the Sneezing Song and other Contagious Tunes" (especially good for laughs: The Sneezing Song; Cf. What We're Saying. also fun, esp. when mom pantomimes: Silly Dance Contest)


Sun Kil Moon, "Tiny Cities" (songs from Modest Mouse in a very different mood)

Some Local and Far-Away Observations

You know you've been in Russia too long:


When you find yourself, on autopilot preparing the next batch of baby food, having put both oatmeal and cabbage soup on the kid's menu
(As the Russians say: "shchi i kasha - pishcha nasha," or "cabbage soup and porridge are our bread and butter.")


When you cross a rustic urban courtyard and notice only on your exit, not on your arrival into the space, that that fishy smell was actually the raw sewage in the open holes in the ground enclosed (in a generous reading of the situation) behind ratty wooden doors dangling from their hinges -- what suffices for public toilets for at least some of the people who work and live in the surrounding buildings

(Yeccch - it never ceases to amaze me the extent to which Russians are willing to put up with the most primitive toilet situations.)


When you steer clear of huge potholes that still lie beyond the rise in the road and haven't yet entered your line of vision, because you sense that you need to avoid the part of the road that's given you a nasty jostle before



What we're saying these days:

Daddy ("Dadji")

potty (with alternate pronunciations of "pah-tee" and "pah-dee," which inevitably spiral into "ab-dee" - "ab-bee" - "abbi" - "appi")

"Bay-do," "Bay-joe," "Bed-jah" (most likely Anya-ese for Edgar, the more appealing of our two cats)

Mommy (both the more American "Mah-mee" and "Mamie" (as in Eisenhower), and even sometimes "Mammy" (?))

"buh-buh-buh" (repeated in a staccato in response to the question "What does a doggie say?")

"Gah-ghee" (cf. buh-buh-buh; probably "doggie," but also possibly an experimental take on "Dadji")

"bit-bit-bit" (said sometimes in response to the question "What does a froggie say?"; missing the "rib" part of "ribbit")

"tiku-da-tiku-da-tiku-da" (mumbled quietly and rhythmically while padding about any given room in the house; we think this is like the equivalent of her walking around muttering "whe-ya-go-whe-ya-go-whe-ya-go": Marina probably says to her "ty kuda, Anya, ty kuda?", Russian for "Where ya goin', Anya?" when the kid is wandering around in circles, all business-like and focused)

"ka-pah-ka" (cf. tiku-da; sounds most like "Bye-bye" in Russian, and was indeed accompanied by Anya's version of a wave (closing and opening a folded hand at face level))




Impressions and memories of our Bangkok trip:


Anya surviving in large part on these sweet, miniature-sized Thai bananas that we bought in huge hands and kept (on hand) to feed a picky girl


The sliver-to-chunk of skyline visible above the woven plastic upward-extending shades on the side of the water taxi; locals pulled down on the attached bungee cords to lever the shades up and avoid a spritz of the canal water (probably a wise idea), but we were kind of marked as tourists on a primarily commuter line, preferring to just look out at the view


The amazingly vibrant street life, full of commercial activity, especially full of food and drink for sale; people walking all over the place drinking fruit juices and Thai iced coffee from plastic bags with handles -- apparently the local version of a to-go cup


Whizzing along downtown boulevards, and past a zillion images of the King, in a puttering little "tuk-tuk" motorbike taxi; Anya losing her pacifier off the side of one of them


Everybody and his cousin setting their banana-leaf floats on their way, bobbing in the canal below us, while we ate dinner at a combination streetside cafe and sports bar (note, toward the end of the video, the outdoor bigscreen TV showing UK football matches to a sometime cheering Thai crowd)


The fluttering and chanting at the very top of the Golden Mount

Shoe!

Ladies and Gentlemen, we have us a new word:


Shoe! (She's actually been saying this already for a few weeks, I admit, but she says it with a funny kind of intonation that had us laughingly repeating what sounded like half of "thank you" in Chinese: "xie-xie!") Earlier this week, though, despite the intonation, I noticed that it really was being used in situations that involved footwear -- presto, verbal communication!


What's additionally funny about this is that it actually seems like Marina, our nanny, taught her this word (which explains the funny accent). When I told her about it, she said, "oh, yeah, I talk about her felt boots [valenki] when we're getting dress to go outside, but I figure 'shuzy' [something like 'shoeses' across two languages] is closer to what you say." So the kid may end up with some interesting variations on English after our two years are up.


In other news, as you can see from the Flickr photos, we successfully traveled to Bangkok and back over Thanksgiving weekend, and we even managed to enjoy some of it. But it was definitely not easy with a 15-month-old: aside from the longish flights to get there, and the necessity of taking a red-eye back, which of course wasn't great for the adults, either, we had to confront the realization that there is some distance separating the ideal adult pace for touristing and the ideal toddler pace. And the fact that, when you are on vacation with a little kid, you're never really able to relax like you once could. I still need to take a little more time to digest all the other impressions from the trip before I print something here.


As for our updates:


What we're eating:

homemade deep-fried beer-battered scallops and squid

lemony fish and potato soup a la Bittman

ripped up pieces of grainy bread with butter (sometimes your morning oatmeal with baked apple just doesn't appeal)

homemade sourdough bread from our neighbor


What we're listening to:

a lot of Superchunk and Portastatic, for some reason (especially the newest, Be Still Please, and my favorites: "You Blanks" and "Song for a Clock" -- so much so that the unthinkable has happened, I am actually tired of this album; and Summer of the Shark/Autumn Was a Lark; and Indoor Living)

Strange Weirdos: Music From and Inspired By the Film 'Knocked Up' (you wouldn't necessarily expect something with that description to be good, but this is actually quite enjoyable music from Loudon Wainwright III -- better by far than the movie itself), liking especially "Grey in LA" and "Daughter"


What we're watching:

Prison Break, season 1 (purchased on Sukhumvit Rd., Bangkok, for about $20 [and don't tell us what happens!])

can't get away from that Beauty and the Geek


What we're saying:

baby ("bay-bee")

lyalya (Russian for baby; often said with a violent verbal tendency that has not yet been explained)

Anya ("Aaaaing")

hi ("ai!")

shoe ("shiew!")

not to mention of course, Appi, mama, papa, baba, gaga (?), and lots of babble

Mid-November Update

What we're watching:

(and listening to...) Springsteen's 2001 MSG concert DVD

(and squirming, and hiding, and finally unable to finish...) Borat

30 Rock

(and feeling some guilt...) Beauty and the Geek (hey, it follows 30 Rock on our satellite TV)



What we're listening to:

Dylan's greatest hits, vol. 2, disc 2

REM's Murmur and Out of Time

Modest Mouse's We Were Dead Before the Ship Even Sank



What we're reading:

Intoasia.com's guide to Bangkok

Lonely Planet Seoul (thanks to my mom for leaving it here)

The Beer Lover's Rating Guide (the smallest people have the most unexpected reading tastes...)



What we're eating:

Cheese grits squares

Squashed pinto beans and pasta shells

More leftover improvised Mexican pork stew



Where we have the potential to view cats this weekend:

At home

At the Vladivostok cat show

At the visiting circus show "Lynxes and Wild Boars"

Turning the November Leaves

We're back to regular old fall, after the snowmelt.



Last weekend we had a really great visit with our old friend Laura, from Berkeley grad school days, which included a little bit of exploring on the nearby peninsula "de Fries." This spit of land is a relatively prominent feature of the local map, but for whatever reason we hadn't driven there before. We were inspired in part by a meeting with a Washington State University historian who studies the cosmopolitan late nineteenth century Victorian world of Vladivostok, especially through the lens of letters written by a New Englander, Mrs. Eleonor Pray, who lived here with her family from 1894 until 1930. The Prays and the Smiths and apparently many other foreign traders and merchants in the city took their holidays on de Fries at a large complex that burned down in the early twentieth century. Our visit to the peninsula didn't really have a lot to do with the history, except that hearing about these old foreign families and seeing some old photographs led us to drive out there.



Now we're heading into a few weeks of work before heading to Thailand for Thansksgiving weekend! Hooray -- the vacation we have been waiting months for! We're meeting a friend from early DC days who is now stationed in Calcutta. Staying in Bangkok at the hotel this friend is fond of, and making at least one day trip to the beach. And hoping that all will go well with baby travel!



I'm going to try again to write more briefly and more often here -- we'll see how well I do. Maybe a little list of current likes and distractions will help in that...



what we're listening to

the latest Bruce, Magic

Tchaikovsky's The Nutcracker Suite (featuring fun cannon shots in our Deutsche Grammaphone version)

a homemade mix Dilon Djindji's mellow Afropop, c/o Sir Landau (some may recall that this featured as the recessional music at our wedding...)



what we're munching on (you guess which describes the big people's menu and which describes the small person's...)

a yummy Mexican chipotle pork and potatoes stew

dried cherry scones (although beware of Bittman's recipe in How to Cook Everything; we are still in search of a better one)

well-cooked pasta shells with mushed kidney beans and melted cheese

stiff mashed potatoes with bits of ham

bite-sized broccoli

Lazy, Hazy (Foggy) Days of Summer

"Hey," you say, "where did those Vladibloggers go?" What have we been up to the whole month of July?

Well, of course, that first week included the "highlight of the Vladivostok social season" -- the American Fourth of July party that evidently every year in recent times has been held on board a visiting naval ship. In general this July, until this past Saturday, has been especially foggy and rainy -- even the locals have been complaining. But we did have 2 bright, sunny spots bookending our July calendar. The first was the Tuesday afternoon of July 3rd, when our July Fourth party was held, and the second was this past Saturday, when the other big, foreign-flavored local summer event, Canada Day, was held. (Where, you ask? Why, at the Vlad Motor Inn, of course -- it is known to some as "the Canadian restaurant," and the road sign that reminds you to turn in from the main highway is in the shape of a big maple leaf...)

Canada Day was an entire day's worth of barbecuing, games, races, contests, some more food, a handful of local bands, some more games and MCing, some more food, and then a huge several-meter by several-meter cake. And apparently fireworks to cap it all off, but we didn't stay that long.

What else? We have seen the departure of the Consul General who was serving here when we arrived and the arrival of a new CG to replace him. It has been fun showing the new consul and his wife around a bit, now that we are very fast becoming the Old Guard around here among the Americans. Our sponsors and models in raising small children in Vlad, the family who arrived here originally when their second son was just 7 weeks old, are leaving in the first week of August. Our consular officer friend is leaving in late August or early September. That will leave 3 American employees and their familes, all of whom arrived in September or October last year, and we really will be among the longest serving at this post, which is kind of crazy to realize.

I have turned in my application to do halftime work as the "CLO" -- Community Liaison Office -- coordinator, one of the jobs at diplomatic posts that are reserved for "eligible family members." No other eligible family members here or planning to get here soon were vying for it, so it sounds like it is mine for the taking. Since I enjoy exploring and getting to know places, and that still describes the ongoing process of living here in Vlad, I figure it will basically mean getting paid to do that (plus a few other administrative tasks that hopefully won't be too annoying). Already in meeting or anticipating the new people here in our very small diplomatic circle and what our next year could be like, I think I'll enjoy having the capacity to organize some things and hopefully raise morale a bit.

OK, here is what many of you have been waiting for... The Anya Report.

The Munchkin is even more intent on walking than ever before, demanding two hands from the nearest parent to help her get around. One hand just will not do (apparently even if you can manage with one, the trouble is, you can't walk as fast or as easily that way, so there is some amount of whining in order to get that second hand...). She's much better able to put the stacking-type toys together -- the ring toss that she took apart on one of the videos, and the stacking cups that came care of (Great) Aunt Nancy and (G) Uncle Jerry. She's also getting pretty good at the shape-sorter (not shape-shifter) toy that she has, putting many of the shapes in the right holes (or at least guessing pretty well as to where they go. Maybe like other small monkeys she will soon complete a line of Shakespeare). She is very interested in steps and stairs right now (much to our chagrin, but I guess we're trying to be safe while going with the flow of the growing child); a lot of the time spent on her feet is also spent going up steps. And just in the last few days that has come to include not just stepping up one, pausing, then stepping up with that same foot and pausing again; but stepping up just like big people usually do -- one foot following immediately after the other, just striding right up those steps in a (relatively) fluid motion.

Foodwise, Anya's eating more chunky pieces of well-cooked food, including tiny broccoli "trees" and little chunks of potato and grated baked beets. Our longed-for Cheerios arrived in the mail, and we have been exploring those, picking them up, looking at them, watching Mom demonstrate how they can be tucked into the mouth and chewed enthusiastically -- but for the first few days not putting them into our own mouths... I could put them in there for her, but for whatever reason she was not figuring out that she could do that too. As of yesterday, however, we are very eager to try to get them in our own mouths ourselves -- not always coordinated enough to get them in, but very enthusiastic all the same.

It's pretty unbelievable that it's just one more month until she hits the one-year mark!

Now that summer is in full swing, we have all been enjoying plums and peaches -- the smaller person in cooked form -- and the big people have enjoyed a variety of fresh berries. Despite the weather, we've been down to the beach at Shamora (east coast of the southern Primorye peninsula) a couple of times, and enjoyed grilled meat and salads there. I have been out a few more times with my internet-mama friends, including a foray this past Friday into the local nightclub scene, for a little dancing and relaxation, at a place near the waterfront called "Yellow Submarine." And we just met a diplomatic family from the Japanese consulate with two small daughters, with whom I think we'll have a chance to spend time again. It is a lot of fun to have a handful of people to socialize with, and a nice change from the first several months here. I think we feel like we are socking away social contacts in anticipation for the long winter... Luckily I think our store will have good depth and we'll probably have a very different second year in Vlad.

Junebug

OK, since it looks like I'm averaging a sad two and three-quarters posts per month, I should update you on the second half of May before delving into the first few days of June.

If you have looked at our photos or our videos recently, you know that we enjoyed a wet ride somewhere southwest of Vlad a short while ago. The irony was, Dan went back to a location about 150 meters north of where we forded that river/road three days later, to visit a nature preserve where some of the severely endangered Amur leopards live. (There is an interesting Voice of America piece whose second half is devoted to the leopards here and a World Wildlife Fund report on the recent incident that inspired Dan's trip here.)

There wasn't a whole lot more to report from late last month, other than another trip to the waterfront here in town for shashlyk and beer. Fortunately we were able to enjoy it some, despite the fact that this followed a very stressful departure from home, leaving Anya with a babysitter. We've moved her bedtime later, but we still don't have a regular babysitter who she's used to and who can come and play with her and put her to bed with a minimum of fuss. Last Thursday was the first of our attempts to do this (i.e. have someone come before she was already asleep), and hopefully it will only get better. (Well, seeing how upset Anya -- and subsequently I -- was that evening, I don't really see how it could realistically get worse.)

So, how is our June shaping up?

Well...., on Saturday we went to the mall. I guess we are about at that point in our stay here in Russia where we actually don't feel bad about doing that for an afternoon. Meaning, heck, we have no shame, why not spend an afternoon doing something wholly American in Vladivostok, as much as that can be recreated here? We found a store, "Oggi," that wasn't too expensive, selling women's clothing that was a good combination of fun and feminine and stylish, without being either garish, too expensive, or too cheaply made. I bought a couple of things.

We used our fold-up "umbrella" stroller that my mom got us in early February for what I am slightly sheepish to admit is the first real time on an outing beyond the area surrounding our house. Vlad is just not made for strollers (you'll see this when you visit, Mom), but I knew that the shopping center we were headed to had escalators, which makes it one of the few places in Vlad where a stroller is practical. Also, Anya is still growing into the stroller, and she's still a little small for it now. She's still a little slumpy no matter how you position her in the seat. But using it yesterday reminded me how nice and light it is, and how easily it folds up, so now I think we'll use it more when we go down to the waterfront and other specific destinations where you know there'll be level ground or not a great amount of stairs to climb.

We had a disappointing dinner out at Syndicate, the local steakhouse modeled on a (Russian interpretation of an) Al Capone, gangster theme that I described in an earlier post. We went there Saturday night with colleague out from Moscow on a short-term visit.

The prices had all gone up not insignificantly, including the sorry $10 per draught beer -- just too much. Entrees and everything had risen, too. I had an overpriced entree and a bottled Stella Artois; Dan and Cathy had burgers, and Dan splurged for a salad and a draught dark Leffe. Burger was very disappointing -- hard, dry, surrounded and overwhelmed by the fixings, too greasy to effectively eat without it spurting out from the bun and its sauces and trappings. Stellas weren't bad. My meal took forever to come; Dan and Cathy had finished their meals before mine arrived. The live music wasn't bad -- a jazz guitar trio. Too loud when we first got there, but we got used to it.

After the meal we headed for the waterfront, to drink another cheaper beer in a downmarket setting. Unfortunately we didn't know the place kind of closes down at 10:30. The shashlyk and beer places on the part of the waterfront that juts out into the harbor were nearly empty, and it was just as well, since the fog was coming in and it was getting chilly. (One of the only ways in which Vlad really is like San Francisco is the microclimate thing, and the way you need to always remember a jacket or sweater when you go out in on a warm evening, since it is guaranteed to cool down quite a bit.)

On Sunday, another great midday eating and walking around outside out at the Canadian brunch place and a walk in the sun, followed by the very sour disappointment of having bought the wrong Zodiac. After careful research by Dan on some films that got relatively high marks on the Tomatometer, including the recently-released "Zodiac," we bought a DVD of the less recent, shockingly low-rated "The Zodiac." (The lack of definite articles in Russian of course aided our mistake....) Also, the version of "Black Orchid" that we bought was of such poor production value (ahem, I realize I ask a lot, given the provenance of the disks) that we couldn't hear the undubbed English. (The movie looked terrible anyway, but, trust me, the muffled sound didn't help matters.)

Well, generally a couple of up and down days recently, but capped by an interesting evening last night among local and visiting historians. I'll presumably have more from the upcoming days of the conference they were gathered for, so stay tuned.

Back to the Blog

"Last post on April 7" -- ack! That smarts!
I have left this blog thing for way too long without any additions. I guess my only explanation is that, with the spring weather, we've just had much more opportunity to get out, and there hasn't seemed to be any time to write an update. But I'll try to get back to basics and add short posts more frequently after this one.

For now, here is a digest of the news collected over the past month:

China
As our photos on Flickr help to show, we made a successful trip to China with colleagues from Vlad's diplomatic community in the first half of April. It was really a fascinating visit, moreso than either Dan or I (and probably Anya) ever expected. I guess neither of the two of us adults ever really took a special interest in China, and so perhaps we didn't know what to expect. And perhaps it was particularly interesting to take the trip from Russia, with all the comparisons and juxtapositions in the forefront of our minds. Whatever it was, we both really felt extremely curious to know more about the place, the culture, etc., and it felt like a refreshingly new environment, after our time in Russia, which of course is just the latest in a long history of traveling to the former Soviet Union and Eastern bloc for both of us.

Two impressions of China:
(a) Chinese people really do have a remarkable love of babies. The first time we got out of the bus on a city street in the town of Hunchun, we could barely walk around, because at every step someone -- interestingly, both women and men -- remarked at Anya, approached us, talked to us, spoke to Anya in an animated way, squealed with delight, touched Anya's cheeks, etc. I guess I can see how that would get old (we know one diplomatic family with kids who were in Beijing, and the kids started just slapping away the loving hands after a while!), but it was quite interesting, and marked for us on our short visit. It was definitely not the same response a baby inspires in Europe or America.

(Well, I'm sure the people in the rooms closest to ours in the hotel in Yanji were not professing a love of babies, especially on the second night. Somehow this part has faded in my memory, despite the fact that Anya's crying kept us up almost all night that second night. And I think both Dan and I would agree that the trip was worth it overall, although we were cursing the idea all through that terrible night. I'm not sure what the answer is for future trips -- always shelling out for a suite, with separate room for Anya to sleep in? I'm not sure whether it was tough for her to sleep with us right there in the room, or whether the problem was the unfamiliar place and noises...)

And (b) even in smaller (by Chinese standards) provincial cities, that sense of wide open boulevards and impressive -- perhaps even oppressive -- public space that I must have gotten from pictures of Beijing, was also confirmed. Public spaces were also remarkably quite clean and tidy. This probably interests us more because we were visiting from Russia: most Russians who heard we were going warned us to be careful, especially taking a baby, that "China is dirty." (This from people whose own city can kind of look like a garbage dump in places, of course. Some people from here are able to see that and feel badly about, but I guess enough do not recognize it.)

OK, probably not the most interesting observations to you, but that was what impressed us.

Also the trip was a fun chance to meet local folks, actually more local officials and honorary consuls of foreign countries who were Russian rather than other foreigners.

Getting Out

We've really been enjoying the chance to get out more here in Vlad, with the weather so much better. We've enjoyed the great outdoors at some spots outside of town, and we've tried several new restaurants and eateries in town. As you'll see from our recent photos, Anya is getting really tan from all of her time spent outdoors with us and with her nanny, Marina.

The weekend before May Day was gorgeous, and that Sunday it got into the mid-80s F -- actually quite hot! We started out with brunch at the crazy little Canadian hotel and restaurant outside of town that is our guilty pleasure, and we followed our meal with a stroll in the park near the water that I described in an earlier post (when we went for a winter walk there, with the ice skaters and the ice fishers and strollers out on the ice). It was such a lovely day -- the brunch place had tables out on the patio for the first time this season, and the park was great, everyone out with their picnics, obligatory 100 grams of vodka, etc., and even some brave sunbathers. By mid-afternoon we ended up at a colleague's dacha for barbecued pork and other goodies, which was also lots of fun. Anya had a great time just playing with the grass in the yard, the first time she experienced this green stuff.

In town, our spring outings pretty much began with the Indian Weekend -- 5 Indian navy ships visited Vlad for joint exercises with the Russian Pacific Navy Fleet, and there were several events in honor of this first visit of its kind. We took Anya to a presentation of Indian dance at the city theater, which she actually seemed to like. Probably the interesting shiny costumes and movement caught and held her attention. Dan and I got to attend a reception at a new Indian restaurant in town, which was fun and held great potential for future dining. (We also cooked our first Indian meal at home, but that belongs in a different section. See below.)

Since then we've also tried out a surprisingly successful local brew-pub type of place and a pretty good seafood restaurant whose interior was very pleasant. The funny thing about the latter is that it is almost the only real thing to go to that is within walking distance of our house (except the grocery store and little shopping center that we often go to, and have gone to from the time we first arrived, when we went everywhere on foot). For some reason we just hadn't made an effort to try the restaurant -- probably for fear that it would be overpriced and bad. But after Dan and a colleague stopped by and ran into a local official whom we met on our China trip and heard his high reviews of the place, we decided to try it. We were very happy with our meal -- an octopus appetizer, a mussel salad, a salmon steak entree, and a curry seafood dinner plate.

All of this exploring is aided by the fact that we put out a call for more babysitters, and we've tried two new ones in the past week. It helps to have a handful of names of interested and reliable people, since up to now we have really just had one woman to call upon for evenings.

Staying In

Since the kid does require us (or a proxy) to be here while she snoozes all night, we've also been trying to liven up evenings when we're stuck at home:

• We officially rang in the start of the 'cuing season with some mixed grill for dinner guests one Saturday and two delicious burger nights for me and Dan.
• On a warm evening while Melissa was visiting in mid-April we invented a new cocktail: the "Rumdowner." Dark rum, Grenadine, a dash of bitters, and peach juice, shaken over ice. Mmmmm... it has become a drink of choice to take out on the balcony on a light spring evening.
• As I mentioned above, after finding some key ingredients we finally made our signature Indian dishes -- dry spice-encrusted lamb, and bhagan bharta (eggplant puree). That took a trip to the meat market and getting over the weird fear that I still have about the open food markets. It is some combination of not wanting to get ripped off, not wanting to get sick from meat that is butchered or kept in the open market, and just generally not liking the attention that always gets thrown your way as a potential customer (and probably an obviously foreign one) in the markets. Dan forced me to go and participate in a purchase of lamb, which did help me, and now I try to go regularly to get our produce at this one market. Also the lamb dish requires curry leaves, which we found for sale in a freeze-dried form at the local Hari Krishna vegetarian restaurant. (!) The dishes themselves turned out great, even if the "lamb" was a little more toward mutton and next time could use a bit more stewing time. Now we need to branch out more within Madhur Jaffrey's repertoire and make some new dishes.

Tentative Spring

It’s been a while -- first the major snowstorm ground things here to a halt, and then a strange bug laid me low (along with a bunch of the other Americans who live in our complex). We never figured out the source of the illness, but for me it was not fun. Seems like maybe it hit the mothers of young kids (and the one breastfeeding mother -- me) among us harder than others.

Now, with temperatures above freezing for the past several days, the snow and ice that snarled our local traffic is finally melting, and I am finally better. Hooray!

What is the news?

Let’s start with a little Anya Report:

The thing that busies the Little Person more than any one other activity is now standing (with the help of someone’s patient fingers for support, naturally). She is very good at communicating when she wants to stand up, and can be quite insistent about it. (There is video evidence of all of this posted on YouTube.)

We recently got a fun new high chair, which is a good addition, since eating various fruits and vegetables has become a much more regular event in L.P.’s daily life. (We’d been making more and more of a mess reclining in our baby rocker, which really wasn’t made for eating.) It’s also a fun to have Anya sitting higher up and safe in the kitchen while we’re cooking or cleaning in there, and when I’m here with her alone it allows me to scramble upstairs or down for a minute to get something without taking A. with me.

What is on the menu these days? Well, carrots and zucchini are well liked, especially when mixed with rice cereal. Apples, peaches, plums, prunes (those come in handy for reasons related to baby-plumbing every now and then), and -- oh my -- bananas are also well received. Peas were not a big hit but I may try again. Green beans are touch and go. And unfortunately those sweet potatoes we had in the US just don’t seem to be readily available on the Russian market, although the chef will keep trying.

Also a big hit with the Person of Diminutive Stature is dancing. Again, this is accomplished with certain Baby-Related Adjustments, so that the one who is really dancing is of course me, and Anya is content to bounce and squeal and laugh from her perch on my hip, held in my arms. In the search for fun sounds to listen to, our aural palette has taken a decidedly World Music turn: the Cajun group Beausoleil is perhaps Anya’s favorite, but Cuban son and the Malian duo Amadou and Mariam follow close behind. Select American jazz and blues artists, and of course good old indie rock, can also inspire a good squeak or two.

Two things that now more than ever before occupy Anya’s awareness, and cause her much amusement, are (a) the cats, and (b) mirrors. She seems to be at an age where she recognizes something more about these things than she used to -- that the cats are interesting furry blobs that move on their own (maybe even some understanding that they are alive, like her?), and that what she sees in the mirror bears some relation to herself (possibly approaching an understanding that this is her reflection?). Whatever goes on inside that baby head of hers, both of these things not only capture her attention, but more often than not they inspire giggles, smiles, and something in the overlapping category of snort-gasp-laugh.

.....

In other areas of life there are also interesting developments. I’ve begun teaching two English composition classes a week at the local international school (with just one student in each class, so no big groups of unruly teenagers or anything like that to wear me out, thankfully). Actually, this is the international division within a local boarding school for gifted students, which takes students in from all over Primorye region. The international division is quite new, having only opened this past fall, in an attempt to replace the Quality Schools International franchise that had served the education needs of the kids of international diplomats and business people in Vlad. QSI apparently closed up shop when there were just not enough kids to pay for the school. (QSI is a non-profit organization that runs international schools in Asia and Eastern/Southern Europe and often serves diplomatic communities.)

I teach the two international baccalaureate students at the school, one a Korean boy whose father is a local corporate representative, and one a Russian boy from Vladivostok. They each speak and read English surprisingly well, at least to me; although the school suggested I use an American 9th grade composition textbook, I was skeptical about whether I could really pursue the class in the same way you would for native speakers of English. But after two weekly meetings it looks like our approach will not be terribly slowed down from the suggested pace for American kids. And despite the fact that things are inevitably framed in a more elementary way in a school textbook, I think this is going to help me think more consciously about my own writing than I have for a long time, which is a welcome side benefit.

That is probably enough to read at this juncture, but I will try to report on the trip to Nakhodka that we took last weekend before it fades too far into the depths of memory. In the meantime, please check out the photos on Flickr!

Vlad Eats

I've been thinking of writing something about the food we're eating over here, and this weekend provided one interesting thing to say about that. We tried a recently opened restaurant called "Syndicate," a 1920s-, Al Capone-, Prohibition-themed steakhouse. I know, sounds cheesy. The logo here also would indicate that this is a place to be avoided. But, remember, we are in Vladivostok. We have limited options. So we went.

Be advised that the restaurants here in Vlad -- well, for that matter, most foods and manufactured products -- are actually no cheaper than in the US, and in many cases much more expensive.
A while back we poked our heads into a sushi place in downtown Vlad that people say is good, and were shocked to see that a small dinner of a few rolls, which probably wouldn't even fill us up, could easily cost over $100. The expense is not surprising in a place like shiny, world-famous Moscow, but that bite out of your wallet hurts a little more in a place like Vlad.

So we knew that Syndicate might be a little pricey. And we expected cheesy. But we went, together with a colleague and his girlfriend, and it was actually a quite a positive surprise! Dan in particular was raving about the place for hours after we went. It was not really overly expensive, considering that it's steak we're talking about. And the steak was surprisingly good -- cooked to just the level of done-ness that Dan wanted, pretty much medium-rare, and very juicy and flavorful. They evidently import their meat from Australia.

The interior was actually very comfortable and pretty -- lots of dark wood and brass, comfortable booths. The quiet recorded jazz playing when we first sat down was a welcome change from the booming dance music that is usually playing in places you go in Russia, and even the live music (played by two guys who probably unwittingly fit the contemporary visual stereotype of a Russian gangster very well -- a little scary), a violin and guitar, with the inevitable drum machine in the background, wasn't terrible.

One of our friends and I had burgers, which were not a total success (kind of just cooked, but not exactly tastily grilled -- probably also suffering from having been pre-formed patties, and also overwhelmed by all the other stuff that the "superburger" was dressed with). I think I'd get a steak next time. And as for the 'taters, as our friend said, "they have fry issues." Undercooked issues, to be precise. Our other friend had the seafood soup called "The Hudson is Resting" -- if anyone understands that joke, please let me know, because our Russian friend laughed right away, but I wonder whether her interpretation is what an American would also assume was meant. Anyway, she thought the soup was very tasty. And, for Russia, the service was actually bordering on friendly. That was another reason we are thinking this may just turn out to be a regular place on our circuit.

Oh, and I almost forgot: dark Leffe beer on tap! As well as Hoegaarden and (according to the menu) Stella "Artua."

In other food news, Anya is taking to solid eats, as our Flickr pictures and YouTube videos recently showed. She is almost bored with rice cereal and has shown enthusiasm for applesauce and pureed pears. Next we are deciding between peas and plums. Both are waiting in our freezer, dolloped into little servings in an ice cube tray especially reserved for this purpose.

And we continue to prepare a range of food at home that is not half bad: homemade Mexican -- with refried beans from scratch -- is helped greatly by the tortillas we make at home, and by the Armenian lavash flatbread we use when we are lazy; Georgian stews have turned out well thanks to our adoptive Georgian mom's spice reserves and recipes; chili has turned out well in the slow cooker, and skillet cornbread was just as successful as at home; and we have even added a new pizza to our repertoire: thanks to our neighbor's deepdish pan that was the only form available before our household shipment arrived, we now make a pie that -- blasphemy, I know -- rivals SF Bay Area Zachary's!

P.S. I can already tell that this article is being read and forwarded by many back in the US, but I'll get on that bandwagon myself and say that the recent "Unhappy Meals" piece in the NYT Magazine has had me thinking even more critically about food lately. Although I have to say, the reason I am so in love with the article, and Michael Pollan's other recent writings, and itching to read his book, is that this just echoes so closely what I've been thinking about food and eating for a while already, independently of what Pollan or others are writing (despite my admiration of a good steak...).

A Good Day

Things will undoubtedly get frigid here very soon. Sure, for all of our glibness before coming out here, Vladivostok is NOT actually in Siberia (it’s in Primorye, or the Maritime Province). And sure, it’s actually almost (not quite) the most southerly Russian city, with a latitude comparable to that of Boston, MA (OK, not the warmest city in the U.S., but not Moose Freezer, Canada, either – and anyway, well to the south of Paris, France). And ask any Russian, and he’ll describe Vladivostok as a swarthy southern port city; don’t be surprised if he conjures up palm trees.

But despite all this we know the freeze will come. For the fact is, Vladivostok’s winter mean temperature is lower than that of Moscow and St. Petersburg (although not a single Russian we’ve spoken to actually believes this). Streets are apparently closed down here in winter because driving is too treacherous. The port freezes over (although plying icebreakers will still presumably deliver our mother lode – exploded or not – of salsa come mid-December).

So, the freeze is coming.

Fortunately, however, that day wasn’t today.

Today was a beautiful fall day, by anyone’s standards. Even as I write this, at 6pm, I am in my shortsleeves, on our fourth floor balcony, drinking wine (courtesy of Korean Air business class – yes, goddamnit, I saved it), and watching the sun descend slowly over Golden Horn Bay.

Really the good day started yesterday, with our exploration of the “Pervorechenenskiy Rynok” – the market in the neighboring part of town. This was great for me because I discovered that Primorye is in fact full of seafood. This would of course appear to be self-evident: it is the “Maritime Province,” after all, and home to a sizable fishing industry. Yet some of the people we’d spoken to before coming out here had said that the local seafood offerings were surprisingly meager, perhaps because most of the fishing is for export.

Nevertheless, there was a pleasing array of seafood laid out in the market: fist-sized local scallops, large chunks of conch, all kinds of shrimp, and a number of seagoing fish, including salmon, halibut, and tuna. There was more exotic fare as well: sea urchin eggs; a strange crayfish-like crustacean called medvedka, or “little bear,” in Russian; and a surprisingly diverse collection of seaweed. What is most interesting to me is that all of this food, which I associate with Asian cuisine, was being sold by and to Russians. An indication that Russia is a bit more culturally diverse, perhaps, than it is given credit for. So I bought a kilo of scallops and 250 grams of conch, which I will sauté in butter, lemon, pepper, and chives as soon as I’m done writing this.

Although yesterday was a bit overcast, we woke up this morning to a bright, clear day, and realized we had to go exploring. After getting the munchkin weatherproofed in her oversized baby snowsuit and hitching her to Lisa in the Snuggli, we set off down the Goat Path toward Svetlanskaya street, the main thoroughfare leading into the center of town. Since we’ve arrived here we’ve been a little confused about local transport: how much should taxis cost? Which buses go where? Are we allowed to use embassy motorpool? (That last question alone could be the subject of its very own blog.) But I’m happy to report that catching buses into and out of town was both easy and cheap – 4 stops and 8 rubles (30 cents).

After descending in the center we briefly explored what appears to be a new, toney shopping center in the middle of town, with seven floors of high-priced European fashion and a sushi bar on the top floor. Something to think about in the future.

We then walked along the pedestrian street (Ulitsa Fokina) to the ocean, where there is a sort of boardwalk, where people were strolling. With lunchtime approaching, we very quickly followed our noses to a series of open-air grills, where we bought two plates of shashlyk, or grilled pork. We are pleased to report that it was so nice, we had it twice. And a couple of Bochkaryev beers to wash it down. For her part, Anya mercifully slept in her Snugli.

After strolling some more along the boardwalk (and taking note of a sad “dolfinarium,” which we opted not to explore), we set off back into town. I was pleased to find several purveyors of compact disks (today’s purchase: Modest Mouse’s complete oeuvre on MP3, along with two recent albums by my favorite Russian singer, Garik Sukachev ).

By this time, the munchkin, whom I was now carrying, was starting to stir, and so we found a café that my colleague at the consulate had recommended, “Presto,” so that Anya could feed and we could have some coffee. An oasis in central Vlad: we had excellent cappuccinos, taking note for future reference of the broad array of food and drink (mojitos!?) options. I even managed to change Anya on a windowsill without every Russian in the place giving me the skunk-eye.

(A brief aside: I’m pretty sure I’m the only guy in town who walks into town with his kid in a Snugli. In fact, until I saw a woman with her kid in a similar contraption yesterday, I would have said Lisa was the only woman to do same as well. Russians tend to stare: not disdainfully, but openly. The same way they stare at our clothes, or Lisa’s boots [see previous posts from St. Petersburg]. For my part, I’ve taken to winking at people when they stare.)

Following coffee, we explored the attractive art deco train station, with its announcements of trains headed to Moscow, six and a half days away.

After another hour of walking around, we caught a bus home – or rather to the foot of the Goat Path. 15 minutes of walking straight up we made it to our door.

All in all, a great day. Now it’s time for dinner.

[Post-Script, later that evening, and subsequent evenings: The munchkin paid us back for the fine day by crying her baby eyes out for much of the evening. What's going on, we asked ourselves? 5 hours of crying? We are hoping this is just, as they say, a phase...]