Ugh -- I have been feeling terrible for the lengthy bout of "radio silence" here on the Vladiblog. And the longer it gets, the more I feel behind, the more stuff there is to report on, and it just snowballs and I feel like I'll never do it all justice. Clearly it would be better to just take the heat off of myself and dash off a few little updates, but that just doesn't appear to be my style, try as I might.
I'm not sure why it's been so hard for me to write any updates in the blog for so long. Partly it's that I've been really busy, which has mainly been a good thing.
I took two research trips in the months of June and July to the other major city in the Russian Far East (yes, there are others aside from ours), Khabarovsk. I've been a big fan of this city since my first visit there with Anya and Dan in fall 2007. It makes a nice escape from Vlad -- green; broad straight avenues to stroll on; clean, well cared for, etc. I went to collect some material in the archives for my history of tick-borne encephalitis in the RFE. My June journey was the first time away from Anya alone, and both of the trips were hard to take in the direct sense of having to leave her, and in having to arrange for Dan and Marina, her nanny, to pick up the slack on things that I normally do for her. But in the end, of course, she barely missed me, if at all (and as Dan's July post shows, they made a great dad-daughter connection without me here, which is really nice to see).
The trips were great from a research perspective. I gathered so much more material than I ever would have been able to in a comparable amount of time in Vlad, given the way the archives here work. And they also amounted to a really positive experience in allowing me to feel a professional confidence that I still find hard to fully grasp here at home, where I'm fulltime juggling being a mom, being the primary (if only by a hair) person responsible for keeping the domestic front running smoothly (which has its own difficulties in Russia), and being a historian. And from a personal point of view it was good to get away, have a little alone time strolling around the town, and enjoy Khabarovsk a couple of more times before we leave.
In general, I feel really good right now about my project -- I feel I've exhausted most of the avenues I was trying to research, gotten as much as I can in a place I'll likely not return to, and I've basically shifted completely to writing and getting two overlapping papers ready to present this fall.
Also, by way of explanations of what's been keeping me busy while I've ignored the blog: it's been summer, of course, so there's been much more opportunity to spend time outdoors (although that doesn't completely hold up as an excuse, since there have also been a number of the typhoons that regularly hit Vlad in summer, so we've been stuck inside on plenty of days while the blog has run dry). And then we took a quick trip to Beijing -- you know, we figured, why not hit it right at the height of the summer heat-humidity-pollution index, and just ahead of the Olympics? (Actually, although the weather was indeed amazingly energy-sapping, it was great. Have to sum it up in some other post, or maybe in the Flickr captions...)
And now here we are back in Vlad, for just 3 short weeks, as we try to wrap this puppy up: get our stuff given away, dumped in the trash, packed up & shipped off, or left on the stoop with some extra food for the next few months (OK, that last one is only likely for 2 of our possessions: the cats), with as few regrets as possible for the way we pursued and for the most part did not find happiness in this town. (I guess that's my way of expressing what else "partly" explains my silence, in addition to being busy: the anxiety level rises as we get closer to departure day, and that has to do not only with the logistics of moving but of course with all that is being left behind and left undone or unaccomplished or insufficiently enjoyed. While overall both Dan and I are glad to be moving on, that doesn't mean there aren't some things we're sorry to leave and people we're sorry we didn't spend more time with while we had the chance. And that bittersweet feeling, and the anxious ways that each of us tries to avoid it, don't make it easy to update the blog.)
As of August 22, it's back to the US for some time with family and friends, until early October, when we fly to Dushanbe. I'll try to practice brief update skills as we leave, but I can't make any promises. In the meantime, the ballot box is open for blog names/concise 'n' snappy URLs for the next incarnation of the Vladiblog...
Showing posts with label weather. Show all posts
Showing posts with label weather. Show all posts
Sunday, August 03, 2008
Monday, May 12, 2008
In Bloom
Often the irony of life in Vladivostok has meant that for one reason or another I haven't really been able to describe life here very well to those who'd like to hear about it. One reason comes at times when nothing much is going on, and the general mood has been a bit melancholy, and therefore there really isn't much inspiration to write either e-mails or blog entries about news here. The other reason is at play when there's a lot going on, when the mood picks up, but when there's just so little time to write something about the developments and news. We've gone from a winter of a lot of the former to a spring with already a bunch of the latter, so I feel I need to force myself again to at least try to write entries to the blog a bit more often and make them a bit shorter, just so I can get the news out the door. It feels like I've been jotting down ideas of what I want to report throughout the past month since the previous entry, only to lack the time to really edit it well, and then I watch as things change yet again, and the news of the day or the week shifts. I need to catch things more often and offer them up so that you can see them!
Play
The Pink Elephant is no more. Sometimes it seems like all the good things in Vlad just end or disappear right after you've found them and have started to get used to them being a joyful part of your life. I was pretty bummed about the closure right after I became aware of it, just before May Day. But then I decided we should just get right back up on the horse again and check on another local Montessori center I'd heard about for the under-3 set. Who knows, I told myself, maybe this one will actually be better than the P.E.! Then, in the couple of weeks after the Pink Elephant breathed its last, life of course sort of oozed into the cracks where that activity had been fitting, and after one frustrating unsuccessful phone call to get the basic info on "Vershina" ("Summit" -- a decidedly less interesting name...), it took me a little while to make another attempt to get us signed up and try it. An update on the new place will follow in the next post.
We did exchange phone numbers with the class leader from the Pink E. with whom we clicked the best, though -- Vika. Well, since we encountered three different leaders there in our 3 months of going, all of whom were named Vika, that isn't very precise. But we know which one we mean, and we are planning to meet her tomorrow for our first attempt at the children's performances that are given at the Regional Philharmonic. Tomorrow will be "The Ugly Duckling." I told you, there is so much going on, I need to set myself to writing a little shorter posts a little more often to really report it all on time -- so news of performances will have to go in the next entry, too.
Drive
OK, I admit that I was kind of a whiner about the car. It probably sounded like I was a spoiled brat who couldn't bear to take public transportation (except that, for those of you who have seen our location, really, it is not the easiest place to move around from without a car, am I right?). It was mainly the shopping (getting there and back AND lugging groceries or other purchases, e.g. big bags of diapers) that I did not relish having to do on buses. But, to be honest, I've actually had fun this past month viewing the city from a new perspective, taking the bus and marshrutka (minivan fixed-route taxi) to get around when it's just me and my work. And what has undoubtedly allowed me to have that fun was our decision to go ahead and use the car a limited amount, for grocery shopping and going places with Anya, just to try to stay off of it, like a bad ankle, as much as we can. Well, that, and the fact that it really is finally spring.
For some of the places I need to be for my research and writing, the bus can actually be a better way to get around. Right now I'm working at the state archive down next to the railroad station, and sometimes at the regional medical library, down across from a large candy factory and just up the hill from the regional clinical hospital (and upstairs from the regional blood bank - just in case!). Both of them are on easy and reliable bus routes, just a single bus to get there and back. And taking the bus certainly lets you see your surroundings in a different way. I'm really able to look around in a way that isn't possible when you're driving -- I see the ads for the latest performances in town, plastered on all the fences (Tibetan yaks at the Vlad Circus, anyone?), notice new businesses that either just opened or never caught my eye before. And you're just able to coexist with people in a more direct (if anonymous) way on the bus than driving around in a car lets you.
(And about the car itself: oh, it is a long and drawn-out saga indeed. Let's see, when I last reported in, we had had our steering wheel mauled by a particularly mal-meaning Russian mechanic, had made first contact with Nissan USA, who then made first contact, before first light, with the Riverside branch of the family. Everything from there just kind of got more and more mired in the muck. The well-meaning Nissan rep apparently gave us the wrong contact number, so all of Dan's increasingly urgent calls over the last two weeks of March went unheard. A few more calls at hours when most of us are asleep, to Riverside and to Vlad, and we determined that nothing this side of Irkutsk has enough of a legitimate connection to the Nissan corporation for the folks to send the part. But we determined we could get reimbursed for a part and labor we paid for directly, as long as Nissan is on the bill(s). Dan immediately ordered the part from a dealership in Virginia and our feet seemed to be loosening from the mire.
Cut to this week, when the part finally arrived via diplomatic pouch (no special delays, that's just how long it takes), and Dan goes with the help of a friend and colleague to begin getting the work done. One disappointing moment is when we learn that indeed neither of the 2 places that appear to have a connection to Nissan have enough of a true claim on the name to put it on their official bill. But the more depressing and frustrating news arrived when the better of the 2 choices of mechanic, apparently a thoughtful guy who was very willing to hear Dan out and not leap in where he didn't have enough information or didn't know what the heck he was doing, noticed that THE PART SENT BY THE U.S. MECHANIC GOT BROKEN IN THE MAIL! So, who knows what recourse we have with them: as Dan notes, they probably just threw the thing in a box to our Dulles address, not taking into account the beating it might take between State Department warehouse and plane, etc., and if they hear the whole transit itinerary they will surely withdraw all responsibility for its loss of integrity en route. We are just heading into the weekend, so we haven't had a chance yet to take stock or investigate what our next steps are. All I can say is: what a royal hassle!)
Work
Whether thanks to the bus, or spring, or just an unrelated change in momentum, my research is resurgent. I returned to the archives in March and I've finally found a lot of interesting primary documents on regional public health and tick-borne encephalitis. I have a bunch of things I hope to get a chance to look at (and the time left is just starting to seem like perhaps too little to get through it -- but regardless I'll have time to collect a bunch of interesting stuff).
It's also just fun to be back in the archives, after an absence essentially since last summer, before I took the Consulate job. There is a weird kind of feeling you get working there and being accepted by the ladies who run the reading rooms, one of whom especially here in Vlad is very serious and bureaucratic until you crack her, and she then really is friendly and supportive when you need it. It sounds good, but there's a weird side that emerges when you see someone flailing who hasn't cracked the unsmiling exterior, and you feel a little superior and comfortable in your position -- I don't necessarily like that feeling, but somehow having a little success in Russia in the face of adversity can do that to you.
My experience generally in archives so far in my career, primarily during my dissertation research, was a very needle-in-a-haystack experience, mainly because of my topic. I think that feeling is actually pretty much par for the course in archival work, but I suspect that the way my dissertation topic was defined so very differently from the way the archives were organized (and from the way any Russian asks questions of Russian history), it made it difficult to easily pinpoint what files might be useful. But now, simply by virtue of the fact that I'm interested in a particular disease, one that has a regional significance, for the first time in my work I've actually had the experience of writing in my notes "Jackpot!," after finding a file titled "Data about the morbidity and mortality of tick-borne encephalitis and malaria for 1940-41."
A Brief Update
What we're saying:
This month we have turned to verbs! And we're just recently getting into prepositions, noticing when those that are essential to a particular verb get attached to words in English. So, "put your shoes on" gets repeated as "shuzon"; "let's take your hood off" becomes "hoodoff."
tawai! = "vstavai!" ("get up!" in Russian)
go-oup = go/get up
syajish! = "syadis'!" ("sit down!" in Russian)
shiji! = "sit!" or "sit there!" in Russian
sit down! (very well enunciated - no need to translate - and almost always all of these sit-related imperatives are directed at "Beah," the funny little stuffed puppy whose species in the sleep-deprived mode of new parents we evidently could not identify, and thus he received the name "Rabbit-Bear," which for Anya is now and will surely always be "Beah.")
want (another one that really is pronounced pretty much on target, and is starting to be used to good effect.)
no (unfortunately this one is now in VERY wide usage. I know it would have gotten in there inevitably at some point, but I think I can actually trace its integration pretty well to the week we received a gift from Cousin Stacey and family: a really good little book, "Where's Spot?," whose refrain in every location where Spot is sought is, sadly, "no." Anya picked up on it very quickly and has run with it.)
pway! = play!
syuda = this way, over here in Russian
syagi = sadik, "preschool" (what I call Montessori center) in Russian
bai-sik-ull = bicycle (a real obsession for some reason, surely related to the appearance of our neighbors' tricycle outside, Anya's recent notice of the adult bikes perched unused downstairs in our house, and the existence of a picture of a trike on one of her blocks)
yogurr = yogurt (more to report next time, but I'll note here that we have ourselves a fan of homemade yogurt. And a person who has trouble distinguishing between the concepts "yoga" and "yogurt" when they are referred to too close together in conversation.)
syippah = slipper
tapogi = tapochki, "slipper" in Russian (For some reason, the little slippers with the velcro closure that I picked up on sale for the equivalent of about $7 at the local Bubbl-Goom store are a real hit.)
caw = car
mahina = mashina, "car" in Russian
crukk = truck
bussss! = bus (often followed by the comment "biiiig!" and more often followed by the comment "noi[se]" -- and in general when the identifying-vehicles mood strikes, it seems like every third one is a bus, so this word gets a whole lot of play.)
Play
The Pink Elephant is no more. Sometimes it seems like all the good things in Vlad just end or disappear right after you've found them and have started to get used to them being a joyful part of your life. I was pretty bummed about the closure right after I became aware of it, just before May Day. But then I decided we should just get right back up on the horse again and check on another local Montessori center I'd heard about for the under-3 set. Who knows, I told myself, maybe this one will actually be better than the P.E.! Then, in the couple of weeks after the Pink Elephant breathed its last, life of course sort of oozed into the cracks where that activity had been fitting, and after one frustrating unsuccessful phone call to get the basic info on "Vershina" ("Summit" -- a decidedly less interesting name...), it took me a little while to make another attempt to get us signed up and try it. An update on the new place will follow in the next post.
We did exchange phone numbers with the class leader from the Pink E. with whom we clicked the best, though -- Vika. Well, since we encountered three different leaders there in our 3 months of going, all of whom were named Vika, that isn't very precise. But we know which one we mean, and we are planning to meet her tomorrow for our first attempt at the children's performances that are given at the Regional Philharmonic. Tomorrow will be "The Ugly Duckling." I told you, there is so much going on, I need to set myself to writing a little shorter posts a little more often to really report it all on time -- so news of performances will have to go in the next entry, too.
Drive
OK, I admit that I was kind of a whiner about the car. It probably sounded like I was a spoiled brat who couldn't bear to take public transportation (except that, for those of you who have seen our location, really, it is not the easiest place to move around from without a car, am I right?). It was mainly the shopping (getting there and back AND lugging groceries or other purchases, e.g. big bags of diapers) that I did not relish having to do on buses. But, to be honest, I've actually had fun this past month viewing the city from a new perspective, taking the bus and marshrutka (minivan fixed-route taxi) to get around when it's just me and my work. And what has undoubtedly allowed me to have that fun was our decision to go ahead and use the car a limited amount, for grocery shopping and going places with Anya, just to try to stay off of it, like a bad ankle, as much as we can. Well, that, and the fact that it really is finally spring.
For some of the places I need to be for my research and writing, the bus can actually be a better way to get around. Right now I'm working at the state archive down next to the railroad station, and sometimes at the regional medical library, down across from a large candy factory and just up the hill from the regional clinical hospital (and upstairs from the regional blood bank - just in case!). Both of them are on easy and reliable bus routes, just a single bus to get there and back. And taking the bus certainly lets you see your surroundings in a different way. I'm really able to look around in a way that isn't possible when you're driving -- I see the ads for the latest performances in town, plastered on all the fences (Tibetan yaks at the Vlad Circus, anyone?), notice new businesses that either just opened or never caught my eye before. And you're just able to coexist with people in a more direct (if anonymous) way on the bus than driving around in a car lets you.
(And about the car itself: oh, it is a long and drawn-out saga indeed. Let's see, when I last reported in, we had had our steering wheel mauled by a particularly mal-meaning Russian mechanic, had made first contact with Nissan USA, who then made first contact, before first light, with the Riverside branch of the family. Everything from there just kind of got more and more mired in the muck. The well-meaning Nissan rep apparently gave us the wrong contact number, so all of Dan's increasingly urgent calls over the last two weeks of March went unheard. A few more calls at hours when most of us are asleep, to Riverside and to Vlad, and we determined that nothing this side of Irkutsk has enough of a legitimate connection to the Nissan corporation for the folks to send the part. But we determined we could get reimbursed for a part and labor we paid for directly, as long as Nissan is on the bill(s). Dan immediately ordered the part from a dealership in Virginia and our feet seemed to be loosening from the mire.
Cut to this week, when the part finally arrived via diplomatic pouch (no special delays, that's just how long it takes), and Dan goes with the help of a friend and colleague to begin getting the work done. One disappointing moment is when we learn that indeed neither of the 2 places that appear to have a connection to Nissan have enough of a true claim on the name to put it on their official bill. But the more depressing and frustrating news arrived when the better of the 2 choices of mechanic, apparently a thoughtful guy who was very willing to hear Dan out and not leap in where he didn't have enough information or didn't know what the heck he was doing, noticed that THE PART SENT BY THE U.S. MECHANIC GOT BROKEN IN THE MAIL! So, who knows what recourse we have with them: as Dan notes, they probably just threw the thing in a box to our Dulles address, not taking into account the beating it might take between State Department warehouse and plane, etc., and if they hear the whole transit itinerary they will surely withdraw all responsibility for its loss of integrity en route. We are just heading into the weekend, so we haven't had a chance yet to take stock or investigate what our next steps are. All I can say is: what a royal hassle!)
Work
Whether thanks to the bus, or spring, or just an unrelated change in momentum, my research is resurgent. I returned to the archives in March and I've finally found a lot of interesting primary documents on regional public health and tick-borne encephalitis. I have a bunch of things I hope to get a chance to look at (and the time left is just starting to seem like perhaps too little to get through it -- but regardless I'll have time to collect a bunch of interesting stuff).
It's also just fun to be back in the archives, after an absence essentially since last summer, before I took the Consulate job. There is a weird kind of feeling you get working there and being accepted by the ladies who run the reading rooms, one of whom especially here in Vlad is very serious and bureaucratic until you crack her, and she then really is friendly and supportive when you need it. It sounds good, but there's a weird side that emerges when you see someone flailing who hasn't cracked the unsmiling exterior, and you feel a little superior and comfortable in your position -- I don't necessarily like that feeling, but somehow having a little success in Russia in the face of adversity can do that to you.
My experience generally in archives so far in my career, primarily during my dissertation research, was a very needle-in-a-haystack experience, mainly because of my topic. I think that feeling is actually pretty much par for the course in archival work, but I suspect that the way my dissertation topic was defined so very differently from the way the archives were organized (and from the way any Russian asks questions of Russian history), it made it difficult to easily pinpoint what files might be useful. But now, simply by virtue of the fact that I'm interested in a particular disease, one that has a regional significance, for the first time in my work I've actually had the experience of writing in my notes "Jackpot!," after finding a file titled "Data about the morbidity and mortality of tick-borne encephalitis and malaria for 1940-41."
A Brief Update
What we're saying:
This month we have turned to verbs! And we're just recently getting into prepositions, noticing when those that are essential to a particular verb get attached to words in English. So, "put your shoes on" gets repeated as "shuzon"; "let's take your hood off" becomes "hoodoff."
tawai! = "vstavai!" ("get up!" in Russian)
go-oup = go/get up
syajish! = "syadis'!" ("sit down!" in Russian)
shiji! = "sit!" or "sit there!" in Russian
sit down! (very well enunciated - no need to translate - and almost always all of these sit-related imperatives are directed at "Beah," the funny little stuffed puppy whose species in the sleep-deprived mode of new parents we evidently could not identify, and thus he received the name "Rabbit-Bear," which for Anya is now and will surely always be "Beah.")
want (another one that really is pronounced pretty much on target, and is starting to be used to good effect.)
no (unfortunately this one is now in VERY wide usage. I know it would have gotten in there inevitably at some point, but I think I can actually trace its integration pretty well to the week we received a gift from Cousin Stacey and family: a really good little book, "Where's Spot?," whose refrain in every location where Spot is sought is, sadly, "no." Anya picked up on it very quickly and has run with it.)
pway! = play!
syuda = this way, over here in Russian
syagi = sadik, "preschool" (what I call Montessori center) in Russian
bai-sik-ull = bicycle (a real obsession for some reason, surely related to the appearance of our neighbors' tricycle outside, Anya's recent notice of the adult bikes perched unused downstairs in our house, and the existence of a picture of a trike on one of her blocks)
yogurr = yogurt (more to report next time, but I'll note here that we have ourselves a fan of homemade yogurt. And a person who has trouble distinguishing between the concepts "yoga" and "yogurt" when they are referred to too close together in conversation.)
syippah = slipper
tapogi = tapochki, "slipper" in Russian (For some reason, the little slippers with the velcro closure that I picked up on sale for the equivalent of about $7 at the local Bubbl-Goom store are a real hit.)
caw = car
mahina = mashina, "car" in Russian
crukk = truck
bussss! = bus (often followed by the comment "biiiig!" and more often followed by the comment "noi[se]" -- and in general when the identifying-vehicles mood strikes, it seems like every third one is a bus, so this word gets a whole lot of play.)
Saturday, April 19, 2008
Coming Home
We're back, once again, at home in Vlad, after our "Rest and Recreation" trip to the United States.
It's strange, since we've made this transition back plenty of times now, with all of our travels, but it's still jarring in a new way each time we return from a trip. This time weather probably plays some part: we traveled at perhaps the best time of year to Southern California and Arizona, and had what passes for great summer weather to us by now, with temps in the upper 70s and low to mid 80s the whole time, and mostly sunny. (We also had our grownups' getaway to the Bay Area, where it was a little chillier of course, cf. Mark Twain and all that "coldest winter" commentary; but that was more about other kinds of fulfillment than what the weather can give.)
There are certainly other things banging around in our heads that are making us nervous this time around on the return end -- our ever more closely impending permanent departure from Vlad is certainly one of them. (We will probably leave in July or so, but, without a firm plan, our approach to these last 3-4 months [ulp!] in Vlad and the logistical preparations for the move are just a bit more anxious.) But mainly we continue to try to re-establish routines and work enjoyable and satisfying things into our lives, as always.
Our Vehicle, Off Road
Unfortunately, just as it seemed we were close to obtaining that precarious balance again, we discovered a problem with our car. First the steering wheel was a tiny bit loose, and then we took it in to what apparently passes for a Nissan service center in Vlad, where Dan watched the "master" (Russian for mechanic) poke, pry and manhandle the steering wheel much more violently than he felt comfortable with, as he tried to get in there to disengage the airbag and see what was wrong. Their diagnosis was that we need a part that must be ordered from the US (since it's a US model car, not Japanese, which is the norm here), so we are in a bit of limbo.
In principle, the car can be driven, and Dan has talked to more than one American Nissan repair place (in which we have a bit more faith, although of course they haven't seen the car), where he's been told that it is unlikely to be unsafe to drive it rarely. But when your house is perched on an outcrop and you can either tumble down a steep and dusty path to one of the main bus arteries, or pick your way over a similarly dusty path up to the main road, without sidewalks, to catch a minivan taxi-bus into the center, and when you are used to driving around town both for work and for many errands, the prospect of having to use a combination of feet, public transportation, and taxis to accomplish your routine activities and keep the household running is daunting. (And unfortunately, since Nissan USA has trouble figuring time zones and area codes, a certain household in Riverside is also feeling some of our pain in the form of early morning phone calls....)
[I originally had a section here with some thoughts about food, but I wasn't happy with it -- I need to think some of this through better and then I'll put it back up in edited form.]
The Roundup:
What we're watching:
more "Arrested Development" on DVD
all the boring movies Lisa accidentally allowed to surface at the top of our Netflix queue (oops!), starting with "The Battle of Algiers" (yes, I know, we are philistines, but it all sounds well and good and edifying until you have just put your kid to bed and the last thing you want to watch is a subtitled movie from 1966 that will broaden your appreciation for what has happened in Iraq and perhaps much of the rest of the Middle East... You really want something to make you laugh.) (But, that said, we did like it.)
What we're listening to:
can't get enough of that crazy "Upper West Side Soweto" mix on Vampire Weekend's album (who let them describe their music that way??)
finally, the new Diggs album!
yet more Feist
the live In-Concert-at-MKhat stylings of Garik Sukachev
What we're saying, in the US and in Russia:
fingum = finger
hmumm = thumb
yabbi = rabbit
oyey = ears
sseepie = sleepy
izzi = Izzy, Judy and David's dog
Gnamma, Nimma = Grandma
Gha-pah = Grandpa
fann-ee = funny
ma-mom = gabonk, the splash-accompaniment sound made in the pool when you slap your cupped hand into the water
bop = (in addition to bread) "pop," the sound made when your Grandma undoes your buckle
bakk-l = aforementioned buckle (and when you want a big person to help you buckle it and unbuckle it ad infinitem, that's the word you want to repeat over and over and over again)
hman = fan, as in ceiling fans, of which there are many in the Old Pueblo, aka Tucson
tapp! = stopped!, as in, "The fan has been stopped!"
fokk = fork
hmun = spoon (excellent progress has been made on the utensil front)
ba-yell = bottle (not such great progress has been made on the bottle-weaning front)
yizza = lizard
fwow = flower, pronounced early and often in the lush spring landscape of the Southwest US
yakki = jacket
buud = bird
wokk = work
manum = building (these last 2 said often, together with noi [=noise] and man, to describe what's happening at the handful of construction sites visible from our outdoor play and strolling area)
syo = vsyo, Russian for "that's all" or "I'm done"
kudtka = kurtka, Russian for jacket
And I should add that many of these words are now employed in combinations that appear to be proto-sentences. Such as: "Tay-tay sseepie. Sseeps." (?? Why, "Sanchez is sleepy. He's sleeping," of course.) Or: "Man. Noi. Manum. Wokk." ("Those men are making noise and working on the building.") Very exciting developments!
It's strange, since we've made this transition back plenty of times now, with all of our travels, but it's still jarring in a new way each time we return from a trip. This time weather probably plays some part: we traveled at perhaps the best time of year to Southern California and Arizona, and had what passes for great summer weather to us by now, with temps in the upper 70s and low to mid 80s the whole time, and mostly sunny. (We also had our grownups' getaway to the Bay Area, where it was a little chillier of course, cf. Mark Twain and all that "coldest winter" commentary; but that was more about other kinds of fulfillment than what the weather can give.)
There are certainly other things banging around in our heads that are making us nervous this time around on the return end -- our ever more closely impending permanent departure from Vlad is certainly one of them. (We will probably leave in July or so, but, without a firm plan, our approach to these last 3-4 months [ulp!] in Vlad and the logistical preparations for the move are just a bit more anxious.) But mainly we continue to try to re-establish routines and work enjoyable and satisfying things into our lives, as always.
Our Vehicle, Off Road
Unfortunately, just as it seemed we were close to obtaining that precarious balance again, we discovered a problem with our car. First the steering wheel was a tiny bit loose, and then we took it in to what apparently passes for a Nissan service center in Vlad, where Dan watched the "master" (Russian for mechanic) poke, pry and manhandle the steering wheel much more violently than he felt comfortable with, as he tried to get in there to disengage the airbag and see what was wrong. Their diagnosis was that we need a part that must be ordered from the US (since it's a US model car, not Japanese, which is the norm here), so we are in a bit of limbo.
In principle, the car can be driven, and Dan has talked to more than one American Nissan repair place (in which we have a bit more faith, although of course they haven't seen the car), where he's been told that it is unlikely to be unsafe to drive it rarely. But when your house is perched on an outcrop and you can either tumble down a steep and dusty path to one of the main bus arteries, or pick your way over a similarly dusty path up to the main road, without sidewalks, to catch a minivan taxi-bus into the center, and when you are used to driving around town both for work and for many errands, the prospect of having to use a combination of feet, public transportation, and taxis to accomplish your routine activities and keep the household running is daunting. (And unfortunately, since Nissan USA has trouble figuring time zones and area codes, a certain household in Riverside is also feeling some of our pain in the form of early morning phone calls....)
[I originally had a section here with some thoughts about food, but I wasn't happy with it -- I need to think some of this through better and then I'll put it back up in edited form.]
The Roundup:
What we're watching:
more "Arrested Development" on DVD
all the boring movies Lisa accidentally allowed to surface at the top of our Netflix queue (oops!), starting with "The Battle of Algiers" (yes, I know, we are philistines, but it all sounds well and good and edifying until you have just put your kid to bed and the last thing you want to watch is a subtitled movie from 1966 that will broaden your appreciation for what has happened in Iraq and perhaps much of the rest of the Middle East... You really want something to make you laugh.) (But, that said, we did like it.)
What we're listening to:
can't get enough of that crazy "Upper West Side Soweto" mix on Vampire Weekend's album (who let them describe their music that way??)
finally, the new Diggs album!
yet more Feist
the live In-Concert-at-MKhat stylings of Garik Sukachev
What we're saying, in the US and in Russia:
fingum = finger
hmumm = thumb
yabbi = rabbit
oyey = ears
sseepie = sleepy
izzi = Izzy, Judy and David's dog
Gnamma, Nimma = Grandma
Gha-pah = Grandpa
fann-ee = funny
ma-mom = gabonk, the splash-accompaniment sound made in the pool when you slap your cupped hand into the water
bop = (in addition to bread) "pop," the sound made when your Grandma undoes your buckle
bakk-l = aforementioned buckle (and when you want a big person to help you buckle it and unbuckle it ad infinitem, that's the word you want to repeat over and over and over again)
hman = fan, as in ceiling fans, of which there are many in the Old Pueblo, aka Tucson
tapp! = stopped!, as in, "The fan has been stopped!"
fokk = fork
hmun = spoon (excellent progress has been made on the utensil front)
ba-yell = bottle (not such great progress has been made on the bottle-weaning front)
yizza = lizard
fwow = flower, pronounced early and often in the lush spring landscape of the Southwest US
yakki = jacket
buud = bird
wokk = work
manum = building (these last 2 said often, together with noi [=noise] and man, to describe what's happening at the handful of construction sites visible from our outdoor play and strolling area)
syo = vsyo, Russian for "that's all" or "I'm done"
kudtka = kurtka, Russian for jacket
And I should add that many of these words are now employed in combinations that appear to be proto-sentences. Such as: "Tay-tay sseepie. Sseeps." (?? Why, "Sanchez is sleepy. He's sleeping," of course.) Or: "Man. Noi. Manum. Wokk." ("Those men are making noise and working on the building.") Very exciting developments!
Monday, October 22, 2007
Wite-Out (and Walking Small)
One excuse for not posting anything here in such a long time is that we are so busy now these days, with me having gone back to work, etc. Another that held some validity through early October was that we had so many guests -- especially when so many of those guests were the very people reading this blog! But if the third excuse tends to be that "there just isn't any news," well, I guess that one really doesn't hold much water by now.
Certainly not after we've gotten the first snowfall of the season on October 19.
We have been anticipating the first anniversary of our arrival here (October 21), and sometimes, to be honest, the reflection associated with that upcoming milepost hasn't always been positive. But we certainly weren't thinking about the start of our second Vladivostokian winter even on Friday, as typhoon "Shanshan" rained down on us all day in buckets. Sure, the weather prediction was that Shanshan might turn to snow in the evening, but we just didn't take it very seriously.
I headed out to the airport in the pouring wet at about 2 o'clock, to meet one of the last of our new arrivals here at post for this fall. And as the car pulled away from the consulate, I did remember that when we arrived last year, it had been sunny and autumnal when we landed on the Saturday, but when we woke up on Sunday there was a surprise dusting of snow. 'Heh-heh,' I chuckled to myself, 'what symmetry (or irony, or metonymy... or whatever), that there might be snowfall this anniversary weekend.'
As we made our way down the driveway to the houses at about 5 o'clock, with the sun setting and the rain turning quickly to sleet and ice and not letting up any, the humor did sort of start to, uh, melt away. And by the time Dan and Anya and I got all bundled into the car to try to show our new arrival (also, confusingly, named Dan) a warm welcome at the home of one of the Americans who doesn't live here at the townhouses, and Dan (K.) had spent several minutes trying to dig us out of the snow, and the guard had come over to tell us how crazy we were to try to drive anywhere, well, that was where we started to realize the seriousness of the situation.
Basically, Vlad wasn't ready for an early snow, and we are lucky that we are pampered American diplotots, with a generator and our own water supply. Thanks to the elements (and the poor infrastructure and services and maintenance, of course), much of Vladivostok and Primorskii Krai was left without power and water on Saturday and Sunday, and apparently even today. See some of the outdoor evidence of the storm here.
We spent Friday night indoors with a couple of neighbors, rationing out the short supply of beer we had on hand, eating popcorn, and wondering how much of a target for resentment and other feelings or actions we represented up here on the hill with our lights ablaze.
In other news... many of you have probably been waiting for The Anya Report:
The small one is officially a toddler! I need to post a video or two, and of course this has been a process that has occupied the past month or so, but I think it is fair to say that Sunday was her first day of extended walking over relatively far distances (e.g., the length of the dining room at Vlad Motor Inn). Another very important element that has materialized in the past couple of weeks is her delight at walking and even initiative in letting go of the parental finger.
Also in the Anya news: spoon use. This weekend she also insisted on trying to feed herself from the fruit-and-cereal bowl. Imagine our surprise when she wasn't wearing absolutely every drop she had extracted from the dish, but had actually gotten a bit in her mouth. (Video clips will surely follow on this story, too.)
And perhaps the last bit of news with the tyke is her vocabulary, which really hasn't seen a great deal of expansion in the past several weeks, but which curiously now revolves to a large extent around one word, which neither the English-speaking nor the Russian-speaking friends and caretakers can interpret: "appi" (sometimes rendered as "appa," "app-da," or "abbi"). I originally thought this was "apple," or maybe a variant of "papa," but it pops up too often and in way too many situations to fit.... Maybe this is just a special Anya creation, appropriate to many situations (e.g., when I want that thing on the table, when I'm hungry, when I want to greet mom or dad, when I'm hungry, when I see something interesting out the window, when I want to indicate that the cat is nearby, when I'm hungry -- you get the idea). Also featuring prominently, often when she sees a picture of a baby, is "baaay-beee," pretty much the only truly English word we recognize in her lexicon.
Otherwise, things are just going well with the kid, who remains a happy and good-natured girl most of the time, even if some frustration creeps in now and then (hey, it's tough when you realize all the things you can theoretically do in the world, but for which you yourself might still lack the dexterity or height to actually accomplish today).
Certainly not after we've gotten the first snowfall of the season on October 19.
We have been anticipating the first anniversary of our arrival here (October 21), and sometimes, to be honest, the reflection associated with that upcoming milepost hasn't always been positive. But we certainly weren't thinking about the start of our second Vladivostokian winter even on Friday, as typhoon "Shanshan" rained down on us all day in buckets. Sure, the weather prediction was that Shanshan might turn to snow in the evening, but we just didn't take it very seriously.
I headed out to the airport in the pouring wet at about 2 o'clock, to meet one of the last of our new arrivals here at post for this fall. And as the car pulled away from the consulate, I did remember that when we arrived last year, it had been sunny and autumnal when we landed on the Saturday, but when we woke up on Sunday there was a surprise dusting of snow. 'Heh-heh,' I chuckled to myself, 'what symmetry (or irony, or metonymy... or whatever), that there might be snowfall this anniversary weekend.'
As we made our way down the driveway to the houses at about 5 o'clock, with the sun setting and the rain turning quickly to sleet and ice and not letting up any, the humor did sort of start to, uh, melt away. And by the time Dan and Anya and I got all bundled into the car to try to show our new arrival (also, confusingly, named Dan) a warm welcome at the home of one of the Americans who doesn't live here at the townhouses, and Dan (K.) had spent several minutes trying to dig us out of the snow, and the guard had come over to tell us how crazy we were to try to drive anywhere, well, that was where we started to realize the seriousness of the situation.
Basically, Vlad wasn't ready for an early snow, and we are lucky that we are pampered American diplotots, with a generator and our own water supply. Thanks to the elements (and the poor infrastructure and services and maintenance, of course), much of Vladivostok and Primorskii Krai was left without power and water on Saturday and Sunday, and apparently even today. See some of the outdoor evidence of the storm here.
We spent Friday night indoors with a couple of neighbors, rationing out the short supply of beer we had on hand, eating popcorn, and wondering how much of a target for resentment and other feelings or actions we represented up here on the hill with our lights ablaze.
In other news... many of you have probably been waiting for The Anya Report:
The small one is officially a toddler! I need to post a video or two, and of course this has been a process that has occupied the past month or so, but I think it is fair to say that Sunday was her first day of extended walking over relatively far distances (e.g., the length of the dining room at Vlad Motor Inn). Another very important element that has materialized in the past couple of weeks is her delight at walking and even initiative in letting go of the parental finger.
Also in the Anya news: spoon use. This weekend she also insisted on trying to feed herself from the fruit-and-cereal bowl. Imagine our surprise when she wasn't wearing absolutely every drop she had extracted from the dish, but had actually gotten a bit in her mouth. (Video clips will surely follow on this story, too.)
And perhaps the last bit of news with the tyke is her vocabulary, which really hasn't seen a great deal of expansion in the past several weeks, but which curiously now revolves to a large extent around one word, which neither the English-speaking nor the Russian-speaking friends and caretakers can interpret: "appi" (sometimes rendered as "appa," "app-da," or "abbi"). I originally thought this was "apple," or maybe a variant of "papa," but it pops up too often and in way too many situations to fit.... Maybe this is just a special Anya creation, appropriate to many situations (e.g., when I want that thing on the table, when I'm hungry, when I want to greet mom or dad, when I'm hungry, when I see something interesting out the window, when I want to indicate that the cat is nearby, when I'm hungry -- you get the idea). Also featuring prominently, often when she sees a picture of a baby, is "baaay-beee," pretty much the only truly English word we recognize in her lexicon.
Otherwise, things are just going well with the kid, who remains a happy and good-natured girl most of the time, even if some frustration creeps in now and then (hey, it's tough when you realize all the things you can theoretically do in the world, but for which you yourself might still lack the dexterity or height to actually accomplish today).
Saturday, April 07, 2007
Sproing
These days it really seems like spring has genuinely sprung in Vlad. I was superstitiously knocking on wood every time I made reference to this for the last few weeks. But now -- despite the weird snow flurries that blustered in briefly without sticking, on an otherwise sunny Wednesday this past week, and distracting my students to no end -- I think it is safe to really call it a new season.
Perhaps the funniest (funny-peculiar; not exactly “ha-ha funny”) part about the thaw and spring in Vlad is the way the roads have possibly gotten worse rather than better. As Dan remarked the other day, we thought that the time was nearly passed when we would be thankful for our 4-wheel-drive vehicle every time we drove. Not so. Yes, the snow that was heaped up very high along the roads, and in random large piles in most parking areas (to our chagrin, but that's another story), for the most part has melted. (That doesn’t mean that the drifts that accumulated in the passageway behind our townhouses have disappeared. It must be the lack of direct sunlight, but unfortunately a dusty, dirty wedge of icy snow remains in about a third of the space back there, covering what I recall to have been grass when it was last visible.) But with the snow on the roads gone, and with a few weeks of temps that hovered around freezing, and with the apparently lower quality paving materials that must be used here, and with those honking-big buses that lurch and bounce up and down the thoroughfares, Vlad’s streets are actually an unholy disaster now, minefields full of potholes big and small. Traffic may not be restricted to a thin flow on snowbound roads, but instead everyone slows to a crawl to avoid ruining their cars’ suspension on the craters that have appeared all over the place. A Russian colleague of Dan’s agreed that lower quality materials are used: in fact, she claims they are used on purpose, in order to ensure fuller employment come spring!
We are enjoying our first visitor this weekend: our friend Melissa, with whom Dan worked in Washington, was touring the region and was able to make a stop in Vladivostok before heading home. We welcomed her with a homemade deep-dish pizza yesterday for dinner, and today we hope that the predicted rain won’t appear and the morning fog will clear so that we can take a drive and show her around the city and the surrounding countryside along the peninsula. Tonight we may buy some seafood to cook at home, and tomorrow night we are aiming for dinner with some local friends at a Georgian restaurant that we like. (Hint, hint: all this and more can be yours if you think you can handle a Vlad vacation…!)
Last but not least of the current happenings, I suppose, is our plan to take ourselves and Anya on a short bus trip to northern China late next week. The trip is organized by the Russian government, and Dan was invited as a consulate employee, and family members are also allowed to go. They may regret their decision to allow a Person of Diminutive Stature and as-yet Fewer Than Eight Months of Life on the bus, but we’ll do everything in our power not to inspire such disappointment. Hopefully it will be fun -- the primary destination is Yanji, which is the capital of China’s autonomous Korean province (which I had no idea existed until we got to Vlad -- shows how much I know about anything!). One of the frustrating things about the travel we expected to try to do on our own here in the Far East is the fact that our Russian visas do not allow us to leave the country at exit points other than the airport, even though geographically we are tantalizingly close to the Chinese border. (Russians actually cross it all the time for cheap shopping in border towns -- think Tijuana or Nogales with less tequila and more egg rolls.) All of which means that this bus trip, taken under the protective arm of Russian officialdom itself, ironically appears to be one of the only ways for us to make that relatively short overland journey to China and rest assured we aren't violating our visa rules. Hey, we’ll look at it as a test-drive: if it’s fun and the munchkin cooperates, maybe we’ll fly to Shanghai or something for a little more tourism sometime soon!
Perhaps the funniest (funny-peculiar; not exactly “ha-ha funny”) part about the thaw and spring in Vlad is the way the roads have possibly gotten worse rather than better. As Dan remarked the other day, we thought that the time was nearly passed when we would be thankful for our 4-wheel-drive vehicle every time we drove. Not so. Yes, the snow that was heaped up very high along the roads, and in random large piles in most parking areas (to our chagrin, but that's another story), for the most part has melted. (That doesn’t mean that the drifts that accumulated in the passageway behind our townhouses have disappeared. It must be the lack of direct sunlight, but unfortunately a dusty, dirty wedge of icy snow remains in about a third of the space back there, covering what I recall to have been grass when it was last visible.) But with the snow on the roads gone, and with a few weeks of temps that hovered around freezing, and with the apparently lower quality paving materials that must be used here, and with those honking-big buses that lurch and bounce up and down the thoroughfares, Vlad’s streets are actually an unholy disaster now, minefields full of potholes big and small. Traffic may not be restricted to a thin flow on snowbound roads, but instead everyone slows to a crawl to avoid ruining their cars’ suspension on the craters that have appeared all over the place. A Russian colleague of Dan’s agreed that lower quality materials are used: in fact, she claims they are used on purpose, in order to ensure fuller employment come spring!
We are enjoying our first visitor this weekend: our friend Melissa, with whom Dan worked in Washington, was touring the region and was able to make a stop in Vladivostok before heading home. We welcomed her with a homemade deep-dish pizza yesterday for dinner, and today we hope that the predicted rain won’t appear and the morning fog will clear so that we can take a drive and show her around the city and the surrounding countryside along the peninsula. Tonight we may buy some seafood to cook at home, and tomorrow night we are aiming for dinner with some local friends at a Georgian restaurant that we like. (Hint, hint: all this and more can be yours if you think you can handle a Vlad vacation…!)
Last but not least of the current happenings, I suppose, is our plan to take ourselves and Anya on a short bus trip to northern China late next week. The trip is organized by the Russian government, and Dan was invited as a consulate employee, and family members are also allowed to go. They may regret their decision to allow a Person of Diminutive Stature and as-yet Fewer Than Eight Months of Life on the bus, but we’ll do everything in our power not to inspire such disappointment. Hopefully it will be fun -- the primary destination is Yanji, which is the capital of China’s autonomous Korean province (which I had no idea existed until we got to Vlad -- shows how much I know about anything!). One of the frustrating things about the travel we expected to try to do on our own here in the Far East is the fact that our Russian visas do not allow us to leave the country at exit points other than the airport, even though geographically we are tantalizingly close to the Chinese border. (Russians actually cross it all the time for cheap shopping in border towns -- think Tijuana or Nogales with less tequila and more egg rolls.) All of which means that this bus trip, taken under the protective arm of Russian officialdom itself, ironically appears to be one of the only ways for us to make that relatively short overland journey to China and rest assured we aren't violating our visa rules. Hey, we’ll look at it as a test-drive: if it’s fun and the munchkin cooperates, maybe we’ll fly to Shanghai or something for a little more tourism sometime soon!
Sunday, March 25, 2007
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!
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!
Monday, March 05, 2007
The Snowy Day
We're baaaack! We have been home in Vlad for about a week now, after a really enjoyable trip to the US, with stops in California and Arizona. It was great to see family and friends, although it was tough to fit so much activity and travel into a short two-plus-weeks. Anya did absolutely great on the trip, on the many domestic and international flights, through all of the disruption of her routine and with all of the new faces and places. Now that we are back and settled, things are pretty much back to what had been our normal routine.
In the States, we were able to get our fill of autentico Mexican food, and Anya was able to stock up on a few new toys and books, since the bunch she had at home in Vlad were starting to get a little old. (Well, really probably they were only starting to get old for me...) One of the books I picked up was Ezra Jack Keats's "The Snowy Day" -- one of my favorites as a kid -- which I thought might be good to have here in Vlad. Little did I know how soon and with what ferocity the elements would oblige!
Today, Monday, March 5, is officially a snow day. We're currently in the midst of a major blizzard that began on Sunday night, has lasted all day today, and is predicted to last well into tomorrow. One news source claims that overnight Vlad got two times the average monthly amount of precipitation. The US Consulate is officially closed, and, although today was supposed to be my first day teaching composition at the local international school, classes there were cancelled, too. And it's a good thing, because it's positively bleak outside, with major gusts of wind and extremely low visibility. We will be fine, but I can't guarantee the same for many of the local population. A big snowstorm that we just barely missed a couple of weeks ago (which was apparently not as bad as this) cut power and heat for several thousand of the region's inhabitants.
The video short linked to the picture above probably doesn't really do the storm justice, and of course, when it comes right down to it, I guess it is just a big blizzard, the likes of which many have experienced at some point or another. Still, I wanted to try to capture some of what it looked like out our window today mid-morning.
Today being stuck inside hasn't been too bad, with Dan home most of the day (he, like most of the other Americans, who can get to the Consulate on foot, did go in for a few hours). But it has taken the better part of the week not only for Anya and us to adjust back to Vlad time, but also for me to get back in the groove of life here in all of its differences from that in the US. It kind of surprised me to feel so badly precisely when I did, although it did occur to me ahead of time that it would probably be tougher coming back this direction, and not just because we'd be heading back into a tougher, more isolated, not to mention colder, life here after seeing family and enjoying the weather in the American West. I sensed that it would be hard to quit cold turkey after having two weeks with several people at a time around to lean on in caring for Anya and to give me a break now and then. And also simply to see an end to the vacation time that allowed me and Anya and Dan to spend so much great time together, as well as to share all the good Anya moments with family and friends. But I guess it is just hard to fully appreciate and foresee what something like that will feel like until you are in it. The first few days back in Russia, even with the help of our Russian babysitter, were a little hard. But now I think I am back on track and ready to start the handful of hours of teaching each week that I've signed up for, as well as the research I was just delving into before we left, and also to spend the hours at home with Anya and taking care of the crazy four-story townhouse.
In the States, we were able to get our fill of autentico Mexican food, and Anya was able to stock up on a few new toys and books, since the bunch she had at home in Vlad were starting to get a little old. (Well, really probably they were only starting to get old for me...) One of the books I picked up was Ezra Jack Keats's "The Snowy Day" -- one of my favorites as a kid -- which I thought might be good to have here in Vlad. Little did I know how soon and with what ferocity the elements would oblige!
Today, Monday, March 5, is officially a snow day. We're currently in the midst of a major blizzard that began on Sunday night, has lasted all day today, and is predicted to last well into tomorrow. One news source claims that overnight Vlad got two times the average monthly amount of precipitation. The US Consulate is officially closed, and, although today was supposed to be my first day teaching composition at the local international school, classes there were cancelled, too. And it's a good thing, because it's positively bleak outside, with major gusts of wind and extremely low visibility. We will be fine, but I can't guarantee the same for many of the local population. A big snowstorm that we just barely missed a couple of weeks ago (which was apparently not as bad as this) cut power and heat for several thousand of the region's inhabitants.
The video short linked to the picture above probably doesn't really do the storm justice, and of course, when it comes right down to it, I guess it is just a big blizzard, the likes of which many have experienced at some point or another. Still, I wanted to try to capture some of what it looked like out our window today mid-morning.
Today being stuck inside hasn't been too bad, with Dan home most of the day (he, like most of the other Americans, who can get to the Consulate on foot, did go in for a few hours). But it has taken the better part of the week not only for Anya and us to adjust back to Vlad time, but also for me to get back in the groove of life here in all of its differences from that in the US. It kind of surprised me to feel so badly precisely when I did, although it did occur to me ahead of time that it would probably be tougher coming back this direction, and not just because we'd be heading back into a tougher, more isolated, not to mention colder, life here after seeing family and enjoying the weather in the American West. I sensed that it would be hard to quit cold turkey after having two weeks with several people at a time around to lean on in caring for Anya and to give me a break now and then. And also simply to see an end to the vacation time that allowed me and Anya and Dan to spend so much great time together, as well as to share all the good Anya moments with family and friends. But I guess it is just hard to fully appreciate and foresee what something like that will feel like until you are in it. The first few days back in Russia, even with the help of our Russian babysitter, were a little hard. But now I think I am back on track and ready to start the handful of hours of teaching each week that I've signed up for, as well as the research I was just delving into before we left, and also to spend the hours at home with Anya and taking care of the crazy four-story townhouse.
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
A Polar Bear Explores the World
I guess the most recent photos I uploaded to Flickr probably deserve at least a little explanation, since everyone who has commented on them to me has said "it looks so cold!" (You can see these photos as a group if you look here
So, for orientation's sake: if you have looked at any general map of Vladivostok with much detail, you will have noticed not only that the city is situated at the southwest tip of the Murav'ev-Amurskii Peninsula, but that it also has a tantalizing finger of land dangling from its own southwest edge, which in effect sort of shelters the mouth of the Golden Horn Bay from the open water of the Amur Bay. That finger of land is "Scott Peninsula" in geographical terms (poluostrov Shkota); as a neighborhood of Vladivostok, its administrative name is “Egershel’d.” And that peninsula in turn has an even tinier spit of land (or probably just a spit made up of beach glass and other random detritus), a thin curving sliver extending off of its end, much like an accumulation of, well, spittle that might dangle from a five-and-a-half-month-old's lip
I have to confess that these places really didn't hold as much fascination for me personally as it apparently did for Dan when we first got here, and especially when we first received our car. But his interest can be surmised from the fact that the finger, and the sliver, were our very first destinations after we had our wheels. And that fascination can be even better understood (I think) if you realize that that first trip was taken at about 7:30 in the evening, in the dark. He really wanted to see that spit of land -- even if, in going there, he couldn't even see it!
Since then, it actually has become kind of fascinating to me. We've gone a couple of different times (all in the light, I am glad to say). And I find it a really interesting end-of-the-earth kind of place, yet an easy drive for us from our house. There is a lighthouse there: always makes a place slightly more picturesque. And the light out there at the end of the day, especially with all of the ice and snow right now, is really beautiful.
The pictures I posted do look cold, but in fact the reason we went out to Egersheld last Sunday was that it was a beautiful, sunny day and relatively warm. Everything just seemed like it was melting -- in fact, it is kind of gross here when it gets as warm as it has been this past week, with temperatures as high as 3 or 4C, with all the ice and snow on the streets and sidewalks melting and spattering the car, and puddles of mud and goo everywhere. Last Sunday out on Egersheld, Dan and I were wearing our fall jackets, and the sun really did warm everything up considerably.
But I guess the interesting thing about Egersheld is that it still looks pristine and white even in that weather, and the ice is only partially melted in the water out in the direction of the Amur Bay. There were several other people who had also decided to drive out there and take a walk around the lighthouse and enjoy the nice weather. We suited up the munchkin in the car when we got there, in her little polar bear-like snowsuit, and she didn’t seem to mind much at all. I think she got hungry at the end, when she started to fuss a little bit, so we wrapped it up and headed for a nearby café where we had a late afternoon snack and some coffee.
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NB! We are taking our big trip to the US over the next two and a half weeks, so don't think that I have abandoned the blog if I am not able to add any tidbits until we are back, basically at the end of February.
Monday, January 22, 2007
Ice, Ice, Baby
There hasn't been a lot of news lately, which I suppose is the inevitable result after the holidays (even though our holidays weren't even that exciting!). I did want to report on a Sunday outing last week, though.
We went out to brunch at the famous Vlad Motor Inn, and it was such a crisp sunny day that we decided to take a walk afterward out by the beach. This is basically an area full of recreation points and "sanatoria" in the best Soviet style (hence the fact that the electric commuter train stop there is called "Sanatornaia").
The little park by the sea has an ice rink and little windows where they sell tea and snacks and things. And then just steps away is the Amur Gulf, which in summer I assume is lovely to take a dip in. This time of year, especially when we've had several good days of temperatures in the -5-10C range, it is covered with a thick layer of ice.
Last Sunday when we went, there were just people everywhere, skating at the rink, walking along the paths that run parallel to the shoreline, stopping for a sandwich and a thermos of coffee or possibly something stronger, playing with their kids (the preferred mode of transport for anyone under about 8 and over about 1 seems to be the sled, dragged by a parent), etc. There must have been people out on the ice fishing, too, but mainly it was peppered with people out strolling and having a good time. It was cold, but the sun warmed us, and there was no wind at all: just perfect. We had Anya in her stroller (see Flickr photos for a dissection of how bundled she can get for these outings), and she slept most of the time. I guess I am having trouble coming up with much detail beyond this to convey what a great time it was, but maybe I have given a flavor of it: just a simple day out in the sun, feeling good, having fun with the kid and with each other, and seemingly enjoying something that many of our fellow Vladivostokians were also happily partaking in around us.
Of course, we forgot the camera, which was a real annoyance -- we could have conveyed it better with a few thousand words worth of pics. And we could have snapped photos of the interesting ice textures that had been created by freezing and thawing so far this season, as well as the hood of a truck that was sticking out of the ice about 50 yards out from the shore. And the interesting high Stalinist architecture of the main sanatorium building in the complex for the Ministry of Defense, complete with many columns, arches, and reinterpretations of Greek athletic statues.
But we didn't, so we couldn't. I took this photo today, over a week later, because the natural scene here on the Gulf right near downtown Vlad resembled what we had seen out at Sanatornaia, although it was much less populated since it was already Monday morning. Hopefully it won't be the last Sunday stroll we'll have out there, though, and maybe we can catch all the ice activity on film at some point soon.
We went out to brunch at the famous Vlad Motor Inn, and it was such a crisp sunny day that we decided to take a walk afterward out by the beach. This is basically an area full of recreation points and "sanatoria" in the best Soviet style (hence the fact that the electric commuter train stop there is called "Sanatornaia").
The little park by the sea has an ice rink and little windows where they sell tea and snacks and things. And then just steps away is the Amur Gulf, which in summer I assume is lovely to take a dip in. This time of year, especially when we've had several good days of temperatures in the -5-10C range, it is covered with a thick layer of ice.
Last Sunday when we went, there were just people everywhere, skating at the rink, walking along the paths that run parallel to the shoreline, stopping for a sandwich and a thermos of coffee or possibly something stronger, playing with their kids (the preferred mode of transport for anyone under about 8 and over about 1 seems to be the sled, dragged by a parent), etc. There must have been people out on the ice fishing, too, but mainly it was peppered with people out strolling and having a good time. It was cold, but the sun warmed us, and there was no wind at all: just perfect. We had Anya in her stroller (see Flickr photos for a dissection of how bundled she can get for these outings), and she slept most of the time. I guess I am having trouble coming up with much detail beyond this to convey what a great time it was, but maybe I have given a flavor of it: just a simple day out in the sun, feeling good, having fun with the kid and with each other, and seemingly enjoying something that many of our fellow Vladivostokians were also happily partaking in around us.
Of course, we forgot the camera, which was a real annoyance -- we could have conveyed it better with a few thousand words worth of pics. And we could have snapped photos of the interesting ice textures that had been created by freezing and thawing so far this season, as well as the hood of a truck that was sticking out of the ice about 50 yards out from the shore. And the interesting high Stalinist architecture of the main sanatorium building in the complex for the Ministry of Defense, complete with many columns, arches, and reinterpretations of Greek athletic statues.
But we didn't, so we couldn't. I took this photo today, over a week later, because the natural scene here on the Gulf right near downtown Vlad resembled what we had seen out at Sanatornaia, although it was much less populated since it was already Monday morning. Hopefully it won't be the last Sunday stroll we'll have out there, though, and maybe we can catch all the ice activity on film at some point soon.
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
Holidays on Ice
Well, I sat at the window this morning and watched the cars tiptoe their way down the "Church Road" -- the sort of steep road, but not as steep as another more major road, that leads from our location up on the ridge down to the lower elevation where the Consulate and downtown Vlad are located, and which is visible directly out our front windows. I find it kind of fascinating to watch the activity on the road and judge from that what it's like outside. Today what it tells me, or really confirms for me is: the slipping and sliding that everyone predicted for the winter has begun.
We had our first major snowstorm on Saturday, which was kind of exciting. It basically snowed all day, with the temperatures hovering around zero, and then when the snowfall stopped (see the photo), the wind picked up and the temperature began to fall. From Sunday (which turned out to be a White Orthodox Christmas) onward, it has been colder again -- minus 5-10C -- and, due to the lack of any salt or sand distributed on the roads, pretty slick. Happy to say that the XTerra does great in the snow, especially in 4WD, it's the other guys that you kind of wonder about!
Until today, however, at least there weren't many other drivers on the roads, since it was "The Holidays." I don't know whether you have seen this article in the New York Times about the winter vacation here in Russia, but it is pretty interesting: http://tinyurl.com/yzpl2h. Basically the whole place shuts down for a couple of weeks surrounding New Year's and Eastern Christmas. In fact, I hadn't really realized that this was only made official by Prez Putin in 2005 -- I remember things shutting down, in I guess what must have been an unofficial capacity, during my other winter stays here, too. Unfortunately Dan was down with the flu, or recovering from it, for the better part of the week, which he too had off from work. But we did manage to take a couple of drives and relax a little bit during that time, photos of which are on Flickr.
Saturday, December 30, 2006
A Drive Around the Peninsula
Christmas Eve day here in Vlad was a lovely, sunny day with temperatures only around -3C and barely any wind. We decided to take a drive around the south and east edges of the Murav'ev-Amurskii Peninsula, in the direction we hadn't yet traveled. (You can explore the photos and the geography on the Flickr map if you follow the linked picture.)
We were pleasantly surprised at the landscape and the scenery. Although you do get the usual trash deposited all over the place, this lessened as we got further from the city, until it really was nearly pristine nature (the kind that Russians love to praise even while they are throwing their plastic bags and Snickers wrappers out into the vast expanse of "priroda" that they are claiming to enjoy).
We stopped along the way at a couple of little bays and beaches -- we weren't the only ones to enjoy a lovely Sunday afternoon, but I can tell that these locations are surely much more full of people in the summer and fall. At a beachside cafe at the little resort point of Lazurnyi Bereg ("Azure Shore"), we had kebab (or shashlyk in local parlance), Uzbek dumplings (manty), some pickled herring, and a salad of fresh vegetables. And were again pleasantly surprised at the friendly, slightly shy waitress. Definitely not the norm in Russia.
In case you are wondering about the name of the peninsula, Count Nikolai Murav'ev-Amurskii was governor-general of Eastern Siberia in the mid-nineteenth century, and there are a bunch of things in and around Vlad that bear his name. If you're dying to know more about him and Russia's exploration of the Far East (perhaps in preparation for a visit to these parts?), I suspect that Mark Bassin's 1999 historical monograph "Imperial Visions" may provide a good, if academic, overview in English.
We were pleasantly surprised at the landscape and the scenery. Although you do get the usual trash deposited all over the place, this lessened as we got further from the city, until it really was nearly pristine nature (the kind that Russians love to praise even while they are throwing their plastic bags and Snickers wrappers out into the vast expanse of "priroda" that they are claiming to enjoy).
We stopped along the way at a couple of little bays and beaches -- we weren't the only ones to enjoy a lovely Sunday afternoon, but I can tell that these locations are surely much more full of people in the summer and fall. At a beachside cafe at the little resort point of Lazurnyi Bereg ("Azure Shore"), we had kebab (or shashlyk in local parlance), Uzbek dumplings (manty), some pickled herring, and a salad of fresh vegetables. And were again pleasantly surprised at the friendly, slightly shy waitress. Definitely not the norm in Russia.
In case you are wondering about the name of the peninsula, Count Nikolai Murav'ev-Amurskii was governor-general of Eastern Siberia in the mid-nineteenth century, and there are a bunch of things in and around Vlad that bear his name. If you're dying to know more about him and Russia's exploration of the Far East (perhaps in preparation for a visit to these parts?), I suspect that Mark Bassin's 1999 historical monograph "Imperial Visions" may provide a good, if academic, overview in English.
Thursday, December 28, 2006
(Almost) Gone With the Wind
OK, here is my pre-New Year’s resolution: I want to start adding something shorter more frequently to the blog. I can’t promise that I’ll keep my resolution immediately or even stick to it routinely, but I hope to start inching my way towards the goal.
So, for today: cold wind. Dan, the chief surveyor of the Goat Path in our family, can surely comment on this more thoroughly than I can. But I'll try. After being greeted here in Vlad by a long and unseasonably warm autumn, and then experiencing one truly warm December day this past Tuesday, during the night between Tuesday and Wednesday the weather really turned! We could hear the wind whipping up around our house and buffeting our windows that night, and it hasn’t really let up much since then. Today, Thursday, it started out around -15C and the warmest it got was -11C. I knew it was really bad when our nanny decided to forego her usual mid-day walk outside with Anya all bundled up in her stroller.
Yesterday I had to go to a holiday event at the American Consul General’s residence, which is located high up on “Tiger Hill,” on the spit of land that runs between the Amur Gulf and the Golden Horn Bay that is Vlad’s harbor.
(I know that my earlier attempt to use online maps to show where we are didn’t work out for everyone, but I will try again. If you go to this site: http://map.primorye.ru/default.asp?l=eng and type in “1 morskaya” for the street and “14” for the house number, you should get a map that can be opened in a new window and fully manipulated, and which will show you our approximate location.)
Out there on Tiger Hill, the wind was unbelievable -- I was dressed nicely for the event and wearing heels, but had to park near the Hotel Vladivostok (at 10 Naberezhnaya) and walk uphill about five minutes to get to the house. Afterwards, on the way back down to the car, as I walked with my friend Branca, the wind blew so hard that we both felt like sailboats. We were literally pushed downhill so hard that I thought I was just going to lose my balance and control of my feet completely and tumble down! It was the strangest feeling, and not altogether pleasant. Definitely the hardest wind I’ve ever experienced. We latched arms to try to make it down the hill in one piece, and we did make it down safely, but I was actually afraid that with the increased surface area we’d really become a sail and be blown out into the bay!
Our other big news since we’ve last written in: the remainder of our household effects has arrived! And on Christmas Day evening, which made for a very welcome gift. We are now in the thick of unpacking and making our home much more familiar and comfortable to us. That is a lot of fun -- I think we are enjoying hanging the pictures the most out of everything. (Dan is at work hanging that huge, 4-part map of Russia "and contiguous states" that used to hang in our guest room back in Bethesda as I write this.)
I still have a partial draft of an entry that describes the general feel of shopping here in Vlad, and I assure you I will finish it soon and post it. Until I get the chance to do that, I’ll try to write in more often with the tidbits that I can manage…
So, for today: cold wind. Dan, the chief surveyor of the Goat Path in our family, can surely comment on this more thoroughly than I can. But I'll try. After being greeted here in Vlad by a long and unseasonably warm autumn, and then experiencing one truly warm December day this past Tuesday, during the night between Tuesday and Wednesday the weather really turned! We could hear the wind whipping up around our house and buffeting our windows that night, and it hasn’t really let up much since then. Today, Thursday, it started out around -15C and the warmest it got was -11C. I knew it was really bad when our nanny decided to forego her usual mid-day walk outside with Anya all bundled up in her stroller.
Yesterday I had to go to a holiday event at the American Consul General’s residence, which is located high up on “Tiger Hill,” on the spit of land that runs between the Amur Gulf and the Golden Horn Bay that is Vlad’s harbor.
(I know that my earlier attempt to use online maps to show where we are didn’t work out for everyone, but I will try again. If you go to this site: http://map.primorye.ru/default.asp?l=eng and type in “1 morskaya” for the street and “14” for the house number, you should get a map that can be opened in a new window and fully manipulated, and which will show you our approximate location.)
Out there on Tiger Hill, the wind was unbelievable -- I was dressed nicely for the event and wearing heels, but had to park near the Hotel Vladivostok (at 10 Naberezhnaya) and walk uphill about five minutes to get to the house. Afterwards, on the way back down to the car, as I walked with my friend Branca, the wind blew so hard that we both felt like sailboats. We were literally pushed downhill so hard that I thought I was just going to lose my balance and control of my feet completely and tumble down! It was the strangest feeling, and not altogether pleasant. Definitely the hardest wind I’ve ever experienced. We latched arms to try to make it down the hill in one piece, and we did make it down safely, but I was actually afraid that with the increased surface area we’d really become a sail and be blown out into the bay!
Our other big news since we’ve last written in: the remainder of our household effects has arrived! And on Christmas Day evening, which made for a very welcome gift. We are now in the thick of unpacking and making our home much more familiar and comfortable to us. That is a lot of fun -- I think we are enjoying hanging the pictures the most out of everything. (Dan is at work hanging that huge, 4-part map of Russia "and contiguous states" that used to hang in our guest room back in Bethesda as I write this.)
I still have a partial draft of an entry that describes the general feel of shopping here in Vlad, and I assure you I will finish it soon and post it. Until I get the chance to do that, I’ll try to write in more often with the tidbits that I can manage…
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