Close encounters with identity theft

I planned to spend part of Sunday evening writing about our recent trip to Veliky Novgorod. Instead, it was entirely derailed by a phone call.

Woman: "Hello? Can I speak with Mr. or Mrs. Poczak? I'm calling from XXX Airlines and wanted to let Zoltan Poczak know his flight tonight is delayed..."
Me: "Zoltan is my 2 year old son, he is definitely not on a flight tonight. Can you tell me what kind of credit card was used?"
Woman [says the type, then the last 4 digits, no match for any of ours. We start freaking out anyway. She asks if she can call back on this phone number? Sure]

I start Googling what to do if your child's identity is stolen, and it turns out I have to send to any of the 3 main credit bureaus (1) a copy of his birth certificate; (2) a copy of his social security card; and (3) a copy of my drivers' license.  Um, if my kids' identity has been stolen, how safe am I going to feel sending through the mail the exact items that would enable anyone to more effectively steal his identity?? Let's not even go into the fact that for me, the absolutely fastest FEDEX-type mail i can use still takes close to a month to get to the USA and the option of certified mail is not available to us (once more, the glamor of a foreign service life).

The same woman calls back later and apologizes that it was a misunderstanding. She said some number was similar - it sounded like she was saying the phone numbers on record were similar so I was incredulous: "You're saying there is a another Zoltan Poczak with a similar phone number?"

So now I am thinking she's part of the scam, somehow, because that is just not possible. We freak out some more, try to find any possible way to do something regarding Z's credit life (on a Sunday) and it finally occurs to me to call the airline and see what I can find out.

The only phone number on the entire site is for reservations and even then the automated system made me demand 3 times to speak to a human before it relented. I sorely regret I never caught the name of the woman who answered the call, because she was pretty awesome. I apologized that I wasn't making a reservation but it was the only phone number, explained the story, and explained I wasn't even sure anymore where the fraud lay - did someone from XXX Airline even call us - but that something sketchy was definitely up. She was able to check on that flight and ... it turns out there is a Zoltan with a similar last name who was indeed booked on that flight. He had a traveling companion, same last name, first name none of ours.

What were the odds?

We'll still pursue things with the credit bureaus because it's still sketchy and how did Zoltan's Frequent Flier number get involved (the only way they could have pulled up our phone number), but now it's less of a panic to do it later this summer when we are actually in the USA and where Fedex or registered/certified mail are all options and all take mere days to reach their destinations.

Zoo-riffic

What were the odds? Saturday we went to the zoo for the very first time ever even though we have lived here 3 years. Monday when I come home I'm chatting with our nanny about what she and Zoltan did that day. She had taken him to the zoo and was so surprised he seemed to know exactly where everything was, where to enter the buildings (some had entrances to the side almost behind the building - you had to know where to go).  It's been a zoo-tastic week for big Z!

Shashlik season

The parks are open after the April "drying out" and the weather is increasingly sunny and occasionally warm. As a true Petersburgian, I strive to be outdoors every possible reasonable minute while the sun shines and the temperature crosses the freezing threshold. The best way to do that? Shashlik in the park.

Each of the last 2 weeks we have been able to get out to the park once for dinner, good company for us AND the kids and the freshest air in Tsentralny Rayon (the central region of the city).

Bedtime always gets pushed back on these nights, especially when they are too filthy from playing and ice cream to be put to bed as is. I didn't get good shots of the kids during the evening, but here's Zoltan's poor jacket, victim to his inability to eat ice cream from a stick. Lesson learned - next time we try a cone.

Leningrad Zoo

Budapest it ain't, but it wasn't nearly as traumatic and depressing as I had been led to believe.  Some areas are still from the 1900s and it was hard to even look at the animals caged therein (zebra, wildebeest, I am talking about you), but other areas were sufficient for the animals who were clearly content and even happy. It was interesting to watch the tiger tear into the meat-laden raw limb of something. The petting zoo, always a hit, was full of happy goats - as you can see.

The baby polar bear was cute as can be.

We hadn't known there was a small amusement park inside the zoo. Zoltan wanted a turn on one of the rides for his "treat". Alex got cotton candy - her first - and loved it. We hadn't expected to stay so long but it was a good half day's adventure. We wanted to save things like Elagin with its playground for when Alex can take full advantage of it (maybe even throwing her bike in the trunk to ride the trails  - the No Bikes prohibition does not seem to hold true for little kids).

Some other small victories:

• noting that Skazka Dom, a fairytale museum/experience, it literally next door to the zoo entrance. We're saving that one for a rainy or wintry day as it's indoors, but our friends' kids absolutely loved it and we weren't sure where it was.
• Being able to ask completely grammatically correctly where was the entrance to the zoo, and understanding that the family we asked wanted to know the same thing as the entrance they just passed wasn't yet open.
• Also being able to answer completely correctly directions to the only cotton candy stall actually serving cotton candy when a lady saw Alex eating hers.

Nipple

I am supremely new to "foreign service blogging" as a community. In fact, I am pretty sure my readership is still entirely made up of family. I haven't even put up the standard FS blogger disclaimer because my mom knows I have no official capacity to say anything about anything. I am also pretty new at actually talking about thoughts and opinions on my blog, previously sticking to travelogues and the cute things the kids say and do.

But here's the thing. This is a "Foreign Service blog" anyway. No matter who hears it, thinks it, or believes it. No matter if there isn't a single actual or potential member of the Foreign Service who reads it, has ever read it, or has even heard of it. When one member of the family becomes paid by the US Government to be in the Foreign Service, everyone else is immediately recruited.  What my children and I say and do is being watched (and not just in the spy thriller way). I bite my tongue when, in the USA, I wouldn't. We're not just along for the ride, we are part of it.

One source of frustration for me has always been meeting FS people, either paid or family, who are surprised by some facet of our life that is easily discovered through any of many online or print resources. As an academic at heart, I research everything thoroughly. The more important the issue, the more important is having full access to all relevant facts.

There is a theme here. There is a reason I'm ranting about this in a post entitled Nipple. Gimme a minute.

The #1 reason FSO/FSS leave the Foreign Service is family issues. It costs hundreds of thousands of dollars to train and security clear each person. It's really in everyone's interest to be sure that person intends to stay. If the spouse is unhappy, and said Officer/Specialist still likes said spouse, that staying is less likely.

Blogs are one of the very best ways to learn about the real nitty gritty of FS life. You have hundreds of people writing about their actual daily life. Living "on the economy" is very different from living somewhere as part of the FS community. It matters to know what it's like. It matters to enter an A-100 class with every literate family member having some sense of what's coming up. Because what happens to the Officer/Specialist happens to the family. We get separated and employees go to places where they will be shot at. We DON'T get separated and family members come down with dread diseases, risk kidnapping and muggings on a scale not one USA city can match, or our parents die while we're still on the flight back to be with them during their last days.

One member of our community, one of the earliest and best Foreign Service Bloggers, was recently removed from the blogroll State uses as a recruitment tool. Jen Dinoia's story is here and here. The gist is, receiving the diagnosis of breast cancer while your husband is on an unaccompanied tour is too personal and not FS enough. One specific example of inappropriate content was her mention of "nipple cozies". The odd thing is that the story itself, how DOS let her husband curtail from an AIP assignment, found him a job in DC to be with her throughout the ordeal, and MED working to find a suitable onward assignment the entire family could go to, is a great recruitment tool - a story of how State put families first.

Here's some more bloggers who are writing about this in solidarity with Jen, much more eloquently that I have.

Here's from Life After Jerusalem: What makes a blog an FS blog?
And Connie at Whale Ears and Other Wonderings: Not FS Enough
And Sadie Abroad: Nippletastic: A Rant for FS Bloggers
And Noble Glomads: Don't tell us who is relevant to us
And The Wandering Drays: "Nipped in the blog"
And Well That was Different: It's the Little Things
Four Globetrotters: Nipples, Nipples, Everywhere
dp's Blog gives us: I guess I'm not as important as I once assumed

Alex is too clever

So, Alex broke her arm about a week ago. Since then things have been interesting:

- Since the break she has been asking for help getting dressed. Especially getting shirts over the cast, I had assumed she needed assistance. Last week was a holiday Monday through Wednesday, then Thursday was her doctor's checkup so her first day of school was Friday, and I picked her up before naptime. Monday was her first full day back. She loves gym class, and it's the last class of the day so I made sure to get to school before class as I knew she couldn't participate. Imagine my surprise when I got to school and found her all dressed and ready for gym!  I asked the teacher if she was able to participate and she started laughing. No, of course not. What happened was that when all the other kids got changed for gym, Alex just got herself changed too. Little sneak!

But wait, it gets better.

Monday evening around or after dinner time she started complaining that her leg hurt. Like with her arm, there's no outward sign of anything wrong, no swelling, discoloration, she can wriggle her foot and toes. Nobody had witnessed anything that could have caused it and Alex kept saying she didn't remember what she did or when it started. Suspicious. We put her to bed.

The next morning she keeps it up. VERY consistent. Continually refusing to put any weight on her leg, complaining it hurts to much, etc. I tell her we'll have to go to the doctor and get an x-ray on her leg if it hurts so much. I call the Consulate doctor at 8:30am to ask what to do. In the end, the Consulate doctor says she'd be more comfortable if the same doctor who did the last x-rays did these and he didn't work until 6pm so we'd have to have the appointment then. Alex says she doesn't hurt when she just sits, only when she puts weight on the foot. I tell the nanny to get her to the park, she can stay in the stroller if she hurts. My nanny offers to bring us to a regular (public) clinic and we can get an x-ray for 200 rubles. I say it's OK, we'll wait til 6pm. She suggests we bandage the leg for more support. I find an Ace bandage (talk about being prepared!) and we wrap it up. Alex is now willing to put a teensy bit of weight on her leg and says it helps a little. I head out to work, only 1/2 hour late.

A couple of hours later my nanny texts me "We are in the playground. Alex forgets about her leg." One hour later "I took off the elastic, Alex complains it's too tight, now she is walking around the house normal."

That little bugger. But wait, it gets even better.

I come home at night and she's on the floor playing with something. When the nanny leaves she gets up and STARTS LIMPING.

She's only 4. How will we survive her teenage years?

Victory Day

May 8 commemorates the day that WWII ended in Europe. As the capitulation document was signed after midnight Moscow time, May 9 is Victory Day in Russia.

In St Petersburg, there is a memorial ceremony on May 8 at Piskaryovskoye Memorial Cemetery. This is the cemetery where about 420,000 civilians and 50,000 soldiers of the Leningrad Front were buried in 186 mass graves.

At this memorial ceremony the full panoply of military, religious and diplomatic representatives are present and all members of the diplomatic corps lay wreaths. As it would be unseemly for the Consul General to carry his own wreath, volunteers are needed to carry it. Terry and I both volunteered and we both got the job.

We'd never been to the cemetery before, and it was of course one of those days that makes death all the more poignant - clear, sunny, warm in the sun and cool in the shade. Trees were starting to bud and some green leaves promised flowers to come. The ceremony was solemn and emotionally moving, very simple and of course we didn't really understand much of it. Our attention was largely focused on not dropping the wreath, which was not overwhelmingly heavy but awkward to carry. I am happy to say it made its way to its final resting place intact.

Then comes the surreal part. One of the honorary consuls general (a Russian) invited all the other diplomats to his car for a drink. Note I don't think it was quite noon yet, or maybe just on the other side. When we arrived we found a table set up with vodka, wine and zakuski (appetizers/snack, such as blini, pickles, tea-type sandwiches). There were many toasts that Terry and I are happily insignificant enough that nobody cared whether we drank or not, so we each got away with nursing a glass of wine.

Basically, we tailgated the memorial service. Woot woot to Russia!

Happy Mother's Day

It's now the tail end of Mother's Day.  This is how I celebrated it, thanks to the hilarious and fabulous ladies at Rants from Mommyland:

1.I donated to World Birth Aid (http://worldbirthaid.org/) in my mother's name. This was her Mother's Day gift. I promise she didn't get shafted, she got a great gift that lets her shove her adorable grandchildren in anyone's face at anytime - a brag/charm bracelet with their photos.

The organization does one thing, make and distribute Clean Birth Kits to mothers without access to proper sanitation to avoid post-birth infection, which often leads to death. A whopping 1 in 13 women in sub-Saharan Africa die post-childbirth due to complications during and after childbirth. For comparison, in industrialized nations that number is 1 in 4,100.

2.I signed up to give another momma the Mother's Day she was due. A bunch of the other Rants readers made super awesome gift boxes full of personalized stationary, or bath salts and lip gloss, or thoughtful handwritten cards giving encouragement.  Me? I live overseas and mail takes a month to hit the States. I had a week to organize and deliver something. So ... Starbucks gift card from me. With a Twitter-sized card allotment, so I couldn't say much more than Happy Mother's Day. But, she'll get it and hopefully she'll get it as I called myself her Mother Pucker which only makes sense if you know about the Mother Pucker project.  And now you can read all about it.

3. Terry made waffles for breakfast, Alex put on a sock with a heart on it because she loves me, I got to go to Ikea and buy stuff I wanted that Terry very much didn't want and he didn't argue with me at all, and I got a nap.  I got hyacinth plants for International Women's Day and a handmade card from Alex back then so I can't really complain about Mother's Day. It was everything I wanted or needed.

Math major

Alex has trouble falling asleep. Usually I tell her to think of all the words she knows that start with A, then B, then C etc til she gets sleepy. Tonight she didn't want to do that so I told her to do addition tables, i.e., 1+1, 1+2, 1+3 etc up to 10, then 2+2, 2+3 etc.

She's 4!

Of course, one of the other October kids read a book today. Honest-to-goodness new book he'd never seen before, at the library. He's always been the smarty-pants of the bunch.

Adventure and Mis-Adventure Vilnius: Sightseeing

Our main purpose for traveling to Vilnius was to spend time with our good friends, but of course one must go touristing when one visits a new city.  On Friday we attempted to take a bus tour. On the company's web site the pickup time is listed as 10:30am. On the brochure we had, the pickup time is 10:30am. On the ad on our taxi's video monitor as we left the city, the pickup time is listed as 10:30am.

At 10:20am we met our friend at Town Hall Square (5 minutes from the hotel) and went to the pickup location. Pickup time: 10:15am. Grrrr. So we went on our own tour with me reading the Vilnius guide book out loud and my friend driving us around.

Here's the brick masterpiece of St Anne's Church.

Here's Cathedral Square.

And some random kitty cats

As mentioned previously, on what turned out to be a blistering hot Saturday my friend filled her car with us and her children and we jaunted out to Trakai Castle. Here it is:

On also-hot Sunday we attempted to visit the Museum of Genocide Victims, housed in the former KGB headquarters. For some  reason, I successfully go arts-ing (museums, ballet, etc) with my children individually, but when the whole family is together it's chaos.  The stone blocks that form the building's outer walls have the names of the individuals who died in that place and their birth and death carved into the rock. I really wanted to get some photos but there was too much hysteria.  The museum was interesting and definitely worth even the mere 30 minutes we spent there.

Lastly, here's Terry carrying the kids off into the sunset on our last night there, at Belmontas restaurant. It's what Karl & Friedrich in Piter wishes it could be.

Pretty little princess

I asked my mom to send some light cotton summer dresses for Alex to wear. To the park, the playground, that kind of thing. Here's Alex modelling her favorite one.

And of course, whatever Alex does Zoltan must do too.

I admit, he's got a good curtsey. Think he's ready for an audience with the Queen?

Rite of Passage

Our poor Alex. Yesterday evening she ran into the kitchen to give me some good news (she won a game with Terry) and slipped in her slippery socks and fell, using her arm to break the fall. She complained of the pain, except for when the TV was on. No swelling, no discoloration, she could move her fingers. Figuring she just banged it hard, we gave her Motrin and ice packs and we did dinner, bath and bed.

This morning she continually vacillated between "mommy I hurt so much" and "it doesn't hurt at all" so once it was late enough to call a doctor at home on Sunday I called the Consulate doctor to confer with her. She advised we wait and see for a few more hours and we did, eventually deciding to get an x-ray. She called the clinic that was walking distance from our apartment, set it up and called me back to say they were there and waiting for us. I pack a bag, throw Alex in the stroller and we race down there. We get to the reception area and the girls there have no idea who we are, who we're there to see or why we're there (they do speak English so it wasn't my bad Russian) I eventually have to call our doctor again to put her on the phone with the receptionists and they do indeed find me in their system.

The doctor came out, asked "shto slushilas?" (what happened) and between Russian and pantomime I think he understood that she ran and slipped and fell. He felt her arm and said we'd go for the x-ray. Of course Alex was very nervous but she was brave and did everything the doctors said to do. They let me stay in the room with her too, which helped a lot. The picture came right up on the screen in the room and they showed me the fracture. The doctor even said "fracture" so I am pretty sure that's what it is.

He then said something to the effect that they didn't need to do anything, just the arm needs  .... and then pantomime of something around the arm. I asked "splint"? and he said yes. Turns out that was a miscommunication because he meant that she didn't need surgery and she only needed a cast. So he was probably amused when I asked if she needed to wear it all the time.

He led us to a hallway with a bunch of clusters of chairs in front of doors and said something I didn't quite catch, so I asked Alex if she'd understood. "Yes, he told us to sit down." I am sure she hears that command a few times a day at sadik! so I figured she was probably right. And she was. They put the cast on, which was another nerve-fest for Alex but I held her good hand and she clung to the stuffed animal she'd brought and we made it through. She has to wear a cast practically up to her armpit for 2 weeks, then they can cut off the part from the elbow up and she has to wear the shorter cast for 2 more weeks.

One thing I will say - from the moment the cast went on she had not once complained about pain.

From the minute I walked out of my house to the minute I walked back in was a bit over 2 hours. Not bad for what was essentially an ER visit on Sunday afternoon.

Adventure and Mis-Adventure Vilnius: Posh (or not)

As mentioned previously, the Stikliai is a fancy hotel. Beautiful. When Secretary of State Clinton came to Vilnius, she stayed here. When my friend mentioned to a friend of hers we were staying there, the friend mused we must be posh. Ha!

I guess we joked about being "not-posh" too much. The night before we checked out, as we were on our way out to dinner the lady behind the desk asked when we would leave the next day to get a sense of our checking out needs. I mentioned we had to go early. She then said to me with a "particular" tone of voice, Queen Latifah head roll and much eye blinking "Well, how were you planning to pay?"

W. T. F.???????

I restrained myself from strangling her right there and simply said I had assumed there would be someone at reception at 7am to process our checkout.

Does this hotel really have a history of deadbeats? What was it about us that made her question our intention or ability to cover our hotel bill?

Every single other member of that hotel's staff treated us professionally, graciously, and kindly. They all smiled at the kids when we walked through the lobby. I hate that one damn fool had to mar such a special experience.

The kicker is that while we were out that night the airline called us to say the flight was cancelled and we were re-booked on the earlier flight (6:00am). We decided we really should do the checkout that night when we returned as there may not be someone available to process us at 4:30am. Terry went down and spoke with a different woman. She assured him that she herself would be at the desk at 4:30 and would happily process us then and we could call to have our bags picked up when we were ready (it did in fact take the bellboy all of 5 minutes to get to our apartment after we called).  This makes the first woman's comment and attitude all the more WTF?

Uzupis

My friends live in this neighborhood of Vilnius called Uzupis. Well, it may be a neighborhood. It may also be a neighboring country, as Uzupis announced its secession from Lithuania on April 1, 1997.  The region celebrates its independence day on April 1 and has its 41 point constitution posted in several different languages along a brick wall. Provisions include the serious: "Everyone has the right to hot water, heating in winter and a tiled roof." and the less serious: "A cat is not obliged to love its master, but it must help him in difficult times." The full Constitution is here.  Here I am reading it:

The most famous monument is the Angel of Uzupis...

Like in Russia, the custom of married couples locking a padlock on the wrought iron of one of the bridges is alive and well. We even saw one that was particularly special to us.

After our sightseeing, we stopped at a random cafe (Uzupio Picerija) for a snack. Who knew? We each got what were essentially blini and they were fabulously delicious. Thus fortified, we headed over to Tibet Square, a little park right by the bridge out of Uzupis that has Tibetan prayer flags all about as well as some sweet wooden swings hanging from several trees.

Adventure and Mis-adventure Vilnius: Prologue

We wanted to check out Vilnius and visit friends there. We booked a flight. We spent more time than we should have researching apartments to rent, going back and forth with our friend who lives there about locations and other issues.  We finally booked a place with Apartments Inn (www.apartmentsinn.eu). We paid our deposit.

Fast forward to 7 days prior to travel. I'm tidying up loose ends and realize I never wrote back to the place letting them know what time we're arriving, so I send a quick message. The reply:  Oops. We never booked the place for you, someone else is in it right now and won't leave before you get here.

Panic.

They added that they do have another apartment available, but it's on the other side of town and had other inconveniences. We're pretty much up the creek so we say OK I guess we have to take it, but it would be nice to get some compensation for the trouble.  They offer a measly 5 Euro per night discount on an apartment that is more expensive than the one we were going to stay in AND didn't meet our needs as well as the first one.

We spend all the free time we have for 2 days trying to find something else. We realize if this is the service we're receiving from this place before even arriving, what can we expect when we get there. We cancel and request our deposit back.  We book at the Stikliai, which has apartments as part of its hotel. We realize we're going to pay more than twice what we had planned to pay for our housing.

What we didn't realize yet was that it would be totally worth it! Here are some photos of the place:

The courtyard outside our apartment

The living room and kitchen. Why yes, that is granite on the counters.And a whole bunch of pretty glass tchotchkas along the top of the cabinets that were once within easy range of little fingers.

Our bedroom had pillars. Need I say more?

Adventure and Mis-Adventure Vilnius: Zoltan

Part I:
On Saturday we filled the Sequoia and headed to Trakai, famous for its castle on a lake, its Turkish Jewish history, and its meat pies (kibinas). Other than the oppressive heat, everyone was pretty happy. The kids picked dandelions, the adults took photos of the castle and the kids.

We took refuge in the shade of trees just on the waterline. Zoltan had been gathering rocks and throwing them into the lake.

He had two fistfuls and started to run headlong toward the water. Before anyone could stop him, the land stopped but he didn't. I was doing something else and suddenly was met with the view of a hysterical screaming Zoltan being carried by Terry and clearly dripping wet from the armpits down. Still clutching two fistfuls of rocks, that he continued to hold onto throughout the next steps.

We quickly undress him and get his sweatshirt on (we had just finally convinced him to take it off moments beforehand ...) As Terry was putting a new diaper on, our friend was in quiet conversation with her youngest, who's the same age as Alex. She had worn a dress with leggings that day, and the leggings were quickly stripped off and Zoltan had his new outfit. You can see that he did recover from his trauma to enjoy the rest of the day.

He did finally drop the rocks, too.

Part II:
The next morning we were heading out. The kids had been arguing whether we should take the elevator or stairs. Zoltan seems to have no love for the elevator - he always asks to hold someone's hand whenever we're in it. BUT he does love to press those buttons. In the end the decision was made to take the stairs so Terry and I head off to the right, while the kids are still by the elevator to the left. We hear screaming. This is not as unusual as one would hope so we just yell over our shoulder to Alex "Why is Zoltan crying?" as she is usually the cause. Alex appears by our side. We realize Zoltan is still screaming. *#&^(@*&^  He pushed the button, got into the elevator, then the door closed. He was alone and trapped.

Luckily it's a small hotel and nobody had called the elevator in the 10 seconds it took to get there and press the button to "call" it and thus open the doors. Obviously, we took the stairs that morning.

Tallinn Airport

Since having children, most factors involved in travel have taken on a whole new rating scale. If it makes my life easier - super! Historical or esthetic value have taken a back seat to comfort, convenience and most of all: keeping the kids happy and quiet.

Tallinn airport, oh how I love thee!  You are so adorably small and yet in our collective 10 hours within your walls we had to turn on Dora for all of 45 minutes.

These are some of the reasons why:

Cadets on the move

Something you don't see every day in the metro: a group of what looked like cadets or new recruits, anyway they all looked 12, all wearing the uniforms and coats of something military and each with a duffel bag at his feet. They were standing in formation, 4 deep and maybe 10 across? Waiting for the metro. It's been a long time since I wished I had my camera on me. Using my phone didn't even occur to me as there was no way Terry would have let me post a photo of the anticipated poor quality it would have been. So I leave it to your imagination.

Take Your Child to Work Day

The official date of Take Your Children to Work Day for 2012 is April 26. To coincide with spring break, however, I organized the Consulate's first ever TYCTWD on April 11.

It all started like this: one of the FSOs sent me a message saying "Hey, are you planning anything for TYCTWD"? It was 2 weeks prior to what eventually became the date for the event. I hadn't even thought of it. I thought there would be no interest at all - maybe some parents would be interested to bring their kids but none of the staff who would need to help me pull it off would want to take the time out of their busy schedules. We're a very small post - not just in size of personnel but in terms of physical size. No lunchroom. No "grounds". No Marines (most of the fun stuff happens with Marines).

All the other CLOs were talking about it on our listserv as many embassies and the State Department in general take the event very seriously. So I browsed some ideas, talked with some of the staff (ones who have kids of their own were the first as they also had a vested interest in keeping them entertained during the week off) and in 24 hours had put together a small program and sent out the dual-language invitation to all staff to register their children for the event.

I was pretty sure I couldn't handle more than about a dozen kids. In the end I took 14 and we had a wait list half as long. So much for no interest!

There were, as always, a couple of hiccups as I had not communicated clearly what I wanted from everyone. I don't think the kids noticed. One interesting observation - we had 2 main parts of the program: getting fingerprinted with RSO and having a visa interview with Consular. We had split the kids into 2 groups to make it easier to manage and to lessen the downtime for them. In each group, I noted the employees involved in the event were much more "showman-y" with the 2nd time. More relaxed/communicative/did more stuff with them. I think the adults had initially underestimated how interested the kids would be in their jobs.

Heck, I won't even be doing this job next year, but I am already planning how to make next year's event even better (and able to accommodate all the kids who want to come).

Having a visa interview

Getting fingerprinted

Fashion Week

So this post won't do much for dispelling the rumors of our high-falutin' fancy pants diplomatic lives.

It was Aurora Fashion Week in Piter, and the Consulate was able to score some tickets. Some friends and I went. It should go without saying this was my first fashion show, and I had no idea what to expect.

An American, Thom Browne, was the headliner and the main show. At 11:00pm. So Russian! We went a bit early to check out the place and other shows but TB was our main purpose. The first show we went to went like this: The show was to start at 9:00pm. Around 9:00pm we wandered over to the crowd of people massed together like Indians at the train station and started weaving our way towards the front. We got as close as we could then waited, crushed alongside the other 100 or so people like Japanese getting into the subway. When the bouncers finally started letting people, the 4 of us who'd gone together got a bit separated but only for moments and eventually we all squeezed through. We even found seating for 3 of us, which was fine as only 3 of us were in heels.

The show itself ... first 4 men in shorts and T shirts, then 4 women in similar gym attire (with super high heels). Sweatshirts .... nothing interesting. Nothing very pretty. One of my friends couldn't get over how unappealing the models were. In sum, maybe worth it to have the experience but certainly not worth our time. We had thought initially that when we got into the show we'd just stay put so we could keep our seats for the next show, but everyone had to clear the room between shows.

We decided to skip the 10:00pm show and save our energies for Thom so we went to get a drink and while milling about we found some more people we knew, including the guy who got us the tickets who was in the VIP section. He did eventually come slumming and hang out with us for a while, and when it came time to line up for TB he invited one of my friends to go with him. Good thing for her as she's the only one of us who saw anything. We got back into the scrum, which at first seemed smaller and calmer than the previous one but after 30-40 minutes of jostling we decided we didn't care that much and our feet hurt so went to get another drink and sit down.

About 15 minutes after we'd settled down - and been checking the progress of the show on the video monitors 20 feet from where we sat - a crowd began to fill into the area where we sat. I recognized some of the people who'd been standing near us; most of the crowd never got in to see the show. We should have quit earlier but at least we got some comfy seating from bailing as early as we did. At least we could watch the show on the video monitors when our conversation didn't take our attention away.

We decided to skip the after-party, figuring it would involve as much standing, waiting and being crushed as the shows had and after one aborted attempt (turns out some bars actually close for Easter. This place isn't as heathen as some might think!) we settled in for some food and beer at the Telegraph. Good wife that I am, I noted they carry 2 Scotches T likes although we could buy a bottle through PJs for the price of a glass.

I got home at 2:30am, which I never do as wake-up time is wake-up time no matter what bedtime was. The kids miraculously slept til 8:00am. I guess daddy being away affected them more than I had thought - which means he's never allowed to travel without us again!

Chaos

It's funny that this month's Blog Roundup topic is "Chaos." Terry's been away this week so I have been single mom, plus I had 2 events at work, 2 IWC-related events and 3 Russian classes - each one of which required preparation, organization, and stress until the thing concluded successfully. And it's Passover so my food choices and severely limited. To top things off, for some reason the cloth diapers decided this was the week to start repelling liquids.

I knew the kids would be acting up more, feeling cutoff from daddy's attention and being unable to articulate their worries (will he ever come back?) In the morning I was able to "zen" my way through it even though Z was waking at 6:30am. At the end of the day my patience was not in such sharp focus and the kids got put to bed more abruptly than usual on more than one night, and paid me back for it by not settling down until 9:00pm (an hour after being put down). I drank more liquor and ate more ice cream this week than I usually do, even breaking into the Maker's Mark that T asks me not to use as I dilute it with ginger ale anyway.

I'm lucky the nannies do laundry and the house cleaner comes on Thursdays or things would have been really, really dire around here.

T came back yesterday and I went out last night. The kids were silent before 8:30pm and woke this morning at 8:00am. I guess with daddy home they were more relaxed and able to sleep better?

Shoot, was I supposed to say something productive?

Massive Parenting Fail

Tonight when I put Alex to bed I promised to come back and check on her - usually I do that 5-10 minutes later.

On the computer during those 10 minutes, I saw a video I'd been waiting for - a panel discussion on "Building Resilience in Foreign Service Kids" - was uploaded. 40 minutes later Alex is on the potty and yelling for me.

Oops.

Anyway, here's the video.

My first seder

This is not literally my first seder; that one occurred pre-memory. This one is the first seder I've prepared. In Malta I was pretty irreligious, here in Petersburg we had Orthodox friends to visit on Passover. This year I've made matzah, charoset, potato kugel, meringue for dessert, and will soon throw the lamb into the oven. As the kids are 2 and 4 I have printed out the "30 Minute Seder". I've made sure we have horseradish, grape juice for the kids' wine glasses, and discovered celery can sub for the parsley I forgot to buy at the store. And I have an orange.

I remember in college meeting a floormate who was also Jewish (not exactly a novelty at Columbia) and she said her parents were pretty agnostic until she was old enough to start asking questions, and then they joined a synagogue and started going on Friday nights. Now that I have a 4 year old I totally understand those parents, although I am hesitant to try to seek out the only not-Orthodox congregation in the city - differentiated from the only Orthodox congregation (not too many Jews left in Russia) - and highly doubt the service would be understandable to me anyway. There's also the internal battle of "what do I want to teach my children"?

In the USA it's easy. I find a congregation I like, enroll my kids in Hebrew School and basically let someone else do the heavy lifting. The synagogue would organize the Sukkot, Hanukkah and Purim festivities and there would be friends we'd meet to plan a joint seder together. Being overseas requires a deeper involvement. Alex will ask a lot of questions tonight and I know I won't have the answers. Wish me luck!

Where do clothes come from?

Alex, all excited, told me the other day two of her girlfriends at school had "skirts made from jeans." I told her if she really wanted, we could get her one. She got confused. "How can we do that?"

My 4 year old daughter has never, in her entire life, gone into a store for the purpose of purchasing clothing. We have amazing friends with well-placed children (each one about 2 years older than my kids, along gender lines) so we get boxes of hand-me-downs during Home Leave that we ship to the next post. To fill in the gaps we either buy online or my mom shops and sends stuff to us. Very rarely I've needed to buy locally but even then it's a solo trip. Clothes come home with mommy or daddy from work or we get them from boxes in the storage closet.

I can't quite decide if this is fabulous or tragic.

Friday Adventure

Zoltan's nannies are fabulous, as I've mentioned a few times. Among other things, they take him all over the town, and he's been to museums I don't even know the location of. Lately he's been transiting the city via "rolly-bus", aka trolleybus. Alex has become envious.

With this in mind, I decided to keep Alex home Friday and have an adventure. We went down to Nevskiy and popped onto the first trolleybus we saw (#7). It was pretty crowded and Alex, in the underneath part, couldn't see much but the kids were thrilled anyway. At one point we passed some former palace or mansion and it had Greek style statues adorning it. Zoltan yelled out "Mommy, they're maykin'd (naked)" One lady standing by us started giggling. I think she understood English.

We got out at the last stop as the stroller was too big and the bus too crowded to get out earlier. We ended at ploschad Truda so I had some sense of where we were. I had thought we'd head to the Neva as Zoltan loves water but he started complaining of being cold - I didn't have the fight in me to force him into his snowpants when he refused to put them on in the morning. So instead we headed toward Nevskiy with a short stop for photos with St Isaac's while the kids enjoyed their snacks.

On the way home we got onto a regular bus (avtobus) and were positioned right by the door so this time Alex could see stuff. All in all they were pretty stoked with the day. Of course it began with TV (Charlie and Lola, the first time they watched one) and ended with a play date so there's little to complain about.

Passover preparations

The joys of overseas life! Not like I didn't know Passover was coming, but here I was with 6 days left - no matzah and no menu. Kudos to the internet: I found a "30 Minute Seder" plus a full seder's worth of recipes, all ingredients of which can be found locally. And, surprisingly, a matzah recipe! (this one: http://allrecipes.com/recipe/matzah/detail.aspx)

Of course, if I could find specially supervised flour here I would also be able to find mass produced matzah*, so mine aren't technically kosher for Passover. Given my level of observance of late, though, this is definitely a step up.

* = OK, OK, the Grand Choral Synagogue store probably has matzah just as they had Hanukkah candles, but I wasn't going to have any opportunity to get there before Friday.

Fabulous resource for studying Russian

I'm kind of a dork, and I'm OK with that. I study Russian not only because it's my only hope for ever having gainful, continuous employment but because the language has completely sunk its nails into me (why didn't it do this 10 years ago when my brain actually wanted to hold things like genative case and perfective verbs?). Anyhoo ...

This site was recommended by someone on the chat group for FSO hopefuls: http://nclrc.org/webcasts/russian/

It totally rocks my world. It gives super short (a couple of minutes) broadcasts of current events in Russian spoken slowly and clearly. It has a glossary to go with each broadcast. It has listening comprehension exercises at the end. These broadcasts have been going on since 2004. There are about 100 of them. By the time I finish them all I should be able to listen to news on TV or radio.

Yippeeeee

Mommy's favorite game

I posted this on Facebook, but that doesn't provide a lasting memory and this one is too good to forget.

Alex: Mommy, I want to play a game with you. What's your favorite game?
Me: Cleanup
Alex: What's your next most favorite game?

Molochovets

I can't believe I never wrote about this! On the corner of the street where we live is a beautiful, special occasion type restaurant called Molochovets Mechta (Molochovets' Dream). It had been recommended by some major foodies, but for some reason our first 2.5 years here we continually gave it a skip. Then we decided to go for my birthday dinner the night before my birthday.

[reprinted from a report I gave a friend about dinner right afterwards - I certainly wouldn't remember all the details now!] Dinner started with an amuse bouche of a smoked fish that's like salmon but not exactly (syomga), then I had a salad that was shredded apple and celery with smoked duck (the dressing was mayo/creamy) and Terry had solyanka. There was sorbet to cleanse the palate, I think it was champagne but couldn't 100% be sure. Main for me was a local fish that's like a Zander (same family as a walleye) in a simple butter sauce and fried cauliflower and T had moose in a berry sauce (he wanted the venison but they were out). The fish was amazing, we have never been able to cook it to taste like anything so I was excited to see what a pro chef would do. I was clearly the winner that night as Terry enjoyed the solyanka but reports it isn't as good as the CGR chef's version, and the moose wasn't exactly what he wanted.

I was stuffed after that but Terry ordered vanilla ice cream. Home made. We had cappuccinos and were just sort of hanging out because we didn't want to go anywhere and it hadn't been enough time in our minds to make it worth our nanny's while, so eventually I made some room in my belly and had chocolate ice cream. mmmmmm. then i was up til 3am - I blame the cappuccino.

Our second round was in honor of Terry's birthday, a bit belated as I had the flu that week. That night I tried the schi (very strange as it was written as "sorrel soup" in the English menu) and the halibut; Terry had an apple and berry salad and veal loin with blue cheese sauce. His starter was fine but nothing special but the veal was perfect - Terry didn't love the sauce but it's incidental anyway to the cut and cooking of the meat. Again we had an amuse bouche, it was a mushroom pate (veggie in honor of Lent - they actually had a Lent menu) My meal was fine on both counts but neither course was as good as the last time. I finished with hot chocolate, the super awesome Russian kind that is thick and tastes like like a melted chocolate bar. It was the perfect amount and perfect ending for me, although my favorite hot chocolate in the city is still Guell's.

Sleeping Beauty on Ice

Alex and I, as well as some friends and their daughters, went to see Sleeping Beauty on Ice. It was performed at the Rimskogo-Korsakova Conservatory, not at any of the ice arenas, which was a bit interesting.

The costumes were beautiful and the skating very pretty. I liked how they kept pretty true to the ballet. I really thought Alex would get into it, as she's been ice skating and her instructor used to be an ice ballerina not too long ago.

Nope, she prefers "real" ballet to this. She even prefers hockey to ice ballet. Maybe she's a purist.

It's Spring, sort of

In Piter the temperatures have been frequently (but not always!) above freezing, leading to ice underlying veritable pools of melting snow. The other day started with snow, moved into sleet, then hail, finally settling on rain. That became snow again by bedtime.

It probably doesn't need saying, but this is NOT the most wonderful time of the year.

This is what happens during naptime

... when we don't actually nap. RIP rainbow slinky.

Small victories

Russian is a difficult language to master. The more I learn the more I realize I don't know. I'm pained when I hear an FSO with a 3/3 or 4/4 tell me that they don't feel comfortable with the language or don't know how to say something simple (of course, at FSI there is a very different focus on what vocabulary is taught, but still ... a "high school graduate level speaker" should be able to buy curtains!)

Terry and I were lucky to get into the 8 week language program before heading to Russia, we learned useful basics such as how to ask directions or buy 2 kilos of apples at the market. As importantly, we learned what likely responses would be to such questions. Once hitting the ground we got into the 2h/week language class and practiced reading billboards and signs. All in all, not much instruction. I probably only got to class half the time between the whole newborn-who-doesn't-sleep thing and later the job-gets-in-the-way-of-personal-activities thing.

Then I passed the FSOA. I need those language points now! Upon my return to Russia last summer I became more diligent in class attendance, asked my teacher to give me supplemental homework, and basically kicked it into high gear. Of course, the rest of life still marched on and I still didn't get much more than 1h/day of Russian study.

I've been studying Russian with varying intensity for 3 years now.

Two weeks ago, I made a restaurant reservation without once slipping into English. This week, I reserved tickets to a performance over the phone ("Sleeping Beauty" Ballet on Ice, I hope Alex enjoys it and gets motivated to go back to skating!) also entirely in Russian. This one was more complex as I was asking for specific seats and also needed to figure out where to obtain the physical tickets. I picked up the tickets yesterday and they are exactly the seats I thought I ordered and cost the exact price I thought they should!

If I put as much effort into learning Spanish as I have in learning Russian, I'd be pretty darn fluent by now. But my small victories are sustaining me in my quest for basic literacy.

Our kids like sausage.

We have some sausage fans in our house.  As you can see in the video below.

Chocolate money

Terry and I were out tonight so it was up to my nanny to watch the kids this evening. We give Zoltan chocolate when he uses the potty when he's got underpants on (he prefers to go commando so we're working on encouraging underpants). I forgot to reload the chocolate so our nanny went out and bought some today. It was chocolate coins.

So, the evening passes, he uses the potty, and the nanny gives him and Alex their coins (to avoid the drama we just give her a treat when he gets one). Alex understands immediately what it is and peels the foil off to get to the chocolate. You'd think after the number of times I have read Silverlicious to these children that Zoltan would also figure it out.

Nope. The nanny is distracted talking to Alex right after giving out the coins so she misses that Zoltan has left the room. Until he comes back yelling "pinky bank! pinky bank!"

Yep, the chocolate went into the piggy bank.

European capitals

One of those "only in the Foreign Service" moments: a friend had Game Night and we were playing Outburst! The topic was European Capital Cities. Of course we got all 10 but the funny part was that before the last one we thought of - Athens - we had yelled out Bucharest, Tirana, Pristina, Tallinn, Riga, Vilnius, Lublijana, Budapest, and Valletta. None of those, of course, were on the list.

And of all the capitals to forget about until the end, it was the one most in the news right now. Doh!

The coolest shared-babysitting plan ever

We have new neighbors in our apartment building. They have kids older, younger, and similar ages as our kids. As has already been mentioned, barriers break down quickly in the foreign service - if you only have 2 years to be friends with someone (or less!) you waste less time finding out if you want to be friends.

The wife suggested a babysitting exchange: after the kids go to bed one evening, we go out while one of them comes down and stays with the kids. Another night one of us travels the stairway to do the same. We had our first test this weekend, when Terry and I went out for a belated birthday dinner (I inconveniently had the flu over his birthday weekend, even on the big day itself. I guess it's lucky that he doesn't think it's any big deal. He went to the hockey game that night anyway). We were worried because the night before Zoltan had been up about a million times before our bedtime, so I was ready for that "he won't stop screaming" phone call. Nope, the kids didn't make a peep all night.

This weekend will be our turn to monitor a sleeping house. Keep fingers crossed for us that it works out as well as the first run.

I know in the USA - where babysitters are exorbitantly expensive, at least compared to here - friends may not live bathrobe-and-slippers-commute close, but I do think it is a brilliant way for couples to get a bit of alone time outside the house. At first, Terry said he didn't want to do it too often because we can't necessarily afford to go out all the time. My perspective is different: if we do this regularly, there's no pressure to "do something special because we're paying a nanny for this". We can just take a walk, check out an art gallery, get shwarma and sit in the park.

Now that's something different

In April Terry and I will have been a couple of 12 years. That feels like a long time. And in all that time, one particular phenomenon has been a constant: if we both get sick with something, regardless of who got it first, he ALWAYS gets it worse. This means I'm the one who has to keep life going because I'm healthier.

Another constant of my life had been, until the last 3 years, that I don't get the flu. For about 15 years this held true. One of the last two winters we both had the flu and had to call in a nanny on a Friday, or maybe it was a Saturday. In any case we were equally useless and grateful to have someone who could care for our children because they don't have a 10 hour appetite for TV.

Until this week. Because I don't get the flu, I don't get the flu shot. Everyone else in my family did. Hence, I am the only sick one. It's been so long I didn't even remember what the symptoms were or how long it's supposed to take to feel better - I had to look them up.

Next year I will get the flu shot, promise!

Happy Defenders Day

Today is Defenders Day (the full name is Defender of the Fatherland Day).  This is a Russian Holiday to celebrate the men who served in defense of Russia/Soviet Union.  It is a Soviet hold over holiday.  There is more information here.  This is not to be confused with Defenders Day in Maryland.  So in preparation for the holiday Alex's deski sad class made little tanks to give their fathers.  As you can see from the picture.  Originally it had a piece of candy inside for the father's, but Alex ate the piece and left the wrapper.  This morning she kept telling me that she was giving me trash for my present. I guess it is fitting since I never defended Russia from a foreign invader.

Ice Museum

Back in December I saw a fascinating advert for the "Ice Fairy Tale". Constructed outside of a shopping center in the southern part of Petersburg, it boasted a winter fairyland including bell towers, a maze, snow maidens, and evil sorcerers all built out of over 1000 tons of ice and 300 tons of snow.

I wanted to go over Christmas long weekend. I wanted to go during the 10 days of New Year's holiday. It was going on through March so we kept postponing and postponing. This week is fabulous - two holidays! Monday was an American holiday so Terry and I had a "date day" and Thursday is a Russian holiday - no preschool - so we decided to do a family day. We asked another family with kids our kids' ages if they wanted to come too and we caravan-ed out to the mall.

A few navigational hiccups later, we arrived at the place. It definitely looked a bit disappointing from the outside, which was frustrating as we spent about 20-30 minutes extra in the car (due to said hiccups). But then we went inside. It was amazing. You can see our kids sitting on a throne made of ice. Unfortunately, my husband claims almost none of the other photos came out :( There was a huge heart in ice all studded with flowers on the inside, that was my favorite. There was also a maze of ice blocks, about the height of a 1st grader so the adults could look over the whole thing and keep an eye on their kids but the kids got to wander and get "lost".



The outdoor ice slide was a bit disappointing as it was near freezing today so the melt erased any amount of slickness it originally had.


There was also a 2 tiered slide made from linoleum stapled to a wooden structure. We totally are making this at the cabin! My friend and I each went down this one with one of our kids. We thought our coats were long enough to keep our bottoms dry through the slide and onto the ground. Ooops!

After the outdoor fun, we went in the mall for lunch. The kids got Burger King for the 2nd time in 2 days - lucky them!

Arctic Hysteria

For President's Day, Terry and I had a little "date day" - nanny came for Zoltan, Alex went to preschool (American holidays sure aren't holidays for the Russians!) It was all last minute as I thought until Sunday night I might have to deal with an IWC mini-crisis but it got resolved enough that my Monday freed.

Although there are many items on the Petersburg "bucket list" we hadn't yet checked off, we're also realizing that we don't care that much about some of the Must See sites. I'd also noted an exhibition at the State Russian Center of Photography (www.rosphoto.org/en) that looked interesting, called "Arctic Hysteria". The museum is interesting, it takes up half of two very separate floors (meaning, to continue the exhibition we had to go out the door, down the stairs, and ring the bell for the second part of the museum to let us in, show the tickets we had purchased on the floor above, and then be admitted). The artists were Finnish, and the art was varied. Our favorite piece was this one. Terry is astonished that I like it, I tell him I studiously ignore that the bunnies are stuffed - as in, formerly lived.

We also discovered a new artist to admire, Ilkka Halso.

Then we lunched at Russkii Dachinki on Nevsky. My Greek salad was great, and that's about all we can say about it. The pelmeni were the worst I've ever had and most of my pelmeni experience comes from the frozen food aisle.

Baby's Rock-a-bye

Some time in the last 2 years, Alex decided she could singlehandedly stop Zoltan's crying no matter what caused it (even if it was her own action or inaction). I think she got the idea from one of her "I'm getting a baby sibling" books, where the girl sings her baby a little baby song.

The song goes like this "Baby's rock-a-bye, Baby's rock-a-bye, Baby's rock-a-bye..." over and over in a singsongy voice.

2 interesting things regarding this song happened in the last week:

1. For no apparent reason, one evening Zoltan asked Alex to sing the song. He even said "please" and asked several times. She, also for no apparent reason, steadfastly refused.

2. On a different occasion, when Alex was crying over something, we hear this little voice singing "Baby's rock-a-bye, Baby's rock-a-bye, Baby's rock-a-bye..."

Butternut squash smoothie

The kids love smoothies. I love that I can usually sneak into smoothies foods they won't normally eat, as well as simply give them foods they can't get well other ways (any ideas for other good ways to use frozen fruit? I hate how they are mushy when thawed, they have to be used IN something - like a smoothie).

I honestly can't recall how the idea came to me, but I decided to get a butternut squash figuring I'd eat it if nobody else in the family did (I'm the only fan ... or rather I WAS). I also thought to add a bit of the baked squash to the kids' smoothie to give them some nutrition different from what they were already having. I looked up Butternut Squash Smoothie to see what flavors would go well with it and in the end decided to make a smoothie with the rest of the squash. Oh YUM. And the best part is Alex loved it too. Even Terry liked it. Zoltan wouldn't go near it.

So here's the recipe:
Ingredients*

• Butternut squash baked until tender (about 1h)


• 1 banana


• 1/2 - 1 cup of milk (can be rice, soy, almond etc. I used rice)


• 1 tsp cinnamon (or to taste)


• 1/2 tsp ground ginger (or to taste)

Directions

Combine everything into a blender. That's it.

* The proportions listed are just guidelines. I didn't measure anything except the spices. I also didn't have quite enough rice milk and used some ice to thin it. It was still thick so when I poured it for Alex I put in a bit of cow's milk for her so she could get it through her straw.

Korovabar

I've spent many a fine evening at Korovabar on Karavannaya - with girlfriends. Terry had never gotten there yet so when he really wanted a steak that he didn't cook himself, we schlepped to Stroganoff. There's no good way to get there so someone can't have a drink when we go, which does damper a nice steakhouse dinner. As much as everyone raves about Stroganoff, I've never felt the hype, but I kept thinking maybe I just didn't remember it well as I haven't been as frequently or as recently.

Nope. Korovabar has it all over Stroganoff. The meat is at least as good (I still maintain it's better at Korovabar, it's seasoned a bit more strongly and has a lot more flavor), the prices are better and it's a heckofalot more convenient.

Ingenuity and creativity

Alex attends a Russian preschool. Her teachers don't speak English (well, their English is even worse than my Russian so I just go about as though they don't speak any). When they post notices I take a picture on my phone and then look up the vocabulary if I'm feeling adventuresome, or I just ask someone to translate otherwise.

There was a notice on Thursday but I only got around to translating it today. I got as far as: We need to urgently inoculate Alex against something that isn't in the dictionary. Google Translate to the rescue!

p.s. - it was measles. She's has her MMR. We're all cool. Maybe next time I'll be sure to translate the same day though!

Lenfilm

Our new Consul General invited the Consulate to accompany him on a tour of Lenfilm back in December. Lenfilm, for those who don't know (I didn't) is a film studio in Petersburg that was basically Russian Hollywood. Every important movie was filmed there, and even actresses such as Elizabeth Taylor and Jane Fonda came through a few times. The studio only shoots about one movie a year itself, but its space, sets, props etc are used continually by other studios.

Terry can probably add more but I'll just finish with a few photos of the place.

The set of Sherlock Holmes (his study of course)

Original old films and some of the stars showcased in them (photos above)


Props, for when you need just the right old typewriter

Peter the Great's Original "Palace"

In celebration of Martin Luther King Jr. Day Terry and I decided to do a bit of touristing. One place we'd been meaning to see was Peter the Great's Summer Cottage, and as part of the Russian Museum it is open on Mondays (most museums are not).

I hadn't done my homework so I didn't realize the cottage was literally entirely enclosed in an "outer" brick building so I was surprised when Terry pointed it out and said it was the one (the cottage was made of wood).

Observation #1: The place is super, duper tiny. It's 3 small rooms, constructed in 3 days - although Terry noted there must have been many days beforehand spent cutting the lumber.

Observations #2: For the Russian price of 70 rubles it was totally worth seeing. For the foreigner price of 200 rubles, I'd have given it a skip.

We hadn't paid for the "photos permitted" ticket so I just got a couple of shots of the outside.

After the museum it was lunch time. We pretty much stumbled upon Troitsky Most, a restaurant that's been on the Consulate list of recommended restaurants forever and we never gave it much thought. It is vegetarian, so I thought Terry might not want to stay but he did and ... YUM. He even liked my mushroom plov. We'll definitely go back whenever life takes me to the Petrograd side.

the kindness of strangers

Russia observes New Year plus Orthodox Christmas over the first 9-10 days of January, depending on the location of weekends. When the host government is closed, generally, US Embassies and Consulates are closed too. So, we just had a great week's vacation without having to use annual leave.

Relatively early in the long week, I dropped my Russian identification card (my diplomatic ID). It isn't tragic - it meant I had to carry around my diplomatic passport for identification and when the Consulate re-opened apply for a new card. Carrying the passport is a bit of a hassle and a stress as pickpocketing is the most likely crime any foreigner is likely to encounter here.

In the morning of the first day back I get a phone call at the Consulate. The woman speaks Russian so my instinct, as usual, is that she has the wrong number. But I focus my attention on figuring out what she's saying and - yep - she found my card. She can meet me the following day to return it to me. At one point, when I couldn't understand the name of the metro station she was saying and I mentioned the station closest to my house to give her context on which line I would take, she said she was comfortable coming to my station. (!!!) When we met, she was exactly on time.

What I said to her as I thanked her profusely was that in the USA, nobody would have done what she did. Then I wondered if I was being jaded about my own country or just realistic. Then I read this Washington Post story.

My inverate skeptic

This Christmukkah Terry and I participated in a form of "direct charity" via a blog I have come to love, Rants from Mommyland (www.rantsfrommommyland.com). The gist was that mothers in need wrote to the bloggers, and people who wanted to help also wrote in, and we were matched up. We sent store gift cards in whatever denomination we felt comfortable giving. It was a total exercise in trust and faith, perfect for the holiday season.

My husband is a skeptic and that's being gentle. Our compromise was that I'd sign up to help 2 people and we'd send each half of what I really wanted to send - that way we were a bit "protected" as it was very unlikely that both of our matches would be scammers.

Read THIS to see what happened to one of the bloggers in the aftermath of the experiment (warning, if you have any heart you'll tear up a bit).

In today's mail came a thank you note from one of our matches (the online store sites required a return address on the gift cards, so she got it there). My husband's comment was that it was no guarantee that she hadn't been a scammer. It kinda make me want to smack him upside the head, but instead I stared at him until he agreed that was ridiculous.