This is a Russian Life

Green Thumbs in Russia

2010-08-02T13:27:00.000-07:00

I think my mother-in-law is a distant relative of the Jolly Green Giant.

A couple of weeks ago, I traveled with my family to my in-law's house. We spent the day at their datcha where my mother-in-law has the most beautiful garden I have ever seen in my life. I would swear - in a court of law if forced - both of my mother-in-laws hands have no fingers and are only composed of green thumbs.

A dacha (да́ча) is a Russian summer cottage. If you are not familiar with this term, click here to read a previous post about my in-law's dacha. This link also contains pictures of the dacha's interior and spring planting season.

My mother-in-law only practices organic gardening since my children were born. She takes a short bus ride out to the dacha 2 - 3 times a week to work in the garden. This is her passion, her hobby, and the only way of life she really knows.

Prior to the collapse of the Soviet Union and introduction of imported fruit and vegetables in the mega chain grocery stores, a summer garden was planted by most families to help supplement their dinner table. The fresh fruit and vegetables grown would be eaten in the summer and canned for winter. This was the only source of produce available to a lot of families.

My mother-in-law's garden contains two green houses, open planting spaces, flowers, berry bushes, and fruit trees. This year she planted potatoes, cucumbers, cabbage, beets, peas, peppers, zucchini, eggplant, and dill. In addition, there are four apple trees, one pear tree, and several raspberry, strawberry, and sour grapes bushes.

I will admit I do not know a lot about gardening; however, I do not have to be an expert to tell you the produce and fruits from her garden taste amazing! Everything is fresh and crisp. I have never had a bad vegetable from her garden.

The only problem with my mother-in-law's garden is her yield: she grows way to much for everyone in our family to consume!

My mother-in-law still does can a fair amount of vegetables; however, there is no way our family can eat every thing she grow. She gives vegetables to extended family members, friends, neighbors, and a few elderly couples who are no longer able to tend their own gardens.

My children absolutely love spending time at the dacha. My son says it is the best part about being in Russia during the summer. He and his sister run in the garden, help water plants, play in the sprinkler, and play with other grandchildren visiting their grandparent's dacha.

My son has even learned how to pick and wash fresh carrots. I had to laugh when he schooled me on the which carrots were the best ones to pick when we were there.

Of course, the best part of the day is when we sat down and ate the "veggies" of my mother-in-law's labor. They were absolutely delicious!

Only in Russia: A Parasailing Donkey

2010-07-22T11:49:00.000-07:00

My friends and I in Moscow will often say "only in Russia" or "This is Russia" to describe situations or experiences that are so counter to the Western way of thinking that we are often left speechless. In the past, these situations have included:

Seeing 3 monkeys in fur coats riding in the back seat of a Lada
A tour guide canceling a tour she agreed to give for twenty people 30 minutes after the agreed upon start time as she did not feel like doing it after she woke up
A waiter bringing you the wrong meal only to tell you "This dish is better. You should have ordered it anyway." And, the restaurant manager agreeing with the waiter.
Spending two hours in a car to go less than a mile
Waiting all day for a refrigerator repair man to come to your house only to show up at 6:00 PM and tell you he is not the service man. His job is only to verify "What kind of refrigerator you own?"

I could give you a list of 100 more of these "only in Russia". In fact, I will do this in a future blog post. However, for now I think you understand what I am trying to say.

So, I logged onto my customized yahoo page earlier this evening and noticed the following quote in a section titled Time's Quote of the Day:

"The donkey screamed and the children cried. No one had the brains to call the police."

I often ignore this customized section on my yahoo page as most of the quotes do not grab my attention. However, today's quote made me raise my eyebrows as I did not know a donkey could scream, why children would be watching, and how anyone could not think to call the police under those circumstances.

Click here to see the picture and details related to quote.

As it turns out, some guy in Russia thought it would be a brilliant marketing idea to attach a donkey to parasail and take animal for a ride.

This is where my saying "only in Russia" come into play. Only in Russia would some guy think this is a brilliant idea.

Seriously, what was this man thinking! Did he really think this was going to make people buy is product or service? I can say with quite certainty a parasailing donkey, or any animal for this matter of fact, would not create a positive brand imagine in my mind.

Thanks to the world outcry on the parasailing donkey publicity stunt, Russian officials are now looking into pressing charges against the people responsible. See, sometimes You Tube can be used for the greater good.

"Only in Russia" would a bunch of guys sitting around a table think this is a good idea....and drinking vodka is no excuse!

Presents for the Family

2010-07-06T06:06:00.000-07:00

I feel as if Christmas has come early again this year. Not only is sun not rising until 4:55 AM (see previous post), but The Lieutenant returned from a business trip this weekend with several gifts for me and the children.

Here is a picture of the gifts:

I know many of you were expecting to see a picture of me with some bling on around my neck. You may not see or understand the excitement or value of the man of your dreams buying you brown sugar, cream of tartar, fat free salad dressing, and barbecue sauce instead of jewels, but I do.

All of these items in the picture are things you cannot buy in Moscow. Or, on the rare occasion you are able to find them, you have to consider if buying this particular food product is more important than funding your child’s university education fund this month. (I paid $8.25 for Shop-n-Save macaroni a couple of weeks ago. It was really bad; nothing like the blue box. The kids and I ate in silence as we were all a bit sad that this slice of American powder cheese did not taste very good.)

In addition to our favorite food products, the Lieutenant also bought some new clothes for the kids. My daughter received two new sun dresses and my son received a new a business coat and tie. He has been wanting one for a long time. He wants to dress-up like his Papa does for work and, perhaps, go to dinner with us next time we go out. (There goes my excuse of "I am sorry. You can not go to dinner with us as you do not have a tie.") I received a pair of rain shoes. I am excited as the shoes I wear when it rains are falling apart and, well let’s just say, it has been suggested I leave them out by the door and not bring them into the apartment due to a strange aroma.

********

My son grabbed the coat and tie out of the suitcase, put them on, and took off skipping into the dining. Upon entering the dining room, he stops and straightens his tie. His sister is twirling around in a circle and singing at the top of her lungs. She does not miss a note or step when he starts to speak.

“How do I look in my new business coat?” he asked her. You could tell by the tilt of his head, the look on his face, he wanted her approval.

“Good!” she sings back to him, drawing out the double oo sound.

He smiles and nods at her with his head still titled. He is pleased to have her approval. “What did Papa buy you? I did not see” he asked with the sound of curiosity in his voice.

She stopped twirling and stumbled to left, losing her balance for a few seconds. All of the twirling had made her dizzy. She quickly regained her footing, planted her feet firmly on the ground, and yelled at the top of her lungs “My Papa bought me Raisin Bran!”

My son run over to my daughter shouting “Let me see. Let me see.”

She proudly held the box out to him and said “This mean we do not have to eat the yucky Russian Raisin Bran Mommy makes!” They both start jumping up and down, yelling with excitement.

********

I am sure you are wondering why in the world my daughter was excited about receiving a box of cereal as a gift. The cereal aisle, or rather I should say section, at our local grocery is rather lacking in choice. This is what it looks like:

My son and I counted 27 different types of cereal at our local grocery store. (Yes, this is picture of the entire cereal selection.) The only types of cereal my kids like are Wheatbix and cornflakes. They will not eat Honey Nut Cheerios and I do will not buy chocolate cereals for them. (Do not ask me why they sale Honey Nut Cheerios, but not plain Cheerios in Russia.)

As my daughter loves Raisin Bran, I had been making some for her. My recipe is:

+ 1 cup of cornflakes

+ Large handful of Russian raisins

Mix together. Add milk and serve.

What did you expect? This is not a cooking blog!

I did not realize my daughter thought my raisin bran was yucky! She always ate it without complaining. However, I just learned – thanks to another expat blogging mom in Moscow – I was using Cape Gooseberries and not raisins in my recipe. I should have paid more attention to the label.

I have found Raisin Bran and Rice Krispies at an upscale grocery store located in a department store about an hour from our house. They get a shipment of American food products in a couple of times a year. Of course, the cereal cost $15 a box and you have to get there the day the shipment arrives or it will be gone.

******

I am happy to report dinner at our house last night was a formal occasion. My son wore his business coat and my daughter, at his request, put on one of her new dresses. I agreed to wear my new rain shoes.

I prepared a meal fit for a king. There was not a morsel of food wasted or drop of milk spilled. Everyone was smiling.

I was so overcome with joy at seeing my children happy. Before I knew it, I picked my bowl up off the table and asked the children to break one of my cardinal rules of good manners.

“Pick up your bowls and let’s have toast! To Papa, for buying us the ingredients for this fine meal.” We lifted our bowls, put them to our lips, and drank the remaining milk in our cereal bowls.

Gulp!

Happy Summer Solstice

2010-06-23T20:29:00.000-07:00

I think the title of my blog post says it all! Happy Summer Solstice!!!

Please note I am purposely violating all the rules of how to write a good blog post by including six exclamation points in a two sentence paragraph. I want to convey my excitement for this event to you because I am excited. I am really excited!

Why is the day important to me? What does this mean for me? It means the white nights that occur in the most northern parts of the northern hemisphere will start to turn black.

In case you did not know, the summer solstice is when the earth shifts the way it leans toward the sun. A section of the earth (hemisphere) leans towards the sun during the summer and away from the sun in the winter. When the direction the earth tilts start to change, the seasons start the slow process of changing. Summer slips into fall; winter melts into spring. The days get longer or shorter - depending on which hemisphere of the globe you reside. This explains why the seasons between the earth’s hemispheres are opposite and, more importantly, explains why Santa Clause wears a warm, red coat in America and a swim suit in Australia at Christmas time.

The summer solstice actually occurs sometime between June 21 and 22. The exact date and time varies slightly year to year. This is a minor detail to me. The importance of the event for me and millions of other parents in the upper region of the northern hemisphere is the earth will start to lean away from the sun. This means the sun will set start to set earlier each and every night.

Okay, please do not bombard my e-mail with questions and comments regarding the pagan nature of this holiday. I am not a pagan. I am not celebrating the event at Stonehenge. Instead, I am just a mom who is tired and has dark circles under her eyes because her two children wake-up bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at 6:00 AM every morning because the sun is shining outside their window in Moscow like it is noon in the Arabian Desert.

Come on people! I actually have aluminum foil taped to my windows! You would be excited too if the shift in the earth’s tilt was directly proportional to the amount of sleep you were getting.

Yippee! The earth is starting to move away from the sun. This is exciting! I feel like I could sing and dance in a Broadway musical. I feel like I could run a marathon. I feel like it is Christmas. I feel like a good night’s sleep is just around the corner!

Yes, dear readers, there really is a ~~Santa Clause~~ Ded Moros! I wish a Happy Summer Solstice to all and to all a good, dark night.

New Additions

2010-06-11T12:02:00.000-07:00

In case you are tired of reading about my life, I have added a few new blogs to my blog roll for you to check out.

For those of you technically challenged (you know who you are), this is the list of blogs located to the right of the post you are reading.    The titles of these sections are "Other Expat Blogs" and "Adoption Blogs".

The two new expat blogs I have added are "Soviet City" and "Russian American Observations". Both of these blogs are written by males, living in Russian, and not located in Moscow.

The three adoption blogs I have added are "From Russia, With Love", "The Accidental Mommy", and "One Mother's Day". All of these women have adopted children from Russia or the former Soviet Bloc and are sharing their experiences of raising adopted children.

I do receive a fair number of private e-mails from couples researching adoption or in the process of adopting from Russia. Most of the time these families are wanting to know about my adoption experience and / or have questions about Russia. My children are biologically mine; thus, I am not able to give advice on adopting. However, I am always willing to answer any questions about Russia.

Families adopting from Russia have a special place in my heart. I have been to a few orphanages in Russia and understand the difficult life these children will face if they remain institutionalized. I follow a few blogs of people in the process of adopting (not listed here) and it thrills me each I read about a child finding a home.

I also have a few other blogs I read. Most of them I came across as they were either listed on a blog roll of some other blog or by wanting to know who left that intelligent comment on another blog. No I will also admit I read Dooce and Smitten Kitchen. These are my guilty pleasures. ( And, no I have never made a recipe listed on Smitten Kitchen. I just like looking.)

One last thing, I do not actually know the people I have added to my blog roll. I feel like I do sometimes as I have read a lot about their life. On the other hand, I do know the authors of "Winds of Change" and "An American Girls in Moscow". They are both based in Moscow and are just as amazing in person as they appear to be on their blog.

I have followed all of the blogs listed in my blog roll for awhile. If you are interested in Russia, you might check them out as I think you might enjoy them too. Happy Reading!

Snowing in June

2010-06-02T10:47:00.000-07:00

"That is not snow" said my three year old daughter matter of factly as she pointed at white flakes floating floating in the Moscow sky.

I turned and smiled at her in the backseat of the car. "Are you sure it is not snow?" I asked her with a tease in my voice. "It is white and falling from the sky."

Her eyes got big as she processed the words I was saying. After a short moment, she started laughing and cried out in delight "You are silly mommy. That is not snow."

I know, I know! I teased you with my blog title. You are now wondering "Did it snow in Moscow?" The answer to this question is "No". However, look below at the picture I took in Moscow last Thursday.

Doesn't it look like snow? You would almost believe there is snow on the ground by looking at this picture.

I can assure you it has not snowed in Moscow. The picture below shows a more detailed view of the white flakes.

My daughter told me with great confidence "The white stuff floating in the air is from when you blow on a dandelion". I wish she was right. Perhaps if what she said was true, I would not want to claw out my eyes in an effort to get them to stop itching for just a moment.

The white "summer snow" blanketing Moscow is called pukh. It is released from the female balsam poplar tree each year in June.

Legend says the phenomenon of white snow falling in June is one of Stalin's lasting legacies. In the 1930's, Stalin ordered the planting of trees and shrubs in an effort to "green" the city. Most of the trees planted were female balsam poplar. Then, more female balsam poplar trees were planted by residents after the war when the city continued to grow at an astonishing pace. Today, it is estimated there are over 350,000 female balsam trees growing in the greater Moscow area.

I apologize for being off-line the past couple of weeks. I have had a really hard time with my allergies. ( I might add I do not suffer from allergies in the states.)   They are so bad in fact, I can hardly sleep. I wake-up each morning with a dry, scratching throat. Of course, this combined with the dawn breaking well before 5:00 AM, has really impacted my well-being.

The good news is the white summer snow will end soon. My mother-in-law says the white snow will stop falling when strawberries are ready to be picked in the garden. I am counting the days until the strawberries are ready to be plucked from their vine.

I will not tell you how many times I have sneezed while writing this blog post. My eyes are watering to the point I can barely read the words I type. Regardless of what I wrote in my last post, all I can think is.....

I wish it was snowing!

Perfect Spring Day

2010-05-21T20:45:00.000-07:00

There is something strange afoot in Moscow.

Don't get me wrong, I am not complaining about this strange event. I just know it is not going to last. I have been visiting Russia for over 10 years and never seen anything like this before. Other expats who have lived here for only less than three years are fooled into thinking this is a normal occurrence. It is not.

What am I talking about? It is Spring in Moscow.

The weather the past two weeks has been unbelievable. Every day has been sunny with high temperatures at around 80 F (26 C). My children have been wearing shorts outside every afternoon and none of the old Russian babushkas have even commented to me on how they might catch a cold or how they need a hat. Gasp! See, I told you something strange is afoot in Moscow!

In the past, many people have told me they want to visit Russia in May before it gets hot. I tell them "Russia is Russian and this is not Europe". (I feel like a true Russian when I make this statement.) You will be cold in Moscow in May if you come to avoid the summer heat.

Sure, Moscow always has a few warm days here and there during the month of May. The key word is few. It is usually mildly cold (50 F / 10 C) and rainy. I specifically remembering it snowing in May last year. In fact, I was in St Petersburg last year in June and wore a heavy winter coat when visiting the summer palace. How about that?

Anyway, I am not one to miss an opportunity calling. The Lieutenant and I decided to celebrate Spring and took the kids out for a walk last weekend. We had no agenda or place to be at a specific time; our goal was to wander about the city and enjoy what ever we saw.

We stumbled upon the Museum of Russian Icons. It was closed. However, my son read the entire sign (in Russian) to my daughter. This was one of those rare moments where they were both engaged. She even asked him a few question and he answered.

Next, we ended up a new fountain dedicated to the wedding of the beloved Russian poet Pushkin and his bride.

The Lieutenant decided to throw our daughter into the fountain. She was giggling hard.

Of course, by this time we had been walking for awhile and someone, as always, need to use the toilet. We found a clean restroom that was free. There was only one catch: you had to buy the toilet paper. The cost was around $1.50 for 4 - 5 squares and everyone was expected to buy some.

Net, we stopped at a restaurant to eat some ice cream on an outdoor patio.

And, we continued on our walk down the street going no where in particular.

It was perfect Spring day. Not to hot; not to cold. My children were happy. There was no fighting. They were tired by the time we returned home and everyone ( including me ) took a nice long nap.

All good things must come to an end. The 10 day forecast starting tomorrow is going to bring life back to reality. Those newbies to Moscow will be shocked. A Moscow type Spring is about to arrive. I am going to dust off my umbrella and head on out. I will some how convince myself 50 F (10C) and rain is not that bad by thinking to myself "at least it is not snowing".

The Sun Also Never Sets

2010-05-13T20:12:00.000-07:00

Can you guess what The Lieutenant is doing in this picture?

I will give you a hint: he is in my son's room.

The answer is he is trying desperately to improve the quality of our lives. That is the life of mine and his. We are both exhausted and have have huge bags under our eyes. Both of us need some sleep.

Did you figure out what he is doing standing on the window ledge?

If you have ever seen the movie White Nights staring Mikhail Baryshnikov and Gregory Hines you might be able to guess?

I will give you another hint: he is not tap dancing on the window ledge.

Here is what The Lieutenant was doing on the window ledge:

He is putting aluminum foil over our son's window.

Although Moscow is not as famous as St. Petersuburg for experiencing White Nights, the city of Moscow still gets more than its fair share of sunlight in the summer months. And, I mean more than its fair share.

As the earth moves closer to summer solstice, darkness eludes those area located in the northern most sections of the Northern Hemisphere. The sun rise in Moscow today was at 5:20 AM local time. It will continue rise 2 - 3 minutes earlier each and every day until June 21. You can do the math on what time the sun will rise on June 21. I am way to tired.

Our son is 6 years old. He has been waking-up 10 - 15 minutes each morning after the sunrise. Of course, the first thing he does is walk into our room and say "Excuse me, is anyone awake?" He is my American child. My daughter, the Russian child, sleeps until I drag her out of bed.

I bought blackout curtains for all the bedrooms the first summer we lived in Moscow. As you can see in the picture above, the curtains in his room are heavy. I extra for the backing on the curtains in his room to help block the sunlight. In hindsight, I should ordered the triple black material liner for the curtains in his room that are guaranteed to block the sunlight. I thought it would be too dark! The price for this feature was three times as much. I was naive enough to think a heavy fabric doubled would be enough.

The Lieutenant mentioned the idea of putting aluminum foil over his windows a few days ago. I gave him one of my looks and made a comment about popping corn. After being asked if I was awake for the fourth day in a row well before 6:00 AM, I agreed. I even went and bought the aluminum foil myself.

The aluminum foil does not block out the sun completely, but it does work. My son has slept until 7:00 AM consistently for the past week.

I can add to this to my ever growing list of things I said I would never do in my life. I now do many of these things with pride and would recommended to all my friends aluminum foil as an option for curtains. I guess it just adds to the ambiance of our apartment.

Oh well, sweet dreams....

Victory Day at the Dacha

2010-05-11T21:03:00.000-07:00

Our family did the same thing on Victory Day as millions of other Russian families do on Victory Day; we went to The Lieutenant's family dacha.   What did you expect? This is a Russian life we are living.

As you approach Moscow or any other city in Russia from the outskirts, you will see thousands of dachas dot the landscape. A dacha (да́ча) is a Russian summer cottage. In the traditional scene, they are tiny one to two room houses on a small plot of land where Russians could go to escape the city in
the summer time and grow vegetables to supplement the dinner table. This was often the only type of vacation affordable or available to Russians living in the former Soviet Union. Now it is part of the culture.

The Lieutenant's family owns a small two room dacha on the outskirts of Nizhyney Novgorod. There is a small kitchen and living room downstairs and a loft style bedroom upstairs. His family built the house and cultivated the land in the mid-eighties.   It is easily accessible by car or bus. No one except my mother-in-law has stayed overnight at the dacha in the past few years.   There is no indoor bathroom and this is a comfort the boys in the family do not want to live without.

My mother-in-law is an excellent gardener. She grows tomatoes, carrots, onions, cucumbers, and garlic at the dacha. There are also berry bushes and fruit trees that provide fruits all summer long. Since her grandchildren were born and now eat the vegetables, she only practices organic gardening.

The small wooden structure located in the back of the picture is a storage shed and sauna. The outhouse is located on the backside of the building.

The Lieutenant does not equate the word dacha with peace and relaxation. He remembers spending many hours working in the garden. Of course, he proudly told our son his hardship stories of tolling for house in the Russian summer sun.

My father-in-law recalled the story of how The Lieutenant painted the dacha in 1992. He was preparing to move the United States in fall to attend graduate school and kept tormenting his younger brother by telling him "this is last time I will ever have to paint the dacha." I volunteered him to paint it again this summer.

This weekend was no different than any other weekend as there was work to be done. The water at the dacha community is only turned on Thursday and Sunday. The Lieutenant had to set and initially fill the rain barrels so that my mother-in-law would have water to water the garden as needed. We told our son to "help" his father with the project.

Once my son was done "helping" his father with the project, I told him I was proud of him. I said "hard work is good for your body and soul". He replied "Yes, I am growing up before you eyes and will have one chest hair soon."

My son asked me what my job was at the dacha. I told him I was studying Russian history by reading (a bad Russian spy novel) and serving as the official family photographer. He said he was proud of me for doing these important jobs. I offered to help my mother-in-law, but she said she did not understand what I was saying. ( See previous post.) I did not mind or ask twice. It was too nice of a day not to sit under a tree and read a book.

After a hard day of working in the son and reading in the shade, our family participated in the Russian tradition of grilling shashlik (Шашлык). This is a Russian variant shish kebabs. The shashlik in the picture below are chicken and pork and, of course, the chicken was marinated in mayo.

While the shashlik were grilling, my son found a nice chair under the shade tree and decided to play the balalaika (Russian folk instrument). He has no musical talent. I will not waste my money on lessons for him.

After he finished a song he made up about working in the dacha, he looked up at me with all seriousness in his eyes and said "You know mom, it does not get any better than this. Relaxing in a shade tree at the dacha after a hard day's work on Victory Day."

My mouth dropped open and I stared at him in amazement. I was too speechless to say anything. Is this my American child? The one who loves hot dogs, apple pie and all things American. Perhaps, a part of him is finally realizing you can be American and Russian at the same time. Perhaps, a part of him is realizing the two lives are not that different. Perhaps, a part of him is realizing he is living a Russian life.

QT: My Russian Mother-in-Law

2010-05-07T08:04:00.000-07:00

In honor of the upcoming Mother's Day holiday in America, I decided to devote my weekly themed post - Question Time - to answering various questions I have received regarding my mother-in-law.  I thought it would be best to break away from the traditional 1 question / 1 answer format and answer the top 10 questions I have received to date about my mother-in-law.

Please note I am sitting at the formal dinning room table in my mother-in-law's apartment as I write this blog post. She is vacuuming the entry way for the fourth time today while a steaming hot pot of Borchst simmers on the stove.

1. Do you like your mother-in-law?
My mother-in-law is a very nice person.  She is kind to me and goes out of her way to try and make me feel welcome when I am at her house.  In fact, she wants me to rest as much as possible when I am at her house and allow her to do everything ( cooking, cleaning, watching the kids, etc.).

I lived with her for a month when I first moved to Russia while we were waiting for our shipment (beds, couch, etc.) to arrive.  Despite the fact she is a nice person, I would not want to do it again.

2. Does your mother-in-law like you?
Of course she likes me! I am a sweet, charming person.   Her son is happily married and I gave her two beautiful grandchildren - a boy and girl!

My stock really went through the roof when I had the idea to send my son to a Russian school to ensure he spoke proper Russian. She knows it was me who ensured her grandchildren speak the same language that she does.

3. Do you have a good relationship with your mother-in-law?
We have this game we play when we are getting on each other's nerves. I call it "Я не понимаю". This translates into English as "I do not understand".

If she tells me something I do not want to do or agree with (like put a hat on my kids when it is 60 F outside), I say I do not understand.   She knows I understand her. If I tell her something she does not want to do or agrees with (like baking chicken as opposed to frying it), she says "I do not understand".   I know she understands me as I am speaking perfect Russian.

This games works for us.

4. How does your mother-in-law feel about her son having an American wife?
See the answer to question 2.  Have you seen my kids? They are cute and speak fluent Russian.

5. Is your mother-in-law a good grandma?
She feeds my children too much ice cream and allows them to jump on the bed.

6. Does your mother-in-law speak English?
The only English words my mother-in-law knows are shoes, socks, and soup. I might add the word for soup in Russian is the same as it is in English.

7. Is your mother-in-law a good cook?  Has she taught you how to cook?
My mother-in-law is a phenomenal cook. Her cooking reminds me of my Grandma's cooking before my Grandma found the wonder of instant gravy. Everything is homemade and fresh.  Of course, all the food is Russian. I do not mind as I like Russia food. I just can not eat it all the time as it is not healthy.

The only downside of my mother-in-laws cooking is she fries everything in oil or mayo and adds a significant amount of salt.  (Yes, chicken fried in mayo and salt is fantastic.)   Her and I have gotten into some heated argument when she tried to get me to eat one more piece of fried something or another.   She acts all offended when I refuse, but I just say "I do not understand".

As for teaching me how to cook, Russian women do not share recipes. She is vague when I ask her how to make something and leaves out key ingredients.   There is an old Russian goes something like this:  A Russian women who wants her husband to stay at home and her son to visit often will never share her cooking secrets with another women.

8. How much vodka does your mother-in-law drink daily?
We consider it a good day when she only downs a couple of bottle of vodka and does not pass out cold before 6:00 PM.

In reality, I have never seen my mother-in-law drink more than one to two sips of wine at at time.  If wine is served at dinner, she will take her standard one to two sips and and pour the remaining contents of her glass into the glass of the person sitting on her right. I never sit on her right side. I am a bit freaky out backwash.

Don't get me wrong, I believe she is punishing her liver and kidney's in a different way.  My mother-in-law only drinks coffee and tea.  I do not ever recall seeing her drink a glass of water, juice, or milk.

9. Is your mother-in-law's house clean? The pictures I have seen of Russian houses on TV are dirty....
You must have saw the episode of Cops in Russia where the guy was hiding from the militia in a pile of trash located in his mother's house.

When my mother-in-law dies, I am going to inscribe the same thing on her tombstone as I going to inscribe on my mother's:  She Died with a Clean House!   You could eat off the floors in her house.

I offer to help her clean when we visit her house.  It is another one of those games we play. I offer to help, she says "no", and I sit down on the couch and read a book while she cleans. If I start to clean as opposed to asking if I can help clean, she runs over and pushes me out of the way to take over the task. I am not kidding - the woman executed a block tackle on my in an effort to push me away from the sink when I was loading the dishwasher.   I hit my head on the refrigerator.  This was the last time I took action to help as opposed to just asking if I could help.  I do not want to wake up with a concussion in Russian hospital because a 63 year old woman does not think I should dust the coffee table.

I am sure she tells her friends that her American daughter-in-law is lazy and never helps her when I visit.

10.  Does your Mother-in-Law read your blog?
She can not read, write or speak English. I translated this post for her. I only left out a few minor details here and there and added a few more.

One last thing for this week......

Happy Mother's Day to my Mom in Missouri!

A Little Less Wise

2010-05-01T10:59:00.000-07:00

The Lieutenant is a little less wise these days. This is the reason why:

He had a wisdom tooth removed on Thursday. My apologies for being off-line and not posting a question / answer on Thursday as part of my regularly weekly themed post. However, I had to play the part of dutiful wife and baby The Lieutenant for two days. This meant buying him ice cream, reassuring him he was not bleeding to death, and keeping the kids from jumping on him as they were a bit too excited he was home all day.

Our entire family visited the dentist office about a month ago for a routine cleaning and check-up. Visiting the dentist in Moscow is about the same as visiting the dentist in North America. The only difference is the dental hygienist does not speak English and all the magazines in the waiting room are in Russian.

Only two of the four people in our family received a clean bill of tooth health from the dentist. The clean bill of tooth health awards went to me and my daughter. ( Not to brag - okay I am bragging, but I can as this is my blog - but, I have never had a cavity in my life.) The other two in our family, my son and The Lieutenant, were told they both have major issues.

Almost 3 years ago, my son dislocated his jaw when another kid ran into him on the soccer field. The doctors at Texas Children's Hospital called it a million in one shot as a jaw usually only dislocates due to major trauma (gunshot wounds, car accidents, etc.).

My son had to have his jaw popped back into place just as you would if your shoulder was dislocated. His jaw fractured when the doctors performed the procedure. This resulted in the poor kid having to have 3 surgeries: wiring his jaw shut, extracting a tooth, and un-wiring his jaw. All surgeries were done under full anesthetic due to the severity of his injury and his age. He spent a total of six days in the hospital. Of course, the hard part was when they un-wired his jaw and I had to tell him he could no longer have an ice cream milkshake fortified with Pedisure for dinner.

Personally, I think my son is a rock star and not just because he is wearing sun glasses in the picture below. He remembers the trauma in great detail. You would think he would be afraid of visiting the dentist. No, not him! He does not complain or express fear when the dental hygienist cleans his teeth and the doctor pokes around in his mouth.

Unfortunately, he will need more dental surgery this summer.   The place where his jaw fractured is where is six year molar was suppose to grow. The tooth is spaced about 1.5 cm back in his gum line. In addition, the x-ray shows a rather large bone spur has grown on his jaw where the fracture occurred. This summer he will need to have the spur removed and spacers put in to push his tooth forward or have the molar pulled. We will travel back to Houston for this surgery.

Of course, my son is now old enough he understands what is going on. He told me he is fine with having surgery as long as he does not have to get an IV again. He remembers this as the most painful part of his stay in the hospital.   After we left the dentist, he asked me if he could have a milkshake. He said his tooth was hurting. As you can imagine, I have my hands full with him.   I had to remind him he could not eat milkshakes everyday when he asked for one again the next day.

I am not sure why were are even worried about his teeth in the first place. He is a hockey player. I think we might be wasting our money.

As for The Lieutenant, he was told he needed his wisdom teeth removed ASAP. He knew this needed to be done as they have been hurting him for awhile.   So, he schedule the appointment to go in and have it done.

There is no sedation dentistry here in Russia. The Lieutenant only received a shot of Novocaine for the extraction. When the dentist cut the first tooth in half to start the extraction, it shattered. The dentist spent almost an hour picking tooth shrapnel out of The Lieutenant's gum. He was only able to pull one tooth on Thursday.   This means The Lieutenant will have to go back again, if not 3 more times, to have his other wisdom teeth pulled.

I told The Lieutenant to toughen-up and not complain about going again. Sedation dentistry is only for wimps, me, and children. After all, as I reminded him, he is former ~~Captain~~ Lieutenant in the Russian army.

Helmet Hair

2010-04-26T05:29:00.000-07:00

I hated hearing cliches as a child and always swore I would never use them as a mother. It only took until sometime in the sixth year of being a parent for me to break that promise to myself.

If all of your friends jumped off a cliff, would you do it too?

Now that all of the snow as melted, all of the kids in our building block are riding their bikes and scooters outside on the playground. You have to watch where you are walking on the playground or your liable to get mowed over my a child riding full speed on a 2, 3, or 4 wheels.

The interesting thing about local kids in Moscow riding their apparatus of choice on the playground is no one here is wearing a helmet. No one and I mean no one! This seems strange to me as they are fairly cheap and do prevent nasty injuries. Not to mention it would take over an hour for an ambulance to show-up once called.

As we were heading out the playground the other night, my son asked me if he has to wear his helmet. I didn't answer him at first and just gave him that look I give him when he asks me something crazy. He decided to push it and said "Oh, come on. No one else is wearing a helmet."

I told him "No. If you want to go ride your scooter or bike outside, you have to wear a helmet. End of story. No exceptions." There is no way I am going to let him get away with not wearing an helmet. His sister has had two non-febrile seizures. I am not going to invite a preventable head trauma to our door.

After a bit of prompting as to why he did not want to wear a helmet, he finally told me in pure frustration "No one else is wearing a helmet. It is not cool.". Not cool. Oh, this is when the not cool phase starts. Good to know.

Of course, I was frustrated. He has heard us discuss why helmet are important and how it is our job to keep baby sister safe by setting a good example. The next think I know, I started having out of body experience. I was like an angle looking down upon my own body, hearing the dreaded words come out in a slow, drawn-out voice:

If all of your friends jumped off a cliff, would you do it too?

He looked at me with a blank stare and before he could even respond my daughter announced "I am not wearing my helmet either. It will mess up my hair."

I rolled my eyes and threw my hand up in the air. I gave them the ultimatum: they wear their helmets or no riding bikes or scooters outside, including their friend's bikes and scooters. I am smarter than I look and can tell exactly what my son's next move is going to be.

My son answered "Fine!"; my daughter followed his lead and gave me a real dramatic "Fine!" They both put on their helmets while frowning and off we went down the elevator with their scooters and helmet.

Now, let me tell you I have no idea why my girl is obsessed with her hair. I did not create this monster. Sure, I brush her hair and tell her she looks pretty. However, she insists on having a new hairstyle every day (pony tail, braids, bun, etc.) and tells me exactly how to do it. It has been this way since she could talk and I have always done it her way. It is an easy thing to do and no harm in giving her this one thing....at least I thought so until now.

The next day I was in the kitchen cooking a fabulous gourmet meal, I overheard my daughter playing with her brother's Star Wars figurines.

Here is the scene:
Clone Trooper (not pictured) on top of the red truck talking to the commander on the floor.

Captain: "Get down here and report for duty!"

Clone Trooper: "I will be there in a minute. I need to finishing doing my hair."

Captain: "Your hair is fine. Let's go!"

Clone Trooper: "I am almost finished. Pleeeeease do not rush me. I will be there in a minute."

Captain: "Hold up troops! We have to wait for her to finishing brushing her hair."

Clone Trooper: "Okay, I am ready."

Captain: "Your hair looks great!"

Clone Trooper: "Thanks!"

Captain: "Put your helmet on and let's go."

Clone Trooper: "I do not want to wear a helmet. It will mess up my hair."

Captain: "Put on your helmet now. All troopers wear helmets."

Clone Trooper: "But, I do not want to!"

Captain: "Put on your helmet right now. You can bring your brush and bows with you on the mission."

Clone Trooper: "Okay, I will put them in my purse."

Captain: "You look great with your helmet on."

Clone Trooper: "Thanks!"

If she ever ask for a gold bikini........well let's just say this is where her playing Star Wars will stop. I can assure you the answer from The Lieutenant on that request will be a very strongly worded "Nyet!"

QT: What do you like best about living in Russia?

2010-04-22T12:03:00.000-07:00

Welcome back to Question Time Thursday!

My apologies for skipping last week. Nothing like rolling-out a weekly feature only to fail at doing it the second week. Let's go for "Round III"...

Question #3: What do you like best about living in Russia?

The question of the week is probably one of the most common proposed to expats living abroad. Expats are often asked this question by family, friends, acquaintances, and strangers as soon as they reveal their address is not within the boarders of their home country. The great thing about this questions is no two answers are the same.

I have never had to put a lot of thought into answering this question when it is proposed to me. I am a mother and like mothers in the world my first thought is of my children. The best part of living in Russia for me is the experience, opportunity, and education I am giving my children.

This answer may not make a lot of sense unless you know me or have been reading this blog regularly. I know, I know...living in another country would give any children an opportunity to learn. However, this is different for my children as they are half Russian.

(For those of you who are new, I am the only non-Russian in my family. You would know this in a second if you could hear me speak Russian.  My husband is a real Russian. He was born and raised in the Motherland. His parents and brother live in Russia. He went to undergraduate school in his home town. And, he even served a little bit of time in the Russian military.)

By living in Russia, my children are getting the experience to understand what is means to be Russian. They are living a life similar to other Russian children their age.   My children attend Russian school, eat Russian food, and speak fluent Russian.

In addition, my children have also had the opportunity to develop a relationship with their paternal grandparents and uncle. I do not think this would have happened if my children did not learn Russian as a native language.

I do sometimes wonder about the life we leave as it is not completely normal. Expat life in non-Western European countries tends to be a bit surreal. There are private schools, travel, drivers, household help, etc. However, our family keeps a foot on each side of the river.

My children have friends who are from some extremely wealthy families and friends who live 1 room apartments. The also take public transportation (bus, trams, etc.) and know what is means to walk a mile to the grocery store in the snow when you want or need something. They have seen drunks and homelessness. And, they have learned to respect people on the street cleaning and understand true Russian hospitality.

The Lieutenant and I never planned on living in Russian. We are not going to live here forever. The Lieutenant's assignment has an expiration date. Our children will be educated in English once we leave and we will live an American or American expat life. So, for now we will enjoy the time we are here and be grateful our children have the opportunity to experience and understand the Russian part of their heritage.

I want to thank all of you who have sent me questions via e-mail and the one lovely lady who asked me a great question via comments. I have received enough questions to last me a few weeks. However, I am always looking for more.   Please continue to send your questions to me or post a comment. My contact information is posted here.

Where in the World?

2010-04-19T13:14:00.000-07:00

As I mentioned here, I was out of the country last week. Can you guess where I was by looking at this picture?

If you said Washington DC, you are wrong! There is one more place in the world where sakura (cheery trees) are in bloom. Does this picture help?

Yes, that is Tokyo Tower. I was in Japan.

The Lieutenant had a business meeting in Japan last week. At his request, and believe me he did not have to ask twice, I tagged along with him. We arrived in Toyko five days before his meeting and were able to have a nice vacation adult only vacation.

Sea urchins, clams, shrimp and some mystery seafood for sale at the Tokyo Fish Market

It was wonderful! Don't get me wrong - I miss my kids. However, there is nothing better than spending time with your spouse, sleeping-in, and eating sushi that was not made at an Italian / Sushi restaurant in Moscow.

Best Sushi Place in Tokyo as Recommended by Friends Who Lived there for 10+ Years

We spent two days in Kyoto and three days in Tokyo before I boarded a plane to head home and The Lieutenant went off to his business meeting. I was really glad we had this chance to explore Japan together.   He has been there several times for business, but never had the chance to do any sight seeing.

I think the most interesting thing about traveling with The Lieutenant is I learn something new about on every trip. Here is what I learned The Lieutenant in Japan:

1. He Speaks a Bit of Japanese
I do not think I have laughed as hard I did in the past two years as when I head The Lieutenant tell the taxi driver in what sounded like perfect Japanese to me the name of our American hotel. I could not stop laughing; I was crying and choking in the back of the taxi. His accent was unexpected and hilarious! Perhaps, I was just a bit jet-lagged.

I was also surprised to learn The Lieutenant knew 10 - 15 words in Japanese (hello, thank you, please, beer, etc.). He had picked up these words when during his business travels to Japan as he his obviously more talented than me in the language department. All of the people he greeted in Japanese responded back to him in Japanese. I do not think they were humoring him or being polite as a number of them seemed genuinely surprised when he was not able to speak more Japanese.

2. He Will Eat Anything
I would not go as far as calling him a human garbage disposal, but I can say he will try and eat just about anything. I like to think I am adventurous in what I will eat; however, I am nothing compared to him. I had to draw a line a squid guts, fish eyes, and octopus eggs.

The Lieutenant has had some bizarre and amazing food experience when traveling for business in Asia. His theory is it would be rude and wasteful as well as bad for business not to eat something his host ordered for him.   (I say this is a great reflection of how his parents raised him and him being a product of living some place where they did not have a lot.) No matter what the reason, I was really grateful when I could just grab a fish head off my plate with my chopsticks and pop it on to his plate for his dinning pleasure.

3. I Now Know Where He Shops

I arrived to the airport with enough time before my flight to check-out the duty free shopping. It was here I discovered where The Lieutenant has done a lot of his shopping for his family this past year. Don't get me wrong, I am trilled when he brings me and the kids gifts from his travels. I am not complaining.

It was just interesting to walk through the gift shops and see the items he has purchased for us for sale in the Tokyo airport: black and gold silk scarf he gave me for my birthday, set of chop sticks my family eats with, the ninja suit my son wear around the house, and the Hello Kitty purse my daughter drags everywhere she goes.

I guess you shop where you live and spend time. The Lieutenant spends lot of time in airports.

Golden Temple in Kyoto, Japan

I owe a big thanks to my mother-in-law for watching our kids when we were gone. She is great with the kids and makes them eat their soup everyday and wear their hats when they are outside at all times when we are gone. And, of course, she is like any other grandma in the world. She also lets them watch way too much TV, jump on the bed, and eat a lot sweets when we are gone.

Oh well, If it were not for her kindness, we would not have been able to travel together. I really do appreciate it.

Just so you know, I do not have to write nice things about her on this blog. She does not read this blog because she does not speak English. (More on that later....) So, you know I really mean it when I say something nice about her.

I bought her a scarf in the airport gift shop to thank her!

QT: What type of taxes do you pay?

2010-04-15T13:26:00.000-07:00

Welcome back to Question Time Thursday! Today is April 15 and we all know what this means....

Today is tax day in America!   In honor of this day, I thought it would be appropriate to answer a question submitted to me for my weekly themed post regarding taxes.

Question #2: What type of taxes are you required to pay when you are an expat?

The old saying "there are only two things certain in life: death and taxes" is also true for Americans living abroad.

The tales you may have heard about how Americans moving abroad to avoid paying taxes are simply a myth. All American citizen are required to pay taxes regardless of where they reside. In addition, expats living aboard are usually required to participate and pay taxes in their host country.

This means for my family pays both American and Russian federal income taxes. I am not complaining. Although I would like to have as small as a tax bill as possible, I am a realist. I use the services and facilities of both countries and am required to pay for the privilege. This is the way life works. No reason to get upset or worry about it as there is nothing I can do to change it.

Now, I know many of you are wondering if my tax bill is more or less than residents residing in their home country. Our US and Russian tax bill is the same relative to income as a non-expat residing in either country.

Nothing lost, nothing gained.

The tax code in American is extremely complicated and is not any easier to interrupt or apply if you live abroad. The deductions and rules are different for foreign income and may vary on which county you reside in; however, at the end of the day all things seem about almost equal.

On an interesting note, a friend of mine in Moscow who is an accountant told me today it is illegal for an American citizen to relinquish their citizenship with the intent or sole purpose to avoid paying taxes.    I wasn't planning on doing this anyway as I like my little blue passport. Furthermore, she said the laws for how expat pay taxes vary by county. Not all expat citizens from other countries (Canada, UK, Germany, etc.) are required to pay taxes at the full rate as if they were living in their home country. In other words, some expats from other countries receive a significant tax break on foreign earned income.

American expats are just like regular Americans in a lot of ways: we will die someday and we pay taxes on all income earned. Bottom line is you can run, you can hide and you can live in Russia...but, you can not escape Uncle Sam.

Am I a Liar?

2010-04-14T12:04:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago I read about an article about this web-site called Please Rob Me.   This web-site provided a real-time feed of people using social media tools Twitter and Four Squares to "check-in" or listing their current location. In short, this site announced what people are really saying when they post on their current location on the internet: I am not at home and you are welcome to come to my house to rob me.

I used the past tense in describing the web-site on purpose. The site is no longer operational. It was shut down by the developers as they felt they had made their point regarding data privacy and saftey on the internet. I had a good chuckle when I looked at the site. Then again, I am a bit of a tech geek.

The information provided on the web-site in nothing earth shattering. I mean we all are not at home during some point in the day. If someone knows the slightest details about your personal life, they can figure out when you are or are not at home.

So, back to the question in my title....

Am I a Liar?

I will let you in on a secret. I was not at home this past week.   Gasp! The Lieutenant and I took a short trip out of the country. I do not think I am a liar if I do not post my travel schedule on the internet. It only means I am protecting my privacy and furniture provided by my landlord.

The daily pictures I post on my other blog were actually one week old. I took the photos the weekend before I left and set-up an automated schedule for posting.   (Remember, I am a tech geek!)

I said I would always let post an announcement if the pictures were over 24 hours; however, this type of situation is an exception. I am telling you now! Do I feel guilty? Well, a bit. I can not help it. I am sure this will make my mother proud.

Let me just now say to any would be stalkers and / or thieves.....I do not have anything worth of value in my apartment. Go check out the pictures. Do you really want a mauve and purple velvet couch?   Trust me you do not! It is not comfortable. And, do you really think I actually moved anything of value half-way around the world?   You are better off finding my mini-storage in the US.

So, my apologies for being out of touch for week. I do not have a good track record on blogging; therefore, I feel as if I owe an explanation to those reading my site. I will let you know about any traveling I do after the fact.

I will do my best to keep posting. Never assume the worse. I am sometimes a bit too busy or lazy. More on my trip tomorrow or the next day...

Easter Bunny Suprises

2010-04-05T05:02:00.000-07:00

I am not a fan of the Easter Bunny. If I ever make it on to Facebook, I will not become a friend of his. I do not know why; it is just not my thing. I celebrate all other American and Russian holidays - big and small - and figure this is enough. Besides, my kids do not need another reason to receive more toys or candy.

It is not that I do not like Easter; it is just I do not like the giant bunny. As I told one of my Jewish friends one time " I am not really sure what a giant bunny has to do with Easter?". Now, I do not really care to know.

I tried to embrace the Easter Bunny for the sake of my kids. However, you can see in this vintage picture of my son he never embraced the bunny either:

The funny thing about this picture is my son really likes bunnies. Dragons and bunnies have been his favorite animals since he was three years old. We often look at this picture together and laugh. I think he feels the same way I do: bunnies are not suppose to walk on two legs, talk, and invite children to sit on lap inside of a teapot at the mall.

Don't think I am a Ebberbunny Scrooge! I do not go around spoiling the illusion of a giant bunny hopping down the lane. I keep up the lie...at least for the children I like. I only let it slip to a couple of American boys there is no such thing as the Easter Bunny when they threw a rock that hit my daughter in the head.

I celebrate other Easter traditions with my children. Here is a picture of the eggs they painted this year:

I sometimes actually think this will be enough: painting eggs, talking about the holiday, and having dinner together as a family. Then, I realize I am a fool. Even if my son does not like the concept of the giant bunny, he is still perfectly happy to accept some candy from him or her. He is not a fool.

Can you believe I actually thought I was going to be able to gloss over the Easter Bunny visiting this year and talk with my kids about the true meaning of the holiday?

My son attends a Russian school. There are no other westerns in his class. A giant six foot bunny delivering candy is not part of the Easter tradition here in Russia. Therefore, I thought they would forget about it as no one had mentioned it leading up to Easter.   However, one of the kids at my son's hockey practice spilled the jelly beans and told everyone about all the toys and candy he got. Seriously, you would have thought Santa made a visit to this kid's house. Who gives their kids a PlayStaion for Easter?   Sigh!   There is always a bad egg in every Easter basket.

My son looked at me and said "I thought the Easter Bunny was only suppose to bring candy?".   I think he was feeling left out. So, I did what any good mother would do and told him "the Easter Bunny was not able to make it to our house this year as he ran out of time. Instead, he sent me some money so I could buy you and your sister a special gift." My son smiled and gave me a hug. I figured this was no worse of a lie to tell them than one about a giant bunny breaking into our house and leaving candy.

After hockey practice, I went to the store and bought my children....

are you ready?

...berries! I bought my children a package of strawberries, blueberries, and raspberries.

These are my children's favorite fruits! They were absolutely delighted when I came home from the store with the surprise. There was not mention of PlayStations!

Berries are very expensive in Moscow in the winter and I do not buy them often. I paid approximately $25 for a the containers of berries. (There were more strawberries, but we ate them before I took the picture.) It was way to expensive, but I thought it was a lot better than a bunch of candy or toy that would be forgotten about by the end of the day. And, there was not way I am buying my kids a PlayStation for Easter.

(Okay, I will confess my sin - the sin of chocolate that is. I melted chocolate for my family to dip our strawberries into last night.   I said the kids did not need any chocolate, but I did not say anything about me. I needed a ~~lot~~ little.)

I believe Easter was a success at our house this year. As we had some berries left over last night, I put some in the children's cereal for breakfast. They were excited to have something more than the standard bananas.   My daughter was singing after breakfast "I love the Easter berries. I love the Easter berries". She made me promise not to eat of them when she went to dance class today. I kept this promise and had a piece of the left over chocolate instead. I am glad she has her priorities and I have mine and there was no conflict.

I think we now have a new Easter tradition. It shall be called "Easter Berries!" from this year forward. I think this will be the beginning of a good family tradition...

Easter Photos

2010-04-05T04:30:00.000-07:00

You can find some additional Easter photos I posted over on my other blog by clicking here.

Question Time Thursday

2010-04-01T11:33:00.000-07:00

Welcome to the Question Time Thursday!

This is the first in a series of regular weekly themed posts called Question Time Thursday. If you want to see the definition and rules for Question Time Thursday, please click here.

So without much further ado, here is the first question:

Question #1: Will you and your family ever ride the Moscow Metro again after the bombings?

The question above has been a "hot topic" among my friends in Moscow. It has been asked over and over again by people we all know and love as well as strangers worried about our safety.

The answer to this question for me is complicated, but simple at the same time.   "I am a frequent metro ride and will continue to ride the metro in the future.

I am not crazy. I am not on a suicide mission. In fact, I am a bit of a safety nut in my personal life. However, I do believe the metro is a safe form of transportation. The Expatresse over at the blog The Beet Goes On said "there will probably be more people killed in car accidents in Moscow this week than in the metro blast". I think she has a point and I know - as a former statistician - statistics would prove her assumption correct.

I know there are probably many people in Moscow who disagree with me and are adamant about never stepping foot in the metro again. I get their emotions; I understand their point and arguments.

We are all afraid, concerned, and worried about when and if a bombing will occur again. However, there are a lot of people (Russians and expats) who do not have a choice. They have no other means of transportation and it is impractical to say they will never use the metro again. These people, as well as myself, are making the choice to put the fear out of our minds and continuing to live our daily lives. This works for us. This is how we are dealing with the madness of the situation.

With all of this said, I do want to point out I do have access to a car anytime I want or need to use it. I use the metro 4 - 5 times a week because it is quick, efficient, and I enjoying walking and experiencing the city. However, I do not take my kids into the metro. (My children have been in the metro one time in the two years we have lived in Moscow when we had an emergency. This is another story for another day.)

The reason I do not take my children into the metro has nothing to do with terrorism. I do not even need to put terrorism on the list for reasons not to take my two small children into the metro. I think my other reason are compelling enough for me to never do it in the first place.   Here they are:

Escalators are NOT Child Friendly - The escalators in the metro move at lighting pace. They are designed to move the 7 million people who ride the metro a day around quickly and efficiently. These escalators are not child friendly and I do not believe my kids are physically ready to be able to navigate them safely.
Crowd Control - The metro is extremely crowded. People push, shove, and cut in front of you to get ahead in the escalator line and in/out of the train cars. I am concerned about being separated from my children and / or them being trampled. My kids are to big to carry and not big enough to defend themselves in a crowd.
Car Doors Slam Shut - The car door to each train slams shut with an unbelievable force. You have 30 seconds to get in / out of the train at each stop. This is not a lot of time. I do not want my children to be pushed in / out of the door and get their hand, arm, hair, or foot caught in the door. I actually saw a man get his upper arm snapped in two when he was pushed out of the car.

I took this picture at 1:55 PM on Thursday, March 25 in the Moscow Metro at the station Pushkinskya. You can see how crowded the metro is on a weekday during the middle of the day.

See?? I am a bit of a safety nut!

I can go for days on the metro and never see a child under 12 riding the metro. You will see small children every now, but it is less the norm. There are people who do it as they have no other means to get from point A to B.

I am fortunate that I have a car and I do not have to make the choice; this is not lost on me. I stand close to a parent who is on the metro with a child and have been known to do my fair share of pushing to help keep kids safe. There is always a group of people who flank around a parent with a child and try to help keep things calm and safe when it is crowded.

I promise I am will not talk about the metro or the blasts in every post. I just wanted to answer this question and it has been asked of me so many times this week and discussed heavily with my friends here.

In the mean time....if you have a question you want answered next week, you can find me somewhere in the metro.

QT: A New Feature of This is a Russian Life

2010-03-31T11:39:00.000-07:00

As I do not already have enough to say in real-life or here on my own little corner of the internet, I have decided to start a weekly themed post. I am not sure what you really call this in the blogging world, so I will call it a weekly themed post.

My weekly themed post is...are you ready? Are you excited? It is .....Question Time.

I am sure a lot were expecting something a lot more exciting. However, this is the best I can do. My creative bone it is in a bit of a rut today.   You are stuck with this name until I have time to think of something better.

I think the basic idea of Question Time is self-explanatory. You send me a question and I will post an answer each and every Thursday.   Why Thursday? I have no idea. It was a day as good as any and seems like a good day of the week to answer questions.

As I love lists ( it was on my list to make this list today ), here are the rules for Question Time:

I will do my best - Girl Scout's Honor - to answer a new and exciting question every Thursday.
Names of people submitting questions will remain anonymous unless otherwise requested. I do not want to embarrass anyone for asking a stupid question.
All questions, except the really, really, really stupid questions, will be answered and treated with up-most respect.
Questions can be about any subject. As I have said before .... I am not an expert in Russian art, history, travel, or language. In fact, I am not an expert at anything. However, I know a lot about nothing and a little bit about something. I am not afraid to share my knowledge or lack of it.
Answers to questions are worth what you pay for them and my answers are free.
If you even think about asking me one of those type of question, move along to a different corner of the internet. You do not belong here. This is a family friendly blog. There are plenty of other corners out there for you and your questions. Get moving now...
This is not an advice column. I have no idea if you should quit your job. I do not know if you should move to Russia. And, I have no idea why your Russian boyfriend or girlfriend is behaving that way.
All answer are of my opinion and should not be used in the decision making process for you life.
I do not know the meaning of life.

Oh, I just love lists.

Do I believe there are stupid questions? Yes, of course there are. God knows I have asked enough of them in my life time. Do not worry! I am 100% positive I will occasionally give a stupid answer. We can be in the same dinghy boat together.

Thanks to all the people who have e-mail photo and / or questions to date. I will answer each of you question in either a regularly post or on Thursday during Question Time.

Okay, in the fairness of disclosure and fearfulness of the STSP (Sarcasm and Truth Secret Police - a.k.a The Lieutenant) I will admit all the people who have submitted questions to date are related to me. These questions still count and are valid.

So....

Unless you want a bunch of answers about my cute kids, you better send me a questions fast. My contact information can be found by clicking here.

The first question will be posted tomorrow. I better get to writing some answer to questions about my cute kids.

Attack on the Moscow Metro

2010-03-29T11:08:00.000-07:00

As you have probably heard, two women suicide bombers blew themselves up in the Moscow Metro today killing at least 40 people and injuring dozens more. I do not know personally anyone that was hurt, injured, or at one of the metro stations attacked.   This is a relief as many of my friends use the metro daily. However, someone out there is not as lucky as me today. There are people out there who have lost a husband, wife, mother, father, daughter, son, or friend. Their lives will never be the same.

If Red Square and the Kremlin are at the heart of Moscow, the Moscow Metro line are the veins of the city. The metro consists 180 stations connected by almost 300 km / 185 miles of track. You can almost get to anywhere you want to in the city using the metro.

The Moscow Metro carries 7 million passengers on an average weekday. (This would be equivalent of every person living in greater Houston area taking 1 metro ride a day.) A train arrives on average at each station every 45 - 60 seconds during peak hours and 1:30 - 3:00 minutes during non peak hours. The stations are relatively safe and free from trash / debris.

People from all of the world enter the Moscow Metro each year to reveal in the beauty of some of the stations. There are marble columns , stained glass, bronze sculptures, and mosaics deigned to pay tribute to the people of this country and the lives they have lead and wars they have fought.

I am a frequent rider of the metro. Although I have a car to take me to and from where I need to go, I enjoy the freedom and ease of the metro. It is fast, easy, and efficient. I try to avoid taking the metro, except when necessary, during peak times.   People are literally packed into the cars like sardines in a tin can. I remember one time during the morning rush hour I counted myself actually physically touching six different people. I turned around to yell at the guy standing behind me because I thought he was my butt, only to realize it was his briefcase wedge in between my butt cheeks and not his hands.

Although my heart aches for the lives lost today, it could have been worse. There could have been more people killed and injured. More lives destroyed.

I did not leave my neighborhood today. I had wanted to go visit an old church east of the city center, but instead I stayed home. I walked up to my local metro station to see if anything had changed. Everything seemed normal. The people of Moscow were doing the same thing they and residents of too many cities to name have done after other terrorist attacks: they were living their lives and taking the metro as needed.

A woman entering the metro at around 2:00 PM today. The sign on the door translates as "Entrance to Metro".

This is not the first time innocent people in Russia have been victims of terrorist attacks. A bomb derailed the Nevsky Express traveling from Moscow to St Petersburg resulting in the deaths of 26 people. There was an explosion in the Moscow metro in 2004 killing 42 people died and injuring more than 250 people were injured. And, there have been other attacks. Plenty of other attacks resulting in lives lost. (You can find a list of the recent terror attacks in Russia by clicking here.) However, the attack that still tugs at my heart and makes tears swell into my eyes was on children. In 2004, terrorists representing the same ideology as those who carried out today's attack killed 331 people, 186 of them children in Belsan School Massacre. What kind of people attack innocent people let alone children? It is mind-boggling.

I was watching a political commentator this morning on a local Russian television station. He was extremely upset at both the national and international media for referring to those claiming responsible for the attacks as "separatist". His point was as soon as these people made the decision to kill innocent civilians they are terrorist, not separatist. This struck a cord with me. He is right. These people do not deserve to be called by another name. They are terrorist. Plain and simple, no other words needed.

New Features

2010-03-24T12:27:00.000-07:00

Now that I have become an expert at blogging, I have added some new features. This is getting serious!

You will notice across the top of the page, under the blog title, I have added the following sections:

About Me
Sarcasm and Truth
FAQ
Contact Me

I have also added an expat blog roll on the sidebar. You can find a links here to other blogs written by expat women who live or have lived in Moscow.

Please feel free to explore the new sections and check out the other blogs!

Buzzing into Our Retirement Years

2010-03-15T04:17:00.000-07:00

This is my new vice:

Yes, that is right! I am in love with the sweet taste of unpasteurized honey from the fields of Siberia. I discovered this delightful Russian treat over the past New Year's holiday. My mother-in-law had some at her house for The Lieutenant to put into his tea. I tired some and am now the one if our family obsessed with honey.

Twice a year an association calling themselves the Bee Keepers and Honey Sellers Union of Russia, or something like that, hosts a honey festival in Moscow. Over 400 vendors from all parts of Russia and the former Russian Republics come to sale honey. Good thing is I had discovered my new vice just in time for this year's winter festival.

One morning when we were driving into the city, I pointed at one of the posters advertising the honey market and said to The Lieutenant "We are hiring a baby-sitter and hitting the honey festival the first week it is open". He opened his mouth and no words came out. The Lieutenant was actually speechless. I took this as a sign he was glad we have the same tastes in life. The silence was finally broken several minutes later when he said "you know there will be no bees at the festival". I let the comment slide with only a smile in reply.

The day the honey festival rolled around I was really excited. It was being held in a historical hall just off of Red Square in front of the Kremlin. We walked-in and I could not believe my eyes. There really were over 400 vendors in attendance. Most of them had between 10 - 15 different types of honey for sale and could describe in great detail the difference between each pot of honey. I leaned the color and texture of honey is influenced greatly by the bee type, location and diet. The only thought I had given to honey before moving to Russia was about how I would not be one of the fools on TV in Houston who pokes a bee hive in their backyard looking for fresh honey only to find out the hive is full of killer bees.

As we walked-by the aisle, vendors would shot-out for us to taste their honey. I felt like I was carnival where a toothless man was shouting "Play our game and you could win this stuffed bear". Only the shouts were in Russian and about why their honey was the best. "Russian bears love my honey!" "Try some honey that tastes a fresh flower growing in Siberia!" "Bees from the foothills of the Ural are the best!" "I have honey that can heal a broken heart and nurture an aging mind!"

The Lieutenant and I decided after hiring a baby-sitter we might as well make the most of the situation. We threw caution into the wind, discussed how the fear of swine flu has passed, and decided to go try some honey.

The process for tying honey was not as sanitary as I would have liked or imagined. This was not Sam's Club or Costco on a Saturday afternoon. There were no glove wearing workers partitioning samples into bite size containers for distribution. Oh, no...not in Russia! The tasting process is self-service. You simply grab a tasting stick from the "Clean Stick" bucket and plunge it into a tasting jar. Once you are done licking the honey off of your stick, you discard the stick into the "Dirty Stick" bucket.

Here is a view of the honey for tasting and a clean stick bucket:

No matter where you are in the world or what you are doing, there are always a nut who is not able to grasp the simple basic steps of a process. These are the same people try to cut in line with you at a grocery store and turn to say "I didn't realize you and the other 10 people with carts lined up directly behind you were waiting for this cashier". In other words, we saw a man double dip into a honey pot with his stick. Thank God his wife had the good sense to slap him across the back of the head. And no, it was NOT The Lieutenant.

I just kept thinking to myself this is no different than a restaurant were no one wears gloves and you have no idea what goes on in the back. We hired hired a baby-sitter for this even and there there was no way I was going to let The Lieutenant give me a look that said "I knew you would not like it". I grabbed my clean stick and plunged into the honey.

After trying about 30 different types of honey, I told The Lieutenant I was feeling thirsty. I mentioned to him "It would be nice if they would offer some water, tea, and crackers to clear you palate after each taste". He reminded me "this is not a wine tasting". I replied with "Wine, now that is a good idea. A glass would be good now for clearing the honey off my palate!". I was the recipient of another open mouth stare with no words spoken. I decide to think this one was because he thought my idea was ingenious.

The Lieutenant and I finally decided we both had tasted enough honey for the day as our bellies were starting to ache We went back to the booth where thought we had tasted some good honey, although we were not really sure as everything was tasting the same by this time, and ordered three containers of honey: mountain, field, and apple. (Yes, the apple honey does have a hit of apple taste. The bees live in an apple orchard or so the bee keeper said.)

The vendor took our order and spun around to look at the white tubs sitting behind him. He quickly scanned the labels on the lid of each tub. As soon as he spotted the tub he was looking for, he ripped the lid-off, tossing it to the ground. He grabbed a spatula and, in one swift motion, scooped a heap of honey into a container.

He did not have on a hairnet, hat or gloves. Oh well, this is not germ obsessed America. The fresh taste of honey is well worth the risk. I pour most of it into hot tea anyway. That is bound to kill a most of the germs.

Ahh, so in the end The Lieutenant and I had a great time on our date. It was nice to spend some couple time together and we learned a little about ourselves along the way.

Check out the picture below. What is the one thing you notice about the people attending the honey festival?

Look at the faces in the crowd. What do they all have in common?

The Lieutenant and I went to the festival at 11:00 PM on Saturday morning. We were there about an 90 minutes and only saw 5 other people below the age of 60 in attendance. As it turns out, buying honey at the festival seemed to be more of a senior citizen activity than that of middle-aged parents of young children.

As we have the apparently have the taste and hobby of the senior crowd, The Lieutenant and I have decided we will be able to buzz on into our retirement years just fine! Buzzz! Buzzz!

Mob at "The Ritz"

2010-03-10T12:41:00.000-08:00

As I was walking up the stairs from the underground passageway, I noticed a mob in front of The Ritz-Carlton. I glanced up towards the top of the hotel to see if there was any smoke billowing into the sky. Was there a fire?

A friend of mine was visiting Moscow on business. We decided to meet at The Ritz-Carlton for coffee. She was only in town for a couple of days with no real time to site-see. The lounge at the top of the hotel offers overpriced coffee and the VERY best view of Red Square and Kremlin in the city. It seemed like the ideal location to meet. Now I was worried. Was she already there? Was there a gas leak? Did something happen in the lobby?

I estimated there were 200 - 300 people standing on the sidewalk in front of the hotel. The crowd seemed to be in control. I thought to myself at least this is a good sign. As I walked closer, I scanned the faces in the crowd to get a better sense of what disaster may be ahead. Were the people frightened? Was there panic in the air?

Suddenly, a smile broke out across my face. I realized the mob was made-up entirely of teenage girls. These girls were not forced out of the hotel for some reason; these girls were simply waiting to see someone famous.

I walked up to one of the girls and asked her in Russia "Who are you waiting for?" She told in the most hysterical voice I have ever heard. I did not understand a word. The girl could barely breath as she was so excited. All I learned from her is teenage girls are all over the world are the same: a giggly, hysterical, celebrity-obsessed mess.

When my friend and I were leaving the hotel, she asked the bell-hop "Who are the girls waiting to see?". He told us Tokio Hotel.

I immediately broke out into laughter! As a mother of young, grade school children I am quite familiar with the band. No, they do not sing about mashed potatoes or broccoli. Tokio Hotel is a very popular pop band in Europe. If I were the kind of girl who went to karaoke clubs, I would select their hit song "Through the Monsoon" to sing along with because I know it so well.

As I told the story about seeing the girls to one of my other friends in Moscow later that day, she was teasing me about being hip enough to know exactly who Tokio Hotel is at my age. I had to laugh! There is only one reason why I and every other expat mother with children in grade school can sing exactly five lines of their hit song "Through the Monsoon". Here it is:

Can you guess?

This toy - which I dubbed at a the McPod - was distributed in the McDonald's Happy Meal last spring in Russia. It would play exactly five lines of the featured bands song over and over and over and over. I should have called it the "McAnnoying McPod".

One of the McPods distributed played a Tokio Hotel song. I have heard this song at 453,189 times and the batteries on the McPod are still going strong. ( I am sure all of you other moms know I am not exaggerating! ) I would not call myself a fan of the band. In fact, I would chuck a McPod at the band if given the opportunity.

So, want did I learn from this experience? I am a pretty cool mom! And, this is why I know exactly five lines and no more of one hit by Tokio Hotel.

International Women's Day

2010-03-08T14:00:00.000-08:00

Today, March 8 is International Women's Day. This holiday is an international celebration recognizing the importance, power, and love of women in the world. You can read more about the history of International Women's Day and the strong influence Russian women had in establishing the holiday by clicking here or here.

In Russian, International Women's Day is a national holiday. Men use the day to honor those women in their life they love and respect by giving them flowers and /or a small gift. Everywhere you went today in Moscow, you could see and feel the holiday. Posters congratulating women of the holiday line the streets and shop windows. Young lovers were strolling on the sidewalk hand in hand. Sons and mothers were linked arm and arm walking in the parks. Little girls were wearing their best dresses. And, women and young girls everywhere were carrying flowers.

I feel blessed to tell you I received the following gifts for International Women's Day:

1. Flowers
My daughter and I received flowers from her nanny and a friend of mine. All of the flowers were gorgeous and made me immediately yearn for Spring:

2. Tupperware
I know many of you are thinking "Did The Lieutenant buy her Tupperware for such an important holiday?" The answer is NO! My daughter and I met a friend of mine for a Ladies Lunch today. The restaurant we were at gave away Tupperware as a gift. This is actual Tupperware and not the fake stuff; the good stuff that does not turn orange from tomato sauce or dissolve in the dishwasher. My friend and I thought it was pretty cool give.....I mean as long as it does not come from your significant other.

3. Homemade Picture
My son's class put on a performance in honor of International Women's Day last week for their mothers and grandmas. As part of the play, each of the children gave their mothers a homemade picture. This is the best gift I receive by far and it is located next to my computer:

Now, I know all of you are wondering what did the The Lieutenant give me for International Women's Day. The answer is NOTHING! I mentioned the holiday in passing three times today and he did not even offer his congratulations. Finally, I sent him an SMS asking him to call me ASAP.

When he called, I asked him if had forgotten anything today. I could imagine the mental checklist he was going through in his brain: coat, computer, ID, house keys, and badge. "No, I did not forget anything" he said. So, I asked him "What is today's date?" and he replied "March 8" without realizing he had fallen into a trap. There was silence on the phone. And more silence. And more silence.

"Hello, are you still there?" he asked with a bit of fear in his voice. I said "Think about the date". This is when it hit him like a run away truck. He had forgotten to congratulate me on the holiday. The Lieutenant quickly offered his congratulations and reminded me he just recently gave me a really nice present. I point out that present was for my birthday and not this holiday. He quickly realized he needed to stop digging his own six foot hole.

I asked him "Did you remember to congratulate your mother when you talked to her today?". He stumbled for a minutes, claimed he was trying to remember, and finally came out with a sheepishly "yes, I did".

Do I really care about the holiday? The answer is only when he forgets and, more importantly, when he remembers to congratulates his mother, but not me. I am going to have fun tormenting him with this slip-up.

Freedom from the Kitchen

2010-03-08T13:47:00.000-08:00

The International Women's Club of Moscow sent a copy of a vintage Soviet poster and the following text to all their members in newsletter last year:

This 1932 Soviet poster is dedicated to the 8th of March holiday. The test reads "8th of March is the day of the rebellion of the working women against kitchen slavery" and "Down with the oppression and narrow-mindedness of the household work!". Originally in the USSR the holiday had a clear political character, emphasizing the role of the Soviet state in the liberation of women from the second-class citizens' position. However, with time the meaning of the holiday has evolved to an apolitical celebration of women with an emphasis on their beauty and motherhood.

I love this poster! Nothing would please me more than to have a copy of it in my kitchen to serve as reminder to my son that a women's place is not in the kitchen unless she chooses to be in the kitchen. His wife will thank me someday.

Happy International Women's Day to all of you and women in the world. May the world learn of the peace and love in a women's heart.

One in a Million Shot

2010-03-01T09:52:00.000-08:00

If you have a child that gets car sick or sprayed something accidentally into your eye, then you will know where this is story is headed.

Last Tuesday night, I noticed by daughter's voice was starting to get hoarse. She had no other symptoms of being ill other than the frog in her throat. As I was worried about her, I pushed The Lieutenant out of bed several time during the night to go check on her. He is a lot better at sniffing diapers and checking for fevers than me.

By the time the sun rose on Wednesday morning, we were both tired. (It is hard work to push The Lieutenant out of bed!) We decide unanimously not to take our daughter to doctor. The frog was still in her throat, but she was acting and eating normal. Our thought was taking her to the doctor at this point would only expose her to more germs as she is one of those kids who licks the aquarium when looking at the fish.

This seemed like a good decision until around midnight when she started coughing and running a fever. The Lieutenant and I took turns holding her though-out the night as she could not get comfortable. By the time the sun rose on Thursday morning, everyone was dog tired. No vote was needed about if she should go to the doctor.

Fortunately, we were able to get a doctor’s appointment first thing in the morning. My daughter and I hopped into the car and she was fast asleep in her car seat by the time we pulled away from the apartment. I also feel asleep for a few minutes...that is until I heard "the noise".

I opened my eyes to see vomit flying all around the interior of our car. Of course, I did not bring a plastic bag or wipes with me. You think I would know better as this is not the first time she has vomited in the car or on a train or in a plane or on a bus. Oh no, I had nothing with me to assist in cleaning-up the mess. The only thing I had brought from the house was her favorite Dr. Seuss book. My plan was to distract her with the book about fishes when she wanted to go scare Nemo with her tongue.

As I said some words of comfort to my daughter, I told myself this is not a problem. Her nanny had dressed her this morning while I was in the shower. The meant she had on tights under her jeans as all Russian Babushkas believe children must wear tights under their pants until it is warm outside or the will get sick.

I removed my daughter's jeans and discovered she did not have on tights. I am always telling the nanny not put tights on her if we’re not going to be outside for an extended period of time. Why this morning of all mornings did the nanny listen to me? The world will never know.

My daughter started crying when I took off her pants. She did not want to go into the doctor’s office without them. The tears stopped flowing when I told her she could lick the fish tank. Smart move on my part as this made her happy. We proceeded into the doctor’s office where she was diagnosed her with an upper respiratory infection.

The doctor prescribed several medications to my daughter including the following nasal spray:

Upon arriving home, I took the nasal spray out of the box and did a quick test spray test into the air to understand how hard I need to press on the bottle to dispense the medication. I walked over to where my daughter was sitting and inserted the white tip of the bottle gently into her nose. My daughter pulled her head back to remove the tip of the bottle from her nose and looked down to see what it was that I had stuck in her nose. As she did this, I squirted the medication directly into her eye.

I grabbed my daughter and ran toward the kitchen while screaming at the nanny to read leaflet that came with the medicine about what to do if the medication was sprayed into an eye. The nanny had no idea what I was saying in English and I was not calm enough to read the leaflet or try and explain to her in Russian. I quickly called The Lieutenant at work. He was able to stay calm due to all his military training and translated for me in this crisis situation.

The leaflet indicated no harm in case of accidental exposure to the eyes. (What? Are the directions different if you expose you eye on purpose?) The only directions were to “rinse gently with warm water”. We rinsed my daughter's eye with warm water several times as I am an over achiever and put her to bed. She was exhausted from all the excitement and lack of sleep.

I was exhausted too after no sleep the night before and seriously was thinking about taking a swig of her cough syrup. Instead, I decided to wash the car seat ASAP as I did not want the smell of vomit to set-in permanently to the straps. As I was pulling the shoulder straps out of their place holder, the biggest chuck of vomit you can imagine was launched free and landed directly on the top of my head. I groaned and shrugged my shoulder only to have parts of the chunk slide down my neck into the back of my shirt. What else is there to say? It was a million in a million shot.

I am happy to report my daughter is now feeling better. Here is a picture of her playing on her nice, clean car seat:

As for me, I had to wash my hair three times to remove the smell of vomit. The Lieutenant laughed extremely hard when I told him my story. These things ALWAYS happen to me and never to him. This is why he agrees he is the better sniffer and gets up at night without complaining…

Day of the Defenders of the Fatherland

2010-02-24T11:32:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was the Russian Holiday "Day of the Defenders of the Fatherland". This holiday was created in 1918 to commemorate the day the Red Army was formed. It was expanded after WWII to honor men and women serving in all branches of the military. Following the collapse of the Soviet Union, the focus of the holiday is to honor all men who are or have served in the military.

Military service is compulsory for all men in Russia. They are required to serve somewhere between 18 - 24 months prior to turning 27. There are many stories printed in the press about young men who buy their way out of military service by obtaining a medical disability certificate or obtaining a deferment certificate until the past the age of service. You can find a picture here of a poster displayed in the city commemorating the holiday.

Alex completed his military service while attending university in Russia. The program he was enrolled in at the time is similar to a ROTC located at university in America. The program required all participant to attend a training course once a week located at the university and a training camp each summer. Once he graduate, the rank of Captain was bestowed upon him and he was enlisted in the reserves.

Or, at least he thought this was what was happened when he graduated....

Alex's had to renew his Russian passport earlier this year. He was required to provide the passport office with an official certificate from the military saying he had completed his military service. When he picked up the certificate, he was shocked to learn he had never been promoted. Alex is only a Lieutenant in the army.

I can not tell you how devastated Alex was when he learned this news. He was surprised as he really believe and has told numerous people he was a Captain. Of course, I have had a great time teasing him about his lack of rank. Would you really expect anything less from me? As Alex is only Lieutenant, he is no longer aloud to comment in the middle of a "Hollywood" movie how the Russian army is portrayed unfairly. How would he know anyway?

Our family celebrated the holiday by having lunch at a Ukrainian restaurant. You know the kind that has a cow, goat, bunny, and several chickens running around inside a closed-in area next to our table. I guess this what you call authentic atmosphere. My children were "ohhing" and "awwwing" over the animals - including the chickens which I am pretty sure will be lunch next week.

Here are some photos:

All of the restaurant staff were dressed in Russian WWII uniforms.

A big bottle of vodka shaped like a gun displayed on a table with a WWII ration kit and bust of some famous general I do not remember the name or care to look up right now. I am pretty sure the military issued real guns in WWII and not vodka in a bottle shaped like a gun.

A cow, goat, and chickens roaming next to our table. Thank God we could not smell them!

A cigarette smoking chef cooking chicken on a WWII military stove outside of the restaurant.

All I can say is that I now refer to my husband as "The Lieutenant " and that chicken was really tasty.....

This is a Russian Life in Photos

2010-02-22T00:09:00.000-08:00

As I am doing such a great job in keeping up with this blog, I have decided to start a second blog. Oh, don't groan too loud. I am not going to do anything ambitious or crazy like start a daily blog.

The name of my new blog is called "This is a Russian Life in Photos". I am sure you guess what will be the content of this blog based on my clever title. Here is a link to the blog:

This is a Russian Life in Photos

The purpose of this blog is document and share photographs of every day life in Russia. And, I am bit crazy and ambitious. This blog will be updated daily with a new picture.

As I am a former consultant, I felt the need to establish parameters for posting pictures on my "This is a Russian Life in Photos". Here they are:

One photo or a serious of photos related to a particular theme will be posted each day on the site
A short commentary setting the context of the picture will be provided.
I am not a professional photographer. No reason to send me comments or advice on how to frame a picture, achiving the best lighting, etc.
All photos are SOOC. This tanslates as "straight out of the camera". I do not plan on photoshopping any of the photos at this time. Please do not write and tell me they would look better if I would Photoshop the pictures. I already know this fact. Perhaps I will do this some time in the future, but for now let's just all celebrate the fact I am posting a picture daily.
All pictures posted will be no more than 24 hours old unless otherwise noted.
All content will site will be safe to view while at work. No illicit material will be posted on this blog. Do not send a me an e-mail or comment asking for any. You request will be denied.
This site will NOT be dedicated to posting cute pictures of my children. Although my kids are Russian and awful cute! My family may be included in a photo from time to time, but they will not be the focus. Besides, the blog name "This is My Russian Family's Life in Photos" was already taken.

Alex - in his ever optimist style - was quick to point out there were a couple of things I did not think through when I started this site. Here they are:

What will happen when you run out of ideas for photos?
What are you going to do when you go on vacation?

My answers to the first question was simple. I will start posting pictures of our kids. No really,there are over 12 million people living in Moscow. I believe I always be able to find something interesting to photgraph in this city. As for vacation, I will just enlist the help of one of my expat friends to take pictures and I will post from abroad using my mini-laptop. Failure is NOT an option. Beside, I now have a back-up plan in case of technical difficultites. You can read about it here.

In conclustion, Alex and I have had a great time discussing and taking the daily pictures. It has been more fun than we both had expected. Then again, we only have been doing it a couple of weeks. We will see if the fun wears off soon. In the mean time, I am already working on preparing Alex for the purchase of SLR camera. Whoo Hoo!

I hope you enjoy!

Storm of the Decade

2010-02-21T11:34:00.000-08:00

In Moscow today, we are currently experiencing the snow storm of a decade. I decided not to use the phrase "storm of the century" as this catch-phrase for describing storms is extremely overused. Every storm reported on by the media is the "Storm of the Century". "Storm of the Decade" seemed like a better choice of words and a more accurate description of the situation. It has not snowed this much in Moscow at at one time in the past 10, if not 20, years.

Between Friday and Saturday, and estimated 6 - 8 inches of snow fell in Moscow. The forecast calls for another 20 inches of snow to fall by end of day tomorrow. I am not sure if the forecast is correct. However, I think the total accumulation will be close to what is predicted. The snow has been falling at a steady pace all day long and shows not signs of letting-up. You can view pictures of the snow here.

Alex fondly says "this winter is the winter of my childhood". Many of the locals agree with him. No one really complains about the cold temperatures and snow. This is the way winter in Russia is suppose to be. I think everyone is relieved to see mother nature still has a winter punch left in her somewhere.

After my son's hockey practice this morning, we stopped at the grocery store. I told Alex I would walk home. It is a short walk - about a mile - and I thought it would be nice to get some fresh air and be outside in the snow. My son said he wanted to go with me.

Here is a picture I took of him on the way home. He was trying to catch snowflakes on his tongue. I try to not think about how dirty the is falling from the sky (acid rain = acid snow). I am pretty sure my son lost another IQ point today. I was just thankful he did not try to lick snow off the light pole. Visions of Ralphie's brother in Christmas Story were dancing in my head.

As we continue on our walk, my son proceeded to tell me about how his Papa had to walk up-hill in the snow to school. This is technically a true statement. Alex did walk up-hill in the snow to get to school. I have walked the route he used as a child to get to and from school many time. There is a small hill he had to go up, but really, come on! He is Russian and did have a nice pair of fur-line boots. And, the walk home was down hill!

Here is the rest of the dialogue between me and my son:

Me: This is a true story, but don't feel to sorry for his Papa. He is is Russian, his boots were warm, and it was a short walk.

Son: Did you walk to school when you were a little girl?

Me: No. Granny took me to school every day in a car.

Son: I am more like Papa than you.

Me: Why do you think that? You do not walk to school. I take you to school everyday in a nice, warm car.

Son: I know we go to school in car. I have to walk up-hill in the snow to get to McDonald's. This is why I am like Papa. Understand?

Composed: February 21, 2010
Tags: Weather, Cute Kid Story

Best of Intentions

2010-02-20T05:32:00.000-08:00

As Alex posted on my blog last week, my laptop failed. I was in the middle of writing a brand new post for this blog when my computer experienced a major electrical failure. You can clink here for more details about the failure.

A week without a computer is a long time! I felt completely lost, isolated, and depressed without access to the World Wide Web. I was not able to read the news, find out the latest gossip on Jon and Kate, read the process for renewing my son's passport, send / receive e-mail, or diagnose and treat the weird red spot on the back of my hand.

However, it is amazing what you can accomplish when you do not have a computer. I was able to get so much done and have time left to rest. In fact, I actually had time to cross a few items off of my to-do list. Here are a few:

Learned 30 new useless Russian words; including the word useless in Russian
Baked some cookies; forgot the baking soda and they were a bit flat
Completed all of the laundry; for almost 2 hours there was not 1 piece of dirty clothing in this house
Cleaned out the coat closet; retired 5 gloves that no longer had a matching partner and retired 1 hat I had no idea what I was thinking when I bought it
Watched 5 episodes back-to-back of "The Deadliest Catch"

Good news is I am now back! A new computer has been purchased and the old one has been repaired. I will start posting again this week. And, I pretty sure there will never be a moment again when all of the laundry is done in my house.

Tech Issues

2010-02-15T00:08:00.000-08:00

Samantha's computer is refusing to start and Alex is travelling (again) somewhere in Asia. The photos will be back when Alex returns with a brand new laptop from Hong Kong.

Will I Miss Peanut Butter?

2010-02-06T03:03:00.000-08:00

Several people asked me prior to moving "What will you miss most about life in Houston when you move to Russia?". I was like a deer in headlights every time someone asked me this question; I would just blink at the person with out saying a word. Now I realize I should have just prepared a standard response like "friends, and family, and macaroni and cheese".

I want to let all of you know who have asked me "What would I miss most" that I am not stupid or denial about moving. (Good, I am glad we have cleared-up this point.) My mind was simply spiraling out of control as I would think about all of the things I needed to do to prepare for the move and my lack of warm winter clothing.

Now that we are here, I have finally have had sometime to give the subject of what I will miss the most some thought. I have put together a list of what I think will and will not miss most about life in Houston, TX. My ground rules for developing the list were simple: not to be too sarcastic (this is hard for me) and mention no one by name on either list.

Things I will Miss When I Move to Russia

4. Clean Pubic Restrooms - If you think the restroom at your local gas station is filthy, you have never been to one at a gas or train station in Russia. At least it is too cold for cockroaches here!

3. Costco - There is nothing better than the feeling of buying in bulk. Who really needs 48 spare rolls of toilet paper? Who needs a 5 gallon jar of pickles? No one except a hungry child dressed as a mummy on Halloween. However, it is a nice feeling to know there are several thousand spare squares stacked away in the hallway closet in case you need them.

2. Frozen Food - Yes, I will admit it. I will miss frozen food with a passion! It is going to be hard to adjust to no chicken nuggets, cheese sticks, frozen pizza, Lean Cuisine, egg rolls, etc. We have never seen all those great things that cook in 10 minutes or less at 400 F in the grocery store here.

1. Tex-Mex - Ask any former Texan what they will miss most when the move away, and the answer is plain and simple: Tex-Mex! These two half words hyphenated together will start any former resident from the Lone Start state to start salivating like a dog.

Things I Will NOT Miss When I Move to Russia

3. Working - This will be the first time in 15 years I have not had a job. It will be nice to take a break from work for a few years and try something different. I have an entire list of things I want to accomplish in addition to spending some time with my children. ( I know this is making my stay at home mom friends laugh really hard. Free time?? )

2. Discount Cards - I hate discount cards with a passion. However, I keep signing up for them. I have over 20 discount cards in my wallet and can not wait to get rid of them. Why do I have a discount card to a local pet store in Houston? I have never owned a cat, dog, bird, fish or turtle since I have liven in Houston.

1. Driving - Alex's company will not allow us to drive in Russia as it is not safe to drive. His company will provide us with a driver whose responsibility is to drive us where ever we need to go. Yes, I am getting a mini-van and a chauffeur. Don't write me and tell me I am spoiled. I know how this sounds. Please just try to remember this is company policy. Not my choice. The company said it is not safe to drive. Come to think of it...no one has mentioned to me if it is safe to be a passenger in the car.

A lot of people have told me I will miss peanut butter. There is a common belief among some Americans that you are not able to buy peanut butter in Europe. I do not know if this is true and I cannot tell you the last time I actually ate a peanut butter sandwich.

I guess only time will tell what I and my family will miss / will not miss about living in Houston. I will revisit this topic again in a few months to see if my list holds true. Who knows? I may be begging someone to FedEx me a jar of peanut butter.

Composed: July 4, 2009

Tags: Moving

Part II: Welcome to This is a Russian Life

2010-01-30T06:09:00.000-08:00

Another drum roll please....

After a short hiatus, I am please to announced I am back posting content on "This is a Russian Life". I am imagining all you jumping up and down, hollering and yelling, as you celebrate my return. Yeah right?

I know many of you may be wondering "Why did she stop posting on her blog after providing us with three wonderful stories?'. Well....it is complicated. The former consultant in me wanted to put together a small power point presentation to explain the complexity of the situation. I realized this was a bit of overkill. So, I have summarized the reasons why I have been unable to blog and posted below:

Number 7:
I was busy prepping for the annual Russian Polar Bear Fun Run. This is an annual event where you run a 5 km sub zero temperatures on a frozen river and jump into the river via a hold drilled through the 3 inch+ think ice) to cool-off.

Number 6:
My computer blue screened when Alex was using it. In trying to fix it, he accidentally reformatted the hard drive. ( You think as a former IT guy he would know NOT to do that!) Good thing I had backed-up most of the content and pictures - not all, but most.

Number 5:
I was the one of the few precious American (late side or abroad) watching the Jay Leno show every night.

Number 4:
I was attacked by two furry animals when trying to exchange money before the clerk closed the cash desk to go to lunch. Oh wait, that was two women in their fur coats pushing and yelling at me. More on that story later....

Number 3:
I was busying writing about my "Russian Life" in Russian and posting on another blog I started for my Russian speaking friends.

Number 2:
I drank to much vodka.

Number 1:
I was busy shoveling this pile of snow.

In reality, I once again have no good excuse as to why I was not posting content. I am not even going to try to justify. I promise I will keep posting this time. You will see! Just keep visiting.

One last thing, I have decided to change my approach a bit. A new start calls for a new strategy. I am going to post current content (family life, life in Russian, rambling thoughts, etc) as well as few stories about those things that happened our first year living in Russia. I want to write our previous adventures down so I am able to have them for the kids someday. I hope they good a good laugh out of them when they are older. The older stories will be clearly marked with a "Composed Date" at the end. I have written most them and they just need a bit of fine-tuning.

So, that is is for now. Please stop by every know and then to check out the pictures and posts. All stories are true, but contain a lot of sarcasm. This may not translate well on the written page. However, I figure those of you who know me will get it.

You are welcome to send me any questions. Use my personal address if you actually know me; contact me at ThisisaRussianLife@gmail.com if I have know idea who you are. And, if you have something nice to say.... (think, "Would my mother be proud?" before you hit the send key), please feel free to leave a comment.

Take Your Pick: + 17 or -17

2010-01-25T11:42:00.000-08:00

As soon as I walked into the kitchen on Sunday morning, Alex gleefully told me the foretasted high temperature for the day was -17 C. No other greetings (Good Morning Honey!) or offers (Would you like a steaming, hot cappuccino?) were spoken. I only received the latest weather forecast.

I replied to Alex with a bit of a grumble. No real words spoken; only a sound from my throat. You think he could have waited until I had my morning cup of black gold flowing into my veins before he provided me such good news. This would have at least helped prepared me mentally as well as physically. I am a bit grumpy when I am cold. And, this grumpiness is compounded, when I am informed I will be cold for the rest of the day.

As I reached for my favorite cappuccino mug, Alex told me the temperature in Houston was +17 C at that very moment. I tilted my head, raised my eyebrows, and nodded in reply to this news. This must have been an appropriate non-verbal response because he proceeded to comment about the temperature differential between Moscow and Houston. Of course, I was not listening to him. I was cursing all my warm friends in Houston and wondering if my retirement years were going to be filled with endless discussions about the weather.

Weather forecast for Houston as shown on Alex's ipod!

Okay, I now will admit the geek in me did find the numerology of the forecast interesting. As soon as the warm foam from my cappuccino touched my lips and I happily remembered my son's hockey league on Sunday is held INDOORS as opposed to OUTDOORS like his Saturday's league, I provided Alex with the appropriate verbal commentary. This is a nice way of saying geek speak. Ahh, no need to wait until our golden years to start discussing the weather. We are not one of those couples to put off a discussion until tomorrow when we can have it today!

Now let me put the temperature difference into perspective for my American friends on the Fahrenheit system. A temperature of -17 C is equal to + 1 F where as +17 is equal to 63 F. I do not think I need to provide anymore commentary. The numbers speak for themselves.

Finally, I want all of you to know the weather forecasters in Russia never discuss the wind. I am not ever sure the phrase "Wind Chill" even exists in Russian. I have never heard it on the evening news. There is wind in Moscow - it reaches down directly from the Arctic and blows cold and hard. When the wind strikes your face on a frigid morning, it feels like old man winter himself reaching down from the north and repeatedly slapping you across the face. Your eyes will water and tear-up as soon as you step outside. These tears will freeze solid before they even have a chance to slide off your cheek. Women who wear mascara in this weather end-up looking like a zebra with vertical stripe down their face.

As a final thought, my son says the best part about winter weather is the feeling of icicles forming in your nose and your boogers freezing. This happens in the short distance it takes to walk from our apartment building to our car - about 50 feet. Can you tell he is all boy? He tries to lick them out of his nose every morning even through I tell him to stop doing and he has yet to succeed. I sound like a parrot on a broken record. Oh well, I am glad someone in our family is having fun in this winter wonderland.

Composed: January 26, 2010
Tags: Weather

While I Was in Houston

2010-01-24T07:04:00.000-08:00

About 2 months prior to our final departure date from Houston, Alex traveled to Moscow to find us a place to live. Alex's mission, which he had no choice but to except as I did agree to move half way around the world with him, was to find us an apartment meeting all of my our requirements where I we would be happy living for the next 3 - 4 years. I am sure there are several of you in Houston who are shaking your head back and forth, screaming out loud "Why did she let him go alone?". All I can say in my defense is:

Someone had to stay at home and take care of our two screaming kids
Alex speaks better Russian than me which is important when negotiating rent
And, most importantly, I am blinded by my love for him

For those of you who do not understand what the problem is with Alex selecting an apartment, I will attempt to explain. Alex owned a house when we started dating and, well . . . . let's just say this house had some unusual decor. They say a picture is worth a thousand words. Here is a picture explaining why all my friends in Houston are shaking their heads and screaming at me via their computer screen:

Perhaps I am not blinded by my love for Alex, but by the wallpaper Alex selected for the kitchen of this house. I once asked Alex what possessed him to hang pastel plaid blue, green, yellow, and white wallpaper in his kitchen. He replied "it makes me happy"; I replied "it makes me dizzy”.

After apartment hunting in Moscow for 3 days, Alex called to tell me his apartment search was over. He had found us the perfect apartment. This apartment met all of our requirements: updated building, within proximity of our son’s school / his work, 4 bedrooms (extremely rare in Russia and only one he could find) and only a short walk from a metro station, European style grocery store, large playground, and fitness club. I agreed to the 2 year lease, sight unseen, and did not blink an eye when he told me the apartment was decorated in “a modern Russian style”.

I guess I was still dizzy from the plaid wall paper despite the fact I had it removed three years ago. I assumed “a modern Russian style” simply meant the apartment would be decorated like an Ikea showroom.

(http://www.ikea.com/ru/ru/catalog/categories/departments/kitchen/10470/)

I now realize it was extremely silly of me to equate the words “a modern Russian style” with “European renovation”. As I know now, these are not the same thing!

Once again, they say a picture is worth a thousand words. Here are a few thousand words:

Sitting area in our bedroom. The pink and purple love couch came with the apartment. You will not find one of these at IKEA!

The shower capsule in the master bathroom. The foot scrub thing , radio, sauna, and full length mirror is included at no extra charge.

The vanity in the the master bath. I always wondered how red metal cabinets would look with mauve tile, glass shelves, and a mirrored ceiling - now we all know!

I stopped counting the lights hanging in our living room, dinning room, and kitchen when I got to 63. What is the point of knowing how many? ( Oh, these small lights are in addition to the 8 chandlers type things hanging in the rooms.)

Nothing prepared me for the shock I felt when I saw the apartment for the first time. It was all I could do to see wrap my head around the fact we had a 2 year lease.

Does anyone want to sign-up for “Trading Spaces” with us? Our space could really use some updating……

Tags: Decorating, Russian Culture, Apartment, City Living
Composed: June 18, 2009

Close Encounter with the “Russian Celebrity” Kind

2009-07-04T12:09:00.001-07:00

“Why do you think those girls are hanging out on the street corner?” I asked Alex as we were walking toward our hotel.

“This is Moscow” he replied with a smile forming across his face. “Why do you think they are there?”.

“Oh?” I said. “Oooohhhh!” I said again after a slight pause. I had realized there is only one reason why a group of ladies dressed in high heels and short shirts would be hanging out on a street corner.

For the record, we were not staying at a shabby hotel. This was Moscow Park Hyatt - a five-star, luxurious hotel. (Not that I really cared how many stars the Park Hyatt had at this point. I was still feeling under the weather. )

As we were leaving the hotel the next morning, I looked across the street at the girls. You have to give them credit - they were still working at 8:00 AM. I scanned my eyes down the street. There was not just one group of girls, but several groups of girls spread out across the sidewalk, each with a distinctive style and marked territory. That is when it hit me! These girls were not ladies of the evening. They were waiting outside of the hotel in hopes of seeing someone famous.

Alex thought I might have a point, so when we passed a group of teeny boppers he asked them why they were hanging out in front of the hotel. They told us they were waiting to see some guy named X ! Why did I use the letter X instead of a name? Alex and I had never heard of the guy the teeny boppers were waiting to see nor could we recall his name five minutes later. I hate to admit it, but think we are out of bit out of touch.

The next day as we were preparing to leave the hotel, my son and I stood at the bottom of the stairs outside of the hotel. Our son, the ever persistent Romeo, waved at the group of girls across the street. The girls waved back and started walking toward us. One of them snapped our picture and I thought to myself “how sweet”.

All of sudden, the entire group of girls broke out into a full stampede. They were running toward us. Flashes started going off in every direction. My son let out a loud gasp and I grabbed him by the hand and started backing up the stairs, pulling him with me. The crowd running toward us was growing bigger as the other groups of girls joined the stampede. People were yelling and screaming in Russian. I was seeing spots from the bright flashes going off in our face. I started to panic and took two steps backward, falling into some idiot who was just standing on the stairs.

I quickly pulled my son up and asked him if he was all right. Before my son could answer, some guy behind me grabbed my arm and started yelling at me in Russian. He yanked me back and forth by the arm. I yelled “Stop it! You are making me hurt my son!”

Suddenly, an angle appeared above me. He had a golden halo around his head. The angel extended his arm and pulled me up. He told the man to let go of my arm. I brushed the dirt off of my pant leg and stood-up to look him in the eye. The halo had been an optical illusion created by the flashing camera bulbs. I had not been rescued by an angel; I had been rescued by Neil Diamond.

Or, at least I should say, the man standing before me looked an awful lot like Neil Diamond. Questions were racing through my mind. Was this Neil Diamond? Does Neil Diamond wear make-up? The man's tight leather pants, 80’s feathered hair, and chest hair reminded me of the Neil Diamond man I had seen on my uncle’s old LP album covers. Neil looked at me and asked me in English “Are you all right?”. I almost fell over at the sound of his voice. It brought me back to reality. I was not in the presence of Neil Diamond. This man had a thick Russian accent.

I told Neil’s Russian twin I was okay and thanked him for helping me up. He simply smiled at me and gave me a slight nod. He turned back toward the screaming crowd, gave a final wave, and ran down the steps where he got into a Lexus and sped off down the street.

I turned and started walking towards Alex. He was standing there with our diver. Their mouths were hanging open. I said to them “Thanks for helping me!” in an extremely sarcastic tone. They just looked at each other and just started laughing hysterically. Alex told me I had just sat on the foot of Philip Kirkorov. He told me in a powerful manner – Philip is the Neil Diamond of Russia.

I had never heard of Philip Kirkorov prior to my butt made contact with his foot. As it turns out, he is a very famous 90’s Russian pop star and is still managing to hold on to his star. The older women in this country adore him along with the screaming, stampeding teeny boppers. His concerts have sold out through-out the world including Madison Square Garden and Vegas. Who knew there were so fans of Neil Diamond’s Russian twin in New York and Vegas?

So, what does Philip look like? Here is his picture:

I read Philip's profile on Wikipedia and he is only a few years older than me. I thought he looked a lot older and bloated in person. I am either in denial about the fact I do not look my age or Philip was not having a good hair / make-up day when we physically ran into each other. As you can see in the photos, the man wears more make-up than a Texas beauty queen.

No doubt about it. Philip Kirkorov is a superstar in Easter Europe! Here are the links to his official English and Russian web-sites:

http://philipkirkorov.com/pic_gallery.html

http://kirkorov.ru/

I will encourage you to take a look at the photos. They are…well…nothing short of amazing! I do not think is he really on fire in the photo displayed on the left hand side of his Russian web-site. I am sure it is a metaphor for “Philip is hot”.

Philip’s English web-site has pictures of him posted with Rickey Martin, Celine Dion, Carlos Stantana, Paula Abdul , Usher, etc.

Oh wait, I am not sure of the picture of him and Usher was actually a photo taken of them together. Philip’s eyes are rolled sideways and is standing at least a two feet behind Usher. The expression on his face makes him look like he is thinking "Holy cow, that is Usher!”. They do not look like they actually know each other.

I am sorry to disappoint all of you, but my photo did not make his picture gallery or any of the Russian tabloids. (Yes, I did go to the newsstand the next day and check the Russian tabloids for my photo.) Maybe next time! For now, I will have to live with the fact my butt touched the foot of Neil Diamond's Russian twin.

Composed: June 15, 2008
Tag: Russian Culture, Celebrity

How Much Vomit Will Actually Fit into an Airplane Vomit Bag?

2009-06-29T12:49:00.000-07:00

The age old question of how much vomit will fit in an airplane vomit bag has baffled fliers since the first “Gold Star” frequent flier card was issued. Of course, when a frequent flier sees a child under the age 5 board an airplane for an international flight and promptly taking his or her seat in business class while stating “I feel stick to my stomach”, they hope this is not the flight where they will find out the answer to this age old question.

I know the answer to question, but I am getting a head of myself. I like to refer to this story at as our “Family Flying Vomit Story – Part II”.

At the hotel the night before we left Houston, I decided to run down to the gift shop to purchase some in-flight snacks (candy to bribe the kids) and entertainment (magazines for me to read). The flight to Moscow – courtesy of Alex’s company – was to be my first international business class trip. I was excited and had plans to relax in style. I envisioned myself sipping champagne, eating a 4 course meal, watching the in-flight movie, reading magazines, and reclining to a full fold out bed for a good night’s sleep. I had just spent 3 weeks with the kids at my parent’s house and had driven in the car with them 12 hours the day before. It was Alex’s turn to be on point with the kids. Besides, he still owed me from the “Family Flying Vomit Story – Part I” incident.

After deciding not to purchase the “Welcome to Houston” snow globe in the lobby for obvious reasons, I returned to the hotel room to find Alex performing an exorcism on our daughter. She was vomiting her last American meal of Macaroni and Cheese and it was not a pretty sight. There was macaroni everywhere – in her hair, on the floor, in the bathtub, on the bed, stuck to the wall, and in Alex’s hair. I suddenly became aware I need to remind her to chew her food a bit more.

Anyway, I swopped into the bathroom and took charge of the situation. Alex retreated to the corner as he was spent after having macaroni fly in all directions for the past half hour. I gave her a bath, cleaned her up, and removed all the macaroni from the bathtub. This was a priority as Alex really needed to use it. He was starting to smell.

The good news was our daughter did not have a fever. She fell asleep rather quickly in her play pen. Alex and I thought perhaps the macaroni just did not agree with her. Of course, our conclusion was wrong. At 3:34 AM, Alex woke to the dreadful sounds of his wife – yes that is me – vomiting in the bathroom. He received his third surprise in a 12 hour period at 6:36 AM when our son woke-up vomiting. Alex was living his worst nightmare! All of his family members where down for the count and he still needed to pack all 9 of our suitcases.

I will admit I am not an optimal packer. Our family had been living out of suitcases for the past 3 weeks and all of them needed to be packed or repacked. Alex, the internal optimist and great packer he is, was not worried. Our flight was not until 11:30 PM and he was sure all of us would be cured of our ills by this time and he would be able to complete all of the packing.

By the time mid-afternoon rolled around, the situation had improved for 1 out of 3 of our family members. Our daughter was feeling better. On the other hand, my son and I were in still in dire condition. My son summarized the situation very well a couple of months later when he told his friends “I vomited so hard, it came out of my mouth and nose at the same time. It was awesome!”. Alex was still positive we were going to make the flight. I did not have the energy to argue or raise my hand to flip him off.

At 6:00 PM, I called my friend Constanza to tell her it was not a good idea for her family to come to the airport to say good bye as planned. She offered to come help us. I declined. She offered again. I declined again. She insisted. I agreed when I felt some vomit come up in the back of my throat and looked at the 4 out of 9 suitcase in the "ready to go" corner. Contanza was there 20 minutes later bathing the kids and helping Alex with the last minutes packing. We would not have made it without her!

Finally, at 9:00 PM after a much need shower, we loaded the kids into the rental car and headed off to the airport. It had been 2 hours since my son and I had last vomited and I was feeling good about our impending flight. Of course, this did not last long. Our son vomited all over himself, the rental car, and his car seat as soon as we got to the airport. What kind of mother does not give a kid who has been vomiting all day a plastic bag for the car ride? That kind of mother would be me: a delirious, half-dazed, trying not vomit mother who turned to the vomiting child's father and said “Why did you not give him a plastic bag?”.

Alex dropped us off at the airport as our plane was schedule to depart in 1 hour and he went to go return our second rental car. He was now finally worried we were not going to make our flight. Constanza watched our daughter while I got into the check-in line. It was here I preceded to strip our son down naked, clean him up with wipes, root though 4 suitcases to find some clean clothes (where was everything packed?) and change him. I then placed his car seat into a plastic travel bag, threw in his vomit covered clothes, and sealed the plastic bag for the flight.

After extending our gratitude to Constanza for helping us, we passed through security and boarded the plane with only 5 minutes to spare. I am happy to report the flight for us was uneventful. Although I was not able to sip my champagne, eat my 4 course meal, or read magazines, I was able to get a much needed night of sleep on the fold out bed. We only had to open the vomit bag 1 time for our son and it was a false alarm.

So, how do I know how much vomit fits into an airplane vomit bag? Well, I learned the answer to the question a few years ago when Alex and I traveled internationally for the first time with our son. This is the flight I like to refer to as “Airplane Vomit Story – Part I”. It was not I or our son who decided to test the capacity of the vomit bag. It was not even the Bulgarian National Football team despite the vast amount of alcohol they consumed on the flight. It was none other than Alex. He got a migraine about 1 hour into the flight and he took the bag out for a test spin.

And, the answer is…the bag is never big enough when needed!

Composed: June 9, 2008
Tag: Travel

Welcome to “This is a Russian Life”

2009-06-29T11:04:00.000-07:00

And the drum roll please……

After living her almost a year, I have finally getting around to staring a blog. A few of you have sent me e-mails this past year asking “Where is the blog?” or “When are you going to start your blog?”. My reply was it is coming soon or I hope to have in on-line in a couple of weeks. What can I say? I missed the deadline. In my post work haze, I realized this deadline was just as flexible as most I encountered in the working world. I just kept pushing out the date in hopes of building a better mousetrap. Please do not ask me why it has taken so long to actually publish on a site. I have no idea. It is not like I am that busy all day long.

Like any good former consultant, I read 1 article on the internet on how to become a blogging expert and I am now a blogging expert! I am sure none of your former consultants are surprised by my quick grasp of the topic and leap to being a key knowledge expert in the subject area.

The “How to Become a Blogging Expert” article listed 10 points to having a successful blog that will provide your friends and family with important information and entertainment. I decide to ignore 7 of the points as they did not really fit in my blogging vision and mission statement. (Besides, my favorite manager from my consulting days told me you should always have 3 points – nothing more, nothing less – to get your point across.) I have decided to focus on the following 3 key points:

1. Every Blog Needs to Have a Purpose
Good news is I have a purpose! This blog is to document and share my life and experiences on living as an expat in modern Russia. I will try not to bore you too much with mundane daily details of my life; however, what is mundane is subjective to each person and I am sure a lot about my life will seem fairly mundane to each of you over time. It does to me when I put it down on paper.

2. Organize and Label all Blog Posts
All of you are in luck as I am also an expert in this area! I did a 3 months project when I was a consultant on organizing and tagging meta-data within a content management tool. This is like 10 years of experience in dog consultant years! I should not have any problems in coming up with descriptive tags for each of the postings.

3. Ensure Content Appeals to a Broad Audience
This is where I am going to run into trouble! I am going to be forced to include “this is what I did this week” and “my kids are so cute stories” in this blog. I am sure my friends are going to read my blog out of a sense of obligation or fear I am going to ask them “So, what did you think of my last post?”. My mom will probably be the one and only fan and the most faithful reader of this blog. She will only want to read about her grandchildren. Can I really disappoint her? She needs to get something out of this blog as I did take her grandchildren and move halfway across the world. I guess you all can rest assured you will not have to read these posts if you do not want to do so. They all will be clearly tagged for their subject content (refer to point 2).

This past year in Russia has been a roller-coaster of emotions. There are times were I have really like living here and would tell you I do not want to go back for many years to come while there are other times I have cried my to sleep because I miss my friends, family, and work.

My life here is fairly easy. I know this fact and I never mean to come across as self-loathing. I have help with the children and house, family close-by, and a supportive / understanding spouse. However, there are days when day-to-day living is difficult as I am navigating in a language I cannot speak well and within a culture I do not always understand. Living here is difficult, but it is does get a little easier every day. I try to maintain my sense of humor, take along plenty of reading material in the car, and mumble incoherently in English like a crazy foreigner when needed. What else can a strange in a strange land do?

My plan at this time is to post 2 - 3 entries a week for the next couple of months. I have done a bit of writing over the past year. I just need to edit and post these entries. I want to chronicle and share some of the experiences my family and I have had during or first year living here. After this, my plan is to update the blog at least 1 - 2 times a week. (I want to give my working friends something to do on all of those long conference calls!)

If you want a professional writer’s view on the expat life, I recommended reading Alan Paul’s column “The Expat Life”. You can find on-line at The Wall Street Journal. He provides great commentary on his experiences in living, working, and raising an American family in Beijing. I really enjoy his column.

http://online.wsj.com/public/search?article-doc-type=%7bThe+Expat+Life%7d&HEADER_TEXT=the+expat+life

Otherwise, you are stuck with me! I hope you will enjoy the reading this blog. Hopefully, you will learn a little about my life in Russian and, perhaps, it will even entice a few of you I know to come visit us.

And, finally, where did I get the title “This is a Russian Life”…..

My son and I were walking to the grocery store about a week after we arrived in Moscow. It is about a 1.5 kilometers walk up a slow and steady hill from our apartment to the grocery story. He was complaining about how his legs hurt, why was the store so far away, why did we need milk again, we should have taken the car…blah…blah…blah. I finally had enough and stopped on the street and simply said “This is a Russian Life! You are living it, so you might as well get use to it.”

Composed: June 8, 2008
Tag: Welcome