августа 30, 2006
Settling
8/30 21:39, Pushkin time
Onto the outward slide of my first week at work. I started being useful today; making some preliminary drawings of the first product I’m tasked with producing. Also, I had the opportunity to help И with a small side project, and then wrapped things up on the phone with a hydraulic equipment manufacturer in Mississippi and emailing with S X (whom you may remember from my adventure in China) about suppliers for trailer axles. And at the end of today, the rain moved in and I feel -- for the first sustained period of time since I got to the airport on Friday – confident that this is going to work out well.
This afternoon, over tea near the end of the business day, И and I got to talking with Д (the company lawyer) about politics, propaganda, and the future. И figures there is a better than 80% chance that Putin will stay on past his expiration date next year and was commenting that he really wasn’t as popular as he is made out to be, though Д retorted that particularly since Putin’s terms have seen stability, economic growth, and an improvement in the overall level of wealth, the bulk of the non-political (or semi-political) people genuinely do look at him as a good leader. Either way, I mentioned how the US news seems to keep arguing that Putin is moving back towards a dictatorship, and both Д and И vehemently insisted that the country had moved too far forward for that to ever be feasible, regardless what any particular president might want.
And this evening I got to hang a tight u-turn and accept an invitation from К to have blinii (like crepes) with them for dinner. We talked houses and satellite TV (И gets Cartoon Network, among other channels for in the neighborhood of $8 a month). I’m starting to get a better picture of what might go into a home purchase here. For example, one of the good potentials I’ve looked at is in the Alexandrovskaya region, just a hair north and east of the apartment. It has power lines running right past it, but no power. In Russia, this is done differently.
Before, a private home was simply connected to a main power grid. Of course, the main power transformers and plants were never enough to suit the desires of everyone plugged into them, so devices were developed which could be plugged into a television (for example) that would more actively ‘suck’ the amps out of a power line – frequently browning out the neighborhood, once a couple of houses started using them. If we move into an older area, there is the possibility that we will have to get such devices. Lines to newer homes are equipped with a master fuse that is sized according to a permit which grants the use of a certain maximum number of kilowatts. This permit costs in the neighborhood of $1000 per KW, but is permanent (presuming you pay your electric bills, which these days are 1.65 rubles per KW-h daytime and 29 kopeks per KW-h nighttime). And if you go over your wattage allowance, you blow the fuse and your house has no power until someone from the electric company comes out to reconnect. Certainly a different consideration to take into effect, but there you have it. Yakov Smirnov eat your heart out.
Onto the outward slide of my first week at work. I started being useful today; making some preliminary drawings of the first product I’m tasked with producing. Also, I had the opportunity to help И with a small side project, and then wrapped things up on the phone with a hydraulic equipment manufacturer in Mississippi and emailing with S X (whom you may remember from my adventure in China) about suppliers for trailer axles. And at the end of today, the rain moved in and I feel -- for the first sustained period of time since I got to the airport on Friday – confident that this is going to work out well.
This afternoon, over tea near the end of the business day, И and I got to talking with Д (the company lawyer) about politics, propaganda, and the future. И figures there is a better than 80% chance that Putin will stay on past his expiration date next year and was commenting that he really wasn’t as popular as he is made out to be, though Д retorted that particularly since Putin’s terms have seen stability, economic growth, and an improvement in the overall level of wealth, the bulk of the non-political (or semi-political) people genuinely do look at him as a good leader. Either way, I mentioned how the US news seems to keep arguing that Putin is moving back towards a dictatorship, and both Д and И vehemently insisted that the country had moved too far forward for that to ever be feasible, regardless what any particular president might want.
And this evening I got to hang a tight u-turn and accept an invitation from К to have blinii (like crepes) with them for dinner. We talked houses and satellite TV (И gets Cartoon Network, among other channels for in the neighborhood of $8 a month). I’m starting to get a better picture of what might go into a home purchase here. For example, one of the good potentials I’ve looked at is in the Alexandrovskaya region, just a hair north and east of the apartment. It has power lines running right past it, but no power. In Russia, this is done differently.
Before, a private home was simply connected to a main power grid. Of course, the main power transformers and plants were never enough to suit the desires of everyone plugged into them, so devices were developed which could be plugged into a television (for example) that would more actively ‘suck’ the amps out of a power line – frequently browning out the neighborhood, once a couple of houses started using them. If we move into an older area, there is the possibility that we will have to get such devices. Lines to newer homes are equipped with a master fuse that is sized according to a permit which grants the use of a certain maximum number of kilowatts. This permit costs in the neighborhood of $1000 per KW, but is permanent (presuming you pay your electric bills, which these days are 1.65 rubles per KW-h daytime and 29 kopeks per KW-h nighttime). And if you go over your wattage allowance, you blow the fuse and your house has no power until someone from the electric company comes out to reconnect. Certainly a different consideration to take into effect, but there you have it. Yakov Smirnov eat your heart out.
августа 29, 2006
Day Two
8/29 12:44, Pushkin time
So the balance of Yesterday went well. Unlike in the States, even the management here (even the owner!) isn't expected to stay past closing, so the day ended pretty much when advertised. I visited another of the stores in the mall complex near the airport, picked up a couple more things, and enjoyed a pleasant "dinner" at home, passing out briefly around 10PM, before actually going to bed at midnight.
It is a good thing A granted me permission to read her books until she arrives. I've almost finished the last of them...
So the balance of Yesterday went well. Unlike in the States, even the management here (even the owner!) isn't expected to stay past closing, so the day ended pretty much when advertised. I visited another of the stores in the mall complex near the airport, picked up a couple more things, and enjoyed a pleasant "dinner" at home, passing out briefly around 10PM, before actually going to bed at midnight.
It is a good thing A granted me permission to read her books until she arrives. I've almost finished the last of them...
августа 28, 2006
...and then...
8/28 16:31, Pushkin time
Sorry for the break. К came in while I was thinking of how to proceed and informed me that the director of the preschool we plan on sending the kids to was available and wanted to meet me. So we left for the town of Pushkin, went to meet the director of the preschool (a woman who speaks so very quickly that I once briefly even lost track of where her words began and ended), and I got to sort of map out how things will go for the kids a bit better.
Since Z is so tall, in addition to being older, the director was concerned at the idea of putting him in the same group as G -- even to start with. No problem, he'll just go straight into the bigger kids' group and will be helped along as necessary by another teacher. G will continue to get naptime opportunities (something I was a bit worried about), and all in all the preschool seems like a very good place. We will -- subject to A's agreement -- spend the balance of the Monday, and the whole of Tuesday next week together with the kids, then will start them on Wednesday at the preschool, always remaining in available via cell phone to stop by and pick one or both of them up if things get to be too much.
Their part is sure to be the easiest. Listen to the teacher, play with kids, enjoy self.
Lunch is provided at the new work, though it does cost $15 per month (..I think we can manage it...). I'm still suffering a bit from the time shift, waking up at 5AM, and getting tired for maybe an hour around 3:45PM. It's strange; I've never gotten jet-lagged before on a business trip -- only when I come home. Maybe there's some significance to that.
Or maybe I'm just tired.
Sorry for the break. К came in while I was thinking of how to proceed and informed me that the director of the preschool we plan on sending the kids to was available and wanted to meet me. So we left for the town of Pushkin, went to meet the director of the preschool (a woman who speaks so very quickly that I once briefly even lost track of where her words began and ended), and I got to sort of map out how things will go for the kids a bit better.
Since Z is so tall, in addition to being older, the director was concerned at the idea of putting him in the same group as G -- even to start with. No problem, he'll just go straight into the bigger kids' group and will be helped along as necessary by another teacher. G will continue to get naptime opportunities (something I was a bit worried about), and all in all the preschool seems like a very good place. We will -- subject to A's agreement -- spend the balance of the Monday, and the whole of Tuesday next week together with the kids, then will start them on Wednesday at the preschool, always remaining in available via cell phone to stop by and pick one or both of them up if things get to be too much.
Their part is sure to be the easiest. Listen to the teacher, play with kids, enjoy self.
Lunch is provided at the new work, though it does cost $15 per month (..I think we can manage it...). I'm still suffering a bit from the time shift, waking up at 5AM, and getting tired for maybe an hour around 3:45PM. It's strange; I've never gotten jet-lagged before on a business trip -- only when I come home. Maybe there's some significance to that.
Or maybe I'm just tired.
Indigent No More!!
8/28 12:53, Pushkin time
So, the place they wanted to have ready for my office wasn’t, due to delays in construction causing a stack-up of space. I am located right now in a space shared with a conference room, which is fine by me, as it has ample windows and is far enough off the trafficked paths that I can work without much in the way of unwanted interruptions. My computer isn’t ready yet, so there’s not a whole heck of a lot for me to do, other than get myself situated (which, due to the terror situation I previously described, is I suspect going to be the bulk of my capabilities these first couple days anyway) until Wednesday. И has taken me on the tours of the main site – that I had visited back during my first trip so long ago – and of the second site whereon will be constructed my factory (though he says to call it an ‘assembly building’, as ‘factory’ generates certain implications to the local bureaucrats that are best left ungenerated). This is going to be good. I am re-discovering a small portion, periodically, of the excitement I felt back when A and I decided to do this. It doesn’t replace the terror, mind. In fact, it seems to sometimes augment it. But so it goes; I’m here and I have work to do.
Surprisingly, we also ran into К Е and Д from the Moscow partner I visited both times I was there. They come up to И pretty regularly to get spare parts and even trucks when their supplies run low. К Е was particularly shocked to see me here, though we did have a nice chat. Discovering that I was living here, he told me I needed to get a wife; И pointed out that I already had one, and that she was moving over shortly. Even more shock.
So, the place they wanted to have ready for my office wasn’t, due to delays in construction causing a stack-up of space. I am located right now in a space shared with a conference room, which is fine by me, as it has ample windows and is far enough off the trafficked paths that I can work without much in the way of unwanted interruptions. My computer isn’t ready yet, so there’s not a whole heck of a lot for me to do, other than get myself situated (which, due to the terror situation I previously described, is I suspect going to be the bulk of my capabilities these first couple days anyway) until Wednesday. И has taken me on the tours of the main site – that I had visited back during my first trip so long ago – and of the second site whereon will be constructed my factory (though he says to call it an ‘assembly building’, as ‘factory’ generates certain implications to the local bureaucrats that are best left ungenerated). This is going to be good. I am re-discovering a small portion, periodically, of the excitement I felt back when A and I decided to do this. It doesn’t replace the terror, mind. In fact, it seems to sometimes augment it. But so it goes; I’m here and I have work to do.
Surprisingly, we also ran into К Е and Д from the Moscow partner I visited both times I was there. They come up to И pretty regularly to get spare parts and even trucks when their supplies run low. К Е was particularly shocked to see me here, though we did have a nice chat. Discovering that I was living here, he told me I needed to get a wife; И pointed out that I already had one, and that she was moving over shortly. Even more shock.
августа 27, 2006
8/27 22:30, Pushkin time
Terror.
That appears to be my recurring symptom of diving headfirst into the expat life. I suspect (hope) that it will be better once A and the kids get here and we can do stuff instead of just me in my own head. As it is now, The terror hits me every once in a while – though less as the time goes on; maybe it’s just getting crowded out by fatigue – and stays for as long as it feels. I was hit last night before bed, again this morning upon waking, again after talking to A and writing about it (I had to force myself into the shower and again force myself out onto the street), then again after I visited the nearby market to pick up some breakfast (orange juice is all I could stand) and towels, shower curtain and bath mat, then again when I parked my car on the edge of Saint-Petersburg to go looking for a digital camera, then again immediately after purchasing said camera, then again sitting with И swapping ‘how my ancestors got screwed over by the communists’ sotries this afternoon, then just recently after dinner looking at pictures of the Ю family’s trips to Egypt (И is trying to convince me that Sharm al Sheik is a great vacation spot. I’ll have to share some of my Australia pictures). I feel like I might make it to sleep tonight without incident, but so far I haven’t had much warning before the terror returns.
At this point, I’m not sure exactly what it is that horrifies me so. Believe it or not, I am marginally comforted by the fact that ‘horrible’ is exactly the word my dad used to describe how things would be for the first couple of weeks/months. This, too, shall pass.
In addition to the items I already mentioned, I also bought a road atlas (the Petersburg map I already had has conveniently placed a legend block right over the top of Pushkin, so is nearly useless for the stuff I really need to know) and a bit of actual food – bread, cheese, meat, the sort. There is a strip of pretty sizeable stores maybe five minutes away from the apartment, at least one of which is open 24 hours. I found in one of those a set of sheets for the bed we have here (a ‘two-sleeper’, as opposed to a ‘child’ or a ‘1.5 sleeper’ – Russia uses different sizes, apparently), but unable to read the bar code, the checkout girl simply tossed the sheets to the side and rang up the rest of my stuff. Since the wait in the checkout line was pretty long and I was getting crunched for time I figure I’ll take care of that last item later this week or maybe Saturday.
Tomorrow I start work. That should be interesting.
Terror.
That appears to be my recurring symptom of diving headfirst into the expat life. I suspect (hope) that it will be better once A and the kids get here and we can do stuff instead of just me in my own head. As it is now, The terror hits me every once in a while – though less as the time goes on; maybe it’s just getting crowded out by fatigue – and stays for as long as it feels. I was hit last night before bed, again this morning upon waking, again after talking to A and writing about it (I had to force myself into the shower and again force myself out onto the street), then again after I visited the nearby market to pick up some breakfast (orange juice is all I could stand) and towels, shower curtain and bath mat, then again when I parked my car on the edge of Saint-Petersburg to go looking for a digital camera, then again immediately after purchasing said camera, then again sitting with И swapping ‘how my ancestors got screwed over by the communists’ sotries this afternoon, then just recently after dinner looking at pictures of the Ю family’s trips to Egypt (И is trying to convince me that Sharm al Sheik is a great vacation spot. I’ll have to share some of my Australia pictures). I feel like I might make it to sleep tonight without incident, but so far I haven’t had much warning before the terror returns.
At this point, I’m not sure exactly what it is that horrifies me so. Believe it or not, I am marginally comforted by the fact that ‘horrible’ is exactly the word my dad used to describe how things would be for the first couple of weeks/months. This, too, shall pass.
In addition to the items I already mentioned, I also bought a road atlas (the Petersburg map I already had has conveniently placed a legend block right over the top of Pushkin, so is nearly useless for the stuff I really need to know) and a bit of actual food – bread, cheese, meat, the sort. There is a strip of pretty sizeable stores maybe five minutes away from the apartment, at least one of which is open 24 hours. I found in one of those a set of sheets for the bed we have here (a ‘two-sleeper’, as opposed to a ‘child’ or a ‘1.5 sleeper’ – Russia uses different sizes, apparently), but unable to read the bar code, the checkout girl simply tossed the sheets to the side and rang up the rest of my stuff. Since the wait in the checkout line was pretty long and I was getting crunched for time I figure I’ll take care of that last item later this week or maybe Saturday.
Tomorrow I start work. That should be interesting.
августа 26, 2006
Morning
8/27 07:02, Pushkin time
I’m awake. I’m awake…
I spent several frantic minutes this morning getting both our new house phone – the mobile account they say will be turned on today, so I’m not expecting anything till tomorrow – and the ‘internet calling card’ I bought yesterday to work together so I could talk to A. That done, I feel much better, and almost ready to take on the day (I still should really take a shower).
Summing up from where I left off yesterday:
The apartment comes equipped with stove, fridge, a desk and wardrobe/bookshelf thing, a dresser, and a bed. Most fortunately, since the bed has both headboard and footboard, it is long enough to sprawl out lengthwise, though the sheets I brought don’t really fit it right. Igor’s wife К insisted that I borrow a pillow – though I asserted that I could do fine without, I strongly suspect that both of them either thought I was lying, joking, or simply didn’t understand what they were talking about – for which I am truly grateful. Over/before dinner we talked a bit about household services; И showed me his satellite system (they get, among a handful of locals and a couple of British stations, Cartoon Network and Discovery, with the ability to switch between English and dubbed-into-Russian) and how his DSL worked (not the same as in the US). The DSL we’ll do; the satellite likely not in the apartment.
Today my missions are fairly simple: go to the store and get some groceries; go to another store and get a shower curtain; go to another store and get some toilet paper (I am so glad I packed a roll in my suitcase); figure out how to drive to work and how to drive to the city, and – most important – how to get home from both places (the makers of my Petersburg map were considerate enough to put a legend smack square on top of Pushkin). И fronted me 10,000 rubles at the gas station, telling me to avoid using my American cards anywhere, since the credit card companies charge a spread for currency conversion, but the place I will be working starting tomorrow maintains accounts in several currencies and so can do conversions at the spot rate. The ~$350 should absolutely be plenty to get me through until Monday.
An interesting recollection. I sat on the flight to Warsaw next to a guy who has been living basically his whole life as an expat. His 19-year old son and 17-year old daughter have never actually lived in the US (he was flying back to his current home in Poland from a funeral in Chicago). He said his kids turned out normal enough – perhaps more confident than average – and that while his daughter is clearly hooked on the expat life, his son decided at age 15 that he was sick of moving and caused himself to be planted at in England, where he intends to stay long-term. I have absolutely no idea how things are going to work out for the kids, but it is nice to hear that at least working out is possible.
I’m awake. I’m awake…
I spent several frantic minutes this morning getting both our new house phone – the mobile account they say will be turned on today, so I’m not expecting anything till tomorrow – and the ‘internet calling card’ I bought yesterday to work together so I could talk to A. That done, I feel much better, and almost ready to take on the day (I still should really take a shower).
Summing up from where I left off yesterday:
The apartment comes equipped with stove, fridge, a desk and wardrobe/bookshelf thing, a dresser, and a bed. Most fortunately, since the bed has both headboard and footboard, it is long enough to sprawl out lengthwise, though the sheets I brought don’t really fit it right. Igor’s wife К insisted that I borrow a pillow – though I asserted that I could do fine without, I strongly suspect that both of them either thought I was lying, joking, or simply didn’t understand what they were talking about – for which I am truly grateful. Over/before dinner we talked a bit about household services; И showed me his satellite system (they get, among a handful of locals and a couple of British stations, Cartoon Network and Discovery, with the ability to switch between English and dubbed-into-Russian) and how his DSL worked (not the same as in the US). The DSL we’ll do; the satellite likely not in the apartment.
Today my missions are fairly simple: go to the store and get some groceries; go to another store and get a shower curtain; go to another store and get some toilet paper (I am so glad I packed a roll in my suitcase); figure out how to drive to work and how to drive to the city, and – most important – how to get home from both places (the makers of my Petersburg map were considerate enough to put a legend smack square on top of Pushkin). И fronted me 10,000 rubles at the gas station, telling me to avoid using my American cards anywhere, since the credit card companies charge a spread for currency conversion, but the place I will be working starting tomorrow maintains accounts in several currencies and so can do conversions at the spot rate. The ~$350 should absolutely be plenty to get me through until Monday.
An interesting recollection. I sat on the flight to Warsaw next to a guy who has been living basically his whole life as an expat. His 19-year old son and 17-year old daughter have never actually lived in the US (he was flying back to his current home in Poland from a funeral in Chicago). He said his kids turned out normal enough – perhaps more confident than average – and that while his daughter is clearly hooked on the expat life, his son decided at age 15 that he was sick of moving and caused himself to be planted at in England, where he intends to stay long-term. I have absolutely no idea how things are going to work out for the kids, but it is nice to hear that at least working out is possible.
It Begins
8/26 22:41, Pushkin time
The new home.
I have been thus far unable to get Internet access (Chicago wanted money for it, and since I’m no longer on The Company’s dime, I elected to skip out), so am reduced to my old fall-back of back-dating. By now I have a whole lot to say, but I am really, really tired, so not sure how much I will actually get down.
To begin, the flight to Chicago was bland and uneventful. I did get in O’Hare possibly the coolest directions I’ve ever gotten (from the arrival gate to the international terminal), “go down the hall to the dinosaur and turn left just in front of him, up then down some escalators, then take the train almost to the end.” Big storms had rolled through the night before, and the International terminal was full of folks trying to get their schedules back in shape after having had their flights cancelled. I go my passes for the Warsaw and Saint-Petersburg flights, waited a couple hours, and away I went.
Warsaw was small and not impressive. About all of note is the fact that, contrary to what С П told me, Polish is pretty close to Russian – enough to b able to pick up a word or three of everything that was said. And then, Pulkovo. I cruised through passport control and customs (first in line for the first, third and sixth bags off the plane for the second) and got a not-brief-enough few moments of gathering panic as I waited for И Ю to arrive (he was expecting that I would take at least the normal ten minutes to get through). He turned up before not too long, and then so did the car we’ve been set up with for these next couple weeks – a Lada four door hatchback. I had to give all sorts of stuff to the rental guys, and then get a brief lecture (in Russian; I’m pretty sure I got at least 90% of it) on how to drive it, what the various knobs and buttons do, and where I should and should not leave it. Fun fact number one: the ‘reverse’ gear on a Russian manual transmission is in the top far LEFT. I followed И Ю to the nearest gas station – they give it to you almost empty here – then to our new place. Fun fact number two: the ‘natural’ position of the stick shift is right in the space between third and fourth gear, rather than between 1 and 2. Annex to FF#2: it is possible to start a car in third gear, but it is slow going.
The apartment is as small as I had figured, but laid out differently. It should be okay for us for the time we are in it. И Ю and I left the Lada behind, and dashed out to get a sim card for my phone (no luck getting Andi’s for now – it’ll have to wait until we get a registered location), then over to his place for dinner and to pick up a tv and land phone he’s loaning me. For now, it looks like DSL will be possible, but will take at least two weeks to get running in the apartment.
Well, I just passed out on the keyboard trying to type the next sentence. A good sign that it is time to knock off. No worries, though, I’ll be here tomorrow…
The new home.
I have been thus far unable to get Internet access (Chicago wanted money for it, and since I’m no longer on The Company’s dime, I elected to skip out), so am reduced to my old fall-back of back-dating. By now I have a whole lot to say, but I am really, really tired, so not sure how much I will actually get down.
To begin, the flight to Chicago was bland and uneventful. I did get in O’Hare possibly the coolest directions I’ve ever gotten (from the arrival gate to the international terminal), “go down the hall to the dinosaur and turn left just in front of him, up then down some escalators, then take the train almost to the end.” Big storms had rolled through the night before, and the International terminal was full of folks trying to get their schedules back in shape after having had their flights cancelled. I go my passes for the Warsaw and Saint-Petersburg flights, waited a couple hours, and away I went.
Warsaw was small and not impressive. About all of note is the fact that, contrary to what С П told me, Polish is pretty close to Russian – enough to b able to pick up a word or three of everything that was said. And then, Pulkovo. I cruised through passport control and customs (first in line for the first, third and sixth bags off the plane for the second) and got a not-brief-enough few moments of gathering panic as I waited for И Ю to arrive (he was expecting that I would take at least the normal ten minutes to get through). He turned up before not too long, and then so did the car we’ve been set up with for these next couple weeks – a Lada four door hatchback. I had to give all sorts of stuff to the rental guys, and then get a brief lecture (in Russian; I’m pretty sure I got at least 90% of it) on how to drive it, what the various knobs and buttons do, and where I should and should not leave it. Fun fact number one: the ‘reverse’ gear on a Russian manual transmission is in the top far LEFT. I followed И Ю to the nearest gas station – they give it to you almost empty here – then to our new place. Fun fact number two: the ‘natural’ position of the stick shift is right in the space between third and fourth gear, rather than between 1 and 2. Annex to FF#2: it is possible to start a car in third gear, but it is slow going.
The apartment is as small as I had figured, but laid out differently. It should be okay for us for the time we are in it. И Ю and I left the Lada behind, and dashed out to get a sim card for my phone (no luck getting Andi’s for now – it’ll have to wait until we get a registered location), then over to his place for dinner and to pick up a tv and land phone he’s loaning me. For now, it looks like DSL will be possible, but will take at least two weeks to get running in the apartment.
Well, I just passed out on the keyboard trying to type the next sentence. A good sign that it is time to knock off. No worries, though, I’ll be here tomorrow…
августа 25, 2006
Crossing the Frontier
8/25 05:39, Portland time
And thus I finally take the irrevocable step. My bags are checked in, and in two hours (+/-) I get on a plane to Chicago. And from there, the next chunk of my life.
I've spent the last couple days explicitly focused on closing off this last chapter. Getting together with family, calling people, seeing places, being in the Northwest. A, the kids, and I went with my dad up to Seattle on Tuesday to get their visas in person at the Russian consulate. Even though the process was as simple as I could have hoped, and I'm sure A could have done it herself (or done it by mail), I'm glad we went. Not just to see my dad (though that was the biggest part); we got to ride the ferry out of Seattle to Bremerton; wake up right up from the Sound; see the sunset over the Olympics; and go one last time up and down the corridor we've travelled so many times. Back in Portland since Wednesday, A and I took her father's bike out yesterday over the hills west of Portland to see my brother and sisters (and nephews). It's not sleeping on the beach, but it'll do for a send-off.
Of course, the big drama is that we ran so close to the wire on the invitations for A and the kids that we changed their tickets. I'm flying solo today/tomorrow, and spending this coming week working and figuring out where things are, then going out to Warsaw to meet them on next Monday and all fly home (not where I am sitting right now, anymore...) together. As A points out, this will be the first time that I will be home, while they are out of town. I'd rather that were not the case, but at least I'll get a chance to make things a bit more homey before they get there. There'll be plenty for them to worry about without that.
As for the rest? I spoke with И Ю (maybe just И from now on? I'll consider...) late last night. He's got the car set up for us, and has started strategizing on how best to import all of our stuff with the minimum of customs costs. Legally, of course -- but there are many perfectly legitimate ways to get things done in Russia, too.
In 20-or-so hours I'm going to be deposited in my new home. The sky is brightening over the trees of Government Island; there are a few clouds scudding along in the east. This is a good day.
And thus I finally take the irrevocable step. My bags are checked in, and in two hours (+/-) I get on a plane to Chicago. And from there, the next chunk of my life.
I've spent the last couple days explicitly focused on closing off this last chapter. Getting together with family, calling people, seeing places, being in the Northwest. A, the kids, and I went with my dad up to Seattle on Tuesday to get their visas in person at the Russian consulate. Even though the process was as simple as I could have hoped, and I'm sure A could have done it herself (or done it by mail), I'm glad we went. Not just to see my dad (though that was the biggest part); we got to ride the ferry out of Seattle to Bremerton; wake up right up from the Sound; see the sunset over the Olympics; and go one last time up and down the corridor we've travelled so many times. Back in Portland since Wednesday, A and I took her father's bike out yesterday over the hills west of Portland to see my brother and sisters (and nephews). It's not sleeping on the beach, but it'll do for a send-off.
Of course, the big drama is that we ran so close to the wire on the invitations for A and the kids that we changed their tickets. I'm flying solo today/tomorrow, and spending this coming week working and figuring out where things are, then going out to Warsaw to meet them on next Monday and all fly home (not where I am sitting right now, anymore...) together. As A points out, this will be the first time that I will be home, while they are out of town. I'd rather that were not the case, but at least I'll get a chance to make things a bit more homey before they get there. There'll be plenty for them to worry about without that.
As for the rest? I spoke with И Ю (maybe just И from now on? I'll consider...) late last night. He's got the car set up for us, and has started strategizing on how best to import all of our stuff with the minimum of customs costs. Legally, of course -- but there are many perfectly legitimate ways to get things done in Russia, too.
In 20-or-so hours I'm going to be deposited in my new home. The sky is brightening over the trees of Government Island; there are a few clouds scudding along in the east. This is a good day.
августа 14, 2006
The next step
I've been silent for a bit now, but that should never be taken to mean that things are not silently percolating. Perk they most certainly do.
And so now, I make the Grand Announcement: on 25 August of this year, A, Z, G, and I will board the first of several aircraft that will take us to our new home-for-a-time in Saint-Petersburg. There, I will be working for И Ю, A will be studying medicine, and Z and G will be learning (among other things) how to speak better than their parents, as well as a host of historical and cultural mythology that sits well outside either of our backgrounds. Very exciting for all.
The history:
You will recall, perhaps, during my last time in Brisbane, the situation concerning The Company and the Russian market had grown dire. One evening, I phoned И Ю for a social sort of chat; along the way, I inquired, off-the-cuff, if his company was perhaps interested in the exhorbitant cost of having an American on staff. To my shock, his answer was, "we've discussed it; I'll have to get more details and get back to you."
This alone went a long way towards brightening the balance of my time Down Under.
Shortly upon arrival -- and I was surprised just how shortly, though I've gotten more used to it in the past couple months -- back in Portland, И Ю contacted me to tell me that he and his business partner were in agreement in principle, but that they were concerned by the whole 'exhorbitant' thing and how much did I need to make to keep the whole thing worthwhile? We talked taxes, cost of living, and so forth, and came up in a couple of days with a number that works well for everyone. During this time, A was brought into consultation. She discovered, via the business partner, И В, that Saint-Petersburg is home to a well-reknowned medical school that teaches a fair number of foreign students, offering classes in English, even. That brought her over strongly in favor of the offer.
It went by in a flash after that; contract negotiations, finding a school for the kids, a place to live upon arrival (once our house in Portland sells, A and I plan to look to buy one in Saint-Petersburg; for the interim, we will be in a 'two-room' apartment).
And then, ten days ago I put in my notice at The Company. Last Wednesday, we loaded our cars into the back of a refrigerator trailer. This past weekend, we loaded our house stuff into another trailer. Arrangements have been made to hold on to our pets in Portland until we've had a week or so to settle in, and can send for them. Plane tickets are in hand. A and the kids are all packed. The official invitation letters from the immigration offices in Petersburg have been issued. We have only to get the letters, turn them around into visas (necessitating a trip to Seattle early next week, it appears), and make it to the airport on time.
The character of this log may or may not change significantly. I will, however, at least try to maintain my previous level of mediocre quality and prolific quantity. We go with what we know...
And so now, I make the Grand Announcement: on 25 August of this year, A, Z, G, and I will board the first of several aircraft that will take us to our new home-for-a-time in Saint-Petersburg. There, I will be working for И Ю, A will be studying medicine, and Z and G will be learning (among other things) how to speak better than their parents, as well as a host of historical and cultural mythology that sits well outside either of our backgrounds. Very exciting for all.
The history:
You will recall, perhaps, during my last time in Brisbane, the situation concerning The Company and the Russian market had grown dire. One evening, I phoned И Ю for a social sort of chat; along the way, I inquired, off-the-cuff, if his company was perhaps interested in the exhorbitant cost of having an American on staff. To my shock, his answer was, "we've discussed it; I'll have to get more details and get back to you."
This alone went a long way towards brightening the balance of my time Down Under.
Shortly upon arrival -- and I was surprised just how shortly, though I've gotten more used to it in the past couple months -- back in Portland, И Ю contacted me to tell me that he and his business partner were in agreement in principle, but that they were concerned by the whole 'exhorbitant' thing and how much did I need to make to keep the whole thing worthwhile? We talked taxes, cost of living, and so forth, and came up in a couple of days with a number that works well for everyone. During this time, A was brought into consultation. She discovered, via the business partner, И В, that Saint-Petersburg is home to a well-reknowned medical school that teaches a fair number of foreign students, offering classes in English, even. That brought her over strongly in favor of the offer.
It went by in a flash after that; contract negotiations, finding a school for the kids, a place to live upon arrival (once our house in Portland sells, A and I plan to look to buy one in Saint-Petersburg; for the interim, we will be in a 'two-room' apartment).
And then, ten days ago I put in my notice at The Company. Last Wednesday, we loaded our cars into the back of a refrigerator trailer. This past weekend, we loaded our house stuff into another trailer. Arrangements have been made to hold on to our pets in Portland until we've had a week or so to settle in, and can send for them. Plane tickets are in hand. A and the kids are all packed. The official invitation letters from the immigration offices in Petersburg have been issued. We have only to get the letters, turn them around into visas (necessitating a trip to Seattle early next week, it appears), and make it to the airport on time.
The character of this log may or may not change significantly. I will, however, at least try to maintain my previous level of mediocre quality and prolific quantity. We go with what we know...
