сентября 29, 2006
Month
9/29 15:58, Pushkin time
Again a long hiatus.
On Wednesday, A and I travelled with a couple other people down to Velikiy Novgorod, the capital city of the south-neighboring oblast. Having not read up on it at all (when would we have the time?), we were surprised to learn that in fact it is one of the oldest cities in all of Russia, and considered to be the birthplace fo the Russian state. Founded significantly earlier, the fortress wall around the city is the oldest part of it, having been built in 862AD (!!!). It was built to help defend against the Mongols (!!!). From that city began and culminated the consolidation of the aristocracy, both Russian dynasties, and the conquest of everything that constituted the Russian empire up until 200 years ago. The cathedral inside the fortress was built 'only' 1000 or so years ago; the east bridge out over the river Volkhov is one of the main places where Ivar the 4th earned him moniker 'Terrible'; and so forth until the mind is boggled. There's a big monument in the middle of the city that was built to celebrate the millenial anniversary -- 150 years ago. The age of these things verges on unreasonable. But that's history... It's fortunately close enough to us (maybe 1.5 hours drive if there's moderate traffic) that we can take peope down there when they come to visit. Well worth the time.
Yesterday was simpy a very busy working day (today, too, for that matter). The boys are starting to talk about things happening at school as if they are getting a foothold of a start on comprehension. Z answered the door buzzer (in Russian, of course) when I arrived to pick them up. As an aside, I had to re-up my rental car term for another week; the boat with our stuff on it has arrived, but the cars most liekly won't be in our hands until next week. The stuff-trailer should come through sooner, but when is still uncertain.
And today. Over lunch I tried to learn a couple of Russian tongue-twisters, and taught a couple of spanish ones I know. Things deteriorated when К gave me one that, after a couple repetitions, rapidly deteriorates into cursing. The frenzy of trucks that were rushed in before the September-26 change-of-rules cutoff has subsided, and we're getting back into figuring our special projects out. I am keeping occupied.
Again a long hiatus.
On Wednesday, A and I travelled with a couple other people down to Velikiy Novgorod, the capital city of the south-neighboring oblast. Having not read up on it at all (when would we have the time?), we were surprised to learn that in fact it is one of the oldest cities in all of Russia, and considered to be the birthplace fo the Russian state. Founded significantly earlier, the fortress wall around the city is the oldest part of it, having been built in 862AD (!!!). It was built to help defend against the Mongols (!!!). From that city began and culminated the consolidation of the aristocracy, both Russian dynasties, and the conquest of everything that constituted the Russian empire up until 200 years ago. The cathedral inside the fortress was built 'only' 1000 or so years ago; the east bridge out over the river Volkhov is one of the main places where Ivar the 4th earned him moniker 'Terrible'; and so forth until the mind is boggled. There's a big monument in the middle of the city that was built to celebrate the millenial anniversary -- 150 years ago. The age of these things verges on unreasonable. But that's history... It's fortunately close enough to us (maybe 1.5 hours drive if there's moderate traffic) that we can take peope down there when they come to visit. Well worth the time.
Yesterday was simpy a very busy working day (today, too, for that matter). The boys are starting to talk about things happening at school as if they are getting a foothold of a start on comprehension. Z answered the door buzzer (in Russian, of course) when I arrived to pick them up. As an aside, I had to re-up my rental car term for another week; the boat with our stuff on it has arrived, but the cars most liekly won't be in our hands until next week. The stuff-trailer should come through sooner, but when is still uncertain.
And today. Over lunch I tried to learn a couple of Russian tongue-twisters, and taught a couple of spanish ones I know. Things deteriorated when К gave me one that, after a couple repetitions, rapidly deteriorates into cursing. The frenzy of trucks that were rushed in before the September-26 change-of-rules cutoff has subsided, and we're getting back into figuring our special projects out. I am keeping occupied.
сентября 25, 2006
So.
9/26 10:44, Pushkin time
Yesterday saw a semi-resolution (or at least the beginnings of a semi-resolution) for several of the difficulties that arose late last week. A and I visited the preschool at lunchtime and managed to convince -- perhaps 'trick' would be more accurate -- G to eat the bulk of his lunch. Z has kicked the week off excellently on that front, so for now no big dramas. One thing we've discovered (only slightly behind his teacher) is that G seems to be afraid of, or at least moderately concerned by the presence of sediment in the things he is supposed ot eat or drink. He very carefully skims the broth off the top of a soup, and quits as soon as the actual food stuffs at the bottom have been disturbed enough to make the broth opaque; similarly, he'll refuse to drink tea or juice if there is leaf-grit or pulp on the bottom of the cup. It's no wonder, seeing how he reacts to the vast majority of normal foods served at school, that his teachers have been going mildly crazy over lunchtimes.
Sitting with Z, the director of the school happened by, said hi, and we got to talking (well, me saying a couple of halting words, and her responding in lightning-speed paragraphs) about the kids' language lessons. I got to meet the language teacher, who was on vacation these last couple weeks, and she seems from first impression to be up to the task of getting the kids speaking more quickly than they are doing on their own. We'll be getting on fridays a sort of summary/lesson plan to do vocabulary stuff over the weekends. This should be a big help for A and I, too, since my vocabulary outside the trucking field is sparse to say the best.
Then second, this morning, I zpoke directly to the representative at Pulkovo airport for the air cargo outfit that will be transporting our pets. She indicated that the cold-weather restrictions are only for baby animals, birds, and otehr critters that might not even be able to survive a couple gusts of wind; for adult mammals, there are no cold weather restrictions, as they do get them under cover and in heated space very quickly off the landing airplanes. So that stress is alleviated. Two semi-down -- not such a bad start for a week.
The first part of this week, another colleague of И's from the US (Tampa, more specifically) is in town. Since he's been to Petersburg more than a dozen times over the past six years, we've had to get a bit creative in coming up with sightseeing events. So, on Wednesday, A and I were invited to go along (in fact, as it works out, I'm driving us) on a guided tour of Velikiy [that's Великий - 'Great' (as opposed to 'Nizhny/Нижний/Low')] Novgorod, the capital city of Novgorod Oblast, the 'state' bordering ours on the south-east. The drive will be maybe 1.5 hours, and it is a close second to Petersburg in the range of 'Imperial stomping grounds'. Hopefuly it will be good; for sure it is a chance to get out and see a bit more of the place we find ourselves.
As for working? Yes, I'm still doing that, too. The designs for my first major product are coming together comfortably well, and my contacts at the factory-across-the-street at which one major component will be built up from sheet metal are enthusiastic about taking on the project. I've also put together the first training course we'll be offering under my tenure here (to run the week of 9 October), a sizeable percentage of the per-student tuition of which will be affording me my first non-salary-based income of this endeavor. Woohoo.
Yesterday saw a semi-resolution (or at least the beginnings of a semi-resolution) for several of the difficulties that arose late last week. A and I visited the preschool at lunchtime and managed to convince -- perhaps 'trick' would be more accurate -- G to eat the bulk of his lunch. Z has kicked the week off excellently on that front, so for now no big dramas. One thing we've discovered (only slightly behind his teacher) is that G seems to be afraid of, or at least moderately concerned by the presence of sediment in the things he is supposed ot eat or drink. He very carefully skims the broth off the top of a soup, and quits as soon as the actual food stuffs at the bottom have been disturbed enough to make the broth opaque; similarly, he'll refuse to drink tea or juice if there is leaf-grit or pulp on the bottom of the cup. It's no wonder, seeing how he reacts to the vast majority of normal foods served at school, that his teachers have been going mildly crazy over lunchtimes.
Sitting with Z, the director of the school happened by, said hi, and we got to talking (well, me saying a couple of halting words, and her responding in lightning-speed paragraphs) about the kids' language lessons. I got to meet the language teacher, who was on vacation these last couple weeks, and she seems from first impression to be up to the task of getting the kids speaking more quickly than they are doing on their own. We'll be getting on fridays a sort of summary/lesson plan to do vocabulary stuff over the weekends. This should be a big help for A and I, too, since my vocabulary outside the trucking field is sparse to say the best.
Then second, this morning, I zpoke directly to the representative at Pulkovo airport for the air cargo outfit that will be transporting our pets. She indicated that the cold-weather restrictions are only for baby animals, birds, and otehr critters that might not even be able to survive a couple gusts of wind; for adult mammals, there are no cold weather restrictions, as they do get them under cover and in heated space very quickly off the landing airplanes. So that stress is alleviated. Two semi-down -- not such a bad start for a week.
The first part of this week, another colleague of И's from the US (Tampa, more specifically) is in town. Since he's been to Petersburg more than a dozen times over the past six years, we've had to get a bit creative in coming up with sightseeing events. So, on Wednesday, A and I were invited to go along (in fact, as it works out, I'm driving us) on a guided tour of Velikiy [that's Великий - 'Great' (as opposed to 'Nizhny/Нижний/Low')] Novgorod, the capital city of Novgorod Oblast, the 'state' bordering ours on the south-east. The drive will be maybe 1.5 hours, and it is a close second to Petersburg in the range of 'Imperial stomping grounds'. Hopefuly it will be good; for sure it is a chance to get out and see a bit more of the place we find ourselves.
As for working? Yes, I'm still doing that, too. The designs for my first major product are coming together comfortably well, and my contacts at the factory-across-the-street at which one major component will be built up from sheet metal are enthusiastic about taking on the project. I've also put together the first training course we'll be offering under my tenure here (to run the week of 9 October), a sizeable percentage of the per-student tuition of which will be affording me my first non-salary-based income of this endeavor. Woohoo.
сентября 24, 2006
Doings and Happenings
9/25 10:46, Pushkin time
Wow. A long, dry spell right after we got the home DSL up and running.. Who'd have thought...
Anyway, we are up and running (and Skypeing as the clocks syncronize) and back to first-world operating conditions. The boys are picking up new words left and right, and A has started making a bit of progress too, with the help of her tutor up in the north of the city. Unfortunately, the beginning of her progress has coincided with some somewhat unfortunate events to make, on balance, things quite tough. First is that her system has finally started to react to the non-native kitchen bugs (or to the absence of her native bugs, as if it makes a difference..), the working-out of which is a pretty crummy process and can take several weeks. Second, the terror (which you may recall from my first week here; I sure do..) has set in for her -- it's hard to say exactly when that will pass, though activity is proving to hold it at bay. Third, we discovered that the medical school that was previously offering classes in English has cancelled this year that program, as it was very difficult to do meaningful practical work with patients that didn't speak the same language as the students -- we've started making inquiries around to find out if this is a localized issue, if maybe a nursing program exists in English (then maybe a transfer out of it to the full med if she wants, once her language skills are up to par), or if some other work-aroud can be figured. Still, a very discouraging thing. Fourth, we are running into trouble getting the pets over in a timely manner. And fifth, К came to me on Friday to tell me that, stopping by to check on G and Z that morning, their teachers both expressed very serious concern about the whole not-eating-lunch issue. Likely, they had been trying to make the situation clear to me, but it had been going over my head; apparently Z has been 'misleading' us about how well he has been lunching, and G is still doig no better than he was on day one. To begin the remedying process, A and I will be stopping in at lunchtime today to encourage the both of them to cooperate. Still, it's a bunch of crap to fall on her head all at once.
So distraction (per the advice of several immigrant-with-family colleagues in the US, a necessary tactic to help the assimilation process along) has been pretty important on teh weekends.
Saturday, we took the boys to the haircut place A had found in Pushkin. G's first time in a cutting chair was surprisingly noneventful. Z's as well, though he's got a bit more experience than his little brother. We're concerned that, perhaps because he sat still so very well, his hair got cut pretty short. And with winter coming on, that could be a not-so-good thing. After the haircuts, A wanted to stop by the video-and-software store. We found a legitimate (as much as you can call any such thing here) copy of the first Harry Potter movie for 90 rubles (~$3), and wrapped the day out napping and watching the movie.
Sunday, we went into the city -- by car this time. It being one of the last weekends of the good weather season, the city was nearly emptied out of road traffic; it took us less than 20 minuted to get to Nevskiy Prospekt, even though our drive took us right along hte route of the Saint-Petersburg Marathon (which was also happening that day; I wondered with the roads still open to car traffic, and the runners having to share with the cars, how many automobile-related injuries they see every year). In town, we stopped at a hotdogs-and-shauerma (you may remeber; one of my staples during my weeks in Vladivostok) stand for lunch, did some walking-shopping (the kids were in dire need of more play stuff, so the Lego store was a fortunate find), and ended up at the big bookstore, where A was able to find a couple of Russian-for-foreigners books. Then baсk to the car, and back to home, also pretty much un-trafficked. We were able, from teh car, to scope out a few more places that will bear further study. As A said, though you can get somewhere fast by car, it's a terribe way to see a city.
Wow. A long, dry spell right after we got the home DSL up and running.. Who'd have thought...
Anyway, we are up and running (and Skypeing as the clocks syncronize) and back to first-world operating conditions. The boys are picking up new words left and right, and A has started making a bit of progress too, with the help of her tutor up in the north of the city. Unfortunately, the beginning of her progress has coincided with some somewhat unfortunate events to make, on balance, things quite tough. First is that her system has finally started to react to the non-native kitchen bugs (or to the absence of her native bugs, as if it makes a difference..), the working-out of which is a pretty crummy process and can take several weeks. Second, the terror (which you may recall from my first week here; I sure do..) has set in for her -- it's hard to say exactly when that will pass, though activity is proving to hold it at bay. Third, we discovered that the medical school that was previously offering classes in English has cancelled this year that program, as it was very difficult to do meaningful practical work with patients that didn't speak the same language as the students -- we've started making inquiries around to find out if this is a localized issue, if maybe a nursing program exists in English (then maybe a transfer out of it to the full med if she wants, once her language skills are up to par), or if some other work-aroud can be figured. Still, a very discouraging thing. Fourth, we are running into trouble getting the pets over in a timely manner. And fifth, К came to me on Friday to tell me that, stopping by to check on G and Z that morning, their teachers both expressed very serious concern about the whole not-eating-lunch issue. Likely, they had been trying to make the situation clear to me, but it had been going over my head; apparently Z has been 'misleading' us about how well he has been lunching, and G is still doig no better than he was on day one. To begin the remedying process, A and I will be stopping in at lunchtime today to encourage the both of them to cooperate. Still, it's a bunch of crap to fall on her head all at once.
So distraction (per the advice of several immigrant-with-family colleagues in the US, a necessary tactic to help the assimilation process along) has been pretty important on teh weekends.
Saturday, we took the boys to the haircut place A had found in Pushkin. G's first time in a cutting chair was surprisingly noneventful. Z's as well, though he's got a bit more experience than his little brother. We're concerned that, perhaps because he sat still so very well, his hair got cut pretty short. And with winter coming on, that could be a not-so-good thing. After the haircuts, A wanted to stop by the video-and-software store. We found a legitimate (as much as you can call any such thing here) copy of the first Harry Potter movie for 90 rubles (~$3), and wrapped the day out napping and watching the movie.
Sunday, we went into the city -- by car this time. It being one of the last weekends of the good weather season, the city was nearly emptied out of road traffic; it took us less than 20 minuted to get to Nevskiy Prospekt, even though our drive took us right along hte route of the Saint-Petersburg Marathon (which was also happening that day; I wondered with the roads still open to car traffic, and the runners having to share with the cars, how many automobile-related injuries they see every year). In town, we stopped at a hotdogs-and-shauerma (you may remeber; one of my staples during my weeks in Vladivostok) stand for lunch, did some walking-shopping (the kids were in dire need of more play stuff, so the Lego store was a fortunate find), and ended up at the big bookstore, where A was able to find a couple of Russian-for-foreigners books. Then baсk to the car, and back to home, also pretty much un-trafficked. We were able, from teh car, to scope out a few more places that will bear further study. As A said, though you can get somewhere fast by car, it's a terribe way to see a city.
сентября 21, 2006
Civilized Once More!
9/21 11:40, Pushkin time
I accidentally discovered the source of our connectivity problems with our home DSL. The socket that И installed on my first day here was not put together tightly enough, and the plug wasn't making solid enough contact. That fixed, we are now back in contact with the world again (though A still has to figure out how to get our Skype past the firewall -- a task perhaps already completed by now; knowing her, she's been working on it since this morning). Feel free to expect photos and further updates on her website fairly soon. We bought last week a CD with the full suite of MS Office programs for 120r (maybe five bucks..), Russian language version. But programs are programs, and I don't anticipate much difficulty.
Yesterday, the guy from California who helped us set up the shipping of our belongings -- and who also acts as one of И's truck brokers in the US -- came to town. Today, then, having finished the meetings, И's receptionist, Ю, is taking him to some of the sights in Pushkin, and they've invited A and I along for lunch and the whatnot -- though we'll be using our Lada, which presents a particularly special unexpected treat for the broker... Maybe we'll get some pictures, probably not, but we do get a chance to have guided-tour by a local, which is always nice.
I accidentally discovered the source of our connectivity problems with our home DSL. The socket that И installed on my first day here was not put together tightly enough, and the plug wasn't making solid enough contact. That fixed, we are now back in contact with the world again (though A still has to figure out how to get our Skype past the firewall -- a task perhaps already completed by now; knowing her, she's been working on it since this morning). Feel free to expect photos and further updates on her website fairly soon. We bought last week a CD with the full suite of MS Office programs for 120r (maybe five bucks..), Russian language version. But programs are programs, and I don't anticipate much difficulty.
Yesterday, the guy from California who helped us set up the shipping of our belongings -- and who also acts as one of И's truck brokers in the US -- came to town. Today, then, having finished the meetings, И's receptionist, Ю, is taking him to some of the sights in Pushkin, and they've invited A and I along for lunch and the whatnot -- though we'll be using our Lada, which presents a particularly special unexpected treat for the broker... Maybe we'll get some pictures, probably not, but we do get a chance to have guided-tour by a local, which is always nice.
сентября 20, 2006
Blissfully Legal
9/20 12:30, Pushkin time
Yesterday I left work a little bit early, catching a ride with the cook to the Immigration office to pick up our registration paperwork. All by myself, and I got it done without a hitch (well, there was a nervous part where the bureaucrat lady asked if we had already paid for the registrations; I, without any cash on hand, was very pleaed to learn that the answer was 'yes'). Then, since A was still making her way out of Petersburg after her first day of tutoring over at the medical school in the north part of the city, I walked over to the kids' preschool to pick them up, then walked with them most of the way home (A met us at the Egyptian Gates and drove us the rest of the way back). I was very amused that G told his teacher до свидания [do svidaniya -- goodbye] on the way out. Z stuck with пока [poka - later]. Both boys were very entertained by the walk through one of the park-type areas around the city-proper. Z informed me that he also knows the words for crow and mushroom -- he's apparently a mushroom-finder extraordinaire, never failing to come up with at least a few every time his group is outside. The boys are visibly getting into it, which is something of a comfort to me.
Evening found the DSL still not working. Today, Е П -- who has the same equipment as us, if not the same provider -- has promised to come by and try swapping-out gear to see if we have a hardware issue. It becoes more and more frustrating...
This morning found the kids in good spirits, both insisting that, instead of pancakes (what has become our standard breakfast fare now that we're not in a rush in the mornings) they wanted bowls of Kosmostars -- the honey-covered tar-shaped cereal that almost immediately became their favorite. The breakfast cereal selection around here isn't terribly great, compared with the US, but they have representatives of most every type (just fewer of them). You can find your plain corn flakes, cheerio-type (with and without honey), froot loop-type, kibble-with-marshmallows-type, and so forth. The boxes they come in are a bit smaller (based on weights inround numbers of grams, rather than round numbers of ounces, likely..) but otherwise they are perfectly servicable, as the boys will attest.
Then at the preschool this morning, even more delight -- G's teacher tells me that he has more than a dozen words and phrases that he says, the most complicated of which yesterday was, "снимал мою шапку" [snimal moyu shapku - I took off my hat]. A complete sentence, actually! Z is attacking the language in a more methodical manner, but he's not freaked out by being jabbered at anymore, and is starting to pass along to us explanations that he can only have received at school. And A is off at the med school in the city again today. Settling in is nice, even if it's only superficial at this point.
And now, I look out my window to see that the rain that the looming sky has been promising since this morning has finally arrived. With lightning and thunder, even. Good times.
Yesterday I left work a little bit early, catching a ride with the cook to the Immigration office to pick up our registration paperwork. All by myself, and I got it done without a hitch (well, there was a nervous part where the bureaucrat lady asked if we had already paid for the registrations; I, without any cash on hand, was very pleaed to learn that the answer was 'yes'). Then, since A was still making her way out of Petersburg after her first day of tutoring over at the medical school in the north part of the city, I walked over to the kids' preschool to pick them up, then walked with them most of the way home (A met us at the Egyptian Gates and drove us the rest of the way back). I was very amused that G told his teacher до свидания [do svidaniya -- goodbye] on the way out. Z stuck with пока [poka - later]. Both boys were very entertained by the walk through one of the park-type areas around the city-proper. Z informed me that he also knows the words for crow and mushroom -- he's apparently a mushroom-finder extraordinaire, never failing to come up with at least a few every time his group is outside. The boys are visibly getting into it, which is something of a comfort to me.
Evening found the DSL still not working. Today, Е П -- who has the same equipment as us, if not the same provider -- has promised to come by and try swapping-out gear to see if we have a hardware issue. It becoes more and more frustrating...
This morning found the kids in good spirits, both insisting that, instead of pancakes (what has become our standard breakfast fare now that we're not in a rush in the mornings) they wanted bowls of Kosmostars -- the honey-covered tar-shaped cereal that almost immediately became their favorite. The breakfast cereal selection around here isn't terribly great, compared with the US, but they have representatives of most every type (just fewer of them). You can find your plain corn flakes, cheerio-type (with and without honey), froot loop-type, kibble-with-marshmallows-type, and so forth. The boxes they come in are a bit smaller (based on weights inround numbers of grams, rather than round numbers of ounces, likely..) but otherwise they are perfectly servicable, as the boys will attest.
Then at the preschool this morning, even more delight -- G's teacher tells me that he has more than a dozen words and phrases that he says, the most complicated of which yesterday was, "снимал мою шапку" [snimal moyu shapku - I took off my hat]. A complete sentence, actually! Z is attacking the language in a more methodical manner, but he's not freaked out by being jabbered at anymore, and is starting to pass along to us explanations that he can only have received at school. And A is off at the med school in the city again today. Settling in is nice, even if it's only superficial at this point.
And now, I look out my window to see that the rain that the looming sky has been promising since this morning has finally arrived. With lightning and thunder, even. Good times.
сентября 18, 2006
Waiting Still
9/19 10:28, Pushkin time
Е П, a colleague from work, came by last night to try to figure out why our DSL wasn't working. He poked around, exlained a few things to me (while I understood the words of what he was saing just fine, it seems the subject matter content was a bit above my head) and the gist of it is, we can expect our home connection to be up and working this evening. Expect, but as I am learning here, leave open the possibility of temporary disappointment.
Today in theory I should be picking up our registered migration cards; however, A has a meeting way over on the north side of town this afternoon, and I'm doubtful that she'll even make it back in time to pick me up from work. Fortunately, seveeral people have offered to drive me over to the kids' preschool (and from there, it is a relatively short walk home). The benefits of a small town...
Е П, a colleague from work, came by last night to try to figure out why our DSL wasn't working. He poked around, exlained a few things to me (while I understood the words of what he was saing just fine, it seems the subject matter content was a bit above my head) and the gist of it is, we can expect our home connection to be up and working this evening. Expect, but as I am learning here, leave open the possibility of temporary disappointment.
Today in theory I should be picking up our registered migration cards; however, A has a meeting way over on the north side of town this afternoon, and I'm doubtful that she'll even make it back in time to pick me up from work. Fortunately, seveeral people have offered to drive me over to the kids' preschool (and from there, it is a relatively short walk home). The benefits of a small town...
The Weekend
9/18 12:46, Pushkin time
This weekend we figured to go out and do some sightseeing. First on Saturday, A took all of us out to the Aleksandrov palace (maybe 1/2 mile from our place) and the surrounding parks. The boys did well on the walk, and we did get to see some neat stuff – though, unwilling at this point to shell out any admission money, we didn’t get any closer to the Yekaterina palace than the big gates. A had already advised me that the palaces here, like the one С П and I visited two years ago, have a two-tiered admission pricing, with foreigners paying twice what locals pay. I caught sight of a sign near the ticket office mentioning free child tickets on second Fridays of the month, and went to confirm my understanding with the ticket ladies. Learning that we are relatively long-haul residents, they told me that we would only pay the ‘citizen’ price whenever we came by, and who to ask for. Pushkin’s a small enough town that I suppose they can be cool about that kind of thing.
The afternoon, we went to go see the tank monument on Kievskoye. Since making left turns can be painful on major road intersections, we hung a right off Peterburgskoye and went for the first u-turn spot. On the way there (in fact, all the way from our driveway on Peterburgskoye), every fifty or hundred yards were sitting ДПС (DPS - traffic cops) cars. Stupidly, I pulled into the left lane, and got almost instantly flagged down by a ДПС guy. Crap. So, I grabbed all the necessary car-related paperwork, got out, was led to the passenger side of the cop’s car, and got in next to him to talk. He started off by telling me that he had clocked me (how? His hands were empty and he wasn’t in his car…) going 107kph, and that the limit on the road is 60. A) I don’t go faster than traffic – which was at maybe 90 – when I’m looking for a turnoff; and B) I’m pretty sure my Lada isn’t even capable of getting to 100 inside of 5km of pedal-to-the-floor acceleration, and I was still within sight of the place that I had turned onto this road. But fine; I told him this, but he went right over me, saying that I was more than 40 over the limit, and that he understood that it is a nice road, but… and so forth. Eventually, he comes right to the point, and asks me, “Should I write out a ticket?” To which I answered, “No need, how much is the fine?” (I knew this part was coming, but didn’t know the etiquette surrounding it). He answers, “Well, how much would the fine be where you’re from?” And I, “maybe..300 rubles?” [that’s 10-11 dollars]. To which he answers that that amount will be just fine. So, I pull out my money bag and open it up, and he gets a bit agitated and tells me to hold it down lower and not near the window where everyone can see (just in case, I suppose, I wasn’t already clear on what was going on…). I give him the 300, he reminds me to drive safe with kids in the car, and off I go. A says she got nervous when I got into the cop car, but now she knows better. So, a new running tally: Money paid to cops in Russia: 300r. It’s certain not to be my last encounter for the next couple years..
The tank park was pretty okay, though the kids were disappointed that they weren’t allowed to play on both of the tanks – one was covered with broken glass. A took some pictures (see below). From the signage, it looks like this park commemorates the October Revolution, though the tanks look a bit more modern than I would have expected.
Sunday, we started out with a walk down to just past the Pushkin border sign to another monument consisting of a set of artillery guns. As these were clean, the kids got to climb all over, then on the way back we found the victory park and spent a bit of time there, even going up to the hill that – according to the plaque – marks the point from which the first counterattack of the breaking of the German siege began. More pictures.
Evening was И’s birthday party. The kids had – as they seem to do – a good time, and a grandpa was there to keep all the young attendees occupied. Everyone was very amused by my traffic-stop story, perhaps most so by the exorbitant amount at which I began my bidding. Several people (in fact, almost everyone there) told me that you should offer a starting bid of no more than 50r, and not pay more than 100r ever – with the five exceptions that, by law can get your license yanked; for those, expect to pay 500-700r. No big deal, though now A and I know better.
This weekend we figured to go out and do some sightseeing. First on Saturday, A took all of us out to the Aleksandrov palace (maybe 1/2 mile from our place) and the surrounding parks. The boys did well on the walk, and we did get to see some neat stuff – though, unwilling at this point to shell out any admission money, we didn’t get any closer to the Yekaterina palace than the big gates. A had already advised me that the palaces here, like the one С П and I visited two years ago, have a two-tiered admission pricing, with foreigners paying twice what locals pay. I caught sight of a sign near the ticket office mentioning free child tickets on second Fridays of the month, and went to confirm my understanding with the ticket ladies. Learning that we are relatively long-haul residents, they told me that we would only pay the ‘citizen’ price whenever we came by, and who to ask for. Pushkin’s a small enough town that I suppose they can be cool about that kind of thing.
The afternoon, we went to go see the tank monument on Kievskoye. Since making left turns can be painful on major road intersections, we hung a right off Peterburgskoye and went for the first u-turn spot. On the way there (in fact, all the way from our driveway on Peterburgskoye), every fifty or hundred yards were sitting ДПС (DPS - traffic cops) cars. Stupidly, I pulled into the left lane, and got almost instantly flagged down by a ДПС guy. Crap. So, I grabbed all the necessary car-related paperwork, got out, was led to the passenger side of the cop’s car, and got in next to him to talk. He started off by telling me that he had clocked me (how? His hands were empty and he wasn’t in his car…) going 107kph, and that the limit on the road is 60. A) I don’t go faster than traffic – which was at maybe 90 – when I’m looking for a turnoff; and B) I’m pretty sure my Lada isn’t even capable of getting to 100 inside of 5km of pedal-to-the-floor acceleration, and I was still within sight of the place that I had turned onto this road. But fine; I told him this, but he went right over me, saying that I was more than 40 over the limit, and that he understood that it is a nice road, but… and so forth. Eventually, he comes right to the point, and asks me, “Should I write out a ticket?” To which I answered, “No need, how much is the fine?” (I knew this part was coming, but didn’t know the etiquette surrounding it). He answers, “Well, how much would the fine be where you’re from?” And I, “maybe..300 rubles?” [that’s 10-11 dollars]. To which he answers that that amount will be just fine. So, I pull out my money bag and open it up, and he gets a bit agitated and tells me to hold it down lower and not near the window where everyone can see (just in case, I suppose, I wasn’t already clear on what was going on…). I give him the 300, he reminds me to drive safe with kids in the car, and off I go. A says she got nervous when I got into the cop car, but now she knows better. So, a new running tally: Money paid to cops in Russia: 300r. It’s certain not to be my last encounter for the next couple years..
The tank park was pretty okay, though the kids were disappointed that they weren’t allowed to play on both of the tanks – one was covered with broken glass. A took some pictures (see below). From the signage, it looks like this park commemorates the October Revolution, though the tanks look a bit more modern than I would have expected.
Sunday, we started out with a walk down to just past the Pushkin border sign to another monument consisting of a set of artillery guns. As these were clean, the kids got to climb all over, then on the way back we found the victory park and spent a bit of time there, even going up to the hill that – according to the plaque – marks the point from which the first counterattack of the breaking of the German siege began. More pictures.
Evening was И’s birthday party. The kids had – as they seem to do – a good time, and a grandpa was there to keep all the young attendees occupied. Everyone was very amused by my traffic-stop story, perhaps most so by the exorbitant amount at which I began my bidding. Several people (in fact, almost everyone there) told me that you should offer a starting bid of no more than 50r, and not pay more than 100r ever – with the five exceptions that, by law can get your license yanked; for those, expect to pay 500-700r. No big deal, though now A and I know better.
Welcome to Pushkin
Tank park
Aleksandrov Palace
сентября 15, 2006
A Normal Week
9/15 11:00, Pushkin time
Once more I find that Friday has come. As we were advised beforehand (and as I had expected), the days go by very quickly when even stopping to get gas is a sort of mini-adventure.
Continuing the registration saga, И В and I took our pile for Fros 1 and 9, along with the several photocpoied and original documents they needed, and so forth -- people here take notes every time they meet with a bureaucrat to make sure that they don't forget or improperly organize a single item in the voluminous piles required to get anything done -- to the Immigration office, met with the nice lady bureaucrat, and got the registration process officially started. I had to leave behid the migration cards, to be picked up on the 19th; in exchange I was given a pair of 'permits' for A and I to give to anyone who wants to hassle us while we remain semi-legal, documentally-speaking.
We did a bit more exploring Wednesday evening, too. Coming back towards Puhkin on the Peterburgskoye shosse, we ran into dead-stopped traffic several kilometers away from the nearest traffic-jam-causing feature. The maps show crossovers further down Kievskoye, so we hung a u-ie (legal? umm. everyone does it...) and took the Kievskoye south over the single nearby major terrain feature, the Pulkovo hill(s). Atop those is an old observatory (old? established by Peter the Great...) that will bear some future wandering. Z noticed off to another side a monument consisting primarily of an old tank on a pedestal, but as traffic was tight on this road as well -- one lane each direction, but three lines of cars packed into the single southbound lane -- we didn't stop to look. Another one for the weekend, maybe. The crossover turned out to be the road that might take one west to Strelna (another neighborhood we are considering for once our house in Portland sells) and eventually to Estonia and points Baltic, and east through the Aleksandrovskaya neighborhood, which we don't know much about, but which has been well-recommended to us for consideration. The form of 'private home' residential areas here simply screams "growth". I hope road building keeps pace (it won't).
Last night over dinner, Z gave his brother a hand gesture neither A or I had ever seen before. I suspect it wasn't quite as strong as 'the finger' (since he presumably learned it in preschool), but it sure isn't American. That's something we weren't anticipating...
Once more I find that Friday has come. As we were advised beforehand (and as I had expected), the days go by very quickly when even stopping to get gas is a sort of mini-adventure.
Continuing the registration saga, И В and I took our pile for Fros 1 and 9, along with the several photocpoied and original documents they needed, and so forth -- people here take notes every time they meet with a bureaucrat to make sure that they don't forget or improperly organize a single item in the voluminous piles required to get anything done -- to the Immigration office, met with the nice lady bureaucrat, and got the registration process officially started. I had to leave behid the migration cards, to be picked up on the 19th; in exchange I was given a pair of 'permits' for A and I to give to anyone who wants to hassle us while we remain semi-legal, documentally-speaking.
We did a bit more exploring Wednesday evening, too. Coming back towards Puhkin on the Peterburgskoye shosse, we ran into dead-stopped traffic several kilometers away from the nearest traffic-jam-causing feature. The maps show crossovers further down Kievskoye, so we hung a u-ie (legal? umm. everyone does it...) and took the Kievskoye south over the single nearby major terrain feature, the Pulkovo hill(s). Atop those is an old observatory (old? established by Peter the Great...) that will bear some future wandering. Z noticed off to another side a monument consisting primarily of an old tank on a pedestal, but as traffic was tight on this road as well -- one lane each direction, but three lines of cars packed into the single southbound lane -- we didn't stop to look. Another one for the weekend, maybe. The crossover turned out to be the road that might take one west to Strelna (another neighborhood we are considering for once our house in Portland sells) and eventually to Estonia and points Baltic, and east through the Aleksandrovskaya neighborhood, which we don't know much about, but which has been well-recommended to us for consideration. The form of 'private home' residential areas here simply screams "growth". I hope road building keeps pace (it won't).
Last night over dinner, Z gave his brother a hand gesture neither A or I had ever seen before. I suspect it wasn't quite as strong as 'the finger' (since he presumably learned it in preschool), but it sure isn't American. That's something we weren't anticipating...
сентября 13, 2006
Busy
9/13 17:54, Pushkin time
I'm late getting to this today; there were a lot of things to do.
Last night, we had an early dinner and went out to get som emore milk (it is sold in liter-sized packages, and from one company it can be stored unrefrigerated for up to six months. A is willing to accept those claims, and I'll not argue with her. So we went over to a supermarket near the city to buy a crate of liter-packs of milk, some bananas (from Ecuador this time of year, it seems), and more eggs.
G learned how to say "спасибо" ('thank you' -- 'spaseebo') leaving school yesterday, and has been delighted ever since every time he hears it on the street. Z still remains aloof about the whole language thing for the time being, though when we picked them up from school, I was beset upon by a girl in his class who informed me (in Russian) that my son spoke good english, but not enough russian, to which I responded that so did I. She was tickled and gave me a 'hello', then Z a 'bye-bye'. Maybe that's his angle...
Before getting the milk, A and I decided to hit the last supermarket on Kievskoye Shosse that we hadn't been to yet (so far; there are three more under construction still and probably even more to come after those). This one, however as we discovered, is a members-ony that actually restricts its membership to only businesses and/or the responsible purchasing agent for businesses. I am told today be К that even И can't get in, as he is only the owner, and not a 'buyer'. Oh, the envy...
That evening I made another interesting observation: we got out of the store at about 9:30, and it was full dark. And yet, two weeks ago when I arrived, even at 10:30, it was still light enough to read. That's two hours of daylight (morning is probably moving at the same rate) lost in two weeks. Kind of freaky, even though right around the equinox is the time of most rapid change.
Oops. The day is over. Gotta go.
Tommorow...
I'm late getting to this today; there were a lot of things to do.
Last night, we had an early dinner and went out to get som emore milk (it is sold in liter-sized packages, and from one company it can be stored unrefrigerated for up to six months. A is willing to accept those claims, and I'll not argue with her. So we went over to a supermarket near the city to buy a crate of liter-packs of milk, some bananas (from Ecuador this time of year, it seems), and more eggs.
G learned how to say "спасибо" ('thank you' -- 'spaseebo') leaving school yesterday, and has been delighted ever since every time he hears it on the street. Z still remains aloof about the whole language thing for the time being, though when we picked them up from school, I was beset upon by a girl in his class who informed me (in Russian) that my son spoke good english, but not enough russian, to which I responded that so did I. She was tickled and gave me a 'hello', then Z a 'bye-bye'. Maybe that's his angle...
Before getting the milk, A and I decided to hit the last supermarket on Kievskoye Shosse that we hadn't been to yet (so far; there are three more under construction still and probably even more to come after those). This one, however as we discovered, is a members-ony that actually restricts its membership to only businesses and/or the responsible purchasing agent for businesses. I am told today be К that even И can't get in, as he is only the owner, and not a 'buyer'. Oh, the envy...
That evening I made another interesting observation: we got out of the store at about 9:30, and it was full dark. And yet, two weeks ago when I arrived, even at 10:30, it was still light enough to read. That's two hours of daylight (morning is probably moving at the same rate) lost in two weeks. Kind of freaky, even though right around the equinox is the time of most rapid change.
Oops. The day is over. Gotta go.
Tommorow...
сентября 11, 2006
Paperwork
9/12 09:56, Pushkin time
A humorous note from yesterday. Picking the kids up from their preschool, G's teacher made the comment (while going on about what a good kid he is) that he "listens well and understands directions well". She's particularly excited, given how well he listens (no trace of sarcasm that I could detect), to get him into the swimming pool...
So. Yesterday after work, A, И В, and I went to the ЖК (the office that deals with officially associating people with particular places) and filled out forms. The clerks briefly explained how a form was to be filled out, and wouldn't accept it back until every space had somethign written in it, then would go over it and cross out sections that were done incorrectly and hand it back to you with a fresh copy. Do it again. We were fortunate in only having done one particular section wrong (the third time it asks for passport information, it means the passport information of the new resident, not the existing one.. apparently) and in only having to go through the proces twice. Some poor guy next to us was on his third try when we arrived, and was angrily beginning his sixth when we left. They don't always cross out everything you did wrong; sometimes just the first incorrect thing they come to... So that ate up 45 minutes of our time, but we are now the possesors of (one each) a filled-out-and-stamped Form 1 and Form 9, which we can [theoretically] use this afternoon at the Immigration office to get yet another form which will be accompanied by the stamping of our Migration Cards with a registration valid for six months (longer than 180 days is possible, but they hinted that there is a charge for each additional day, so we'll just spend the time to re-register).
We did find out where the school is that A will be attending; not far off a Metro station in the northern part of the city -- though on the same line that we get on in the south. Semi-unfortunately, the schools have decided this year to stop offering courses in English, since the students who do not speak Russian really can't interact with the patients at all for their clinical work. Noevertheless, the friend's wife (or wife's friend) is very excited to get A to the point where she's got the Russian skills to pass the entrance exams and get her into the school.
Today at work stands to be an interesting one, too. I've just been informed that the body-building factory has completed their 'suggestion' for the dump body for our vehicles, and will be going over shortly to review it. I would have gone over myself, but realized at the last minute that A has our rental car.
A humorous note from yesterday. Picking the kids up from their preschool, G's teacher made the comment (while going on about what a good kid he is) that he "listens well and understands directions well". She's particularly excited, given how well he listens (no trace of sarcasm that I could detect), to get him into the swimming pool...
So. Yesterday after work, A, И В, and I went to the ЖК (the office that deals with officially associating people with particular places) and filled out forms. The clerks briefly explained how a form was to be filled out, and wouldn't accept it back until every space had somethign written in it, then would go over it and cross out sections that were done incorrectly and hand it back to you with a fresh copy. Do it again. We were fortunate in only having done one particular section wrong (the third time it asks for passport information, it means the passport information of the new resident, not the existing one.. apparently) and in only having to go through the proces twice. Some poor guy next to us was on his third try when we arrived, and was angrily beginning his sixth when we left. They don't always cross out everything you did wrong; sometimes just the first incorrect thing they come to... So that ate up 45 minutes of our time, but we are now the possesors of (one each) a filled-out-and-stamped Form 1 and Form 9, which we can [theoretically] use this afternoon at the Immigration office to get yet another form which will be accompanied by the stamping of our Migration Cards with a registration valid for six months (longer than 180 days is possible, but they hinted that there is a charge for each additional day, so we'll just spend the time to re-register).
We did find out where the school is that A will be attending; not far off a Metro station in the northern part of the city -- though on the same line that we get on in the south. Semi-unfortunately, the schools have decided this year to stop offering courses in English, since the students who do not speak Russian really can't interact with the patients at all for their clinical work. Noevertheless, the friend's wife (or wife's friend) is very excited to get A to the point where she's got the Russian skills to pass the entrance exams and get her into the school.
Today at work stands to be an interesting one, too. I've just been informed that the body-building factory has completed their 'suggestion' for the dump body for our vehicles, and will be going over shortly to review it. I would have gone over myself, but realized at the last minute that A has our rental car.
Monday again
9/11 13:22, Pushkin time
So I've updated/back-dated the blog with the synopsis of the last week. One danger of the Inter Nets: when the real world intervenes -- even benevolently -- for very long, people start to wonder if you are still alive. Not to worry (unless you like to worry about this sort of thing), we're all fine and good. If I get hit by a bus, I'll be sure to post about it right away.
This morning, we took the kids to their preschool; Z was in fine form, and G as well -- both looking forward to the day. I warned them (though did they listen? not likely...) that they had better eat their lunches today, since we weren't taking them home right afterwards. We'll see how that stuck in a few hours.
Then, after, A and I got back together with И В to go register ourselves with the Russian immigration authorities. This time, having shown up at 6AM, И В got the first position on the wait list. So at just past ten, we marched into the pffice, sat down, and had a nice lady-bureaucrat explain to И В (I caught some of it) that the 'foreigners' whose registration time was now were actually only 'foreigners' from the other CIS countries. Actual 'ousider'-type foreigners had to come during a one-hour (no lengthy two-hour days for this office!) interval on either Tuesday or Thursday. And, oh by the way, we couldn't register ourselves anyway without being made official at the address where we're living. So over to the department that does that -- which is only open between 4 and 6PM on Mondays and Wednesdays. So, this afternoon we'll find out what we need to do to get that part done so we can take the result over to the other part and get that done. Over tea back at the office this morning, И told A, "this is why I don't have a phone line to my house yet". Paperwork...
I'll leave it to A to flesh out the story, but briefly this morning, И В (who studied there himself) has arranged for a friend of his wife's (or a wife of his friend's -- he's not very good at getting the order of words to correspond to the correct relationship in English; in Russian, it's inherent to the words 'friend' and 'wife') who works there to help A get into at least the Russian-language-classes sections of study over there as soon as possibe. We're also arranging for the English teacher who holds periodic classes at the office to act as A's translator/guide for the next couple of weeks; for today, she's on her own -- and not seeming all that troubled about it (!yay!).
So I've updated/back-dated the blog with the synopsis of the last week. One danger of the Inter Nets: when the real world intervenes -- even benevolently -- for very long, people start to wonder if you are still alive. Not to worry (unless you like to worry about this sort of thing), we're all fine and good. If I get hit by a bus, I'll be sure to post about it right away.
This morning, we took the kids to their preschool; Z was in fine form, and G as well -- both looking forward to the day. I warned them (though did they listen? not likely...) that they had better eat their lunches today, since we weren't taking them home right afterwards. We'll see how that stuck in a few hours.
Then, after, A and I got back together with И В to go register ourselves with the Russian immigration authorities. This time, having shown up at 6AM, И В got the first position on the wait list. So at just past ten, we marched into the pffice, sat down, and had a nice lady-bureaucrat explain to И В (I caught some of it) that the 'foreigners' whose registration time was now were actually only 'foreigners' from the other CIS countries. Actual 'ousider'-type foreigners had to come during a one-hour (no lengthy two-hour days for this office!) interval on either Tuesday or Thursday. And, oh by the way, we couldn't register ourselves anyway without being made official at the address where we're living. So over to the department that does that -- which is only open between 4 and 6PM on Mondays and Wednesdays. So, this afternoon we'll find out what we need to do to get that part done so we can take the result over to the other part and get that done. Over tea back at the office this morning, И told A, "this is why I don't have a phone line to my house yet". Paperwork...
I'll leave it to A to flesh out the story, but briefly this morning, И В (who studied there himself) has arranged for a friend of his wife's (or a wife of his friend's -- he's not very good at getting the order of words to correspond to the correct relationship in English; in Russian, it's inherent to the words 'friend' and 'wife') who works there to help A get into at least the Russian-language-classes sections of study over there as soon as possibe. We're also arranging for the English teacher who holds periodic classes at the office to act as A's translator/guide for the next couple of weeks; for today, she's on her own -- and not seeming all that troubled about it (!yay!).
сентября 08, 2006
And then...
9/8 21:41, Pushkin time
The kids are in bed after their nightly dose of Pink Panther (DVD box sets; hooray), and A is still relaxing in the bath, so I find myself once again with time to update. And so:
After getting the week’s worth of pay, I came back home to get A, Z, and G, to go see at least a bit of Petersburg. I figured the big Lenin statue and fountains near the Moskovskaya metro station and the Hermitage might be nice. So off we went. I could comment about parking here. Fairly frequently, one sees square blue signs with white “P”s on them. Unlike anywhere else I’ve ever been, these indicate not merely parking, but free, public parking (pay sites have an additional marking below showing coins). These are all over the place, and are far more common than the pay variety. As an example, at the victory monument in the roundabout where Moskovskoye and Kievskoye Shosse’s meet, there is a large hotel (I stayed there last time in Peter; the Pulkovskaya, you might recall). The hotel parking lot – where one would classically expect ‘we will tow your ass’ signs everywhere – is a completely free, generally not full, right-near-the-metro public spot. The first time I parked there, last week, I had a hard time suspending my utter disbelief, and found myself checking back to make sure the car was, in fact, not being unceremoniously removed. Now, after some explanations from the guys at work, I understand that there simply aren’t enough cars in Petersburg for it to be necessary to control access to parking. Traffic can be bad, but there’s always room to stash a car. Or twenty. Or so…
Anyway, the kids were impressed by the fountains, and noted how crowded the Metro was on the way into the city (this, when there was still room to walk around on the trains!). We got off at the Nevskiy stop – my having forgotten just exactly which station was the one I had used before – and took the walk up Nevskiy and off to the Winter Palace, then up to the park with the Peter the Great horseman statue. This park was equipped with the standard – as I’m coming to find in Russia – kids playground equipment area. Seeing the opportunity to take a breather, A and I told Z and G to go have fun while we sat on a bench and observed. Z went off to dig unobtrusively in the sand area, while A and I got to view, close-up, G’s first release into the wild. His first unfortunate victim was a pleasant Russian boy of maybe four years age who came up to him with a friendly greeting while he was climbing on a play structure. G’s response, in slightly elevated voice, was, “Hi, I’m G, and I’m going to climb on this cannon”. The poor Russian child, his respectful pleasantries met with incoherent (possibly aggressive?) babble, paled and quietly sidled off to find more normal companionship. –sigh- it will take time…
The ride back was on an actually crowded metro (people had to shuffle a bit to be able to pack on the additional fifteen who I truly believed at the beginning could not physically be made to fit into the car). The kids complained of sore feet – certainly not to be the first time, but Z was heartened by the thought that, by the time his cousins come out, he will be the tough one to their soft soles.
Wednesday. We made it up by 11, as I mentioned earlier. We decided that the kids deserved one more day of acclimating before they started preschool, so off we went to scope out the consumer scene. The night before, К had explained to us where the Petersburg Ikea store could be found (just about 1/4 of the way around the city, off the ring road). Since we hadn’t been out that way, and figured we might want furniture one of these days, off we went.
The ring road, which terminates on Moskovskoye Shosse a bit before the victory spire roundabout, is a delight. Traffic is (relatively) nonexistent, the behavior of the other vehicles is almost sane, and the entire length of it is elevated, affording a pretty cool view of the areas around which it passes. There’s even a nifty bridge over the Neva (construction completed sometime after the last Google Earth satellite pass, as far as I know). The store itself, while not as big as the ones in Moscow, is exactly what you would find in such a store in the US. Including, on the bottom level, a coffee shop/ hotdog stand. The kids were delighted. The entire site, on the Murmanskoye Shosse – a bit of an aside, ‘shosse’ means something like ‘highway’, and they are called by the names of the places to which they go; Moscovskoye to Moscow, Kievskoye to Kiev, and so forth; and in Moscow the other end of the road we drive up here is called the ‘Peterburgskoye Shosse’, of course – is signed as being the new home of a ‘Mega-Mall’. Presumably this will serve the Vsevolozhsk region (which is one of the places A and I have been considering for houses). To be completed this winter.
Wednesday after lunch we wandered by car around Pushkin, stopping of at the meat market there to pick up some dinner. The kids – G in particular – are tickled by the presumably feral cats that can be found all over the city. Much to the distress of A and myself. But he does understand, ‘don’t touch’.
Wednesday night, when G woke up at 1, I moved him to the air mattress with A and shared the spring one with Z. That worked to keep everyone on an even keel for the night, and we got up individually between 7 and 8AM.
On to Thursday. A and I dropped the kids off at about 8:45 at their preschool. The teachers for both seemed perfectly up to the task of handling kids who don’t respond verbally – they just treat them like any other normal kid, and let the responses come when they will. Z’s teacher I had already met, so while I was introducing myself to G’s teacher (Galina, though G insists she is ‘Paulina’), Z’s got herself introduced to A and Z and got him set up and going for the morning. A seemed more amused than distressed by the foreign-tongue assault, and regardless, it all came off without a hitch. We had fortunately been advised ahead of time that the kids both needed dance shoes and slippers. G fell in love with his slippers at first sight, and seemed, of the two, the less distressed by the whole affair. An additional need which was brought to our attention is for a swim suit, swim cap, and towel for the swimming time which happens on Tuesdays and Thursdays. All but the caps we already had.
While the kids were at school, A and I got picked up by И В – the guy who actually owns the apartment we’re in. He’s got barely any English, but he’s determined to use it to death (a man after my own technique…), so A was actually able to do a bit of on-her-own talking on the ride to the Immigration and Visa offices, where we were to get our registration taken care of. И В had shown up at the office at 10AM (right when it opened), and put our names on the waiting list – number thirty. At 10:45, when we arrived, the office had just called number three on the list. Office hours are from 10 till noon, three days a week (don’t you wish you had that job…). So, hell with it; И В said he’d go in at 7 on Monday morning and get us a spot in the first two or three, then we’d go and take care of it after ten on Monday. I told A, she and the kids [and I] are going to learn how to wait while we are here.
Thursday at 1 we picked the kids up. Both’s teachers reported that they got right down to socializing with the other kids. G’s was very concerned that he didn’t want to eat anything for lunch (the time change, we assume), and Z’s rattled off to me that he had eaten his soup great but didn’t finish his meat – then turned to him and said playfully (in Russian, of course), ‘there, now I’ve told your dad you didn’t finish your lunch’. I’m not sure why, but it still makes me snicker.
After a nap, we headed back into central Pushkin for one last preparatory mission (A drove, echoing my earlier thoughts that we aren’t going to be suitable for American roads if we spend too long driving here) to get the swim caps. We wandered all around the central commercial district, me stopping passers-by periodically to inquire about the location of a sporting goods shop. Apparently, I consistently misunderstood the directions that were being given to me several times over, and we never did find the shop on foot, and it was only after having given up, and started driving back home that A spotted the big «СПОРТ» sign on a window going past. A ninety-minute-long adventure, this was.
Thursday night, the kids made it to bed at 10 (a bit on the early side for kids here, but not particularly bizarre), slept through without incident, and we made out 7-to-8 wakeup on Friday.
Which brings up to today. Again dropping the kids off at school, A and I headed towards Petersburg to find the US Consulate and notify them of our presence here (a non-mandatory formality which nevertheless helps if an evacuation or next-of-kin notification is ever necessary). Just after we turned onto Kievskoye, my mobile rang; К had gone to check on G and Z when she dropped her daughter off, just as the preschool’s doctor was giving Z his morning once-over. And Z had spiked a fever shortly after arriving. So, we swung back around and picked up both Z and a note from the doctor listing off what drugs we needed to get for him (G was checked out right afterwards, to the report that he was not only normal temperature, but had snarfed down two pieces of bread-and-butter and three cups of tea already before getting down to building a wooden railway network with two other kids – no worries there). Z was active, but not terribly happy as we trekked to a pharmacist, gave her the note – not a prescription, mind, those are only necessary for narcotics – and bought what she wrapped together for us. Then back towards the city.
The US Consulate is on the south bank of the Neva, more or less centrally-located, east-to-west. This means that there is a traffic nightmare to be endured any time of day, but during the morning hours (of which 10-11AM is still one), the situation is particularly bad. A’s guidebook advised that the Consulate was open between 9 and 1 weekdays, so we figured we had the time to make it there and back by G’s 1PM end-of-lunch. As it turned out, with A navigating and I weaving and scooting, we didn’t make it to the Consulate until a hair after noon. Only to find that A’s book was misinformed, and that on Fridays, the hours are 2 to 5PM. Damn damn. And then we looked at our watches (!!). We jumped across to the north bank of the Neva and then down the waterfront road, which was surprisingly regular-moving. From there, onto the ring road at Murmanskoye (remember that one? We sure did..), around to Moskovskoye, down through Pushkin to the school; a trip that took us more than two hours getting in, we did in less than an hour via a less-direct route. As I said, the ring road is superb.
We picked G up, and had another brief meeting with the director, who wanted mainly to assure us that both boys were settling in excellently, and to find out if maybe G just wasn’t a lunch eater (he picked, but really didn’t eat today). He is, but the time change, you know… It’ll be better next week.
Then, back home, after nap, G played out in the playground at the apartment with the kids out there (did I mention, there are a lot of kids in these buildings?), Z to read, and A felt confident enough to go to the grocery store all by herself. I wish I had more on how that went, but you’d have to ask her…
And so, here we are going into the first weekend here together. The kids are good, A is good, and I am particularly content. Next week, we resolve the DSL issue, and get Andi’s occupation-for-the-time-being one the way to settled. ‘Night.
The kids are in bed after their nightly dose of Pink Panther (DVD box sets; hooray), and A is still relaxing in the bath, so I find myself once again with time to update. And so:
After getting the week’s worth of pay, I came back home to get A, Z, and G, to go see at least a bit of Petersburg. I figured the big Lenin statue and fountains near the Moskovskaya metro station and the Hermitage might be nice. So off we went. I could comment about parking here. Fairly frequently, one sees square blue signs with white “P”s on them. Unlike anywhere else I’ve ever been, these indicate not merely parking, but free, public parking (pay sites have an additional marking below showing coins). These are all over the place, and are far more common than the pay variety. As an example, at the victory monument in the roundabout where Moskovskoye and Kievskoye Shosse’s meet, there is a large hotel (I stayed there last time in Peter; the Pulkovskaya, you might recall). The hotel parking lot – where one would classically expect ‘we will tow your ass’ signs everywhere – is a completely free, generally not full, right-near-the-metro public spot. The first time I parked there, last week, I had a hard time suspending my utter disbelief, and found myself checking back to make sure the car was, in fact, not being unceremoniously removed. Now, after some explanations from the guys at work, I understand that there simply aren’t enough cars in Petersburg for it to be necessary to control access to parking. Traffic can be bad, but there’s always room to stash a car. Or twenty. Or so…
Anyway, the kids were impressed by the fountains, and noted how crowded the Metro was on the way into the city (this, when there was still room to walk around on the trains!). We got off at the Nevskiy stop – my having forgotten just exactly which station was the one I had used before – and took the walk up Nevskiy and off to the Winter Palace, then up to the park with the Peter the Great horseman statue. This park was equipped with the standard – as I’m coming to find in Russia – kids playground equipment area. Seeing the opportunity to take a breather, A and I told Z and G to go have fun while we sat on a bench and observed. Z went off to dig unobtrusively in the sand area, while A and I got to view, close-up, G’s first release into the wild. His first unfortunate victim was a pleasant Russian boy of maybe four years age who came up to him with a friendly greeting while he was climbing on a play structure. G’s response, in slightly elevated voice, was, “Hi, I’m G, and I’m going to climb on this cannon”. The poor Russian child, his respectful pleasantries met with incoherent (possibly aggressive?) babble, paled and quietly sidled off to find more normal companionship. –sigh- it will take time…
The ride back was on an actually crowded metro (people had to shuffle a bit to be able to pack on the additional fifteen who I truly believed at the beginning could not physically be made to fit into the car). The kids complained of sore feet – certainly not to be the first time, but Z was heartened by the thought that, by the time his cousins come out, he will be the tough one to their soft soles.
Wednesday. We made it up by 11, as I mentioned earlier. We decided that the kids deserved one more day of acclimating before they started preschool, so off we went to scope out the consumer scene. The night before, К had explained to us where the Petersburg Ikea store could be found (just about 1/4 of the way around the city, off the ring road). Since we hadn’t been out that way, and figured we might want furniture one of these days, off we went.
The ring road, which terminates on Moskovskoye Shosse a bit before the victory spire roundabout, is a delight. Traffic is (relatively) nonexistent, the behavior of the other vehicles is almost sane, and the entire length of it is elevated, affording a pretty cool view of the areas around which it passes. There’s even a nifty bridge over the Neva (construction completed sometime after the last Google Earth satellite pass, as far as I know). The store itself, while not as big as the ones in Moscow, is exactly what you would find in such a store in the US. Including, on the bottom level, a coffee shop/ hotdog stand. The kids were delighted. The entire site, on the Murmanskoye Shosse – a bit of an aside, ‘shosse’ means something like ‘highway’, and they are called by the names of the places to which they go; Moscovskoye to Moscow, Kievskoye to Kiev, and so forth; and in Moscow the other end of the road we drive up here is called the ‘Peterburgskoye Shosse’, of course – is signed as being the new home of a ‘Mega-Mall’. Presumably this will serve the Vsevolozhsk region (which is one of the places A and I have been considering for houses). To be completed this winter.
Wednesday after lunch we wandered by car around Pushkin, stopping of at the meat market there to pick up some dinner. The kids – G in particular – are tickled by the presumably feral cats that can be found all over the city. Much to the distress of A and myself. But he does understand, ‘don’t touch’.
Wednesday night, when G woke up at 1, I moved him to the air mattress with A and shared the spring one with Z. That worked to keep everyone on an even keel for the night, and we got up individually between 7 and 8AM.
On to Thursday. A and I dropped the kids off at about 8:45 at their preschool. The teachers for both seemed perfectly up to the task of handling kids who don’t respond verbally – they just treat them like any other normal kid, and let the responses come when they will. Z’s teacher I had already met, so while I was introducing myself to G’s teacher (Galina, though G insists she is ‘Paulina’), Z’s got herself introduced to A and Z and got him set up and going for the morning. A seemed more amused than distressed by the foreign-tongue assault, and regardless, it all came off without a hitch. We had fortunately been advised ahead of time that the kids both needed dance shoes and slippers. G fell in love with his slippers at first sight, and seemed, of the two, the less distressed by the whole affair. An additional need which was brought to our attention is for a swim suit, swim cap, and towel for the swimming time which happens on Tuesdays and Thursdays. All but the caps we already had.
While the kids were at school, A and I got picked up by И В – the guy who actually owns the apartment we’re in. He’s got barely any English, but he’s determined to use it to death (a man after my own technique…), so A was actually able to do a bit of on-her-own talking on the ride to the Immigration and Visa offices, where we were to get our registration taken care of. И В had shown up at the office at 10AM (right when it opened), and put our names on the waiting list – number thirty. At 10:45, when we arrived, the office had just called number three on the list. Office hours are from 10 till noon, three days a week (don’t you wish you had that job…). So, hell with it; И В said he’d go in at 7 on Monday morning and get us a spot in the first two or three, then we’d go and take care of it after ten on Monday. I told A, she and the kids [and I] are going to learn how to wait while we are here.
Thursday at 1 we picked the kids up. Both’s teachers reported that they got right down to socializing with the other kids. G’s was very concerned that he didn’t want to eat anything for lunch (the time change, we assume), and Z’s rattled off to me that he had eaten his soup great but didn’t finish his meat – then turned to him and said playfully (in Russian, of course), ‘there, now I’ve told your dad you didn’t finish your lunch’. I’m not sure why, but it still makes me snicker.
After a nap, we headed back into central Pushkin for one last preparatory mission (A drove, echoing my earlier thoughts that we aren’t going to be suitable for American roads if we spend too long driving here) to get the swim caps. We wandered all around the central commercial district, me stopping passers-by periodically to inquire about the location of a sporting goods shop. Apparently, I consistently misunderstood the directions that were being given to me several times over, and we never did find the shop on foot, and it was only after having given up, and started driving back home that A spotted the big «СПОРТ» sign on a window going past. A ninety-minute-long adventure, this was.
Thursday night, the kids made it to bed at 10 (a bit on the early side for kids here, but not particularly bizarre), slept through without incident, and we made out 7-to-8 wakeup on Friday.
Which brings up to today. Again dropping the kids off at school, A and I headed towards Petersburg to find the US Consulate and notify them of our presence here (a non-mandatory formality which nevertheless helps if an evacuation or next-of-kin notification is ever necessary). Just after we turned onto Kievskoye, my mobile rang; К had gone to check on G and Z when she dropped her daughter off, just as the preschool’s doctor was giving Z his morning once-over. And Z had spiked a fever shortly after arriving. So, we swung back around and picked up both Z and a note from the doctor listing off what drugs we needed to get for him (G was checked out right afterwards, to the report that he was not only normal temperature, but had snarfed down two pieces of bread-and-butter and three cups of tea already before getting down to building a wooden railway network with two other kids – no worries there). Z was active, but not terribly happy as we trekked to a pharmacist, gave her the note – not a prescription, mind, those are only necessary for narcotics – and bought what she wrapped together for us. Then back towards the city.
The US Consulate is on the south bank of the Neva, more or less centrally-located, east-to-west. This means that there is a traffic nightmare to be endured any time of day, but during the morning hours (of which 10-11AM is still one), the situation is particularly bad. A’s guidebook advised that the Consulate was open between 9 and 1 weekdays, so we figured we had the time to make it there and back by G’s 1PM end-of-lunch. As it turned out, with A navigating and I weaving and scooting, we didn’t make it to the Consulate until a hair after noon. Only to find that A’s book was misinformed, and that on Fridays, the hours are 2 to 5PM. Damn damn. And then we looked at our watches (!!). We jumped across to the north bank of the Neva and then down the waterfront road, which was surprisingly regular-moving. From there, onto the ring road at Murmanskoye (remember that one? We sure did..), around to Moskovskoye, down through Pushkin to the school; a trip that took us more than two hours getting in, we did in less than an hour via a less-direct route. As I said, the ring road is superb.
We picked G up, and had another brief meeting with the director, who wanted mainly to assure us that both boys were settling in excellently, and to find out if maybe G just wasn’t a lunch eater (he picked, but really didn’t eat today). He is, but the time change, you know… It’ll be better next week.
Then, back home, after nap, G played out in the playground at the apartment with the kids out there (did I mention, there are a lot of kids in these buildings?), Z to read, and A felt confident enough to go to the grocery store all by herself. I wish I had more on how that went, but you’d have to ask her…
And so, here we are going into the first weekend here together. The kids are good, A is good, and I am particularly content. Next week, we resolve the DSL issue, and get Andi’s occupation-for-the-time-being one the way to settled. ‘Night.
Back!
9/8 20:02, Pushkin time
Wow, was I away from the keyboard for a long time. No apologies, though, the family takes precedence, and this is the first time we’ve been inclined to separate into ‘self’ time since Warsaw. Let me recap.
Warsaw. When we last left, there was serious question about when A, Z, and G were going to arrive and whether they would make the flight out on Monday or have to spend the night (without accommodations) at the Warsaw airport and get the next day’s plane. Also, as my tickets were frequent flier, I was unsettled by the prospect that they would be unalterable without significant penalty. The drama reached the first of its peaks at the departure gate (number 12) for the Petersburg flight – where I had been asked to wait until the boarding of the flight, and could then notify the gate checker-in-ers that I would be taking the next day’s plane. 20 minutes before the start of boarding, the gate guy (and by this time, most of the relevant airport staff were well-versed in my troubles) has a muffled conversation over walkie-talkie (in Polish, but the similarity to Russian is enough that I was able to pick out the words ‘airplane’ and ‘late’..) and announces over the intercom that the flight to Petesburg is going to be late and that “more information will be available at 11:15”. Jumping for joy, I dashed to the arrival area to meet A and the kids as they stepped off the buses into the airport. As it happened, though the plane to Petersburg left two hours late, their stuff from Chicago didn’t get loaded, and A got her introduction to Russia from a brusque customs agent explaining (once. in Russian) how to fill out a customs form to register the missing baggage for pickup when it arrived. I am so glad I was there to help; it was tough even understanding what the agent had said. Nonetheless, we made it out, found our driver, and got home before too late.
That night, the kids slept until maybe midnight, then woke A up and all had a small meal, before going back to sleep. We woke up at 1:30 in the afternoon. To the great amusement of И and everyone at the office when I went in to get my pay.
That evening we ate at И’s place. Z and G played great with his kids, A got to socialize (such as was possible) with К – who speaks just barely more English than A does Russian – and И, and we got to have a relaxing lean-back, ‘so this is where we are now’ time. A, И, and I were out talking houses until just after 11, when К came to point out the time and mention that the kids just might need to get up at a reasonable hour. Oops. The missing baggage having been delivered, we headed back home.
That night, G woke up again and I drowsed up enough to find he and A organizing the luggage contents. The time change, you know. We made it up in better time, at 11:00.
Earlier that day we went into the city via car and then Metro. But time has run out for this catch-up installment. More later.
Wow, was I away from the keyboard for a long time. No apologies, though, the family takes precedence, and this is the first time we’ve been inclined to separate into ‘self’ time since Warsaw. Let me recap.
Warsaw. When we last left, there was serious question about when A, Z, and G were going to arrive and whether they would make the flight out on Monday or have to spend the night (without accommodations) at the Warsaw airport and get the next day’s plane. Also, as my tickets were frequent flier, I was unsettled by the prospect that they would be unalterable without significant penalty. The drama reached the first of its peaks at the departure gate (number 12) for the Petersburg flight – where I had been asked to wait until the boarding of the flight, and could then notify the gate checker-in-ers that I would be taking the next day’s plane. 20 minutes before the start of boarding, the gate guy (and by this time, most of the relevant airport staff were well-versed in my troubles) has a muffled conversation over walkie-talkie (in Polish, but the similarity to Russian is enough that I was able to pick out the words ‘airplane’ and ‘late’..) and announces over the intercom that the flight to Petesburg is going to be late and that “more information will be available at 11:15”. Jumping for joy, I dashed to the arrival area to meet A and the kids as they stepped off the buses into the airport. As it happened, though the plane to Petersburg left two hours late, their stuff from Chicago didn’t get loaded, and A got her introduction to Russia from a brusque customs agent explaining (once. in Russian) how to fill out a customs form to register the missing baggage for pickup when it arrived. I am so glad I was there to help; it was tough even understanding what the agent had said. Nonetheless, we made it out, found our driver, and got home before too late.
That night, the kids slept until maybe midnight, then woke A up and all had a small meal, before going back to sleep. We woke up at 1:30 in the afternoon. To the great amusement of И and everyone at the office when I went in to get my pay.
That evening we ate at И’s place. Z and G played great with his kids, A got to socialize (such as was possible) with К – who speaks just barely more English than A does Russian – and И, and we got to have a relaxing lean-back, ‘so this is where we are now’ time. A, И, and I were out talking houses until just after 11, when К came to point out the time and mention that the kids just might need to get up at a reasonable hour. Oops. The missing baggage having been delivered, we headed back home.
That night, G woke up again and I drowsed up enough to find he and A organizing the luggage contents. The time change, you know. We made it up in better time, at 11:00.
Earlier that day we went into the city via car and then Metro. But time has run out for this catch-up installment. More later.
сентября 03, 2006
Shitshitshit
9/4 08:15, Warsaw time
So I check in this morning to figure out when to wait for A and the kids to walk off the plane, only to find out that their flight left Chicago more than two hours late. And their total originally-scheduled layover time in Warsaw? 1 hour, 50 minutes...
So. As things stand at this instant, they are scheduled to arrive at 11:09AM, and the flight to Saint-Petersburg (for which all four of us are checked in, by the way...) scheduled to leave at 10:50AM. I can tell that I'm not going berserk, because I am not hearing the sound of shouted obscenities coming out of my mouth. But it feels like a close, close thing. I suppose, worst-case, we end up missing this flight, getting pushed back to the next one (tomorrow), and spending a night together in this glorious airport -- I expect we'd spring for the room in that case. Oh what a pain-in-the-ass beginning for them. At this point, my best-case scenario has me talking the gate agent into delaying the flight to Petersburg (or the flight itself being delayed for some reason would be nice. Just a half hour is all we'd need...) and them dashing over to meet the plane just before it flies off.
Ohhh... my head hurts..
So I check in this morning to figure out when to wait for A and the kids to walk off the plane, only to find out that their flight left Chicago more than two hours late. And their total originally-scheduled layover time in Warsaw? 1 hour, 50 minutes...
So. As things stand at this instant, they are scheduled to arrive at 11:09AM, and the flight to Saint-Petersburg (for which all four of us are checked in, by the way...) scheduled to leave at 10:50AM. I can tell that I'm not going berserk, because I am not hearing the sound of shouted obscenities coming out of my mouth. But it feels like a close, close thing. I suppose, worst-case, we end up missing this flight, getting pushed back to the next one (tomorrow), and spending a night together in this glorious airport -- I expect we'd spring for the room in that case. Oh what a pain-in-the-ass beginning for them. At this point, my best-case scenario has me talking the gate agent into delaying the flight to Petersburg (or the flight itself being delayed for some reason would be nice. Just a half hour is all we'd need...) and them dashing over to meet the plane just before it flies off.
Ohhh... my head hurts..
overnight
9/4 04:21, Warsaw time
‘Good’ morning.
I managed to squeeze out maybe four hours worth of sleep since my polite eviction from the lounge at 10PM. The Warsaw airport has a transit hotel, but I figured, ‘why pay the ninety bucks when I should be able to find a perfectly adequate place to sleep in some cranny somewhere?’ I suppose I was correct to think that, as I do not actually seek death’s release sitting here now a mere half hour or so before the lounge opens back up. Over the [maybe] 150-yard length of the airport, the most likely candidate for a sleeping nook seemed to be the chapel. Indeed, I managed several five-minute bursts of sleep on the floor in a corner there before I gave it up. It appears that even at midnight in the middle of an otherwise seemingly empty airport, there is still a regular stream of Poles feeling the need to pray. It’s not that they disturbed me being there, but the latch on the door is really loud and kept waking me up on both their entry and departure.
So, I gave up my first refuge for a convex-shaped couch at a closed coffee shop. The cleaning crew did briefly disturb my slumber at one point, but on the whole I was left alone and even – dare I say? – not horribly uncomfortable. Sadly, that was not to last. At this airport, there are several flights leaving at 5AM, so at half past three, the airport started filling up. I poked around for another quiet space (even briefly considering the empty ‘mothers-with-infants’ room), but gave that up too, and instead blew 9 zlotys (I can’t make the proper character. The ‘l’ should have a diagonal bar through it; a Polish letter that sounds like ‘oo’) (oh yeah, that’s about 3 bucks) on some bacon and fried potato slabs to get me through until the lounge opens and I can dine to my heart’s content – or until my gullet’s tolerance – on juice and crackers.
I noticed yesterday that the outlets here, while compatible with the ones in Russia, are different. Both rely on plugs with two round pins of maybe 3/16” diameter, spaced maybe an inch apart. But while the Russia outlets end there, the Polish ones also have what I can only assume to be a ground pin of about the same size that actually goes into the plug. At the same time, I have seen that Russian house outlets (as opposed to hotel ones, which must be designed to accommodate ignorant foreigners) have a sort of safety covers over/inside the actual pin holes. The plug must be – so far as I have been able to make work – pushed hard and wiggled at the same time to get the covers out of the way and a connection made. The little details.
‘Good’ morning.
I managed to squeeze out maybe four hours worth of sleep since my polite eviction from the lounge at 10PM. The Warsaw airport has a transit hotel, but I figured, ‘why pay the ninety bucks when I should be able to find a perfectly adequate place to sleep in some cranny somewhere?’ I suppose I was correct to think that, as I do not actually seek death’s release sitting here now a mere half hour or so before the lounge opens back up. Over the [maybe] 150-yard length of the airport, the most likely candidate for a sleeping nook seemed to be the chapel. Indeed, I managed several five-minute bursts of sleep on the floor in a corner there before I gave it up. It appears that even at midnight in the middle of an otherwise seemingly empty airport, there is still a regular stream of Poles feeling the need to pray. It’s not that they disturbed me being there, but the latch on the door is really loud and kept waking me up on both their entry and departure.
So, I gave up my first refuge for a convex-shaped couch at a closed coffee shop. The cleaning crew did briefly disturb my slumber at one point, but on the whole I was left alone and even – dare I say? – not horribly uncomfortable. Sadly, that was not to last. At this airport, there are several flights leaving at 5AM, so at half past three, the airport started filling up. I poked around for another quiet space (even briefly considering the empty ‘mothers-with-infants’ room), but gave that up too, and instead blew 9 zlotys (I can’t make the proper character. The ‘l’ should have a diagonal bar through it; a Polish letter that sounds like ‘oo’) (oh yeah, that’s about 3 bucks) on some bacon and fried potato slabs to get me through until the lounge opens and I can dine to my heart’s content – or until my gullet’s tolerance – on juice and crackers.
I noticed yesterday that the outlets here, while compatible with the ones in Russia, are different. Both rely on plugs with two round pins of maybe 3/16” diameter, spaced maybe an inch apart. But while the Russia outlets end there, the Polish ones also have what I can only assume to be a ground pin of about the same size that actually goes into the plug. At the same time, I have seen that Russian house outlets (as opposed to hotel ones, which must be designed to accommodate ignorant foreigners) have a sort of safety covers over/inside the actual pin holes. The plug must be – so far as I have been able to make work – pushed hard and wiggled at the same time to get the covers out of the way and a connection made. The little details.
Abusing My Lounge Priveleges
9/3 18:28, Warsaw time
So.. only fifteen or so hours to go.
Bored.
Bored.
Bored.
(But the anticipation is keeping me from sleeping so far...)
A left a Skype message to tell me that she and the kids got on an earlier flight to Chicago. I hope they're not terribly disappointed to learn that the LOT check-in desk doesn't open until relatively shortly before the flight leaves. I suppose they'll at least have time to peruse the dinosaur skeleton and to get a good spot in the line. Suck-o. I hope the flight to Warsaw is at least bearable.
More thinking about what's to come in the next week. A permitting, I'd like for us to split the time seeing what's in Pushkin and what's in Petersburg, and what's outside both (which I don't really know myself). She's already asked where the fabric store is (there are several). Maybe we'll even make it out to a region of smoldering peat. Wouldn't that be cool.
I do know that, as requested, the DVD player on loan from И has been hooked up to the television (also on loan from И) and I am chomping at the bit to kick back with my wife and kids and watch some Pink Panther in the comfort of our homeless-no-longer status. My brief flirtation with pessimism seems to have ended (or at least gone temporarily dormant) and I once again look forward to these next months with undiluted excitement. This was the right move to make.
So.. only fifteen or so hours to go.
Bored.
Bored.
Bored.
(But the anticipation is keeping me from sleeping so far...)
A left a Skype message to tell me that she and the kids got on an earlier flight to Chicago. I hope they're not terribly disappointed to learn that the LOT check-in desk doesn't open until relatively shortly before the flight leaves. I suppose they'll at least have time to peruse the dinosaur skeleton and to get a good spot in the line. Suck-o. I hope the flight to Warsaw is at least bearable.
More thinking about what's to come in the next week. A permitting, I'd like for us to split the time seeing what's in Pushkin and what's in Petersburg, and what's outside both (which I don't really know myself). She's already asked where the fabric store is (there are several). Maybe we'll even make it out to a region of smoldering peat. Wouldn't that be cool.
I do know that, as requested, the DVD player on loan from И has been hooked up to the television (also on loan from И) and I am chomping at the bit to kick back with my wife and kids and watch some Pink Panther in the comfort of our homeless-no-longer status. My brief flirtation with pessimism seems to have ended (or at least gone temporarily dormant) and I once again look forward to these next months with undiluted excitement. This was the right move to make.
Сразу обратно
9/3 11:01, Pushkin time
Only minutes remain until my departure. The floors are swept, the sheets are washed and hung to dry – by the way, my observation in the hotels pretty much everywhere outside the North America seems to correspond to the situation outside hotels; they don’t seem to use fitted sheets, and sleep in direct contact with a non-fitted sheet covering their mattress on the bottom and a slip-covered quilt/blanket on top. A sheet set (any set; I looked a long time) comes with only the one sheet, a quilt cover, and one or two pillow cases. Yet another small detail. I’m committed now, so I really hope the sheets are dry by tomorrow evening…
I’ve got to finish getting dressed and whatnot, and I’m expecting И’s call pretty soon now. I’ll be bringing the laptop with me to Warsaw and am sure to have something to gripe about during the many, many hours I’ll be sitting around there.
Only minutes remain until my departure. The floors are swept, the sheets are washed and hung to dry – by the way, my observation in the hotels pretty much everywhere outside the North America seems to correspond to the situation outside hotels; they don’t seem to use fitted sheets, and sleep in direct contact with a non-fitted sheet covering their mattress on the bottom and a slip-covered quilt/blanket on top. A sheet set (any set; I looked a long time) comes with only the one sheet, a quilt cover, and one or two pillow cases. Yet another small detail. I’m committed now, so I really hope the sheets are dry by tomorrow evening…
I’ve got to finish getting dressed and whatnot, and I’m expecting И’s call pretty soon now. I’ll be bringing the laptop with me to Warsaw and am sure to have something to gripe about during the many, many hours I’ll be sitting around there.
сентября 02, 2006
Waiting Is
9/3 00:00, Pushkin time
Late tonight.
This last day in Pushkin without my family came off ok. I picked up a few cooking-and-eating things, along with breakfast and lunch fixings for when everyone arrives, and an air mattress for Z and G (though now that I’ve inflated and tested it, they may end up getting the spring mattress bed…) to use until our stuff arrives. Talking to them a few minutes ago, they are finished packing their bags and stuff up and are waiting for their ride to the hotel from which they will head to the airport early, early tomorrow morning. The inactive waiting part is the worst – I know from experience. A’s family is all proud of her, but most of them don’t seem to be very good as expressing it; rather, since she’s never been in a different state from most of them for her entire life thus far, they are focusing these last few hours on the distance and absence. I’m fortunate in that way (I guess), since I’ve left home several times already, and this last one is really more a matter of quantitative than qualitative increase. Not that my mom, dad, and siblings don’t miss me, I presume, but with practice it’s become easier to do. And on my side of the family, there are plenty of kids and grandkids to spare. That probably help, too.
Anyway, I got the washing machine working. Out on the town today, I visited an appliance store and hung around the washing machines looking lost until a girl asked if she could help me. I replied, “what do these buttons mean?” and steered the answer into an explanation of how to operate the brand of machine in the apartment. So some of my clothes at least are clean now and drying out.
Interesting aside, I commented to И on how difficult it must be to dry clothes in the wintertime; he answered that they dry out really fast outside when it’s cold out. Thinking he was making a joke about ice being ‘dry’, I mentioned that they wouldn’t be so dry when you put them back on. Eventually we worked our way to the explanation: at temperatures colder than -5C (or so), the air is so dry that it sucks the moisture out of the clothes before it even has a chance to freeze, and anything up off the ground that freezes ends up sublimating off in a matter of a few more minutes. As I said, we’ll have to see how that works this winter.
So.
Tomorrow at 11:30, И is picking me up to go to the airport. I fly out at 1PM, land in Warsaw at 1PM, and then have almost a full day to wait for A and the kids. They say that there’s not much worth seeing in Warsaw if you: don’t speak the language; don’t know anything about it going in; have no car from the airport; and aren’t looking to spend much money. So I’ll be sleeping in the business class lounge(s). Maybe there will be Access there, but I’m far from counting on it. In 40 or so hours we’ll all be settling into our new home. This is going to be a good thing.
Late tonight.
This last day in Pushkin without my family came off ok. I picked up a few cooking-and-eating things, along with breakfast and lunch fixings for when everyone arrives, and an air mattress for Z and G (though now that I’ve inflated and tested it, they may end up getting the spring mattress bed…) to use until our stuff arrives. Talking to them a few minutes ago, they are finished packing their bags and stuff up and are waiting for their ride to the hotel from which they will head to the airport early, early tomorrow morning. The inactive waiting part is the worst – I know from experience. A’s family is all proud of her, but most of them don’t seem to be very good as expressing it; rather, since she’s never been in a different state from most of them for her entire life thus far, they are focusing these last few hours on the distance and absence. I’m fortunate in that way (I guess), since I’ve left home several times already, and this last one is really more a matter of quantitative than qualitative increase. Not that my mom, dad, and siblings don’t miss me, I presume, but with practice it’s become easier to do. And on my side of the family, there are plenty of kids and grandkids to spare. That probably help, too.
Anyway, I got the washing machine working. Out on the town today, I visited an appliance store and hung around the washing machines looking lost until a girl asked if she could help me. I replied, “what do these buttons mean?” and steered the answer into an explanation of how to operate the brand of machine in the apartment. So some of my clothes at least are clean now and drying out.
Interesting aside, I commented to И on how difficult it must be to dry clothes in the wintertime; he answered that they dry out really fast outside when it’s cold out. Thinking he was making a joke about ice being ‘dry’, I mentioned that they wouldn’t be so dry when you put them back on. Eventually we worked our way to the explanation: at temperatures colder than -5C (or so), the air is so dry that it sucks the moisture out of the clothes before it even has a chance to freeze, and anything up off the ground that freezes ends up sublimating off in a matter of a few more minutes. As I said, we’ll have to see how that works this winter.
So.
Tomorrow at 11:30, И is picking me up to go to the airport. I fly out at 1PM, land in Warsaw at 1PM, and then have almost a full day to wait for A and the kids. They say that there’s not much worth seeing in Warsaw if you: don’t speak the language; don’t know anything about it going in; have no car from the airport; and aren’t looking to spend much money. So I’ll be sleeping in the business class lounge(s). Maybe there will be Access there, but I’m far from counting on it. In 40 or so hours we’ll all be settling into our new home. This is going to be a good thing.
сентября 01, 2006
9/1 20:40, Pushkin time
The work-week now wrapped up, I have only to wait a short couple of days before I can see my family again. I may have mentioned before (and??) that this time away fells much different from my normal time away. I am sure that A, Z, and G will like living here, but I find myself still having a ‘homeless’ feeling while they are away. My hope is to fill the time tomorrow with shopping for the last few things they need upon arrival (and Z has asked for popsicles if I can find them) and to not even notice the time passing until I fly out. I grow more and more confident that Warsaw – the airport at least, as I’m really not planning to explore the town – is going to be a unique kind of hell. But the pay-off is well worth it.
So, what of the first week at work? It went fairly fine. Another guy and I have been tasked with developing a training department (training is what pays my highest commission by percentage, but probably not so by absolute dollarage (rubleage?)). It looks like I’ll be doing a fair bit of that over the next several months – which will be very nice for money. I’ve also settled in well enough to start remembering names; I’m sure to be not far from remembering phone extensions, and then I’m set! Of Course, I have all next week off to work with A on setting herself up, during which time I fully expect to forget at least 50% of my progress so far… But it will be a happy forgetfulness.
Not sure if I mentioned it before, but there was an interesting piece of information (now obsolete, but still..) from a couple of days ago. Every morning, I noticed after a couple of days, I woke up to the smell of wood smoke outside. By the time I got to work, it was gone, but the next morning, there it was again. Finally, I asked И about it. Here it goes:
All around the Saint-Petersburg area are peat bogs, in many cases several meters deep. As the summer progresses, they dry out and settle enough to be comfortably walkable. Every summer people are warned, and every summer several ignore the warnings and have picnics (complete with campfire) in the peat bog areas. The peat begins to burn, but, too wet to actually flame, it smolders. The smolder works its way down under the surface a meter or two, then spreads sideways. By the end of the summer, inevitably, several dozen hectares – at least – are smoldering at that depth. It becomes quite dangerous to walk in the hot peat areas, since it does have soft places, and to sink into the smoldering peat would very quickly bake a person (like a luau pig, I suppose) or a leg at least. Anyway, the smoke from the smoldering escapes; during the days there is enough wind off the bay to dissipate it, but at night the winds cease, and the smoke settles; hence the smell in the morning. Sometimes enough is on fire that the morning smoke lasts until the first snow, but we’ve had a couple days of rain and wet and the smell seems to be gone (though the wind might just be more consistent).
So there you have it. It’s no Rotarua, but I’ve succeeded once more in finding a local smell that’s ‘mysteriously’ left out of travel brochures…
Hmm. This evening I figured on doing laundry. But I am stymied by a machine that is all symbols, no directions. It has locked most (thankfully, not all) of my clothes inside; lamps are lit and it hums, but nothing else seems to be happening. My hope is that I accidentally tripped a timer of some sort, and that it will start up and run sometime tonight. The lock part is perhaps the most distressing to me. The machine has a drawer with three dispenser slots in it (labeled “1”, “2”, and with a flower-looking symbol); five buttons, one of which is clearly ‘power’, and the others of which are total mysteries; and three dials, one of which appears to be ‘spin speed’(?), the other some sort of temperature control (about the only thing other than ‘power’ of which I am certain), and the last one maybe timer, maybe start, maybe cycle – it seems o be the most critical part, but has no decipherable markings (though plenty of the other kind, of course…). If I wake up in the morning and nothing has happened I will be both terribly distressed and will likely give up and call К to plead for help. I really do need those clothes, and I can’t even figure out how to unlock the damn thing.
The work-week now wrapped up, I have only to wait a short couple of days before I can see my family again. I may have mentioned before (and??) that this time away fells much different from my normal time away. I am sure that A, Z, and G will like living here, but I find myself still having a ‘homeless’ feeling while they are away. My hope is to fill the time tomorrow with shopping for the last few things they need upon arrival (and Z has asked for popsicles if I can find them) and to not even notice the time passing until I fly out. I grow more and more confident that Warsaw – the airport at least, as I’m really not planning to explore the town – is going to be a unique kind of hell. But the pay-off is well worth it.
So, what of the first week at work? It went fairly fine. Another guy and I have been tasked with developing a training department (training is what pays my highest commission by percentage, but probably not so by absolute dollarage (rubleage?)). It looks like I’ll be doing a fair bit of that over the next several months – which will be very nice for money. I’ve also settled in well enough to start remembering names; I’m sure to be not far from remembering phone extensions, and then I’m set! Of Course, I have all next week off to work with A on setting herself up, during which time I fully expect to forget at least 50% of my progress so far… But it will be a happy forgetfulness.
Not sure if I mentioned it before, but there was an interesting piece of information (now obsolete, but still..) from a couple of days ago. Every morning, I noticed after a couple of days, I woke up to the smell of wood smoke outside. By the time I got to work, it was gone, but the next morning, there it was again. Finally, I asked И about it. Here it goes:
All around the Saint-Petersburg area are peat bogs, in many cases several meters deep. As the summer progresses, they dry out and settle enough to be comfortably walkable. Every summer people are warned, and every summer several ignore the warnings and have picnics (complete with campfire) in the peat bog areas. The peat begins to burn, but, too wet to actually flame, it smolders. The smolder works its way down under the surface a meter or two, then spreads sideways. By the end of the summer, inevitably, several dozen hectares – at least – are smoldering at that depth. It becomes quite dangerous to walk in the hot peat areas, since it does have soft places, and to sink into the smoldering peat would very quickly bake a person (like a luau pig, I suppose) or a leg at least. Anyway, the smoke from the smoldering escapes; during the days there is enough wind off the bay to dissipate it, but at night the winds cease, and the smoke settles; hence the smell in the morning. Sometimes enough is on fire that the morning smoke lasts until the first snow, but we’ve had a couple days of rain and wet and the smell seems to be gone (though the wind might just be more consistent).
So there you have it. It’s no Rotarua, but I’ve succeeded once more in finding a local smell that’s ‘mysteriously’ left out of travel brochures…
Hmm. This evening I figured on doing laundry. But I am stymied by a machine that is all symbols, no directions. It has locked most (thankfully, not all) of my clothes inside; lamps are lit and it hums, but nothing else seems to be happening. My hope is that I accidentally tripped a timer of some sort, and that it will start up and run sometime tonight. The lock part is perhaps the most distressing to me. The machine has a drawer with three dispenser slots in it (labeled “1”, “2”, and with a flower-looking symbol); five buttons, one of which is clearly ‘power’, and the others of which are total mysteries; and three dials, one of which appears to be ‘spin speed’(?), the other some sort of temperature control (about the only thing other than ‘power’ of which I am certain), and the last one maybe timer, maybe start, maybe cycle – it seems o be the most critical part, but has no decipherable markings (though plenty of the other kind, of course…). If I wake up in the morning and nothing has happened I will be both terribly distressed and will likely give up and call К to plead for help. I really do need those clothes, and I can’t even figure out how to unlock the damn thing.
