Friday, December 6, 2013

Sochi Expat Thanksgiving 2013...Oh Russia! TGIF!

Holidays are always a hard time of year when you live abroad, away from your family (friends at home fall in to the family category in our book). But we are going to make the most of our holiday season and do as much as possible to enjoy the winter in Sochi. There is still a lot to explore around here so we better get on it! As of today, it is 62 days until Opening Ceremonies. It's getting SO close!

We celebrated our 2nd Thanksgiving in Sochi this year. There are a lot more expats in Sochi now that we are so close to the Games. This year, we were invited to an Expat Thanksgiving with some of our new American friends. There weren't just Americans in attendance; there were also friends from Canada, Germany, Vietnam, Italy (well, she was there in spirit), Russia and Australia. They had even downloaded the Thanksgiving football game to watch while we ate our turkey. Along with two turkeys, we also had all of the fixins - mashed potatoes and gravy, veggies, stuffing, pasta (an Italian contribution), green bean casserole (I found a fantastic gluten free, homemade recipe here), and tons of desserts. It was so great to spend time with a bunch of expats. Some are already great friends and some are new, soon-to-be good friends. With the company, football game, and turkey it was hard to remember that we are in Russia. 

The gang.

The spread.

Harb.

Mark, Jerry, Mike.

Let the holiday season begin!!



Friday, November 1, 2013

Unity Day...Oh Russia! TGIF!

November 4th is always a special day in our family. Hint: It's my birzsday! In Russia, November 4th is a national holiday. Shouldn't everyone get a national holiday on their birthday? The holiday is called Unity Day. According to some quick research I did, Unity Day is a day that calls for tolerance between all ethnic and religious groups that reside in the Russian Federation. This day also celebrates the liberation of Russia from Polish-Lithuanian invaders and national heroes, such as Kuzma Minin and Dmitry Pozharsky. Their monument is the statue in front of St. Basil's Cathedral. This holiday has changed a few times throughout history and was finally dubbed Unity Day in 2005. Read more about the holiday here

National heroes Kuzma Minin and Dmitry Pozharsky

The Golden Temple, a Buddhist temple in Elista, Kalmykia, Russia.
We visited this temple on our road trip this summer. 

Selfishly, I am excited about this holiday because it means Mark gets a three-day weekend...on my birthday! :) But seriously, I do believe that this is a great holiday to celebrate in Russia. Although it is a younger holiday, I hope it continues to remind people to come together and accept one another no matter their ethnicity, religion, sexual preference, or background year after year. We hope all of our Russian friends have a great Unity Day. Cheers to unity!

Sunday, October 20, 2013

Finding Roket (Part 2)

He will live! After what I had just experienced, these words warmed my heart. It helped make the past couple of hours all worth it. I paid the money due to the vet for the treatment and boarding. I said good bye to the little guy for the night. Finally, I thanked everyone at the clinic for their help. Before I left, I agreed I would return at 09:00 the next morning to speak with the doctor and to find out exactly how bad the puppy’s injuries were.

On my way home, I called Danielle to provide her the update on the puppy’s condition. I also told her I was due back at the vet the next morning. We talked for a bit and I told her I would really like her to go back to the clinic with me. I wasn’t sure I could do that all again on my own. I knew the little guy would live, but I still had no idea how bad his injuries were. Danielle agreed to go with me and we talked a bit about the whole experience. Danielle told me Suay  -knew- something was wrong. Suay is quite in-tune to others’ feelings and emotions and, whether it was the way Danielle reacted to my initial phone call or perhaps she just felt something was wrong, this night she was especially concerned. Apparently, she spent the entire evening waiting at the door for me to come home. She was melancholy and not herself, as she sat at waited.

I finished talking with Danielle so I could concentrate on driving home in an environment that requires every bit of attention from the driver, and sometimes, even the passenger. I sat in silence as I drove. I thought back to when I first saw the little guy. I thought back to the look on his face when I approached him as he lay in the bushes. I thought back to him refusing to give up while laying in the back of the truck. I replayed the whole experience back in my head, over and over again. It was all so surreal. Each time, I came back to those three words. He will live!!! He will live??? He will live?!?! What have I done?

Until now, I never thought about what this would mean. We live in a small studio apartment, not even 40 square meters…approximately 400 square feet. We live on the tenth floor of a 19 story building. It’s Danielle, Suay, Crash and me. Our flat is already bursting at the seams as it is. Adding another medium to large sized dog to the mix is certainly not ideal. Additionally, our landlords are OK with Suay and Crash. However, a third dog in their small flat, a puppy no less, may not be acceptable to them. The last thing we want to have happen is be evicted for violating the terms of our lease. They were quite forgiving about Oly when we had him. However, he was a very small kitten and we only had him for three days. A large puppy is an entirely different set of circumstances. Oly, pronounced Ollie and short for Olympics, was truly our first foster animal. That’s right! This journey started, months earlier, with a cat named Oly. However, that’s another story for another time.

He will live…in our flat! The pit in my stomach grew each time this realization crossed my mind. The dread that strengthened its hold in my gut as I drove home made me second-guess if I had done the right thing. After all, what could I do for this little puppy?  He would live. But, in what condition? Was I actually helping by picking this little animal up? Or, was I butting in where -nature- should be left to sort it out. Admittedly, speeding jeeps and egoistical, self-centered people may not be part of natural selection. However, the thought remains, what good can come of this? When I last saw him, this little puppy was in a lot of pain and he couldn’t walk. What if he is crippled? What if expensive surgery is necessary? What if he never recovers? How compassionate is it to prolong the inevitable and force this little puppy to endure further pain and discomfort just to satisfy some sort of messiah complex that made me think I could help. Who am I to force myself into a situation that may not be able to be fixed, perhaps making it worse? Perhaps I shouldn’t have interfered.

This internal struggle continued until I reminded myself of my efforts at making each moment count. I cannot remember the amount of times I’ve continued driving, turned the other way and kept walking or, in some other way, ignored a situation where someone or something needed help. I imagine I am not alone in this. Nonetheless, I will not pretend to know what goes on in other people’s hearts and minds. I can only speak for myself. And, for me, what I  -know- is that I would always justify these actions, or inaction, with the same types of thoughts I expressed above. Who am I to get involved? What good can I do? That person or animal can’t be helped. I don’t want to butt in. And, so it goes. I would justify my inhumanity and willingness to stand by as others struggle, and maybe suffer, by telling myself that’s what was best.  Maybe not getting involved in the past was best. Maybe it wasn’t. The point is I will never know because I made no effort to stop and ask, or offer my help in any way. Wrong or right; good or bad; I understood then, for me, the right thing IS to stop and ask. I can no longer stand by and expect someone else to stop and help. Whatever the consequences, I  -needed-  to stop and help this dog; I was  -supposed-  to stop and help this dog. It is clear to me that this will not be the last time I stop to help another living creature if they need help, human or otherwise.

Danielle and I went back to the clinic the next morning not knowing what we would find out from the doctor. As is typical for Sochi, we arrived about thirty minutes late. Based on the amount of traffic and the unpredictability of things here, thirty minutes late is almost like being on time. The staff at the clinic had already completed their morning shift change and there was no one there that I recognized from the night before. However, it didn’t take long before everyone in the clinic knew who we were. They asked our name when we entered and we gave them our last name. It was as if two strangers entered a small village and each woman and child ran from one hut to another telling everyone about the arrival of those described in the tale of the feral dog that was picked up by a crazy American. Almost before we could finish saying our name, people were coming from the back of the clinic to see us. They all smiled as they greeted the foolish Americans. Foolish or not, I couldn’t help but notice they seemed quite enamored by us.

It was only a couple of minutes before we were able to see the doctor, Vitaly. He greeted us and asked us if we would be taking the puppy home then. Danielle and I stared, dumbfounded, at him trying to understand what he was getting at. Danielle and I exchanged confused glances and briefly whispered that we were not ready to take the dog home. The doctor could tell that we were unsure of what was going on.  Vitaly waved his hand, motioning us to follow him, as he turned and led us into the labyrinth of rooms off the lobby. We were led into the crate-lined back room, where I saw the cat with an IV in his leg the night before. The little puppy was in the back left corner of the room, in a crate, on top of a countered ledge. His crate was one of two along the back wall. I walked up to his crate and said hi to the little guy. He didn’t respond to me the way he did the night before. He just laid there, with his head down.

Vitaly helped with opening the crate and reached in and pulled the puppy out. Vitaly said the puppy was “OK” and he could go home with us right then. I asked him what kind of injuries he had. The doctor told us the only injury the dog had was the large wound under his chin. He lifted the dog’s head to show me the stitches and drain tube that were placed on the wound the previous night.  I asked about the x-rays and the fact that the puppy couldn’t walk. The doctor lifted the puppy to the floor as he pointed out the puppy could walk just fine. The pup wasn’t walking “just fine”, but he was able to support his own weight and move a bit on his own.  The little dog stood with his head hung low, his back hunched over and his tail between his legs. The doctor suggested his inability to walk the night before may have been due to shock or fear. However, Vitaly assured us the x-rays were negative. He explained that, other than a few bumps and scrapes, the wound on his neck was the only injury the little guy had sustained.

I was speechless. I saw this same puppy not more than twelve hours earlier. He was unable to walk and, at times, so close to death that he wasn’t breathing. I could not comprehend how the only injury he had was the neck wound. I am not a veterinarian. But, I know what I saw. That dog could not walk. He was close to death. Now, I am being told I can take him home any time. Vitaly and I discussed a few other details regarding what still needed to be done to treat the neck wound. He showed us how to clean the wound and gave us instructions to keep the wound dry and clean. Vitaly could still see Danielle and I were not prepared to take the pup home at that moment. He offered that, until the wound healed enough for the drain tube to be removed, the little guy could remain boarded at the clinic.

Until this was offered, I wasn’t really sure what we would do. I was already running late. I was not going to be able to take Danielle all the way home before heading off to work. On top of this, we had nowhere for this dog to sleep. We didn’t have food for him. We didn’t even have a collar or a leash for him. I must admit, there was a part of me that thought we could return to the clinic that morning to hear bad news and the doctor would tell us the puppy grew weaker overnight and didn’t survive. I certainly wasn’t expecting to take the little guy home right then. Clearly, Vitaly’s suggestion of leaving the dog at the clinic for a few days was the only option. This would give us time to gather the necessary resources we needed to foster a wounded little puppy. After a few last words with the doctor, and saying good bye to the little pup again, we went to the lobby to make payment arrangements for the extended boarding and medications the puppy would need over the next few days. Danielle and I left. I dropped her off in the center of town, a few blocks away from our flat, and drove to work. As I drove to work, alone, I thought back to what the doctor said to me before we left the clinic. As I was walking out the door, the doctor said something I had already realized. He said, “I think it’s about time you give him a name”. He smiled a sly, knowing smile that suggested to me that he already knew the bond that had begun to grow between me and the pup, even before I realized it.

The previous night, after I had left the puppy at the clinic, I had the fleeting thought of what his name would be if it became necessary. It was one, quick thought that only lingered long enough for me to realize it was much too early to be having these thoughts. After all, when I left the little guy, he was in bad shape. Still, I was told he would live and I had already promised I would take him home after he was treated.  I knew in my heart Danielle and I could not have another dog. Truly and honestly I didn’t want to keep him and never intended to make him part of our family. Nevertheless, if he would be staying with us for a bit, while we found him a forever home, he needed a name. As I drove, I was reminded of my new found approach to counting my turns each day; this approach that I adopted because I wind the new mechanical watch I bought. I thought of how all of this seemed strangely connected and how the feelings and energy I experienced with the puppy was something I had never felt before. It was clear to me that my new awareness and the experience with this dog were connected. My new watch, a Raketa, was the reason for all of these strange and wonderful new experiences. This watch, and my new awareness, I am convinced, was the reason I had no choice but to stop and help this little dog. Raketa is the Russian word for rocket. And so, just as there was little thought put towards deciding to stop and help this dog, there was little thought to what his name would be. The answer was obvious and needed no contemplation or discussion. His name is Rocket.

Danielle and I, together with the doctor, had agreed that we would come and visit Rocket occasionally while he stayed at the clinic to recover. We first visited Rocket two days after our initial morning visit. We followed the doctor into the backroom where Rocket was laying in his crate. This time, it seemed that Rocket recognized us and sat up when I greeted him. We took him out of his crate and placed him on the stainless steel exam table that was located in the middle of the room. We quickly realized this was not the environment to help this little guy get used to us and to get over the trauma of the clinic experience. We asked the doctor if it would be OK if we took Rocket outside. Without saying a word, the doctor left the room and returned a short time later with a collar and a leash.

I went into the front lobby of the clinic to look for some treats that would help encourage Rocket to get outside using the leash. The clinic has a lot of different pet food options, leashes and other supplies available for purchase. I settled on two small, individually wrapped, sausage-like treats. I returned to the backroom where Danielle had finished putting the collar and leash on Rocket. We placed Rocket on the floor and used the treats to get him to follow us. Rocket was resistant to the leash and we were careful not to pull him using the leash. We held the leash loosely while he walked on his own. He would take a few steps trying to get the treat. Then, he would grow uncomfortable and put the brakes on. I broke the treat into pieces and gave him a couple of bites and then lured him, a few steps at time. He would alternate following us with digging in his heels in protest. We repeated this cycle for a few minutes, until we were outside.

Completing this process drew quite a crowd. The doctor was already with us. But, as we worked with Rocket, getting him to walk on his own, without pulling on the leash, a couple of nurses peaked around corners to watch us. Danielle and I worked together to project positive energy and confidence as Rocket worked through being unsure about the leash and the commotion of the gathering audience. We encouraged him when he worked through the tough spots and rewarded him with a small treat. However, we were careful not to coddle him or force him as he worked through his reservations on his own.  At one point, the doctor said, “You guys have a lot of experience with dogs”. He smiled, an approving smile, at our techniques. I smiled back, a bit awkwardly, wondering if he knew the two dogs we currently have, the oldest of which is only three years old, are the only dogs I have ever owned. I wondered if he would still consider this “a lot” of experience. Either way, I couldn’t help but feel that he was impressed by our approach.

We got outside and Rocket immediately went into a shell. He hung his head, half sitting, with his tail between his legs. It was almost as if he was experiencing sensory overload. The sunshine, the noise of cars in the parking lot, even the presence of the doctor really seemed to lock him deeper into wherever it was he was going as he hid from the outside world. The doctor left us, as we continued to work with Rocket. Rocket was incredibly insecure during the whole experience. The treats weren’t working as well and each time we tried to get him to walk on his own he seemed to panic. He was pacing, turning back and forth as if he was looking for a corner to hide in. It took a few minutes for us to realize that each car that drove by, especially the ones playing obnoxiously loud music, threw Rocket deeper into a panic.

With this understanding, we changed our approach and decided to try and get him to the grass area that was around the corner. This small park had a couple of benches and a few small trees. It took some work, but we were able to get Rocket to the park, albeit by skirting the edge of the parking lot, between the cars and the small fence around the park. Rocket was not about to walk in the parking lot. He was determined to stay as far away from the cars as he could. Reflecting back on the fact that he had been hit by a speeding car less than three days earlier, his behavior was understandable.

Once we reached the park, Rocket began to slowly transform. We no longer had to beg and coerce him to follow us using the treats. He was attached to us and was completely focused on the food. He completely dismissed the earlier fear and hesitation and started acting like a hungry little puppy. He was excited and impatient as he pawed at my hands trying to get more food. I poured some water into my cupped hand to offer him water. He greedily lapped it up. He still stayed close and didn’t venture far from us, but he certainly wasn’t hiding in his shell any longer.

After a few minutes of working with him to instill some boundaries with his new found love for food, I decided to take him for a small  -walk- in the grass. We only had about ten meters to work with, half of which was blocked by overhung tree branches. It was much less of a  -walk- and more of an exercise for Rocket to follow me on the leash while staying in the comfortable, much more emotionally stable zone he had entered. Initially, Rocket was hesitant to follow me. He was comfortable sitting, playing with us near the benches. He wasn’t so sure about following me. It took a bit of work, but eventually Rocket joined me. We walked in circles, in and out of the small trees. Rocket walked as a puppy does; back and forth, up and down, but never in a straight line. Now was not the time to teach him leash discipline. I just wanted him to walk with me and to trust me. I’m sure the overall scene was quite comical as I crashed through small tree branches, trying to avoid having my eyes gouged by branches while trying not to step on Rocket. This continued for a very short time. Then, it happened.



I tried to walk back to the bench where Danielle had been taking pictures and video of Rocket’s progress. Rocket had been doing pretty well, not concerned with the leash or the cars driving by. Yet, when I turned to walk, he didn’t follow. I turned to see what he was doing. He didn’t seem to be regressing into his shell, but he clearly was not interested in leaving the grass area. As I worked with him to try and get him to follow me, he simply plopped down on his belly. He just laid there, in the grass, with a silly smile on his face. At that moment, I experienced one the most intense feelings I have ever had. It welled up inside of me to the point that I was choked up a bit. There Rocket was, just laying down, with a big, dumb, happy smile on his face, enjoying the shaded grass. He was being a dog! Less than three days after being hit by a car and, I’m still convinced, close to death, this feral puppy was sitting in the grass, with his tongue hanging out, enjoying life. In that moment, he did not have a care in the world. I wondered if this was the first time he felt this way. I will never be sure. But, what was clear was, this dog laying in the grass was not the same puppy we saw two days earlier in the clinic kennel. He wasn’t even the dog we saw a few minutes earlier.

Roket just bein' a dog!

We finished our time with Rocket and made arrangements to come visit him again soon. On the drive home, Danielle and I discussed the transformation we witnessed. Danielle told me she felt the same thing I had when she saw Rocket laying in the grass. Then, as she was explaining to me what she had felt as she watched Rocket, she began to cry. She was crying now, not just a little choked up. She explained to me that when she saw Rocket in the grass, walking around, playing and just being a dog, she understood something. Through her tears, she said, “I realized this is what we were meant to be doing”. She cried for a bit and joked that she didn’t know why she was crying. One thing was clear though, this experience, this dog, had touched us both.

Those ears!!!

We visited Rocket a few more times over the course of the week before he was ready to come home with us. Rocket progressed in his recognition, and in his trust, of us. He hardly hesitated when we put the collar on him and took him outside. He transformed in another way too. His name changed, ever so slightly. We learned that Raketa (Ракета) is the feminine form of rocket and the masculine form is Roket (Рокет). With a Suay and a Crash already in the house, it was easy to have a Roket. After all, it would be unfair (to him) for him to have a  -normal- name. So, his name changed from “Rocket” to “Roket”.

In another unexplainable, yet telling, coincidence, Roket came home with us, to his foster home, on National Dog Day. On the official website, you can read about how National Dog Day helps bring attention to our best friends and the “miraculous” impact they have on our lives. They also endeavor year round to raise awareness for rescues and adoptions that help find forever homes for dogs of all breeds. There are too many coincidences in Roket’s journey for me to believe they are simply just coincidences. He had already impacted our lives in a miraculous way.


Roket's first night in his foster home.

The biggest twist of fate we’ve experienced is the fact that I met Roket first and picked him up from the road. I took him to the vet and began a close relationship with him that first night. I was touched by his progress and his ability to simply be a dog that day in the grass. But, it was Danielle that really put in the work. I’ve already described our home and how full it is. Imagine adding to that a young puppy of only 4 months old, who has never lived indoors before. Picture in your head this small living space on the 10th floor of a large apartment building. Now, try to understand the amount of work that goes into house breaking a puppy in this environment. There is no option of opening the back door and letting him run outside. You must get him on an elevator, outside of the building and to the grass, or in Roket’s case the bushes. The bushes directly outside of our building became his favorite potty spot. And, that was a victory in itself because he finally stopped squatting and doing his business in the middle of the concrete drive way. Imagine doing all of this 4-5 times a day, sometimes running, hoping he makes it outside before having an accident. Picture yourself doing this with a puppy who only wants to jump and play and do anything else but wait on an elevator to go outside and pee. And, as you’re picturing yourself in this role, don’t forget you have two other dogs to add to this circus.



Getting to know the girls.


Danielle put in so much work into turning Roket into the dog he will become. The trips outside, coupled with the walks down a busy boardwalk with three dogs tangled around her legs as people looked on in amazement and, sometimes, contempt. She taught him to sit. She taught him to wait patiently for his food and not to jump around crazily as he anticipated his meal. She insisted he wait patiently outside and get permission to enter the flat instead of running in like a crazed, wild animal. At times there were tears of frustration and there were moments of anger towards me. All I did was pick this dog up on the road and then go to work every day while she was left to take care of him. If anyone should be praised for helping Roket, Danielle is the one who deserves the commendation.


Roket taught us a lot. He showed us what it takes to foster a dog. He helped us realize the amount of work it takes to transform a street dog into a pet. He helped us understand the teamwork that is needed in order to instill the boundaries, discipline and structure necessary to maintain any semblance of your previous life, before the foster takes over. Roket also provided me another reason to appreciate and love Danielle and reminded me of the strength she possesses. He helped us realize the path we are on was the correct one. One could argue whether we helped Roket, or if he helped us. Either way, Roket will always hold a special place in our hearts. After all, in finding Roket, we actually found ourselves.



Friday, October 18, 2013

Sochi Winter Theatre...Oh Russia! TGIF!

Since moving to Russia, we have created a bucket list of things to see while we are here. One of the items on our list was to see a performance in the зимний театр (Winter Theatre). Mark's colleague and friend gave him two tickets to the theatre as a birthday gift. We are going to the theatre!

The theatre is an impressive old building which you can tell is very loved and well maintained. The inside of the theatre was very grand with an over-sized chandelier on the ceiling. The theatre is no Bolshoi, but the Sochi Winter Theatre is a very beautiful theatre inside and out.

Sochi Winter Theatre

Sochi Winter Theatre

Inside of the Sochi Winter Theatre

The concert we went to see was the Северного русского народного хора (Northern Russian Folk Choir). This was a choir of about 20 women, a dance troupe of 7 men and 7 women, and an orchestra of traditional Russian folk instruments. It was very impressive. They all seemed very well rehearsed and were completely in sync.

This is the choir in one of their many intricate traditional Russian costumes.
The teal dresses were my favorite...I wonder why ;)

The dance troupe. They did a lot of clogging-type dance along 
with the traditional Russian style of dancing.

One of my favorite performances was what I interpreted as the "friendship song". The two women kept singing about their "padruga". Even though I couldn't understand all of it, I could understand the gist of what was going on and it was a great performance.

подруга (Padrugas)!

Another favorite of the night was the drummer. He was a man of many talents, but the best was his spoons performance. He did a solo where he was completely covered with wooden spoons. The orchestra played behind him as he played the rhythm of the clickety-clack of the spoons all over his body. He was very talented.

ложки (Spoons)

I also finally got to see someone playing the Balalaika. The Balalaika is a Russian folk string instrument with a triangular body and three stings. They come in different sizes which dictates the pitch. I have seen this instrument in photos before but never in action. It was definitely one of the highlights of the performance.

This is the bass balalaika.

I thank our friends for this incredible gift. Not only did we get to tick the Winter Theatre off of our list, but we got to experience an amazing performance of traditional Russian culture. And we had such a great time at the theatre that we kept it on the list to do again. :) 



Saturday, October 12, 2013

The 50 Ruble Coin...Oh Russia! TGIF!

I am not really a coin collector. I do love a good pressed penny machine where I get to manually press the penny by twisting the crank. OK, I also confess to having a little pressed penny coin book from Sea World from back in the day. I remember dragging my brother all around Sea World to help me find every one of those darn pennies with Shamu on them.

Instead of the old fashioned, do-it-yourself type machine, lately I have noticed a lot of new souvenir coin machines where you just put your money in and get a shiny new coin out of it. I have to admit, I have a couple of those too. I don't know what my deal is with souvenir coins but my slight obsession with silly coins is not really what I wanted to write about.

I was walking the girls the other day and I stumbled upon a really dingy coin on the ground. Now, typically, I don't pick these up. I honestly leave them lying on the ground for someone who is really in need of finding that last ruble they need to buy some food, or let's be realistic, vodka. However, when my parents were here, my dad picked up a few coins that I had not seen before. So, now I take a closer look at the coins I come across. I picked this one up, as I thought it looked unique. And, it was. I found a 50 Ruble coin! I had never seen one of these before. They have a 50 Ruble note, but I didn't know that a coin even existed. Mark did some digging online and, according to the little information he could find, the only year that these coins were made was in 1993, two years after the fall of the Soviet Union. Or, they could have been made in 1995 but have the year 1993 printed on them. Oh Russia... :)  50 Rubles is roughly worth $1.50 USD. I was really excited to find something so unique just lying on the ground. I attribute the fact that this coin was recently unearthed to all of the beautification they are doing around Adler for the Games. They have been doing a lot of digging lately as they are resurface walkways, add benches and garbage cans, replace the curbing along our little main road, and add new grass along the sidewalks. I think my little area of Adler will look quite nice come Games time.


While I am talking about cool coins we have collected while in Russia, I need to mention a couple more.

We had a friend in Moscow that called himself a "communist". Oleg  was a middle aged guy who lived in our neighborhood and was in love with our girls, Suay in particular. We would always meet each other in the park behind our flat and we do our best to chat with him. His English was about the same as our Russian...nearly non-existent at that time. Sometimes, we would exchange little gifts and one day he gave us this coin with Lenin on it. It's a 1 Ruble (3 cents) coin that is commemorating 100 years of Lenin's birth...1870-1970. Yes, the coin was minted in the Soviet Union in 1970! This coin is not rare, but it is special to us and we treasure it even more because of where it came from and who gave it to us.


While on our road trip this summer, we got a souvenir coin from an automated machine at Peter and Paul's Fortress in St. Petersburg. There were four coins to choose from or you could select the fifth option which would randomly choose one of the four coins for you. We couldn't decide which coin we liked more, so we decided to let the machine pick for us. For fun, before looking at the coin, we held the coin, together, in our hands trying to -feel- which coin we received. We both agreed and guessed  we would get the coin with the griffin on it...and we were right! Now it is our lucky St. Petersburg coin.


I also picked up a coin at Gorky Park while I was in Moscow last month with my parents. I chose the table tennis one because Mark likes to play table tennis.


Nothing too exciting about these souvenir coins except that they came from places that we like and they all hold certain memories in them. For not being coin collectors, we sure have some pretty awesome coins.




Wednesday, October 9, 2013

Matryoshka Bottle Cap Crafts

I love to craft and be creative. I haven't had many chances to craft while being here in Russia. Plus, it is very hard to find the supplies that I need. They do have things like fabric, knitting supplies and cross stitch. But those don't warm my heart as much as making a good paper craft or gift. It just so happens that I brought the supplies from home to make one of my favorites...bottle caps. I had purchased some matryoshka doll stickers while I was in Moscow and was just dying to try them in the bottle caps. I think they turned out pretty well. See for yourself...

Gathering my supplies.

Before I added the resin.

Letting the resin harden. I use toothpicks to poke out all of the bubbles in the resin.


The finished products!

Necklace for my padruga.

Frame for another padruga. Lyrics by Fun.





Sunday, October 6, 2013

Sochi Storm Watch...Oh Russia! TGI...Sunday? :)

So, a couple of weeks ago I wrote about the storms and the flooding we had here in Sochi. Well, I wrote about it a bit too soon. My parents came to visit last week and, wouldn't you know, we had the craziest weather I have ever seen in my life. Let me preface this by saying that I am from California. I lived in Idaho for a while and weather there was a little wacky, but not like this. I have never been in tornado or hurricane country. So, this may not seem as crazy to some of you who have endured that before. But, as I said,it was crazy!

It started on Monday. We went to the airport to pick up our rental car and the rain started as we were sitting in traffic. Someone important was on their way into town so the authorities closed all of the roads in the vicinity. We sat in traffic for an hour and a half and went about 50 meters. Luckily we were in a nice warm car while the rain poured buckets and buckets from the heavens above. Once traffic let up, we were able to get in some sightseeing with my parents before heading to the flat. Later that night, we made our list of sights we wanted to see for the rest of the week. We decided that Tuesday would be our relax day and we would stay home. And, it is a good thing we did.

It seemed as though the sky poured buckets down all day Tuesday with very little let up. The building that we live in has a sister building across the parking lot. Between the two buildings are garages that are below ground level.  When it rains, it usually fills up these garage areas pretty good. By mid-day, the garages were full to the top. We hadn't seen it like that before. My dad kept asking if this heavy weather was normal. Finally, we had to tell him that it was definitely not normal. 

This is only the beginning. The silver Hyundai on the left is our rental car. 
We moved it shortly after this picture was taken. 

Between our two building - photo taken from our window.

This is the main street that leads to our buildings.

By that evening, we were wading up to our KNEES in water to take the girls and Roket out for a pee. The water rose even higher when we came back in with the dogs and the water was so high that it started filling my rain boots. Crash was actually swimming at this point. Swimming - on flat ground! Ridiculous! We called it a night and hoped that the flooding would subside in the morning so we could at least get to the car to drive to Sochi.




We resorted to wearing shorts and water shoes.

The aftermath the next morning.

The next morning, the water had gone out, except for the garages. They were still filled to the top. We were able to get to the car without any troubles and headed to Sochi for a day of sightseeing, shopping  and, of course, to eat at Hatchipuri! After spending some time in center Sochi, we had planned to go to the Sea Port to see the countdown clock and the marina. As Mark went to get the car, my parents and I waited in a new, cute little coffee shop. On a side note, the coffee was meh, just as every other coffee we've had in Sochi. Mark called as he got close. I remember walking outside to meet him and not believing my eyes. The wind was so bad that it was knocking down trees. That's right, multiple trees, one right after another, were being uprooted or snapped in half. I will never forget the sound of the deafening wind roaring up the river bed and the snapping and cracking as the trees broke and fell. The wind was so fierce that it was pushing the water from the river up and over the sea wall. It looked to me what I picture a hurricane looking like. And, I kind of panicked...unfortunately. I yelled for Mark and my mom to get out of the car because I was so afraid that a tree was going to fall on top of them or the water was going to wash them away. It was that bad. It only lasted for a few minutes and then it was calm. After seeing this link, I am convinced that the water spouts pictured came onto the land just like a tornado and we were right in the middle of it.

Note: The link in the above paragraph is a Russian website that has many pictures from this same storm. Exact location and photographers are unknown. We do not take credit for these photos.

After collecting myself, we all got back into the car and drove towards our destination of the sea port. After traveling only a few hundred meters we were stopped by traffic, of course. There were people turning around driving the opposite direction on a one way road. We finally deciphered, through bits of Russian and charade-like hand motions, that a tree had fallen and was blocking the road. The traffic was still moving forward so we continued on. Then we came to the tree. Everyone was actually going up and over the curb and through the park to avoid the tree. We discussed that our car was too small to handle that and then Mark said, "Why don't we just move the tree. How hard can it be?" So, we parked our car in front of the tree, and Mark, my dad and I got out to move the tree. I asked my mom to stay behind to take pictures. :) Once we had the tree mostly moved, a guy comes blazing past our car and tries to drive right through where we were still working. The guy almost hit my dad with his car. As this was happening, Mark may or may not have dropped a branch on the guy's windshield and it may or may not have been on purpose ;)  The guy then stopped his car to get out and yell at Mark. At this point, we had moved enough of the tree to get through so we just walked away from the angry guy. As we were walking back to our car, more and more people were swerving around us, on both sides, to drive through the pathway we had just created. This was the most telling moment that we have experienced yet in Russia. Usually, in situations like this, people come together and help each other get through these types of hardships. This was completely the opposite of that and everyone was looking out for themselves only.

Mark heading over to move the tree that was blocking the road.

Trees were down all over the city. This one had snapped in half at the sea port.

Just a few minutes after the tree incident, we were able to joke about it while walking along the sea port.

I was shocked by everything that happened these couple of days. The amount of water that filled the streets, the water spouts on the sea, and the total disregard of others displayed during the tree incident. Like I said, this was the craziest weather I have ever seen in my life and I hope this is not what is in store for the rest of winter. This storm seemed to be very unusual for this time of year. Last year, it was still hot at this time. This particular storm actually brought a lot of snow to the mountains already. It has been unseasonably cold. Hopefully it keeps up so there is a lot of snow for the Games! But I could do without the flooding and soggy boots!

The mountains in Krasnaya Polyana the following day covered in snow.



Saturday, September 14, 2013

Sochi Traffic - Oh Russia! TGIF!

Everyone hates traffic. And it seems that any where you go, there is traffic. We have driven in quite a few different countries and every single one has their traffic issues. Sochi is, by far, the worst traffic we have ever had to deal with. Mark works less than 10 kilometers from our flat. Within the last month, traffic has increased so much that it sometimes takes him 3 hours to get home. 3 hours! Yikes! Last weekend Mark tried to 'run' to the store really quick. 4 hours later he returned home having never even made it to the store.

I think what sets this traffic apart from the rest is the utter lack of respect and courtesy on the road. If you knowingly cut someone off, and look at them, it is considered rude and disrespectful. If you cut them off, making sure to not look in their direction, it's acceptable. In a way, acknowledging that someone is there is more ill-mannered than ignoring their existence all together.

The crazy traffic nonsense we have seen just this week:

People will drive on the wrong side of the road. Not just 'I'm being rude and impatient, I am going to pass everyone'. They will make sure their car is facing the correct direction of the flow of traffic, put their flashers on, and drive backwards down the other side of the road. Yes, backwards. But they have their flashers on and the car is facing the right direction, so that's ok, right?

People get out of their cars to have a smoke or a chat with the guy behind them. They can't just sit in their cars and wait, they have to be out and about.

Driving on the right shoulder, a shoulder that barely exists, ridden with enormous potholes and covered in trash, they pass everyone. And they don't just mosey on by, they fly!

Passengers of taxis, busses and cars will actually get out and walk to their destination because it is a faster mode of transportation. They will just get out of the vehicle on the -freeway-, or wherever the traffic backs up, and start walking. Some will even do a super fast walk if the traffic starts to move in hopes the vehicle they abandoned does not pass them and cause them to look stupid. Yet, this silly walk they do makes them look stupid anyway. On Thursday, Mark took the shuttle home from work. Actually, he took the shuttle half way home from work. The traffic was stopped, with no movement at all, for about 10 minutes. The shuttle was less than 1 kilometer from the bus stop where Mark and our friends would have been dropped off and walked home from anyway. They decided to exit the shuttle and walk the rest of the way home. Below is a photo of our friends Harb and Daniele as they walked across the bridge as traffic stood still. When in Rome....I mean Russia...


Yandex is the Russian equivalent to Google. The Yandex Maps app is our savior. We can check traffic and 95% of the time, what Yandex shows is accurate. Below is a screenshot of the traffic we sat in on Wednesday night. Green means "go", yellow means it's slow, red means it's pretty packed, dark red with the smaller arrows super close together means it's a parking lot.
  

Note: The blue mark is where our flat is.

After living here, I long to sit in traffic in the States. At least there it is somewhat civilized and orderly. Often times, depending on the State you are driving in, people will even let you over if you have your blinker on. Here, they move over into the other lane or on to the shoulder, just to prevent you from merging. We have seen numerous fender benders caused by egos and stubbornness. The small crashes occur when the two vehicles are vying for the same lane and neither of them want to budge. They inch forward, each trying to out-maneuver the other, eventually running out of space as they crash. Russian law requires vehicles to remain in the roadway, where the crash occurred, until the police arrive. It often takes hours for the police to show up. Of course, this clogs the lane even more, traffic gets worse and the scenario gets played out behind them again and again as people try and merge around the crash.


The next time you are sitting in traffic, on a lovely paved road with lanes and laws that people abide by, take a moment to be grateful. It could be a whole heck of a lot worse!