more photos from Namibia

spending my time

I have spent the time since Sam left for Angola in Windhoek with his family. It’s been a really laid-back time; quiet and fairly uneventful especially during the week when everyone is busy with school or work. The weekend was a bit livelier, with Ito home from the Cheetah farm and all the kids around the house. On Saturday I got together with Jennie at Hein and Nadine’s house and we watched the Tri-Nations (rugby) – South Africa vs. New Zealand. SA won it by quite a lot, but it was due mostly to free kicks – they made only 2 actual tries. So it wasn’t a particularly exciting game. I headed home around dusk and watched a movie with all the kids before dinner.
Sunday was church again and a late family lunch. In the evening a few of us went to Pick N’ Pay to get a few ingredients we needed to make a cheesecake (which the kids had never heard of, and was suggested by Ito). I showed Maezinha how to make the cake as we prepared it together. A few hours later I was given the job of cutting and serving and everyone seemed quite pleased with the result.
Monday night there was a lot of studying going on since its exam time. There was a question about some English tenses and it came out that I’m an English teacher. That was it. For the next two hours I tutored Paiza and Flavio on everything from Past Perfect Continuous tense to articles, to Proper Nouns. They laughed and called it “NamEnglish” when they asked me if it was correct grammar to say, “My head is paining”, and I had to say no, but that it should be, “My head hurts” because pain is a noun, but hurt is a verb. I heard Flavio explaining it to someone else the next day, so I guess he learned pretty well. He said he thought the exam went well and he told me that when he needed to use a proper noun to replace “she” on the exam, he had used “Amanda”. Ha.
I’ve heard from Sam intermittently via sms and email. Yesterday he assisted in several procedures including (for all your medical types that know what that means). He says the days are long but really interesting and a lot of fun. I think it was a good decision to go do his practical work there. Already he has done more than his entire time at the hospital at his school last summer, where they had him pushing patients in wheelchairs from one place to another. The money spent on this trip is well worth it, and I trust God will continue to provide for us as He always has, when it comes time to pay tuition again.
Tomorrow I head to Okahandja again for some much anticipated time with Maveja and time spent enjoying the familiarity of a place I once called home.

Sad “See-You-Laters”

I watched as Sam climbed into an over-packed mini-bus headed to Oshakati on the border of Namibia and Angola. As I climbed into bed that night, I knew he was plodding along cramped in between the man next to him and his backpack filled with things to occupy him and snacks I hoped would sustain him on the LONG trek. The next morning at 7:40 am, he arrived at the border and crossed into Angola. He had a few hours at the border, bought a SIM card to keep in contact with me while he’s there, and secured a place on the next bus to carry him all the way Lubango. Although that leg of the trip is only about 400km, due to the road conditions he wouldn’t arrive till late at night. Please pray for his safety and SANITY as he spends time in Angola!

Okahandja

On Tuesday afternoon Sam and I took a taxi to Okahandja. I love the beautiful countryside on the way. It just reminds me of all the times I’d driven that trip. I’ve missed seeing that. We stayed at the CHI International Center, in the “USA” room, where Gert and Gerianna used to live. Having our own little bungalow with its own kitchen and everything was just perfect. It was such a nice little place, Sam and I were wishing we had something just like it in SPB. Sylvia Holtzhauzen is in OKH now and it was great visiting with her over coffee and dinner.

a taste of Okahandja:

town


cows


driving to Nau Aib





The second evening we got to meet up with Maveja after she got home from work and we had a wonderful little braai – just like old times – in the sand outside her house. It was SO good to catch up and share a meal together. Her dad and brother even came home in time to eat with us. Maveja’s little boy – JJ – is about 1 yr and half now and he’s a cute little thing. He didn’t know what to think of me at first. He was fine with Sam, so we decided that my skin color was freaking him out. But he eventually warmed up to me. Maveja is working 7 days a week right now, as a cleaner for the National Defence Force at Osana Base which is a little bit outside Okahandja. After our braai, she said she wanted to see about getting a few days off so we could spend some time together, which she did, and so we’ll be getting together next week to really catch up.

Maveja and JJ


Braai










I was also able to re-connect with the ladies at the woodcarvers market, spend some time chatting with them and show them some of our wedding photos, which they were asking about. On Thursday a team from CA came into OKH as their last stop before heading home after serving for 2 weeks in Keetmanshoop. They had a big braai Thursday night and Sylvia, Sam and I invited ourselves for some very yummy food. =)

Braai Night #2 - Jennie




During the day Sam spent most of his time doing odd jobs around the center – fixing things and working with his hands – the way he feels most happy. I got to help him put in rods in the closets for hanging clothes.

so happy...


I also got my hair cut by the lady who used to do my hair when I live in OKH. She even remembered me after 2 years and asked where I had been. And as usual she did a phenomenal job with her crazy flying scissors. Sam calls it my “Russian Cutie” haircut. At first I didn’t know if that was good or bad, but according to his comment this morning, I now know that’s a compliment. =) But you can judge for yourself.
I asked Sam to take a picture and he started taking a while photo shoot. I was laughing and here’s what resulted:

Things we’ve been enjoying:
Sun, sun , sun!
Oshikandela
Boerevors and broetchens
family
dear friends
braais
glorious sunsets
more stars then you’ve ever seen
the little changes that happen in 2 years (or 3 in Sam’s case)
Oma rusks
rugby
my new “Russian Cutie” haircut
creamy vanilla
Namibian Coke
Nandos
going to bed early and waking up early
the way Africa just brings a smile like no other place can

Church

It warmed up considerably the second two days here (and maybe we adjusted a bit too), to the point where at least during the day I could wear short sleeves. The sun of course is still glorious and the sky as blue as can be. Sunday we went to church at Sam’s dad church – he pastors a Baptist church that meets in a school classroom in Windhoek. It’s a Portuguese-speaking church. Both times I have been there, the message has been translated into English, but my guess is that was for my benefit. All the kids are involved in the service some way – choir, keyboard, set-up - and in my estimation, make up about half the small congregation. The singing was beautiful – some Portuguese, some English, and also some Umbundu. Sam’s dad gave a good sermon, with Ito translating it into English.

Wanaheda, Katatura - Windhoek

Upon arrival at the Windhoek Airport, we stepped onto the tarmac and celebrated with big grins. I didn’t realize how happy we looked about being back in Namibia until later when I looked at the photo. It says it all.





We sailed through passport control and into the baggage pick up. After 15 unsuccessful minutes of waiting, we headed to the lost luggage counter and filled out our forms, as is very typical when arriving from Jo-burg, particularly at the start of a weekend. Sam’s dad was there to greet us with his characteristic big hug and even bigger smile. We drove to the home of Sam’s parents in Katatura, Windhoek. (The big “location” in Windhoek). Sam’s family is from Angola but have lived in Namibia for more than 10 years. They have opened their home to numerous kids from Angola whose parents send them to Namibia to go to high school – where they can get a better education. Every year there are new faces. Currently there are 9 kids ranging from early to late teens who live with them. There are 3 boys and 6 girls. They’ve divided two bedrooms into a boys’ room and girls’ room, with bunk beds – dormitory style. There’s a chart on the door that very neatly lists everyone’s duties – dishes, sweeping and cleaning the house, various chores. They even take turns cooking. The house is a well-oiled machine. Everyone knows their job and pitches in to do their part. The addition of Sam and I displaced the boys, who now reside in part of the living room, which they partitioned off by a big curtain. 13 people in a 3 bedroom, one bath house might be challenging, but somehow, it works. The first weekend, Sam’s brother, Ito, was even in town so that made 14. It was nice to have almost the whole family together for a while, sharing meals and such. (Deborah, Sam’s sister is in South Africa studying.) In Namibia it’s respectful to title someone older than you, “aunt” and “uncle”. So now I’m Aunt Amanda, or simply, “Auntie” and Sam is “Uncle Sam”. I’m sure all my American friends find the humor in that.

Uncle Sam




Dinner! Sam, Dad, Mom, Ito


Some of the kids watching a really lame soap opera. They are SO into it!


The first two nights with near freezing temperatures had Sam and I layered in sweatshirts and jackets when awake and piled under heavy blankets when asleep. Sam’s family gave piles of warm clothes for us to choose from to make up for our missing baggage those first two days. I don’t know how they happened to have so many clothes that are perfectly my size, and even quite fashionable – some never even worn. I was very thankful for that.



Outside. Zambesi Street, Katatura


Home

Back on Namibian Soil

And it’s so very good. The trip itself was hellish, but being here and having recovered for several days, I can almost forget about the cramped, hot, and extremely uncomfortable train ride between SPB and Moscow. I can forget about the headache that I had for 3 days straight due to the afore-mentioned train ride. I can even forget how extremely FREEZING the airport in Johannesburg was when we killed 7 hours there before our final flight here. I can forget it all, because it’s so great to be back. OK, so maybe I can’t exactly forget….BUT the memory of the 43 hours of traveling to get here has certainly faded….a little. But I haven’t forgotten how good God was to us on our trip. For example, Johannesburg Intl. Airport, which I will now call “The Ice Airport” was as I said, frigid. Even though it’s the middle of winter they felt the need to blast ice cold air from every vent. The employees were all walking around in their coats and scarves. Sam and I however, were quite unprepared to have a layover in Antarctica, and therefore had only a hoodie and a lightweight fleece, respectively. We were, needless to say, rather miserable the first hour. After scouting for someplace remotely “not as cold” as everywhere else, we settled on the upper floor near where all the premium and first class lounges are located. Sam went into the internet room where a few other people has gathered and were sleeping at the computer desks. I was so tired and really just wanted to lie down. So I just lay on the floor in the hallway and covered my arms with my towel for a little added warmth. Sam told me I’d probably get yelled at by one of the premium lounge people, but I decided that if anyone said anything to me, I would ask them where I could file a complaint about the near freezing temperatures. I had been lying there for about 10 minutes when two airport staff who worked in the premium class lounge walked by. One of the men looked at me and said, “Why are you sleeping out here when we have a lounge?” I looked at him curiously, since I know that those lounges are only for the uber frequent-flying elite. He smiled. “Follow me.” I did. And in he led me to the platinum lounge – soft leather couches and chairs, fresh fruit salad and muffins, toast, honey and jam, espresso machine all laid out and gleaming. Magazines and newspapers, a fridge filled with all kinds of cold drinks. My eyes boggled. He waved his hand and said, “Come. You are welcome.” (Not in a ‘response to thanks’ kind of way, but the way that South Africans use it to say, “Make your self at home.”) I walked quickly to one of the plush couches, put down my backpack, and ran to get Sam. He was a bit mystified when I grabbed him and headed into the lounge, but all was explained when the man who had brought me in came over and said, “Forgive me, I forgot to introduce myself.” He then did so, and again welcomed us and said, “Today I’d like you to be my guest.” We thanked him profusely and off he went about his work. For the next 6 hours we felt like kings. And it did wonders to rejuvenate us from the previous travel. A very kind young lady came by and asked us if we wanted to order anything and ran through a huge variety of choices. We both ate grilled BLT’s, had our fill of drinks and I had a cappuccino, of course. It just felt too decadent to make use of the room where they had actual beds and showers, and we didn’t want to wear out our welcome. So we lounged on the couches and read, relaxed, ate and when our flight was getting ready to board, we headed off towards the gate, thanking our friend again for what was truly a HUGE blessing, and totally unexpected.

COMING SOON:

PICTURES, STORIES AND ALL KINDS OF GOOD STUFF.

(as soon as i get a fast internet connection.)

birthday weekend in Finland

two weekends ago, Eric invited Sam and I to Finland to celebrate his sister Toini's birthday. (she is actually the same age as Sam and I) after much debating about whether or not to use Sam's one-entry Schengen visa which we had saved for a trip in case we didn't have the money to go to Africa this summer, we finally decided to take the plunge and trust in God's provision for our much hoped-for trip to Namibia. (and God has totally rewarded that leap!) We came to a decision Friday night and left Saturday morning on the train to Lahti. around noon we arrived, with Eric meeting us at the train station, along with Dima, Toini's husband. back at their house, the party was already in motion, inside and outside the house, despite the darkening rain clouds overhead. 40+ Russian natives, most of whom had emmigrated to Finland after the fall of the Soviet Union. Champagne and strawberries, rum, wine, etc, in hand - there was lots of chatting, several children running around chasing each other - typical party atmosphere, midday. soon after we arrived, the main attraction began - salsa lessons. the funniest thing, however, was that when Sam and I arrived, since no one at the party knew us, they all thought that WE were the dance instructors! the real instructors were an older couple who did their instruction in Finnish, though i have found that when doing something like dance or exercise, understanding directions is really not nearly so important. you watch, and soon you've got it. all the women had been directed to wear skirts with flounce since they "flow" and add that extra something to any Latin dance. The guys mostly watched, however a few brave souls sis join in either after enough drinks, or when given enough convincing, or in Sam's case, when given no choice. (might i add, that when i tried to coerce him, he wouldn't budge, but when outside pressure was applied, it was only a matter of time. so there was dancing, then there was FOOD! followed by coffee, more drinks, then out came the vodka, there was grilling of meat, singing of national anthems, lots of Russian people who had earlier been shy to use their English, now emboldened and chatting up a storm with us. finally at around 1am, there was karaoke. by 2, Sam and I were ready for some shut-eye. We climbed up into the low ceiling-ed attic loft where we would sleep, and we drifted off to the sounds of the partying below. the next day was a fine, sunny day and there was much of the same, only more low key. we passed the time sunbathing, reading, and picnic-ing in the glorious fresh air. The evening of Day 2 concluded with sauna and the Brazil vs. USA football match, which was surprisingly close. Eric and I supported the underdogs - (USA, of course). Sam and Pasha (Eric's teenage son) went with the odds and rooted for Brazil. Props to team USA, even though in the end, they lost. another night's sleep (a bit earlier and quieter this time) and then it was up early the next morning to catch the train home. Back to dirty city air and traffic noises...but home nonetheless.

Finland. June 27-29, 2009
Eric's sister, Toini, lives in Lahti, Finland - about 4 hours from here by train. Sam and I were invited with Eric to celebrate her birthday.

Sorry, but that's where the photos end.

a weekend in the country take two

last weekend we were invited back to the country for a second fitness weekend. for this one we were prepared, having a better idea of what was in store for us. we went armed with clothes for numerous hard workouts and a bag of food to help sustain us despite the terrible cafeteria food. poor Eric had injured his leg (he pulled a ligament) playing football/soccer earlier in the week, so he unfortunately would have to sit out for most of the activity. we met up with Eric, Lusha, Arthur, and the rest of the group at Eric's gym Friday evening around 11:00pm, and we set off after detouring a bit due to open bridges and a quick stop at a cafe for some java. we headed out of the city in the everlasting dusky summer light. These "White Nights" were our companion throughout our trip and we arrived around 2am in the same twilight as when we left 3 hours earlier.

2:30am


Sam and I settled in to our room and while Sam joined the others for drinks i opted for a hot shower, something i haven't been able to do at my own house for several weeks. It was wonderful and I was again reminded of how much i take the little things for granted. bedtime came around 3am and i dreaded the knock on the door the next morning which i knew would inevitably come at 8am sharp. This time however, Sam felt less inclined to drag himself out of bed for morning calisthenics, and i was perfectly happy to go along with that. instead we took our time getting up and getting ready and arrived bright-eyed and clean at breakfast at 9am. the same old bland food greeted us at breakfast, but we ate our fill, knowing that we'd need to have those carbs and calories in order to keep up with Max and Olga, the entirely too energetic fitness instructors. an hour of downtime for digesting later, we met outside in the field for exercise stations: elastic bands for squats, curls, biceps and triceps, abdominal crunches, yoga "plank" positions, push-ups...you name it, we did it. here's Max instructing us on what to do. (yes, you can literally SEE his muscles through his shirt. yikes.)



next was lunch, and after that, an awesome time off-road cycling through the countryside (and even a bit through the forest). this was definitely much more fun than the failed attempt at a scavenger hunt which took place in the afternoon of the first day last time. the scenery was beautiful and the weather absolutely perfect for a long ride. i don't know how many kilometers we rode that day, but we were gone for several hours - up and down hills, through mud and tall grass, past loggers and wide open fields with tall grass and wild flowers. lovely.

we refueled at dinner in the cafeteria like usual, but this time we had a plan. Eric and Max had gone into town and bought shaslik (shiskabobs) of pork, fresh vegetables, pickles and garlic, lavash, and of course alcohol (this is Russia, after all). we had some down time after the cafeteria dinner and people relaxed, showered or went to the pool (NOT ME!). Sam and I played ping pong and a game of billiards. so around 10pm we had our REAL dinner. Sam was drafted to do the grilling (he always loves a good Braai!) and we all gathered outside huddled around the fire enjoying wonderfully grilled shashlik and all the fixings. there was lots of chatting - Englilsh and Russian - good stories and tons of laughter. and the local dogs enjoyed our feast as much as we did - the scored some good handouts. i must note that all the shashlik were pork because that is all the local store had in stock. Lusha is Muslim and for her, eating pork is "haram" (a sin) and so she ate veggies and bread and had to forgo the shashlik, much to her disappointment. Arthur, who Lusha is not forcing to follow Muslim tradition was allowed to make his own choice. halfway through the evening he had been given a small chunk of pork and whether for a religious choice, or because he just didn't want it, he decided he wanted to give it to the dog, who was looking on. but before he gave it, he made sure to ask his mom, "is it a sin for a dog to eat pork?" such a thoughtful young guy. we assured him that it was ok, so the dog got a tasty treat.

the next day we enjoyed hitting the volleyball around before being beat into shape by Olga and her aerobic kickboxing class.

the second afternoon it was our turn to use the saunas. the enjoyment of sweating everything out together, followed by a dip in an icy jacuzzi is hard to explain, but it was again, the perfect close to a very active weekend.

no pool naxis, no crying, no utter confusion about trying to complete the smallest task...all in all, a very good second weekend in the country.

"The Pool Incident"

The “pool incident” must be recounted in its own post, to give it its rightful place as the most memorable moment of the “fitness” weekend in my mind. On Saturday evening our group had an assigned time for use of the pool, Jacuzzi and sauna. Sam and I headed down together and Courtney was planning to join us there. I wasn’t really intending to swim, but with pictures of typical American, European, and even African hotels and various pools in my mind, I assumed I could take a good book and sit by the pool watching Sam and the other swim, then after a while enjoy the jaqcuzzi and sauna. I convinced Courtney to do the same and we both packed a small bag with a towel and book, water bottle, etc. for indoor poolside enjoyment. We were escorted by Michael, a very kind man, who knew about 5 words in English and practiced using all of them, regardless of whether or not they made any sense in the situation. Michael showed us to the separate men’s and women’s “changing rooms” through which one had to enter the pool. I, who was already dressed for the pool, figured I would just walk through and out to a waiting chaise lounge, armed with my little bag of all the things I’d need for enjoying the pool. I quickly realized where I was when I was ushered into a bare room and two women speaking very commanding Russian explained I needed to wear a swimming cap.
Eta Rosseya. This. Is. Russia.
Did I have a swimming cap?
No.
She showed me a clear plastic shower cap she had with her at her little table - the only thing in this empty room.
Would I wear this then?
OK. Fine. I’ll wear the goofy-looking shower cap.
She ushered me into the changing room and explained that I needed to wear the pool shoes they provided me.
OK. Fine. Whatever.
Then she pointed and showed me the showers and I understood that I had to shower off and only after this then I would be granted entrance to the pool.
OK….
Now, up till this point I was understanding most of what was being said. There were enough words I recognized and enough hand motions that, together with logic and common sense, I could understand the instructions. But. Here’s where it gets tricky. I had a question. I didn’t want to leave my bag in one of their UNLOCKED lockers in the dressing room while I went into the pool area. Remember, my whole intention was to go sit by the pool and relax, reading, anyway and with my bag unsafely tucked away in a locker how was I going to do that? I tried to ask if I could take my bag inside the pool with me, via hand motions and the pertinent words I knew like, “Can I”, Bag” “Take”. Either my Russian is worse than I thought or she just decided that I had not understood all her prior instructions and she again told me I had to put my bag in the locker, shower, then go in the pool. We went back and forth like this a while, in the midst of which, Courtney arrived to find me semi-arguing with the lady, as I tried to explain that I understood everything else, but I didn’t want to leave my bag, so I needed to leave to take it back to my room. I slipped my own shoes back on and explained quickly to Courtney what I was going to do and I told her I’d take her bag upstairs too and be right back. The lady kept arguing and finally I just walked out the door with our bags, leaving Courtney there to fend for herself. But, I reasoned, I’d be right back, no worries. I was on the stairs when I realized I didn’t have the key for our room, because Sam, who was surely already in the pool, had it. I turned around and headed back down, at which time I ran into Michael, who was confused about why I wasn’t in the pool. (I later found out that Eric had asked him to look after us.) He used one or two of his 5 words and I tried to explain to him about my bag and needing the key. He nodded emphatically and was so kind I was sure he understood and could help me out, no problem. He led me downstairs and rather than turning right, towards the pool, he turned left and unlocked a small office-like room. Thinking he had understood my concern about the safety of our bags, I put down our bags and turned to head back out of the office. He motioned for me to stop, smiled kindly, and walked out, closing the door behind him. So now I am standing in a small office in the basement of some compound, upset from my unsuccessful arguing with the changing room lady, frustrated that after nearly two years in Russia I still can’t get my point across, completely bewildered and confused and I’m starting to worry.
All I want is the key to my room!
A few minutes passed and I started getting more upset, my eyes began to sting with tears. I took a deep breath and listened. Silence. Then I heard a noise in the hallway. It sounded like maybe Michael was standing out there. I went to the door and slowly opened it and there he was, looking at me, slightly confused. By this point, it’s been at least 10 minutes since I left Courtney, and I want nothing to do with the pool, but I still need the key. But I seem further and further from success in that area, and I am feeling pretty lousy because I can’t get anyone to understand me. The confused Michael is just looking at me, and I am trying to keep it together.
I need to find my husband! Moi muzh. (my husband) komnata. kluchey. (room. key.)
He still looks confused but at least he understands the words. He asks me if he’s here.
Yes. In the pool. Chorney. (black)
A moment of recognition from Michael.
Oh! Black! Yes.
Michael remembers Sam and starts quickly leading me back towards the pool. He seems happy that he has figured out the puzzle. And, to tell the truth, so am I.
I remember walking up the steps feeling so relieved. I was finally going to find Sam, get the key and be done with it. Michael led me back to the changing room door and I entered, as I saw him entering via the men’s changing room (they both led into the same empty room, then into the actual changing rooms section). Once in this little room, I foolishly thought I could simply walk up to the open door of the pool, look in, get Sam’s attention and that would be it. But! I forgot to factor in the “Eta Rosseya” factor. I no sooner took steps in the direction of the door, when the changing room Nazis (there were two now) pounced on me, YELLING at full voice. You would have thought that I had a fully load machine gun in my hand and I was about to let loose on all those unsuspecting swimmers. They both really let me have it. I jumped back and before I could even rationally stop it, I started crying right there in the stupid single-table, white tile room. Hearing the yelling, Michael quickly appeared in the doorway (apparently he had been searching the men’s side of the changing room for Sam). He looked over, saw me crying and looked at the changing room Nazis, said something to them, and they forcefully supported their very rational reaction to a woman striding so boldly right up to the door of their closely guarded pool. He said something else, then came over to me and asked, “What his name?”, and he went to look for Sam himself. Michael found him, sent him to the door and I was allowed to talk to him there. One of the Nazis, now looked very confused and apologetic, started trying to justify, very softly saying, “Aw…Ti ne ponimaesh…? Ya ne ponimayu.” (Aw…You don’t understand…? I don’t understand.) Eric, whom I caught a glimpse of over Sam’s shoulder, looked very worried and asked, “What’s wrong??”. Sam would explain later. Sam went to get me the key which I gratefully pocketed and quickly ran away with, away from the pool, up the stairs, and into our room, where I contemplated how much language barriers suck.

A Weekend in the Country 1

The month of May was full activity and adventure, to be sure, but nothing stands out in my mind quite like our “weekend in the country”. Let me explain. The second weekend in May celebrates one of the many holidays in Russia between May and June. The a fore-mentioned holiday is May 9th (V.E. Day as celebrated in Russia, whereas in the U.S. it was May 8th - the victory in WWII was announced past midnight, making it the next day here). The 9th fell on a Saturday this year, and Monday of the following week was given as a public holiday making a long weekend. Of and course, I’m sure it’s quite an international tradition that on long weekends, people take trips. Eric brought up the weekend in question and gave us an invitation to join a group of people from his gym for a weekend of, “sport in the fresh air” outside the city. From his vague explanation, Sam, Courtney, and I conjured up images of campfires and forests and some organized sports perhaps, like football or maybe some group games. We accepted, being good little adventurers, since we still had no real idea of where we were going or exactly what we were signing up for. It was agreed that we would leave the city Friday evening around 8:00pm to hopefully miss the rush of traffic leaving St. Petersburg. I sent him an sms a day or so before our trip to ask what we should take with us. His response was, “Take clothes for sport, for swimming and party.” At 7:00 on Friday evening, I received the fist of a series of text messages from Eric: “We’ll be there at 9:00 instead” along with several others that of course blamed their tardiness on Lusha’s over-abundant packing. Around 9:30 Eric arrived and we threw our bags in the back of the already very full hatch of the SUV. Lusha and her friend Olga we driving in one vehicle and Eric, Sam, Courtney, myself, and Arthur (Lusha’s son) were in the other. It turns out that we weren’t the only ones who were not exactly sure where we were going for the weekend. Eric, himself, had only spotty directions and after a number of false starts, a few U turns, and pit stops for direction-asking, we were more or less on our way. The first hour or so, we sailed along the highway, but of course on a weekend (and particularly a LONG weekend) the traffic leaving the city is horrendous. But we amused ourselves with a radio mix of classic rock and early 90’s music, language-themed conversation, and general banter. And low and behold: about 3 hours, several more U turns, and a few phone calls later, we found the place. In Russian this kind of place is called a “baza” (“base”). It’s kind of like a compound, in this case for recreation. It’s like a cross between a motel and a dormitory. It was late, so we dragged our stuff inside, got a quick run-down of when breakfast was served in the cafeteria (between 9-10am), acquired our keys and got settled in to our rooms. Eric mentioned something like, “there might be some morning exercises before breakfast…around 8am” to which we all, including Eric, sort of laughed at with a “yeah, right” sort of attitude. Well. Being the obedient, young over-achievers that we are…ok, well…that Sam is, we planned to get up at 7:45am to be ready for the 8am exercises. Yippee. I woke up a little early and decided to get up and maybe even grab a quick shower to wake up before these calisthenics. And just as I was about to jump in the shower, there was a knock at our door (this was around 5mins till 8) and Sam answered to find one of the fitness instructors who told him it was time for morning exercises. I passed on the shower and went to get dressed. Sam and I got ready quickly and were locking our door 10 mins later. We went to the lobby, but didn’t find anyone from our group there. We walked outside, but no group. We wandered around a little bit looking for them and finally gave up. Sam decided he’d go for a short jog and so I decided to walk in the same direction. He was farther down the road then I when we called to me and said he had found them. I jogged down the hill and arrived just in time to join a circle of people introducing themselves, congratulating one another and calling it quits. We were dismissed and told that anyone who was late the next morning would be doing 20 push-ups. We were instructed to eat breakfast and re-convene afterwards. I was not exactly a happy-camper, having gotten up early only to have no clue where anyone was, then finally finding them, only to have missed the whole thing anyway. (Courtney, I must mention, didn’t even bother with it. We saw her at breakfast about 30 minutes later. I think she had the right idea.) The food was pretty terrible. Buffet-style, but with a choice either very bland or very greasy. Not exactly what you’re looking for when you’re unknowingly about to be beaten to a pulp for two days by two very energetic fitness instructors. After breakfast there was 1km to run, through the woods. And of the lead runner apparently had no idea that the entire group wouldn’t be able to keep pace with the front runners, and therefore a number of us lucky people got lost in the woods for a while. But we eventually found our way and ended up in the field with everybody else. (I must mention that when I arrived in the field Sam wasn’t there, and I correctly deduced that he had gone back to look for us. So yeah, minus one point for leaving me in the woods, but score one point for extra running to look for me afterward. ) For the next 2 hours, we did intervals or a large variety of exercises and numerous “stations” – squats, exercise bands, medicine ball lifts, yoga positions, chin ups, push ups, pull ups, etc, etc, etc, while the way too happy instructors counted out the time and either encouraged or taunted us…and probably both. Let me say this, having someone verbally explain an exercise to you in a language you only partly understand doesn’t do a lot of good. Visualization, much better. Another crappy meal and then a hour for rest, then we were back out in the field, but this time it was some kind of scavenger hunt. The rules were never really explained to us (those of us, non-Russians) and we never split into groups or anything, so we just wandered at the back trying to figure out what was going on. This activity was thankfully short-lived due to cheap compasses, no teamwork, and the fact that the sky got really dark and let loose with a heavy downpour. Saved by the rain. The rest of the weekend was similar – bad food, and more grueling exercises, but this time in the form of aerobic kick-boxing. Which totally kicked my butt, but I still really enjoyed it. Maybe because I could actually keep on rhythm and quickly figure out the movements, whereas a lot of people couldn’t quite catch on. It was led by the female fitness instructor, so the male instructor was out in the crowd and happened to be next to me and he was looking pretty much like a 13 year old white boy trying to dance. Not pretty. Also we played some indoor volleyball, which was really fun until two random guys joined and made it not fun anymore – the kind of guys that assumed our team was losing because our team had two women and the other had none. Whatever. I didn’t take any photos of the brutal workouts, because I was too busy being reminded how out of shape I was. But I do have some nice pics of the forest, the lake, and the lovely tea breaks that we had thanks to Lusha’s preparedness. Her “over-abundant packing” included a coal samovar and actual tea cups. Courtney said it well when she said, “Only Lusha would bring fine china on what is practically a camping trip.” Always the good hostess, she even had chocolates to go with the tea. The last thing of note from this weekend is what shall henceforth be dubbed, “the pool incident”…may it live in infamy.

photos from the weekend. place your cursor over a photo for its caption.

May has come and gone

Wow. last month was a blur. a good blur. a blur with friends and coffee. a blur with busy-ness and sightseeing. a blur with sunshine and new places. laughter and sharing life. filled with photos and stories. and bereft of time to post about them. and now its June.

Courtney arrived the day before International Labor Day, which was completely intentional on our part, as it mean that Eric, Sam and I would immediately have 3 whole days off work to show her around and help her adjust. Day 1 consisted of coffee, a leisurely day spent wandering the city center and a boat trip through the canals. Day 2 consisted of coffee, a guided tour through the city with an English-speaking guide, a complete overload of information, Mexican food, and lots of photos. Many of which i will leave you to enjoy here:

more to come...