Holiday On Monday

Monday was a holiday here in Karaganda, transferred from Sunday, just like we do in Canada. It was actually a double holiday.

 

First, Sunday was Constitution Day, celebrating the anniversary of the constitution of the Republic of Kazakhstan, adopted on August 30 in 1995. There were big fireworks over the lake in the main city park. We could even hear the crowd's cheering and ooh's and ah's from our apartment, a few kilometres away. Large banners are strung throughout the city, proclaiming Constitution Day and encouraging pride in the constitution.

 

Secondly, Sunday was also Mine Workers' Day, celebrating the contributions of miners to the development of Kazkahstan's economy. Billboards sprung up overnight with messages thanking miners and depicting them as the foundation on which the country is built. Coal mining and the steel industry are very important in the Karaganda region. There are many coal mines surrounding the city and a very large steel mill in a town called Temirtau, about 40 kilometres away. We visited Temirtau on our trip to Astana. The operation is run by Arcelor Mittal, a well-known Indian steel manufacturer. They own some steel mills in Canada as well. It was interesting to note that Mittal meets the environmental regulations specific to each country. The air in Temirtau was a very pretty shade of yellow.

 

As a result of these holidays, banks, business offices, and government offices were closed yesterday. Stores were open, however, and the transit system seemed to be running at regular capacity for a Monday.    

And So it Goes...

We're finding that looking after Alexey 24/7 is a little different from looking after him 2 hours at a time. There's lots of food preparation and thinking about schedules. For now, we are attempting to stick to Alexey's schedule from the Baby Home in order to minimize disruption, since we've already changed so much that he knows.

• 6 AM: Feeding of formula. zzzzzz.
• 8 AM: Nap.
• 10 AM: Feeding of porridge with some fruity baby food thrown in and some water or watery juice.
• 12 PM: Nap.
• 2:00 PM: Feeding of porridge with some fruity baby food and some pureed vegetable soup. The soup is an addition we've made. Also, something to drink.
• 4 PM: Nap. Theoretically.
• 6 PM: Porridge again with fruity baby food and soup. And a drink.
• 8 PM: Pre-bedtime nap. An absolute requirement. He's unconscious at 8:01.
• 10 PM: Another feeding of formula during which almost nobody is awake. Then bedtime.

Overall, Saturday went swimmingly here. Alexey was a champion. No crying. Took his naps. Slept through the night. No night terrors, which are a very real possibility for children adopted from orphanages. Laughs and giggles all 'round. It was like he was on vacation from the Baby Home.

On Sunday, there were a couple of major tantrums. Alexey kept us in sight at all times. If we disappeared from sight for more than one millisecond, he took immediate disciplinary action. He took naps reluctantly, if at all. He sobbed in despair at every meal. He cried at diaper change time too. He wouldn't drink water. And we were reviewed for our suitability as parents every few minutes. There was the dropping game, the rules consistency test, and the divide and conquer strategy. And yet, there were laughs and giggles when we were playing together.

A very interesting study in contrasts.

A Mockup

According to the rules and procedures regarding the adoption of children here, a child can only come into the care of adoptive parents once the fifteen-day appeal period of the court ruling has taken place. A violation of those rules is not welcomed by the Karaganda Department of Education.

So the rumour that Alexey began living with us today (Saturday) in our apartment is obviously not true. We are working assiduously on a mockup in PhotoShop to show him sleeping in a crib in our apartment. Sort of an artist's concept. We will post it soon.

To the Future and Back

We went to Astana, the capital of Kazakhstan, on Friday. We travelled in a van with a couple from France whom we met at the Baby Home, our local coordinator and translator, her prospective adoptive daughter, and a driver. The distance from Karaganda to Astana is just over 200 km. But it's very difficult to do the trip in less than three hours. That's because the quickly changes from a 4-lane divided highway to a 2-lane undivided highway and you sometimes get stuck behind heavy trucks; old trucks; and heavy, old trucks. That being said, the condition of the highway is very good. Much better than parts of highway 401 in Ontario or highway 40 in Quebec. Many times better than the roads in Cape Breton (sorry, folks).

You also run across (fortunately, not literally) the odd cow or horse standing right beside the highway, so you have to be careful. As well, there are many roads that just enter the highway without any off-ramps or on-ramps. Like the Trans-Canada highway through New Brunswick used to be. The terrain is very flat. Almost all of it is steppes. Like the Canadian prairies, but a bit more desolate.

On the way to Astana, we had lunch in a traditional Russian-style tavern on the side of the road. Seven of us had a fairly substantial meal, including tea all 'round, for less than $40. Tea is served either as chai z maloko or chai z limon. (Pronounce them as written, even with the "z".) The first is with milk already added into the teapot. Sort of like cafe au lait. The second is with lemon in the teapot.

On arrival in Astana, we saw that the city is divided into two parts, physically and architecturally. The part on the East side of the river is in the Soviet style. There are old wartime houses there, really shacks, hastily built when many people fled the advancing German armies in the West. There are also very square apartment buildings, built in a hurry in the post-war period, right up until the end of the Soviet era.

The part of the city on the West side of the river is all new. When they made Astana the capital, they decided to put almost all of the government buildings and foreign embassies there. Fifteen years ago, there was nothing there except steppes. Now, even the French family said that some of the architecture and plan rivals that of Paris. Companies built offices and developers built shopping centres and apartments. The architecture is very modern, even futuristic, but not ridiculously so. We will post some pictures when we get an opportunity. Fans of architecture should definitely research Astana more. It rivals Kuala Lumpur in Malaysia and the cities in some of the emirate countries in the Middle East for futurism.

On the way back, we ate in a yurt, a round tent-like structure traditionally carried on the side of camels by Kazakh nomadic animal-herders. You sit on the floor on cushions around circular tables. Traditionally, you sit in a place assigned by your status. The table farthest away from the door is reserved for the highest ranking men, with the honoured guest or head of the household seated farthest away from the door. At the table to the right of the honoured guest sit the highest ranking women. Then the other tables decrease in rank as you move counter-clockwise around the yurt until you finally have the youngest children sitting together. We all ate at the same table, though. We had a traditional Kazakh meal of shashlik, sort of a meat-only shish kebab. You can have mutton, beef, or chicken. The meat is cut into pieces as is, bones, fat, and all. It's marinated for up to 6 hours. The marinade can be made of yogurt and lemon, or sometimes just lemon with water, and various spices. Then it is cooked directly on a fire on metal spits that are about 50 cm long. When all is cooked, the spits are then brought to your table. You have the choice of taking the meat off the spit with a fork or your hands and putting it on your plate. Or you can eat the meat directly off the spit. Remember, the bones are still there. The meal came with tomato and cucumber, along with fresh bread. And of course, more tea.

We also shared a bowl of kumiss. That's a traditional Kazakh drink. It is fermented mare's milk, with little bits of a specific grass added for additional flavour. Kumiss is quite thin and sour-tasting, with a hint of smokiness, like some cheeses. Everybody tried it and were surprised to find that it is fairly drinkable. You can buy it in the grocery stores here.

Altogether a very intriguing day. Our curiosity satisfied about Astana and yurts and horse's milk, we returned to Karaganda.

So What Does It All Mean?

A few people have asked what our court judgement means. Our adoption of Alexey takes effect in fifteen days. That allows for a period in which the judgement can be appealed, either by Alexey's birth family or someone else with an interest. The likelihood of that happening is minimal.

After fifteen days, we can get Alexey's birth certificate reissued, a Kazakhstani passport, Canadian citizenship, a Canadian passport, and a Kazakhstani exit visa. Piece of cake.

Then we can come home.

A Capital Experience

The President of Kazakhstan, Nursultan Nazarbaev, was in town yesterday and today. We waved to him when he drove by on the street. We're sure he waved back. At 80 km/hr. In a 14-car motorcade. In a car with blackened windows. As a matter of fact, his motorcade went past a few times today, accompanied by lots of security, including many men in suits with bulges in their jackets. Many uniformed city police also were in evidence blowing whistles as efficiently as they could. Not whistle-blowing squealers, but actually blowing whistles to control traffic.

Speaking of the President, tomorrow, Friday, we're going on a sightseeing trip to Astana (Астана, in Kazakh and Russian), the new capital of Kazakhstan. Astana means "capital" in Kazakh. Montreal, Toronto, and Kingston lost the opportunity to be the capital of Canada way back in the mid-1800's. Almaty, the largest city, lost the capital to the town of Akmola in 1997, which was then renamed to Astana in 1998. Astana is now experiencing a major boom in construction. Many of the buildings are quite futuristic. Some look like they come from The Jetsons cartoon show. The trip should be camera-worthy.

A New View

Here are some more photos of Alexey.

Alexey and Mama admiring each other.

Alexey in his crib in his group's sleeping room.

Time for a nap in a the sidewards downward dog position.

Post-Court Report

So we had our court hearing today. We started at 9:30. Everything went really well. It took about 30 minutes. We made a short presentation of our case for adoption, the doctor from the Baby Home said a few words about Alexey, and the social worker talked about us. Our lawyer basically said that we made a good case and had nothing to add.

The lawyer representing the government also said that we made a good case and would therefore not oppose the application. The judge agreed and granted the adoption, to take effect fifteen days from tomorrow. So, we're parents!

The Times They Are A'changin

The time of our court hearing was moved up today. It will now be at 9:00 AM on Wednesday. That's 11:00 PM on Tuesday for those back at home. So, no sleeping in tomorrow. We need to be ready to go at 8:30.

The high today here was 28 degrees, but the expected high for tomorrow is only 22 degrees. So John's grey woolen suit won't cause too much heat prostration. When we went to the judge's office on Monday, it was 31 degrees, a tad warm for a woolen suit.

More news as it develops.

Post-Pre-Court Wrapup

This afternoon, we had our Pre-Court meeting with the judge, Alexey's doctor from the Baby Home, our lawyer, and our translator. The purpose of the meeting was to verify that all of our documents are correct, that we are who our passports say we are, and to verify the legitimacy of the doctor and our translator.

The judge is roughly equivalent to a Provincial Court Justice in Ontario. We met in her office for about fifteen minutes. Our only responsibilities were to hand over our passports and to say "Yes" when asked if we wished to proceed with the adoption of Alexey.

Our heavier duties come during our court hearing on Wednesday at 3:00 PM, (5:00 AM EDT). That's when we must make a presentation about why and how we can adopt Alexey.

So another hurdle has been jumped.

Tomorrow, we will post some more photos. We tried to do that yesterday afternoon at the Internet cafe, but Blogger was down for maintenance. Then we tried to be brave and post one from our apartment in the evening. We gave up after twenty minutes for one photo. That's due to us using dial-up Internet access. By the way, that's how you accessed the Internet in the dark ages, just like in parts of Kemptville today. ;-)    

Fragility

The children at the Baby Home are split up into separate groups and rooms based on age and developmental level. The higher the number, the older the group. Alexey is in Group 5.

This afternoon (Saturday in Karaganda), the nurse on duty in Group 4 was called to Group 2. A little baby who has been in the Baby Home for only two weeks was having a heart attack.

The nurse administered CPR and successfully resuscitated the baby.

Our thoughts and prayers are given for the baby. And our thanks are given for the gifts of the nurse from Group 4.

Getting Around in Karaganda

Local public transportation in Karaganda is somewhat different than back at home in Canada.

One way of getting around is by taking a taxi. You can call a cab company and they'll send one to your location, just like at home. You agree on a price on the telephone. The usual price for going anywhere in the city is 350 to 400 tenges. That's about $2.50 to $3.00.

You can also flag down a cab on the street. You negotiate the price when you get in the car. These cabs are usually about 50 tenges cheaper than those that you call.

There are two types of bus. One is the usual kind of bus like you see on the street in most major cities. Most of them here are made by a company called Setra. They're operated by the Akimat (city or mayoralty) of Karaganda. The other type of bus is a marschrutka: what we would call a minibus. They're privately owned and operated. No matter what kind of bus you take, the price is the same: 30 tenges during the day, 50 tenges after 9:00 PM. The fare on both types of bus is collected by a conductor like we used to have years ago on streetcars in Canada. The conductor walks up and down the bus, collects fares and gives change, and maintains law and order. If an old person, a young child or a pregnant woman gets on a bus, woe befalls he or she who doesn't yield their seat.

The marschrutkas provide a unique travel experience. They have about ten to fifteen seats. But you often find twenty or more people on them. Personal space is definitely at a premium. The radio is usually playing quite loudly, often Russian or Kazakh pop music. Some of the marschrutkas are fairly old and have not had the benefit of a pollution control check since they left the factory. Some have Plexiglas replacing broken windows. Or sometimes the type of clear plastic like you get in a tent trailer. They must be a bit drafty in the winter. The marschrutkas have two main benefits, though. One is that you do get to your destination very quickly. Many drivers are apparently ex-Formula One racecar drivers. They go very fast because they want to pick up as many passengers as possible. They want to beat other marschrutkas and the city buses to the next stop, in order to make more money. Some are former members of the brass section of the Karaganda City Orchestra, because they are expert horn players. The second benefit is that there seems to be an unlimited number of marschrutkas. So you rarely have to wait more than five minutes before your bus comes. Albeit sometimes in a cloud of smoke.

You do need to be alert when taking your bus, though. The city buses are all numbered in the normal way. But the marschrutkas' numbers begin with zero. So the route of a number 1 bus is not the same as that of a number 01 marschrutka.

In the main downtown area there are also trolley buses, like they have in Toronto. Not streetcars, though. Buses with pantographs. (Had to say that. How often do you get to use the word "pantograph" in a lifetime?) These trolley buses are mostly relics of the Soviet era. One might argue that some are veterans of the Great Patriotic War, the Soviet name for the Second World War. Some are quite modern, though. Newer than those in Toronto, anyway. And you only pay 25 tenges for a ride.

Another way of getting around is to hitchhike, but to pay for the ride. You just stick your arm out perpendicular to the ground and wave it sideways to parallel. If you don't like the look of the car or driver, you just wave it on, and nobody takes offence. If you do get into the car, you negotiate a price for your destination. Many people use this method of transportation to move about. We haven't been brave enough to try it, though; our local bus stop is served by three different bus routes.

So there are many ways you can quickly and cheaply get to where you want to go in Karaganda.

Technical Progress

Tuesday night we got a telephone call. "We have dates for you," said the voice on the other end. Ah ha! The information we've been waiting for.

The voice gave us the dates of the next important technical steps in our adoption journey. We learned that we would meet social workers on Wednesday morning (today) and our lawyer in the afternoon.

Despite the time that Blogger adds to our posts, the real time here in Karaganda is coming up on 9:00 PM on Wednesday. So both of those meetings have already happened.

The social workers asked some fairly straightforward questions. They asked about our finances. They asked why we want to adopt a child from Kazakhstan. They asked what our child care arrangements will be. They asked if we have any relatives who are in need of an organ donor. They asked what our professions are.

"Whoa!" you say. "They asked about organ donations?" Yes, they did. They're trying to preclude the possibility that we are adopting Alexey for the purposes of harvesting his organs. A minute part of the international adoption world is that some sons of, er, unsavoury characters are attempting to create a supply side for the organ transplant market. (I can't believe that I'm writing this.)

Enough said about the visit to the social workers.

This afternoon, we met with our lawyer. He gave us information about the court process we will follow. We first have a pre-court hearing in front of the judge in her office on Monday afternoon. The main purpose of that meeting is to ensure that all of the documentation is ready for our court hearing, which will be held on Wednesday afternoon.

Our lawyer also told us that we have to give a presentation in court. For example, why we are adopting. Why we are adopting in Kazakhstan. Why we are adopting Alexey. What our ability is to provide financially for him. How we will ensure that he receives health care. What child care arrangements we will have. How Alexey will be looked after if we both pass away. And so on. And all of this in less than 15 minutes, including sequential translation. That is, not simultaneous.

And thus our careers as advocates in the Kazakhstani court system begin. On the bright side, we do have enough time to make our presentations short. Our technical writing friends will understand what that means.

Then the judge and, as our translator so charmingly put it, the state persecutors (prosecutors, we hope she meant) will ask us questions. Our lawyer said that some hearings are as short as 20 or 30 minutes. Others may last up to 90 minutes, or even more. Most of which time is taken up with questions. But nobody expects the Kazakhstani Inquisition. (Sorry.)

More news as it develops. Watch Court TV on Wednesday. We're sure we'll be on.

Bon Appetit from Karaganda

We promised that we would write a little about the food we've been eating and what you can buy in the grocery store in Karaganda. We've been blessed with having a wonderful cook preparing food for lunch and dinner everyday for us in the apartment. We've had a few Kazakh dishes such as verenki which are similar to pierogis but a little smaller. They can also be stuffed with meat or potatoes or with other stuffing; lots of varieties available in the frozen section of the grocery store.

Another Kazakh dish is "Plov" which is a rice dish with meat, seasoned nicely and at times with added raisins and prunes. This goes nicely with a meat and carrot salad that we've eaten a few times including in the fast food section of TSUM, the large department store downtown.
The most common Kazakh dish that you will find everywhere are small stuffed meat pies, usually with some diced potato and onion added in. One of these pies is enough to fill you up for lunch.

Our cook makes very large portions so no doubt I will have gained quite a few pounds during our stay here. Lunch starts off with some homemade soup, usually made on chicken broth. Potatoes, carrots and dill are ingredients in all soups and in many other dishes as well since the variety of vegetables is limited here. I can't imagine what it's like in winter if it's this limited in the summer months!

Blinis are quite popular as well. They're thin crepes filled with cottage cheese, or meat, or jam (similar to blintzes). We are definitely requesting these again!

Being Polish, I've had the pleasure of having pickled herring a few times for lunch, there are many many varieties of these in the grocery store. I can't really say that John loves herring like I do; he will eat some but not 3 days in a row like myself.

A lot of main dishes are comprised of some kind of meat (chicken or beef) and either rice, pasta, or potatoes. All are flavoured nicely. We have not seen any lettuce at all, I don't think they grow it here. We will have salads made from cabbage, carrots, tomatoes and cucumbers. A known Kazakh appetizer is sliced tomato, topped up with a light version mayo with lots of garlic, and grated cheese.

Grocery stores are quite interesting to wander around in. There's a large section of dried fish and herring; we have not seen any fresh fish as we're surrounded by steppes. All kinds of sausages fill up a large deli section and there is a butcher that has an interesting selection of meats that we don't ask about.

We have not yet been brave enough to try the horse or camel milk that they sell in the dairy section but we cannot leave Kazakhstan without trying it...Maybe we will find some chocolate flavour camel milk to try ??

They do have chips with different flavours such as beef, crab, mushroom, to each his own...

Another aisle in the grocery store is dedicated to wine and liquor. Lots of different kinds of vodka, some local for around $5 and other well known brands for the same price as back home. There is not a great choice of good quality wine. It's either very cheap or very expensive.

Overall we're eating very well, and we're thankful that we don't have to shop and prepare our meals, and rather focus on our visits with Alexey.

Monika

Car Buffs' Dream

If you are a car buff, Karaganda is the place to be. So far, we have spotted various models of:

• Audis
• BMWs
• Chevrolets
• Ladas (both really old and quite new)
• Mercedes
• Mitsubishis
• Trabants (former East German cars made of cardboard, with sewing machine motors)
• Toyotas (including Camrys, Corollas, Pradas, and others, some right-hand drive)
• Zils (old Russian "luxury" cars)

The thing we notice is that, just like in the stores, there are really two classes of cars around. The older, less expensive class consists of Ladas and Trabants, along with the Zils. Most of the old cars are Ladas with weird names consisting of letters and numbers, like a B406D (or something like that, the letters are in Cyrillic).

Many of the new cars are quite snappy. Those trying to show off their conspicuous consumption drive in Toyota Prada or Mercedes SUVs. The most common model of new car seems to be Mitsubishi, with many regular cars as well as SUVs. Every taxi we've taken has been either an Audi or a Mercedes, likely because they are quite well built.

We are trying to take pictures of models of cars and trucks that we don't see at home. We'll try to post a few of the more interesting ones.

We'll also post about the intriguing bus system in Karaganda. The price is right, at 30 tenge per trip. That's about 22 cents.

Teeth, Owwww!

Alexey has been holding the side of his head the last few days. We thought that he was getting a sinus infection or an earache, just like most of the other children at the Baby Home. But then he started to keep one or more fingers in his mouth most of the time. Not his thumb, not sucking. Just pushing at his gums.

Ah. Teeth must be coming in. Suddenly it all makes sense. The last two days or so, every feeding has become a session filled with angst and drama. Eating hurts. Alexey proves that his lungs operate at full capacity. Mom and dad pace the floor with him, still trying to get the food into his mouth. Alexey screams with every second bite, expelling half the food he just took in. All in all each meal is now a charming dining experience. The makers of Tide are appreciative of his efforts, though.

Photos and Progress

Alexey has progressed quite nicely in the two weeks that we've been here in Karaganda. He's learned to pull himself up to a standing position and now often greets us standing up in his crib when we arrive. He busily imitates many of our gestures and even babbles back to us when we babble, er, talk, to him. He watches incredulously when we sing to him.

Alexey is in an exploring stage right now. He crawls around at a great clip, aiming persistently for any open door in his sight. He watches everything that happens around him very intently.

He wants to play with our glasses, with long hair (ouch!), and with any toy not currently in his possession. In other words, a typical 11 month old.

The Not-Quite-Biblical Flood

It's been a few days since we posted. Lots of activity intervened. But we're still alive and weren't kidnapped by the Kazakh Mafia or anything.

One of the things that kept us busy was our apartment. In retribution for our posting about the water, our apartment building decided this week to try to fill up our kitchen with another fluid that's not quite as clear as water. Twice.

The first time, after supper, we suddenly heard water gurgling in the kitchen. We went in to check and saw that the sink was slowly filling up from the bottom. We decided to wait to see what would happen. Soon we had to bail out the sink with a bucket and then wipe up a little trickle of water that was coming out of the pipe that attaches the washing machine to the kitchen drain line.

The plumbers came the next day and used a snake to clear out our drain and the drain of the apartment below us. They also banged around with the pipes and took some of them apart and put them back together. They were here for about three or four hours all told.

At supper time, the neighbour from upstairs came down and asked us if the water was all right to use. We said that the water was fine.

Two hours later, we heard a great belching sound from the kitchen. We raced in to find the sink filling up at a high rate with what looked like oil. Then the washing machine drain started spouting the same oil. My first thought was that we were gonna be rich! But then I realized that this stuff didn't smell like oil. And it was hot. Litres and litres of hot sewage pouring into the sink and onto the floor. We got buckets and established a two-person bucket brigade from the kitchen to the bath tub.

While bailing, we immediately called our housekeeper who lives in the same apartment block. She arrived just in time to get shouted at by our downstairs neighbour. He not only had sewage coming out of his sink, but also from the ceiling. She shouted back at him and they got into a fine row. Finally she got him to understand that our apartment was not the source of the deluge, but the apartment above ours. So they both ran up the stairs and shouted at the woman who lives there. She was running her washing machine. So thirty or forty litres of very hot soapy water had been forcibly pumped down a drain that was apparently still partially blocked, thus dislodging old bits of grease and other delectables and shooting the whole works back up the drain pipe as a gooey mess.

The end of the story came the next day, when the plumbers came back, hammered and banged, cleaned the pipes out again, and tested once more. Everything is fine now, we're sure. But we haven't heard anyone use their washing machine since. Nobody wants to be the next guilty party.

Soon we will post details about the food. But we need to let our stomachs settle first.

Take care, everyone!

John

Living in Kazakhstan

We live in an apartment on the fourth storey of a five-storey building. That building forms one side of a square of apartment buildings with a courtyard that includes a playground. We have a few stores on the street side of the square. The architecture is typical of Karaganda and isn't what you see in Canada. There are many entrances to each building. Each entrance has its own staircase leading to two apartments on each floor. There are no hallways that allow you to get to other apartments in another staircase. Instead, you have to go downstairs, walk to the appropriate entrance, and walk back upstairs. There are no elevators and no other exits, except for the windows.

Our apartment has a main entrance foyer, a kitchen/dining/living room, a toilet room (but no sink), a bathroom with a sink and bathtub (but no toilet), and two bedrooms. It has windows in the front and the back, with views into the courtyard and into the construction site behind us respectively. It has two balconies that have been modified by the owner through the addition of wooden enclosures with windows in order to enlarge the living space. That is typical of apartments here. The builder of a new apartment building just up the street recognized that everybody does this, so glassed in the balconies from the beginning.

The water situation is... intriguing. On good days, we have hot and cold water. Some days, only hot. Other days, only cold. On one memorable day, no water at all for twelve hours. Then it came back on. Bright red. Then brown, with sediment. For four hours or so. It looked like a scene from CSI. That day, we washed the dishes and our faces with boiled water from our drinking water supply, a 20 Litre water bottle. Nobody drinks the tap water here: everybody uses bottled water. When it's available, the hot water has the same pressure as, say, Old Faithful. The cold water has the same pressure as, well, a vinegar bottle. You know, the glass kind with the metal top. This makes it interesting when you want to take a shower. The choices are either "boiled lobster" or "none". Our washing machine takes in cold water and heats it up to the temperature that you select. It doesn't move to the next function (wash, rinse, spin) until the correct amount of water has been added. We did a load of washing last night, starting at 8:00 PM to take advantage of the increased water pressure after the suppertime rush. It didn't finish until after Midnight.

Soon we'll blog about some of the Kazakh and Russian food we've had. Our cooks have all been very good.

A Picture Is Worth... You Know the Rest

Say Hello to Alexey: