twenty-something years of "what have you been up to?"

Author: place2place

  • putting the evacuation in vacation

    The Moscow Times reports that carbon monoxide levels are 30% above normal, hydrocarbons 5.4 times above the maximum permissible levels, nuclear sites completely surrounded by fires, but the nuclear materials have been removed.

    You think that's bad? I have paperwork to do now! I have no idea where to begin to 1. Change our status after R&R to evacuated 2. Arrange air shipment of items sent back to Moscow. I need to schedule it now or it won't happen–they usually need a four week lead time. 3. Reschedule our Friday plane ticket for when? 

    This refugee business would be a lot more enjoyable if I'd been assigned a personal admin assistant.  

    Peter is boarding a plane for Moscow right now. Enjoy that clean, fresh economy cabin air, babe!

    Should be interesting to hear what he says when his Clarks hit the ground. "Fire in the hole!" maybe? Ugh, I really can't stand it that he has to go back there. He assures me that if it gets bad, everyone from the Ambassador on down, including my darling, will be sent home. "Remember Chad?" says Peter, reminding me of when the country to the east of Niger was on authorized departure. The FSHP (Peter's position) and the Ambassador worked out of the airport the last day, using cardboard boxes as desks, but even they were finally evacuated.

  • mi vida loca

    Watsonville murals lavidaloca

    I've been running in Gina's neighborhood and I adore the house with murals painted on the fence all the way around. Yesterday, I was heartbroken–they'd been whitewashed over!

    Embassy Moscow has officially put us on Authorized Departure status, so we have been evacuated. We were already having R&R at our evacuation point so that made that part easy. We aren't allowed to go back now for 30 days, at which point the US State Department will decide if the hazardous levels of air pollution and threat of fires hitting nuclear centers are at acceptable levels for American families and non-essential personnel to return. 

    Peter, however, is essential personal, he's one of the people they want there deciding on the health risks of being there. He will be going back as soon as he gets things situated. I don't mind an extra couple weeks in the States beyond our R&R, the start date at the American school has been postponed and I'm glad we don't have to head back before school opens. But I don't like it AT ALL that Peter has to go back to the fires and bad air and who the heck even knows WHAT'S going on in that country?

    A friend called Aeroflot to look into having her flight back to Moscow changed and the person on the phone said, "Problem in Moscow? There is no problem in Moscow." The Russians don't really do murals, but there's no shortage of whitewash.

  • many things unclear, especially the air in moscow

    Redsquare 

    Photo from themoscowtimes.com

    An article in Rianovsky, an English language Russian newspaper, reports that 700 people a day are dying in Moscow and ambulances are working under war-time conditions. Russian hospitals are filled to capacity, with no AC. The head of the Russian weather service, judging by historical records, calls the eight weeks of 100 degree plus days the hottest weather in 1000 years. The heat is triggering peat bogs around the city to spontaneously combust, filling the air with poisonous smoke. Firefighting crews are overwhelmed–52 firefighters have died–and the military has been called in to battle fires near nuclear sites.

    Our friend Aleen, whose next post is China, is the first person ever who can't wait to get to her next post so she can breathe the cool, clean refreshing air of…Beijing.

    The forest fires and sustained high heat are causing carbon monoxide levels in the city to be seven times the safe levels. My last official note from the Embassy informed us that "Authorized Departure" status –State-ese for evacuation–was not being considered, and that if you haven't stopped smoking, now is a good time to quit.

    We are lucky, our renters moved out of our place in Portland, so we happen to have an empty house (wanna buy it?) and if we can figure out how to get a couple beds in and some pots and pans and dishes, and oh yeah, the internet, we'd be fine waiting for the noxious smoke to clear.

    I think as soon as it cools off in Moscow, which has to be around the corner–remember last year in September Stefan needed his coat?–things will improve. I wish they'd call the departure, I'm dreading the damage to my kids' lungs–they didn't ask for travel-bug parents. My heart goes out to friends and family who don't have options, co-workers who have been sticking it out, and the people of Moscow, where Aleen says a 10-minute walk to the grocery store is out of the question.

  • band t-shirt here

    I can't believe my favorite band from Niger, or the only band I know from Niger, but they are really, really good, so good I used their music for an official video I made about Niger, are playing in Santa Cruz in a few days. Crazy.

    About a year ago I was riding around with my 20-something year-old niece and liked a song she had playing in her car. It was by Huckleberry Flint, a band from Humboldt County–squee! I immediately downloaded their CD based on the terrific song Wagon Wheel, which ended up being the best song on the CD, but I don't care, because I like supporting a band from Humboldt Country. Yesterday Camille and I were in Urban Outfitters and they had Wagon Wheel on their playlist. So if you don't believe me, believe Urban Outfitters, you need to download that song now.

  • wearing my peace sign t-shirt

    Sunset Beach

    Seaweed.JPG  

    I'm still waiting for United to repay my mistakingly upgraded airfare–we are on Day 16 now United! Where is my refund? But we are home, well, at the latest in a series of homes. We are housesitting for my wow-has-she-never-looked-better friend Gina who is gallivanting around the south of France with her new boyfriend. I am enjoying her sunlit house set amid strawberry fields and we ourselves are gallivanting around Santa Cruz county, the beach is one freeway exit away.

    My parents are with us, playing cards, up early waiting for pancakes made with blueberries we got at Trader Joe's. My eighty-seven year old mom is on her cell phone all the time. Yesterday we showed her how to text, so I expect this morning I'll have to tell her, "Mom, not at the breakfast table." 

    My slightly confused dad pushes his walker around, I think a circularly-laid out house is not a good idea for our advancing years. In spite of how long it takes him to put on his shoes, we pushed him around in his wheel chair at the farmer's market where we loaded his lap with baby lettuces and nectarines then parked him in front of the band, we took him along to see a Toy Story 3 on Stefan's birthday, and to the beach in a balloon-wheeled sand chair, provided free by Parks and Rec. Thank you California!

    Camille has rainbow cotton lanyard bracelets going up both arms and tie-dyed a t-shirt at her horse camp. When's yoga?

  • words on a billboard: plausible dachas

    Dacha 8 Dacha 22 Dacha 12 Dacha with roses

    Dacha white with brown Dacha blue door

    Dacha 15

    I have a new job, or at least job venue, I'm heart-broken over good-byes, the new bid list is out, we are leaving in a couple weeks to go home for R&R, we're selling our house, we're constantly trolling real estate sites looking at possible properties and then photoshopping in better furniture. Nina is here helping us have fun, this weekend we went to the long-neglected Tretrykov Gallery and we now have plans for the State History Museum. And I have ideas! A book, newsletter articles, a series of paintings, (Do I paint?), a TV show and a set of note cards. Maybe it's just that it's light until 11 p.m. and we are all, including the birds that sing all night long, manic.

    These oh my god photos reminded me that we HAD to get out to Sergei Posad. Today we wandered around the monastery, and then Peter was so darling, he followed me slowly in the car while I walked around and took these–all in the same neighborhood.

  • need to learn dandelion in russian

    Dandelion3 Dandelion2 Dandelion4 Moscow5-21

    I jog around the track here and it's filled with these dandelions right now. It's made me realize how much I love them.

  • rue st laud salon

    Angers record player

     There is nothing better than having someone else deal with my hair. In France. Also, Stefan needed a haircut since the last one was the result of a midnight lice scare, (there were no lice, but I started hacking at his hair to make sure.) The salon had a turntable and a crazy mix of vinyl. Queen, Jacques Brel, Gainsburo, Dvorjak…it was fun to hear the needle going around and around when the record was over, I hadn't heard that sound in a long time. Can I come to Angers every time we need haircuts? 

  • before his eyes were even open

    Angers bakery 003
    Stefan's first words this morning: Is the bakery open yet?

  • madame la drago owns la cocagne, nina calls her madame

    Anger evening 001 
    The bread in France, right? Yeah, yeah, yeah.

    Peter's sister Ludmilla was just here visiting Nina in Angers. What you need to know is that Ludmilla is a super taster. As a kid all she ate was noodles with ketchup because most everything else offended her, and she still doen't like the taste of wine. "Too sour," she says. But she can taste a soup or a sauce and tell you the ingredients. She has taken apart and put back together some of our favorite foods–from a mango challah we use to get in San Francisco to a better-recipe-than-the-original blueberry-cardamom bread from Elephant Bakery in Portland to a coconut-almond scone she just made up for no good reason. 

    She says the bread from La Cocagne, the bakery right across the street from Nina's apartment in Angers, is better than any she's ever had, including the days they were stuck in Paris, forced to do emergency bread research.

    From the chocolate vienoise to the sugar-encrusted cream puffs without the cream (I don't know what they are really called) to the croissants to the best sour dough baguette ever, I am pretty sure that La Cocange means 'cheap legal drugs'' in French.

    Speaking of which, the wine in France, right?