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Land of my forefathers. 129 years ago, my Grandfather, Dr. Peter Soudakoff, was born in St. Petersburg. My Grandmother, Nina Grave was born there too. Both fled during the Russian revolution where they met in China. Today, we travel by train to the place of their birth. 

I set up wii and Camille is a national bowling champion material.

Just in from chez Charger d' affairs after a wonderful evening of wine, cheese, and the Shanghai String Quartet. Twenty-one years ago, Dina and I hired another string quartet to play at our wedding. So it seemed appropriate to go hear this rich quartet play Ravel and Beethoven along with some Chinese pieces. The setting was intimate and the acoustics were warm and vibrant. 

I stole this from my friend Mike's facebook page. (See his amazing design work here.) "Are you keeping up with the elections?" he asked. "Yeah! David Cook won!" I said.

It was an unplanned arrival but Dina always finds a way to travel in style. We left DC in a panic. Our luggage was overweight by a few pounds in 4 of the 8 suitcases so we had to redistribute the weight. Now forgive me for asking but, why does it matter how the weight is distributed if it can all go within the guidelines of the allotted weight? Time was running out and we were flinging our underwear out of our bags to find something worth "redistributing". Thank you to the young female passanger who helped us drag all of our bags to the x-ray check-in away from the ticket counter. I never got your name.

In New York, the flight was overbooked. No surprise there since we were flying on Delta Airlines. It was packed with lots of Russians and more of their kids. Just as we were getting our ticket swiped, Dina hears the overhead announcement that they are offering a business class flight on Air France to Moscow via Paris plus $400/person to anyone willing. Once I stopped to ponder this, it was easy to agree that by not doing so was simply stupidity on our part. An hour later, we are seated in business class; Stefan has his dental chair in the horizontal position with his night shades on and his ear plugs in and the cocktail waitress is serving us champagne (I'll post the picture as soon as I am able)! Although I should note that the only difference between business class and steerage on the last leg of the flight between Paris and Moscow was a simply a curtain.

So we arrive in Moscow and we are completely out of our minds from jet lag and business class hospitality when we slowly realize that there is no one there to pick us up. The woman at the information booth is curtious yet with an undertone of irritation. I ask for assistance calling the American Embassy. She instructs me to buy a phone card from the bar and hands me the Russian phone book to look up the number. But my appologetic kindness prevailed and she did finally look up the number for me and even paged anyone who was listening to come to the information booth and help Mr. Chordas who is waiting for them (equivalent of our "white Curtesy phone"). I finally get through to the Embassy and after a series of transfer calls talk to someone who will help retreive us. A van comes 2 hours later to pick us up. Bad traffic we are told.

Exhausted, we are brought to our apartment in the heart of Moscow. We are all too tired to comprehend out surroundings except to say, "wow!" Our sponsors had left us some homemade lasagna and a nice bottle of wine. A new and dear friend had delivered some excellent pastries (thank you Moscowmom).

This morning I woke up to a view of birch trees, spruce, and a lone pine out our bedroom window. My office is literally less than 200 feet from our front door! I hear Russian everywhere in the Embassy and Camille is already playing with the DCM's daughter (second only to the Ambassador). Stefan has also made friends on the playground. I miss Niamey and the States but I am excited to be here!