Snow and Work!

Today it snowed. It came down hard while we were being driven to our first assignment, a visit to the Lenininsky Elder Care facility. Victor fishtailed us across town safely. And we arrived to a room filled with 20 or so hardy, elderly Russians who had braved the snow to reach the facility in order to visit with us. It actually wasn't a heroic act or even unusual, for that matter . . . this is what they (and everyone else in Russia) does when it snows. They just go about their lives. It may take a bit longer, but they proceed. We can remember how this was done in New England, back when we had winters. 

At any rate, we told about ourselves, augmented by photographs. I scrambled and pulled together a sampling that I showed on my computer . . . starting with a picture of Beth in Africa. That threw everyone off a bit, but I explained the Peace Corps and the work Beth is doing teaching science. From there followed a photo of a Red Sox game at Fenway Park. I don't think baseball really registered. Though one gentleman commented on the Boston Bears hockey team. It turned out that one woman attending is also a poet. She gave each of us a copy of one of her books, and I got two . . . perhaps as a courtesy to a fellow poet? They are written for children, with illustrations by children in the fourth of her four books . . . as her illustrator unfortunately passed away. Besides poetry, she had worked in a factory as an engineer for many years. 

It was interesting to listen to the questions and comments from the group. It was particularly interesting to try to understand what was being said before it was translated by Asya. I am getting better to some degree, in that I can comprehend whole phrases and some short, simple sentences. Not having tried to learn a language in a long time, it's interesting that comprehension appears to be a precursor to gaining confidence in speaking. I have a long way to go!

This afternoon, we went to School 45. I believe this is a school for children whose parents are being treated for alcoholism or other drug addictions. A number of the children also seem to have developmental difficulties, as well. Granted some of this may be a result of the environments they've been subjected to. We had them make masks from paper plates and popsicle sticks. We had four samples . . . one of them was a wolf, which was wildly popular with the boys. I got to help with (well, actually draw) a couple wolves. They were a rambunctious but generally sweet group of kids probably 6 to 10 years old, but we managed to get the masks done with a minimal amount of mayhem. 

Following the mask-making, it was time to break out the bag of games we'd brought, and with the games came the mayhem. First of all, to play games one needs to be able to communicate and agree upon the rules. We had no chance. But, happily, kids can make up rules that bring them amusement (if not consistency). I ended up in charge of a game of tiddly winks . . . requiring one, of course, to pinch small plastic ovals with a larger oval, launching the small ovals in the general direction of a board with various scores segregated by triangles within a circle. For quite awhile we had winks flying at alarming speed across the room, and rolling under radiators, tables, etc. Eventually, it occurred to me to set up a frame from the box the game came in around the board, which allowed the winks to carom off and sometimes land on the board . . . which was fun for all of us, as the kids would yell out their scores, and I got a chance to practice my Russian numbers. I was pretty good at that actually.

Upon our return to home base, we had a lecture from a local historian on the Romanov dynasty. It covered a lot of material that I am familiar with, but it was still a fascinating story to hear. The only challenge was that it was warm, I was tired from trying to keep up with the kids from School 45, and it was just before dinner. I felt the compelling need to nod off, which reminded me once more why the Russians don't allow sitting during church services. A history lecture or sermon that lasts an hour . . . both are equally soporific. 

Time now for a stroll in the snow, and I need to visit the ATM to get cash to pay for my pending train ticket to St. Petersburg, which Sveta (another of our translators and the one who rescued me at the airport upon my arrival) may purchase on my behalf. It appears to be a lot less expensive to buy one if you can read the Russian train schedule in Russian. Taking advantage of the English-speaking customers? Maybe. But more likely it's my inability to comprehend as well as I think I can. I better get used to that, because come Thursday night I'll be on my own on a Russian train. That should be interesting.