Sveta and I added a kitten to our household. We call her Tara, short for "terror" or "terrified." Yesterday, there was a lot of running and hiding and, when I would grab at her, hissing. I'm not sure if Tara's acclimated herself to 7 Yursha Street, but today it's clear that the initial terror has been replaced by intense form of hyperactivity. Tera enjoys climbing the wall rug and attacking the curtains. Unlike her predecessor, she seems to have come with an inborn knowledge of what a cat box is and how to use it. And we are grateful. Somewhat surprisingly, [View Full Entry]

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Sveta's friend Zhenya Vorontsov invited us to the stay at her family's dacha yesterday. Her father, Alexander, received the dacha 20 years ago, and with his own hands he built the home, shed, and two bathhouses. His wife Galina transformed the small plot of land into a garden unlike any I have seen before. Beets, onions, tomatos, peppers, strawberries, rasberries, currents, cucumbers, carrots grow alongside roses, lilies, camomiles, and flowers I did not recognize. "Everything you see here you can eat," Sveta explained. At regular intervals, Zhenya has stopped by our apartment to deliver [View Full Entry]

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I spent yesterday in the sun. First outside the morgue and then at the beach. Funeral services in the Orthodox Church were at 1, so the Legotkins and I got to the morgue at around 11 am. There a a number of families had gathered outside under the hot sun, each waiting to collect their loved ones. We joined them. After a death, Russians usually keep the body at home and have the burial three days later. The heat, however, had created a high demand for the morgue's services. Outside the morgue, you could smell why. Many of the mourners-in-waiting held [View Full Entry]

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Sveta's grandmother was supposed to be buried today, but the Russian state's obsession for proper documentation has made this impossible. This morning, Sveta and I made our way to the funeral home to get flowers and arrange everything prior to the arrival of the guests. The fading wallpaper, and United Russia wall calenders (United Russia is the ruling political party) , and especially the slick attendents whose nameplates read "experts," recalled real estate offices and lower end car dealerships in the United States. A man with half buttoned shirt explained that because the certificate of [View Full Entry]

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Universities are supposed to be places where contrarian views are cultivated, accepted, but I was still shocked when Svetlana's advisor told me "I bet your surprised to meet a hawk in Russia." He gave me a signed latest book, which he described as "pro-Bush." It's not so much pro-Bush as it as a taxonomy and history of neoconservatism in the United States (which he likes) and Wallace-style ""paleo" conservatism (which he detests). The Russian hawk lamented that the United States did not invade Syria back in 2003, which was, of course, where all the WMDs were to begin with. So we [View Full Entry]

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I'm taking a break from Russian langauge lessons. Later this afternoon Sveta, her friend Anna, and I will go to a movie. Something to do with Paris. There's a Bergman retrospective next week that I'm looking forward to checking out. Perm has a great second run theater. So here are mess of photos. My greatest regret is that I forgot my Pilgrim's hat. [View Full Entry]

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On our way to pick up my HIV certificate, Sveta and I stopped in at the American Club in the Perm library. The club consisted of five girls. In honor of July 4, the club leader, who had studied in America and had some connection with the U.S. Consulate in Yekerinburg, had created an American trivia game for the four other girls who had been divided into two teams. We arrived near the end of the competition, the two teams were basically tied. One category remained: history. Sveta and split up, taking opposite sides. My team -- The Superstars -- won [View Full Entry]

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