BAD DOG!!!

Sasha found a pillow.  That is all.

Sunday Stroll with Sasha

Local transportation

Walking the path to the road

"Cafe Restaurant--Lunch Menu"

Looking back at our building

Babushka in the park

Sled hill--you pay to play

Little girl at the end of her run

Sled hill--Crazy people way up on the right

Same sled hill, different angle

Pretty blue church

Crazy dog and pretty blue church

Shadow=Sun!  Yay!

Moscow in the distance

Sasha in the woods

Pretty

1980 Olympics rowing venue

Used in the winter for ice-driving

Driving Range/Cross country Skiing

Moon over Moscow River

Sasha next to Moscow River

Crazy banya people in the distance

Family feeding ducks

Pretty

Sasha in the woods

Crazy dog

Grandpa frightening the kids

Crazy soccer people

Sunday stroll

Down the home stretch

Waiting to go in

In the elevator and home again

It was a lovely day for a stroll--about 15 degrees Fahrenheit, but sunny and crisp.  We walked across the street to the "Blue Church Park."  I'm sure it has a real name, but that's what we call it.  It was a winter wonderland.  Families out sledding.  People gathering holy water from the spring.  Old ladies out for a stroll.  Bicyclists--no kidding!  Snowboarders.  A little of everything.  We made our way through the park to the Olympic rowing venue where cars and motorcycles were racing on the ice.  A motorcyclist tried to get from one track to another by cutting through the snow.  His bike stopped and over the front he went.  The snow made for a soft landing, so nothing was hurt but his pride.
Then past the golf driving range that's now a cross-country skiing area.  Down to and along the river for about a mile.  Past the little ski area (two hills) and the crazy banya boys.  Must have just missed the polar bear plunge.  Watched the fishermen  and the family feeding the ducks.  We then cut up the hill along the stream and through the forest.  Watched grandpa have a good time and almost kill the kids on the sled hill.  Went back to the apartment via the soccer field.  I love that it was 15 degrees out and the guys were sliding their way around the pitch.  And then we were done.

Nothing to Declare

One of the hardest decisions we had to make in regards to moving to Moscow was what to do with our cat, Molly.  She’s been with us since Valentine’s Day in 2001 and is as much a part of the family as a cat can be.  We left her in Berlin over the summer and figured that we would go pick her up before school started. 

When we got to Moscow and took a look at our apartment (12^th floor) and our surroundings (big city), we decided that it maybe wasn’t the best place for a cat.  The people who had moved into our old house in Berlin had left their cat in London and were more than happy to adopt Molly and take care of her.  On a tearful night in mid-late August, the kids decided that Molly would probably be better off in Berlin.  I canceled my plans to fly back to Berlin, and we settled into “normal” life in Moscow without Molly.

Fast-forward to November 29^th.  I received an e-mail from Magda in Berlin.  Back in September, the people in London who had been watching her cat, Picasso, decided that it wasn’t going to work out, and so Magda went to London to collect Picasso and bring him back to Berlin.  Molly and Picasso did not get along.  After cleaning up cat pee and cat poo for the umpteenth time, Magda decided she had had enough, thank you very much, and told us that she needed us to do something about Molly.  So…

I left for Sheremetyevo, the Moscow airport, on Saturday the fourth of December at 0500.  As much as I complain about the traffic in this town, it is surprisingly easy to get around when no one else is on the road.  The drive out to Sheremetyevo took about 20 minutes.  No problem.  Sheremetyevo has six terminals.  Problem.  Fortunately, it’s Russia, so normal rules about parking and leaving cars in front of airport terminals don’t apply. 

I parked in front of terminal E and went in to try to find my airplane.  No luck.  Couldn’t even find a computer monitor to tell me where my airplane might be.  Back in the car and on to terminal D.  Parked in front of terminal D and headed in.  Yay…computer monitor.  My airplane was at Terminal F.  Drove to terminal F and parked on the road just outside the parking garage.  Hey…everybody else was doing it. 

My plane left Moscow at 0820 and arrived in Berlin at 0900.  Having spent a large chunk of the last three years schlepping my family and most of our belongings through various airports, it was unreal to me to get from my plane to my rental car in 25 minutes.  I didn’t know such a thing was even possible.  (Oh…and I got to sit in the exit row on the flight.  Can’t do that with kids.  Heaven.) 

The day in Berlin was lovely.  I went into town, hoping to walk through a Christmas market or two, but they weren’t open yet.  So I headed out to Kleinmachnow and grabbed some of the comfort food—tea, white chocolate spread, crackers—that we’d been missing.  I had lunch with our old neighbors, chatted with Magda and her family, and then went to visit Joost and Rem, our dear friends who stayed behind in Berlin.  Darren and Ben, colleagues and Champions League friends, made it out to Kleinmachnow, and we headed over to the Doener shop for food and conversation.

Why I love being a guy:

Jesse: “Joost!”

Joost: “Jesse!”

Jesse: “Haven’t seen you for four months!  How’ve you been?”

Joost: “Good! You?”

Jesse: “Good.”

Joost: “Now about those world cup selections…Qatar?  Really?”

Jesse: “I know…”

And we were off.

It was good to catch up and touch base and reconnect.  The food was as I remembered it, the beer was cheap and plentiful, and the conversation was sports-centered and off-color.  Perfect.

Back at the Joost and Rem’s, the hug from their daughter, Mijke, was worth the price of admission all by itself.  That and getting to walk around with Elke, their seven month-old daughter was lovely.  I do likes me my babies.

I had a lovely evening with them, and I left their place around 2000, did some last-minute shopping, and went to pick up Molly.  The trip from Berlin to Moscow was relatively uneventful.  Walking through the metal detector while carrying a cat was a little surreal, but I guess it’s good to know I wasn’t smuggling a weapon inside the cat.  When I checked in, I suggested that the whole plane would probably prefer that I sit as far away from everyone else as possible.  So they gave me the back row of the airplane, which meant that I could stretch out and sleep.  Even better than the exit row.  Molly would perk up every 30 minutes or so and express her displeasure with her current lot in life—in a bag under a seat on an airplane—but her complaints were half-hearted at best.  The plane left Berlin at a little past midnight on Saturday night/Sunday morning.

And then, at about 0500 on Sunday morning, we landed in Moscow.  What to do?  The way I saw it, I had two options: 1-declare the cat; 2-don’t.  With option 1, I figured, best-case scenario, it all goes well (I had a pet passport and all the appropriate documentation), it doesn’t take all that long, and Molly becomes a legal cat-immigrant into the Russian Federation.  Worst-case scenario, they don’t let Molly into the country and I go to jail for assaulting a Russian cat-immigration officer.  With option 2, worst-case scenario, I get sent back to option 1 and, best-case scenario…home free.  Here’s how option 2 played out:

On the ride down the escalator from passport control (side note: good to be a “diplomat”) to baggage claim, a large sign comes into view:  “VETERINARY CONTROL ----> ”  Hm.  Wonder what that’s for? 

I grabbed a luggage cart, put Molly’s bag on it, and covered it with my jacket.  I collected my bag full of German goodies and put it on the luggage cart, too.  I then lurked around the exit until there were several people waiting to leave baggage claim.  (Full disclosure:  I also had 2000 Rubles ($60) in Molly’s pet passport.  Is graft a way of life in Russia?  Yes it is.)  Once there were about three or four people heading out, I joined them. 

Every international airport I’ve ever been through has two lines when you leave baggage claim: red and green.  Red means you have something to declare; green means you don’t. 

Guess which one I chose? 

The drive from the airport was as equally uneventful as the ride in had been, and I got home, with Molly, around 0630.  25 hours.

And now, on January 8^th, Molly’s currently sitting on the windowsill looking out at the world from the 12^th floor.  I don’t know what she’s going to be like when the sun comes out and the weather turns nice, but, for now, she seems pretty content.  She and Sasha have their relationship mostly sorted out.  She hasn’t left us any “gifts” in shoes or laundry piles.  That’s about as much as we could ask for.

And Izzy’s happy.

The Exciting Life of the International Teacher, or, Why Haven't You Updated Your Blog?

A week in the life of the Worleys:

Monday

0530—Up and out with dog

0600—Morning routine.  Do you really want to hear about showers and backpacks and breakfasts and gloves and hats and jackets?  Didn’t think so.

0700—Leave for school.

0725—Arrive at school  (God and traffic willing)

0830—School

1530—Dismiss students

1615—Leave for home

1650—Arrive home (God and traffic willing)

1652—Out with dog

1715—Start thinking about what to cook for dinner.  Probably should’ve put something out to defrost.  Damn. 

1730—Throw something together involving protein and carbohydrates

1800—Eat the aforementioned protein and carbohydrate mixture

1810—We’re fast eaters

1815—Out with dog.  Homework?  No homework!  Yay!  Yes, you can watch you tube or check your facebook. 

1830—Back with dog.  Wait, you did have homework?  Son of a …  Get to work! 

1930—Izzy in the shower

1950—Get out of the shower!

1952—Seriously!  Out of the shower.

1955—Addy in shower

2005—Addy out of the shower

2010—Finish homework.  Check work e-mail.  Facebook.  E-mails.  At least think about thinking about planning for work tomorrow. 

2045—Lights out for kids.  Phone  calls, e-mails, facebook, “Rome”, “How I Met Your Mother”, “Weeds” (Not all of them, but usually one of them)

2200—Out with dog

2230—Read in bed

2300—Lights out

Tuesday

Repeat Monday, except one of the kids has an after school activity, so we don’t leave school until 1645, and the traffic is dicey so we don’t get home until 1730.

Wednesday

Repeat Monday, except one of the kids has an after school activity, so we don’t leave school until 1645 and the traffic is INSANE, so we don’t get home until 1745 at which point we find the piano teacher waiting patiently at our front door.  Piano lessons last until 1900.

Thursday

Repeat Monday, except one of the kids has an after school activity.  We jet out of school at 1635, and traffic cooperates, so we’re actually home around 1705

Friday

Repeat Monday, except that we generally find one of the other families in our apartment complex and hang out.  It generally involves beverages.

Saturday

0700—Out with dog (Occasionally, he’ll feel benevolent and allow us to sleep in until 0800.  Occasionally.)

0830—Stuff

1000—Long walk with dog

1130—Lunch

1230—Dog

1245—Nap

1345—Wake up

1347—Back to sleep

1430—Wake up

1432—Dog

1445—Facebook, Reddit, think about thinking about maybe planning for next week.  Give up and go back to Reddit.  Phone calls.  E-mails.

1530—Family show/movie

1715—Usually find another family to hang out with.  A few beverages are sometimes involved.

Sunday

0700—Dog

0830—Shopping.  Sunday morning is the safest time to hit the grocery store, so this is usually when I go. 

0945—Dog

1000—Stuff

1300—Dog

1310—Stuff

1530—Dog

1550—Stuff

1745—Dog

1800—Food

1830—Evening routine

2000—Dog

2010—Stuff

2200—Dog

2220—Read

2300—Lights out

Monday

Start all over

Summary

This is somewhat tongue-in-cheek, but, honestly, not that much.  Normal life is normal life, whether you’re living it in Colorado or Germany or Russia.