Monday, November 30, 2009

Dresscode: "Russians like mini-skirts" - Monday, 17 November 2009

One of our complaints is that there is no handbook. How are we supposed to know what we are and aren't supposed to do if there is no handbook?

As a parent, I'm also concerned that there is no handbook for students. (As a teacher, too, for I want there to be a section on discipline!)


I had been concerned before we arrived about the uniform--I knew that the school would provide the uniform, but what sort of shoes could she wear? What about the tights?


I quickly saw that there wasn't much of a code. Every day, almost every class has at least one child not in uniform--usually dressed nicely in a suit (if a boy) or a black skirt and nice blouse (if a girl). Frequently the girls have on the correct skirt but a different, but similar, top. The boys often have on different yet similar trousers.


Boots are common footwear here, but children also frequently change from boots into slip-on shoes, dress shoes, or sandals once in the classroom. Shoes are usually dark, however I've seen all sorts of colors (red being the most common after black and white).


Because it's cold, girls wear tights or leggings under their skirts. These come in a variety of colors with a variety of designs, and they wear them all. (Bright purple? Yes. Neon pink? Yes. Pictures of animals? Yes.)


The skirts are in a variety of lengths, from mini-skirt length to almost-ankle-length. Sophia's is almost-ankle-length, because I can't sew well and didn't try to hem it.


PE they wear "sports clothes"--similar to play-clothes or work-out clothes, often sweatpants and t-shirts.


So I realized that I didn't have to be too concerned about Sophia!


Monday, the vice principal came into my room and asked if I was free. I was, and so he told me that he was working on the parent handbook--hurrah!--for next year. He was writing the uniform code and needed my help with the English. (He's Turkish.)


So, first we described the girls' uniform, which seemed a tad silly to go into detail, when the uniforms had to be the ones provided by the school.


*pink, long-sleeve shirt.


It's not just a plain shirt, it's collared and made out of thick material, I kept thinking there was an official name for it, so I asked Christie, who happened to pass by at that moment. "T-shirt," she said. What!? A t-shirt is something casual, for PE. This is not a T-shirt! This is like a polo shirt, I think.


So we agreed on "pink long sleeve shirt with collar." On to


*sweater vest


I was going to go with "red" but no, the v.p. insisted, the color is bordeaux. Okay, if you say so. (The vest is like the color of a dark red wine...)


*bordeaux plaid skirt


That seemed easier, considering I already knew the color word. But then came the question of length. Yes, he did want the skirts to be below the knee, as many private schools in America require. So I wrote, "Skirt must be below the knee." He panicked--I can't say "must". "Must" is implied in the fact that this is a dress code. We must be careful not to offend people's culture. Apparently, skirt length is a cultural thing. Muslims like long skirts and Russians like mini-skirts. (That's what the v.p. said!) So let's be sensitive to other cultures and not stress the fact that we are going to require those Russians to wear longer skirts.


*tights? leggings?


We left a question mark next to those. That's undecided, as are the shoes. Probably the shoes will have to be a dark color. I was allowed to write "must not have flashing lights or wheels." Here, "must" would not offend any cultures.


I brought up jewelry and make-up, a question mark was left by those two also. I mentioned my private Catholic school and its rules (no jewelry except stud earrings, no make-up.)


On to the boys:


*light blue song-sleeve shirt with collar


Here, we had a bigger issue than we had had with the girls' bordeaux. These shirts are definitely not light blue. Can't I tell? It's turquoise!


What? Okay, maybe I can discern I hint of green in those shirts, but that's not turquoise. I had googled bordeaux to check on the color, so I googled turquoise. Turquoise is a whole lot brighter and greener than these shirts!


He said something turquoise being a Turkey color (same root word?) and I searched that on wikipedia. There doesn't seem to be much correlation. But, okay, if turquoise is the color of Turkey, and this school is run by a Kazakh-Turkish organization, then, sure, let's call those shirts turquoise. It's not like the parents are going to go out and buy the shirts on their own.


On to the vests and trousers.


What color are those? Here, he had the simple color word--navy blue--and I was insisting that that was wrong. This color has baffled me for some time--Sophia has one "bordeaux" plaid skirt and one skirt that's this color. At first I had thought it was black. But it's not. It's some deep, deep blue--deep is a better word than dark, it's a deep blue like the deepest parts of the ocean. It's like Superman's hair in the comics (but not where the blue is really obvious.)


But we settled for navy blue. I think it might be Prussian blue, but I wasn't in the mood to google any more colors. (We did google navy blue.)


Belts? I asked. He seemed confused by that. That didn't matter. Oh, but no big, flashy belt buckles. I had to laugh. I thought that problem was unique to the Southern and western USA.


I kept thinking about the Catholic school that I had attended, and so I decided to see what they had written in their handbook. The v.p. thought this was a great idea. He said he was collecting handbooks from other schools, using them as a guide as he wrote our handbook. He had a USB with him; so once I downloaded the handbook, he copied it to his USB. We quickly glanced over the long handbook. He said he knew that Catholic schools were well-known for their discipline. I pointed out a lot of the areas where it mentioned discipline; I also mentioned that they could kick out students who misbehaved. We both noticed that where it mentioned dress code, it stressed the length of the skirts.


It may yet be another year before we have a handbook, but at least one is on the way. And a little bit of St. Mary's Catholic School may be in the handbook.



Church - Sunday, 16 November 2009

The priest appears to be very happy every Sunday at the number of people attending the English-language Mass. Our group consists of 8 people, and that makes up about half the congregation! We are quite happy that they offer an English-language Mass!


After church, the priest came over and asked me how old Sophia is. He said that she is probably nearing her time for First Communion. We discussed it a bit; I said that in the States, next year would be the year, and he seemed to agree. However, he said that when we were ready, one of the sisters would give her classes, and then we would invite the bishop and have a formal ceremony. How nice! Of course, this is what they do in the States, but I wasn't sure--with Sophia being just one--that they would do anything. To be privately tutored by a nun is definitely good.

Saturday, November 28, 2009

How to Make a Chocolate Cake in Kazakhstan - Sunday, 15 November 2009


I had wanted Sophia to celebrate her birthday at school, and so on Sunday I attempted another cake. I had found cocoa powder in the grocery store, and this excited me, and so I scoured the Internet for chocolate cake recipes. I finally found one that seemed feasible, and I set to making it. I doubled the recipe, as it appeared to be small, and I knew if I had extra batter, I could also find something to do with it--but if I had too little, then that wouldn't be good.


I used up the milk and vanilla on the cake, and so I had to figure out a frosting without milk (I figured I could just omit the vanilla). Again I scoured the Internet, again I doubled the recipe I found. The frosting tasted delicious, and the cake appeared to look great, and so I quickly wrote down how I had made it--considering I hadn't completely followed the directions. I also wrote down the flour and margarine I had used, so I could replicate the recipe if it turned out to be good.


As it turns out, it was very good, and quite a success in her class. Sophia said that the assistant kept eating more and more. It was very moist, and luckily her teacher left one slice for me to try! The frosting is very fudge-y and works well as a dessert all by itself (if you're desperate for something sweet and easy, as we were one day later that week!)


So here's a recipe for chocolate cake in Kazakhstan! (You need a pan from Canada and a measuring cup from the States, however).


CAKE--I doubled the original recipe.

I. Ingredients

2 cups flour (мука в/сорт ак кайнар вес)

4 tablespoons (= 8 teaspoons) cocoa powder

4 teaspoons baking powder (разрыхлитель)

4 pinches salt

2 cups sugar

2 tablespoons (or about 2 packets) vanilla (or just 1 packet if that's all you have)


Mix together with fork.


II. Ingredients

1 cup milk and/or water (I used 5 ounces of 1.5% Moe milk and 3 ounces water.)

1 cup vegetable oil

4 eggs


Mix into flour mixture. Stir until smooth.


III. Pour into Christie's cake pan (pre-greased with margarine & flour).


IV. Cook at about 180 degrees Celsius or maybe a bit less for 35 minutes or less. Until toothpick inserted in center comes out clean.



ICING--will make enough for cake plus leftovers. I doubled the original recipe, which would have been too little.

I. Ingredients

16 ounces (450 g) powdered sugar -- or 4 packets 100 grams powdered sugar

3 tablespoons (6 teaspoons) cocoa powder

3 teaspoons (or 1 packet) vanilla (or forget it if you don't have it, oops!)


Stir with fork. Try not to splash powdered sugar all over the kettle.


II. Ingredients

2 cups (220 g) butter -- or 1 stick of 200 grams of margarine (жар печка маргарин для выпечки)

3 tablespoons (= 6 teaspoons) water or tad less


Cook in microwave until butter is extremely soft. Stir.


III. Pour butter mixture into powdered sugar mixture. Stir until creamy. Watch out for tiny clusters of cocoa powder.


IV. Pour onto cake. Put cake in fridge so the glaze can harden. Take out of fridge several hours before serving.


Yummy!


Thursday, November 26, 2009

English-Language Library - Saturday, 14 November 2009


On Saturday, Irene's parents took us to the English-language library. It is called Eagilik, and is very nondescript--it looks like just any other ground-floor business that is located in any building. It is next to a travel agency.


Irene's mother drove, and I sat in the back with Irene, Sophia, and Irene's dad's assistant, a Kazakh man from Shmykent (southern Kazakhstan) who speaks Turkish, English, Kazakh and Russian (and maybe more! I didn't ask.)


We went into the library, which was small and cozy, and divided into two sections: the library, and the coffee shop. The coffee shop reminded both Sophia and me of coffee shops in downtown Greenville, and Sophia had chocolate cake and hot chocolate while I had broccoli-and-cheese quiche and tea. The chocolate cake was American-style and Sophia wolfed hers down. The workers had trouble making the hot chocolate, and the American owner had to explain it to them and then apologize to us. It was their first time making hot chocolate. I know I've seen it sold in the stores, so it shouldn't be that confusing!


There is a bookshelf in the coffee shop with books free for the taking, and a sign explaining this and requesting that books be donated if you have finished any. All the signs in the store were in English and Russian.


There also were some books, calendars, and shirts out for sale.


Irene and Sophia went to look at books. The selection is minimal, but far greater than the school library's! You must take off your shoes to be in this area, and there are some armchairs for relaxed reading. Sophia quickly found 2 animal books and a Scooby Doo DVD. I registered--registration fee is 800 Tenge for teachers. The owner came over and talked to me some. She is from the Washington, DC, area, but has plenty of relatives in South Carolina. Her brother went to Clemson.


She hadn't heard of my school, but mentioned another international school, and said that she had heard that they weren't really English-language, as they claimed to be, at least not in the early grades. Ours isn't either. In a way, that's good to know, I often think, what if I had applied for a job at one of the other international schools here? So it's good to know that that one might not be much better in terms of finding English-speaking friends for Sophia.

(Apart from my school and the one mentioned by the library owner, there is only one other international school. Later, I learned that this one is truly international, but not national--pretty much doesn't have any locals. It is also very small, inside a house. And they were hiring when I was applying, I remember seeing the school mentioned and thinking, "No, I'm not moving to Kazakhstan!" I saw my current school's ad in July, by then I had expanded my definition of what constituted "too far" away.)


The adults drank tea and read English-language newspapers while Irene and Sophia attempted to play. I had brought her Polly Pocket, and this intrigued Irene, and for a long time they sat side by side, dressing their dolls. Neither was fully ready to play at the same time as the other--and finally, when they started to play, they couldn't agree whether the dolls were under the sea or on land, and so they stopped playing!


Then Irene's parents drove us home.


It was wonderful to be in an English-language library, and to know where one is (I asked for and received bus directions). This is definitely a good find!


And hopefully Sophia and Irene will learn how to be friends!


Tuesday, November 24, 2009

The Frozen River - Friday, 13 November 2009

Friday we did not do much, and it was nice to have a relaxing day. I found a web site that will show you bus routes, and I wanted to go to Republik Street. A parent had mentioned a clothing store on that street, and Lonely Planet recommends it for shopping. It's the main road in the old downtown.


Bus 2 appeared to go near there, and so around 4:00 we headed out. Bus 2 passed by our church, and we got off one stop over. I knew that Sophia wanted to see the iced-over river, and I knew we could get near it from here.


Again, we are from the Southern USA and all this cold stuff is quite new to us, and thus very fascinating. I have never seen a frozen over river. I spent quite a bit of my life doubting that such a thing could actually occur. This river was frozen.


It was quite beautiful. The river is located down a steep bank, and a moderate fence serves to keep people from not climbing down the bank. We walked by this fence, spotting animal tracks and marveling at the white river.


It had recently snowed, and the river was large and still and white.


We saw a few dog paw prints, a few human prints, and mostly we saw what we dubbed "the hop-hop prints" because some small animal (bird, most likely) had hopped to make those prints.


We crossed a bridge and continued walking, to some steps where we could go down closer to the river. It looked like a dog had run across the river, judging from the tracks.


Sophia really wanted to walk on the river, but I said no. Not until we are sure we can do it. (By this, I mean, not until someone else tells us that it is safe, and that someone is someone I can trust!)


I had to reach down and touch the river though--it was soft, powdery snow. Under the snow was rather solid ice.


The world at this moment was still, the air was crisp and silent, and we were alone by frozen riverside, surrounded by soft snow and a few animal tracks.


It was getting dark, so I made her return to the main road. We were starting to feel cold, and so we caught the bus home. One day I'll make it to Republik Street


I promised her that we would return.


Monday, November 23, 2009

European versus Traditional Toilets - Thursday, 12 November 2009

While at Duman for Sophia's birthday, Sophia and Irene went to use the toilets. Sophia came back to whisper that she needed me--they were those dreadful squatters, like the ones we had used at Atryom.


So I went with her, and when we entered the ladies' restroom, I noticed a sign, in Kazakh, Russian, and English. "Traditional Toilets" it said and pointed left; and "European-style Toilets" it said and pointed right. On the left were squatters (a bit cleaner than the ones at Artyom) and on the right were what I would call normal toilets.


Oh my goodness. You actually had a choice! Who would choose a squatter over a normal, sit-on-it toilet? We chose "European" of course.


Then we noticed that the ceiling, like the ceiling in the Filipinos' bathroom, is a mirror. While sitting on the toilet, you can look up and see yourself. You can also see the tops of other people in the restroom. Does this mean that someone washing their hands can look up and see my reflection as I'm using the toilet? Maybe so. I wasn't quite in the mood to go out and see if I could see other people using the toilet.


How odd!!!




Sophia Turns 7 - Part 4 - Thursday, 12 November 2009

When we returned home after spending the day with Irene and her family, I gave Sophia some time to relax, and then we opened her presents. Her teacher had given her some pretty pink hair barrettes and bands, as well as a container of Parmesan cheese!


Now, under normal conditions, receiving a previously-opened-and-used bottle of Parmesan cheese is not exactly considered a good gift; but under these conditions, it was perhaps the best present ever. And meaningful--I knew that Christie had brought that bottle with her from Canada, that it was her only bottle, and that she had never found Parmesan cheese in Astana. It was a very special gift and it made Sophia very happy.


I made her pasta right away and she hungrily ate several bowls.


Afterwards, we still had the cake that I had made and was eager to try out. So we called the Filipino teachers; I knew that they had a present for her, too. They were all too happy to come down and try the cake. I suddenly realized that I don't have enough chairs for 7 people (5 Filipinos plus Sophia and me) and I hastily set about to rearranging the kitchen so that at least 5 people would have a seat (4 stools and one chair). I also had to wash some dishes so that we had enough silverware, but we did not have enough plates. I figured some people could eat off a napkin. (When I had visited them and eaten, they didn't have enough silverware or plates either, so I didn't feel too bad about it.)


When I opened the door, the five of them started singing "Happy Birthday" to Sophia, who tried to hide (embarrassed?). I invited them into the kitchen and held my breath as Sophia cut the cake. I could only hope that it would taste okay.


Luckily, they loved it. Sophia and the 5 teachers almost finished the entire cake. I was not too impressed--the cake was dry and a bit heavy, not light and fluffy like it should be. The frosting had the right texture, surprisingly, considering that I had hand-whipped it, but the flavoring was a bit off. Could be the butter, could be the milk--although there were only a few tablespoons of milk in it.


But they loved it, Sophia included, and that was good. Then they gave Sophia her present--a lovely red-with-gold-stripes turtleneck sweater, very pretty, and a little bit festive-looking. I was grateful--she really doesn't have that many long-sleeved shirts.


They left to go eat their dinner, and it was already rather late. We stayed up a bit later and then went to bed. In the morning, we Skyped my parents. Sophia can be a bit grumpy in the mornings, but she was quite pleased to know that while her birthday was over here in Kazakhstan, in America it was still her birthday.


A couple days later, she asked me where in the world it was her birthday. I had to explain to her that her birthday was officially over, no matter where you travel.

Sunday, November 22, 2009

Sophia Turns 7 - Part 3 - Thursday, 12 November 2009

After leaving Duman Center, Sophia, Irene, Irene's parents and I went to their car, a nice-looking SUV. Irene's mother drove--no driver today and no cultural reservations about a woman driving. Irene's father worked nearby, not at the Embassy, but inside some rather tall building (but not tall enough to be a skyscraper). Then Irene's mother drove us for some time until we reached a parking garage. As we went inside, she explained that it is very important to keep your car inside a garage! In the winter, it gets very cold, and your car may not start if it's not been in climate-controlled conditions. Sure, the garage was cold--but not freezing, and that is an important distinction.


We then went outside and into a tall apartment building. I think she was on the 13th floor.


Irene's apartment was nicer than mine, to say the least. However, it was not excessively large or grandiose, nothing like you see advertised in the New York Times Magazine. Just a nice, large apartment. We unloaded our winter gear by the front door, and Irene's mother explained that in her culture, people change shoes indoors. (Here, everyone takes off their shoes when they enter a house, but I don't know if they change shoes.) So she gave me an extra pair of indoor shoes, which were much too small for me, but since they were slip-on, it did not matter.


Sophia and Irene went to her room, where there was a mini-playground--a climbing ladder and a trapeze or something like that. But Irene kept insisting that it was dangerous and they should not play on it. She wanted to play a computer game, and so we went into the living room/dining room to use the computer.


Irene's mother made me Turkish coffee while Irene tried to get the computer game to work. It would not, and so her mother brought out some toys. But Irene really did not want to play with her toys, and she put in an movie--Flushed Away. We watched it, I drank Turkish coffee and then tea, and talked some to Irene's mother. She is an architect, but is able to work from home with her company in Turkey.


After the movie, Irene still did not want to play with her toys, no matter how many her mother brought out (mostly Barbie dolls and other dolls, pretty similar to Sophia's collection of toys). Irene's mother was very much like a middle-class American mother, her concern was with getting Irene to act correctly--play with Sophia, be mindful of others' feelings--without getting too involved. Both of us tried to guide the children to playing together, without becoming overly involved. It wasn't easy.


Finally, we found some colorful paper that came in a box with instructions on how to make things with the paper--a doilie, some flowers. Irene consented to help Sophia make something.


Her father came home from work and happily talked about different programs on the Internet to call internationally for cheap. Her mother cut up some fruit for us to eat. I learned that there is an American library, and it is near their home. You can borrow books and English-language DVDs there, and eat American food such as apple pie, and they go frequently. Saturday they would be at the school (Irene has piano lessons) and afterwards they would go to the library. He offered to take Sophia and me, and also invited Irene's teacher. I was more than happy to accept an offer to find an English-language library!


I also learned that they have only been in Kazakhstan for 9 months. That means that Irene has had less than 9 months of Russian instruction--school was out for 3 months over the summer. And her Russian is so good! Considering that she can translate what other people are saying, from Russian to English, when her native tongue is Turkish, that is pretty impressive. It gives me hope that Sophia will become more adept at Russian--right now, she is struggling.


In Turkey, Irene had gone to a school that also taught English, which is why her English is so good.


Finally, I could sense that it was time to go. I wasn't sure where I was, or how to get home, so her father offered to help me get a taxi.


In Kazakhstan, any car can be a taxi.


We went outside and to a corner, where he flagged down a car for us. At first, I think he was going to give the driver our address and let us go on our own, but then he got in. It was a bit amusing, that he was helping us--considering his Russian is worse than mine. But he had taken a Kazakh taxi before and knew how to flag one down (not hard, many cars will stop for anybody who looks like they might prefer to be in a car).


On the ride home, I asked him if taxis in Turkey were like this. No, he said, there were official taxi cabs, and you used those, not just any car that happened to stop for you (like the US and every other country I've been in).


We arrived in front of our apartment building, and I thanked him profusely and promised to see him on Saturday. "Happy birthday!" he called to Sophia as he closed the door.

Duman Center, Sophia Turns 7 - Part 2 - Thursday, 12 November 2009



Sophia and Irene led us, and we went to the aquarium, but neither wanted to go in right away. Next to the aquarium was the entrance to an animatrix theater of some sorts. They both wanted to enter and once again, Irene's father paid for the tickets before I could figure out what it was and where to pay.


That did not start until 1:00, and so we had time to kill. Duman Center was nearly empty; Irene's father said that on weekends it is packed. We went to an activity that Sophia had seen earlier and wanted to try: Jump on a trampoline, but while attached to bungee-like cords. You had to be weighed first. Irene went first, as Sophia suddenly became scared. The guy working the thing turned something on, and Irene was able to jump over 7 meters. Next it was Sophia's turn, and she was almost too scared to go. She asked to get off early. However, she has good memories of it and will probably want to do it again next time!


After that we found some arcade-type games (such as you can find in Chuck E. Cheese). The girls raced each other in a car race game, threw some basketballs, whacked moles, gave up on a dance-step game, and played air hockey. The car race game was funny--I was amazed at how much better Sophia was than Irene. Which does not mean that Sophia was good, she was awful. But Irene spent most of the time running her car into a wall and turning the car so that she was facing the wrong way. Her parents did their best to help her turn the car around, but in the end, her car barely moved from the starting point before the time was up.


Likewise, shooting baskets was funny. Sophia and Irene completely missed the hoop; at times the ball didn't land anywhere near the hoop or in the netted-in area, and we were lucky that there were no other kids in the area. Irene's parents both tried and missed their shots. I didn't bother trying. I knew I wouldn't make it, and I let them have their fun.


Air hockey was better. Except, as the time was running out, Irene instinctively reached out and grabbed the puck before it went into her goal. Sophia was so upset that she didn't pay attention as Irene shot the puck to Sophia's side, thus making a final goal before the time went out. Sophia was not happy that she had lost due to "cheating".


Then it was time for the animatrix exhibit. I was a bit curious about what it was. Irene's parents said they would wait for us in the cafe, and we went inside. Irene held my hand and I had a feeling it was supposed to be scary.


At first, we just waited in the entrance area. It was decked out like some underground cavern in an Indiana Jones movie. There were ancient-looking statues engraved on the walls, dinosaur bones hidden on the ceiling. Behind a rope was an area made to look like a jungle, complete with real water in a river and a swaying bridge.


A woman wearing an expedition-type outfit called us over to a large stone face and spoke to us in Russian. The children said something and the face's eyes opened and glowed, then the face moved aside, revealing a hidden passageway.


Irene clutched my hand and we went inside.


Inside the dark passageway was a large, moving dinosaur, roaring at us. We stayed with our group and the guide, and Irene translated some of what the guide was saying for us. It was made to seem like we were walking through underground tunnels, stumbling upon some monster or other--dinosaurs, crocodiles, over-sized frogs that sang, "You've got to move it, move it!" (That was rather funny.) One man was there to take pictures of people (for money, of course). Another man, dressed in some sort of "primitive" outfit (grass skirt, painted face) hid in corners with a stick from which dangled grass or string. He would tickle your head when you weren't looking, adding to the suspense and fear I guess. I was quite surprised the first few times this happened to me, as I didn't see him and I would look around, wondering what I had walked under and seeing nothing.


We passed by an old-fashioned one-man airplane that had "crashed" above us; a skeleton was hanging out of it. Nearby was a lean-to and old fire-pit; there also was a skeleton here.


Finally we came into a larger area, made to look like we were no longer underground. Water was running and we were in a jungle of sorts. We crossed a bridge that did not sway although it was designed to look like it should, and then we exited to the room we had started in.


It was an interesting exhibit, definitely designed for children. Sophia wasn't scared, but she enjoyed it.


Then we met up with Irene's parents at the cafe and spent some time trying to figure out if they could do a plain cheese pizza. They sold pizza, but trying to get plain cheese was difficult--especially considering that Irene's father spoke far less Russian than me, yet tried to explain what he wanted in Russian. For a while, I thought that we'd end up with several pizzas, as he kept telling them "odin bolshoi pizza" or "odin malenki" or whatnot, and I was surprised that the workers weren't confused.


The plain cheese pizza had tomato slices on it, which I ate. Irene got some sort of wrap that she didn't like and she insisted on having a pizza like Sophia's, which she eventually got. I'm glad to see that someone else is a picky eater.


Next we went to the "5-Dimensional Theater" and once again Irene's father paid and her parents waited while we visited. The movie was about sharks, and we put on 3-D glasses so that it appeared as if the sharks and other marine animals were coming right at us. To add to the experience, our seats moved, even jerked, so we felt like we were really in submarines. Then we came out of the water and --splash!--we dove back in and were actually sprayed with water. It was a fun experience, but who really wants to get wet when it's below 0 (Celsius) outside? The heating system at Duman is not spectacular, and we were rather cold without our winter coats (that we had checked).


Then it was time for Irene's father to return to work. Sophia wanted to stay; Irene wanted to be with Sophia. We finally decided that Sophia and I would return to Irene's apartment, so that they could play. I was quite pleased that they were so eager to be together.

Sophia Turns 7 - Part 1 - Thursday, 12 November 2009



What is it like to celebrate your 7th birthday one month after moving to a foreign country where almost nobody speaks your native language?


(Picture is of Sophia playing in the snow outside Duman Center. She wrote her name in the snow with her feet.)


I was rather concerned about what it would be like, especially after she had a long Skype talk with a Greenville friend on Sunday--she had a great, one-hour talk (they ended up playing with their stuffed animals over Skype) but when it ended, she said she didn't want to have a birthday. Why? Because she had no friends, no one would give her presents.


She went up and down during the week about her excitement for her birthday. We woke up at 7 am on 12 November so she could Skype her friend before her friend's bedtime on Wednesday night. I had had difficulty wrapping her presents the night before--the only wrapping paper I had found during my Saturday excursion was over 1000 Tenge, so I had not bought any--but in the end was proud of what I did with the little resources I had. One present was wrapped in the large sheet of paper that had come with the clothes-dryer rack; another present was wrapped in a scarf and tied with a sparkly ribbon (that I had accidentally brought with me from the States). I put these presents next to the large stuffed dog (unwrapped) on her windowsill, and closed the curtains.


Christie had given her a bag with a present inside the day before, and Sophia had carried that bag with her everywhere, peeking in enough to see that it was something pink. I put that next to the presents.


So when she woke up, I told her to look by her window, and she could see her presents and the dog.


She was quite pleased with the dog; however, I would not let her open any presents or eat the cake until later in the day. We had plans for part of the day, but I wanted something to do during the later part of the day. I would have preferred there to be school on this day, so she could bring cake to school and celebrate there--a bit merrier than just mommy and me.


We did have plans--I had planned to take her to Duman Center and the aquarium. The day before, Lynn had run into Irene's parents and told them about Sophia's birthday and got the dad's phone number, which she proudly handed over to me. I had called him and he agreed to take Irene to Duman at 11:30. So Sophia would have one other child to celebrate her birthday!


We took Bus 35 and sat anxiously by the foggy windows, unsure exactly where our stop would be. It was a long ride, over the river, past Beyterek, and on and on. I hoped that we had not missed our stop. Christie had said I would recognize it because it is across the street from the circus, which is in a circular building. It's amazing how many circular buildings there are.


Finally I saw the letters "Думан" --Duman-- and knew our stop would be next.


We exited and played in the snow for over half an hour, waiting for Irene. Finally I was freezing and tried to call her father. Well, the number I had would not work. Later I would learn that to dial a cell phone from a cell phone you must first dial a plus sign (+). Really? How odd. (Everybody who I have called has called me first, and I have simply saved their number in my phone; hence, I've never had to pay attention to the +.)


As I was calling Lynn to double-check the phone number, Irene showed up with her mother and father. They would spend the day with us. I had half expected that the driver would drop Irene off. I had taken plenty of money, unsure of how expensive at day at Duman with two young girls would be.


I am not very forceful when it comes to money; Irene's father quickly strode over to the payment booth and bought us entrance tokens before I could say anything. It was nice being with another foreigner, as his Russian is worse than mine, and we tried to enter but were told we couldn't--we needed to check our coats first. So off came the heavy coats, the scarves, the hats, the gloves, etc, etc. Then we entered the main complex.

Saturday, November 21, 2009

Baking - Wednesday, 11 November 2009


We woke up this morning to two wonderful things: (1) warmer weather and (2) snow!


In South Carolina that would be a contradiction, but here it was a fact. How nice it was to have light, powdery snow and at the same time not feel like you're freezing to death! Our autumn clothes can handle -5 degrees Celsius just fine.


So after school we played in the snow and then went to the grocery store to buy butter, sugar, and eggs, amongst other things. Then we returned home and I set about to baking.


I had recipes from the States and ingredients from Kazakhstan. I had one liquid measuring cup--from the US--and to measure teaspoons and tablespoons I had a small liquid measuring cap--one that came with a Children's Liquid Tylenol in the US. I thankfully had the internet and was able to figure out how many teaspoons are in a tablespoon, as the measuring cap only did teaspoons.


First, I attempted pancakes. My frying pan is crummy and the handle is a bit wobbly; my only spatula is a "skimmer" (at least that's the English translation of the Russian word that Sophia learned). I have no mixer. I had to guess at which kind of butter and flour to use.


My first pancake tasted fine, and that gave me encouragement to continue. In the end, even Sophia liked them, and my only mistake was putting the burner on too hot. The outsides burned while the insides remained runny. That's a mistake I can easily fix in the future!


I posted my results on facebook, describing the equipment & ingredients I had used to make these pancakes. "Hooray for pancakes in Kazakhstan!" I wrote. I was surprised to see that so many people were interested in my pancake-making attempt, and soon my friends were having a discussion about the kind of flour I had used. Eventually, my cousin asked a Russian friend, who translated the kind of flour I was using as a kind of wheat flour, what the Russians use for "all-purpose flour." Hooray--because "all-purpose flour" was the kind of flour I had wanted.


Encouraged by my success, I decided to attempt an American-style yellow cake. Sophia, ever the picky eater, has yet to find a cake in Astana that she likes--and she's had plenty of tastes of different cakes, due to so many birthdays. So I decided to make her one.


Christie had a cake pan from Canada that she let us borrow, and then I set about to making the cake. First, of course, I had to wash & dry dishes, as I don't have extra bowls or measuring cups and they were dirty from the pancakes.


I had baking soda, and an on-line search informed me that while butter can be substituted for shortening (I had no shortening), baking soda cannot be substituted for baking powder (unless you happen to have cream of tartar and soda on hand, which of course I did not). Luckily I had bought a little packet of "разрыхлитель" (razrikhlitel). Several weeks ago, I bought Sophia a Barbie magazine, and in the magazine I noticed a recipe for cupcakes. "разрыхлитель" was one of the ingredients and google translated that as "baking powder." So I when I saw that in the store, I bought it.


So I did my best with the cake, and after a while of stirring by hand I was beginning to doubt whether I'd ever bake again. But when the cake was finished, I was quite happy to have attempted baking. I also made buttercream frosting, following a recipe I much adored in the States. Half a pound of butter, half a pound of shortening (for which I substituted butter), a pound of powdered sugar, a dab of vanilla, and a couple tablespoons of milk. The key to this recipe is texture--whipping it to death. Again, my arm got extremely tired. And some of the blue paint from the cheap plastic bowl got into the frosting.


After you make a cake, you need to decorate it, and luckily I remembered that we had gummy bears lying around. So I got out the gummy bears and let Sophia make a "7" on the cake out of the bears. She used only red ones, and she made a European 7 (crossed at the middle).


How hard it is not to try the cake before her birthday! I just hope it tastes good!

Slip-Sliding on the Way Home - Tuesday, 10 November 2009

When you're from the southern USA, like we are, you just don't see much snow or ice. So for now, at least, cold weather is fun (albeit freezing). Tuesday I convinced Sophia to walk home instead of taking the bus--as much as I love Bus 14, it can be a frustrating ride home. Bus 14 drops us off a little bit closer to our home than Bus 4 does, so that should make it a good thing. However, halfway through the short route from school to home, it frequently stops so the drivers can change--or so people can change buses. Sometimes all you have to do is wait a few minutes on a warm bus; sometimes all you have to do is get off and onto another one. Monday we had to get off and wait in the freezing cold for about 10 minutes. We could have walked home faster.


So on Tuesday, when I saw Bus 4 drive off before we got to the stop, I knew I wasn't in the mood to wait potentially ten minutes for Bus 14 to arrive, and then risk having to get off and wait another 10 minutes for drivers to change or whatnot. I told Sophia that there must be ice on the way home, so let's walk.


Sophia doesn't like to walk home. But she does like to slide on ice. And, as I had suspected, there was plenty of ice on the way home. All the snow had melted well over a week ago, and although it's been freezing cold--usually between -7 and -20 degrees Celsius--there hasn't been any precipitation, hence no snow. But there was ice!


I had instructed her to always test ice by tapping it with her toes before stepping on it--and to test every step. Last week she had walked on some ice, only to have it break and she found herself knee-deep in mud. Ew! (She wasn't too upset, I was though.)


So we tested the ice and soon I found myself joining in the fun. There were long stretches of ice off the sides of the road, and we started running and sliding. She fell a few times, but when you're having fun, you don't mind.


In the end the walk took about 40 minutes, but that was because we were having fun. I didn't see anyone else having fun. Were we just foreigners and that made the ice so enticing? Or do we just know how to have fun?


My Toilet Breaks - Insert Curse Words Here - Monday, 9 November 2009


Monday afternoon I was using the toilet when the toilet paper (which I keep on the toilet tank) fell--a usual occurrence. However, then a very unusual (hopefully!!) thing happened--water started spraying all over the bathroom! It was like a downpour in the bathroom.


I raced out of the bathroom and watched the torrent as I considered my next move. I figured out that although it appeared to be raining down, it actually was spraying up--coming from a pipe behind the toilet. The water was hitting and bouncing off the ceiling with such force that it appeared to be raining. I wasn't in the mood to get my clean clothes wet or risk having my contacts wash out, but I had little choice. Into the toilet-room I ran and quickly found and turned off the faucet that was causing the problem.


Problem fixed? Nope, as I soon discovered that turning the faucet had turned off the water to my toilet.


Ah... What had happened was that the toilet paper roll had bumped into the pipe that carries water into the toilet tank, for flushing. Thankfully, this means that the room was flooded with clean water, not sewage! Un-thankfully, the pipe had broken and was not fixable. Water could not get to my toilet tank, and my toilet could not be flushed.


Also, due to the price of towels here, I had very few towels. Yet I had an inch or more of water on my bathroom floor, plus the walls and door were soaking. I have no spare cloths or old clothes or rags or paper towels or anything of the sort, either.


I called the principal, who said he'd call the handyman, and as he was saying when the handyman might appear, my phone disconnected. Oops, I'd run out of money when I let Sophia talk to her friend Sunday evening.


I'm getting frustrated with this mobile phone system. I used to think SIM cards and pay-as-you go were a great idea. But I think I much prefer paying every month, via automatic payment of my credit card, in exchange for a fixed number of minutes, with the ability to use more minutes and pay at the end of the month, is a much better system. I can manage my finances. I don't go over my minutes. But at least, in the American system, I have the option to go over should I suddenly desperately need to use the phone!


I called the principal's home number (unlimited free local calls to land lines) and got no answer. So I called another teacher (land line) and asked him to call or text the principal to call me back. At least on this system, you don't pay to answer your mobile phone.


Instead of calling me, the principal showed up at my door to look at my toilet. He said that the handyman had already gone off work, and I should remind him to call tomorrow. In the meantime, he tried to explain to me how to flush my toilet, however I think he (a) was embarrassed to talk about going potty and flushing and (b) didn't know the English word for 'flush.' So I wasn't sure what he was trying to say I could do--pour water down the toilet bowl? Would that really work to flush the toilet?


So I'm grateful I have Internet, as I emailed my parents with my question--it was morning for them. I also googled 'how to flush a toilet' which got quite a few videos on how to flush a normal toilet--I guess that's humorous for some people. However, I also got a site that said you could pour a bucket full of water quickly down the bowl to mimic flushing.


My parents were not so sure that that method would work at all. However, I had to try something--the flush-button (not a handle, as in the US) is on the lid of the toilet tank, so I was unable to lift the lid and pour water into the tank. So I tried pouring water down the toilet bowl, and miraculously, not only did it work, but it flushed better than the usual method! ( Probably because I used more water.)


In other good news, after we went to the grocery store and returned, most of the water had dried. Hooray for extremely dry climates.


Tuesday we hurried home to wait for the handyman to come at 2:00. By 4:30 he had not arrived, and I knew that he stopped working at 5:30! I still didn't have minutes on my phone (having rushed home from school and not stopped to by a card to add minutes) so I called the school, and the secretary put me through to the principal. I interrupted a meeting he was having, but oh well. He called the handyman, who said he was on his way.


The guy arrived only a few minutes later, saw the problem, bought a new pipe, fixed it and was gone.


So now I have a working toilet. And I have to clean the entire toilet room again, due to it having been sprayed with water. And the flush works very poorly, probably because I fiddled with the tank in my attempt to figure out how to flush without a working pipe.


In America, pipes don't break because toilet paper rolls fall on them. In America, I can fix a slightly-messed up flush by lifting the lid to the tank.

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

The 10 - 15 Minute Break - November 2009


So, the school day is divided into "lessons" (or periods, as Americans would call them) much like high school, with 10-minute breaks in between. Except that the kids usually aren't going anywhere--to another classroom, to a locker to change books--like in high school. So the kids just run around and get wound up.


One day last week, the Russian vice principal informed my assistant to inform me that in 1st grade, the lessons are only 35 minutes long. Apparently, someone figured out that 1st graders can't sit still for 40 minutes and decided that their lessons should be shorter. What does this mean? That after 35 minutes, I should stop teaching, but not let the children out of the room, as break hasn't officially begun. They should hang out in the classroom, quietly, doing no work, until the music sounds for the break to begin. Then they have the 10-minute break.


What?!?


Don't worry, I know--as does any decent teacher--that 1st graders can't sit still for 40 minutes. They can't sit still for 35 minutes. That's why I don't stand in the front of the room, lecturing for 40 minutes. Giving them an extra five minutes--to do NOTHING--is not going to help with any learning or behavior!


I talked to the principal about the breaks. I said that I'd rather get the children at the beginning of the day for several hours; consolidate the breaks and give them a recess, for heavens' sake! He was a bit surprised. But children can't handle 80-minute lessons, he said. I think I did a decent job of explaining myself--that I am a competent enough teacher to mix up my lessons and to give them a break when I see that they need one. If they need a break after only 5 minutes of work, then I can give them one--a short, supervised break (such as a stand-and-stretch or a walk to the bathrooms). If they are able to sit still for 30 minutes, then so be it... But I want to be able to manage my own class and give breaks when they need it, not when I am told to do so. If I finish a lesson early, then I can move on to another lesson, or give a break then before starting the next one. So much time is wasted with these 35 to 40 minute lessons.


Nothing's changed in the schedule, of course, but maybe, if I keep my fingers crossed, someone will have sense by next year. (Technically, I don't think they can change the schedule, once it's been pre-approved by the Kazakh Ministry of Education. That's why we can't teach more than 8 hours of English a week. We've only been approved for 8 hours, no more, no less.)

Monday, November 16, 2009

Autumn Break - Monday through Wednesday, 9 through 11 November 2009

Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday were "supplementary" classes--40 minute tutoring sessions in English, Math and Kazakh, for students selected by the teachers as needing extra help. We had a schedule--my class, 1B, would get English for two 40-minute periods, then math for 1 period, then Kazakh language for two more. There would be the usual, impractical 10-minute breaks between periods. And the final lessons ended at 1:00 pm.


Technically, the school could not inform parents or require students to come. The administration posted a schedule and list of the students we'd selected. The Kazakh teachers wrote in the students' "diary"--homework notebook.

I remembered summer school at my school in South Carolina, how usually about half the students selected attended. After the first day or two, the administration would start calling parents. Summer school was relaxed and casual--and much needed for those students who attended. And a good way for teachers to make extra pay.


So I was wondering what this would be like. (No extra pay, however!) Sophia and I took the bus with Valerie and arrived at about 8:45, 15 minutes before the first period.


Our classrooms were dark. The teacher's lounge was dark (and empty). Worse, our classroom doors were locked.


We unloaded and waited in the teacher's lounge. Finally we wandered down the hall and started talking to other foreign teachers. I gave a DVD to Lynn, who had wanted to show an English-language movie to her students during this time.


I made it back to my classroom and had about four students.


Each of those three days, I had more students than the other teachers. I had four the first day, about seven the second, and five on Wednesday. However, I never had any fifth graders. Each day I asked in the teacher's lounge on the 3rd floor and was told that there were no 5th grade students. However, on Tuesday, nearing 1:00, I saw in the hallway Ingrid, my Turkish girl who is very weak. What? Didn't she know that she was supposed to be in class? Why hadn't I been told that I had a student?


On Wednesday I asked about her, and a Kazakh teacher found her for me. However, the Turkish English teacher wanted her in the canteen for a picnic. Not about to ruin her fun--or my break--I let her go. Yes, she desperately needs math help. But 40 minutes with her and a restless Sophia wasn't going to make that much of a difference. She needs English help as well.


Alex's father had called me during the Teacher's Field Trip to ask if I could tutor Alex on different days, due to the family's going out of town. He would be back on Wednesday, but not Monday or Tuesday. Well, Thursday would be Sophia's birthday, so no way, and Friday was the day the landlady had said Nikita might come back to fix the windows (a crack in a window on the patio). And Saturday is out of the question. I said we'd talk about it on Wednesday. When I mentioned the conversation to the vice principal, he said I did not have to tutor Alex outside of the regularly scheduled time.


He dropped Alex off on Wednesday after 1st period. I assumed that this was so the Kazakh teacher to tutor him, as she had also requested to tutor him alone--like me, she can't handle him with other students. But she ignored him and he sat in my classroom and yelled. He wasn't too bad, primarily because at that point we were watching starfall.com (awesome web site for kids learning how to read and ESOL kids too) using the new projector.


For math on Tuesday and Wednesday, I brought in cereal to practice addition and subtraction--most of my kids are whizzes at it and can do worksheets filled with dozens of problems, but these are the kids who don't get the concept. They really had fun with the cereal, and a few of them seemed to finally catch on. Ryan ate up all his cereal on Tuesday and didn't get more until I passed out more to all the students. He sulked for a good bit, but learned not to eat until he was told! Alex ate up all his cereal on Wednesday, and sulked too.


Ryan came late on Monday, so I didn't have him, but on Tuesday he came on time. While I was attempting to set up the projector, the kids got wild, of course, and Ryan started screaming--and refused to stop, even once I gave up on the projector and had the students take out their English notebooks and write their ABCs. I couldn't talk to him to get him to stop, I couldn't threaten him with a punishment or promise a reward (he wouldn't understand me), so I tried to get him to leave the classroom--a strategy I've used in the US. Simply moving a screaming child can disrupt their momentum and stop the screaming; moving a screaming child can also help the rest of the class concentrate; and I can attempt to talk (in this case, use gestures) with a child in the hallway without disrupting the entire class.


Ryan decided to pull an Alex, and he struggled mightily. What can I do with these kids? I can't reason with them, I can't explain things to them, I can't punish them, the rewards I've been using (stars and stickers) don't work on the worst offenders. Just then the principal walked by the classroom and saw me struggling. He got an assistant, who came in and yelled at the class in Russian. Pretty soon, they were all quietly working at their desks, except for Ryan, who was quietly sulking at his desk.


Wednesday during the silly 10-minute break between lessons, I noticed that Ryan had not done his work. So I tried to call him back into the room to finish. Matthew laughed at him, causing him to chase Matthew around the hallway, so I dragged Matthew back into the room too. Ryan must have thought that he was in trouble, and when he realized that I wasn't backing down from my order to return to the classroom, he ran into a corner and cried. I had to get my Kazakh teacher to talk to him--"Tell him he's not in trouble!" I said to her--but he still took about an hour to calm down enough to get back to work.


Matthew is another story. He's second worse in the class, behavior-wise, but really, I think a large part of his problem is the language. Yes, children have this amazing capacity to learn languages, and it's amazing how quickly a child can pick up a new language. But that is not all children!!! Children, like adults, differ. Some children quickly pick it up, some move steadily along, some struggle mightily and become very frustrated.


When I was getting Matthew to count in English, he said some words that were completely incomprehensible to me. Thinking that maybe he was counting in Kazakh, I said something to the Kazakh teacher. No, she said, that wasn't Kazakh or Russian; he does that a lot--when asked to repeat, says something completely different. He can't pronounce his words right, even in his native tongue.


And we're asking him to get it right in three different languages!


End point--learning a language can be so much harder for some people!! And Matthew definitely falls into that category! Sometimes he gets frustrated and "copies" me--just mumbling nonsense words.


These extra three days helped, but not greatly. He's still confused and still would rather spit in my face or mumble nonsense words than do his work.


Sophia spent these three days mostly bored, yet highly cooperative until about 1 pm. She sat in my class and participated, getting a bit grumpy once when I had to tell her to not answer my questions until the others have had a chance. I know that she knows what a pond is, what a tree is!


On Monday I sent her to Christie's room for the math lesson; however, on Tuesday and Wednesday I let her stay with me. She enjoyed adding and subtracting using cereal.


I didn't stay late and work any of those days, in part because Sophia was so bored and restless. Also, I had expected lunch to be served at 1 pm, but no lunch was served. That was enough to send me home!


My assistant was rather bored, and who came blame her? Why did she have to come in? She had nothing to do.


I think that if they want to do tutoring over break, they should (a) tell the teachers before they sign a contract; and (b) pay the teachers who tutor. It isn't a bad idea, just nobody--kids or teachers alike--were motivated to do much over the break.


Sunday, November 15, 2009

Cleaning the Bathroom - Sunday, 8 November 2009


"Be careful what you wish for." Since about my 2nd week here, I have wished for a working light in the bathroom. Now I have it. Now I can look at my shower, with the bright glare of a new light bulb to help me. I can see the absolute filth and grime that lines my shower's edges. What is that black stuff?


I think I preferred showering in the dark.


I had noticed that it was dirty my first week here; however I had other concerns then. Then it went dark. So there wasn't much to do.


By the way, 'dirty' is an inadequate word to describe my shower. 'Dirty' implies dirt, which is brown and can be scrubbed.


Parts of the shower are dirty--the shower door slides open and closed, and the door--especially along the top railing--is dirty. The shower tiles are dirty--grimy perhaps is the better word?--and the shower faucet is dirty--rusty? But the bottom railing where the shower door slides is brown and parts of it is filled with black.


Where the shower bottom meets the wall, there is something that perhaps was put there to seal it, to keep the water from running out. This something is black.


So Friday Christie showed me where the bleach is in the supermarket, and Sunday I set about to cleaning the shower.


Luckily, Sophia was quite amused by computer games the entire time.


First, I cleaned the toilet room. I figured that after an hour or so of attempting the clean the shower, I would be fed up, so I should start with something clean-able. So I would have something to show for my efforts.


Then, I cleaned the bathroom, starting with the sink and the walls first (under the same theory).


Finally, I began to work on the shower. As I had suspected, after an hour of hard work, I had little to show in my shower. It was still black and disgusting.


I had "Mr. Muscle"and bleach that I'm not sure it pure bleach--it didn't have the same smell or burn my bare skin like real bleach. I sprayed and scrubbed. I was glad that I had found a bucket in the kitchen porch.


Finally, I poured bleach all over the edges of the shower. I waited and sprayed with water. Although quite a bit of black gunk escaped hidden corners and went down the drain, not much happened in terms of how the shower looked. It still looked just as disgustingly gross as before.


If you ever happen to visit and use my shower, do like I do and don't touch the sides. Which is really hard, considering how small my shower is. (Shaving legs is an acrobatic feat.) (Or do like I do and pray for a shower-cleaning miracle.)


So, several hours after I had started cleaning, I had a cleaner toilet, slightly cleaner sinks, cleaner bathroom floors, and a shower that most likely is cleaner although it does not look so.


Next week, I'll try some more.

Saturday, November 14, 2009

A Birthday in Kazakhstan - Saturday, 7 November 2009


The Filipino teachers insisted that we celebrate Christie's birthday, which was fine by me. Christie made spaghetti for dinner, and she had Parmesan cheese (from Canada) and so Sophia ate two helpings. I think the other teachers brought cake, and Christie served tea and hot chocolate (also from Canada) after dinner.


We only stayed for a few hours, and left dishes for Christie to wash--what a birthday present!--but it was fun and we had a good time laughing. The two guy teachers and Sophia hit it off, being as silly as could be, with everyone else watching and laughing. Then they went into the other room, still laughing, and I had a good conversation with two of the teachers. I'm ready to visit the Philippines, and I hope that Sophia and I will be able to make it there at the end of the school year--but before July, when typhoon season starts.


We left around 7 pm, so some of the teachers could use my Internet connection before it was too late in the Philippines (the Philippines are two hours ahead of Astana). I guess the connection in their apartment--using my wireless or somebody else's--is not that great, and I had three people in my house using the Internet. I felt much better about having left Sophia with them for 4 hours--I've definitely given them more than 4 hours of Internet time. The good thing about being a foreigner in a strange country--foreigners stick together. You help me, I help you. It's definitely needed, and it's definitely appreciated.