Yeah, We're Getting A Little Tired Of The Green Outfit, Too
Woke up at 6:30, couldn’t get back to sleep, so got up and checked e-mail. I then tried once more to decode the washing machine/dryer combo, which seems to have about 20 settings -- your clothes either wash but don’t spin, and water spills out when you open door, or you put the soap in wrong drawer and your clothes cycle without soap. We’ll probably get it figured out just before we leave.
At 8:00 thought I’d go out and get some fruit and bread for breakfast, but in a town that seems to go all night, nobody’s open at 8 except the local coffee bar, which hadn’t received its bread yet. So back home and back to reading Robert Caro’s The Power Broker, his bio of Robert Moses, a book I’ve always meant to get to. I’ve read all of Caro’s LBJ books and have been sucked in by each one. CD, her partner John, and my friend and colleague Bob Gaffey have been telling me for years, “I can’t believe you haven’t read it.” Well the book is, as John says, “a marvel,” and at 1300 pages should hold me for a while. CD wakes at 9, hits her e-mail, I take some snaps of apartment for blog, and CD posts some observations of Almaty with them. We head to market to buy diapers and provisions and head to orphanage at 2:00. (CD: Personally, I don’t understand this fascination with the chronology, but whatever.)
Otis is kind of out of it today; it’s a little muggy, (nothing like what you’re dealing with in NYC), and he’s lethargic and a bit cranky. Not many smiles, we read him Dr. Seuss’ The Fox in Socks (anyone detect a theme here?), he’s somewhat attentive, plays with some toys, but he’s not really interested. I lie down and sit him up on my chest, first he slides up and wraps his legs around my neck and tries to hug me while choking me, then lies back and looks up at ceiling lights. Ceiling lights fascinate him. One thing is clear, he wants to be held. (CD: He has us pegged as the people who give cuddles.)
We sit a desk and show Otis photo album with pix of house, friends, family; he looks at each one and pounds his fist on them. Nurse comes in at 3:30, 45 minutes early, and tries to retrieve him. Zoya, for once, protests. Nurse goes on to say we only brought one diaper today, and we need to bring three. Zoya responds that yesterday the nurse’s supervisor told us to only bring one, nurse shrugs and leaves. (CD: When we started it was four. Who cares? How about a number that says the same and everyone is happy with?)
Now Otis is getting sleepy, his usual time, so I cradle him in my arms and sing him a cowboy lullaby, “I Ride an Old Paint,” which he’s taken a liking to, and he nods off.
Sagat takes us to Green Bazaar, where we pick up five thick loin pork chops for about $9, a kilo of potatoes for 40 cents, a kilo of onions for 50 cents, etc. Then to supermarket which carries about 300 brands of Russian vodka; I pick up two Sagat recommends, one with honey & peppers, and one called Rostoff. I ask him about Raki (CD: He’s given up on finding grappa) and he makes a spitting motion and says “for the Turks.” We head home so CD can cook, while we drink beer and blog.
P.S. Elliott and Barbara N.: Even Zoya, in a country where people wear the same nice clothes repeatedly rather than lots of not so nice clothes, thinks the recurrence of the green outfit is a bit excessive.
At 8:00 thought I’d go out and get some fruit and bread for breakfast, but in a town that seems to go all night, nobody’s open at 8 except the local coffee bar, which hadn’t received its bread yet. So back home and back to reading Robert Caro’s The Power Broker, his bio of Robert Moses, a book I’ve always meant to get to. I’ve read all of Caro’s LBJ books and have been sucked in by each one. CD, her partner John, and my friend and colleague Bob Gaffey have been telling me for years, “I can’t believe you haven’t read it.” Well the book is, as John says, “a marvel,” and at 1300 pages should hold me for a while. CD wakes at 9, hits her e-mail, I take some snaps of apartment for blog, and CD posts some observations of Almaty with them. We head to market to buy diapers and provisions and head to orphanage at 2:00. (CD: Personally, I don’t understand this fascination with the chronology, but whatever.)
Otis is kind of out of it today; it’s a little muggy, (nothing like what you’re dealing with in NYC), and he’s lethargic and a bit cranky. Not many smiles, we read him Dr. Seuss’ The Fox in Socks (anyone detect a theme here?), he’s somewhat attentive, plays with some toys, but he’s not really interested. I lie down and sit him up on my chest, first he slides up and wraps his legs around my neck and tries to hug me while choking me, then lies back and looks up at ceiling lights. Ceiling lights fascinate him. One thing is clear, he wants to be held. (CD: He has us pegged as the people who give cuddles.)
We sit a desk and show Otis photo album with pix of house, friends, family; he looks at each one and pounds his fist on them. Nurse comes in at 3:30, 45 minutes early, and tries to retrieve him. Zoya, for once, protests. Nurse goes on to say we only brought one diaper today, and we need to bring three. Zoya responds that yesterday the nurse’s supervisor told us to only bring one, nurse shrugs and leaves. (CD: When we started it was four. Who cares? How about a number that says the same and everyone is happy with?)
Now Otis is getting sleepy, his usual time, so I cradle him in my arms and sing him a cowboy lullaby, “I Ride an Old Paint,” which he’s taken a liking to, and he nods off.
Sagat takes us to Green Bazaar, where we pick up five thick loin pork chops for about $9, a kilo of potatoes for 40 cents, a kilo of onions for 50 cents, etc. Then to supermarket which carries about 300 brands of Russian vodka; I pick up two Sagat recommends, one with honey & peppers, and one called Rostoff. I ask him about Raki (CD: He’s given up on finding grappa) and he makes a spitting motion and says “for the Turks.” We head home so CD can cook, while we drink beer and blog.
P.S. Elliott and Barbara N.: Even Zoya, in a country where people wear the same nice clothes repeatedly rather than lots of not so nice clothes, thinks the recurrence of the green outfit is a bit excessive.
posted by Candace and David at 6/30/2005 09:34:00 AM
8 Comments:
As much as I am tired of the green outfit and would like to see Otis in something else - he looks more comfortable/cooler in it then the flannel pjs!
Nicole
Karen and Nicole, David and I were talking today outside this Blog. I was telling him how I longed to treat Otis to some nifty colored outfits.
It occurred to me (and David agreed) that there is a risk of overwhelming young Otis when he first breaks free of K'Stan. This mighty host of friends and family are all going to want to regale him like the prince royal, and essentially to eat him alive. I for one am already in love with the kid, and I am not even family!
So David and Candace, you will have to rein me in when my exuberance starts to exceed my reason! :-)
I'm going to buy toys only, because little boys don't give a hoot about their clothes. Otis would be happy in a diaper and a onesie; it's only adults who care about cute little outfits. Aunts are shameless corrupters.
I'm taking a break from white paper revisions and I just read your section on Almaty's Central Park-Shola and I in the process of working it into our next Miami presentation! CD-we missed you at the HR&A party on Tuesday, but don't worry Cary and I drank your quota of wine for you. Stay well. I'm looking forward to meeting the little man in green.
-Court
As far as the smoking goes, and I know you know, it makes me jealous every time I see or even think about you having a cigarette. After I read your post this week I seriously considered buy a pack. I'm not going to sign my name, you know who I am....
I have to say, I love reading the blog -- I check it several times a day and read all of the comments. The thing that thrills and delights me is the wonderful community that Otis will be borne into. And I know that some people haven't been posting (e.g., Joe and Tina, but they call every day). I can't wait to meet Otis; I can't wait for him to join the conversation.
Various things:
1. Clothes would be nice, so would toys. Since he is eight months old, and we are VERY OLD according to the KZ folks, we can manage the possible overload.
2. I am THRILLED that Almaty is going to make an appearance in Miami. That was a very happy-making post.
3. We have a car seat; we will buy a cheap carrier/stroller here; my mom and dad (C's) are buying us a good one.
4. Lay off the smoking. I mean it. We have promised ourselves that Otis will never see us smoke, which means that to the varying extents that we still are, we're quitting totally while here. Those of you have smoked know how hard it is to quit, and how, 20-30 years later (per my mom and dad), you still miss it. Absolutely nothing can be done about the past and our genetics and the effect of whatever number of years we have already smoked.
David, I guess we're gonna have to start hanging out in each other's offices. That will be novel!
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