A Look Back at the Year 2004


Mother's Day, 2004
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Season�s Greetings!

Moscow is a-light and a-swathe with festive adornments and as we count the days till the long awaited winter solstice, the land lies covered in a not-quite-virginal blanket of snow. The first seasonal greetings have fluttered in from far a-field and as the opportunities for a timely delivery of my own rapidly disappear, I sit down to paint a verbal picture of the year that was. My intention is to veer off my traditional long-winded course in favour of the short and sweet � but this aspiration may just turn into a personal �Charge of the Light Brigade�.
How quickly this year has passed by! Not too long ago, Jared remarked to me how fast time seems to slip through even his young hands: �It�s as if I inhale on Monday and when I exhale, it�s already Friday.� Astounding, what is emitted from the mouths of the youth these days. I myself tend to mark the passing of time in terms of trips taken, and this year was no exception.
The early days of 2004 saw us basking in the afterglow of a memorable visit to Vietnam, which took us along the length, if not breadth, of that magical country. A brief return to routine was followed by a visit to Hamburg in early March to mark Cord�s mother�s 75th birthday. Despite ravages to her short-term memory, recollection of long-past events remains fully intact, and together with various members of the family, we had a lovely reunion.
By the end of March, either a lack of sunlight, persistent aches and pains or a combination of both had broken my stony resolve never to embark on a singe and binge vacation, and as such, the female half of the family winged its way towards the Egyptian Riviera, �where the sun shines every day of the year � (do you hear Verdi�s Aida?). That promise was kept, and Kyra spent every sun-drenched moment in the icy pool or wading in the Red Sea (float) during eight days when the passing of time was marked chiefly by primping and preening ourselves for regular meals (bloat). I watched her from a safe distance, enjoying the warmth but shunning the sun, surf and sand. Our evenings were spent being entertained (?) by the hotel�s dubious animation team, again at the insistence of dear Kyra, who refused to leave the hall before she had wiggled away the closing number on the dance floor (what does this portend for the future?!?). The only thing that impressed me about the whole experience was the linguistic dexterity of the resort staff � even sign language was not beyond them! - and the rather agreeable company of a Hungarian physician, our gallant dinner companion on three evenings.
Berlin was next in mid-April, when I returned to run my annual SMOOTH Moves expatriation seminar for foreign service children. May Day found me north-westward bound, on a train heading towards Helsinki, where I was reunited with two dear friends, mother and daughter, from my Montreal days. We packed years into our piteously short time together, and parted with joy enveloping otherwise heavy hearts. I revived my spirits with a short stop-over in St Petersburg on my return journey. Arriving as the sun dawned on an unpeopled and breathtakingly beautiful city, I played the complete tourist - sightseeing excursions, metro, tram and bus rides, the obligatory visit to the Hermitage and all.
Returning home to Moscow, I started teaching English at an American language school, and immediately loved it. Concomitantly, I began putting the finishing touches to months of compilation work on a family biography, intended for presentation to my parents at our family reunion in Moscow this past summer. Before they all arrived, Cord stole away for a solo two-week trek through Russia�s northwest, stopping in Archangelsk, the Solovetski islands (the site of a former gulag), Petrozavodsk and St Petersburg. By mid-July, kith and kin had assembled from all corners of the globe, and a milestone birthday and festive family reunion were celebrated in fitting fashion. They all marvelled at what Moscow is/has become, we squeezed in an activity-crammed day-trip to St Petersburg, the boys set out on a male bonding trip 3 hours north of Moscow, but in addition to the more usual sights,let�s just say some of us became intimately acquainted with the vagaries of the Russian medical apparatus. The better part of the month of August was spent trying to correct a medical mishap, and all notions of vacationing after everyone was to have departed were banished - in my case, at least; Cord and Jared escaped for a 5-day angling reprieve in Astrakhan, near the Kazakh border. For those remaining in Moscow, they were some very dark days, when after a botched cataract removal operation, we watched and waited to see if my dad�s vision would be restored. Once the uncertainty was removed, Kyra and I accompanied Cord on a short business trip to Sochi, a town on the Black Sea coast. Cord made preparations for a Schroeder-Putin summit, and in between, we explored the dendrarium (others might call it an arboretum), market, and the peaks of the southern reaches of the Caucasus mountains by ski-lift; Kyra and Cord also bathed. It was just what the doctor ordered: great weather, lovely surroundings in a rather presentable resort town (Soviet monoliths notwithstanding) with a charming Mediterranean air about it. Sochi could, however, do with an increase in the number of good restaurants.
Spurred on by my newly-discovered interest in teaching English, I completed a TEFL (teaching English as a foreign language) course. I came away with the firm conviction that English is anything but the easiest language to learn and sometimes have cause to pity my ever-persevering students. I myself have learned and continue to learn remarkable things in the process, and constantly catch myself analyzing others' use of the language.
We were all quite dumbfounded soon after our return from Sochi, first by the bombings on public transportation and planes (including one headed for Sochi) and then by the siege and tragedy at Beslan. The average Russian had no live access to what was actually happening until hours after the fact during the latter incident due to local censorship. The BBC, CNN and others filled in the gaps for us.
With September came new and additional responsibilities. Jared�s creative ego made a debut this spring, and our budding fashion designer decided to produce his first �collection� for his annual school project. Along the way, he has met various Moscow fashion luminaries, most recently, Slava Zaitsev, who dressed Raisa Gorbachev in her heyday and is still going strong. Jared hopes to get his design ideas translated into something wearable in S.E. Asia while on vacation this winter. I also took on the role of PR Officer of the local International Women�s Club, and have been flexing my journalistic muscles, interviewing personalities and writing articles for the club�s newsletter and occasionally for newspapers. I�ve also tried my hand at creating websites from scratch, a time-consuming and sometimes confounding endeavour.
Kyra is a headstrong second grader, slowly and creatively coming to grips with the challenges of school. In one incident, realizing she could not solve the subtraction problems during a test, she unilaterally and surreptitiously turned them into addition equations, bringing perhaps a brief smile to her teacher�s face, but a resounding failure to her test paper. She recently lost the battle to save her tangled locks from the barber's shears, but surrender means no more tears � for the time being, at least.
Three charity bazaars and a ball are now behind me; two interviews (as subject and object), the finale of the Year of German Culture in Russia (Cord�s portfolio) � the fabulous Pina Bausch dance theatre- and the last of my holiday parties bring up the rear for this year. Renewal and relaxation in a warm, welcoming spot far from the madding crowd are what I most crave right now, but I might just have to make do with the healing waters of a Caucasus spa. Wherever the trade winds blow us, I expect to write about it upon our return.
In the interest of brevity, I have given short shrift to a number of events or omitted them completely. Follow the links (when/if they appear) or let some of our pictures tell the proverbial thousand words.
On that note, I wish you and yours moments of calm and collection in the closing days of this year, holidays filled with cheer and strength in word and deed in the new year!
Gladys
for the Moscow Meier-Klodts

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