California 2

We went to Sacramento primarily to see my dad, but our trip gave us a couple of other delightful opportunities in addition. We spent an afternoon with our friends Lonnie and Rocky, whom we hadn’t seen in far too long. It felt just like home to be back together with them. Lonnie and I have been lifelong friends, and it’s always special to spend time with her because we have so much in common. I wasn’t sure about commonalities with our other Sacramento visit. I wanted to see Walter Borland, whom I knew in elementary school. He and I didn’t get along so well in the first few years, mostly because he was cool and I was not. He had Levi’s jeans, and teased me about my Billy the Kid jeans. My family couldn’t afford Levi’s.

I had thought about Walter without warning one morning a couple of months prior. It seemed to me that we’d just begun to learn to get along about the time we graduated sixth grade, and I wondered whatever happened to him. I didn’t have a lot of trouble finding him on Facebook, and he seems to be quite the man about town in Sacramento now. He’s friendly and has maintained strong connections with lots of old friends. He jumped at the opportunity to get together, and volunteered to drive wherever necessary to meet me. We had breakfast together and continued to chat for a couple of hours. I really like him now.

We spent most of the rest of our time in California with Nika and Tim, though we managed to see my cousin Susan one of those evenings too. Nika still works in the Asian Museum, so she got us free entry for a day of art there and an evening of art at the De Young Museum. I didn’t know anything about the Asian Museum until Nika started working there, and I like it a lot now. They always have interesting exhibits, and I like to see what’s new every time we’re in town.

Finally, for our last weekend in California, Nika and Tim took us to a delightful inn in Mendocino. I barely knew this beautiful town on the north coast of the State, and Alla had never been there. By the time we left, she was so enthralled that she took with her a brochure from a house we saw for sale. I certainly would enjoy living in Mendocino, but especially if it weren’t so remote. I suppose it feels so special because it’s so hard to reach. I don’t think there are any easy ways to get there unless you own your own plane.

We picnicked, strolled the streets and ate together. We also took a couple of nature walks out to more remote areas, including a place called Glass Beach, which was once a garbage dump. The organic garbage has rotted away, no doubt a bunch of stuff floated away, and now we’re left with a beach paved with worn pellets of broken glass. It’s very pretty.

Overall, we had a great time in California and we left a bunch of people unseen and desires unfulfilled. We’ve already booked a return visit when the Taiwan exhibit opens up at the Asian Museum and I’m diligently looking for a way to make sense of a move to California while Alla is still excited about it. I’d love to be closer to family.

Glass Beach

California 1

As soon as we got back to Boston, we left town again. We were eager to see family in California, and only waited a few days to move on. We have plenty of people to see there, and barely got started this time, so I guess we’ll have to go back.

On this trip, we started out in Woodside, spending a weekend with John and Meredith. It’s hard to explain who they are to me, but Johnny often feels like the son I never had. As a huge added bonus, he married Meredith. It’s no surprise, then, that their son James is great too. We always like seeing them, and each visit feels like “the best.” We didn’t do much. We didn’t have to. We cooked a little. We hiked a little more. Johnny and I went to the hardware store, where I was pleased to learn that I could have bought a package of live bugs if I needed any. California is a wonderful place.

From 2016-04 To USA

We hit California at the exact right moment, too. The drought is finally more or less over, and the hills are all green. They’ll dry out and turn “golden” very soon, but while we were there, we saw green vistas everywhere. Alla reveled in the biodiversity. We took a wonderful little hike in the hills above Woodside. Sometimes James walked too, but mostly he rode happily in a backpack. He’s a great companion, with a healthy respect for the pleasures of mud.

Johnny’s sister Susie came over with her husband and kids on Sunday afternoon. I haven’t seen them often enough lately, so I was very happy that they could join the party. Their second son, Grant, is almost exactly the same age as James, but he’s bigger. They’re both very big boys. Maybe they’ll grow up to be a rowing doubles team. They’ll sure have the build for it.

On Monday we picked up a rental car, which was a whole story unto itself, and drove down to Hollister to see my cousin Nants, her husband Tim and their daughter Ila. Ila’s been living far from home for a long time, and I really enjoyed seeing her again. She’s always been thoughtful and frequently wise, so it’s fun to be around her. To be truthful, it’s great to be around all of them. Nants stayed home from work and made a bunch of individual cheese soufflés for lunch. And an apricot pie with apricots from their trees. Oh my, did we eat well, almost as well as we enjoyed their hospitality and conversation.

We hated to leave, but we still hadn’t seen our own daughter. Well, she’s really Alla’s daughter, but she’s nice about letting me claim her. We were so eager, we got to San Francisco a little bit early and had to spring Nika from work before she planned to go. Tough luck, Nika! As usual, San Francisco’s yards and parks are filled with flowers, so we went for a walk before dinner. Nika and Tim live right between San Francisco’s two largest parklands, so we always have someplace pleasant to walk. Alla and I like the ethnic grocery stores in the area too. We’d be with Nika and Tim for almost a whole week, so we had plenty of time to explore. I’ll tell you more about it later, when I also tell you about our bonus trips to Sacramento and Mendocino.

Hacking malware

I got a call yesterday from “The Windows Support Company.” I knew right away that it was one of those outfits that entice the user to put a virus onto their computer so the company can then remove it for a fee. I decided to string him along for a while, figuring I’m doing a public service if I keep him from calling another person.

The guy had an excellent script, but he lacked the skill to detect my irony. I was very amused when he told me that I had an especially virulent form of hacking malware on my computer. Wow. “Hacking malware.” I laughed and told him I was having a little trouble visualizing that, but he pressed on. He was very excited; urgent, even.

He started out by trying to figure out without directly asking, whether I have Windows or a Mac. He achieved this by asking about my keyboard, and I stretched out his investigation by describing the Windows key in terms nebulous enough that he couldn’t be sure I was talking about a Windows key or a Mac Option key. Tiring of the game, I said, “You know everything about my computer, don’t you?”

“Oh yes,” he assured me.

“Then what’s my IP address?” I asked.

“I can’t see that, but I see your Windows License Key,” he answered. “Let me prove it to you.” He proceeded to give me instructions, slowly, in painstaking detail. A dunce could not fail.

I didn’t actually type in the command he asked me to enter. Not into the command window, anyway. I typed it into my browser and found an article about the scam. I knew what he was going to tell me next. Exasperated, I told him “You’ve just asked me to look up a Class ID common to all Windows computers. You haven’t proven anything. I’ve been stringing you along here to see how long I could stretch this out, but I’ve had enough. How can you even live with yourself, scamming people for a living. Can you even sleep at night?”

“No,” he answered, “I don’t sleep very well. I’m very poor and this is the only way I can make a living.”

“I’d like to pray for you,” I countered. “Are you a Christian?” “Yes,” he said, “I am.”

I prayed aloud for him, and he told me he’d quit his job soon.

Botanical Garden

I enjoy walking around Minsk, but I’ve spent most of my time walking around the same few places. A few days ago, I decided to try something new, to get to the Botanical Garden without taking any major streets. I almost succeeded in avoiding big streets, though I had to walk for a few minutes along Platonava Street, where I stopped to visit a couple of very interesting stores: a shop selling a wide selection of traditional Belarusian fabrics and a place specializing in work clothes. I didn’t need anything from either place, but I liked the fabric store a lot. In addition to raw fabrics, they sell bed linens and table linens, so I’m sure I’ll be back.

My busy street led right up to a side door at the Botanical Garden, an entrance I’d never discovered before this. I bought myself a ticket and the lady told me I should without fail go to visit the public greenhouse. As I headed straight over, snow began falling lightly. The light powdery coating decorated what I saw and made me especially glad to be there.

I arrived at the conservatory just as a group of school kids began to leave, and by the time I’d hung up my coat and taken a few steps in, I had the place almost to myself. Noticing bird cages lining the main walkway, I decided to start by walking past the birds, parrots of various kinds. I wondered if any of them talked. Yes, in fact, they do. The chattiest of the birds greeted me as I walked up. “Privet,” he said. (“Hello.”) I answered, and we greeted each other several times before I walked away. A boy and his grandmother walked up to the cage, and the same bird rapped on the cage with is beak and asked, “Kto tam?” (“Who’s there?”) The boy rapped back, and the bird asked again, “Who’s there?” The next bird answered, something about a crocodile. Alla said they were almost quoting a cartoon dialog involving a character called Crocodile Gena.

Of course the birds served simply as extra decorations in a building dedicated to flowers and plants. Touring the building, I stopped especially to admire the plants in flower and the cactus. Near the cactus garden, I noticed a door I’d ignored on my previous visits. It turns out there’s a café here, with reasonable prices and nice-looking food, though I didn’t stay to eat because I wanted to have lunch at home. I figured I could walk down the central pathway and out the main gate, right near a subway station.

Imagine my disappointment at the main gate then, when I discovered it locked and unattended. Apparently they use only the side entrance during the winter, and I had to walk all the way back and then retrace my steps outside the long wall so I could get to the subway. The two gates are far apart, and I got pretty hungry by the time I reached home, but enjoyed a great walk and a beautiful opportunity to see the Botanical Garden in winter.

Poetry show

Zarina got invited to participate in a poetry event at the factory where she works. Nearly everybody at the factory is visually disabled in some way, and it’s a group of people I’m gradually getting to know as a volunteer guide. Because they’re dependent on each other from time to time, they’ve got a special group dynamic that I enjoy seeing and experiencing. I asked if she could get me an invitation to the performance.

Zarina finally confirmed my invitation just before the event. I’d already made other plans for the day, and felt a little bit conflicted about taking the afternoon off, but knew the moment that I walked into the room that I’d made the right choice. In addition to the people I already knew, a variety of new people came in, helping each other with their coats and finding chairs for everybody. I looked around and discovered that everybody had gotten dressed up, and wished that I’d dialed up my own outfit one more step. This show looked to be a big deal.

I knew that I’d gotten my invitation as a special privilege, so when more people arrived I gave up my seat for them and offered to stand at the back of the room. One of the hostesses could see me, and she’d have none of that. She went out with a couple of other people and brought in some more chairs and made me take a seat in the newly-added front row. I felt extra special now.

The show couldn’t have been better. Nearly everybody had memorized their poems, some of which were quite long, during the course of a month. And then they presented them with appropriate amounts of humor, passion and pathos: poems translated from Shakespeare, as well as classic Russian poets, and modern Soviet poets. I understood them well enough to enjoy them, though I found one or two of the poems a little difficult. I also had a really good time watching the teacher and master of ceremonies read a few extra poems from braille. She held her sheaf of papers sideways and strummed the text like a guitar, reading by hand as quickly as she could talk. I’ve never seen anybody read braille before, and I had no idea it could be so efficient.

I’m inspired to try to learn one of the poems myself. I’ve downloaded it and I read it aloud one time to Alla. I had a hard time with the text and need to look up a few of the words, but I’ll practice bit by bit. I wish I’d made a recording from the show, because the reader did an excellent job with this poem’s humor, pacing and inflection. I’d like to learn to approximate that.

Volunteer activities

Our friend Elena teaches English at School Number 31 and I’ve gotten to know quite a few of her students over the years. She invited me over to her classroom yesterday to talk about volunteer work. One of her students has been especially busy with a cancer-treatment facility, and she inspired her peers to help raise money in a joint project for the school and the treatment center. Knowing that I have a volunteer project of my own, she thought we’d enjoy having a chat in English.

I’m really impressed by the level these students have reached in English language. Everybody is able to speak reasonably freely and carry on conversations comfortably. We talked about cooking, because I came to visit while they were baking pastries for their fundraising project. They already knew plenty, but I was able to teach them a few new words and phrases, including “cookie sheet,” “batch” and “golden brown.” Each batch of pastries came out beautifully, but Elena wouldn’t let anybody eat one because they would be for sale today. Fortunately, however, she made an exception for me. It was delicious.

I’m really glad I came back for the bake sale and craft market. As I arrived, music spilled from an open window onto the playground beside the school. Inside, the place throbbed with activity. In the lobby, people did face painting, applied make-up, taught crafts and generally looked very happy. I rushed through the lobby, however, to see what the various classrooms had set up on the tables in a main hallway. I plunged into a sea of people and squeezed past table after table of delicious pastries, pancakes, cookies and handicrafts. I bought eight of the cookies my hosts made yesterday and far too many other goodies. Having eaten many of them on the spot, I left the hallway in a buzzy delirium of sugar and lurched into the auditorium to watch part of a student program.

When the students at School Number 31 do something, they do it with enthusiasm. Just as the whole school devoted itself to the bake sale, I think every class must have been represented in the program, though I didn’t stay to be sure. I am sure, however, that the students prepared themselves well. I had a ball spending part of the morning with them. Thanks!

To see this month's entire photo album, click here.

Fashion in Minsk

Our ever-stylish friend Tamara told us where she buys her clothes. It turns out that there are a bunch of small-time producers in Belarus that make a few garments at a time and then sell them at periodic fashion markets. I wanted to see one, so Tamara invited me to the next, a Valentine's Day extravaganza that they set up in the corridors of a small (but fancy) shopping mall.

Alla didn't really want to go. She doesn't like to shop anyway, doesn't like crowds, and prefers a more classic look. Besides, she had somewhere else to go, so I set out on my own. Walking to the mall, I enjoyed seeing festive decorations all over the city. Store managers tied vast quantities of balloons to their storefronts, and the City of Minsk set up a stage in a main square and invited vendors to sell snacks and souvenirs, and I even saw a courier delivering a huge heart-shaped box of roses.

I reached the fashion market at opening time, and the last few vendors hadn't even fully assembled their displays. I got to see everything. Most vendors limited themselves to just one rack, and each vendor's rack differed from all the others. It was a festival of originality. Shoppers began to arrive. Stylish shoppers. Interesting people. I had a good time exploring the first floor, and finally reached a caricature artist drawing portraits for free. She didn't have a client at the moment I arrived, so she invited me to sit down. I figured I'd sit still for five minutes and get an amusing picture of myself. In fact, however, I had to sit still for a lot longer than that and she captured me in a way I've never been captured before. She wanted to roll my portrait into a tube and secure it with a rubber band, but I liked the portrait way too much to roll up, so I asked her to hold it until I could go across the street and buy a frame and a plastic folder for safe travel home.

Later, Alla and our friend Elena came downtown and we went out for lunch together. Then I talked them into coming back to the fashion market. This time, the hallways were crowded and we had to squeeze between the shoppers. Only I bought anything (a scarf woven in a traditional Belarusian pattern and some chocolate truffles) but everybody had a great time.