Anya is here.

So Browler is back (for a while).

I swore to retire from blogging when we left Russia last May. But people want to see pictures of our new child (or, really, we want to show them), so I'm loading some.

Anna Jean Fach Brower was born at 11.55 on Friday, 23 March, in the same hospital as her brother: UCH, in central London. The labour hardly did justice to the word (or so it seemed from my comfortable position at Sandra's side). Sandra felt her first contraction at around 10.30; we were in a black cab at about 11.20; we got to the hospital at about 11.35; Annichka was born 20 minutes later. No drugs, no epidurals, no bathing pool; just a handful of pushes and out she came.

Sandra and Anya came home yesterday (Saturday) and she's been an incredibly easy baby for her first 55 hours or so of life outside of the womb.

Weight: 3.470 kg (about 7lbs 10 ounces for the old-fashioned/across-the-ponders).

She looks the spit of her brother at her age (and, truth be told, much like most other new-borns look).

Sandra is incredibly sane, quite rested, and recovering nicely.

Among those to thank are: the excellent midwives at UCH, the community at Goodenough College who have stepped in with efficient help (meals, etc) already; Joy and Sorway (and the love of Leon's life, Serwin, their daughter); my parents, who were down to visit this afternoon; and everyone else who, from a distance, have given much support. Sandra's mother arrives soon (and father a bit later), and she will be another excellent addition to the support network.

A word about Lev. His world might have been shattered on Friday, but he's adapting well, taking great interest in his little sister, and remains the greatest earthly joy of our lives. I hope he will soon get used to the fact that such joy is, unbelievably, able to replicate itself. Because as swiftly as this baby was born, so has another batch of parental love.

Derek

ps. The pictures are mostly self-explanatory. The sneaky one is pre-birth, showing Lev sitting atop Sandra's bump.

pps. Her first middle name, Jean, is after my beloved grandmother Brower.

Do svidaniia

Goodbye St Petersburg.

Thank you for everything.

We love you and we will miss you sorely.

What We'll Miss...

1. Friends. We had great friends here, and we made great friends. Among the Russians (in no particular order): Stas, Masha, and family; Vera, Kolya and Denis; Katya, Dima and Milana; Masha, Zhenya, Iuliia and Violetta; Lena, Leon’s favourite person ever; Tanya, our teacher; Davide and Tanya in Moscow (always there for advice and friendship, even at a distance); and others. I hate stereotypes (actually, I love them, but anyway…), but, Lord, Russians are generous people.
Among the non-Russians: Tomas, Nikki, and Aarno – friends for life; our church friends.
2. Prices: to hear live music, to eat good food, to travel on excellent transport, to buy consumables.
3. Canals, rivers, bridges, boats, waves.
4. Quiet evenings watching DVDs.
5. Pirate music and films.
6. Russian.
7. Snow.
8. White Nights.
9. Free garderobi.
10. Good tea, made well.
11. Blini on the street.
12. Freedom from telephone and bills.
13. The pram ramp on the steps down into the Metro
14. Public works getting done. Quickly.
15. Smetana.
16. Having people tell it to you straight.


Things we won’t miss

1. More dog crap than you can shake a stick at (if you wanted to).
2. Aggressive babushki.
3. Russian dubbed over English films.
4. Litter.
5. Water cutting off at inopportune times.
6. Waking Leon every night to move him into the other room.
7. The old guy with his big dog and gun downstairs.
8. Russian “driving”.
9. Russian nationalism.
10. Icy pavement.
11. Being asked for exact change during every transaction.
12. Pumping techno music. Good for nightclubs, but nowhere else.
13. Soldiers, police, and zillions of other uniformed men everywhere.
14. Having to carry your dokumenty everywhere.
15. Paperwork and pen-pushers.
16. Russian plumbing.
17. Having people tell it to you straight.

Things we won’t enjoy returning to

1. English prices.
2. Rain.
3. The Tube.
4. English centreoftheworldness.
5. Heathrow.
6. Petty crime.
7. English wankers marauding the streets.
8. English high streets.
9. Living in a fundamentally less interesting place.


Things we will enjoy returning to

1. Friends and family.
2. BBC (radio 3, radio 4, TV).
3. Proper pubs and good beer.
4. The World Cup.
5. London parks.
6. Multiculturalism.
7. Good curry.
8. Mild winters.
9. Real cheese.
10. Baby-changing facilities in public places.
11. Fresh milk.
12. Markets.

One Small Step for a (little) Man...

The footage above is of Leon taking his very first consecutive steps (and his papa exploding with pride). He's been standing without support for some time, but his first steps came during the week that he turned one year old. (Apparently, that's the same week that his father took his first steps, too.)

The amazing thing is that Ken (San's dad) was trying to figure out how to take video footage on his camera -- and the first footage he took sucessfully was of his grandson starting to walk.

Tonight -- a week or so since those first steps -- Leon got up to nine consecutive steps. A whole new realm of trouble-making is upon us.

Zapiski materi 24 - The Lion Sleeps Tonight

22 Мая

My notes have been appearing only every month or so. Then I say it will be the last one and three days later I’m back (sounds a bit messianic!). I had to write a note because my little cub (I’ve now decided he reminds me more of a little lion cub – after his name – than a bug) has his first temperature (or at least the first one I’ve noticed). I’m not worried yet, but this is new territory for me. So my poor cub has to suffer while the lioness keeps jamming a thermometer in his ear every half hour or so. Of course then I feel bad and give in and let him play with it (you press a button and wait for a beep…button, button, did somebody say button!?).

It wasn’t too high this morning so we stuck with our plan to go to Iuliia’s first birthday party. But it started to rise (maybe due to all the fun and excitement). My friends gave me all sorts of advice. For example, Russian paediatricians say that paracetamol suppositories are better than liquid medicine like our Calpol. Needless to say Russian generosity struck again so I came home with a package of them…maybe Lev will experience another first!

Perhaps Lev is feeling badly for us that we didn’t get a chance to use our expensive insurance and he’s determined to get us inside the clinic down the road before we leave. Or perhaps this is his way of protesting my aim to have him completely weaned in a month – he’s not into drinking milk from a bottle right now. In his state he prefers it with a little TLC (i.e. I’ll suckle, thanks!). When a child is sick one of a mother’s many worries is dehydration so, of course, I oblige.

But the comfort isn’t his alone. Because we made the conscious decision from the start not to rock or feed him to sleep, we rarely get to enjoy that wonderful feeling of having him fall asleep in our arms. It comes with a price, mind you, and all things considered we’d rather have our long peaceful evenings. Nevertheless, I cherish it when it happens.

My little cub is still sleeping. I peeled off his little dungarees and fetched his little lion for him (presently his favourite stuffed animal. It was a present from Lena). The books say to dress them in very little when they have a fever (which makes sense but is hard to do – my instinct is to bundle him up and get him all cosy when he is feeling poorly). So he nestled into me, his bare legs dangling across my legs (how did he get so big?) and fell asleep while he nursed and stroked the mane of his lion. He finally released and lay there all limp. I could have held him like that for hours.

Zapiski materi 23

19 Maя

It’s Friday night. I’m enjoying a G&T, Russian style (pre-mixed in cans…that way when you get a craving a week before you pack up to leave, you don’t have to worry about wasting half the bottle!). Lev has finally gone down to sleep (lately he has decided he’d rather stay up like one of the big people, but unfortunately for him his mama and papa don’t agree). The week will only get increasingly busy as we pack up to leave on the 29^th so I thought I’d take advantage of that laid back Friday night feeling to write what may well be my last Zapiski Materi.

Today was the first bad day (in terms of weather) since the end of March so we spent most of the day trying to get cosy indoors. But our cupboards were bare so we eventually bundled up and braved the wind and rain and took off for what will probably be our last significant grocery shop. Our tummies were rumbling so we stopped in, on the way, for sushi. I’ve decided I don’t mind it (actually, it’s pretty good) which is a shame since we are leaving the one place where it seems to be reasonably priced! We ordered a bowl of rice for Lev and fed him with chopsticks – a surprising efficient way of getting food into a toddler’s mouth (and he loved them, which always helps).

Lev has slid into toddler-hood with ease. Each day he takes a few steps on his own (he is so proud of himself) and we are anxiously awaiting the day when he just goes for it. But one thing is clear – it will be on his timetable, not ours. He is growing up so fast and to watch him is a delight. We remark to each other daily how lucky we are. It is so much fun to watch him discover new things. These days he is most happy when he is figuring something out and discovering the results of his actions. For his birthday he got one of those toys where you put the appropriate shape through the appropriate hole. He hasn’t quite got the hang of it, but what is so much fun to watch is how he improvises. He finds other things that fit without too much trouble (like my mobile phone). Tonight he pulled the plug in his bath and spent some time trying to jam it back in – he was delighted with himself. How is it that grown adults can get such a rush sharing these moments?

I’m trying to analyse my feelings about leaving. I’m neither happy nor sad. I’ve never really been one to be homesick. Maybe if our time here was indefinite I would feel differently, but since that isn’t my experience I don’t know. There are definitely things I am going to miss. My friends – I’ve made some wonderful friends and it seems very strange that we will be parting soon. The sad thing is that, for many of them, travel is not an easy thing so they won’t be regularly popping through London. I’m going to miss our quiet dvor. Even though we are so centrally located, this is a haven of sorts (okay, aside from the needles we occasionally find in the stairwell and playground…). Our evenings together are long and chilled out. We don’t live hectic lives. I’ll miss that. I’m going to miss the pressing need to learn another language. I plan to enrol in a night class in the autumn to keep my Russian ticking over, but it won’t be the same. I'll miss going to see great music and dance in beautiful places for a fraction of the price that we have to pay in London. And we, especially Lev, will miss Lena (Lev's first nanny) - I wish we could take her with us! I could go on and on.

I have some regrets, though I try not to dwell on them. I wish I had taken better advantage of the fact that I get into the Hermitage for free (and it’s only about a 10-minute walk away). Why didn’t I go once a week for, say, an hour and explore a few rooms each time? And I wish I had become better acquainted with the elderly lady on the ground floor. Just recently I’ve started to knock on her door when I’m on the way to the store to ask her if I can get some groceries for her. She always strokes my face and thanks me. Why didn’t I make an effort to take Lev downstairs for a cup of tea every once and awhile – she always beams when she sees his face.

But there are also things that I’m glad I did. I’m glad I took two intensive lessons a week and started to get my head around this language. I’m glad I tried to engage in simple conversation with some women with children in our courtyard as they have become very close friends. Above all, I’m glad I put fear aside and I DID THIS!! I have to say I’m pretty proud of myself. My mum and I were doing something together last week and she said, ‘Sandra – you’re much braver than me’ and I was shocked – I’ve never thought I’ve come close to my mum’s bravery, efficiency and strength of character. But I guess I am brave. As far as character building, coming to live in Russia for awhile has been a big thing for me.

But there are some things I am really looking forward to. Speaking and knowing I will be understood. Hearing and knowing I will understand. Friends and family. Clean streets and better air quality. Good cheese. Really getting back into the thesis (okay, don’t fall off your chairs).

But my time of reflection is over. There is too much to do in this last week to think much more about it. I want to finish the two books I’m reading. I want to finish the vest I’m knitting. I’ve got to get rid of a bunch of our stuff. I’ve got to make a huge batch of chocolate chip cookies since my mum was kind enough to bring a big bag of chips. I want to have some people over. I want to get to the Hermitage one last time. I want to finish the textbook I’m working through with Tanya, my Russian tutor. And last but not least, I want to make one last stab at being really brave in Russia…trusting my Russian language skills enough to go to the hairdressers – ack!! Then I’ll have a new do to go with the heels I just bought – I just couldn’t leave the stiletto centre of the world without some.

WWBD?

I read an interesting article by Edward Lucas, the Economist correspondent for Eastern Europe. It's basically a free-marketeer's attack on the Make-Povery-History types, and their thinking. A bit rhetorical and provocative, maybe, but interesting nonetheless.
He also had a sermon on the same theme that he was due to give at Canterbury Cathedral. Anyone who, like me, is underwhelmed by the crusading Messianism of Bono and others, might like Lucas's article and sermon, although it is (perhaps deliberately) a bit rhetorically extreme.

What Would Bono Do? (Or Say?)

Baptism

The latest member of the Church. Future Patriarch Denis


Yesterday we had the privilege of attending the baptism of Denis, one of Leon's closest friends, and the son of Kolia and Vera, two people whose friendship, generosity and thoughtfullness has been unmatchable in our time living here.

For Sandra's parents from Protestant North America, it was a special treat -- not least the apres-baptism celebrations at the home of Denis's Godparents.

Denis was baptised in the cathedral of St Nicholas, one of the most beautiful in St Petersburg.

We learnt some interesting things about how this sacrament is performed in the Russian Orthodox church (Orthodox readers of the blog -- your explicatory comments and corrections will be welcome). All the children being baptised (there were about seven of them) got quite wet. The priest was sufficiently liberal with his splashing of the holy water. They also had a small bit of hair cut. (That alone would exclude Leon! Even at one year old, he still hardly has any hair to cut. An indication of being born to an Anglican father, perhaps?)

What does the priest do with his collection of hair? I'm curious.

The application of water, by the way, was done while the Godparents held the children. A nice touch, I thought. (I'm the Godparent of a Catholic child, and didn't have that privilege. Nor do Anglican Godparents get to do this.)

Then various bits of their bodies -- tiny feet and hands, knees, etc -- were blessed with, I presume, some holy oil.

Then the mothers were all invited to take the children up to the iconostasis to receive communion. Denis seemed to enjoy his first taste of wine.

The boys were also all carried behind the holy doors. The girls, alas, got to watch. (Indoctrination starts early, I suppose.)

Each of the children got a cross to wear at the end of it, after the priest had rattled off his mini-sermon, which included the phrase that they had been "forever cleansed" by the water. Entire sanctificationists, take note.

It was a far shorter service than we expected. No vocals from the crowd about renouncing evil, upholding the baptised, or anything. Very simple, very pleasant.

Congratulations Denis on joining the Church!

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Vera and Kolia don't go to church often. Vera explained that for women to attend services is difficult. They aren't allowed to attend when they are having a period; or wearing makeup; or without head-scarves, and long skirts beneath the knees; and so on. I asked her what happens if they do (attend while menstruating, wearing makeup, or not covering up offensive parts of the body). She said the priests ругаются -- a word meaning "curse or abuse" -- or, at best, take them aside afterwards and warn them not to do so again. The men get to attend in whatever attire they like.

Hmmm.

Anyway, it seems a far cry from the Russian Orthodox services I've attended abroad. But maybe (probably) I've just been ignorant.

It got me wondering how healthy the mooted reunification of the Russian Orthodox Church Abroad (Roca) with the native one would be for the former. Understandably, the Moscow Patriarchate is chuffed to bits at the possibility of extending its empire. Here, such a move is being greeted with much the same joy as Putin's reassertion of Russian power.

On the reunification of the churches... I'll believe it when it happens. Matt, Krista, Kim? What do you think?

Among the problems is the old chestnut about the Russian Church's behaviour during the Soviet period. The other day, Bishop Gabriel of Manhattan (of Roca) said that the Russian Church ought to ask forgiveness for its collusion with the KGB.

Understandably, given his own work as a KGB informer, Patriarch Aleksei doesn't seem too keen on that. His spokesman rejected that call, and, interestingly, claims that "Repenting is a personal act. Each person will answer to God for his sins." Sobornost' has its limits, it seems.

Do the ecumenically minded Roca churches subscribe to the narrow nationalism of the Russian Patriarchate? Its ambition to "redefine human rights to take account of the Russian context"? Its support for the wars in Chechnia? Do they dig the Russian Patriarchate being the biggest importer of cigarettes into Russia? Or its oil trading wing (up till recently, accounting for 10% of Russian exports)? I doubt it.

Judging from Aleksei's public performances recently, it might not be long before the Russian Church has a new leader. But it's a bit like waiting for one bad Pope to die, or Archbishop to retire. Or like waiting for Putin to retire. There's no guarantee that the next one won't be worse.