Russian Christmas

Ever since we started the adoption process in 2003, we have tried to work at least one Russian cultural experience into our year. Yeah, we felt a little funny at Russia Day when we didn't have a Russian and my kids kept asking me, "Mommy, what orphage did I come from?" but hey, we wanted to be PREPARED! Well, this year we (read me) were looking forward to our agency's Russian Culture Camp. Until we found out that our Russian born daughter is still three years away from being allowed to attend and they are no longer going to provide child care. We would have to drive to northeast Texas, drop three youngest kids, drive to Dallas, pay for culture camp for us and our two oldest--MADE IN THE USA--children to attend RUSSIAN culture camp, drive back to northeast Texas, pick up children, and drive back to the gulf. Arrive in the wee hours of the morning for the master to preach. Not going to happen folks, so on the spur of the moment, I decided to orchestrate our own little Russian Culture Day.
I got a vague e-mail for "Russian Christmas Celebration" in Houston with Father Frost and The Snow Maiden so we decided to go. We ate at this restaurant for lunch and ordered a little bit of everything for the kids to try. They liked the blini stuffed with meat and the bread. If you live in the Houston area you should try it out. It is not as good as what we had in Russia and the portions are small, but it's not bad. Pricey, though. When we got the bill, DH was like, is that in rubles?! Then we headed to the Hilton for the Russian Christmas Celebration. It wasn't anything like I expected. We set out for a Russian experience and got more than we ever bargained for! I thought probably it would be a bunch of adoptive parents like us with Russian/Ukranian/Rumanian born children and we would sit around and make polite conversation, "And what city is he from?...No, Marina is from St. Petersburg...And how long have they been home?" And maybe someone would talk about Russian Christmas traditions and a Russian band would play.
Dorothy, I don't think we are in Kansas any more. We arrive at the ball room and it is soon apparent that this is a gathering of Russians by Russians for Russians. The parents are in suits and dinner jackets and the kids are all in fancy dresses and cumberbuns. We are just a teensy bit underdressed people! I'm licking borsht off my kids faces and retying their tennis shoes. The ballroom is packed and their are only two other families that I spot who I think might be Americans--because we stick out like sore thumbs in this crowd, let me tell you. The program--which turned out to be the holiday production of the Houston Russian school--was wonderful. We didn't understand much because it was all in Russian, but they really did a first rate job. These little kids were singing and dancing (are there any Russians who cannot sing and dance?) and reciting LOOOOOOONG works of poetry--there was even a very accomplished pianist and violinist. And then you take in to account that these kiddos are all bilingual to boot! I tell you folks, it made us Americans look like a bunch of underachieving, lazy, uncouth cretins. It is no wonder that they beat us to space.
But I will say, that I much prefer our culture on two points: politeness and controlling our children. There were quite a few heated discussions regarding seating going on around us. The ball room was very crowded (boy was I glad we arrived early) and someone would inadvertently put a purse down on a chair that someone else thought was theirs. Russians are not the slightest bit timid about confrontation. I can't tell you exactly what they were saying, but it sure didn't sound like, "Oh is this seat taken?" "Well, we can just move down one..." "No it's no trouble at all" "Oh, pardon me!" No siree Bob! It sounded NAS-T. And then when it was time for Father Frost to distribute gifts, my kids waited politely for their turn but Russian Mama and Russian Papa kept pushing their kids up to the front. It seemed hopeless; tears were welling up in my sweet southern mannered children's eyes. But then I saw that the Snow Maiden also had a little sack of gifts and no crowd. I hustled them over to her and darn if she wasn't listening to recitation (no hand-outs with the Russian's, if you please, you must sing or recite or do a little dance if you want a present) then when that kid was done--even though we were clearly waiting--another Russian mama pushed her little girl ahead of mine and she sung her little song, and I tell you that Cajun Mama and Snow Maiden were about to have a THROW DOWN. But when that little girl had gone away, I told her distinctly in English that we did not know any Russian poetry but we could sing, and we sang the first verse of"Away in a Manger" and she gave them their gifts. Whew! Cultural catastrophe narrowly averted. And as far as controlling our children--these kids were just running wild during the performance--going up on stage, hijacking the mikes, and wandering in the aisles the whole time. I was a little annoyed, but if it had been my kid's shining moment in the spotlight, I would have been livid. But no one seemed to mind. The actors and actresses up on stage took it in stride and just danced around them or sang louder--whatever the occasion called for. Weird. But to them, I guess that is just hunky-dory.
Right before we left, I sought out the director of the school, because if we stay in the area I would like for Marina to attend the Saturday culture classes if she could. Well, color this woman unhelpful. She just kept saying "Send on computer your request for information." "Well I just thought that since we were here you might have some information available" Or you could just discuss it with us?! Since we are standing right in front of you??!! "The paper says," pointing to the English translation of the day's program, "E-mail your request for information. Send on computer your request for information." Typical Russian response here folks. Some of you adoptive parents are Amening right now. This is why we have to have a notary on a notary for EVERY BLESSED PIECE OF PAPER!!! But then she becomes very adamant that we meet the Russian Consulate General who is in attendance. They were very proud that he had made it (they recognized him three times during the program) and she just insisted that we meet him. So I'm wanting to get in good with this woman, so maybe she will let Marina into her school, so I oblige. We wait, listening to this man speak rapid Russian. Then he turns to us and speaks clear TEXAN. It was the strangest thing. This guy is good, people. You could not catch the hint of a trace of Russian accent. In fact, he had a passable drawl. So we introduce ourselves and Mrs. Russian School Director seems to think it a good idea for Marina to take a picture with Mr. Russian Consulate Man so we take a picture. I am about to move on when he begins the KGB inquisition. "Have you registered this child? When did she come to the U.S.? Who is handling the post placements? Were they filed on time?" Somewhat taken aback with the turn of the conversation, we answered his questions meekly, but DH recovered, rallied himself, and commented, "Well, you can see that she is healthy and happy, and doing very well." So there, Mr. Russian Consulate Man. "Well, it is just that there have been so many cases of neglect." Hello? Has he been to a RUSSIAN ORPHANAGE???!! My baby has had neglect all right, but it happened long before we got our hands on her, and she was in a GOOD ORPHANAGE! One supported by OUR agency's humanitarian aid. The BAD orphanages we will never see!!! And you want to talk to me about NEGLECT???!! Once again, a close call for Russian/American relations.
But overall we had a great day. We had about as authentic a Russian Christmas as you can have in Houston, Texas and have done our part to foster positive cultural awareness--and I didn't even have to spit on anyone.
Das Vu Don Yeah!