Culbert Report

Every time we come "home," things here seem just a little different.  It's hard to tell if we're changing or if this American life we remember so fondly is changing... probably a little of both.  This return, though, I thought I'd write out some of my first impressions of life in Boulder to glance back upon after we've been here a few weeks to see if they still stir even a small amount of culture shock. Exercise Mania!  Every trail seems crowded with runners.  Cyclists swarm every road, snow covered or not.  Hikers, walkers, and rec centers seem to amass on every street corner, showing off not only their athletic prowess, but their triple digit (minimum) gear.  It's strange to be back in an exercise culture, realizing just how different life seems in Russia.  Exercise in Russia does not feel like a lifestyle, but rather something built into daily life or a luxury for a day off.  Already, this moment from Back to the Future  has popped in...

These past few days at our Winter Bible Conference just outside Moscow caused me to reflect on the very similar conferences I experienced as a college student in Denver, Colorado an indeterminate number of years ago.  Although conference goals, spiritual atmosphere, fellowship, outcome, etc. of such conferences across the world remain very similar, I was struck this year (and perhaps every year to some degree) by just how differently these conferences feel culturally.  To provide a short glimpse into some of those cultural (or perhaps lifestyle) differences, here are some of the comparisons which come to mind. Food Hungry college students remain hungry college students every year at the Denver Christmas Conference.  There are no meals provided, however, the Adamsmark Hotel right on the 16th St. Mall in downtown Denver provides even the most particular foodie several delicious options for satisfying one's hunger.  I remember stocking up on some non-perishable...

“People are almost always better than their neighbors think they are.”  ―  George Eliot ,  Middlemarch The first 10 days of the New Year in Russia are 10 days of vacation for all Russians.  And just like every other day of the year, one celebrates within earshot of one's upstairs, downstairs, and next-door neighbors. Surprisingly, concrete walls insulate very little - there is not much that is not heard or overheard within the close confines of city life here.  Neighbors know each other here well, despite any formal introductions or intentional time spent together.  Every celebration, every argument, every bark, bawl, and cry takes place under the assumption that someone's listening.  I remember the accordion music, drums, dancing, and yelps commemorating the marriage of our upstairs neighbors' daughter when we first moved in.  About nine months later, many of the same sounds were repeated, accompanied by a recurring newborn's cry abou...

Long lay the world in sin and error pining, Till He appeared and the soul felt its worth. Wishing you hope and joy this Christmas.

A friend recently greeted Dan with the expression, "Dan, when I see you, I can't keep smiling." We're hoping he meant, "Dan, when I see you, I can't keep from smiling." Such a small, but vital difference. Every now and then, we get a taste of what we must sound like learning Russian and I can't keep from laughing... or was it I can't keep laughing?

As per Moscow tradition, we generally begin the day with some ultimate frisbee with friends at a local park.  This year a balmy 39 degrees greeted us as we lined up on the field - compared to years past, it did feel a bit like summer - some kids were even in shorts! Anna enjoyed toddling around in her snowsuit, cheering for Mom or Dad, then grabbed a quick nap in between frisbee and lunch.  We headed to some dear friends' to enjoy turkey and all of the delicious sides.  We ladened ourselves down with one baby, one bag of ikea children's chairs attached to the top of the stroller, 4 pies, and a few odds and ends.  I don't exactly remember what we did as far as transporting baked goods before we got a stroller.  A friend actually used a dolly to transport Thanksgiving goodness to our gathering place.  Ha, sometimes owning a car does not seem like the worst possible idea here in the big city... This year was a bit of a record, 25 adults and 5 kids...

As most of America prepares to hit the polls on Tuesday, I thought I'd record some thoughts I've been ruminating over the past few weeks on being an expatriate here in Russia.   Just a few weeks ago, I took Anna to a nearby park for some play time.  While we were there, we met Milana and her nanny Shabilat.  Shabilat asked where I was from, assuming that I was also a nanny working for a family in the area.  When I told her I was American, but that my husband and I lived and worked here, she immediately exclaimed, "you're so lucky!"  Shabilat immigrated to Moscow from Uzbekistan, a feat not warmly looked upon by the general Russian population here, and is currently working to obtain Russian citizenship.  The process is not an easy one, and requires that the applicant first renounce his/her current citizenship before even beginning the process of application.  Shabilat is not alone:  there are likely hundreds of hopeful migrant workers here li...