Pictionary

We walked into an empty and very quiet baby house this morning. There was not a soul in sight and not a sound to be heard. We assumed it was because of the continued holiday mode. Still, it was hard to imagine that it was lunchtime for hungry resident children, holiday or no holiday. We finally located somebody to attempt to inform them that we were there and ready to see Yerkezhan. It was more than a half hour before Migul showed up with Yerkezhan and an explanation that the power had been out and they had to go to a neighboring building to cook lunch. No easy feat for a hundred or more kids!

Even on holidays, bits of stuff can be spotted under the couch.
Got it!

This afternoon back at the apartment, our landlord, Sergei, showed up at the door with our cleaning lady, Tatiana, neither of whom can speak a word of English. After handing over our weekly rent, we played Pictionary with Sergei while Tatiana cleaned our apartment. The rules were simple. Sergei says something to us in Russian. We stare at him somewhat vacantly. He takes out paper and pen and draws something. We nod and say “da” several times then describe to each other what we think he has drawn. Sometimes he responds with a smile and we assume that he assumes that the communication has been effective. Sometimes he responds with “nyet” and the game starts all over. Of course, having relied upon our Lonely Planet Phrasebook, the response from us could either have been interpreted as “yes, we understand completely” or “sorry, we suffer from a highly contagious sexual disease”. Of course, body language often provides the key indicator of comprehension during such discourse.

As far as we can tell, our Pictionary topics covered Medeu and Chimbulak. Medeu is the huge, Olympic training speed skating rink about 10 miles south of town. Chimbulak is another 5 miles beyond Medeu and is Central Asia’s premier skiing area. Sergei skis and may or may not also skate (apparently, if we heard correctly, he might also be in possession of some sort of highly contagious sexual disease). Other topics included our dial-up internet connection, the art in the apartment (which may or may not be copies of works appearing in Almaty’s art gallery), the location of Almaty’s art gallery, and our water supply. Sergei noticed our growing collection of empty 5-liter water bottles and hastily explained (i.e. drew) that our tap water comes directly from the local mountains and, thus, is clean and safe. From day 1 we have brushed our teeth with it, washed dishes and vegetables with it, and even cooked pasta with it, all without a hint of ramifications. We still probably won’t outright drink it, in spite of Sergei’s glistening portrayal of the local mountain landscape.

All in all, we enjoyed the interaction and had a good laugh when it was over. Sergei and Tatiana are both very nice, a trait that communicates clearly in spite of language barriers. However, why they hastily donned CDC-approved protective clothing, we may never fully comprehend.

(Note to literalists reading the blog: This posting contains somewhat silly, satirical material. All adoptive parents are thoroughly screened for every contagious disease known to mankind – several times over because of the time sensitivity involved. All of our test results have been negative.)

(Second note to literalists: “Negative” implies non-possession of the disease tested for, not a bad result).