Living in Tashkent: Grocery Shopping

Whenever I consider living in various countries, one of the first thing I think about is food.  One of my permanent jobs is feeding my family, and how I do it is largely based on what food I can get locally.  I've read through so many recipes that looked good but had ingredients that I just can't get.  This has happened so much that I hardly ever cook anything new anymore; I have my twenty recipes that work and that is fine with me.  

Here in Tashkent I've found just about what I was expecting to find, considering that we just moved one country over.  I have been surprised by a few things, however.  In Dushanbe we could only find brown lentils, never red.  Here in Tashkent we can only find red lentils, never red, which is too bad because I shipped fifty pounds of red lentils before I realized this.  I've also found - after shipping a hundred pounds of the stuff - that oatmeal is both available and cheap here.  And weirdly enough, they have cornmeal.  I've never found cornmeal in any of the countries we've lived in before.  But, of course and as always, no black beans.

I also haven't been able to find any kind of liquid cream, only thickened cream.  This works fine for soups and cooking, but it makes it really hard if you want to whip the stuff.  I still can't figure out why they don't have it here.  I can also tell we've moved back to more Turkic culture because there's lots of plain yogurt, which you couldn't find at all in Dushanbe.  Thankfully they have mozzarella cheese, even if it is kind of expensive.  But, no salted butter.  I miss salted butter.  Sigh.

Fruits and vegetables have the same availability that you can find most places - tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers, eggplants, onions, melons, seasonally available fruit, potatoes, garlic.  But here they sell peeled fresh garlic, which is one of my favorite grocery finds so far.  I hate peeling garlic and I use a lot of garlic - sometimes two heads in a recipe - so it was a revelation to discover that they sell it peeled here.  

Unlike Dushanbe, which had no truly Western-style supermarkets (it had one that was sort of one) when we moved there, Tashkent has tons of supermarkets.  There are several chains, one of the most common ones being an Uzbek chain, Korzinka, that has stores everywhere around the city.  We live half a kilometer from a smaller one, which has been really nice.  The children can walk or ride their bikes to it and when I need something for dinner, they can go and pick it up for me.  The produce selection is good, it has fresh meat, and it even has a bakery, so there really is no need to go anywhere else unless you need something usual, like pork.

Tashkent also has lots and lots of bazaars.  The city is divided into eleven neighborhoods, and each neighborhood has their own good-sized bazaar.  The produce at the bazaar is cheaper than at the grocery store and there is a little more selection, but I don't ever shop at the bazaars because I'm too lazy to drive further than half a kilometer and I don't want the hassle of trying to park.  Usually I send my housekeeper, Shoira, to the bazaar if I need anything specific, but otherwise she does the local shopping at the grocery store.  

There are several bazaars which have places to buy pork, which isn't sold at the grocery stores because Uzbekistan is a Muslim country.  The bazaars also have household goods in addition to any kind of food that can be sold by the kilo.  

I've found grocery shopping in Tashkent to be a pretty straightforward, easy experience.  This is, of course, in the context of shopping with expectations set for being in Central Asia.  I've long since given up looking for some things (specific beef cuts, specialty cheeses, avocados) and so I'm not disappointed when I don't find them.  But, I'm happy to have grocery stores and I'm happy that those grocery stores have parking lots.  It's always good to have reasonable expectations!

How to Potty Train a 20-Month Old Toddler

The timing of potty training is largely a matter of preference.  Which do you like less - changing diapers or cleaning up puddles and messy undies?

Early potty training takes longer than late potty training, but it can save you over a year of changing diapers.  It's easier to deal with the will of a 20-month old baby because they're used to being told what to do and so potty training is just another thing to learn.  The hardest part is getting a mostly non-verbal child to understand what it is you want of them.  How do you explain 'going potty?' So it takes a while for them to understand what they're supposed to do.

Late potty training (age three or after) is done with the full understanding of the child, but that means that you have to change diapers for awhile longer.  It usually goes a lot faster, which is nice.

What is the most difficult is potty training a two year-old.  They understand what you want but often don't want to do it, and the will of a two year-old is amazingly strong.  I've run into enough two year-olds to realized that in a battle of wills with them, you will lose every single time.  So I very carefully chose what to clash with two year-olds with.  If I can't physically force them to do something, I usually don't make an issue of it.  Which includes potty training - it's impossible to make a child pee in a toilet.

In order to train a toddler to be potty trained with my method, there are a few prerequisites.  The child has to be obedient.  My method involves a lot of sitting around on their toilet, and if they won't sit for long periods of time, you're going to have to find another method.  You also have to have a little potty - no toilet seats allowed, unless you want to spend your entire life in the bathroom. 

Also, you have to understand what I mean when I say 'potty trained.'  I mean a child that goes on the toilet when you put them there and doesn't pee anywhere else.  They wear underwear during day, during naps, and at night.  What they don't do is use the toilet on their own.  Toddlers that young aren't capable of doing that - yet.  At first you will have to take them to the toilet at set times - usually when they wake up, at mid-morning, before nap, after nap, and before bed.  After several months, they will start telling you that they need to use the bathroom.  And within a year, they'll go on their own.  It sounds like a long time to being fully potty trained, but that year was an entire year of you not changing diapers.  If you can change diapers, you can take your child to the bathroom.

I realized after potty training a few children that toddlers have no problem not peeing.  They can, under the right circumstances, hold their bladders for quite a long time.  The difficulty with potty training, then, is not teaching them to hold it, but to release it in the proper place.  That is the skill they have to learn - to let out urine in a controlled manner.  

So with this in mind, I start the first day with sitting the toddler down on the toilet and leaving them there until they pee.  It usually takes an hour or two and they will be very unhappy about it.  They're not used to being without a diaper, and when they've been without a diaper before (bath, changing their diaper), they're used to not peeing.  So their bladder will get uncomfortably full and they'll fuss and cry before they finally can't hold it anymore and they pee.  

So do whatever you can to keep them on the toilet.  William sucks his thumb, so he has his blanket.  I strew toys around him.  Give them electronics, let them watch a movie, just don't let them off the toilet until they've gone.  After they go, show them the toilet with pee in it, make a big show of how happy you are, cheer, high-five, tell them multiple times that they've peed in the potty, and then give them a treat.  William loves jellybeans, so I've been using them.  The whole point of this is to have them associate peeing in the toilet with good things and help them to understand what peeing in the potty is.

Give them a two-hour break and then put them back on the potty until they've peed again.  This will take another ridiculously long amount of time.  I call this stage the Iron Bladder stage.  They don't yet understand that it's okay to pee outside their diapers, and so using the bathroom only happens when they just can't hold it any longer.  During this stage it is essential to leave them on the potty until they've peed.  Don't let them off until they've peed because, inevitably, they will pee as soon as you let them off.  The longer they're sitting, they closer they are to peeing, so if you give up after 1 1/2 hours, it's not going to end well.  

The next stage is Mouse Bladder stage.  You'll know when you're in mouse bladder stage because your child will sit down, use the bathroom within half an hour, get up, and then have an accident twenty minutes later.  Sometimes they'll let out just a little pee, get off the toilet, and then let out some more pee.  They are starting to realize that it's okay to pee outside the diaper, but they don't know how to let it all out at once.  So they let out a little and then stop.  You are tricked into thinking that their bladder is empty, you let them go play, and then they let the rest out.  

This stage is maddening.  You feel like your child will never potty train, the puddles of urine will never end, and that there is regression, not progress.  This stage is when you'll want to give up because it is clearly not working.  But press on, because mouse bladder stage shows that your child is starting to understand.

When they do have accidents, explain to them firmly (try not to yell because then they get confused about whether or not they should pee.  It's hard, though, so don't beat yourself up if you do.  I've done a lot of yelling in my time) that it's bad to pee on the floor, give them a little spank, put them on the potty, and give them a kiss.  Chances are good that they've still got some urine left in their bladder and they can finish on the potty.  Once again, don't let them off until they've peed.  Leaving them on the toilet for long periods of time gives them the best opportunity to be successful - and being successful is what potty trains a child.  

The last stage is Controlled Bladder stage.  You'll know you've reached this stage when your toddler goes on the toilet within five to ten minutes of you putting them down.  I still put them in diapers when I go out (but I try not to go out much at all during the first two weeks), and if they've reached controlled bladder stage, they will have dry diapers when you come home - they can usually last about three hours.  At this point, if you put them on the toilet and they don't go within twenty or thirty minutes, you can let them up again for another hour or so because they can hold it.

After a week of controlled bladder stage, you can go to all undies all the time (when you're at home.  I put them in diapers when I go out until they're capable of telling me they need to use the bathroom).  There will probably be some nights where they wet the bed, so make sure you have a waterproof mattress on the bed, but they will eventually figure it out.  

One thing I don't like about night- and nap-time undies is that I can't let them languish for hours in their bed while I sleep in or ignore them in the afternoon after their naps.  It's somewhat obnoxious, but I learned the hard way with Joseph that waiting is a bad idea.  There is a window for night time training where they're naturally ready for it and if you wait too long (more than a month), it will close and then night time training will be very painful.  So don't delay.

I usually transition to a regular toilet when they are around two and a half.  When we go on R&R in the summer, I have no desire to pack a toilet in my luggage, so usually I tell my toddler that the red potty (ours is a red Baby Bjorn one) has disappeared and they have to use the big one.  They still ask for assistance and I hold them on the toilet so they're not scared, but eventually they just decide that it's easier to go on their own rather than come and get me.  It's always a happy time when that happens.  

So, there are all my secrets for early potty training.  I still hate potty training, but I'm happy to know that I've definitely reached the majority skills level for potty trained children.  There is no way I'm going to have six more children, so I can be happy in knowing that there are a very, very few number of children left to potty train.  Hallelujah!

Milestone Week

This week Joseph learned how to ride a bike.  Before this week, I'd taught three children to ride a bike.  I don't really enjoy teaching this skill (but let's be honest, I don't actually enjoy teaching any skill.  It's a good thing I homeschool my children) because it's so uncomfortable to do.  There's a lot of leaning over holding on to the bike while trying to avoid being sideswiped by pedals.  I still have a bloodstain on one sandal from when I taught Edwin to ride his bike.

Usually I teach children to ride a bike when they're four or five.  Once the training wheels are ditched, it's a lot easier to keep up with the siblings and also it's much quieter - who knew training wheels could be so dang noisy?  When Joseph was four, Eleanor was little or it was summer or it was winter and when he was five I was pregnant with William and then William was little.  When he was six and it wasn't deathly hot outside and I wasn't pregnant, the local park where we went for bike riding got closed and turned into a fancy soccer field, so there wasn't anywhere to learn.

And that's how we got to Joseph being less than a month away from seven and still not knowing how to ride a bike.  I put it off earlier because it was just too hot outside.  If I'm going to be running around while keeping a bike from falling over for the five hundredth time while a child is dripping in snot because of their scraped knee or elbow, I'm not going to be dripping in sweat while doing it.

So this past Wednesday it was: 1. not hot, 2. not cold, 3. not raining, 4. William wasn't sleeping, and 5. I wasn't pregnant.  It was finally the day.

I hauled out Joseph's bike and, of course, the tires were all flat.  I think that sometimes the bikes all get together in the garage at night and let the air out of each other's tires just so I have to pump up the tires over and over and over again.  I don't like pumping up bike tires.

After the tires were pumped up, Joseph hopped on and started pedaling while I had a firm grip on his neck.  Necks are higher than bike seats and so require less bending over.  "Now don't let go," Joseph commanded me in a nervous voice, "I don't want to fall over!"

So I held on to him while he started pedaling down the street.  After thirty or forty feet, I noticed that he was balancing pretty well without any help from me, so I let go.  Often children don't notice that they're on their own until a few feet later and so I waited for the realization to hit Joseph and the loud protesting to begin.  Instead he rode to the end of the street.  "Hey Mom!" he told me, "I can do this own my own! Watch me!"  Then he rode back towards me, past me, and down to the other end of the street, waving as he went by.

So I shrugged my shoulders, pulled out Eleanor's bike, and started teaching her to ride.

This week I also potty-trained William.  I like to potty train my children early because 1. I'm a sucker for punishment and 2. my one nod to crunchiness (everyone has to have one I suppose) is that I cloth diaper my children.

I have potty-trained five children previous to William and so I knew how things were going to go - at least a week of pure insanity followed by slowly improving bladder control.  I've done this enough times that I've mostly run out of emotional hysteria and cleaning up puddles of urine doesn't drive me to insane rage like it used to.  I know that eventually all developmentally normal children potty-train and that cleaning up puddles will not last forever, even if it feels like it will.

So far William has had five total accidents in seven days and has had dry diapers after going to the park on Saturday and going to church today.  When I put him on the toilet, he uses it within five minutes, and when he isn't on the toilet, he stays dry.  I'm still scratching my head over how easy it has been, but I'm not complaining.

Some weeks are particularly horrible and it feels like nothing will ever go right and that progress is something that happens to everyone but you.  But this week was not one of those weeks.  I'm going to savor the feeling for as long as possible.

Hello, Fall!

Last night I woke up cold and had to get another blanket to warm back up with.  When I pulled the curtains this morning, I was greeted with a grey sky and light sprinkles.  During church this morning, it started raining and is still raining this evening.  I pulled out pants and a long-sleeved shirt when I dressed after coming home from church this afternoon.  The weather forecast calls for cloudy weather and rain for the next two days, and after that the high temperature will barely break seventy on one day in the next ten.

It looks like fall just arrived.

Last week the weather was sunny and in the low eighties.  Yesterday we went to the park and it was seventy-five and sunny, the perfect day for the park.  I've been having a hard time believing that it's actually October as I've worn a dress or shorts every day, the same thing I've worn every day since we moved to Tashkent.  I knew logically that one day the weather would cool down and I would have to find out where I put my jeans, but it didn't feel like that would be any time soon.

Our house is heated by radiators, and in the bathrooms, kitchen, and basement, by radiant flooring.  Since the weather has been nice, although chilly at night, we haven't had the radiators turned on yet.  Timing the radiators is tricky business sometimes - turn them on too early and you end up sweltering, but wait too long and you can have some miserable days waiting for someone from the embassy to come and turn them on for you.  This year I'm going to watch so that I have the power to turn them on and off myself.  

My general rule is that when the high temperatures drop below seventy-five, I have the radiators switched on.  Our house is an enormous concrete block, which makes it easier to cool in the summer as the concrete tends to stay cool, but that doesn't work as well in the fall and spring.  So this week, the radiators are getting turned on.  And if we're hot, then we can open the windows.

The trees have also started changing this week.  They've stayed stubbornly green and then one day they must have all agreed that it was time for fall because they all turned at once.  As we drove to church this morning, the wind was whipping leaves through the grey skies.  It was very fall-y and I wanted to go home and make pumpkin bread.

I've always had a complicated relationship with fall because it's the season that ushers in winter.  I don't like being cold, I don't like the sun setting at five in the evening, I don't like bare skeleton trees, and I don't like taking twenty minutes to get my children out of the house while angrily looking for that one lost mitten that someone didn't put back in their bin.  

So although fall has some lovely, crisp days, that make for perfect walks along picturesque rivers, I have a hard time enjoying them as I brace for grey, cold winter.  But there are people in my family who like fall very much and so I'll try not to ruin it for them.  They are very excited about the fire pit that we got this week and everyone is looking forward to roasting marshmallows and making s'mores.

But I guess it doesn't really matter how I feel about fall because it comes every year (well, not in the tropics) whether I want it to or not.  I'll try my best to enjoy it.  And then eagerly look forward to spring.

Tashkent Botanical Gardens

Last Saturday we took the children to the botanical gardens.  We really enjoyed going to the botanical gardens in Dushanbe, so we had high hopes for the Tashkent's.

We had heard that there were WWII tanks that the children could play in, so we went there first.  

The kids were so excited because not only could they climb on the tanks, they could climb in the tanks, and they could even move the turret of the tanks.  "They'd never let us do this in America!!"

William thought that climbing on tanks was mostly okay.

There were also guns.  I'm not exactly clear what kind of guns - you'd have to talk to Brandon about that.

But the guns were also highly entertaining.  After all, what child hasn't wanted to push all the buttons and pull all the levers on big guns?

The anti-aircraft gun was very popular, as not only could you raise the gun, you could turn the entire carriage in a complete circle.  While raising and lowering the gun.

Pink dresses go very well with green guns.

In addition to the guns and tanks, there were also trucks to play in and pretend to drive across the front to go and battle with the Germans.  We've watched quite a lot of WWII movies with the children, so they were pretty excited about seeing real pieces of history.

They didn't run William over.

The kids all declared, after climbing over and under and in everything they could find, that this was even better than the Chinese exercise equipment in the Dushanbe botanical gardens, and when can we come back?  The gardens were wonderfully green and shady with pleasant walking paths, so I think it's safe to say that we will be going back very soon.

How to Take Three and A Months to Get a Medical Clearance

This week Brandon got an email from State Department's main medical office (MED).  It was pretty short, but it let us know that Sophia is officially cleared to be in Tashkent.  This means that she has access to the medical unit at the embassy and if there's an emergency, she can get medevaced. 

We put in the paperwork to renew her medical clearance at the beginning of June, three and a half months ago.  Seven of us got cleared with a worldwide, class 1, clearance within a week.  Sophia, obviously, did not.

Having a worldwide medical clearance is a very good thing to have in the State Department.  It means that you don't have any medical issues that can't be dealt with by the local medical unit.  I have hypothyroidism, but that's taken care of easily with blood tests and a Synthroid prescription. 

In the last few years, the definition also got changed to include chronic conditions that you can take care of yourself, even if the local medical unit can't help you with them.  I have a friend who had cancer, but was allowed to go to her next post after she arranged to meet with a doctor in Europe for the follow-up appointments. 

Having a class 2 medical clearance is not such a great thing.  It doesn't mean that you are absolutely banned from going anywhere other than first world countries, but it does mean that you have to be approved for specific posts.  It can be a real pain when bidding on jobs because you have to research the medical capabilities of every post you're thinking of bidding on and convincing State's med bureaucrats that those posts can take care of your issue.  It adds another complicated step to an already complicated thing.

So, back in June, I crossed my fingers when we turned in Sophia's medical clearance, hoping that she'd get a class 1 clearance.  After all, it's not like ADD is a particularly difficult issue to deal with.  She doesn't need any special school accommodations and she's on a stable dose of Ritalin, which can be prescribed by the doctor at post - just like my Synthroid is prescribed by the doctor at post.

Unfortunately, my finger crossing didn't work and Sophia's clearance paperwork got passed on to another office within MED.  After spending a week making multiple phone calls and emails, we finally got in touch with the case worker who was reviewing her case.  We talked on the phone and she laid out the issue, "I need to know that you have a way to get Sophia's Ritalin.  She doesn't have a current prescriber, and I need to know that you have one before I'll clear her to go to Tashkent."

We had been working with the doctor at post to get Sophia's Ritalin prescription while we were in Dushanbe and it had worked quite well.  But then the regional psychiatrist (RMO/P) went to her next post and a new RMO/P showed up.  When I needed a new prescription for Sophia, the doctor at post, also new, told me that I had to have the RMO/P refill the prescription.  I emailed her about refilling Sophia's prescription in March, and she told me to set up a digital video conference for her to meet with Sophia before refilling the prescription.

We left before we could do that.  So when I told the case worker about the RMO/P being willing to prescribe, she told me that we just had to get a new DVC set up and Sophia would be cleared to go to Tashkent.  Which was a good thing to hear, because we were less than a week from our departure date.

This is when things started going sideways.  I duly emailed the RMO/P and asked for the DVC.  She replied saying that she had no interest in meeting with us about Sophia - we were supposed to have Sophia meet with our pediatrician.  We replied that we had met with Sophia's pediatrician and what else did she need us to do?  Then she stopped responding to our emails.

At this point, the case worker had decided that, since the RMO/P didn't show any indication that she would prescribe, and we couldn't get Ritalin locally in Tashkent, we were going to have to find a country where Sophia could get Ritalin.  This decision was reached on July 5 - the day before we were supposed to leave for Tashkent.

We got in touch with people at the embassy in Tashkent and let them know of the the problem.  This wasn't good news to them because they were expecting Brandon to show up to work the following Monday and fill a hole that had been empty for several months already.  A few hours later - around two in the morning - we got an email from the HR officer at the time telling us to go ahead and come to post.  Sophia could come without a medical clearance, but that meant that she couldn't use any medical resources.  The email implied that they had worked things out with the RMO/P and that a resolution would come quickly.

That was not the case.

We made it to Tashkent and settled in to our new home.  A couple of weeks after we arrived, Brandon got called into the DCM's (second in command) office.  "Did you know," he asked, "that your daughter doesn't have a medical clearance?  I got a personal email from the RMO/P telling me that I needed to know that you were here at post with a child who wasn't cleared."  Brandon let him know the situation, and assured him that it was only an issue with a Ritalin prescription and nothing serious.  The DCM was relieved and commiserated about tangling with MED.  After you have been in the foreign service long enough, everyone has horror stories about tangling with the medical office.

Brandon went straight from his office to the medical unit.  The PA who runs the unit said that she had gotten in contact with the RMO/P about prescribing Sophia's Ritalin, and the RMO/P had told her in no uncertain terms that she was not allowed to prescribe Ritalin herself.  When the PA asked what we should do, the RMO/P didn't have any reasonable solutions.  Or any solutions at all.

This went on for weeks and weeks.  The PA would contact the RMO/P, who wouldn't reply or offer vague answers or put her off.  Then there would be silence for a few weeks.  The PA would try to re-open the issue and the RMO/P would go through the whole cycle again.  Brandon didn't feel that we should contact the RMO/P personally because he thought that she was angry at us for coming to post without her blessing.  Weeks turned into months and we still didn't have a medical clearance for Sophia.  When we went off to our first horseback riding lesson, Brandon told Sophia not to break anything because she couldn't get any help from the embassy. 

In early September, we got a notice that the RMO/P would be visiting Tashkent personally.  I emailed about making an appointment and the PA asked if it was allowable for the RMO/P to meet with Sophia, even though Sophia didn't have a clearance and didn't have access to medical resources.  The RMO/P said no.  So I made an appointment for myself.  I figured that she couldn't refuse to answer me if I was sitting in the office looking at her and we could finally get everything straightened out.

At the same time, Brandon was putting in a request to extend in Tashkent.  Since Tashkent is a hardship post, you only have to stay for two years.  If you want to stay for three, you have to request to stay for the third year.  We try and stay wherever we are as long as possible, so extension wasn't even a question.  It was an assumption.

Everything seemed to be just fine for him to extend.  His boss was fine with it, the HR officer was fine with it, and the DCM was fine with it.  It was a happy party of agreement. 

Bidding season was getting ready to start and Brandon was already getting several emails a day about his position, as it was listed as becoming vacant in summer 2020.  Brandon let them know that he was planning on extending, so it wouldn't be a good idea to get their hopes up.  But he had to get his extension in before bidding ended otherwise his job would be given away.

Then the DCM called Brandon in to his office (again).  "I can't approve your extension," he told Brandon, "until your daughter has a medical clearance.  So see if you can get that cleared up and I'll be happy to send the memo to the ambassador."

The next day, the PA let us know that the RMO/P had finally given her a straight answer about prescribing - and the answer was no.  That afternoon we got an email from DC letting us know that Sophia was not cleared for Tashkent.

I reached out on Facebook for advice and heard from several other people who had had similar (or exactly the same) experiences with the RMO/P.  She flatly refused to prescribe any maintenance medication - stating that her job was only a "stop gap measure" and that "primary care comes from US-based physicians."  Which, as every single person on the thread agreed, was complete nonsense.  The job, according to the State department website, of an RMO/P "is a local resource available to help manage a child or adolescent’s mental health needs." Our previous RMO/P had had no problem providing Sophia's prescription initially and then had no problem letting the local med unit write the refills. 

It was very frustrating to finally understand that the RMO/P had never had any intention to refill Sophia's prescription and that she took three months to tell us that.  We had spent months waiting for some sort of resolution and praying that Sophia wouldn't get sick or injured.  We had waited and waited and waited for any kind of communication, even if it had been a no.  But instead we just waited on someone else's whims, someone who knew what her answer was from the very beginning and never intended to tell us.  I hope that we never are posted in the same country as this woman because I would have a very hard time not punching her in the face interacting with her reasonably.

So we were left scrambling for another solution and under a very pressing deadline.  I reached out to our former RMO/P, who also refused to manage the prescription.  Then I reached out to our pediatrician in the US, who wonderfully, mercifully, thankfully agreed to help.  I never thought that getting a prescription for a mind-altering substance could bring me so much joy.

The next day I turned in a new provider form, one that said that our pediatrician was willing to manage Sophia's medication, and copied every single person I had ever interacted with at MED.  The next day I followed up with promises to make personal phone calls.  That got a 'don't bother me - bother her!!!' email with the finger pointed at our original case worker.  So I emailed her, called her multiple times, called her the next day, tattled to the office manager about not getting a response, and emailed her again.  That finally got us a response, and the response that we wanted - the only reasonable response that it could be.  'Yes, she's fine.  I'm approving her for Tashkent [now leave me alone].'  I have learned through long experience that sometimes the only way to get the job done is to be the most annoying person ever so people will do anything to get you to leave them alone.

Our quest almost done, I got a message from a wonderful friend who had just gotten a job in the medical office the week before.  She offered to help move the rest of the process along, and did an admirable job of it.  A week after we had the first denial, Sophia was cleared for post.  Brandon and I celebrated for thirty seconds and then he started bugging everyone about getting his extension finalized.

This whole experience has shifted my view of people, ever so slightly, towards Brandon's.  I've always felt that people are reasonable and, if approached the right way, would work with you in a decent fashion.  He sees other people as entities dedicated to doing everything in their power to make your life miserable.  After the last three and a half months dealing with the RMO/P, I'm willing to concede the point.  At least when it comes to Dr. D.

Eco Park

Saturday wasn't a busy day.  We didn't have any birthday parties, Brandon didn't have work to do, and our household chores weren't very many.  The weather has recently turned nice - upper seventies and low eighties - and the pool is gotten too cold to swim in.

So we loaded up the children and took them to a local park, Eco Park.  I haven't had very high expectations about the parks here in Tashkent, so we were pleasantly surprised with Eco Park.

The park was evidently built in the twenties, but it's been updated since.  It still has lots of nice, shady trees and pleasant walks.  It's nicely watered and reasonably taken care of.

There are badminton, tennis, and volleyball courts that can be rented out.  There are also two playgrounds - one for smaller children and one for older children.

I've seen lots of Soviet-era playgrounds and so was pleasantly surprised to find a pretty decent one in the park.  We had to pay to play, but I'm willing to pay $2.50 an hour for a decent playground and shady benches to sit on.

There's also a lake to walk around and several cafes.  We enjoyed a nice walk after playing with the children.

I'm sure we'll be back soon.

Living in Tashkent: Church

Tashkent is our fourth post in the Foreign Service.  It is also our fourth post in a Muslim country, and so it's our fourth post in a country where the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints is not recognized.  I'm not sure how I'm going to handle going to church in a country where it is recognized after spending more than a decade hiding out in the corners of the world that Mormons haven't infiltrated.

Since the Church isn't recognized, we are not allowed to proselytize, baptize, have a ward, have missionaries, or meet with locals.  Our records are part of the Central Eurasian first branch, with the mission president acting as our branch president.  The religious laws here are reasonably strict, so there's not likely to be a change in the status of the Mormon church any time soon.

So, we are home-churching again (for the third consecutive post).  Unlike Dushanbe, where we showed up without anyone else in the country, Tashkent had a group who were already meeting when we showed up.  We haven't found any other LDS expats, so for now it's all diplomatic families who meet together each week.

There are five families, so it's a bigger group than we had in Dushanbe, and when everyone is in attendance we have twenty-six (and three-quarters) people for church.  It's a big enough turnout that we have to squeeze in three rows of chairs behind one of the couches in our living room, and if another family shows up we'll have to get creative with the seating.

The group here does things a little differently than we did in Dushanbe.  We operate on a monthly schedule for just about everything.  We switch houses every month and the primary and Sunday School teachers switch monthly also, with couples taking the assignments for each month.  Our three young women also take turns each month to direct the music and eventually Kathleen and I will swap piano playing monthly.

This gives everyone an opportunity to shoulder the burden and take a break from shouldering the burden.  It works out well, especially with primary, as no two people want to be stuck with the kids while everyone else is in Sunday School together.  As we only have three young women, they meet with the adults and also take a turn teaching during their parents' month.  It's nice to take turns hosting church so everyone can get a break from setting up and taking down church each week.

Before we arrived, the group would have a pot luck lunch together each week, but the group leader left before we arrived (we inherited their house, which is now the Mormon house).  The new group leader took a poll and everyone heartily agreed to limit the pot luck to one Sunday a month which is something I'm much happier with.  Because sometimes I just like to eat leftovers on a Sunday followed by a nice long nap.

We've also established a monthly Relief Society ministering meeting, which so far has consisted of us going out to dinner to celebrate birthdays.  I'm glad that the new guidelines are more flexible and we can be happy knowing that we are in compliance while staying out much too late eating sushi together.  The Young Women are also invited to these meetings, as Young Women are now part of the ministering program.  Kathleen is quite happy about this arrangement.

As there are three Young Women in the group, we also hold Young Women twice a month.  Sophia is the lone girl over the age of four, so she gets to be a part of Young Women, something that she is quite happy about.  So far we have plans for a musical number, an outing to the opera, and a macaron cooking class.

It's great to be part of a well-functioning group (and not have a husband in charge of making sure it functions).  I was talking with another group member about being part of a small embassy community.  "The embassy feels like a ward," I told them, "and the church group feels like family."  I'm glad to have such wonderful family here in Tashkent!

Not a Baby Any More

Today William padded over to me while I was making brownies.  He lifted his chubby arms beseechingly to me, "Mommy! Mommy! Up!"  A few days ago I caught him coloring on the floor with a green marker.  I looked at him, he looked at me, and then he put the cap on the marker, got up, and handed it to me while looking fairly abashed.  When we fold our arms to pray before dinner, he looks around at all those pairs of arms quietly folded and quickly folds his own.

My baby isn't a baby any more.

I've found that I don't see my children grow up gradually.  I see them as a baby or a toddler or a little child or a big child or a young women for years.  And then one day, my perspective shifts and they've moved on to the next stage.  I stop seeing them, treating, and expecting them to act as a baby and everything changes at once to toddler.  Yesterday they couldn't be expected to talk and today they are. 

William has been our baby for the last year and a half, but now we don't have a baby anymore.  He can feed himself (not with silverware and not soup), he gets up and down stairs without any hesitation, he lets himself out to play in the yard, he often does what I ask him to, he tries to repeat whatever I tell him, and he makes faces that he finds to be very, very funny.

I've found after having a few children that my favorite child stage is eighteen months to three years, and William has only reinforced that preference.  He is mostly cognizant of what is going on and is starting to communicate, but he hasn't become willful yet.  I love the stupid, unknowing, innocent gaze of a toddler and their wholeheartedly delighted smile and laugh when you please them.  I love how snuggling into my shoulder with a blanket makes everything in the world right again, and they are endlessly delighted by reading Where the Wild Things Are every single night.

Having a child who is right on the edge of bursting into full young womanhood helps me appreciate my sweet little toddler even more.  I know that soon enough he will be straining to grow up and become part of the adult world and for now I am happy to delight him with a second brownie followed by a tickle at bedtime.  And also, that oldest daughter can help with the dishes while I'm singing a second song to William before putting him to bed.

I used to be so anxious for my babies to grow up because I needed them to become something other than another burden in my already-full load.  But now the load has been shared around and I can enjoy savoring the sweet innocence of toddlerhood.  Soon enough it will only be a memory, so I'll hold on tight as long as I can.

Uzbek Campsite Reconnaissance, or My, How Close Kazakhstan Is!

Katheen's contribution:

This past Monday was Labor Day, and Mom decided to take us all into the mountains for campsite reconnaissance and a picnic. The Uzbek mountains are not as close as the Tajik ones were, so it’s a bit of a drive to go hiking. Mom had seen this nice lake (actually a reservoir), and wanted to check it out. Once we got close to the lake, we saw the dam. It was huge, and we thought we were pretty close to some awesome campsites. We found this winding road, and we went up and down, hoping to get close to the lake.            

But any side road was either part of some local’s dacha complex or led to a lakeside village. Turns out, Uzbeks are a lot like Tajiks. Wherever there’s a nice lakeside spot, there is bound to be a house. Now, we found plenty of not lakeside campsites, but Sophia had been hoping for a lakeside campsite, and apparently, Joseph agreed. When we drove out of the last village, Joseph was almost in tears. “Stupid Uzbeks!” he fumed. “We wanted to go camping!”

I was about done, but Dad wanted to go a bit farther. We drove until we got to this gated place with lots of semi-trucks. Dad got out and spoke to a guy in uniform. Turns out, it was the Kazakhstan-Uzbekistan border! None of us had our passports, so we drove back home. Now, we can say we have driven to Kazakhstan. We hope you also have an interesting Labor Day!