Well, Host Mother was a sharp sort, and my Tour Guide Russian was just good enough that she figured out who I was, and Daughter was on the line before I could finish asking for her.
We chatted about many things - what was supposed to be a 10 minute call came close to 40. Almost one of the first things that she said was, "I heard about the school shooting in Cleveland this morning."
Not literally as we were talking to her - news of the shooting was splashed all over the Cleveland news when I got home for last night's 6 pm broadcast. That would have been 8 am this morning Far East Russia time. She was just settling down with her bowl of Snow Flakes - The Russian answer to Frosted Flakes - and the Russian morning news started talking about Cleveland, Ohio.
So Vladimir Putin's state controlled media once again paints the United States in a flattering light. Of course, this was his directive to them just a few months ago, so they're just doing
My daughter wanted to be in Russia for their election. She will, but I'm glad that she's out in the boonies as opposed to a more metropolitan place like Moscow or St. Petersburg. Things run a little slow out there - they still have a statue of Lenin in the town square, although I hear that he's hailing a taxi now instead of pointing the way to the future. If there's any excitement, it'll likely happen in the west - and she can observe.
(Reasons I'm glad I believe in God #6,437 - I can't take care of my daughter where she is now, but there's no doubt in my mind that God will. So the Faust genetic tendency to worry about The Russians is effectively suppressed.)
In the meantime, Daughter is being treated very well. As a rare Native Speaker in that part of the world, she's the hit of the English class. And the Rotary club there is being extraordinarily generous in arranging for her to soak up as much of the culture as she wants (which, knowing her, is an enormous amount.)
I was thinking after talking to her this morning that it was a good thing I was never an exchange student. If I'd gone to any foreign country and been treated like she has been thus far, I wouldn't have wanted to return. Not that I didn't love my parents. What I hated was high school. And going back to mine would have been a huge come-down from wherever I would have been.
On the other hand, maybe the peers in my country of choice would have seen me for the pathetic, geeky proto-nerd I was back then. Ah, well, I never had the interest or the opportunity, so I shan't lament.
Meantime, at the end of our phone call with Daughter, I had her thank her Host Mother for taking such good care of her. Daughter did it while we were still on the line, and it was neat to hear the Host Mother's reaction.
Afterward, I started thinking that we should do something nice for the Host Mother. I thought, wouldn't it be cool to send her something she couldn't find there, something that was quintessentially American, something that represented this country on a number of levels, something that shouted out U.S.A. the instant you saw it.
It didn't take long for me to come up with a something that worked on all those levels. This is it. Think she'll like it?
