Holy Week

We've been fairly busy of late. Last weekend we hit a craft bazaar at the housing compound after our usual grocery shopping. We weren't looking but of course fell for a carpet. This is very unusual with woven and knotted layers. As you can see, Soca approves:

After bringing home the loot, Joe took Ruth Anne to the children's theater for an enactment of a Pushkin poem while I worked on my thesis. Saturday evening we were invited to dinner by two teachers at the international school and their boys – on whose almost a year older than RA and one whose almost a year younger. Sunday, Ruth Anne and I made it out on the health walk for the first time in quite a while. The weather was amazing and Ashgabat is actually green right now. The poppies are blooming. Ambassador Miles, the Charge d' Affair, had an open-house in honor of his wife and son, who were visiting and we went from their to our usual evening mass.

At mass one of the other teachers who has been holding classes like mine told me that we had to temporarily suspend our lessons. My first reaction was a bit of relief because it meant a little more time to work on the written presentation for my May seminar before the deadline (Wednesday). We get days off for blizzards in Colorado, for the “We reach World Cup” jump-ups in Trinidad and Tobago, and for random authoritarian interventions in Turkmenistan. Upon further reflection I felt really bad for my students though. Still permissions were re-secured and we were able to resume classes on Wednesday, and got the paper off to my advisor, in good time to really enjoy Easter. Joe was taking an on-line seminar about St. Augustine, which being through the Catholic Distance University finished on the same schedule.

Faced with the combination of evening services – in Russian – with a toddler. We decided to celebrate Holy Thursday and Good Friday at home this year. On Thursday evening, we read from John and washed one another's feet. The water was warm enough to sooth adult feet, but even though Ruth Anne usually avoids everything “hot” she jumped in and out of the tub with relish.

After that Joe threw together some matzoh. He managed to have the first batch out in under the prescribed eighteen minutes, but our oven and flour weren't Kosher. We can only vouch that the flour didn't come in contact with moisture after it was ground, and the bottom of our oven was covered in leavened crumbs. Tsch-tsch-tsch. It would have been very nice to do this commemoration of the Exodus and the Last Supper on Wednesday, which was actually Passover, but as I mentioned I was still pre-occupied then. Here's our seder plate with matzoh, salted water, eggs, herbs, and haroseth which is made of apples and walnuts and represents the mortar enslaved Jews used in their labors:

We were missing the crucial sacrificed lamb... but enjoyed a Mushroom Supreme casserole with the meal. We also didn't go through the script of the ritual but decided to wait until Ruth Anne is old enough to ask “Why is tonight different from all other nights?”

Oh, the Embassy also sponsored egg decorating on Thursday afternoon. Here's Ruth Anne at work sorting:

And her art work:

Joe took the day off on Friday but Mehri was still here. Joe and I we able to go to adoration for some actual quiet prayer. In the afternoon, we read the Passion and Joe worked on hot crossed buns. We had red beans and rice for lunch and dinner. Good Friday is not an eating holiday, of course, but this was really a fine meal. In Trinidad, hot crossed buns are served Good Friday morning, but that's after hiking Stations of the Cross. We didn't work that hard at Stations this year and so had our hot crossed buns on Glorious Saturday morning. I'd rave and post pictures but the baker would like to go into the details of what made these so fabulous himself.

In the afternoon, we went to another play. This time it was a Russian folktale about how a magic fish helps Foolish Emil get the Zarinia. I couldn't understand a line of dialogue even in prose but got the outline. Ruth Anne was amazingly well behaved even with me there. (Last night, she told me "briss" which is how you shoo a cat in Russian because I had the chair she wanted.) She nibbled apples (they vend snacks, so eating okay) and watched the show. We're hoping for similar luck at Easter Vigil, because in spite of what I said about late services in a foreign language with a toddler, we don't want to miss it.