Six became five

Mark Schatte flew home this morning (last night, to you Americans), and our Irkutsk family got a little bit smaller. Mark made a huge impact on me in just the ten or so days that I've known him. I'm sure it had a lot to do with the struggle that we have in common, and the victory that we achieved together, but it is also because Mark is an exceptional person. I'll miss having him around, and not just at dinner time.

Yesterday, we traveled to Lake Bakhail (If I spelled that right, I'm shocked). It is one of, if not the, largest fresh water lakes in the world. The snow capped mountains around this gigantic frozen lake was a magnificent scene. We went to a small zoo, where we saw a huge bear, a few foxes that smelled like skunks, some sort of mountain lion, turkeys, and a buffalo. Evan stared in amazement, and I always checked to make sure the cages were locked. I was a little uneasy. We then went on a walking tour of an old Russian village. We saw homes, churches, shops, and a school. Evan then took a walk alone down a big hill toward the lake. He just took off without hesitation. Of course I never let him more than a few feet from me, but it is very cool to see how comfortable he is with his surroundings. He loves the outdoors. I can't wait to get him out in shorts and a tank top instead of all of the layers we have to put on him each time we go outside. The next stop was an acquarium, where Evan was a little scared of the big fish, but he laughed and laughed at the seals. By the time we got to the out door shops at the top of one of the mountains, we were hungry, and the kids had completely missed nap time. They were pretty good though, considering. Mark ate a smoked fish, that looked and smelled like it had just been removed from the hook. I've broadened my horizons as far as what I will and will not eat since I got here, but eating that fish was not going to happen, but Mark cleaned it to the bone. We had a goodbye Mark dinner at the resterant that we went to after court, and came home and put the two exhausted children to bed.

Evan doesn't say Papa much anymore, he says da-da. That's more like it. Evan's Kids can call me Papa. I'm working on how he says Mama. He says it almost like a French child. It comes out Mamaa. I'm trying to south it up some. Maaaama. Well, everyone take care, and in the words of the late Lewis Grizzard, if I ever get back to Georgia, I'm gonna nail my feet to the ground.

Clay