Ushu and Pizza

On Wednesday, Misha attended his first Ushu competition. It turned out to be really fun for him, as he was with several other boys and girls from his class, competing with other children from other schools. There were about 60 competitors, from elementary through high school, but they were all first-year students of Ushu. After changing into their outfits, the children were registered, grouped by age, and led up to the competing area. There, the groups moved around to several simultaneously-running stations, performing kicks, blows, the "18 forms" of traditional Ushu, and other tasks as judges rated them. 

Misha and Aidai performing kicks for the judges.

 

After the competition, the various clubs posed for photographs. Here is Misha with his club, Asman (meaning "Sky").

Twins Yan and Pasha, Timur, and Misha are in the same first-grade class and the same Ushu club.

Everyone performs their favorite Ushu moves.

All the competitors pose for a group photo. (Misha's in the bottom left.)

In this video, Misha performs part of a traditional sequence of Ushu moves, called the 18 Forms: 

After the photo session was a prompt award session, in which every child was a given a certificate with their point total on it and a sheet of cool Ushu pictures, and the top scorer in each group was named. I thought it was very nicely done, with the focus more on the spirit of displaying what they have learned rather than on who wins or doesn't win. Misha really enjoyed himself. Afterward, two other moms and I decided to go out for pizza with our boys. It was a really entertaining afternoon: three moms, plus four wild boys running around playing tag inside of a mostly-dead pizza place. Here we are: Baktigul (Kyrgyz mother of three from Bishkek), me, and Alesia (Russian mother of twins from Tashkent).

Baktigul, me, and Alesia.

Alesia has an American husband (but her twins do not speak English) so she has spent some time in America and was telling Baktigul some of the great American traditions. "Americans don't slave away in the kitchen every time guests come over," she said to a surprised Baktigul (imagine all of this in Russian). "Everyone just throws in $20 and then they get a Chinese take-out menu and order some of this, some of that, and then you have it delivered, and it comes in all these little boxes! And in the summer, they just do the grill - and they don't even have to do dishes because they use paper plates!" I laughed, because that's pretty much the case.

We had another funny discussion about names, stemming from the hullaballoo that Misha's name caused the judges. Russian names are always, always formed the same way: First Name, Otchestva (which is your father's first name), and Last Name. The most polite form of address to a person is to call them by their First Name and Otchestva. For example, Sebby's teacher is Galina Vladimirovna (which means her father's name is Vladimir) and Misha's teacher is Anastasia Nikolaiovna (because her father is Nikolai). Last names are not included at all. In fact, I don't even know the last names of my children's teachers. Since Russian names are such a mouthful, I find it hard to remember them. And poor Sebby - he simply calls his teacher "Galidirovna." Kyrgyz names are usually written one of two ways - the Soviet way which tacks on an -ov or -ova ending to the last name, or the Kyrgyz national way, which uses uluu or kyzy ("son of" or "daughter of"). Though the uluu/kyzy endings were popular following independence, the Russified names are now seen as more internationally friendly. Anyway, getting back to the story about the judges, they were baffled when they saw a child registered as Michael Adilet Kula. They insisted that there was a mistake. There's no way a "Michael" would have "Adilet" as an Otchestva. Misha's trainer had to explain, many times, that it was not a mistake, that was simply his name. Americans don't have otchestvas - just middle names. Baktigul, like most people we meet here, was quite surprised that we can arbitrarily choose our middle names. "But don't you call doctors and teachers by the first name and otchestva?" she asked. I said no, we simply say Mr. or Mrs. Last Name. And Alesia couldn't understand why we picked Adilet, a Kyrgyz name, for Misha's middle name, even when I explained that Misha was born in Kyrgyzstan. (Kyrgyz people, on the other hand, always light up with a proud grin when they find out Misha's middle name.)

(Side note: All these funny discussions that came up reminded me of a birthday party I went to last fall for my friend Marina. "Tell us something else funny about America!" she had urged, then completed her own request: "Oh, I know! They pull out their wisdom teeth when they're 18!")

In addition to cultural differences, we spent a good deal of time talking about - what else? - kids. Violin lessons, chess lessons, sibling rivalry, C-sections, birth weights, speech therapy, homework, girls vs. boys, favoritism, spoiling, etc. After several hours of snacking and sipping our cokes, beers, and tea, it was time to pick up Sebby at the sadik and attend a general parent meeting there. I use Russian every day, but this day was almost pure Russian from 11 until 6. It was very satisfying.

Pizza time - Yan, Misha, Pasha, Timur