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Cabin fever in Kazakhstan...
Dec. 5th, 2008 12:17 pmThe rocket is over at the "teh-zeh-peh," which is how one pronounces the Russian acronym (ТЗП) for the upper stage fueling station. I'm on call today, and there's been nary a peep on the radio.
This is, of course, a Good Thing™.
Our customer is planning another barbeque at lunch time, which will be a welcome change of pace, even though the Pinkertons provided one just a couple of nights ago with their burrito night. (The "taco night" business was a "bait-and-switch" - not that I'm complaining <grin> - it's just I don't think you'll find a taco shell within several days of here, at least not if you're riding on a camel.) It'll be interesting to see how this BBQ shapes up, as it's gotten noticeably colder outside since that first one, oh, so long ago (it seems).
And speaking of my social calendar, the word on the street is that Thaddeus S. - one of the Pinkertons - will be celebrating the "big Hawaii" ("five-oh," get it?) on Sunday, and that some kind of party is in the works. That'll dovetail nicely with the rocket rollout to the pad, that's for sure.
Thaddeus cuts a pretty striking figure, as he's a large man, taller than average and broad in the shoulders, with a resonant yet relaxed voice. He stands out even more in this neck of the woods as he is black.
It is curious to see the reaction of locals to black people. A couple of campaigns ago - it was in the late summer, I recall - I observed a child timidly come up to one of our black colleagues, cautiously rub her finger on his skin, and then look at her finger (to see, I guess, whether the color came off or not). The experiment was doubtless meant in an innocent way, but it underscored just how "not in Kansas" we are out here, both geographically and culturally.
By far the most common reaction - if you can call it that - is to ask out black colleagues for permission to be photographed standing together with them, perhaps the way many of us might ask a celebrity for a grip-and-grin with them if we happened to bump into them on Main Street back home.
During a town trip in the past July's campaign, for example, we ran across a wedding party in the main square, with the groom twirling his bride in his arms as three cars whooshed around them in a tight circle (don't try this at home, kids). Shortly after we got out of our van to take a look around, someone spotted our black Haitian-born DTSA monitor and the newlyweds were forgotten for a while as a small crowd gathered around him for a photo. The DTSA guy seemed to get a kick out of it, at any rate.
It's time to go get ready for lunch.
Cheers...
This is, of course, a Good Thing™.
Our customer is planning another barbeque at lunch time, which will be a welcome change of pace, even though the Pinkertons provided one just a couple of nights ago with their burrito night. (The "taco night" business was a "bait-and-switch" - not that I'm complaining <grin> - it's just I don't think you'll find a taco shell within several days of here, at least not if you're riding on a camel.) It'll be interesting to see how this BBQ shapes up, as it's gotten noticeably colder outside since that first one, oh, so long ago (it seems).
And speaking of my social calendar, the word on the street is that Thaddeus S. - one of the Pinkertons - will be celebrating the "big Hawaii" ("five-oh," get it?) on Sunday, and that some kind of party is in the works. That'll dovetail nicely with the rocket rollout to the pad, that's for sure.
Thaddeus cuts a pretty striking figure, as he's a large man, taller than average and broad in the shoulders, with a resonant yet relaxed voice. He stands out even more in this neck of the woods as he is black.
It is curious to see the reaction of locals to black people. A couple of campaigns ago - it was in the late summer, I recall - I observed a child timidly come up to one of our black colleagues, cautiously rub her finger on his skin, and then look at her finger (to see, I guess, whether the color came off or not). The experiment was doubtless meant in an innocent way, but it underscored just how "not in Kansas" we are out here, both geographically and culturally.
By far the most common reaction - if you can call it that - is to ask out black colleagues for permission to be photographed standing together with them, perhaps the way many of us might ask a celebrity for a grip-and-grin with them if we happened to bump into them on Main Street back home.
During a town trip in the past July's campaign, for example, we ran across a wedding party in the main square, with the groom twirling his bride in his arms as three cars whooshed around them in a tight circle (don't try this at home, kids). Shortly after we got out of our van to take a look around, someone spotted our black Haitian-born DTSA monitor and the newlyweds were forgotten for a while as a small crowd gathered around him for a photo. The DTSA guy seemed to get a kick out of it, at any rate.
It's time to go get ready for lunch.
Cheers...
