Summertime and the livin is easy

The summer solstice may not be until June, but as far as I'm concerned, summer has come. The first fruit has come, syrupy sweet: strawberries first, which became bars and two strawberry rhubarb pies in one week, followed by cherries and almost, now, apricots.

The trees along the street produce a sickeningly sweet pollen. Among those trees are too many swallows to count. Along the roadsides I spy gorgeous Rollers in all their blue and rufous glory. There are dragonflies and butterflies winging along the river.

Poppies began spreading along the roads and into the fields in April.

Outside the library.

On May 1st, roses have erupted everywhere, and they have been multiplying in a fury ever since. "Rose" in Tajik is " садбарг (sad barg)," which literally means "100 petals." A row of men sell flowers under a САДБАРГ sign every day of the year, while a restaurant behind them takes the same name, and is one of the nicest places to sit outside with an ice cream under their willow trees. 

From our kitchen window.

Ice cream is part of my daily diet. 

In America we mark the beginning of summer with Memorial Day. Here, we began May with two holidays from the Soviet era: 1 May (Labor Day) and 9 May (Victory Day). Regardless of the holidays' purpose, our celebrations were pure summer.

May 9 involved a long hike in a village. Students kept asking me why I was looking at the sky (wishing I had binoculars to look at the hawks).  I stopped and took photos of flowers, and this grasshopper, but didn't get a photo of my first Tajik toad.

I spent both days the following weekend having picnics. Sarah and I taught schoolchildren to pay modified American Football in the Botanical Garden on Saturday, and then on Sunday a group of students from the American Corner kept trying to teach me how to throw a football correctly during our daylong excursion by the river away from the city (I tried to tell them that I have been a failure at this my whole life in America, but that did not deter them from trying). 

Explaining the rules of our game

Botanical Garden Picnic.

I wear sandals every day. Sometimes I wear sunglasses. When on a picnic or kayaking, I wear a hat.

It may not be high summer - there is not yet mellon, and I can't say that "the cotton is high" - but all of these things unequivocally mean summer to me. 

Walking to the river near Палос (Palos). 

Playing Hearts by the river as the wind picked up.

Advice on Visiting Tajikistan

I started to write a long email to my friend on what he should expect when he arrives next Monday, and then decided to share it here for anyone Googling "Travel Tajikistan." Of course there is infinitely more to say, and there are websites with much more, but this is the very short what you need to know upon arrival in Tajikistan:

You are now able to get a 2-week tourist visa on arrival at the airport in Dushanbe, but I had a friend who was lucky enough to arrive in a week when there were "technical malfunctions" and so he had to stay in Istanbul for three days to get a visa there and wait for the next flight. (On the bright side, when you get a visa in Istanbul, you get a sweet tourist map and postcards of Tajikistan). [more visa details written by my friend at the bottom of the page] You don't have to register if you are staying less than 30 days (be grateful - this is an un-fun post-Soviet habit). On the other hand, the U.S. government would advise U.S. citizens to register online with their Smart Traveller Enrollment Program.

Most people from the west fly Turkish Air through Istanbul. The flight goes twice a week, Sunday and Wednesday nights, and arrives in Dushanbe at 3:45 am the next morning. Don't worry - things will be open by the time you get out of the airport at 5 or 6 a.m. 

Mosque in Istaravshan.

Why does it take so long? It is a small airport. Because the mass of people shoving towards passport control is chaotic and suffocating and there are no lines. As a foreigner, you need to grab two forms on the right when you come in. One of these is a long rectangle with the same information on the right and the left. There is a colorful advertisement for one of the phone companies on the back. At passport control they will rip the paper and keep one half and give you the other. You must not lose this paper - they will ask for it when you leave the country. I staple it in my passport. The other piece of paper you need to remember is the baggage-check slip that they gave you when you checked your bag wherever you originated - after you have perhaps waited a long time for the luggage to appear, on your way out of the airport they will collect your luggage tag. 

You will emerge into a swarm of people waiting in the morning sun. If you are lucky a friend will meet you - if not there are plenty of taxi drivers ready to relieve you of your bag. 

You probably want money - I find it is easiest to withdraw from the Bankomat (ATM). You can withdraw somoni everywhere and USD in some places (I use USD only to pay my rent).  There are also many money exchange places on the street. Credit cards are useless.

Finding things like bankomats is easiest if you take some time to learn the Cyrillic alphabet - or at least a few minutes to look it over (Learn in 5 minutes for Russian or this chart for Tajik/Latin/Persian comparison).

If you need to bring a gift for an American, coffee is appreciated (this is another way of saying: prepare to drink Nescafe for the duration of your stay). 

Хуш омадед!

Tajikistan culture visible: курта (kurta - national dress; mine is made from атлас (atlas - national fabric), дастархон (dartarkhan - table cloth/spread), кӯрпача ( kurpаcha - mattresses/beds), general guest-ing

For more:

This guy seems to have very helpful and up-to-date information: http://caravanistan.com/travel/tajikistan/

I know someone working on this website, which is trying to become a more helpful guide to Dushanbe (if you're coming for longer, read this post on everyday Tajik customs: http://menu.tj/en/posts/culture-un-shock/)

More visa info from said friend who just got his visa in Istanbul: 

1-All the Tajikistan government web stuff says that if you are coming in from a nation that has a Embassy or Consular office you need your visa prior to entry. The guy I talked to in Istanbul at the consulate said the same. 

2-You can get 30, 60, or 90 day tourist visas. The 30 day is 50 USD (only USD accepted). Perhaps the 2 week visa is still availabe at the airport. 

3-If you are trying to do this in Istanbul it is hard to find the consulate. The train station/neighborhood it is in is called Florya. But there is no train station working right now  - it looks like it is under renovation. I can put togeather a google map+street view if you want. 

4-Bring your passport and a couple photo copies and a few passport-sized photos of yourself. It also helps to print out and fill out two copys of the visa application available online after some searching.

Debate (Part 2) and a Postcard from Kyrgyzstan

I said before that I cared more about my students in Khujand than the tournament that was to come in Dushanbe. That was before we went to Dushanbe for the First National English Debate Tournament (March 29-31). I still am proud of what we did in Khujand, but being with students from all over the country brought it to a new level. Granted, there were many differing levels of debate experience and ability, but the excitement of a tournament - with four preliminary rounds in which everyone would compete - was motivation to make all of them improve immensely.

I was staying with the main organizer, and was part of the late-night planning and anxiety about making everything run smoothly. I was one of the judges; I (hilariously) gave the orienting/rules presentation to the debaters while the judges were meeting; I ended up giving out the certificates at the end. The whole thing took place at the gorgeous Ismaili Centre, which made everything more graceful. I enjoyed the planning and the executing and the walking around with my students in the city and the talking in the car through the snow on the seven hours back home. 

There are plenty more photos where those came from; and the video that Areebah and I finally had time to make - a version of the presentation we did in Nepal for future English teachers.

Of course, pretty much as soon as we put it together, we realized how little we knew about international debating and learned a whole lot. We made it to the Asia Youth Forum, after a flurry of calls to parents about permissions and passports all during and before and after the tournament in Dushanbe.

I will let IDEA describe it:

The Asia Youth Forum, one of many regional versions of the IDEA Global Youth Forum, is a two-week experience that combines the Karl Popper Debate Championship, educational tracks (including our Mixed Teams Track which brings students from different countries and different levels of experience together in a peer-to-peer learning experience) and tournaments that allow the speakers to put their newly-acquired skills into practice. Find out more at ayf.idebate.org

This year, AYF was at Lake Issykkul in Kyrgyzstan - but we were more in Debate-istan than Kyrgyzstan. They ran a full schedule for the kids, who learned a lot. They had to really work and prepare for their cases - I'm not sure I would have the intellectual stamina to prepare again and again on the same topic in another language. I joined them the second week, for various reasons, and so entered this culture with full awareness of my ignorance and a bit of trepidation. I was glad to see my students, and intrigued by the trainers and coaches. The Tajik students did really well; one of my students from Khujand made it to the Semi-Finals in the Mixed Team Tournament, while the winning team included one student from Khorog and one from Dushanbe.

This was where we were staying. Yes, you should visit Issykkul.

There are too many photos to count: the Russian IDEA Facebook page, all of my students' Facebook posts, the Asia Youth Forum website. They also interviewed people on what digital freedom means to them and in their countries, and my video is one of the ones that has been posted.  More importantly, the talent show hit "Debate Me, Maybe" has reached YouTube - again courtesy of Areebah's editing.

The view from our room.

Because there are few flights in Central Asia, we had to spend two nights in Bishkek before flying back to Tajikistan. It was fun to compare the city to Dushanbe. The same streets! The same buildings! The same monuments! Only it's Manas instead of Somoni. And their flagpole is pitiful. But Bishkek in general is so much bigger, there's so much more Russian, and so many more restaurants. We went to Sierra Cafe and couldn't stop gushing about how much it felt like America (it's more than the coffee - it's the atmosphere with the bookshelves and the baristas and - I'll stop). We had Texas-style BBQ for dinner.  Our guide to all of this was a Bishkek ETA, and we saw a bit of Bishkek with him: his university, the new mall, TSUM for gifts, attempts to visit closed-on-Monday museums.

We returned home on April 23 to TV cameras at the airport - and then a long drive to Khujand, with one student asleep on each shoulder in the middle seat of the taxi. According to their presentation yesterday at the American Corner, they not only made friends that they left with tears, but also learned about the roles in Karl Popper, what clash points are in a debate, more ideas about Digital Freedom than they ever thought to have, the importance of team-building and sportsmanship, and how to communicate with people from other countries when it is difficult. That's a success to me.

Five Months

On Sunday I submitted my Mid-Year Report, which is required of all Fulbright grantees half-way through their grant period. Which means that it has been five months since I landed in Dushanbe, and now there are less than five months left. All of a sudden, ten months seems not long at all, and I realize that I will soon be one of the Sharons and Davids that people here remember coming and leaving. 

Marking January 1st - while fun - was not as meaningful to me. I still measure my life in school years. If I am to measure by calendar year, then I should be reflecting on all of 2012: writing my senior essay and hanging out in our common room and graduating and the Cove and Tajikistan. It is a colorful and exciting collage, but not a cohesive whole. Rather than making New Year's Resolutions, I have made Fulbright Resolutions, or perhaps Fulbright Realizations: what I have realized since August 20, and what I plan to realize by June 13, when I fly back to the U.S.  

My Fulbright Renewals are the result not only of realizing I am half-way, but also the result of returning after a month of traveling. First to Nepal, then return-trip detour to Almaty, then back in Khujand for a week of winter, then to Italy, where I met my family and celebrated Christmas. I arrived again in Dushanbe on New Year's Eve and came back to Khujand three days later when my baggage arrived. 

I was met at the American Corner by a flurry of students finishing their applications for the Global UGrad progam. I was swept into essay-reading and turning away reference requests. In the three weeks since, I have made myself much busier than I was September-November. I now have morning classes, instead of lazy planning sessions. One is my new series of TOEFL preparation trainings (the American Corner as a Public Organization is not legally qualified to teach 'classes,' only provide 'trainings'). That involved a sign-up, a test to scare people away, and fighting away late-comers. I also have a "Reading Club" (read-aloud time) and a Hunger Games book club. I am teaching an advanced writing workshop (we are working on essays, starting with a biography - think middle school). I am trying to start a competitive debate club, rather than my open-to-all debate/ activity/ discussions. I have had extra classes with visiting groups of 30 kids each from two different nearby towns. I have put a lot of time into thinking about how to teach about Martin Luther King, Jr. and the inauguration.

I have benefited from taking to heart another ETA's self-identification as an after-school programmer rather than a teacher. Extracurricular is a better word: you cannot be 'after school' if there is no school. The government declared there would be no school in January this year because it was supposed to be too cold to heat classrooms - something that does not happen every year, but did happen last year. University students are either in exams or on break. The American Corner is crowded. 

This means I come home more tired and stay up late planning - but now I have real coffee to help me get up in the mornings. And when I am teaching, I am moving and thus warmer than sitting in one place. 

January has been milder than (the one week I saw of) December, but it is still cold. My winter wardrobe includes a scarf every day - worn tied behind my head with the ends hanging - plus leggings, pants, turtleneck, sweater, coat, gloves. All of those are worn inside as well as outside. It used to include black boots, but the heel broke and I haven't had time to take it to the cobblers at the bazaar (they fixed both zippers on the same boots for 5 somoni). 

Our water is not the most reliable: pipes have frozen twice, and the pump stopped working once, but now it just ebbs and flows throughout the day so sometimes we have to turn on the pump to get any warm water or even to get enough to wash the dishes. 

I eat a lot of soup. I made some delicious braised cabbage this week. I try to remember to get vitamins somehow, even though vegetable selection is sparse and I forget about the fruit when it is not shoved at me (apples are now 7 somoni a kilo instead of 1 somoni/free in buckets in the fall). I drink a lot of honey-and-lemon. Lemons here are large and sweet and more lemon-y. 

More plans to realize: See a game of buzkashi. Celebrate Navruz exuberantly. Go hiking. Use my binoculars and my new Guide to the Birds of Central Asia. Try to learn more Tajik music. Actually study Tajik vocab. Spend more time with people. 

The hardest questions for me to answer in my mid-year report were in the "Cultural and Social Adjustment" section. 

1. What were your strategies for getting acquainted with the people and the culture? 
2. What kind of changes did you make in order to adjust to the local culture?  

"Were," "did;" do they mean that my adjusting is all in the past? I am comfortable here, and I think I often know what to expect, so in that sense, yes. But while I might be "adjusted," I am merely "acquainted" with people and culture, and I agree - I do not feel that I know much of anything. I ended up answering in the past tense what I was really meant as directions to my future self for the rest of my time: Be available and present with people.  Listen more than I talk. Work on figuring out when and how to hang out with people. Continue trying to figure out everything.

Notes about Nepal

Nepal was amazing. My overall impressions were "Color!" and "So Many People! (including Tourists!)" I have never been to South Asia, and this was a fascinating introduction. 

I was skeptical before we went:excited to go (on the State Department's dollars), but also confused about what we were going to be conferring about and how it could help us. In the end, it was mostly an opportunity to talk with our compatriots in other countries. 

Hike on our third day: from Telkot to Changu Narayan.

We were technically attending the "Fulbright South and Central Asia Regional English Teaching Assistant Enrichment Seminar." It involved not only the ETAs, but also teachers leading sessions on teaching skills and tools, some of which were very helpful (I was inspired by an energetic and wily older British woman who has been an English teacher in Nepal for over 30 years; one potential future self).

The Tajik ETAs strike a Lenin pose in front of a view on the hike.

We spent all week talking about our teaching experiences - the difficulties - and bragging about our host countries - why you should come visit us. For some it was a mental health break from hard posts. For us, it was an exciting window into other cultures. In the words of one of my colleagues (sorry, a common word here): it was a good kick in the butt. Though our experiences are so different in different countries, so many of the other ETAs were inspiring, or at least exciting to get to know. 

One of our teaching sessions with a Senior ELF in the courtyard of our hotel.

There were 40 of us: we four from Tajikistan, two each from Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan, and then eight from our Nepali host country, four from Bangladesh, five from Sri Lanka, and fifteen from India. We were all together during our Pre-Departure Orientation in Austin last June, but we were also grouped with Sub-Saharan Africa, and countries tended to flock together, so I don't remember meeting anyone in the India group. We are all at different stages in our grants: the India group left the U.S. two days after our Austin meeting, while the Bangladesh group haven't even started teaching yet. Even more diverse are our teaching placements: Tajikistan is the only country where ETAs are not placed in schools. Elsewhere in Central Asia, they are in universities as well as American Corners. In India and Nepal, they are placed in elementary school classrooms, often with classes of 50-70 kids, dealing with first-graders and 10th-graders. So our teaching challenges are very different. But sharing was still worthwhile. 

Areebah and I gave a presentation on Debate in Tajikistan. Others 
presented on different classroom techniques and challenges.

We felt a responsibility to let the rest of the conference know that Tajikistan exists. We started our presentation acknowledging that no one in America knows it exists.  I also put forward a (fragile) hypothesis that we are the fulcrum of cultures that makes sense of South and Central Asia together. We are closer to the rest of Central Asia and the post-Soviet culture, but the Persian language and culture connect us to South Asia and via language (Urdu is heavily influenced by Persian) and visual culture (i.e. clothing: Tajik kurta and izor are similar to shalwar kameez).

Tajikistan group presentation with the slide showing the above link.

The conference was technically only four days: Monday-Thursday. We were supposed to arrive Sunday and leave Friday. But, of course, there are not many flights from Central Asia, so we had to arrive Saturday (which meant leaving Dushanbe Friday, which meant leaving Khujand Wednesday night to make sure I arrived in time). Then we wanted to spend extra time, as long as we were flying such a long way, so I stayed until Sunday, and the other Tajikistan ETAs decided to stay until the next Wednesday. [In the end I arrived back at the same time as the others, due to my travel glitch.]

A Nepali (Buddhist?) traditional parting gift during our closing ceremony.

The four Tajikistan ETAs.

It was also a luxurious vacation: I had real coffee most days, and there was WiFi available for friends with smart phones. Food was made for us. We talked furiously the whole time in real, fluent English. I went to a movie theater, where I saw Life of Pi in 3D (and it was amazing) (and in English). I spent money on souvenirs in Thamel, the shopping area fiendishly cheap and enticing. An area I actually wanted to shop: scarves, warm woolen things (pashmina, cashmere), and handmade paper goods (stationary! journals!). I got to see tourist sites and learn about cultures I know nothing about. I learned about Hinduism and Buddhism - or just the hints at how little I know, and how little of the temple iconography I understood. 

Holiday Card photo at Bhaktapur.

The photos are mostly from our more touristy excursions: Boudhananth, a Buddhist stuppa where I couldn't stop myself buying two thanka (Buddhist paintings), Pashupati, where Hindus burn their dead, and Bhaktapour, an old city nearby filled with temples. Areebah and I also went on a plane flight and saw Everest. I could say more about all of them, but this is already too long - I recommend going yourself.

Boudhananth stuppa.

At the thanka workshop next to Boudhananth.

At Swayambunath when it got cold, with a new scarf.

At Swayambunath.

View from the plane. Everest is the pyramid-shaped peak in the back-right. What was amazing was not so much Everest as the many mountains that are nearly as tall, and the many peaks down below the clouds.

Everest is the pyramid-shaped peak in the back-center. Apparently these flights don't have the best safety records, but we just had to do it.

Because if you didn't get a certificate, then it didn't happen. This is something we see a lot here, so Areebah and I laughed to be given certificates after our 6 a.m. flight. (Yes, it is "Yeti Airlines".)

[More photos of Nepal from my friends are on Facebook, since I am bad at remembering to take photos]

Winter Wonderland

It is so nice to be home in Khujand. I realized when I arrived that I had missed it. It is so nice to know where things are, and to know what people are saying. It has become true winter. It snowed this week. The library put out carpets along the granite walkway so people don't slip. The supermarket also put carpet on its steps - and I had to step around a stray dog who realized that that was the warmest place he could be. Khujand's winter wind has arrived with it: last Sunday it was "12F, feels like -6F." I am in more layers than I wore in Almaty.

Sorry for not specifying earlier, but the travel home from Kazakhstan was eventually successful. It was not certain: after missing the flight Tuesday, I went to the very helpful men in the USAID travel section, who told me that the Ministry of Foreign Affairs was closed on Wednesday and 'they often take five days to process visas, so you need to be prepared to not make your flight on Friday'. But I did. Of all the potential answers to "everything happens for a reason," the most compelling is that I was meant to arrive in Dushanbe with all of my fellow ETAs. And then I hopped straight onto the plane to Khujand, and spent a very pleasant flight talking to a new friend who even drove me home to our apartment.

Once home, though I was happy about snow, our apartment building was not happy about the cold: we were without water for three days, and the eventual solution involved breaking into the empty apartment next door with a crowbar and holding a hairdryer against the dusty pipes until the water unfroze. Now we are supposed to keep a constant drip of running water to prevent re-freezing (I'm sorry, Burgundy!).

But we could stay warm with my souvenirs and gifts from Kathmandu: scarves for Sarah and Madina, and wool throw blankets for the apartment, which became a stylish shawl when worn to the American Corner. I gave a presentation about Nepal, showing them thankas and rupees and prayer flags. They were excited to hear, and I was excited to be back at the American Corner and to share.

My TOEFL students are my favorite (don't tell), because I actually see them regularly and have gotten to know them. Our last class was on Wednesday, and I had prepared surveys for them to fill out, printed out certificates (with out new color printer!), and made brownies. I was utterly surprised when they had a present for me. It was so sweet, and they were all so earnest in their thanks. They wanted me to know that they appreciated the class, but also that they were thinking of me since I was far from my family for the holidays. The present was one of the decorated cardboard New Year's boxes that they sell in the grocery, with chocolate inside (I think I talk too much about how I like chocolate). Only when I got home did I see their note, written on a 3D Christmas tree card.

Well, not Christmas tree - New Year's tree (in Tajik, archa). I had no idea how much Russian New Year's celebrations and decorations have become part of the Tajik December. In the middle of Lenin street there is a huge tree, which is lit up at night, and a stage behind where there are now concerts every day at 2 p.m. We foreigners see Santa faces on the tree, and tinsel and other Christmas decorations in the bazaar. They see a New Year tree and "Boboi Barfi" (Father Snow).

The courtyard between the mosque and Panjshanbe bazaar currently features a large New Year's tree and several Father Frosts willing to take a photo with you. 

Either way, 'tis the season. The week has been full of talking and dinners: at the Grand Hotel with Embassy visitors, in our kitchen with a neighbor bringing coffee and at a friend's apartment with pasta, tea and decorations. I downloaded albums from my two favorite singers of Christmas songs: Michael Bublé and Nat King Cole. They've been on repeat as I drink Seattle's Best Coffee from our new drip coffee maker.

Although it's been said, many times, many ways, Merry Christmas to you.

Postcard from Almaty; or Airport (mis)Adventures

I am on my way back from our Fulbright ETA conference in Nepal. I was planning on starting a post about Nepal with something brief about our itinerary: Dushanbe - Almaty - Abu Dhabi - Kathmandu. How amazing and crazy it is that we can fly to three different airports with three different non-Latin alphabets in three days. On the way back, I began Sunday evening with tourists in expensive outdoor clothing in Kathmandu, then flew to Abu Dhabi in order to spend 13 hours in the airport overnight and was a little crazed despite the free WiFi, western coffee chain, and beautifully tiled ceiling. On Monday I flew to Almaty for a 16-hour layover - which is now extended indefinitely, since I missed my Tuesday flight to Dushanbe.

This is definitely the biggest travel mistake I have ever made, whether measured in time (no flight until Friday), money ($300 to switch my flight plus the $195 visa I thought I could get reimbursed for but cannot), or visa wrangling (in few other countries would it be so legally problematic to miss a flight). After being gone for almost two weeks, I had been really looking forward to arriving home in Khujand. I was distraught.

I was most upset about the blow to my pride. Missing the flight was entirely my fault - I was in the airport, at the gate - but the wrong gate, and I realized it five minutes too late. The fact that the flight was held as they called my name and I didn't hear it in their Russian announcement makes it worse. I didn't realize how much I thought of myself as someone who wouldn't do something like this, who wouldn't miss a flight for no reason. Pride comes before a fall.

But people quickly helped me put this fall into perspective. I was reading The Snow Leopard on the plane, and Peter Matthiessen's quest for Buddhism and natural science in Nepal reminded me that I have to accept what is. Others told me that I'm lucky to see another county, to enjoy the adventure, to make lemons from lemonade, and that everything happens for a reason. As I'm still in the lemon-squeezing stage, I'm not yet sure how the lemonade will taste, but I know that I am thankful for the support and the time to stop and think.

I am grateful to the many people who have taken time from their lives - full of other things to do - to help me, including my Fulbright coordinator in Dushanbe, the Fulbright coordinator in Kazakstan, and the travel section at USAID who are helping me to get my exit visa. Mostly I am thankful to the ELF here in Almaty, who has welcomed me into her (warm) apartment and talked with me for hours about everything from teaching TOEFL to how hard it is to shop for pants. Last night she took me to a coffee shop so trendy that I would have marveled at it even in NYC. She drew me a very helpful map so I can walk around and explore.

Almaty is a big city (the biggest in Kazakstan because it used to be the capital). Cars actually stop for pedestrians. Streets are lit at night. Women walk alone even when it is dark. The Kazak bills are so colorful. I know no Kazak and my Russian stops just beyond 'devushka' and 'spasiba', so I have gotten practice at smiling and making hand gestures. To use my English I visited the American Corner, and walked in just as a discussion club was supposed to take place and an American did not show up to lead it, so I did. They told me about Kazak history and holidays. It felt a bit like home, since everyone was so friendly and genuinely pleased to see me.

Today I have had the luxury to sleep, and write, and visit the coffee shop again. It is snowing. It is beautiful as it falls.