Friday, April 4, 2008

Eight Days and Counting

Is this my destination?

Irkutsk?

Of course not--it's Cross Plains, Wisconsin in the year of the great snows 2008. Certainly prepared me for a trip to Siberia.

Actually, the weather in Irkutsk is virtually the same as much of Wisconsin, with temperatures in April in the 40's most days. Looking to the day of our arrival the high is predicted to be 52, so not quite balmy Florida, but not so bad for a Wisconsin Spring.

Saturday, April 5, 2008

Six Day Left

When is there time? Even as I work here on a Saturday afternoon trying to update materials and prepare, I do wonder where the time went. There are an enormous number of 'details', from power conversions on the projector, to how to load powerpoints (that may or may not work), to having shirts folded rather than put on hangers and today the trip to Target for those things you just can't get somewhere else. My guess is that most attorneys who would love to participate in this program simply can not find the time to do it. Nor can I, but sometimes you just 'make time.' Of course today, as the temperature approaches 60 after a very long winter I think before the day is out I'll set-up outside (perhaps as we grill-up some brats (now there's something we're not likely to see in Siberia....)).

Sunday, April 6, 2008

Five Days to Go

Wednesday, April 9, 2008

Three Days To Sibera

Thursday, April 10, 2008

24 Hours to Take-off

I was plucked from the midst of forest fires (with two of my children and brother) by floatplane and survived a plane crash (with my wife, Karen) in Alaska on the way to Japan. So, from this one might think it's a bid hard to be married to such a guy. (Dah!) Well today in the last e-mail from our host in Irkutsk, Karen learned that she is scheduled ot teach English for nearly as many class hours as I am scheduled to teach Law. After the initial shock--it is, afterall (and everyone would agree on this) my fault--she's now off to the teacher stores for materials, and she certainly knows how she'll be spending her time on the plane. (I'm not sure about what aspects of "family law" I should now teach....)

Of course, I also learned last night that the portable projector and my computer have decided the too do not want to go Siberia, and I forgot to get our Wills signed in time and.... As my Uncle Andrew would say, "Are we having fun now."

It will all work out and it is exciting!

Friday, April 11, 2008

On To Russia

Here we are at the airport--and we'll be on airplanes or in airports for next 36+hours. It's a glorious sunny cool day in Chicago, a great day to begin. The ticket agent at the counter said he has been working for decades and has never checked in someone to Irkutsk. We had to move items from one suitcase to another to get under the weight, and with all the electronics I think we set a new record for inspections at the security line.

We were with all of our kids last night in Chicago and it was interesting that they, of course, are concerned that we are going somewhere remote. However, we grew-up at a time when the Soviet Union was the most evil spot on the planet, our sworn enemy intent on our destruction (they really were)(Some may remember, as I did, practicing for a nuclear war by hiding under the desk at Holy Cross Grade School, or building a shelter with supplies in the basement. Then there was that day we thought it was all over and we prayed to survive as there was a showdown between the U.S. and Cuba/Bay of Pigs/Kennedy v. Castro/Kruschev.). So for our generation there is a sense of trepidation much different that is premised on our long held views of who the Russians are. It must be similar for an Arab or Palestinian child steeped in fear and hatred of America or Isreal when they finally travel here or to Isreal. The fears are generational and it takes generations to overcome those fears & prejudices.

Amazing that Russia would even allow an American Lawyer to talk of the Bill of Rights, but that is what we will be doing.

Monday, April 14, 2008

Wow!!!

Wow, what a trip! Forget everything you have heard about Russians and what Russia is like--those stereotypes utterly fail here in Irkutsk. Our hosts could not be more alive, vibrant and just plain nice. (It's a bit like Wisconsin, isn't it?) It was, of course, snowing when we arrived at 5:30 a.m. on Sunday morning at a remote and deserted airport. The baggage claim was in a small very run-down old wooden shed, and it consisted of a handmade metal circle connected through a wooden wall to rollers. The bags were set on the rollers outside and landed on the metal ring to rotate, and let me tell you there was no way you were going to leave that wooden hut until the checkout lady compared your tag to the baggage claim. Still, Galena met us with a van (lucky as we pack like Americans--too much), and she spoke flawless English as she directed the driver to our apartment for the next three weeks at 22 Gorky Street. (I can not figure out how to add pictures right now, so I'll try tomorrow. This computer is entirely in Russian, with Russian prompts, so I'm guessing, at best.) Our Apartment is wonderful--two bedrooms, a kitchen, bath and separate toilet across the street from a bust of Gorky, around the corner from a Lenin Statue and several blocks from a statue of Czar Alexander, the Czar who conceived and completed the Trans-Siberian Railway through Irkutsk.

At 2 p.m. we met the law school dean for lunch, with Galena & Svetlana (both translators) and Elena a professor at the Law School. Our lunch conversation dispelled so much, including religion (they are in the midst of Russian Orthodox Lent, so much for godless russia), communism/socialism--now given way fully to a capitalist view that thinks of central government as something to avoid, and diversity. (We assumed Russia to be fairly homogeneous, but learned that the indigenous populations have been fully incorporated, including into the looks and genetic heritage of our hosts.) We then took a walking (cold) tour and Galena, Svetlana and Elena could not have been more willing to answer any question and generally act as the finest hosts you could imagine.

This is a city of 60,000 students in a population of 600,000. There are very successful energy companies headquartered here and the shopping includes a promenade of a stores on Karl Marx Street of Cartier, Benetton, and a host of other fine clothiers and jewelers. Students and others go to China (a 2 hour flight to the South) for 'cheap' shopping and vacations, and Chinese 'illegal immigrants' do much of the physical labor here (sound familiar....). Of course, the buildings are in desperate need of repair, but that should be expected for a place that 15 years ago had no capital for any projects, and now is booming with a new spirit (or at least it seemed so to us).

It is still cold and it is still Siberia, but the warmth of our hosts and the vibrancy of the place make is something very special. There is much much more to add, but I promised myself that I would try to keep posts short enough to read. I also hope I can figure out how to add pictures as I have many that you will find enjoyable. (Moscow Airport is now officially the worst airport I've visited. Yes, even worse than O'Hare. But that's a story for another day.)

Tomorrow morning is my first class, and folks here are so excited that the Dean and 7 instructors will be joining a specially selected class of 41 students (they had to pass a test to qualify to take the class) to watch me perform for 3+ hours. (More workshops are now scheduled with the faculty, in addition to the full load of classes each day.) The electronics all checked out this afternoon...but we'll see in the morning. It was a very long trip, but already it seems to be something special and important and I can hardly wait to get started with teaching in the morning.

One final thought for the day: These Russians seem far more interesting and far more like Americans than any of the Europeans I have met in recent years. The "Why" is somethign for a future post.

"Das Vidanya"

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

First Day of Class

Our apartment at 22 Gorky Street, Irkutsk

As promised, here is a picture of some of our hosts. Svytlana (Translator), me, Elena (Law School Professor) and Gala(Translator). We are at the central square (it's really a triangle) on Sunday afternoon April 13. It was in the 20's, a bit of flurries and a crisp day for a walk. (Today it seems to be in the high 30's or low 40's, sunny and bright with a bit of early Spring in the air.)

The First day of class was Standing Room Only in a large room with a few over 50 students and instructors. The powerpoint worked well with their projector (so for now my portable projector was unneeded). The students were very intelligent and a bit scared as I called on them at random to talk. I explained the Socratic method as something they should blame on my Greek relatives, but by the time they realized I would not let them off the hook I had hands raised, volunteers and more than a bit of real argument going. Some students were able to speak English reasonably well, while others did not have a clue and so they stayed with Russian. My two translators were excellent. The students and staff seemed genuinely excited (the Dean sat-in and seems very very proud of her students, justifiably so if today proves the norm). When I asked three questions at the end, in writing, to see if they really understood the material I had nearly 100% correct from everyone. (Thanks to James for this suggestion to see if the students really understood--and we'll try to do it every day.) We have no less than 3+hours of class every day--tomorrow its the U.S. Constitution and Bill of Rights--with some days of 6-8 hours of class and movies. (And this is the norm both for students and professors here.)

Most impressive was our discussion of the Declaration of Independence--Are there really self evident truths? Are all men created equal? and especially I left them with--Why did these very successful men pledge there lives, their fortunes and their sacred honor to this? What would you be willing to give your life for?

I offered to bring the popcorn for tomorrow afternoon's movie (A Few Good Men) and got some great laughs. I also offered the highest grade to anyone who could find somewhere to take me fishing--no takers yet. (With luck we will have some pictures of the class tomorrow to share.) Thanks again to Fran for the pictures of the Hayward Musky, Farmers Market and Holstein's--the point was made that my home is not New York.

A "supermarket" is defined as almost anything larger than 10x10 that has soda, water and packaged food, but we located a real supermarket yesterday(not Woodmans, but about the size of an old-fashioned small town grocery) that seems to carry almost everything you would expect. So, tomorrow we'll try to have breakfast in the apartment, though tonight we will likely go out for the first time to a resturaunt (otherwise our meals have been provided by the University). There are all types of resturaunts, even one in a Bowling Alley--yes, a bowling alley (this really must be Wisconsin, and we won't leave until we've bowled....). We have plenty of coffee and Coke.

A longtime friend mentioned before I left that there are houses here that are akin to 'fairy-tale' homes of gingerbread and logs. Yes there are--everywhere. Many are in disrepair, but hopefully they will be preserved as things inevitably will change in this extraordinary place. We will certianly include some pictures of those homes in a future post. Thinking of those homes, I began reading the Narnia Chronicles on the way, and it's good to be reading of fairy tales at my age. I must say this certainly feels a bit like a fairy tale, and not much like work.

One of the pictures of Apartment above shows a log building (with ugly signs) next door. That is a very ornate gate to the grounds of the University between the log building and our apartment. Our apartment is newly remodeled, and far better than we expected. It is provided at no charge by the University for our visit.

To further dispel rumors we heard before leaving: All the materials we sent were copied for all of the 50 or so attending the class--so much for worries about paper and copiers. There are stores in the University Buildings with supplies of all types. Though there is no wireless access, the projectors and IT group were as good as one could hope for (so far). The students certainly dress better than those at UW, and though the 'costume' may be different, it's clear that students watch to make sure they dress like everyone else. (including the tallest black high-heeled boots possible on the young ladies). One bit of difference, there was a tasting stand for a new brand of Rum in the hallway so I gather age is no restriction.

Please leave a Comment, if just to say you've dropped by for a visit. Of course, if you have any question let us know. Hope you are finding this enjoyable to read. "Das Vidanya"

Wednesday, April 16, 2008

An Emotional Moment

Picture this: I am in Russia within a few miles of the center of the Soviet Nuclear and Chemical/Biological weapons programs. There are 40+ young law students from all over Russia and Communist Mongolia in a dark room watching a movie. The essence of that movie is the likelihood of war between this country in which I am sitting and my home, and the principles posed are the moral right & wrong of following orders to kill Russians or be killed. At the center of the storm lies the inexplicably critical role of attorneys. Truly an unimaginable moment as the students applauded loudly and thanked us over and over at the end. I suppose I'm just an old guy, getting too emotional, but there were tears in my eyes.

For three hours earlier today we discussed the Bill of Rights and its guarantees of Free Speech, the Right to Bear Arms, the prohibition of unreasonable search and seizure....The debate--yes they are really debating with me in true Socratic dialogue, as well as loudly and emotionally with each other--was something any American lawyer would have enjoyed and most would have found nearly unimaginable in this place. Our chief translator, Galina, told me at the break that only 10 years ago this could not have occurred, and yet now these young people are engaged in a way I only wish we could see in America. They want those freedoms and guarantees so much. This is a genie that is out-of-the-bottle; I doubt it can ever be put back.

Some additional background we have learned:Baikal State Univesity of Economics and Law has 19,000 students, with approximately 1500 in the law school (300/yr). The facilities are, by Western standards, not very good with all the students in six interconnected buildings, and everyone of them in the halls as we pass. (Dorms are miles away reached by public bus.) Many of the students come from the most remote villages, towns and cities on the planet as well as neighboring Mongolia. There are no offices for professors, though I am told there is an excellent library. The buildings are all, of course, old and in need of major repairs (I still can't find a bathroom.) Yet none of that matters as the students and faculty are obviously dedicated and the chief of public relations told us he travels to more tha 70 schools each year to 'recruit' students to come to this Univesity(students pay a nominal tuition, with some fully paid by the government). The student and faculty openly speak of transforming this country to a democracy and a capitalist economy.

Karen had her first day of teaching today. She met with the faculty of the language department over the past several days in developing a curriculum which, when she finally began today turned out to be completely wrong. But, after raising three kids and putting up with me these many years, 'adapting to the conditions' is, well, second-nature. She had a ball! Tomorrow she has, I think, even more hours of teaching than I have.

Tomorrow we will be discussing the Rule of Law--the movie we watched, a Few Good Men, Marbury v. Madison and Bush v. Gore.

By the weekend, we will certainly be ready for a bit of rest. (But, they have plans for us all weekend.)

Please drop us a line by Comment. We are a long way from home. (By the way, Karen's students could not believe the pictures of the snow at our house. They never have that much here in Irkutsk, Siberia!)

Thursday, April 17, 2008

Our Hosts

The picture on the right is our primary host, Dean Elena of the School of Business and Civil Law. Aside from being a taskmaster of the first order--things start on time, she attends the presentations and now has asked me to add materials (thank you Fran), every student seems to know her, she demands things be set-up well in advance and takes umbridge if anyone (including me) even hints that equipment is not working, and (I have permission to say this from Karen) she is knock-down beautiful. This is a picture as she spoke to our first day's class. [I rather think she keeps coming by to watch to make sure I am not completely incompetent, which I probably am.]

The second picture, above on the left, is of Svetlana and Galina, my intepreters. Given that all the students have some proficiency in written English, and some can speak a bit while a few can speak English quite well, Galina and Svetlana are a godsend. They are doing this is volunteers as both have full class loads as English instructors in a different department. Svetlana's husband works for the FBI of Russia in white collar crimes (I guess now that they have 'businessmen', they can admit to 'business crimes'). Galina has a 16 year-old daughter and is attached these days to a judge whom we have not met. Galina works year round as on the side we understand she does tours for summer visitors. (We are headed out-of town with her this weekend on just such a tour.) I'm afraid Galina and Svetlana now know what it is like to work for an American lawyer--and I fear they'll soon be calling the Firm and telling folks to get me back home. I am not above begging them, bribing them or whatever it takes. They are really extraordinary. (Of course at times they talk with a student for several minutes and then the translation comes out as "They agree.")

The top right picture is, of course, of yours truly taken by Professor Karen Troupis of the Baikal Foreign Language department. Sorry about the exposure on all the pictures, but this is, afterall, Siberia and we must concede some difficulties.

So, last night we decided to go out to eat. Then, by the time we got to the apartment we were far to exhausted to even try. Instead, Professor Karen Troupis, now clearly in charge, 'suggested' I might want to go to a nearby stand to find something. Bad Idea. First, I had no idea where there would be a place to buy something because there is not one fast-food resturaunt, no Culvers even, in this city. (They lamented to us the first day the McDonalds refuses to consider any Russian city of less than 1 million.) Second, I can't even read the letters on the signs, much less understand the words (I guess they are words) on the signs. Off I go into the Siberian evening (it does not get dark until 9 p.m. ) in the quest of man from the beginning of time--to provide food for the household. As I had no gun, though I hear there are bears nearby (or at least seals in Lake Baikal), I wandered down Lenin Street in search of sustenance. As in looking for animal tracks in the wilderness, the trick to finding food in a Russian city is, of course, to look for a Coca Cola sign. By God (Russian's now agree, apparently there is one), I found a small grocery/convenience store. Now, things here are wonderful except the men (and I suspect the women als0) have not learned the value of a good deodarant. So, in a very crowded, very smelly little store I tried to figure out what was in the frozen food case--no clue! This would be the time, of course, that a striking young lady says something unintelligible (probably great poetry, or maybe "hi you dumb American") that suggest I better buy something quickly or she'll call the KGB. I grab the first thing on the top, hand it to her with a very large denomination Ruble bill (this is to avoid the further embarrassment of giving too little and then having to endure another glower) and head for the exit. Of course, when I return, Professor K.Troupis wants to know what I've got, and I admit I do not have a clue, but it looks marginally edible. Don't know what it is, don't know how to cook it, but heck it's from a grocery so it must be something to eat, right? After serious negotiations, and a failure to find anything in Russian for Dummies dictionary, we decide 'put it the oven and see what happens.' I set the oven at 350, toss in the whatever and wait. About five minutes in I realize the oven temperature is Celsuis (you know, that silly metric stuff). Which means I am roughly heating the meal at a temperature that will melt steel. Before the pan melts, I throw in some water, cool it down a bit, and ''wala" we have supper. Not bad, actually, I think it was some type of breaded sausage or maybe tofu with a twist of bear meat.

Tomorrow, more on the adventures of the intrepid American travellers doing everything they can to land in the Gulag.

"Das Vidanya".

Friday, April 18, 2008

The Class

Here is my class. Seems again dark here on this computer, but hopefully you can see the students. They are by any standards superb students. Though I know they are having difficulty with the language they are engaged and inquisitive. Yesterday when we discussed choices sorrounding a decision to allow our leaders--presidents, generals etc.--to act as they 'must' to save lives, without regard to the law, you could just feel the tension. WWII is very much a part of their upbringing and what the Russians experienced was so vastly more horrific than America. They have a hard time saying that a President must answer to the law--they want to say it, but they keep finding ways to avoid the question and the problem of Rule of Law as a founding principle. They are certainly not accustomed to discussing moral choices. (They were noticably relieved when I moved on to the structure of American Courts--a topic of 'fact' .) I told them I expect them, as lawyers and leaders, to discuss and debate these topics and for the next several weeks we would oftem come back to them (as we will next week with a day on the Death Penalty/Abortion/Euthenasia and at least one day on Discrimination (both African American and Homosexual)). Of course we too have difficulty in discussing these, don't we?

World War II has been an unexpected twist in the psyche of this place. We were taken on a tour of the University Museum--a small museum that every student must visit in the first year to discuss how the University came to be. Part of the display is of Irkutsk as a hospital center in WWII where some of the most severely injured were transferred. They had letters of thanks and pictures from those War veterans. It reminded me of the town in North Dakota through which so many American soldiers passed during the War. Each day, the local citizens, mostly the women who were left behind, would feed every single soldier with a home-cooked meal (for many their last) a smile, a hug, a thank-you (maybe even a dance). To hear what happened in Irkustk reminds me that there is that commonality with all of us. Each year the local grade schools now invite a local veteran (like America, they too are becoming more rare each year) to the school to honor them. Give them a gift, hear of their experiences and say thank-you. What a special and important moment that must be. (Why don't we do the same? So many of us say we respect our veterans who made our lives possible, but do we really? What do we do anymore to say thanks and to remind our children (our children's children)of those incredible sacrifices?) Each year, every single WWII veteran receives a note from the Russian President thanking him/her for what they did. Recall the first day of classes here I asked the students, in discussing the Bill of Rights, "Like those who signed the Declaration of Independence, is there anything you too would give your life for?" Good Question, and one those millions of Russian veterans know how to answer--for their homes and their families. Just something to continue to ponder, and something I would not have given a second thought too had we not taken this journey.

Tomorrow we finally get a day of rest. Not really, because our hosts are taking us for tours both Saturday and Sunday. I do not know if we will have access to a computer over the weekend, so if there is no post you'll understand. I am in a computer lab no bigger than our dining room at home, with 25 computers and students. A bit crowded, and I've found no internet cafe or other location outside the University. Over the weekend we will try to take some picture of the streets and the homes. We've been so busy with classes, class preparation and meetings that we have yet to venture far from our apartment, but hey that's what weekends are for.

Das Vidanya.

P.S. I'm working on that alphabet thing, and am wondering if Culvers would consider a franchise.

Sunday, April 20, 2008

Vodka and Boiling Water--Welcome to Russia

So, what do boiling water and vodka have to do with each other--nothing, of course. Well, that's not really true.

But before we travel down that rather odd road, a bit about the pictures. You can see pictures of our hosts, Igor, his wife, our translator Anna, Svetlana (Mr. & Mrs Igor's daughter and professor at the law school), and Andrew (Mrs Translators son, husband of Mr. & Mrs. Igor's daughter, and genuine NRA member in Russia (a story for another day...)) Of course, the two non-Russians (guess if you do not know) are Professor Karen and Professor Jim. (new titles, I think we'll keep them). There is a picture of the Daccha village we were visiting as guests of Igor, a picture of yours truly doing battle with the Russians on a pool table and, of course, the great frozen forest and lake (not Baikal, but part of the Angara river (the only river flowing out of Baikal). If you were to wake in this forest you would swear you were in Minocqua.

The "Daccha" or second home is a staple in this part of Russia. Military folks were given opportunities to buy land over the years in these forests an then they would build summer homes. Now, these Daccha villages can be extraordinary--with homes virtually identical to, you guessed it, Minocqua. (Maybe we could get a few of those Illinois tourists to consider somewhere other than Wisconsin...I'm not sure if the taxes here are much higher (just kidding, maybe)) Igor's Daccha had an indoor sauna, indoor swimming pool, a enclosed deck where we had an elaborate (and neverending) lunch (including barbecued pork ribs cooked on pine barbecue, fish soap, smoked salmon, smoked trout, tomato salad, a host of different sausages, marinated mushrooms, caviar, bread, almond cake....and hits just keep on coming....and I'm guessing I'll diet when I get back to McDonalds and America) non-OSHA cleared steps (more like a ladder), a set of greenhouses, raised gardens, a garage, a neighboring lot, and view of the forests to die-for. Just your common, ordinary, run-of-the-mill home....So much for the idea that only those ugly American anti-environmentalists love big homes, big cars and a places to stretch-out.

We were invited to Igor's home because his daughter is a member of the law school faculty, but nobody told us we were headed there (thus we forgot to bring a gift and still feel bad about that). We were actually headed to the country to see a restored village of classic Siberian homes, but, of course, being from Wisconsin in the year 2008 we were---take a guess---SNOWED OUT! By the time we got about 5 miles (I suppose I should convert that to Kilometers but you can't make me that much of a Russian, so I'll stick with non-metric) out of town there were cars in the ditch, cars stuck on hills, accidents, tow-trucks, solid ice on the roads. We felt right at home. We detoured to Igor's.

Way too long today. Ooops. But I must go on to the Vodka and Boiling Water.

Can I drink vodka? yes, of course, I did afterall go to college. Can I drink vodka with/like a Russian? Am I man enough? Am I driving?

There is a tradition that once opened a bottle of vodka may not be resealed. Igor opened the bottle. Aghast I realized it would be just he and I and bottle of gold colored, peppered vodka while Karen and the rest watched. So, around the sixth toast....I think it was to our children (maybe the Siberian Bears (as opposed to the Chicago Bears)), anyway I'm listing a bit to the right but Igor is going strong. Being the competitive sort (me, competitive? who would ever think that) I got my second wind, and Igor got a second bottle.

You would think a Professor of Law (still sounds pretty good, and with this amount of drinking I do believe I could at least 'attend' UW) would know better. But, this is Russia v. America, the Russian Bear v. the America Eagle, the Experienced Vodka Man v. well, the Not-so experienced Vodka Man. As we were now the best of buddies, having solved all manner of great issues of the day, he invited me to a 'friendly' game of pool. (Ah, something American, Minnesota Fats and all that) Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately for International relations, while I was able still to recognize a pool cue, and amble (I think Karen said 'stumble') to the pool table, my skills were, well, a bit diminished. Igor wins in a walk, but if I ever get him to America.....

Just plain great fun, with wonderful people on a Saturday afternoon.

But what about that boiling water, you ask? I'm in just fine shape returning to the apartment at 6 p.m. We bid farewell to our hosts at the door, Karen walks in, opens the bathroom door and there is a waterfalls, a flood, a spray---a MESS. Scalding water is blowing out of the pipe under the sink. Now, if you want to sober-up quickly, put yourself in Irkutsk Siberia among folks who don't have a clue what you are saying, on a Saturday night and a pipe of boiling water has exploded. We laugh, what else is there to do? We call the only person who can speak English that we know--Gala. While we wait for her to arrive your intrepid Wisconsinite charges into the bathroom wearing gloves (it really is hot water) and aims the pipe into the toilet via a wastebasket (you'll need to use your imagination on that one). Within an hour or so we have Gala, Natalya (the assistant to the vice-rector of the University), Sven the Plumber (big big Russian) and no way to stop the water. I volunteer my key chain necklace that I use to hold my San Disk 2GB stick and this fine, well equipped plumber 'ties-off' the hose. That's the fix for now.

So our day begins on the frozen roads of Siberia and ends in the boiling heat of a bathroom. Now that's a day worth remembering.

Das Vidanya.

Monday, April 21, 2008

Western Europe this is Not

Today was one of those days in teaching that you fear in advance and find exhilirating in execution. (oops, wrong word, as the topis was the "death penalty"). The death penalty has been suspended, I am told, in Russia ('Russia' does not, apparently include Russian billionaires travelling in England I guess). So, I expected a group of students intent on becoming solid European Union advocates. The EU requires that all signatory countries agree that, by legislative action, they ban the death penalty. Well....this is not Europe (though the architecture is decidedly Italian--a subject for a future comment).

For the lawyers--the discussion centered on Furman, Gregg and an Illinois case In re Cousins(the dissent of Mr. Justice Ryan). For those not lawyers, those are a series of cases that discuss the principles, history and ultimately the legal standards for allowing States to impose the death penalty. Is it "Cruel and Unusual" and does its imposition violate "Equal Protection."

Well, I found one, and only one student, who opposed the death penalty in total! Try that in a UW Law School classroom. This, of course, put me in the Socratic position (oops, again a bit of a slip, afterall Socrates was executed by his own hand with a marvelous dose of hemlock to carry-out the sentence of his fellow Athenians against him) of needing to take a series of leaps through the hoops and Wisconsin traditions of no death penalty. Still, what an interesting perspective these students bring. Recall the comments about WWII and the general willingness to accept that Government must have some ability to control outcomes. Seems that long history is not lost on these young students of the law. Tough lessons and exceptional people.

Das Vidanya.

Tuesday, April 22, 2008

The Great Irkutsk Fire

As I've travelled I've always believed that the feel of a place is often missed by 'tourist' visits. Being, of course, the typical American tourist, I enjoy a great mini-golf amusement waterpark slide swing ice cream soaked visit to a place as much as the next guy. Still, walking the streets, looking at the buildings, stepping into the grocery store always seems more important. This has, of course, led to some rather difficult moments, as when I'm lost on a German subway (saved by Randy Dimond and Bill Linton) or wandering the backstreets of Seoul without a clue how to return to the hotel. But then what's life without a few harrowing moments--terror perhaps, followed by calm seas and a home in the Cross Plains hills.

So, on the assumption someone is still reading this (please let us know), on Sunday, having recovered from the vodka wars in a Siberian Daccha, we were met by Lupa, Paul, Kate and Nadia (in that order above)for a walk through Irkutsk and visits to local museums. (By the way, Lupa (next to Karen) is a native Boriat, the indigenous people of the region. When we visited the museum of local culture the dress and habits of the Boriats appeared virtually identical (seriously--"identical") to the Native Americans of Wisconsin.)

The pictures here are of the buildings that followed the Great Irkutsk Fire of 1879 in Central Irkutsk. I realize that many back home saw the headline "Fire" and assumed (with some basis in reality) that perhaps we had been caught in a fire or perhaps we started a fire or perhaps Mrs. O'Leary's Cow was involved. None of that, but like Chicago and Peshtigo the late 19th Century saw a great fire here that burned much of the City. In response, the City hired architects from Italy to help rebuild Irkutsk which was then, like now, a commercial center for Eastern Russia, Mongolia and the Far East. The buildings seem right out of a Hollywood set. Magnificent old Italian and French designs. Like so much else, of course, the Communist Era brought collectives to the region (many of the old homes were divided into parts for many families) and these magnificent brick buildings were not repaired. Still, most of the great brick buildings have survived and now with capital and commerce they are being refurbished. (Not so lucky for the fairy-tale wooden homes, a future blog...)

I know at least one doctor, in a much warmer place, may be reading this. Note the medical symbols on the blue "wedgewood" building. Irkutsk was the center for medical care and the wealthy commercial residents built superb (for the day) hospitals and clinics in Irkutsk.

The different blue building with signs on it is actually a high-end mall for clothing and jewelry.

As we walked around the City there was a great life to the people. They walk briskly, sometimes with a purpose but more often a stroll in this part of town on a Sunday--a day for shopping. We visited an open-air market of fruits and vegetables and plants and seeds (it's spring here, of course snowing). It was, in the Russian Orthodox tradition, Palm Sunday. Though unlike the Roman Catholic tradition of palms, here everyone is given pussy-willows. So, on all the streets there were vendors able to provide that great harbinger of Spring and the hope of a blossoming leaf.

As we walked to the Angara River we passed statue of Czar Nicholas, the last Russian Czar--it's in the background of the picture with Karen and our hosts for the day. The statue was destroyed by the Communists, but is now rebuilt and stands very proudly on the shore. He is facing East in recognition of his role in building the Trans-Siberian Railway that opened this part of Russia to the World in the same fashion as Prometory Point in Utah and the golden spike that connected all of America in the 1800's.

We walked for hours, visited the home a Decembrist, a museum of culture and markets of every type. Every place has a story that is reflected in its people, its achitecture and its way of life. It was a great Sunday to learn at least a bit of the story of this extraordinary place.

Das Vidanya.

Tuesday, April 22, 2008

Where have all the Communists Gone?

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

Laundry--It's still RUSSIA

Of course there are those pesky everyday matters even as we solve the great problems of the world. (I guess I've now become a "real" academic, claiming to solve the great problems of the day. Horror, but still great fun.) Laundry. That oddly American tradition of actually wanting our clothes to smell Springtime Fresh with the aid of every known carcinogen, soap compound and whatever else it takes. (Bleach played, by the way, a rather prominent role in my early childhood as a mountain of bleach bottles crashed to the floor at the local grocery--undoubtedly prodded a bit by a future world problem solver, faux academic, now resident of Siberia. That's a story for another day.) Recall that Russians, hairy beasts that they are (only the men of course) seem to revel in not bathing regularly. This habit appears to mean that laundry is not the highest of priorities. Karen, of course, knew this in advance and brought enough clothes to last roughly until early September--I, as is common, lacked such foresight.

So, beginning late last week we started to inquire about doing laundry. Quizzical looks from our hosts....but they began to make calls. Galina finally found someone willing to take-in the laundry,but informed us yesterday it would take 10 days to get it back. Not that I really care, but hey I'm trying to leave a good impression. (This is not, afterall, a fishing trip...yet.) Now the negotiations begin--a marvelous Russian tradition akin to buying a used car from Joe the Used Car guy ( a special deal, just for you, and just for today blah blah blah) Thank the Lord (oops forgot again he doesn't exist here) for Galina. A word about Galina--I saw her verbally strip the skin off an inattentive student with a degree of intensity so great that I thought perhaps she was a relative of Judge Shabaz (just kidding Judge) or perhaps Professor Kingsfield. Last night, when the laundry guy arrived to pickup what we had Galina insisted on being there. The ten days miraculously turned into 24 hours, and the prepaid delivery charge, well that's history. Of course, the quality of the laundry without those marvelous carcinogenic genetically altered bleach induced soaps of America--we'll see tonight.

After class today I have been invited to meet and speak with the local Bar Association. I'm told they drink Cognac, not that silly vodka. My only fear is that a bottle of Cognac, once opened, might (like the vodka) be required to be finished. We're walking to the meeting....

Das Vidanya.

Thursday, April 24, 2008

A Bank? A Jail?

Time to get some money. Yes, even in Siberia they have money--decadent Western habits I guess. Of course our ever present extraordinary hosts offered to help, but Nooooo Jim's got to do this on his own. Because Jim's a moron, and as a result of what follows perhaps is now posted on Russia's Most Wanted.

First, of course, is getting to the Bank. Recall that "Bank" in Russian is, well, unrecognizable. But sleuthing is part of the lawyer stuff and so I knew there was Bank at the corner of Lenin Street and Karl Marx Street. (Really--and Vladimi and Karl are certainly grumbling in their graves.) Traversing from one side of the street to the other is always, and I wish to be charitable here to Russian drivers, an adventure. We recently discovered, after a number of very inapproriate gestures, horn honking and general mayhem followed from our attempts to cross other boulevards, that here they use the "scramble" system. (as in scrambled egg, or scrambling for your life) You arrive at an intersection with cars, busses, trams, bikes, motorcylces and an occassional wild animal (a/k/a college student) heading in every direction and you patiently wait, and wait, and wait. Then for roughly 5.5 second all the lights turn red and the sign flashes to run (walking being foolish under such circumstances) and you head to other side across six lanes of traffic. Whew, we made it. (We've been told that Moscovites believe all the people in Irkutsk are unable to drive and thus simply hit the gas and brakes in a series of uncontrolled events. You know what it's like. Like everyone's from Iowa.)

So, we head to the bank--it's closed. Silly us, we thought a bank might be open at 2:00 in the afternoon, but its the lunch hour (2-3). We patiently wait, and wait and wait. Three shady looking guys with a plastic sack, shoulder bags and leather jackets edge to the front of the line inside the bank. We were there first, but even I know when it's unwise to speak-up, at least sometimes. We are now poised to go into a locked room, per the directions of the babushka behind the counter, where we assume we can exchange good old (ever plummeting) American greenbacks for some steady new-world currency--Rubles. 3 p.m. arrives, and the three guys with the plastic sack, leather jackets and general shadiness open that door, close it and we patiently wait and wait and wait. They furtively open the door and edge out apparently now loaded down with Rubles. We, of course, expect they have just robbed the Bank (recall the scene in Columbia from Butch Cassidy) but to our surprise as we open that door, there is a bullet-proof window behind the door. We enter. We close the door, click--locked in.

This would, for normal people be enough to call it a day, perhaps admit we don't have a clue and come back on the 'morrow with someone who actually can read and speak the language. But, hey, that wouldn't be a fun. Behind the glass, in a room the size of a small closet (think phone booth) are three ladies, also locked into a metal room (think, vault). The older woman (older here being a relative term, she's probably 18) say something I don't understand, I respond in English, she responds in something I don't understand, I respond in English....you get the idea. This is when we trusting Americans get ourselves into potential international incidents--louder, maybe that will work....I finally just do what every good capitalist would expect, I recall Cuba Goodings advice and "show them the money"(Hollywood, of course, always being the best source of advice) and willingingly (this is really dumb) put the money into my passport and push passport and money into the bullet proof, bomb resistant tray which then mysteriously disappears and reappears behind the glass, in the vault, with the three ladies.

I swear I had no idea. Really no idea that what I had just handed those young ladies was a counterfeit bill. But, after they first put the bills under a black light, then a white light, then a magnifying glass (I'm of course joking about the silly efforts being made to inspect every bill with Karen who, in spite of her better judgment chose to come with me (mostly because she will not trust me with my passport so she carries it on her person at all times) not knowing the Red peril I face), I see one of the ladies hit the buzzer and a door opens behind. I realize (sleuth that I am) that something is wrong. I waive frantically, she hits a microphone switch and says something in a language I can not understand, I respond (you know the drill...).....but this time I'm going on offense. I waive additional bills having figured she just does not like the ones I've sent thru, and being from America we always know money can buy you anthing. I was right, because to my great relief she utters the word "change" as she holds up a 100 hundred dollar bill and frowns. Of course she should frown, where there was to be a watermark of Benjamin Franklin, there is a watermark of Mao. Now, I realize that we've had some odd folks in Washington in recent years, but I never thought they would actually put Mao on those 100 dollar bills. (Must be a new mint in Madison...just kidding Mr. Mayor.)
O.K., so I figure I'm now photographed and locked in. But this is the new Russia--the enlightened Putin and all. They actually take the two 50's and hand me back my Mao 100.

Whew, no jail, no 'we'll never see our children again', no "I'll miss the opening of walleye season". Then they try my passport--no go. They try again, no go. The computer is telling those marvelous (never hurts to compliment, right) ladies something I don't think I want to hear. They call their supervisor, they call the head of the Bank, they call Putin. and, of course, we patiently wait.

For the record, the Mao 100 came from JP Morgan Chase in Madison, but Karen is trying desparately to open the door and leave. She figures I've gone-around-the-bend. Maybe I really have decided to stay for a much longer visit by passing counterfeit 100's to the Bank of Russia.

45 minutes after we closed that door behind us, we are permitted to leave...now followed by these three guys in black leather jackets...just kidding about the guys, it was just one guy.

As hard as you might try, you just can't make this stuff up.

Das Vidanya.

Friday, April 25, 2008

The Russian Bar

Welcome to the Bar of Siberia! On Wednesday I had the great pleasure of meeting a group from the regional (most of Siberia) Bar. Turns out there is much the same and much that is different.

First, an excuse for the dress. I realize that back there in Wisconsin "business casual" remains in vogue(except among anachronisms such as yours truly, who have been compared, I suppose, to Victorian England in our views of dress (or Columbo--depending on your point of view of my sometimes indifference when it comes to clothes--but I always wear a tie, right?)). Here lawyers ("advocats") are uniformly dressed in black or dark suits, with ties. The women dress, let's say, a bit more like 'out-on-the-town'. So, why so casual here in this picture? Because, and here is music the ears of the State Bar, they are in town for their REQUIRED Continuing Legal Education. The requirement is virtually identical to ours--75 hours over 5 years. (I know math is not the strong suit of many in the Bar, but I believe if you do the math, that ours is virtually the same.) This was a day they had been attending classes in Irkutsk before heading back north to Brusk, a city of 400,000 approximately 650 kilometers to the North.

The term "Bar" refers here to groups of attorneys that are associated with each other, governed by a Board with a local president. Until the late 1990's all advocats were members of a single Bar, but post-Peristroika/Soviet rule the Bar has been allowed to break-up into smaller Bar's. An interesting development that we discussed for a long time because the breakup has meant there is now competition among the advocats for work. Association with a particular "Bar" requires that the advocat pay an administrative fee to cover the rent, utilities, administration (including it seems billing--more in a minute), secretarial, typing, etc. After that payment is made, the office of that Bar--when a Bar is over a large region, as this one is, the local office has substantial independence--divides the fees they receive among those who generate the fees.

The Bar I visited was the oldest in Siberia, 85 years old, and handles all manner of legal issues though it focuses on court proceedings. Membership in a Bar generally means here that the advocats are licensed to appear in Court. Most lawyers here do not appear in Court, and it is a great honor to have that ability. In all of Siberia there are only 1200 licensed Advocats that may appear in Courtrooms. (Remember Irkutsk alone has 600,000 residents.) Not included are Prosecuting attorneys. Prosecuting attorneys are trained differently, work for the government and do not appear to cross-over to the private Bar.

The advocats were amazed at how quickly matters are resolved in our courts! See, we're not that bad--you just need to find the right comparison.... A criminal case can take years here as there is no requirement of a speedy trial. Judges, from the conversations I've had, seem to be very busy.

Fees are 'flat-rate', set in advance. The advocats in this picture complained that once the fee is set some cases can take-up vastly more time and effort than they expected. They said it sure would be better if they could charge by the hour. Clients and attorneys do sign written agreements in advance.

There is apparently quite a debate in the area about contingency fees. The chief advocat (the woman in the picture) suggested they were allowed, but the others said they had just come from a CLE and were told they are not allowed. It's a tough concept outside the United States and one that will be, by the way, a topic of today's classes on Ameircan Tort law.

With new-found competition it was intriguing to hear about how they attempt to obtain business. Of course, like all lawyers, they claim to be too busy. But with the break-up of the Bars into smaller competing Bars/firms this Bar is making an effort to position itself as the "oldest" and therefore the "most prestigious". They claim to have the most honored advocats (various medals and awards are given to counsel as they participate in proceedings, teach etc.), and they were intensely interested in what we do (or do not do) to compete for business.

Fascinating for me to hear what happens as competition breaks-out.

They wanted to know if attorneys in America may lose their licenses, and I did not quite understand until they said that here this is a major problem. With the break-up of the Bar they are struggling with how to enforce uniform standards of conduct, as when the Bar was entirely one entity they were able to effectively address ethical concerns with the Courts and Government. Now they believed they lacked the power, as a Bar of advocats, to avoid arbitrary actions by the Government to remove lawyers. That's an interesting thought--what happens when non-lawyers are the primary source of discipline, including the primary source of the rules. It might not seem like a problem, but consider that the advocats are, or will be, the primary source of independent protection of rights against that same government. In that setting, the strength of the Bar to protect and discipline its own is a compelling story to watch as Democracy and Rule of Law begin to take-hold.
I did try to cover many topics over two and half hours, but if you have any questions while I'm here, please let me know and I'll be glad to ask. Got to run to class.

Das Vidanya.

Friday, April 25, 2008

Orthodox Easter

It is now late Friday and if this is like last weekend we will not able to comment throughout the weekend. I had intended to post pictures of the exceptional Orthodox cathedrals, Jewish Synagogue and Roman Catholic Church as it is Orthodox Easter on Sunday. Yesterday, Thursday of Easter week, is the treated as the day to clean all windows in one's in house. This long tradition is credited to the Orthodox faith here as a part of bringing the light in, and with it the great blessings of the sun, spring and good luck. So, we saw students cleaning windows at the University and all we spoke to intended to clean windows at their homes, as well. Like the tradition of the puss-willows of this past Sunday, so much points to the Spring and what it means to the joy of the seasons.

Tonight we will be at a concert by a trio of musicians from France who are appearing at the local hall. The title of the program "Shalom" certainly suggests the music, and certainly, as well, (like the rebuilding of the synagogue) would suggest that the diversity of the community does not end with the only the local cultures.

Tomorrow we head to Lake Baikal. We will travel on the road meant for Dwight Eisenhower--a story you will need to check back later to hear. It's exciting after hearing so much about Baikal, to finally visit. (I wore a tie given to me by Bill Linton today of a variety of fishing tackle. Each day I put a picture of a different fishing trip up with my presentations, and several students noticed the tie. Fishing will, I'm afraid, only happen if there is a future trip.)

Sunday, Othrodox Easter, will be the first day we have nothing planned since arriving. If nothing else, we can say with absolute assurance that this was no vacation. Adventure--yes!

A last item. Recall that it is an important tradition to give gifts here. We brought one full suitcase of gifts and will hopefully leave all of them with our hosts and students this next week. Karen has already received several gifts from the English school faculty and her students. Today, one of my students brought a truly extraordinary gift. She has been working since I arrived on a picture of a Baikal Grayling (a fish of the Arctic) and presented it to me today. It was made entirely with the petals of flowers! It is as beautiful as it sounds.

Have a marvelous weekend.

Das Vidanya.

Monday, April 28, 2008

Circue de Soleil meets Bar Mitzvah!

Let's just say it was Friday, and that would be the night we would be on our way to the Madison Symphony Orchestra. (Rick Morgan reminds me this was the weekend of Russian music, the ironies never stop) The Irkutsk Symphony is renowned in the Far East, and is, in fact, on tour in Europe this Spring. No surprise, this is the land to which dissidents were sent for 170 years (dating to the time of Czar Nicholas in the early 1800's). You know those musicians----sometimes a bit out of the mainstream (that's a compliment). So, being the shy and retiring sort I had mentioned my hope that we could attend a concert while we were in Irkutsk.

Galiana to the rescue! (Galiana is, you may recall, the finest organizer, translator, host you could ever want. I believe we shall dub' her "Fran, of the East.") We, of course, have not had a single day off since arriving (note to office---it's really not a vacation), and Karen is a bit exhausted.But being known for wearing people out, when Galiana says she can get tickets to a concert on Friday night, I jump at the opportunity. (You know how this works, if you don't want to hear the answer, you just don't ask. It's better to seek forgiveness than permission. I choose not to ask Karen before agreeing....) So, while the class is watching Civil Action on Friday afternoon, I'm off with Galiana and Svetlana to the music hall to get the tickets.

Now, I don't want to be disparaging about anything, but think "High School Stage". Marvelously ornate blue and white corinthian columns in a red late Baroque period building, but still, High School Stage. (including a wood floor that would make a marvelous basketball court). In fact, while I am visiting the Hall (Galiana will not be able to join us so she needs to show me the ropes in advance.) there is a program being presented for Russian military veterans of the Chechnian and Afghanistan battles. (Think, a group of Vietnam Veterans on Harleys.) I'm thinking, this concert might not be Karen's cup-of-borscht. But, ever the fearless one who knows that though these are quite competent lawyers here in Siberia, I've not yet taught them about American Family Law so there should be time for Karen to get over whatever.

At about 6 p.m. we cross/scramble wildly Karl Marx Street (an adventure recounted in an earlier battle) on our way to the Hall. Karen recognizes at some point that maybe this is not, well, your Chicago Symphony Center. As we fight our way through the crowds waiting for busses, past the flower stands and Coca Cola kiosks, we enter the hall. I'm surprised. In the place of the Harley driving veterans of foreign wars, we have rabbis, men and women in fine clothes and children well dressed (and misbehaving). We enter the Hall, locate our seats (the Cyrillic Alphabet does not apply to numbers, whew am I lucky) and sit behind two huge Russian men in suits (think KGB). The crowd enters. The lights are not lowered (thank goodness, as I'm thinking those two guys are here to discuss the counterfeit incident of the day before), but everyone quiets down and we hear, what's that, can it be, yes it is---an accordion behind the curtain. (We're from Wisconsin, so unlike most of America we still know what an Accordian sounds like...also the sound of bowling pins as well as how to pronounce "brat" and "you betcha") And, from behind the curtain out comes, yes, a French Accordian player. (O.K. I get Wisconsin accordian players, Polish accordian players (got to be the Karge's favorite music too)and maybe even an embarrassed child, forced by cruel, unwitting parents, like me, to play, but FRENCH?) My opinion of the French has been restored! (Ooops(Karen's maiden name is Jeanblanc)) Then, could it be, yes it is, Kenny G. coming in through a back door--well not quite, but a good imitation by a French guy. All this topped with a string bass.

Now, I can't say I would have chosen, or even imagined, a trio of String Bass, Accordian and Soprano Saxaphone playing Russian Bar Mitzvah music. But when it comes to being in Russia, it just can't get any better than this. And, if I doubted (as I may have implied last week with the Synagogue) that there might not be a Jewish population in Irkutsk, I was wrong as the hall was filled and if you take a moment (please do) and listen to the video of the end of the concert you'll know what I mean. It's not the Symphony, but darn if it was not just great fun to hear and enjoy.

It was a marvelous Friday evening in Siberia.

Das Vidanya.

Monday, April 28, 2008

Baikal--Oh my Goodness

We hear of things all our lives and wonder if they can meet our expectations. On rare occasions something we have heard of, read of or thought of might (oh so rarely) exceed our expectations. Lake Baikal fits squarely in the second in the category.

As someone who thought seriously about forestry, and later to run a fishing camp, and often simply to find the most remote places on the planet (e.g. Australian Outback, Hudson Bay, Northwest Territories etc.), Lake Baikal stands as one of those mythical places you've heard of, but doubt. Consider that there is only one stream that exits Baikal, and Baikal is so large that it holds more than 20% of all the World's fresh water. (more than double the size of the next largest lake, our own Lake Superior). That single river, the Angara, is said to be more than 800 feet deep at the point it exits and there is a single rock at the center that is, in fact, the top of the peak of a mountain extending 800 ft. to the bottom.

This past weekend we saw that magical rock--honored by the Shaman's of the Boryiat people for thousands of years. I could not show that picture here, because while I may know something about ancient times I don't have a clue without my children's help of how to blow-up and cut the picture I took. As we saw that rock, the young girl, Luba (meaning "love") in the picture above explained the ancient tale of a daughter's love, her father's disgrace and the tears that have formed the great Angara river. Luba is, herself, a Boryiat from the far Northern portion of Lake Baikal.

You may see in the pictures the reality of this time of year here--Lake Baikal remains frozen (albeit no longer safe for walking). The break from the ice to the outflowing river forms a majestic blue against the Lake's Siberian white. No picture could possibly do justice to the strength of the blue and the infinite expanse of white--reaching to the mountains and then over the horizon.

Of course, we're from the frozen tundra of Lambeau Field, so we do know cold, and a bit of cold will certainly not discourage a picnic. Apparently we are kindred spirits with the Law School faculty (two are pictured here with us), as they brought a picnic lunch and but for the absence of a good Brat, it was perfect.

Now I know some back there are wondering, will they go back? Actually, I can not think of anyone who would even think I was not coming back--it's Karen they wonder about. But, just in case you had any doubts, look at that Northern Pike mounted in the Limnological Institute we visited adjacent to the lake. I know that picture alone means that my brother Christ, Justice Bill, Sarah, James and Flint are all booking their tickets even as I complete this blog. (David H. we'll even let you join us.) Babe Winkelman has yet to visit Irkutsk, so there remains some hope. I doubt they've ever seen a Daredevl, and a Suick--it would be a slaughter. (O.K. so, for all of you who do not fish, you'll have to ask someone to translate. In other words, you'll feel just like me, here, in Russia, where, they think English is, well, a foreign language.)

Tomorrow we begin two days of wrap-up, and while I will comment later in more detail I can not close tonight without commenting on today's class. (It is Monday evening as I write this.) Today, as I concluded with my class about the extraordinary role of lawyers in America I choked-up. Even through a translator I could not hide that being a lawyer has never been, for me, merely a job. It has been, for me, a calling. I will say more before I leave, but, if you are an attorney reading this, no matter what today or tomorrow may bring, know that we are so lucky to have what we have.

Das Vidanya

Tuesday, April 29, 2008

Galina & Svetlana

Tuesday, April 29, 2008

Exhiliration and Sadness

Wednesday, April 30, 2008

Strong Women, Capitalism on Steriod--Final Thoughts

Sunday, May 4, 2008

Contact Information & Comments

We're back!

If you have any comments, ideas or just want to be in touch (and I do want to hear from you), you can send me an e-mail at jtroupis@hotmail.com (my personal, not business, e-mail) Of course, you can always simply comment here at the blog, but the e-mails, in contrast, are private. I'm more than a bit curious as to who and how many have been reading, and sure would like to hear your thoughts.

I must express my sincerest thanks to the State Bar of Wisconsin--George Brown and ALL--for encouraging me to complete comments while I was away, and taking care of innumerable details before and during my travels. The State Bar has a really great group of people whom we in the Bar are lucky to have. Thank you!

It was an extraordinary trip that will affect me (and Karen) for the rest of our lives. We met some exceptional people, many of whom you have heard about, some you have not. It was much harder and much more important, satisfying and surprising than I ever anticipated.

Thank you to everyone at Michael Best who covered so many different things while I was away. Had I not been with such a spectacular group of people I would not have considered the trip. You all know that without Fran Wiley I could not have gone. Thanks Fran and everyone.

I've said it over and over again, but it bears repeating that the vice-rector, Olga, dean, Elena, asst. to the vice-rector, Natalya, and two wonderful ladies, Galiana and Svetlana will remain my friends for as long as they are willing to hear from me, and they made this a trip of lifetime. Baikal National University of Economics and Law is an exceptional place because they have exceptional people making it happen, and exceptional students. I hope my small contribution to that marvelous place will inspire great leaders for the future of Russia, and a renewed sense of the importance of Liberty, Freedom and the Rule of Law.

Thank you again. Please let me know if you've been following the blog.

Das Vidanya.