they be little, but they be fierce...

Soo...a long week later. I still have no pictures. Why don't you just give up? I mean, really. People. You. And your demands.
So, today, I went to my first kick-boxing lesson. It was brutal. Push ups. Running. Punching. Running. Push ups. Pain. I went with Eddie, who always does kick-boxing. (Why kick-boxing, you ask?) The answer is quite simple. IT'S FREE. Thank you, rotary. Our club president owns the gym. Actually, most of the things in Barnaul seem to be owned by one Rotarian or another, but you usually can't snitch favors off of someone else's host parents. For example: my mother has an absolutely amazing restaurant, where I eat whenever I'm in the city (which is every day.) Eddie is grim with jealousy. Eddie's parents have an office building with a super-fast internet connection which he uses for a few hours every day. Grrr...
But yes, kick boxing. So, I go trotting across the city to the fountain in Sovietob Square (yes, you heard correctly. It sports the largest Lenin statue in the city, and that's saying something.) Only I'm early, so I go walking around and around the square to stay warm while I wait for Eddie (who's late). And I'm on my fourth round of the square when I hear, booming across the square "DDDZZZZ-OOOOO-LEEEEEE-YAAAAA!" I turn. Eddie is jumping and waving his arms happily, having arrived late (and warm) in a coat and on a bus. Dang you, Eddie. You and your coat.
And we merrily traverse the square to the kick-boxing club. And what do I see going into the club in front of me, but a ribyonak. (Small child.) And when I say small, I'm not talking twelve years old, I'm talking eight or nine. DO NOT MESS WITH SMALL CHILDREN IN RUSSIA. They kick box.
This had several repercussions: first of all, I will be more careful not to offend small children in the streets of Russia. And second of all, while we were all enduring the grueling work out, and Eddie and I were dragging ourselves grimly along through push ups and jumps and running, there are these little munchkins nipping at our heels. BACK OFF, RIBYONKA! Talk about motivation. Does anyone seriously want to get shown up at kick boxing by a child smaller than my dog? Words to ponder. Words to ponder.