The Principal Is Your Pal

Remember that phrase to help remind you of the correct spelling, as opposed to PRINCIPLE which had no such clever statement? Yesterday morning before I went to my first class, my principal Hanka told me I did not have the scheduled lunch room duty but instead should come see her as she had to talk to me. It sounded ominous. I knew that that afternoon we were having our conferences to discuss the critical behavior issues and one of my girls' names was on the list. Or maybe a parent called complaining about that crazy American teacher? Like when a police car just happens to drive behind you, it made me anxious.

I taught my classes, one of which was a double period of all three 8th grade classes, 8 of whom had managed to actually bring their training clothes. Jozko and I "handled" the girls and Stevo and Dano organized the boys, a slightly larger group. After putting away the equipment, I reviewed my one student's report I had previously written and returned to the office to face the music.

Well, "music to my ears" anyway, as everyone was gathered in the office to surprise me! Hanka said some words and presented me with a small, framed water color, signed by its local 72-year-old artist. It was of Michael's Gate, a city landmark I walk through almost everyday. I was given a beautiful bouquet of flowers and then everyone lined up to shake hands, say some well-rehearsed words in english, and peck me on either cheek. And then the champagne toast! I made a short speech, the end of which was determined by my being overcome and unable to continue. Hanka translated, and we all said Na Zadravie! It was so sincere and touching, and then everyone rushed off to class, leaving me overwhelmed. Everyone had signed my card and Hanka had written, "See you on Monday" explaining that saying goodby is too final, so this charming version leaves open the possibility of meeting again. I think it's my new favorite phrase!

I Wanna Go Home

I woke up from a dream this past week and found myself repeating those words. Can't remember the dream, but the dialogue was vivid. Yesterday I braved the masses to do some grocery shopping at Tesco, which we all agree remains just as scary as it was last August. This time, however, I had to fight off a NUN (for God's sake!) to get a shopping basket. We exchanged unholy looks and I silently repeated my litany, "I wanna go home, I wanna go home..."

My Flag Day soiree was a hit, and I hauled out leftovers the next day so it was an extended celebration. Many folks asked what was the orange cheese. Um...cheddar? I'm glad I was able to do this last week, as things seem to be getting more and more hectic. Grades are due; mine are almost finished. I am also trying to do something with the results of my fitness testing so the students can take something home, and this is taking some time to complete. I am comparing the students against the standards used for the Presidential Fitness Challenge we use at Lab. There is no form of fitness assesssment here, and as the students are very competitive, this actually was a surprising success. Strong fitness results, however, don't seem to be necessarily reflected in the gym. This is probably due to the perceptions that the p.e. lesson is not the arena for vigorous activity, it lacks importance in the school day, and girls participate differently than boys.

At school, it's becoming a list of "last time for..." as in last time for my swimming classes, where we have been swimming in near darkness because no one turns on the lights around here. Last time to use the toilet where the paper holder is under lock and key. Last time to see the pool personnel who spoke no english and were delightful to work with. Last time with Jozko to team teach, which I really enjoyed. He gets Sona back next year, which I'm sure HE'LL really enjoy.

Meanwhile we're all trying to get in some final social connections before everyone leaves. We had dinner with Fulbrighter Andy and wife Chris, and Chuck and his spouse Susan last Sunday before they headed back home. I retrieved the floor scale that had been making the rounds between Chuck, Kathy and then Andy in order to weigh suitcases. If that scale could talk... And everytime someone leaves, there is an exchange of leftover groceries and books that get left behind. I'm making deviled eggs right now to take to a BBQ at my principal's chata. Husband Peter and middle son John and girlfriend Martina will be there as well as some of our english-speaking faculty, so it will be a fun time. Hanka and Peter go to their 100-year old place almost every week-end, and John uses it as party central when they don't. I didn't pay attention to the size of my eggs while at Tesco. (Too busy fighting off Sister Mary Elephant!) Anyway, they will be maybe a mouthful, as they are about as big as robin's eggs. I'll also bring something tomorrow to our church pot luck, a good-by lunch for those who are soon leaving.

Tonight after the BBQ Eva and I will go to "The Scorpions" concert, outside at the football field. Hopefully I won't be the oldest one there. Rock you like a hurricane... or is it rock ME, I can never remember. Not a huge fan, but it'll be a good time.

The last week of school involves all sorts of trips. Zuzka heads to England with the 6th graders the day before I go on the Expedition with the 8th graders. So this Thursday evening we'll go see a Russian Folk Music/Dance performance at Incheba, an events arena I've not been to. By the time she returns from her trip, I will have already left for Spain, so this will be a nice evening for the two of us. I've seen a lot of Slovakia and learned much thanks to her, so Dakujem, Zuzka!

Chuck mailed a few boxes for me from Heinburg, Austria before he left. I have also mailed some from Slovakia where it is more expensive. Fulbright had shipped two boxes of books and files for me last summer, but we're on our own to get them back. I've given two large bags of clothing to Zuzka's cousin, and many of the others have done similarly. This week-end I'm going to try some practice packing to see what my suitcases can actually hold. Unless it's really important, if it doesn't fit, it doesn't go!

Last week at school I managed to lose my keys, probably outside across the street where I was timing the mile run. First Jakob helped me, and then later Zabco and I repeated the search. The course is around a small lake and one lap is 1000 meters. As we were walking, Zabco told me that in 1978 a plane crashed in this very lake, killing 40 people. There had been some reported difficulty, but the Russian plane had been denied landing in both Brno and Vienna. There was never one word said about this incident, so even though it happened, it "never happened", but now you know. Makes you wonder what else you DON'T .

Later on while in the office, Zabco asked did I know about Google Earth? We put in the information and finally zeroed in on 105th Street in Chicago. Then we traveled ALL THE WAY back to Bratislava; such a long way. I wanna go home...

Miscellaneous

Random thoughts that have as yet found no home in any blog entry.

NAMES AND NICKNAMES are confusing. The good part is that there is so much repetition with names, when you can't think of the correct one, calling out Michel or Katarina is a good guess. But wait, Michel is also Misa or even Miska (say Misha/Mishka) and Katarina is Katka. Simona is Sisa, Martina is Mata and Kristina can morph into Kika. I've written that I teach with Jozef but everyone knows him as Jozko. The other three PE teachers are Stevo (Steven), Vilo (Viliam) and Dano (Daniel). and my buddy Zuzka is Zuzana (Susan). I teach Zora but she is also Zorka, just as Daniela is Danka, Paula is Paja and thank God Eva is Eva. Last fall, there was a lot of, "Who?" because I only knew what was written on my roster, even though almost no one uses these formal names. Yesterday when I was in Billa (European grocery chain) I was scanning the magazine rack as I waited to check out. Now I know that Dorota has a diminutive form, but really, but how could you purchase a glossy entitled, "Dorka"?! That also reminds me that a jewelry store I pass each day is named "Spleen" but now I'm getting off track...

I AM THE ONLY PERSON who still wears old school hard contact lens in Slovakia. I found this out when I visited no less than 10 optic stores last week in search of solution, receiving the usual looks of, "Whaddya crazy?!" My take on this is that with socialism, Czechoslovakia was by-passed on the whole hard contacts development; no holdovers now since there were none to begin with. These days, however, people wear the more popular soft lenses and since I appear to be the only one still in hard lenses, they do not see fit to have a store to sell solution to yours truly. I anxiously await a solution shipment from Nancy, the same friend who has nailed an esteemed place in heaven after this year's mentoring duties. Dakujem!

LANGUAGE is fun, weird but fun. I often wonder how things end up being translated a certain way, and then consistently used by everyone. In the US if someone said, "Don't you have a pencil?" that is an accusatory question, as in "(What do you MEAN) you don't have a pencil?! Here people say it to mean, "Do you have a pencil?" I hear this all the time and I am always taken aback because it sounds rude but it's just a simple question. (Edit update: Marcel has just told me that is how it's said in Slovak so that is the way it is translated. Makes perfect sense.)

Everyone laughs about "being out in the nature" and Slovak teachers of english yell at their students to never, ever say this although everyone still does. First there is no good translation, so they say nature when we would say outdoors. Slovak language doesn't use articles so you "take tram and go to restaurant" for example. Not knowing when to use articles makes them likely to overuse them, so we get "the nature", doubly strange.

The words speaking and talking get mixed; they say speaking when we would use talking. Not wrong exactly, just different enough so I notice it.

Kids say they are learning for a test; teachers remind them they are STUDYING for a test, which probably makes little sense.

The verb "to be" gets conjugated not incorrectly, just oddly. People say, "Do you have a good time?" when they want to know "Are you having a good time?"

"There is the possibility of...you have the possibility to..." is often said when "you can" works just as well, but is seldom used here.

The word rehabilitation (or is it rehabitation),has become rehab when speaking of building projects, as in "rehabbing an old apartment building on the Southside of Chicago". I have never heard this word used here, if in fact it is one. People here say reconstruction, which is probably more accurate because it usually involves a complete interior gutting and often extensive exterior work.

I finally saw the word "trening" written on a Judo poster and now understand why kids always say they can't do training in my lesson (what I hear) but they mean trening (as in can't participate). Last fall I thought this was so completely presumptuous of them, to refer to our class as training and themselves as "athletes", but now I get it and my kids know a new word - PARTICIPATE! By the way, to say athlete is also confusing because it means one who does athletics, which we would call track & field.

Some words are more British than American due to the use of texts from UK. Hearing tins instead of cans sounds strange, as does bin instead of wastepaper basket/garbage can. Trash seems to satisfy everyone.

"Have you a pen?" they ask. Not wrong, but who do you know who talks like that?

I AM READING TOM WOLFE'S BOOK, "I Am Charlotte Simmons", which is set in a mythical ivy league school much like Harvard but smaller. In one part an upper classmen character attempts to explain his perception of success after undergraduate school and wanting TO DO things, preferably like being a Bad-Ass Rhodie. Says freshman Charlotte, " "There are only 32 Rhodes scholarships?" Yes, nods Adam. "Well golly, that's not very many. What if you're a bad- what if that's what you're counting on and you don't get one?"

"In that case," said Adam, "you go after a Fulbright. That's a pretty long way down from a Rhodes, but it's okay. There's also the Marshall Fellowships, but they're the last resort. I mean that's bottom-fishing..." "

So not a Bad-Ass, nowhere near, but I'm also not a bottom feeder!

MY LAST VISIT at another school was yesterday, at the public grammar school I'd mistakenly dropped in on a few weeks ago. Miroslava DID in fact follow up and the visit was a huge success. I was skeptical because she mentioned me teaching her english class as well as observing the PE class. Her students were beginner/intermediates and I knew they did not get as much english as our students so I wasn't sure if we could sustain the conversation format she had in mind.

Her class of 12 pupils were 6th graders, very excited and in a good frame of mind to receive me. It was obvious the teacher had prepared them well. They introduced themselves, said a little about their interests, family, etc. and I interrupted frequently to ask questions and extend the dialogue. This went well and then I took a turn and told them about me, Lab, Chicago. They all said they wanted to go to my school when I described the PE facilities. I talked about my own kids and just happened to have some of Christian's CSC cards with me. So, acting like Grandma Mary, I gave everyone his own and now Christian has 12 new Slovak fans. Juraj had even heard of him!

They asked did we follow ice hockey since that's huge here in Slovakia. I was asked about the food; do I like Kofula? NO! but then I also said no one here liked the root beer I brought over from Chicago. They just couldn't fathom it. And soup! I said I enjoy the soup but that is not our custom in the states. REALLY?! Not even on Sundays? Nope. Utter disbelief. I asked them what they thought of PE. Jan and Ludovito, who I'd pegged as jocks said they liked it, even - you guessed it - vybijana. Others were less enthusiastic. Teacher Miroslava asked did we have a name for this game and I had to explain it was dodgeball. "And what does it mean, dodge?" she asked, apparently a new word for her. (Oh, great, I'm a world ambassador on the level of Ben Stiller in "Dodgeball")

It was a class that no one wanted to end. Lots of moans when the bell rang with hopes that I could come again. Unfortunately I have a different schedule next week as well as final grade reports so I won't be able to return. Right before leaving, Miroslava asked who was a "first-timer" for hearing a native speaker? FIVE girls raised their hands, and it blew me away. I was so impressed with them, my last comments were to keep talking, make mistakes because that's how you learn, and that they'd been talking to someone with a Chicago accent!

I was then walked over to the gym where a special volleyball class was in session, but following the exuberance of the english class this was a dud. These 13 year olds were in an extended double-period class but were less skilled than my girls. This was the fifth gym I had been in and I realized they are all (old and new) outfitted the same way: balance beams that store vertically, ropes, stall bars, shabby set of rings, blue metal bars you assemble for gymnastics. I didn't see the "goat" but I'm sure it was lurking in some equipment room.

Men teach boys and women teach girls, and students have class twice weekly. The regular teacher was sick but I noticed that the substitute had the curriculum document on the bench, the same kind of year-long plan I had had to create at the beginning of the year. The jeans-wearing substitute was a PE teacher himself and spoke a little english. I couldn't resist asking him about skill tests for university admission in physical education. He said there are standards for all sports, even swimming. (About zero chance that you'd ever teach swimming in a public school, since they're all the same and DON"T include pools.) He said - ready? - he took his tests FOUR times before he was admitted!

Just this week we tested our students in swimming according to their protocol, which meant timed 25 meter swims. There was no credit for rhythmic breathing and/or endurance and a certain amount of thrashing between the lane lines in a 12-year-olds attempt at speed. Everyone is interested in the bottom line here; you win or you lose, make the time or don't.

FLAG DAY IS COMING! I know, and who celebrates THAT? Well, this year I do. It is the custom at my school on one's birthday or name's day to bring in treats for everyone and put out the spread in the common area of our office. I did this last October and everyone else does it from time to time. When projects are finished we also eat (and drink!) to celebrate. Since I'd like to thank everyone for my year here but can't do so at my flat, I'm going to stage a celebration this Thursday on Flag Day to show my appreciation. I got in touch with Lucia at the American Embassy and she supplied me with lots of flags and red, white and blue decorations, including one of those round paper, hanging globe thingees. I have flag napkins from home, r-w-b grosgrain ribbon and will look for flowers. If nothing else, the decor will be to die for! Hot dogs and apple pie would be perfect, but I think I'll settle for cold cuts and fresh veggies... and NO KOFULA!

Masters of the Universe; Leaders of the Turtle Food

At my school each class has a name, as determined by the administration and the alphabet. I teach the Primas who are Pilots and Racers. The Segundas make up my swimming classes, and are fittingly called Neptunes and Oceans. Tercias are Masters and Leaders, and the Quartas answer to Heroes, Innovators and Jets. I teach Friends in Kvinta, and they are indeed friendly, but I don't have the Europeans who are considered the school's most difficult class. There is a good explanation as to why Bears and Kites are together and the fact that Guardians and Zillions just graduated, but it's not important. (I actually just had this mystery explained to me. At the same time I also found out there is an english-slovak on-line source for translation. That only took me nine months to figure out and now I have 3 weeks to actually use it. Argghh!)

But let's get back to those Tercias, shall we? Last Friday was International Childrens' Day (Like everyday isn't!) and all the schools celebrate it here. School is still in session but special events are planned for the day. Our 5th through 8th grade students got to choose to go to the cinema, bike along the Danube, go to the Prater (huge amusement park in Vienna) or remain here and do organized sports, all supervised by faculty. (Girls choosing sport played Vybijana - all day - what a surprise.) The Senior School students, apparently not considered children, did not take part and had a regular schedule that day.

Leaders and Masters had planned a long week-end for their version of Childrens' Day. Vilo, the Leaders class teacher had organized a trip to Orava up in the High Tatras, including hiking, an afternoon at a water park and a visit to Orava Castle. Eva, Masters class teacher and my aerobics buddy would be going and Nyall, her assistant class teacher. I had been tapped to be the fourth chaperone and was thrilled to be included. Orava is where Sona comes from (Sona ORAVcova) and she had talked about how I should try to get up there because it is so beautiful. I already knew Leaders and Masters were fun classes to teach, and of all our groups everyone agrees that Leaders are very special. (They are sometimes almost too nice and recently admitted the unthinkable: they just couldn't play Capture the Flag. Too accomodating to be competitive, the game was lackluster at best. In all my years of teaching I have never seen such a strange non-display of strategy and risk taking, except for Rebeka who unfortunately spent the whole game in jail because her teamates were too chicken to help her get out.)

Cut to the Thursday before the big trip. I can't get into the Leaders classroom where I usually have my weekly conversation class. The students tell me they have to clean it up and so we go elsewhere. Later Alex and Veronika of Leaders come and join our group after they had finished cleaning. They explain that some girls had smeared a combination of glitter and turtle food on the cabinet. (Turtle is long gone, one of the boys having broken the tank.) The boys are responsible for shoe prints on the ceiling and walls, and apple cores and bananas peels are strewn about. The girls 'fessed up but the boys refused to admit and/or rat on anybody. Uh-oh; this is the GOOD class that I'm about to chaperone? The long week-end is looking longer all the time.

Friday is June 1st and we board the bus to begin our extended celebration of Childrens' Day. We head northwest into the mountains, and it just gets prettier and prettier. We travel through fields where the hay is stacked like little houses with peaked roofs and openings that look like doors. There are streams and a few lakes, but mostly enormous clumps of towering pine trees. Vilo says they get 2-3 meters of snow up there, making for a long, hard winter. There are some cows and herds of sheep, but not too many seen from the road. We see storks and their huge nests way up high. We notice the building is way different here with unique wooden houses all designed seemingly from the same plan. We see farmers but small fields and not much machinery. Farmers are stooped over doing something in the fields; they're often women and usually wearing skirts.

Almost 5 hours later we arrive at our first stop, the Orava Castle. Built in the 13th century, and like all castles, extensively remodeled for centuries, it is one of the most popular castles to visit in Slovakia. In honor of International Childrens' Day there was a Haunted Fairy Tale Castle event with live performances at certain points starting with a Medieval sword fight. Most stagings seemed to be well received by the students but I still can't figure out why we saw a Sheherzade re-enactment in one of the dining rooms. On went her CD and she danced around the table, doing bad gymnastics limbers and strange feats of flexibility. I asked Eva what was THAT all about, and even she couldn't answer.

Our next stop was at a dam, but that's pretty much all it was. No one seemed to be expecting us for a tour; we saw the outside dam wall and got back on the bus. Shortly after our arrival at the hotel we had our first of what was to be very bland and marginally nutritious meals. Our students were served not one piece of fruit and no dairy products in four days; the morning of our scheduled hike we got bread, butter and jam. Sweet, hot tea accompanied every meal.

Later that evening, we went upstairs and checked the individual rooms, telling the kids the schedule for the next day. I thought it was odd that everyone (boys and girls) was in pajamas, matching tops and bottoms, like the polyester flameproof ones my kids used to wear when they were about 8 years old. Eva and I finished the rounds and went to bed about 11:00. Unfortunately, not everyone else did, and when Vilo heard noises at midnight, he found some boys visiting girls in their room. Decked out in their matching flameproof jammies, it was innocent enough but inappropriate and clearly against the rules. Next morning, it was decided that they would be allowed to stay but with a special curfew. However, one boy's parents felt their son should be taken home so they drove all the way up there to do just that.

Saturday's plan for Aqua Park got readjusted because the weather looked dismal. Instead we went to an outdoor museum with over 20 transplanted wooden homes, outfitted to show the life in Orava hundreds of years ago. I loved this, but the kids literally sprinted from house to house, their highlight being a goat nibbling on someone's jacket. We followed this up with a trip to a different, smaller water park that was mostly indoors. I thought it seemed boring, but a number of girls I quizzed later said it was their favorite part.

Finally we were driven to THE SLOVAK TANK, another highlight for even more of the students. Some guy in camo gave us the rules and boarded about 25 of us for a 15 minute ride over hills and through streams. I was in the back where it was bumpier but at least didn't have to look at the view from the front, especially the downhill parts. Some kids paid for a second ride, and the "general" drove them out again. Saturday night was eventless; it probably helped that everyone was getting tired. Kids kept busy with pool, ping pong, fussball, play stations and of course their music. No programs were planned but they seemed capable of occupying their time with little problem.

Sunday started out dry but dreary, so we started to hike after the afore-mentioned unsubstantial breakfast. Fifteen minutes out, occasional drizzle turned to steady rain and we all took refuge under a bus shelter. After one and 1/2 hours of this, including a reconaissance mission by Vilo, we canned the hike and returned to the hotel. Eva was getting a cold and had stayed home with a few of the other girls who claimed to also feel poorly. We took naps that afternoon and I realized how exhausted I was from the stress of the trip. Later, I took a hike by myself before supper, just needing to get outside and once again got caught in the rain.

Dinner was noodles, poppy seeds, and powdered sugar, our second "sweet" supper and something I always try to avoid in the canteen at school. Not to worry, though, because we later roasted hot dogs at the fire pit. Nyall split some wood helped by some of the boys. Vilo went grocery shopping and everyone else waited - a really long time. Marshmallows couldn't be located although they do sell them here and sadly, no one knows about s'mores. Our spicacky was delish, and many of us lingered around the now roaring fire. Some of the kids sang tramp songs; I forced them to listen to my version of "Take Me Out to the Ball Game". This last night was another of the favorites that kids talked about later on at school, with nary a mention of the educational stuff.

Monday was traveling day so we packed up and boarded the bus after breakfast. Our drive took a bit longer because we stopped several times so Ada could puke roadside. We watched "Bridget Jonesova" in Czech, and they selected the english sub titles for my benefit. (Ada told me later she was fine afterward, explaining that she had "autobus" sickness. She also showed me a huge yellow and purple bruise she got on her hip from the tank ride; rough week end.)

FLASH! At school today I have been notified that I will help chaperone the Quartas in their "Expedition". It is a tour literally around Slovakia, traveling in a circle and visiting most places that tourists never see. Sona traditionally organizes this in her capacity as geography teacher, but in her stead Vilo has has put together the program. Marcel and Zabco, class teachers, accompany Vilo and I will make the fourth. We have about 40 students and will be traveling 5 days, staying in a different place each night. Hiking and caving will be included and I'll finally be able to get to the eastern, more rural part of the country. I think it will be a wonderful experience for my last weeks at schools and look forward to being with the students in this type of environment. All of my deadlines just got pushed forward as my teaching will end before the trip begins. So pack your matching PJ's and dramamine - we're goin' on the Expedition!

A (Half) Night at the Opera

With the coming of sunny, mild spring weather and longer, lighter nights I seem to have dispensed with my weekly opera/ballet habit. A few weeks ago therefore, I thought I'd check the theater schedule and try to buy tickets for something I hadn't seen before. The Merry Widow caught my attention because it's described as an operetta, like a musical comedy, and greatly appealed to me as a fun night of entertainment.

When I arrived the ushers were explaining that one of the stars had taken ill and they were substituting Rusalka, an opera by the Czech Dvorak, but we could get our money back if we preferred not to attend. I opted to stay, thinking, hey, I at least had heard of Dvorak and knew this particular opera was part of the season's repetoire, so why not? And if you're thinking you don't like where this is heading you're thinking right.

Lights dim, conductor begins and we see the staging of a forest...with a very sparkly but Rubenesque character reclining on the branch of a tree. Tonight the opera is sung in Czech with German subtitles, instead of in Italian with Slovak subtitles. We see three blond-wigged (a la Farrah Fawcett) characters sing and cavort on stage. The Supremes interact with a bass demon in dreads who sings from the recesses of the stage floor because he's in the (pretend) water. Although the chorus routinely appears very sharp, it didn't help things when one of them tripped on his costume going downstairs.

Finally, Ms. Sparkly emerges and you get the idea that she is from the nether-world and moaning about something or other, and a little too old and un-svelte to be pulling this off. (I know, this is probably a very American take on the cast, but I just couldn't get my head wrapped around the plot.) She also has a Farrah wig on, although in a varied shade and different style. Hilarity ensues...NOT. This looks to be a heavy opera in more ways than one.

Thankfully, intermission arrives and I run home to see what the hell I'm watching. (You can buy the program at the theater but the english translation is so bizarre it' s always better to google.) Well, it seems I am watching something based loosely on a fairy tale, much like Disney's Little Mermaid, except she dies! ("Ariel, listen to me..."

Rusalka is the term for a mythological Slavik water sprite and this one has gone and fallen in love with a prince. If she pursues this life and "goes human" she will be speechless, (them's the breaks in the enchanted pond) which kind of puts the damper on her singing part. Rusalka is forced to act, appearing upset but determined to be a good (albeit quiet) bride. Oddly, whenever her prince/hunter boyfriend is on stage he has a video camera, taping Rusalka.

Later, in Act II we are at the castle where we now have "suits" playing body guards, complete with shades and ear pieces. Out comes the prince, camcorder in hand, but this time he's taping some other visiting princess who wears a really silly gold crown and ugly red dress. It gets better - and stranger. The ball unfolds and everyone is in Halloween orange and black with a little bit of silver for drama. Picture the women: they wear the trick or treat colors, with exposed breasts but really it is a plastic silver breastplate, like if you were trying to pretend to be the Incredibe Hulk. Their wigs are great; they look like a cross between SNL's conehead and Brides of Frankenstein. The men aren't bad either; they have black wigs with white mohawks. During this visual assault I didn't know where to look first. All I could picture was the costume and stage designers going, "What, Rusalka again?! OK, we'll give you Rusalka..."

At this point I'd give anything to hear the lively calypso version of "Under the Sea", but that's not going to happen. The well-known aria is called "Song to the Moon", with which I am not familiar but Sarah Brightman included it an album a few years ago. Anyone out there know it?

Anyway, after the Halloween costume ball, there is a SECOND intermission, and it is now that I realize this baby isn't going to end until 10:00, much too late for a disinterested opera patron who has school the following day. So Act III happened without me and I assume Rusalka bit the dust. I am not sure if the prince taped her demise but I would hope that his royal upbringing would prevent such crassness. And... where are Groucho, Harpo and Chico when you could use them?!