Russian

Katya calls at dawn: we have a girl, she was born at ten past four, how are you both, three four hundred and fifty-one centimetres, who does she look like, she has your nose, Dima takes the phone and congratulates her on her daughter, what will you call her, Masha as we agreed, now sleep, we'll come at nine.

Katya at the maternity-hospital window, Sam and Galina Petrovna below: can you see her, what little hands, so tiny, a little nose like yours, is she eating, she sleeps and eats like a good girl, did you bring the juice, yes, and flowers and a balloon, go home, the little one is asleep, bye, little Masha, till tomorrow.

The discharge at the maternity hospital: Dad, come forward and receive your daughter, like this, hold her head and don't be afraid, I've got her, how light, sign here please, give her to me, she's hungry, congratulations and be happy, thank you for everything, say thank you properly, with the flowers.

The first nights at home: how old is she now, five days, it's time to feed her, at a week you can already bathe her, she's only five days old, I bathed her yesterday, did you sleep, two hours and she cried in the night, a father on duty, go and sleep, I'll rock her, go on, we're here.

The registry office: surname, name and patronymic of the father, Cooper, Sam, I have no patronymic, then the child's patronymic will be Semyonovna, Maria Semyonovna Cooper, write it just like that, place of birth Moscow, citizenship of the parents, Russia and the USA, the birth certificate will be ready in an hour, and a copy for the consulate please.

The service centre: what do you need, to register my daughter at our address, fill in the application and write I ask you to register, done writing, what next, who is the owner of the flat, my wife, here's the birth certificate, issued when, on the twenty-eighth of May, all signed and certified, done.

The translation bureau: I need a translation of the birth certificate into English, with notarisation, yes and an apostille, for the apostille a separate submission, how long will it take, the translation within two working days and the apostille within five, pick-up Friday after two, I'll come with the baby if you don't mind.

Passport photographs of a two-month-old: we need passport photos, the eyes must be open, she's asleep, wake up Masha, don't cry, white background and no hands in the picture, I'll hold her from behind, and she mustn't smile, she's two months old and does what she likes, got it, that one's good.

The folder for the consulate, read out at the kitchen table: a document confirming the marriage, the marriage certificate with a translation, a document confirming the father's place of residence, the registration, got it, read on, a valid passport, and a photograph in which the child isn't smiling, the appointment is on Tuesday at nine, one folder, two countries.

Sam at the music school: what can I do for you, I'd like to take leave to care for the child, for what term, from the first of July to the thirtieth of September, and your pupils, I'll hand them to Marina Sergeyevna, write the application with the from and to dates, I'll write it today, congratulations and come back by the autumn concert.

Arrivals at Sheremetyevo, Sam interpreting for his parents: Mum asks where the baby is, at home with Grandma, asleep, Dad asks whether the luggage will fit in the taxi, two cars, I've already called, Mum asks whether you're all right, tell her I'm fine, Dad asks how long the drive is, forty minutes if there's no traffic.

Baba Valya's kitchen table with the guests from Portland, Sam in the middle: tell them to eat, Mum asks you to pass on that it's very tasty, Grandma asks that nobody gets up hungry, Dad asks for the pickle recipe, tell your dad it's a secret, ask whether they sleep well, Mum says like at home, tell them the dacha is on Saturday.

Tea after dinner, the two families sorting out their names for each other: your mother and I are co-mothers-in-law now, and you're my mother-in-law, and you're my son-in-law, and I'm a great-grandmother, what is my mum to Katya, the husband's mother, a different word, Masha is a granddaughter to four people, and a great-granddaughter to one.

Sunday lunch, Dima and Lena over: the child must be christened, we've decided, in July, Dima, we'd like to ask you something, about what, we'd like to ask you to be Masha's godfather, me, gladly, and Lena the godmother, at last a sensible conversation.

On the church steps after the christening: so, I've become a godmother, and I a godfather, hold the candle, they named her Maria, at home she stays Masha, she didn't cry once, she was the calmest of all, thank you both, now you're doubly family to us, we were family already.

The long table under the apple trees at the dacha, Uncle Vova on his feet: to Masha, so that she grows up healthy, and to her mother, may the house be full of children, Vova, shorter, to the grandparents, all four, Dad says, translate: to the family, so that you always understand each other, well, drink and eat.

Back from the river at the dacha, Uncle Vova and Sam's father without a word in common: your dad and I understood each other without you, how, we showed each other the fish, they hugged on the jetty, I saw, he caught three, I two, Dad says you'll see each other in Portland, they'll write to each other, in pictures, now to the banya, all together.

Baba Valya dictates her pancakes to Sam's mother, Sam with the pen: write down, two hundred grams of flour, how much milk, half a litre, warm, three eggs, a pinch of salt, a spoon of sugar, Mum asks about the butter, a little in the batter and grease the pan, fry on both sides, and let her phone me when she bakes them.

The two-month check at the children's clinic: undress her, she's put on eight hundred grams, and in height, grown by three centimetres, is that good, a kilo heavier than at birth, excellent, the vaccination is today, don't bathe her this evening, and the medical policy, already in her file, next visit in a month.

The ticket window at Yaroslavsky station: nine tickets to Irkutsk, please, how many adults, eight adults and a child, three months old, the child travels free, without a berth, two compartments for four and one lower berth, the sixteenth of August, at twenty-three fifty, how many days is the journey, almost four, you arrive on the morning of the fourth day.

Yaroslavsky station, the train to Irkutsk: tickets and passports, nine of us in two compartments, bedding included and tea extra, how long to Irkutsk, three and a half days, hot water at the end of the carriage round the clock, and the first night is the longest.

The second day on the train: noon by the timetable and dark outside, the train runs on Moscow time, Irkutsk is five hours ahead, lunch by local time and sleep by Moscow time, Masha on her own time, the stop at six Moscow time, and two watches like in a maths problem.

The third morning on the train: approaching the Urals, where is the border, the post by the line, so we have crossed into Asia and left Europe behind, Yekaterinburg in an hour, Baba Valya has never seen the Urals, and in two days we arrive.

The fourth day on the train with Masha: she slept the whole night without waking, rocking her Sam fell asleep himself, Lena takes her while they eat, looking out of the window she's quiet, crying she wakes the carriage, having had lunch she'll sleep, and having arrived everyone will sleep, on the shore in the fresh air.

A platform stop in Siberia: twenty minutes, we'll make it, pine nuts, how much, three hundred a bag and smoked fish too, two bags before the train leaves, as soon as it whistles run, the conductor won't wait, we'll make it if the queue moves, take your change, it's whistling.

The guesthouse in Listvyanka: welcome, the rooms are upstairs, the whole family with the baby, the quietest room for her, is that Baikal, the deepest in the world, one thousand six hundred and forty-two metres, the cleanest water, the oldest too, and dinner at seven.

Dinner at the guesthouse: the colder the water the tastier the fish, the fresher the better like at home, are these dumplings, buuz from Buryatia eaten with the hands, the more pleats the more skilful the cook, thirty-three count them, the longer we stay the more Sam eats, and the further from Moscow the better they cook.

A boat on Lake Baikal: dip your hand in for a long life, about ten degrees, the shore about twenty metres away, Masha's little hand too, she's about three months old and already in Baikal, about two hours to the island, about five of us seasick, and Dad took about two hundred photos.

Sheremetyevo, the grandparents flying home: Mum says call us when she starts talking, when she says her first word you'll hear it first, when they land let them write, Dad says the piano is waiting when you come, when Masha is one we'll come, when Mum bakes the pancakes let her send a photo, thank you for everything, and when the plane takes off we'll go home and sleep.

Igor on the phone: a band needs a pianist, Thursday, live on the radio, but Sam is on leave, a rehearsal on Tuesday, are you against, not against if Katya agrees, Katya agrees, so agreed, agreed and shake on it, and the radio wants Sam to talk about pianos too.