Recipe for plov, a traditional dish from Uzbekistan

Plov is the national dish of Uzbekistan and Tajikistan, cooked in many Slavic households. This recipe is from Evelin "Vilka," age 18, of Kyrgyzstan.

Ingredients:
1 cup of oil
2 onions, sliced
2 carrots julienne
2 lbs meat (beef or chicken), cubed
1 cup rice
1 1/4 cup water
pinch of salt, cardamom, curry spice
Serves a big family (of 6 or 7)

Preparation:
1. Heat one cup of oil in a wok or pan.
2. Add cubed meat, fry for about 10 minutes.
3. Add sliced onions and fry for about 3 minutes.
4. Add carrots julienne, fry for about 5 minutes.
5. Add rice, then water and season with salt and spices. Cover the wok.
6. Let simmer with a gap for steam until water is gone.
7. Season to taste and serve with catchup and ranch dressing, and tomato and cucumber salad.

(photo credit: tashkentzoo)

I AM

Azbuka Academy 9th & 10th grade English class group poem,
photo by Liliya Khylchuk

I am
purple,
the world,
texting,
and sleeping.

I get lost.

I am
happy,
a legend,
nothing,
smart basketball player,
terry-twisted
Facundo.

I am music,
a lot of food,
soccer ball,
fan,
starfruit,
strawberry,
tired summer,
chocolate.

I am Russian.

"Hi!"
"What?"

Some things that need to be changed in my neighborhood

by Sergei K, age 14

I live in a Southeast Portland neighborhood in Oregon. In my neighborhood there a lot of things that should be changed.

The first thing that can be changed in my neighborhood is for cars to drive slower and more carefully. On my street the cars drive really fast and don't notice that there is a school nearby and that small kids cross the street and can get hit easily. The city should put more stops and cameras in so people would slow down, because they will be afraid to get into trouble with the cops.

The second thing that can be changed is to make people stop selling drugs. There are some people that sell drugs in my neighborhood. People sell drugs without being scared because the cops most of the time never drive down our street. Cops need to drive throughout my neighborhood more often so it will be safe to walk on the streets and not be scared that someone on drugs will be walking by.

The third thing that can be changed in my neighborhood is that people should clean up after themselves. Some places in my neighborhood are dirty because of some people throwing away gum wrappers, candy wrappers, cans and other things. If the people in my neighborhood didn't throw stuff on the street after they eat or use things, then my neighborhood would always be clean.

In conclusion, I want the people in my neighborhood to clean up after themselves, not throw stuff on street, and be careful on the street to make our neighborhood clean and safe.

I'm from Ukraine

by Sergei K., age 14

I'm from Ukraine
I'm from sleeping in one room with three sisters and two brothers when I was small
I'm from five years of hard studying in school
I'm from dirty streets and air
I'm from fun and boring places
I'm from climbing trees and falling from roofs
I'm from helping mom and dad a lot on the farm
I'm from soccer with friends
I'm from swimming in the sea during summer
I'm from making things from wood, metal
I'm from good memories of Ukraine
Ukraine that's where I'm from

I'm From......

photograph by Victoria Kharitonenko
by Tanya Popovich, age 14


I'm from a summer country, where I like to play and sleep.....
I'm from a flower country, where the strawberries grow and figs,
I'm from a sunny country where I dance and sing,
I'm from that lovely place....
I like to watch movies, play games, eat sweets.....
I like winter, I like kids, I like the ocean and the waves
I'm from a country that just lives........

I want others to see...

by Y.K., age 15

I want others to see our Slavic Community as a nice and proper community. I would hate for others to see our community as druggies and as stupid people. I want to see my community as smart and caring people.

It's easy to tell that our community is turning into someone else, they don't want to keep their natural looks and languages, they want to be like someone else. They want to look like someone else.

Our community is hard to understand, because there are so many of us that are different, and most people when they see one Slavic person that has made a mistake, was rude or was smoking into peoples faces, they think that every Slavic person is like that. That's why some people say that Americans don't like Russians. Well, I wonder why? Because one person showed a bad image of our community. And then the rest of us have to suffer from the dislike and hate.

I want our community to change their ways, to be themselves and not try to be like someone else. If we showed the caring and smart people that we are and the true us, I bet that people would really enjoy our humor and really be amazed at how great we are.

Our Slavic community is changing, but our hearts aren't. That's why we need to show our kindness to others and to ourselves.

I Remember

photograph by Victoria Kharitonenko
group poem by three Azbuka Academy students


I remember the world of joy and happiness in my childhood when I played in the sand with my friends.

I remember the white, puffy bunnies.
I remember my grandma babysitting me.

I remember my grandma who talks with a powerful, squeaky voice.

I remember the really cold winters with lots of snow and the frozen snowman right in front of my house.

I remember the first small white house we had.

I remember my town, full of rumors and truth.

I remember my dog barking with a strong, deep and scary voice.

I remember the soft noise of leaves, wind and river in a forest.

I remember teachers making us memorize few-pages-long poems and telling them in front of class.

I remember staying up until morning and getting my homework done.

I remember the first day I came to this school in 2008.

I remember my teacher who acted like an army sargeant.

I remember freezing to death last year in this school.

I remember the headaches in school from last year.

I remembermy old, boring and noisy school.

I remember things that I now think of as legends.

I remember the beautiful concert in which I played the big, black, grand piano.

I remember having trouble memorizing this poem!

Untitled

group poem by Cody, Dorina, and Viorel
photo by Victoria Kharitonenko

Special people in my life
who I protect with my knife.
In the late dark night
I see people in my eyes
people that aren't supposed to be there,
people who live their lives
unfair like killers
and drug users and rapists
and abusers.
I try to keep my loved ones from that
But you really can't control everyone like that.
Everyone's got their own mind.
But I still keep them in line.

My street is full of fights
All the people need to stop but
I need to make them stop
because that's what we do in life.
People laugh, people cry,
people need me in their life.
Now just open your eyes and see
that only I was there for you.
So please don't feel blue
because that's not for you.

Viorel is my name
army is my gang
No matter what
I will go in the armată
But one thing I really wanna do
is finish school and go in the army
stay there three years
then be a boss
so I can come home
when I want
and after the army
get a really good job
a dream job.