In the words of John Denver, "My bags are packed; I'm ready to go."
We had Spectacle on Thursday (my girls shined in their turtle shells and sang the most interesting rendition of "I Had a Tiny Turtle" ever). I finished teaching on Friday. We went on a nice boat tour of Moscow on Saturday, and then when to Gulya's tiny apartment today after church for a culture class that involved making/eating pirozhki (basically rolls with a filling baked in the middle) and listening to her tell us all about the Communist regime in Russia and what life was like during Soviet times (I can't think of a more fitting way to spend my last afternoon in Russia). It has been a fabulous- if stressfull with all the packing I've been having to do- last few days here in Rah-SEE-ya.
I'm caught in one of those in-between places again right now. No more metro rides or early-morning hauls on the 121. No more trips through the chaotic grocery world of АШАН СИТИ. No more having to worry about getting eaten by the gaurd dog. No more cathedrals or onion-shaped domes. No more rrrolling rrrr's. No more waking up and thinking, "Yeah! I get to see my kids today." No more monkeys jumping on the bed.
Just a drive to the airport, a couple of long flights, a stop by the baggage claim in Salt Lake, a three hour drive, and then the Nevadgabond will be back home, if only for eighteen hours before heading back to Salt Lake for some training.
Russia's great, but I think I just might kiss the nice, clean (comparatively), beautiful ground of America when I get there.
No comments:
Post a Comment