At the end.

I spent four days traveling, but I’m finally here; New Zealand, on the top of a hill, in the house my parents just built. A kind of home, since my family is here, but a place I’ve never actually lived. The four days were a network of plane flights, layovers, and at the end a ferry ride and four hour car ride, and never have a been so glad to finally stop traveling.

I many ways I couldn’t be farther from Russia. Its summer, I’m in the middle of what used to be – and is still surrounded by – a cow pasture, instead of a big city. At night I listen to deafening silence instead of trams running past my window. Right now I can hear a light rain beating against the roof over my head, instead of being isolated from the noise by another level of apartments. The amount of space I have to myself is luxurious, as is the size of our kitchen/dining room and the house overall. I have eaten salad at almost every meal. I can drink water from the tap. I’ve traveled most of the way around the world to get here, and I still almost can’t believe that I left.
I miss the presence of Russian in my brain, a constant hum that either needed to be translated or was waiting to be uttered in a heavy accent. I miss the snow, and while I love being able to wear lighter clothing (‘Its been cold here, we got a front down from Alaska’ Marianne told me during my stopover in San Francisco. ‘Cold? Is this cold?’ I replied, stepping out into balmy 40 or 50 degree weather), it feels strange. The silence really is deafening, after being in a city for so long, especially only separated from the street by a thin window; I think its part of the reason I’ve had trouble sleeping. That and the light, since the light level at about four or five in the morning here is the same as it was in Russia at eight thirty, my normal getting up time. That’s another thing; the days are just so long. I never appreciated daylight so much before.

But more on Russia itself, or rather my experience there. Without a doubt, it was one of the best and most important of my life so far. Russia convinced me that I can, and should, live in other countries even with a language barrier, that I am capable of learning and using a foreign language, and that it is certainly possible to get around with just the basics. I trust myself and my abilities to survive and – even – flourish in alien environments. Russia also required me to stretch my definition of living standards. I was better off than many of the other Americans, having lived in small-town NZ as well as middle-class America, and I wasn’t outraged at the living conditions. Still, living at lower than customary standards, and realizing that nearly everyone in Russia shares those standards, was informative, to say the least. I actually enjoyed living more poorly, but I realize that I can enjoy it, because for me it is a choice; for many Russians, it’s the only way of life.
Russia also in a lot of ways confirmed my interests. I always vaguely thought that, yes, anthropology was the right field for me. But now I realize that it is actually the ideal field. I’m not interested in politics, or economics, or even sociology. I’m interested in people, how they live, how they interact, why they do what they do. Even history, for me, is a tool for understanding the background of current traits, and why they might have arisen. I have come out of Russia with a huge respect for the Russian people, for everything that they have gone through, what they still see ahead. They are survivors, and while they might be cold in public in private they are warm and generous. The real Russia is the peoples’ Russia, a huge and multi-varied one, not Putin’s Russia that caters to the elites, perhaps the top 2% of the population. If the people support him, its because he brought about economic stability and some return to order. There is more than one side to every issue.

Perhaps most importantly, I know myself better than I ever have before. If necessity is the mother of invention, it is also a honing tool, paring down all of what make you up to the most essential and important of it all. And when you know yourself, you can do anything, doing it in your own, individual and personally inspired way.

So, Duh svidanya Russia. I hope I will see you again soon.