Bedtime Stories

(Matt)
It's 11:30 on Saturday night and I should have gone to bed an hour and a half ago. But I have so many things I ought to share with you first, and truth be told I drank a cup of tea tonight after 7 pm against my better judgment, which (as those of you who are familiar with my intolerance towards caffeine well know) has given me enough jolt at least to make it through this post.

Reading your comments to our latest posts has made me realize two certainties: (1) I miss all of you and wish you could teleport out here for awhile to share our experiences; and (2) apparently I need to include more candid descriptions of bodily ailments in my posts, since Makinzie's revelation of her bout with ringworm now stands as the single most "commented upon" post to date. I see how it is--my painstaking literary craftsmanship apparently is far less interesting than my wife's skin fungus. OK, I can play the part of the author fading into obscurity, but let me say only this: be careful where you cast your favors; you may not want to encourage Makinzie any further in her decision to use turn our blog space into WebMD . . .

To tie up loose ends from my last post, I should announce the uncontested winner of the "name the instructions on Matt's barley porridge box Contest", which was expertly solved by Liam (did anyone doubt?). Four smiley faces, as Liam rightly determined, represents four happy people-- made so, apparently, by the correct measurement of 1 liter of water boiled along with the barley flakes they are to be enjoying. Liam, for your excellence in determining this enigma, I am recommending you for a prestigious post in the Department of Symbology at Harvard University. The rest of you need to read more folk remedy books and watch Mary Poppins again.

Many things have happened in the last few days that I want to tell you about, including:

• A trip to the Great War of the Fatherland Museum on Friday with our combined Russian language classes. We forgot our camera, but you can get a general idea of the museum from the pictures on this site:(http://www.peachmountain.com/5star/Museums_Great_Patriotic_War_Museum_Moscow.asp). I wish I had time to give an exhaustive account of the museum and its beautiful and moving dioramas of the WWII "beatvah's" (battles) on Russian soil, but it would take more words than I can spend right now. Only, when you imagine this trip in your mind, be sure to account for the full setting of a two-hour trip through a Russian museum where nothing is written in English, accompanied by a teacher who speaks only in Russian.
• Another "Student Night" at our house on Friday evening. This time, a new student named Alexander (Sasha) brought his guitar and we spent a great deal of the evening singing praise songs in both English and in Russian. Some of the songs they know surprised me, such as "Amazing Love", which seems still modern to me. The students also sang some very old Slavic church songs--beautiful, majestic, and sad. We took about twenty minutes of video during the night, so we can share some of these songs with you when we return.
• We found out that water is apparently back "on" in the northern area of Moscow, which means that the expected events Makinzie described in her previous post might not affect us. It seems that the Floridians will be staying in another part of the city as previously planned.
• I bought a "piryohg" today all by myself at a local kiosk. This is a big deal for me because I've been scared to engage in the transactional language of buying and selling so far. The little pastry was quite good but I was later a little sick in the stomach.

And while I could expand on these items and more, I really wanted to share two other concerns that have been on my mind throughout the day--thoughts about Russia and our purpose here. Just a warning: these thoughts are not "light" or "happy" reading.

First, I've been reading a book about the political changes in Russia during the late 1980s and the profound impact these events had on the people of the country. (The book is Lenin's Tomb by David Remnick.) Remnick is very forthright about the terrors initiated by Josef Stalin in Russia during the first half of the twentieth-century and includes interviews with hundreds of people who watched as their loved ones were kidnapped, imprisoned, or murdered without little cause. One particular passage relates a man's account of life in Magadan, a town on the far northeastern seabord of Russia where political prisoners were shipped to be killed: "Even in late spring, the ice was thick near the shore. It was on days like those that the tramp steamers could not make it through to the docks. The prisoners, many of them barefoot and dressed in rags, had to walk on the ice for the last mile to shore. [...] In a way, arrival was a relief, the journey had been such hell. The train trip to the far east from Moscow and European Russia was in cattle cars, and it took a month at least." This is one of the least depressing passages of the book--I'll spare you others. Remnick explains that 19,800,00 people were arrested in Russia between 1935 and 1941: 7,000,000 were executed.

Seven million! Now, I admit that this is not "news" and I am willing to grant that many of you already know much more about the history of oppression here in Russia than I do. But as I'm reading the details here on my own I'm thinking, why isn't this history taught in American schools? It would be unthinkable to leave out teaching the nightmare of the German concentration camps during the 40s, but we don't really seem to take much interest in the details of Soviet history, and I don't know why. My reaction here is less one of condemnation than incredulousness at my own ignorance.

But today a missionary friend here told us that they have a problem with finding Americans who are willing to stay in Russia long-term--people seem to come and go in somewhat rapid succession. Perhaps I'm forcing a connection, but I was left wondering if our lack of knowledge about Russia is partly a cause for the disinterest that this friend was describing. I know that I certainly was unprepared to find that the tragedy of Russian history is still manifest in the daily lives of the citizens around us. I have been slow to face the reality that life in Russia is still very, very hard, whatever the outward trappings of the society may betray. I see the evidence everyday as I watch the people in the metro--there's a national sadness and "weight" that I am only now beginning to recognize. I feel a responsibility to bear witness of these perceptions to you, even though I realize that it makes for rather uninspired bedtime reading.

"Thoughts of a dry brain in a dry season" (T.S. Eliot). That's what happens when a post is finished at 1 in the morning.

I promise to write next time about "Rave Girl" (so far my favorite brand of clothing in Moscow) and the curious state of "djeenees" (jeans) in the city!

--Matt