I've been thinking about this post for a long time now, and I think it will probably be the second to last that I post on this blog. I'm planning on adding something like an epilogue, or some final thoughts, after I've had some time back home to collect myself, but this will be the last post from abroad.
There are two things I want to address in this post: the first new word I learned here, and the most valuable position I have acquired in my time abroad.
I'll start with a story first though.
When I arrived here in Moscow, I already had two years of university level Russian classes, and felt that despite the fact that I certainly wasn't fluent, I wouldn't have much trouble getting around with the level of Russian I was arriving with. I was very, very wrong. When I flew into the airport, it was already around 1 in the morning, I had been awake for over 24 hours, and probably would have struggled to function in English, and was failing miserable at trying to find my taxi driver. I ended up paying $10 to a stranger to call my cab driver and figure out where he was, and another $15 to the pre-paid cab driver for "parking fees" since I was late (I later found out these fees were made up). Saying that I could barely communicate with my host, or anyone else in Russian, would be an exaggeration, and I spent most of my time in class staring blankly at my professors hoping something would click eventually, and dreading the nightly dinner conversations with my host that always left me feeling exhausted.
After about of week of this, I finally plucked up enough courage to ask my host about where I could buy some boots, because I thought that buying them here in Russia would save me some room in my suitcase, and also ensure that I got something that could stand up to Russian winter. After spending far more time explaining what I needed than it should have taken my host finally looked at me and used a word I had heard once or twice already.
"Дурак"
(Dy - rak)
I asked her what it meant, but couldn't understand, so I looked it up in the dictionary that I had brought with me, and found that it meant "fool, or idiot."
I did my best not to take that personally, but I would be lying if I said it wasn't a bit of a shock to me. I've come to realize that my host is just honest, and she was absolutely right. Only an idiot would come to Russia without boots. It wasn't just the boots though, I didn't understand so many things when I first got here, and I didn't even realize the sheer scope of the things I had no experience with until I had been thrown headfirst into them. Getting scammed twice in an airport, getting into a yelling match to get a pack of gum, having to work as a terrible translator to help my friend explain why he wasn't interested in marrying a girl we had only met an hour early in a club, really the list could go on forever.
I ended up buying a pair of boots for myself when we were in St Petersburg so I could give back the boots another student had lent me for a few days. They were a well made pair of black leather boots from Germany, and they ran me $200. At the time I was upset that I had to drop most of my budget for the trip on a pair of boots, but that's the price you pay for being unprepared I guess.
These boots have become something very precious to me now though. Something much more than a pair of boots. I wore them almost every day for eight months straight, and I'm not just talking about eight months of normal use. In that eight months I was in 10 countries, I spent Christmas eve in a rock'n'roll bar in Prague, and New Years in the heart of Berlin. I saw the Eiffel Tower, the Duomo, and what remains of the Berlin Wall. I learned to say "Cheers!" in several new languages and saw places I had only seen in books before.
Some steps were harder than others, but every step I took in those boots took me somewhere very special. I've explored the streets of Moscow, and St Petersburg in the dead of night, I've crossed borders, and seen totally new worlds all while wearing these boots. After all this time, and all the work I've put them through, the soles are wearing out, the heels on both feet are practically gone, the leather doesn't shine like it used to, and there are little holes that let in water and get my socks wet, but they have so much life in them.
They took me every step of the way, literally, from a дурак who didn't even bother to bring boots with him to Russia, to who I am now. I certainly still feel like an idiot at times, but in my time abroad I have grown so much. I've had the opportunity to experience things most people only dream of. I've found that I'm strong enough to live in a foreign country, I'm able to talk with both my professors and my host, and I've come to understand a lot of things about myself that I never knew before.
All the things I've seen, all the places I've been, all the people I've met, and all the things I can't put into words, they've put a life into those boots that were not there when I walked out of the shop in them in St Petes. When I bought them, I was mad that I had to spend so much money on a pair of boots. Now I see that the problem wasn't foot ware, it was that I was naive enough to think I didn't need them before I got there. I was a fool, but I've been able to live through that, and learn from the pain and idiocy I subjected myself to.
When I landed in September, I didn't just arrive in Moscow, I arrived about as far outside of my comfort zone as is geographically possible. I've grown in that discomfort. I've woken up in some ways to the dumb things I tend to do, and I've come to embrace the things that are good about me, and that I never gave myself credit for.
Every step of my journey was taken in these boots, and they have come to represent the path I've walked in the last nine months from a kid who had spent the majority of his life in one place, living comfortable, to someone who has had the incredible opportunity to see a good chunk of Europe, and to live in a country that is about as foreign as foreign could have been for him. I walked down the path of discomfort, had an adventure, met people I will never forget, and grew to have a much greater understanding of myself, and how I view the world.
Every step of that journey was taken in these:
They're falling apart, but they only need to get me through one last trip. This Saturday, I'll be walking off the plane in Denver Colorado in these boots. It will be the eleventh country I wear them in, and I will finally be wearing them home.
There are two things I want to address in this post: the first new word I learned here, and the most valuable position I have acquired in my time abroad.
I'll start with a story first though.
When I arrived here in Moscow, I already had two years of university level Russian classes, and felt that despite the fact that I certainly wasn't fluent, I wouldn't have much trouble getting around with the level of Russian I was arriving with. I was very, very wrong. When I flew into the airport, it was already around 1 in the morning, I had been awake for over 24 hours, and probably would have struggled to function in English, and was failing miserable at trying to find my taxi driver. I ended up paying $10 to a stranger to call my cab driver and figure out where he was, and another $15 to the pre-paid cab driver for "parking fees" since I was late (I later found out these fees were made up). Saying that I could barely communicate with my host, or anyone else in Russian, would be an exaggeration, and I spent most of my time in class staring blankly at my professors hoping something would click eventually, and dreading the nightly dinner conversations with my host that always left me feeling exhausted.
After about of week of this, I finally plucked up enough courage to ask my host about where I could buy some boots, because I thought that buying them here in Russia would save me some room in my suitcase, and also ensure that I got something that could stand up to Russian winter. After spending far more time explaining what I needed than it should have taken my host finally looked at me and used a word I had heard once or twice already.
"Дурак"
(Dy - rak)
I asked her what it meant, but couldn't understand, so I looked it up in the dictionary that I had brought with me, and found that it meant "fool, or idiot."
I did my best not to take that personally, but I would be lying if I said it wasn't a bit of a shock to me. I've come to realize that my host is just honest, and she was absolutely right. Only an idiot would come to Russia without boots. It wasn't just the boots though, I didn't understand so many things when I first got here, and I didn't even realize the sheer scope of the things I had no experience with until I had been thrown headfirst into them. Getting scammed twice in an airport, getting into a yelling match to get a pack of gum, having to work as a terrible translator to help my friend explain why he wasn't interested in marrying a girl we had only met an hour early in a club, really the list could go on forever.
I ended up buying a pair of boots for myself when we were in St Petersburg so I could give back the boots another student had lent me for a few days. They were a well made pair of black leather boots from Germany, and they ran me $200. At the time I was upset that I had to drop most of my budget for the trip on a pair of boots, but that's the price you pay for being unprepared I guess.
These boots have become something very precious to me now though. Something much more than a pair of boots. I wore them almost every day for eight months straight, and I'm not just talking about eight months of normal use. In that eight months I was in 10 countries, I spent Christmas eve in a rock'n'roll bar in Prague, and New Years in the heart of Berlin. I saw the Eiffel Tower, the Duomo, and what remains of the Berlin Wall. I learned to say "Cheers!" in several new languages and saw places I had only seen in books before.
Some steps were harder than others, but every step I took in those boots took me somewhere very special. I've explored the streets of Moscow, and St Petersburg in the dead of night, I've crossed borders, and seen totally new worlds all while wearing these boots. After all this time, and all the work I've put them through, the soles are wearing out, the heels on both feet are practically gone, the leather doesn't shine like it used to, and there are little holes that let in water and get my socks wet, but they have so much life in them.
They took me every step of the way, literally, from a дурак who didn't even bother to bring boots with him to Russia, to who I am now. I certainly still feel like an idiot at times, but in my time abroad I have grown so much. I've had the opportunity to experience things most people only dream of. I've found that I'm strong enough to live in a foreign country, I'm able to talk with both my professors and my host, and I've come to understand a lot of things about myself that I never knew before.
All the things I've seen, all the places I've been, all the people I've met, and all the things I can't put into words, they've put a life into those boots that were not there when I walked out of the shop in them in St Petes. When I bought them, I was mad that I had to spend so much money on a pair of boots. Now I see that the problem wasn't foot ware, it was that I was naive enough to think I didn't need them before I got there. I was a fool, but I've been able to live through that, and learn from the pain and idiocy I subjected myself to.
When I landed in September, I didn't just arrive in Moscow, I arrived about as far outside of my comfort zone as is geographically possible. I've grown in that discomfort. I've woken up in some ways to the dumb things I tend to do, and I've come to embrace the things that are good about me, and that I never gave myself credit for.
Every step of my journey was taken in these boots, and they have come to represent the path I've walked in the last nine months from a kid who had spent the majority of his life in one place, living comfortable, to someone who has had the incredible opportunity to see a good chunk of Europe, and to live in a country that is about as foreign as foreign could have been for him. I walked down the path of discomfort, had an adventure, met people I will never forget, and grew to have a much greater understanding of myself, and how I view the world.
Every step of that journey was taken in these:
They're falling apart, but they only need to get me through one last trip. This Saturday, I'll be walking off the plane in Denver Colorado in these boots. It will be the eleventh country I wear them in, and I will finally be wearing them home.
You've done great, Tyler,
ReplyDeleteRussia has everyone, including its citizens, eat the cake with a dash of struggle, but that way the experience of life here has more flavor.
I'm sure you know you have so much more to see than your shoes have walked through.
Great blog.