On the (Rail)Road Again.

A final note from the “Pocket of Russia,” at the confluence of the Volga and Oka rivers, on a smoggy, gray day in mid April:

I’ve finished my exams, written my papers, and packed most of my things. Sunday evening we will board a sleeper train to St. Petersburg and in anticipation I have begun reading Crime and Punishment again.

I received a five on my language exam, which is the Russian equivalent of an A but I will not receive my grade for the other courses until I’m home. I took my last test in my tie dyed onesie yesterday and relished the shocked looks from pedestrians, bus-riders, and students as I skipped along. I went for a little walk across campus after I’d finished and was startled to see my old stomping grounds without piles of snow.  Apparently there are benches and rocks and all sorts of things I had not seen before. In an act of deliberate defiance, I set out to walk on the sidewalk rather than cut across through the trees where we used to always walk. This is significant because almost all of the Russians I know would use the sidewalk and the Americans, preferring a more direct route, would use the path through the trees, even if we sunk into snow up to our thighs. Shameless. I must mention here that it was really hard for me and I kept looking longingly at the path, even though it probably only takes a few minutes more on the sidewalk.

Anyway, I passed by the old dorm and sketchy little banya next to a soccer field and looked out at the now completely melted Oka. On my way back I noticed a few shy blades of grass (or weeds, most likely) pushing up through the dirt and litter and I got all sentimental thinking about spring and not being able to see a green Nizhni.

Ah, but I am ready to leave. As I was reading in bed this morning, Josh Ritter started playing on my laptop and I suddenly missed the rolling hills of the Palouse, the dusty ponderosa pines and swaying cedar trees, and that frosty little pocket on West Hatter Creek Road. I imagined Mom and Dad in the garden with Roxy and Diego and I longed to leave this polluted city with its ugly square apartment buildings and smokestacks, its parks full of stark birch trees and communist monuments, and dilapidated wooden buildings filled with litter. But, I will miss it…

When I return to the US and eventually Idaho—fatter, paler, and altogether richer for the experience—I want to take to the woods. I relish the thought of a health food diet supplemented by good books and clean air. I refuse, however, to make any serious decisions as to the continuing of my education or future employment for at least a few weeks or a month.

Also, I’m looking forward to St. Petersburg. Nearly every Russian I’ve met has said that it is the most beautiful city in Russia and I can’t wait to see Dostoyevsky’s old stomping grounds, the statue that inspired Pushkin’s Bronze Horseman, the Neva river, the Winter Palace, etc. I'll add some pictures there.