Come fly with me
Last weekend, I visited a friend in another city to the north. It was great to get away and feel like a tourist in the country I'm living in. It makes things more bearable.
I liked it. It's smaller than here and...again, just nice to get away and visit a friend.
I had two days to wander around, visit the Alexander the Great section of a museum (his first wife was from the aforementioned city), stare at the beautiful blue-green river, capture possibly the world's largest statue of Lenin with my camera, read in the park, eat soft-serve ice cream (I have yet to see this in my city), attend the kick-boxing class that my friend teaches, and visit the market. Not the most adventurous or wildly eventful time, but it's exactly what I wanted--a quiet time of wandering and visiting my friend.
I've learned that being alone on adventures leaves a lot of room for Him to show his amazing strong, right hand.
One thing that is needed to know before entering any time of place where lines are needed is that...well, lines don't exist. Before I left for Russia, I was giving the phrase, "It's not wrong, just different." The airport is a perfect scene for this application.
At first, I went to the international section of the airport, since this was the only side I had been on. After questioning and being directed, I found the national flight part.
There doors were closed, and people were sitting and standing around, waiting for boarding to start. Never being entirely sure I find things correctly, I asked a girl sitting on the edge of a low window sill if this was the flight going to K_______.
I have learned that asking a question about...anything, generally opens up conversation. I think, namely, because I am a foreigner. Once I speak, my accent is apparent.
So, she invited me to sit down beside her, and she asked me things about America--am I married? Do I have a boyfriend? How old am I? Etc. The questions probably seem impertinent to American culture, but marriage is something that is very, very important to the women here. Not married by 27? There must be something very wrong with me. People are always shocked when I tell them the truth...I've been debating about lying about my age.
Exit tangent.
Originally, I was really, really looking forward to sitting quietly with Sense and Sensibility and maybe penning a story that had been revolving in my mind.
Instead, I ended up in conversation.
Finally, the doors opened, and the people shuffled, swarmed, squirmed--choose your descriptive adjective. Three rules to remember while waiting "in line":
1. Don't be frustrated when people cut in front of you
2. A space the size of a body is an opening for someone to move in. If you are unable to follow rule number one, keep breathing space to a minimal with the person in front of you.
3. Don't stand directly behind someone. The best position is slightly diagonal behind. You can get closer that way.
So as I was holding my ground, the only language I heard around me was the local language. I was able to catch some verbs here and there, but mainly...nothing. A foreigner among non-foreigners. It have an idea of how foreign exchange students feel when they enter American schools, or, rather, just any foreign family trying to assimilate.
THEN!*
Russian. From a girl. I caught her eye, but that was it.
How little importance we place on small events.
The flight was delayed for an hour (typical), and in the course of time, I met an Australian lady with her young daughter. She was disguised well. I seriously thought she was national. Also the girl who spoke Russian. Though she is from this country, she is from an area that is very different from the rest of the country. Her English is also impeccable. All three of us ended up sitting together on the plane, me with the Russian/local/English-speaking girl's young daughter on my lap (I HATE all this dancing around words! If only I can say names and locations....)
Anyway, so no Sense and Sensibility. But that was okay. I made friends. I even got a free ride to the hotel I was staying at but the Australian lady's family. Woot.
The hotel. Well, the hotel. I don't want to write a non-fiction narrative of everything, so I'll leave it to this: it was decent. The room was nice, mostly clean, way overpriced though, but I've heard that's normal. I also got unlimited Russian music videos to watch, which I did. I brought back words I'd forgotten. One thing that did bother me though, was the status of the bed. The bed itself was nice, it was the lack of top sheet under the comforter that bothered me. I slept under it the first night without checking things out, hoping that the comforter is washed after each use.
I was proven wrong the second night. While reading, on the bed, I noticed various spots on the blanket. I felt a little urge to bring up the food located in my stomach, when I then saw that the person before me had already done that.
I slept, wrapped in the bottom sheet. Ah well.
The weekend ended quickly, and it was time to take flight once again.
I had asked for the 5:00 flight so to be back. While waiting in line (this was an actual line BTW), I had a sinking feeling in my tummy that something was wrong. I have no idea why, but it was there.
It was time for the guard to take my ticket. He looked at it. He looked at it again. My stomach sank lower, accompanied by a feeling of dread.
When he took my ticket into the check-in room, well, I was sure something was wrong.
"This is for 19.00. The line is for the 17.00 one," he informed me, coming back with my ticket.
Blast.
Irritated at myself and cursing ( not really) my silly mistake, I sat down to wait.
THEN! *
I had the bright idea of...Why in the world should I wait?? Try to get on THIS flight! Understand, I'd probably never do this at home.
I asked the guard and said that we would see. I planted myself down near the line and waited.
The whole while, I pr.yed. I pr.yed. That whole weekend, I felt a fear of flying. I always get the little butterflies, but that's more from fear of being late and missing a flight. I've never actually worried about crashing before. Until then.
And while I waited, I wondered...what if one of these planes was to go down mid-flight? Which one was I supposed to be on?
Thoughts of a similar strain meandered through my mind as I waited.
And I came down to the thought: that whichever plane I got on, it was all in His control. Whether it crashed or didn't, it was in His command and control. I told Him that it was up to Him which flight I boarded. I would wait and see, but, ultimately, the plans were all His.
It' interesting because lately, I'd been struggling with getting back in the run with my faith. I seemed to be keeping myself so distracted and busy that I hadn't left room to think about the more important issue that is always underneath everything I do. I had pushed aside the One that keeps me moving, keeps alive, keeps me comforted; the One who sustains me.
Even more interestingly, in the hotel room the night before, I had essentially told Him that I wanted to try things on my own for a little bit. How much did I really need Him?
Obviously, a lot. A minor incident, a little fear, and I ran back to where I knew was safe, where I knew there was control, order, comfort, Truth, Peace, and hope. Where I knew that I could rest, fully aware that I cannot control my destiny, that I cannot shape the events around me to mold to my wants. Knowing that, really, on my own, I am quite helpless.
So while sitting and thinking these things while watching a Russia program about Olympic athletes (Plushenko needs a haircut), the guard motioned for me to board. Woot!
This is the part where being the only foreigner has its advantages. The lady who checked me in continued to call me by name and helped me out the entire way, up until I boarded.
On the way to the city, I had traveled in a packed Boeing, but on my return trip, I flew in a twin engine. I had heard about them and was hoping I would get to fly in one. It flies closer to the mountains than a Boeing. I took a picture and tried to take another when I was asked to not do that. I deleted the second one since that was the one I was caught with...but not that first. Was that deceitful?
On the flight, I sat next to an older businessman who liked to talk. I've learned a little bit about older men from flagging taxis in St. Petersburg and here--they like talk. Most of the time, my ear is spoken off. Again, with the typical questions, but then it's about family, the weather, things they know about English or the US, etc. I understand most of it, but not all of it. And it's okay because all they want is a listening ear. It was only in St. Petersburg after Obama's inauguration that I was asked actual in-depth questions that I needed to answer.
So, again, what I had hoped would be a nice time to read my book, I had conversation. Really. It was nice. I'll have that book with me for awhile. That man is somewhere else right now.
And I think that is what I have learned the most about living overseas is about...and what I keep failing at--flexibility. Making plans but being willing to change them when the landlady motions for you to come over for tea and a chat. Who cares that I'm carrying groceries, including a frozen chicken in my hands, am exhausted and need to leave for salsa class in a couple of hours.
I failed that lesson. I took a nap instead.
I'm still learning the lesson here. I think I got it pretty down in St. Petersburg by the end, but it took while to get there. I hate it that I'm starting with baby steps once again. Goodness, I've already experienced overseas living for 2 years already...I must learn these things AGAIN?!
Obviously, the plane didn't crash. I caught a taxi and made it home...at the same time I would have been boarding my flight if I hadn't been admitted for the 17.00 one.
Even though I have plenty of markets in my own city to visit, while at the market in the other city, I still bought a........
..........yes.........
........a scarf.
Someday, I think I shall set up a museum of scarves from around the world. Or at least do something with them to share in their beauty and femininity. I still need to get one from England. I can remedy that quickly this June when I fly through there. :)
--------------------------------------------
* This signifies a change in situation and mindset.
I liked it. It's smaller than here and...again, just nice to get away and visit a friend.
I had two days to wander around, visit the Alexander the Great section of a museum (his first wife was from the aforementioned city), stare at the beautiful blue-green river, capture possibly the world's largest statue of Lenin with my camera, read in the park, eat soft-serve ice cream (I have yet to see this in my city), attend the kick-boxing class that my friend teaches, and visit the market. Not the most adventurous or wildly eventful time, but it's exactly what I wanted--a quiet time of wandering and visiting my friend.
I've learned that being alone on adventures leaves a lot of room for Him to show his amazing strong, right hand.
One thing that is needed to know before entering any time of place where lines are needed is that...well, lines don't exist. Before I left for Russia, I was giving the phrase, "It's not wrong, just different." The airport is a perfect scene for this application.
At first, I went to the international section of the airport, since this was the only side I had been on. After questioning and being directed, I found the national flight part.
There doors were closed, and people were sitting and standing around, waiting for boarding to start. Never being entirely sure I find things correctly, I asked a girl sitting on the edge of a low window sill if this was the flight going to K_______.
I have learned that asking a question about...anything, generally opens up conversation. I think, namely, because I am a foreigner. Once I speak, my accent is apparent.
So, she invited me to sit down beside her, and she asked me things about America--am I married? Do I have a boyfriend? How old am I? Etc. The questions probably seem impertinent to American culture, but marriage is something that is very, very important to the women here. Not married by 27? There must be something very wrong with me. People are always shocked when I tell them the truth...I've been debating about lying about my age.
Exit tangent.
Originally, I was really, really looking forward to sitting quietly with Sense and Sensibility and maybe penning a story that had been revolving in my mind.
Instead, I ended up in conversation.
Finally, the doors opened, and the people shuffled, swarmed, squirmed--choose your descriptive adjective. Three rules to remember while waiting "in line":
1. Don't be frustrated when people cut in front of you
2. A space the size of a body is an opening for someone to move in. If you are unable to follow rule number one, keep breathing space to a minimal with the person in front of you.
3. Don't stand directly behind someone. The best position is slightly diagonal behind. You can get closer that way.
So as I was holding my ground, the only language I heard around me was the local language. I was able to catch some verbs here and there, but mainly...nothing. A foreigner among non-foreigners. It have an idea of how foreign exchange students feel when they enter American schools, or, rather, just any foreign family trying to assimilate.
THEN!*
Russian. From a girl. I caught her eye, but that was it.
How little importance we place on small events.
The flight was delayed for an hour (typical), and in the course of time, I met an Australian lady with her young daughter. She was disguised well. I seriously thought she was national. Also the girl who spoke Russian. Though she is from this country, she is from an area that is very different from the rest of the country. Her English is also impeccable. All three of us ended up sitting together on the plane, me with the Russian/local/English-speaking girl's young daughter on my lap (I HATE all this dancing around words! If only I can say names and locations....)
Anyway, so no Sense and Sensibility. But that was okay. I made friends. I even got a free ride to the hotel I was staying at but the Australian lady's family. Woot.
The hotel. Well, the hotel. I don't want to write a non-fiction narrative of everything, so I'll leave it to this: it was decent. The room was nice, mostly clean, way overpriced though, but I've heard that's normal. I also got unlimited Russian music videos to watch, which I did. I brought back words I'd forgotten. One thing that did bother me though, was the status of the bed. The bed itself was nice, it was the lack of top sheet under the comforter that bothered me. I slept under it the first night without checking things out, hoping that the comforter is washed after each use.
I was proven wrong the second night. While reading, on the bed, I noticed various spots on the blanket. I felt a little urge to bring up the food located in my stomach, when I then saw that the person before me had already done that.
I slept, wrapped in the bottom sheet. Ah well.
The weekend ended quickly, and it was time to take flight once again.
I had asked for the 5:00 flight so to be back. While waiting in line (this was an actual line BTW), I had a sinking feeling in my tummy that something was wrong. I have no idea why, but it was there.
It was time for the guard to take my ticket. He looked at it. He looked at it again. My stomach sank lower, accompanied by a feeling of dread.
When he took my ticket into the check-in room, well, I was sure something was wrong.
"This is for 19.00. The line is for the 17.00 one," he informed me, coming back with my ticket.
Blast.
Irritated at myself and cursing ( not really) my silly mistake, I sat down to wait.
THEN! *
I had the bright idea of...Why in the world should I wait?? Try to get on THIS flight! Understand, I'd probably never do this at home.
I asked the guard and said that we would see. I planted myself down near the line and waited.
The whole while, I pr.yed. I pr.yed. That whole weekend, I felt a fear of flying. I always get the little butterflies, but that's more from fear of being late and missing a flight. I've never actually worried about crashing before. Until then.
And while I waited, I wondered...what if one of these planes was to go down mid-flight? Which one was I supposed to be on?
Thoughts of a similar strain meandered through my mind as I waited.
And I came down to the thought: that whichever plane I got on, it was all in His control. Whether it crashed or didn't, it was in His command and control. I told Him that it was up to Him which flight I boarded. I would wait and see, but, ultimately, the plans were all His.
It' interesting because lately, I'd been struggling with getting back in the run with my faith. I seemed to be keeping myself so distracted and busy that I hadn't left room to think about the more important issue that is always underneath everything I do. I had pushed aside the One that keeps me moving, keeps alive, keeps me comforted; the One who sustains me.
Even more interestingly, in the hotel room the night before, I had essentially told Him that I wanted to try things on my own for a little bit. How much did I really need Him?
Obviously, a lot. A minor incident, a little fear, and I ran back to where I knew was safe, where I knew there was control, order, comfort, Truth, Peace, and hope. Where I knew that I could rest, fully aware that I cannot control my destiny, that I cannot shape the events around me to mold to my wants. Knowing that, really, on my own, I am quite helpless.
So while sitting and thinking these things while watching a Russia program about Olympic athletes (Plushenko needs a haircut), the guard motioned for me to board. Woot!
This is the part where being the only foreigner has its advantages. The lady who checked me in continued to call me by name and helped me out the entire way, up until I boarded.
On the way to the city, I had traveled in a packed Boeing, but on my return trip, I flew in a twin engine. I had heard about them and was hoping I would get to fly in one. It flies closer to the mountains than a Boeing. I took a picture and tried to take another when I was asked to not do that. I deleted the second one since that was the one I was caught with...but not that first. Was that deceitful?
On the flight, I sat next to an older businessman who liked to talk. I've learned a little bit about older men from flagging taxis in St. Petersburg and here--they like talk. Most of the time, my ear is spoken off. Again, with the typical questions, but then it's about family, the weather, things they know about English or the US, etc. I understand most of it, but not all of it. And it's okay because all they want is a listening ear. It was only in St. Petersburg after Obama's inauguration that I was asked actual in-depth questions that I needed to answer.
So, again, what I had hoped would be a nice time to read my book, I had conversation. Really. It was nice. I'll have that book with me for awhile. That man is somewhere else right now.
And I think that is what I have learned the most about living overseas is about...and what I keep failing at--flexibility. Making plans but being willing to change them when the landlady motions for you to come over for tea and a chat. Who cares that I'm carrying groceries, including a frozen chicken in my hands, am exhausted and need to leave for salsa class in a couple of hours.
I failed that lesson. I took a nap instead.
I'm still learning the lesson here. I think I got it pretty down in St. Petersburg by the end, but it took while to get there. I hate it that I'm starting with baby steps once again. Goodness, I've already experienced overseas living for 2 years already...I must learn these things AGAIN?!
Obviously, the plane didn't crash. I caught a taxi and made it home...at the same time I would have been boarding my flight if I hadn't been admitted for the 17.00 one.
Even though I have plenty of markets in my own city to visit, while at the market in the other city, I still bought a........
..........yes.........
........a scarf.
Someday, I think I shall set up a museum of scarves from around the world. Or at least do something with them to share in their beauty and femininity. I still need to get one from England. I can remedy that quickly this June when I fly through there. :)
--------------------------------------------
* This signifies a change in situation and mindset.