The time had come. Five months after receiving notification about the Fulbright and four months after finding out that I was going to be teaching in Kyzyl, I was standing in Moscow's Sheremetyevo airport, awaiting my flight to Krasnoyarsk, the midway point to Kyzyl. The emotions that hit me while I was waiting for my flights to Russia all came rushing back: excitement, worry, sadness, expectation, and all the ones in between. Flights all across Russia were being announced, including ones to St. Petersburg. To say I didn't think about running to they gates for those flights would be to lie. I was embarking on a journey to a place unknown and completely different from anywhere I had been before. In St. Petersburg, I knew people, felt attached to people and to places. I didn't want to leave that behind, but we don't grow by staying in one place. We need to move, either mentally or physically and stretch our legs and mind. I was about to do both.
But in any case, I was panicking a bit. Ok, maybe a lot bit. I was seriously going into homesick mode, for St. Petersburg. Slowly, but surely the minutes and then hours ticked by and the gate was posted for my flight. I headed to the waiting area and soon enough, the announcement came to start boarding. Here goes nothing.
It was a full flight for a 12:40 AM trip to Krasnoyarsk. We left the ground and Moscow lay below us, burning brightly in the night. It was an amazing sight to say the least. More than anything else, seeing the lights at night makes you understand how big the city actually is. I caught my last glimpse of European Russia before our plane slid through the clouds. It was at this time that I realized that I wasn't going to get much sleep. We left Moscow around 1:00 AM and we getting into Krasnoyarsk at around 9:00 AM (according to the schedule, but probably later). The flight was only going to last four hours, so that's the amount of sleep I was going to get if I could even fall asleep. I didn't fall asleep right away of course, also they came around offering us drinks and a light meal. It was delicious, but also a bit strange for a 1 AM flight. No complaints though from my end. I then shut my eyes and did my best to calm my thoughts for at least a bit of rest. Sleep came and went and before I knew it, the sun was shining brightly into my eyes. Of course, we were heading straight for it (going east I mean). The captain announced that we were making our descent and that's when I saw this:
The last time I was in Siberia, it was covered in snow. This was during my trip on the Trans-Siberian railway. After that trip, I swore I would live in Siberia. St. Petersburg worked its magic though (staying there longer and seeing the summer won me over) and now I don't have the same desires as before, but seeing the Siberian landscape spreading out to the horizon awoke in me once again all the feelings I had during that trip. Siberia is mighty and I uttered to myself as we landed, "Ok ok, it is beautiful." It was good to be back out here and the mix of emotions I had felt in Moscow started to recede a bit and I focused my mind on the task of getting into the center of Krasnoyarsk and deciding what I was going to do for the day. I met up with my host who I stayed with during my last tenure in the city. I was planning on just holding up in a cafe for most of the day, but she recommended a spot outside the city. I decided "why not?" I put on my adventure hat and set off on a bus. The place I ended up going to a "Funpark" called "Beaver Ravine". It's a ski/outdoor adventure base. I rode the ski lift up to the top and beheld Krasnoyarsk from above. That was one side of the mountain, on the other side was something like this:
Nature has a wonderful way of yanking away from me the gift of speech. I can only stop and stare at the majesty of it all. It's a world so beautiful and more or less untouched by us. That in and of itself is an awesome thought to ponder.
What struck me then as I gazed at the awesomeness of the mountains was a sense of calming minuteness. The fresh wind carried away all my fears momentarily and I was reminded right then and there that there is little need to worry about what the future will bring in Kyzyl. The year will be great, the work rewarding, and the connections made unforgettable.
In my opinion, Siberia teaches a person how to live. William Wallace (well, at least Mel Gibson's William Wallace in Braveheart) says that "Ever man (person) dies, but not every man (person) really lives." Travelling across Siberia two years ago changed me perspective on my time in Russia. It was cold and there were moments when I felt rather alone and lost. I got into situations and had no idea how I was going to get out of them. In the end though, I survived and everything turned out great and I returned with a perspective of having to cherish every moment even stronger than the last.
I learned that the harshest and coldest of climates can also be a time for love and fun. The warmest of hearts can warm any person faster than a cup of tea. Looking out into the mountains, I remember all of that and felt reassured that I was where I needed to be for the time being. I don't think I'll stay "out here" forever, but I need to stretch my mind and body further away from what I know.
Without sounding too romantic, I "descended from the mountain" on the ski lift and with renewed purpose, returned to the city, ate some KFC (not my proudest moment), and set off for the bus station.
16 hours lay before me until arriving in Kyzyl.
Let's go.
But in any case, I was panicking a bit. Ok, maybe a lot bit. I was seriously going into homesick mode, for St. Petersburg. Slowly, but surely the minutes and then hours ticked by and the gate was posted for my flight. I headed to the waiting area and soon enough, the announcement came to start boarding. Here goes nothing.
It was a full flight for a 12:40 AM trip to Krasnoyarsk. We left the ground and Moscow lay below us, burning brightly in the night. It was an amazing sight to say the least. More than anything else, seeing the lights at night makes you understand how big the city actually is. I caught my last glimpse of European Russia before our plane slid through the clouds. It was at this time that I realized that I wasn't going to get much sleep. We left Moscow around 1:00 AM and we getting into Krasnoyarsk at around 9:00 AM (according to the schedule, but probably later). The flight was only going to last four hours, so that's the amount of sleep I was going to get if I could even fall asleep. I didn't fall asleep right away of course, also they came around offering us drinks and a light meal. It was delicious, but also a bit strange for a 1 AM flight. No complaints though from my end. I then shut my eyes and did my best to calm my thoughts for at least a bit of rest. Sleep came and went and before I knew it, the sun was shining brightly into my eyes. Of course, we were heading straight for it (going east I mean). The captain announced that we were making our descent and that's when I saw this:
The last time I was in Siberia, it was covered in snow. This was during my trip on the Trans-Siberian railway. After that trip, I swore I would live in Siberia. St. Petersburg worked its magic though (staying there longer and seeing the summer won me over) and now I don't have the same desires as before, but seeing the Siberian landscape spreading out to the horizon awoke in me once again all the feelings I had during that trip. Siberia is mighty and I uttered to myself as we landed, "Ok ok, it is beautiful." It was good to be back out here and the mix of emotions I had felt in Moscow started to recede a bit and I focused my mind on the task of getting into the center of Krasnoyarsk and deciding what I was going to do for the day. I met up with my host who I stayed with during my last tenure in the city. I was planning on just holding up in a cafe for most of the day, but she recommended a spot outside the city. I decided "why not?" I put on my adventure hat and set off on a bus. The place I ended up going to a "Funpark" called "Beaver Ravine". It's a ski/outdoor adventure base. I rode the ski lift up to the top and beheld Krasnoyarsk from above. That was one side of the mountain, on the other side was something like this:
What struck me then as I gazed at the awesomeness of the mountains was a sense of calming minuteness. The fresh wind carried away all my fears momentarily and I was reminded right then and there that there is little need to worry about what the future will bring in Kyzyl. The year will be great, the work rewarding, and the connections made unforgettable.
Without sounding too romantic, I "descended from the mountain" on the ski lift and with renewed purpose, returned to the city, ate some KFC (not my proudest moment), and set off for the bus station.
16 hours lay before me until arriving in Kyzyl.
Let's go.
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