Time Passes

And so time passed. January became February and February became March. My days were spent going over to Zoya's for the afternoons and spending the rest of the day surviving: pumping water, dumping water, cooking, cleaning, loading the stove, you know. I grew to be better and better friends with Zoya and her family. Once people learned that we were connected with them, they breathed a sigh of relief. They were a well liked and respected family and people finally felt like they could call us their own. Most of the store owners now knew me and we would chat when I would stop in. Most remarked that they couldn't believe I was speaking their language and when they found out I was foreign, it was the greatest thing since sliced bread, although they don't have sliced bread. We began teaching English at a nearby village and everyone loved that. They felt like we had a legitimate job and were doing something worthwhile for the community.
But we were not without issues. We had the police, more like the FBI, following us everywhere. They visited our neighbors, the school we were working at, some of the shop owners asking about us. Why were we here? What did we say we were doing? The funniest question was to one of our neighbors: "We have seen them climbing that hill over there. Why are they climbing that hill?" Our neighbor responded that she had no idea and maybe they should ask us. We were using the hill for hiking and exercise purposes but I guess they thought we were spying on something...although there is nothing but the village for miles. We even got visited personally by the police. I forced them to find a translator from Russian to the local language. They thought that was SO weird and were slightly insulted (most police are Russian, not minorities). I guess we checked out because they never showed up again.
We continued having the owner's dad show up once a month, on average, to kick us out. We actually spent long hours cultivating relationships with the owner, her fiancee, and her sister and husband. They were the owners of the house and we didn't have a contract so we wanted to make sure that this place was ours. And we just loved hanging out with them. So, we would mention that their dad wanted us out again and they would roll their eyes assuring us that they didn't want the house and their dad was definitely not going to get it. But it was always stressful arguing with him. We soon learned that he was drunk almost daily now and his wife was kicking him out of the house and he needed a place to live. Of course A, the owner, and her sister, S, were livid. He would completely junk the place and have free reign to drink and they didn't want that in their house.
I was pulled into the village administration building (every single village has one. It's the base the police use to know what's going on everywhere) one day. The head lady was furious with me. Why hadn't I come by and declared we were living there? The regional police had come by demanding to know why there were Americans living in this village and she had no idea. I apologized over and over. When she was done scolding (as they love to do), she smiled, laughed that I only spoke the minority language and told me to come tomorrow with all my paperwork. I did and gave her the copies of the humanitarian aid organization we were partnering with and she felt like that would keep the police happy. We were the best of friends then.
In general, life was good.

The Lord looks down and life looks up

After New Years, life quieted down again with one small change that made all the difference. I had mentioned that I had been praying for a language helper. One day, our dog (or a dog we helped feed) began barking, signaling that someone was in our yard. I went out and saw an older lady standing outside my gate. I walked out and greeted her. She told me that she had made several things, that they were made very well, that she had gone to school to learn to sew and that I should come over and look at them and buy something. Well, who could say no to that! We took off immediately for her house. When we arrived, she put on tea and we drank and ate, as is custom, and then looked at the beautiful things she had made. There was a rug made out of 8 goats skins. Boots, just my size, made out of deer legs and hats made of out fox. I was delighted. I told her that I would return with my husband tomorrow and we would discuss it. As I was leaving, I turned to her and asked if she knew anyone who had an hour a day to help me with language. Her house was quiet. She told me her two daughters were both away during the year at college. Her husband spent the week at the farm taking care of the animals and she lived alone. She smiled at me and said she could teach me. I was thrilled although skeptical as to whether it would really work out.
Curt and I returned the next day and bought those boots that only very, very traditional people wear. From then on with those boots and my traditional hat, I was always asked, "Are you Ragu (code name for the people group we worked among) or Russian?" Do I have a third choice?
And again, I asked this woman, Zoya, about language lessons. She said she didn't know anything about teaching but I could come everyday and she and I would talk together. And she wasn't kidding. I called everyday before I went, she was always free and would rarely let me leave earlier than 2 hours together. She was insistent that I take her tapes, books, magazines and read and listen to Ragu constantly. She took me to the school library and helped me pick out books on a kindergarden level to begin reading. She collected magazines for friends so that I could look at pictures with Ragu descriptions. She was appalled when I said I would be taking Sundays off. She became my closest friend and the one thing I miss the most about our village.

New Years

Life began to settle down. We began to study language more seriously. December was a bit rough. A neighbor had said that she would meet with me everyday to study together. She didn't work and in the winter, there's not much to do. So, it seemed really possible. But days would pass where she wouldn't answer my phone calls. There's only so much talking you can do in the local shop when you don't speak very much. We didn't really want to get involved with A's dad's family and only knew one other family in town, whom I visited once a week. Days started to drag into weeks as we struggled to learn from the one small dictionary we had.
We prayed. "Lord, I don't know how to meet other people. You can't just walk up to people's doors. But I have no one to study with and language will not just come to me!".
Christmas arrived and with it a few boxes from home. I planned a special meal and we planned to spend the day inside, opening a few things from the boxes at a time and watching movies. However, the people we knew found out that it was a special holiday for us in America and, not wanting us to be alone, came over. For most of the day, we had guests. The special meal got split up, the gifts were opened with others around and shared (or stared at) and finally the house was quiet by 9. Alas...
But then the New Year rolled around and after months of feeling like no one cared whether we were around or not, life shifted. We were invited to 3 families' homes for New Years. New Years is the biggest holiday in Russia and is usually celebrated by a very special meal at midnight. Everyone spends the whole week preparing. They wash all their clothes and bedding, things that don't get washed the rest of the year! Rugs get put outside, homes get scoured and eventually a meal fit for a king is laid out. And they will eat off this meal for the rest of the week. Usually, only family will gather together for the celebration, they will watch "the ball drop" on tv (which is usually just some party in Moscow, even though Moscow is 3 hours ahead of us) and eat. Our neighbor, A's dad's family and A's aunt all invited us over that night. We were thrilled.
At 9, we went off to the "club" where everyone gathers, which is basically just a big room. There's usually someone from the village who volunteers to dj and no one dances but everyone just sits around and talks. There's no heat so it's awfully cold. It was so awkward as all the drunk people kept coming up to us wanting to talk and A's dad was drunk and kept telling us to get up and dance. We left at 10.
So, off we went to the neighbor at 11 and we ate a little early because she knew we had to be somewhere else. At 12:30 we went off to A's aunt's house, where everyone was already drunk but ate and talked with them. At 2, we headed off to A's dad's family's house where we assumed they were all already asleep so we headed home. Turns out they were waiting for us to come over until about 4. We felt horrible and spent much of the next day with them. But we had our fill of good food and what we were starting to consider friends!

The Winter Passed On...

Life began to settle down. We began to study language more seriously. December was a bit rough. A neighbor had said that she would meet with me everyday to study together. She didn't work and in the winter, there's not much to do. So, it seemed really possible. But days would pass where she wouldn't answer my phone calls. There's only so much talking you can do in the local shop when you don't speak very much. We didn't really want to get involved with A's dad's family and only knew one other family in town, whom I visited once a week. Days started to drag into weeks as we struggled to learn from the one small dictionary we had.
We prayed. "Lord, I don't know how to meet other people. You can't just walk up to people's doors. But I have no one to study with and language will not just come to me!".
Christmas arrived and with it a few boxes from home. I planned a special meal and we planned to spend the day inside, opening a few things from the boxes at a time and watching movies. However, the people we knew found out that it was a special holiday for us in America and, not wanting us to be alone, came over. For most of the day, we had guests. The special meal got split up, the gifts were opened with others around and shared (or stared at) and finally the house was quiet by 9. Alas...
But then the New Year rolled around and after months of feeling like no one cared whether we were around or not, life shifted. We were invited to 3 families' homes for New Years. New Years is the biggest holiday in Russia and is usually celebrated by a very special meal at midnight. Everyone spends the whole week preparing. They wash all their clothes and bedding, things that don't get washed the rest of the year! Rugs get put outside, homes get scoured and eventually a meal fit for a king is laid out. And they will eat off this meal for the rest of the week. Usually, only family will gather together for the celebration, they will watch "the ball drop" on tv (which is usually just some party in Moscow, even though Moscow is 3 hours ahead of us) and eat. Our neighbor, A's dad's family and A's aunt all invited us over that night. We were thrilled.
At 9, we went off to the "club" where everyone gathers, which is basically just a big room. There's usually someone from the village who volunteers to dj and no one dances but everyone just sits around and talks. There's no heat so it's awfully cold. It was so awkward as all the drunk people kept coming up to us wanting to talk and A's dad was drunk and kept telling us to get up and dance. We left at 10.
So, off we went to the neighbor at 11 and we ate a little early because she knew we had to be somewhere else. At 12:30 we went off to A's aunt's house, where everyone was already drunk but ate and talked with them. At 2, we headed off to A's dad's family's house where we assumed they were all already asleep so we headed home. Turns out they were waiting for us to come over until about 4. We felt horrible and spent much of the next day with them. But we had our fill of good food and what we were starting to consider friends!