I decided to spend my last two weeks in Russia in our families dacha. In case you aren't aware, a dacha is a small house in a Russian village where Russians go to live on the weekends and during the summer.
Someone told me, before leaving, that coming to Russia would be like walking into 1960. Before coming to the dacha for the first time, I thought she was crazy. Now I see the reason. When you walk down one of the 4 streets (yes, 4) in our village, it is hard to tell what time period you're in. If it weren't for the television satelites sticking out of a few of the houses it could totally be sixty years ago. The wooden houeses, kids playing in the street, old babushkas (grandmothers) sitting on their little benches and gossiping about the lives of the people they see walk by.
The gossiping babushkas drive my host sister Yulya crazy. I can't blame her, seeing as according to their gossip, Yulya has been pregnant about three or four times and is currently planning to elope. Fortunately, the latest gossip has switched away from my sister, and onto the newest addition to our small village.
The american.
Peoples reactions when they see me are really funny. The little kids don't understand what it means to be from another country, and ask why I speak strangely. An old woman thought I was lying to her, and actually got pretty angry. My favorite reaction of all though, is a friend of my sisters, who upon seeing me, asks my sister "Is this her? A real american! Can I touch her?!"
Long story short, my last few weeks in Russia are good ones. My days are filled with working in the garden, swimming in the lake, and washing in the banya. My nights with cooking over bonfires, volleyball, and sunlight even at 11 o'clock.
When I arrived in Russia, the sun rose at 9:30, and set at 4:00. Now, as I'm getting ready to leave, it rises begins to get light at about 3 in the morning, and doesn't get dark again until a bit after 11. The drastic difference in the length of my days is cool to observe. It is something we totally don't have in the US.
Summer in the village.
Someone told me, before leaving, that coming to Russia would be like walking into 1960. Before coming to the dacha for the first time, I thought she was crazy. Now I see the reason. When you walk down one of the 4 streets (yes, 4) in our village, it is hard to tell what time period you're in. If it weren't for the television satelites sticking out of a few of the houses it could totally be sixty years ago. The wooden houeses, kids playing in the street, old babushkas (grandmothers) sitting on their little benches and gossiping about the lives of the people they see walk by.
The gossiping babushkas drive my host sister Yulya crazy. I can't blame her, seeing as according to their gossip, Yulya has been pregnant about three or four times and is currently planning to elope. Fortunately, the latest gossip has switched away from my sister, and onto the newest addition to our small village.
The american.
Peoples reactions when they see me are really funny. The little kids don't understand what it means to be from another country, and ask why I speak strangely. An old woman thought I was lying to her, and actually got pretty angry. My favorite reaction of all though, is a friend of my sisters, who upon seeing me, asks my sister "Is this her? A real american! Can I touch her?!"
Long story short, my last few weeks in Russia are good ones. My days are filled with working in the garden, swimming in the lake, and washing in the banya. My nights with cooking over bonfires, volleyball, and sunlight even at 11 o'clock.
When I arrived in Russia, the sun rose at 9:30, and set at 4:00. Now, as I'm getting ready to leave, it rises begins to get light at about 3 in the morning, and doesn't get dark again until a bit after 11. The drastic difference in the length of my days is cool to observe. It is something we totally don't have in the US.
Friends, fire in the wilderness, this is the way summer should be.
Probably the most awesome cup of tea I've had in all my time in Russia. Everything is from our garden.
РАДУГА!!! (I think its not hard to guess what that means)
Uh oh, can't cross the road right now. Too many cows.
Надеюсь, в общем и целом, у тебя остались самые положительные впечатления от нашей страны, хоть ты и писала, что жить здесь тяжело:)
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