Week 19 in Russia: Saying Goodbye to Siberia

As I wrote this, I was looking out my airplane window onto the great Russian landscape. I saw my last bit of snow on the caps of mountains from my flight from Irkutsk to Moscow. I can't believe that my five months in Russia have come to an end. It flew, just as I will fly from Moscow to Chicago.

My last week in Irkutsk began last Sunday with "City Day"--a holiday celebrating the city of Irkutsk. I had been working on my 15 page paper, but took a break in the evening to hear a jazz concert on the banks of the Angara. An African American jazz singer performed--and I'm pretty sure I'm the only one who understood her as she chatted and sang in English. I almost wanted to shout "GO USA!" or something equivalent in solidarity to another American in Irkutsk, but I held it back. Instead, Sasha and I went for a walk and took stupid pictures with a Dima Bilan perfume advertisement.

This is a gift for Hannah.

I finished my paper on Monday and turned it in Tuesday morning. The rest of the day Tuesday, Sasha and I went to Listvianka for a picnic and my farewell to Baikal. In celebration, I even ate Omyl', the traditional fish to eat from Baikal. This video is from that beautiful last day on Baikal:

Wednesday and Thursday I ran around running errands: buying souvenirs, gathering documents from the university, and packing. On Thursday, I went to the international office to fax my transcript to Wesleyan. While I was waiting, I chatted with the women who work in the office. One of them paused, looked up at me and said, "If I didn't already know that you were a foreigner, I would have thought that you were Russian." She conferred with her colleague and they agreed that my accent was barely audible. It was a great compliment for me, leaving that office for the last time.

Thursday night was my last GBT club meeting, so I made banana chocolate-chip muffins for the last time. Katya and Sasha came over to help. Out meeting went as per usual, but right before we concluded, Natasha announced my departure and I was gifted with a bunch of balloons, a cook's apron and oven mitt, Baikal souvenirs, and a map of GBT's trails on Lake Baikal. I was near to tears, but held it back as we took pictures together. Sasha picked us up, took Katya home, and then we watched half of Slumdog Millionaire with curried popcorn.

With Katya

On Friday, I ran my last errands, taking pictures and buying final souvenirs. I met Sasha on the banks of the Angara for our last walk, and then we went to the grocery store to buy Russian candy and beer. I was almost out of rubles, but with my last 50 rubles, we stopped at a vegetable stand to get something for dinner. I ended up getting a carrot, 2 potatoes, 3 tomatoes, and 2 cucumbers for the equivalent of about $1.20, and then we went home to make paella, tortilla espanola, tomato-cucumber salad, and sauteed mushrooms with the remaining ingredients that I had. I started to get gloomy about leaving after emptying my fridge and cooking my last dinner, and was in light tears on my balcony, when I realized that I had 50 rubles left that I didn't notice earlier. I asked Sasha if he wanted ice cream, so we scurried off to the store to get some with my last 50 rubles. We bought two with 9 rubles to spare, and went to the children's playground to swing. We ate ice cream, swung on a two-person swing (not sure what they're called, but you face each other, sitting, kind a like on a bench), and then raced back to the store like little kids. I felt so much better and didn't want to cry anymore. After that, Sasha went home and I called my friend Yulya to say goodbye. We walked for almost an hour, and then I went to our going away party on the fifth floor. I said my goodbyes and went to bed.

In the morning, Sasha came to take me to the airport. There, my friends from GBT met me to send me off. I was happy to see them again, and really had to keep from crying when I separated from them to go through security. I just read a letter from Katya, telling me that I had become like a sister to her, and she's right. I feel like I have more than just a second-cousin in Siberia. I have an entire extended family. I promised them all that I would see them again, and I feel better about leaving when I have the strong intention of returning firmly planted in my mind. A part of me is there, a piece of my heart, and I know I will return. I felt very loved getting on that plane, and I know that open arms await me when I return. Thank you for everything. I promise I'll be back.