over the weekend (imagine how fast we can travel: blink an eye and everything changes) i sat on a bench in fell's point.
i sipped a lemonade, i watched the water riff and pull in the harbor, i laughed while henry smeared milk across his face, i melted into the blue expanse of sky and the yells of drunk graduates and the soft plucks of a twelve string guitar. i wasn't anywhere except inside myself when the woman next to me tugged on my arm. embarrassed, she handed me a tissue and asked me to wipe the white glob of pigeon dropping from her hair. i pulled at it over and over while we talked ... her accent tangled something inside of me.
she said she was from new york.
but i said, no, before that.
russia, she said.
my breath caught. where in russia? i asked.
southern russia, she said.
i must have laughed: the smallness of the world frightening me. which city? i asked.
she looked at me. a small city, she said, you wouldn't know.
which city? i asked again.
krasnodar, she said.
and i fell into laughter that reminded me of tears. the world shrinking us together.
[for a history of me and krasnodar: look here. i lived there. and loved people there. and lost myself there. and found myself. and ate lots and lots of magnum bars.]
2 comments:
I printed your thesis and Jeremy and I are so excited to read it! Thank you for sharing a part of your life with us. We are still dying to have your family over for dinner sometime. We'll call you soon... I love reading your blog. You make me want to take a creative writing class or something! It is so fun to read.
The world really IS so small! Every time I hear someone speaking Polish in a store (which happens maybe once a year) I slyly follow them around just to drink it in. But I have yet to meet anyone from a city I lived in on my mission. You're so lucky you were able to! I hope you don't mind, but I've added your blog to my links on my blog so that I can drop in on you every so often. Thanks!
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