My relationship with Ira evolved as time passed in Russia. From Minnesota the previous October when she was staying with us, through to Siberia, it grew. She was nervous at first, away from home in another land, living in another family’s world. There was an added stressed for her because I was a male exchange student-brother-person. In Russia, after the first half of the stay, she finally explained to me how she was afraid I would have expectations to be intimate, become something more than friends. She expressed further, her feelings, she was more comfortable to call me a brother and she hoped I would think of her as a sister. It was truly heartfelt and sincere and mature and sweet. I was so grateful for her words. At an age when hormones are firing and emotions are exploding like bottle rockets. I learned a lot from her vulnerability and her sincere words. I believe that examples of vulnerability and making a connection are conversations that evolve us. Each time a memorable experience takes up residence in our spirit, our potential improves.
In the final days I spent a lot of time with her family. I got to know her father and mother more closely and especially her little brother Aleosha. He and I spent a long time putting puzzles together.
Ira’s father took me to his parent’s house in the country. It was some miles away that we drove in his car. Yes, he had a car. He ordered it and it shipped to him in parts that he assembled himself. It boggles my mind to imagine someone assembling their own automobile. He made it sound like that is what everyone does. I found it very hard to believe, but of course I am in Siberia, about as far as I could get from home, the opposite side of the world, what do I know?
Ira’s Grandparents were way out in the country and lived on a very small plot of land. They lived in a house that was like a small cottage no larger than a single room with the bed and the kitchen.
There were many of these dachas in a row, Ira’s Grandparents were just one in a long line of little plots with fences between them. The small yard was their farm. It resembled a community pea-patch, no larger than a basketball court. They utilized every square inch of land to grow the food for the family. Mostly bags of potatoes, carrots, radishes, squash and other things they would can or preserve for the year.
Ira’s father explained that there wasn’t space for his parents in town with the family. This is where they had to live. But this was their contribution - they worked the farm for the family.
I asked them whether it was a good thing their government was changing. Ira’s dad explained that the government provided the needs to live - the bare necessities and the people found ways to supplement it. It has been several months since the wall had come down and since then the people of Academgorodok noticed the subsidies were diminishing and it was harder and harder for the people to live. He felt like change was good for the whole of Russia and the possibilities were exciting, but at this time the transition; the changes were not helping people like his parents. He felt they were abandoned.
It was amazing to hear his perspective. We in America wanted it so bad, the wall to come down, communism to end. Mostly because we wanted the differences between our cultures to be removed. We wanted the cold war to end, to not live in fear anymore. We wanted our people in America to let go of this scary idea that we didn’t really understand. But I don’t think any of us were prepared for the outcome, or the truth of how it really affected the millions of people in all of Russia, Siberia and the many small towns across Asia. How ethnocentric to wish for something to change for the benefit of me but claiming it was for the people of Russia, without really knowing the truth, with little to no concern of the many people it would affect. This feels familiar as I write it - how many times have we as a nation felt and wished things without a true understanding of the outcomes, the affect, the fallout.
Before we departed the dacha, Ira’s father and parent’s presented me with a gift. It was a beautiful black bear Russian hat. The kind that goes over the ears. It was like wearing a space heater. After hearing the story of squalor they live in, but never complained. Never once did they seek pity, they were gracious and accepting and happy. A true example of the ‘salt of the earth’.
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