The Perfect Space

Last Wednesday was the bittersweet last day of the program. CIEE had a closing ceremony at school, followed by a celebratory cruise on the Neva. I hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before – Chris and I had been roaming the city stuffing our stomachs until 5am, but I still felt energized and excited all dressed up on the marshrutka on the way to Smolny. The closing ceremony was great: all the teachers and staff were there, and one of my friends, Clark, had volunteered to make a slideshow with pictures from the whole program. He did such a great job! Here’s the video, it’s so sweet:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ygl5FQVs9sk

The cruise was melancholy. An infinite number of pictures were taken of everyone and everything, and as we disembarked, it was time to say goodbye to everyone that we hadn’t made further plans with. On the bank of the Neva is where I parted with most of my friends that I went to Estonia with, half of my group one-mates, and my banya babes. I also hugged Evan goodbye here – even though I knew perfectly well that I would see him in a matter of weeks, it was still incredibly emotional for me because we’ve gone through so much together. Before the program started, Evan and I were sticking together because it was convenient and nice to have someone around. We didn’t know how to act around each other or whether we would even continue to get along, even though we both wanted to. It became clear very quickly just how close we would really become. Evan and I started our journey in very similar places in our lives, and in Russia we seemed to grow parallel to each other. I am so grateful to have him now to have someone that understands the progress that I’ve made in my life, and he has me for the same.

After a final dinner and chat with my host mom, who barely realized that I was leaving in the morning, I set out for my last escapade at the famed hookah bar. I ordered the traditional half-liter of Baltika 7 and gathered around a couple hookahs with a big gang of people who, in the real world back home, would definitely never be friends. All different states, all different ambitions, all different ideas about the world - but this is Russia and this is the hookah bar, and man do we all get along beautifully here. When it was time to catch the metro back to Petrogradskaya, I was overcome with emotions (big surprise). The hookah bar gang was like the quirky cast of a sitcom, and I didn’t know if I would ever have the same feelings about another group of people in another place. Saying goodbye to my friends Jess and Ron was hard because they are both such sweethearts and we became really close, and even hugging Forrest, who I could never really decide if I liked very much, was much harder than I thought it would be. Turns out I really do like him. 

My next goodbye was Chris. We sat and talked in a park until the very last minute of the metro. The fact that I get along so perfectly with him is pretty remarkable to me, and I feel like it says a lot about my growth in terms of understanding and accepting others. Never in a million years did I imagine that my best friend would be a Republican from Kentucky – I don’t even run into people like that, much less befriend them, but I guess that’s one of the amazing things about leaving your comfort zone 5000 miles away. Chris is the easiest person to talk to that I’ll probably ever meet, and chatting with him over lunch about politics, friends, love, and anything and everything else is definitely one of the biggest things I’ll miss about Russia. Hugging him goodbye was another burst into uncontrollable tears, but it appears to me now that life did indeed go on. 

  

Lastly came Rachel. I met up with her at 12:30 downstairs in our building at Dve Palochki, our sushi restaurant. We talked about our Russian journeys over our usual order, eel-mango rolls. Our friendship was made to be – living a flight of stairs from her for four months was a miracle, because Rachel is perfect. She was my companion from day one and a much bigger support system for me in St. Petersburg than she even knows. We cried and hugged countless times before I had to shout “I love you!” out of my closing front door one last time.

I didn’t sleep at all. I frantically packed my suitcases just in time for dad to pick me up at 4 am. As we drove to the airport and gazed at the open bridges all along our way, it started raining, even after a week of perfect weather. How fitting.

What I’ve learned in the past 118 days:

I’m finally in my rebellious phase.

Depending on the situation, I am either fiercely independent or need everyone’s undivided assistance. There’s rarely an in-between.
       

My likes and dislikes are highly adaptable. Except dill. I will always hate dill.

I’ve told myself once and I’ve told myself a dozen times, but now I finally put it into practice – no more judging people on first meeting! It’s simply disgusting how many beautiful people I immediately dismiss and I’m so glad that I’ve pushed past that and gotten to know them.

Love is strange. Love for people, places, things. Living in Russia, I’ve developed a whole new set of things I love, alternate to the set I love in the US. I don’t know how much room there is in my heart for these alternate universes, but theoretically, there might be a lot, and that’s really cool.

I’m not obsessed with weddings anymore.

Music is a playlist to life. If there was ever a situation in Russia that was strange to me because it was out of my comfort zone, music fixed it. I had never lived through music the way that I have been for the last four months, and I want to continue to.

I will never forget any of the friends that I’ve made here, especially Evan, Chris, and Rachel. I love those three to the moon and back, I can’t even describe it.  

Life always goes on. When things seem dreadful, impossible, fantastic, overwhelming - things don't stop. Everything adapts, and you do too.   

I have a whole lot left to experience in this world. See realization above.
  

I’m gonna do really amazing things with the rest of my life. 

“I wanna have friends that I can trust,

that love me for the man I've become not the man I was.

I wanna have friends that will let me be

all alone when being alone is all that I need.

I wanna fit in to the perfect space,

feel natural and safe in a volatile place.

And I wanna grow old without the pain,

give my body back to the earth and not complain.

Will you understand when I am too old of a man?

And will you forget when we have paid our debt

who did we borrow from? Who did we borrow from?”

-The Avett Brothers, The Perfect Space