This post is brought to you by the word наконец (na-con-YETS), meaning, “at last/finally.”
Ever since I returned to the States in December of 2010, I've contemplated writing an epilogue for my Russian chronicles. This blog began with my preparations for my semester abroad, and I always thought it would be nice to conclude with a postscript of my life after returning to American soil. Problem was, I didn't know what to say. I was planning to move back to the Motherland after I graduated, though, and I figured I'd wait to resuscitate my blog then. Well, life took a number of surprising turns. I did end up moving to a foreign nation, for a while, but it was Texas, not Russia. (Texas is practically its own planet. If you're not from there and you've visited, you know exactly what I'm talking about.) I didn't have many close encounters of the Slavic kind while I was in the Land of Dr. Pepper, Big Pickup Trucks, and Cowboys Fans, so I had nothing on-topic to add to this blog. I left it alone for the day when I could wrap up the narrative in a neat little bow.
It's been five years of radio silence, but boy, do I have a story to tell.
It's been five years of radio silence, but boy, do I have a story to tell.
If you're the perceptive kind, you've noticed multiple references to a "buddy" that accompanied me on many of my Russian adventures. If you're anything like my grandfather was in 2010, you might have even wondered to yourself, "Gee, I'm wondering to myself if this is the same person?" Also - again, if you're like my grandfather - you might think, "Gee, was this person...special?" When I was asked those questions by various members of my family, my answers were "mostly" and "absolutely not." I did spend a lot of time roaming Piter with a particular American, but I made it painfully clear that this individual was just a friend. The poor boy actually poured out his affections for me via text, and I fired all torpedoes on that ship immediately. We remained good friends, despite this, and he was the only person I went out of my way to say goodbye to, before I left the country. I was definitely sad at our parting, but I joked, "As the romantics say, 'We'll always have Facebook.'" It turned out to be prophetic.
Now, don't get settled in for a Jim-and-Pam love story. I don't do sappy. It's also not what happened. What actually happened was a lot more...complicated. It started off with a war. (Kind of.)
See, both of us had been in the CIEE choir, and I had video of our concert. He wanted it, and he threatened to post a terrible pun on my Facebook wall every day until I surrendered it. At first, I just kept forgetting to send it, but after that ultimatum, I dug in my heels and prepared for the siege. It was no longer about the video, but about who would be stubborn longer, and who would be the weakling to bear the shame of defeat.
The war dragged on for months.
In November of 2011, he took a break from the hostilities to mention that his youngest sister was planning to tour Vanderbilt, and that he was thinking of tagging along to visit me. We made plans to get together, which almost fell apart when he came down with the flu. But he joined the 9-hour road trip after all, and I was reunited with my best friend from Russia, almost a year after I'd left him (alone, on a snowy sidewalk, gazing after me as I walked into the metro station after hugging him goodbye. Yeah). I took him all around campus, including to a restaurant nearby called "Noshville," because, duh. I'd forgotten how much fun he was to be around. Then, his time in Nashville was up. This time, he left me alone on a (rainy) sidewalk, gazing after him as he drove away after hugging me goodbye. It took me weeks to admit that I missed him.
We kept up our Facebooking and texting, but it was different, now, because I finally realized that I'd been burying romantic feelings since Russia. I certainly couldn't tell him that, so I turned to my best friend at Vandy. After way too many nights of hearing me pine, she pulled that quintessential middle school trick: she went behind my back and told him I liked him, and that he needed to make a move.
Heh.
We had what the kids used to call a DTR - a "define the relationship" talk. It ended arguably worse than the first failed takeoff. Why? Because we both admitted our feelings, but he didn't want to date. He was iffy about long-distance, and even about the depth of his emotions. So, we stayed friends. Friends that talked on the phone, texted, Facebooked, and Skyped for months. About literally everything and anything. Yeah. Friends. (Aside: Being friendzoned by a guy you belatedly realize you love and who actually likes you back is weird. But that was the summer of 2012, maudlin details spared.)
In the fall of 2012, I moved to Planet Texas to begin grad school. Here's the part of the story where I introduce another suitor to compete with Russia buddy. Texas boy was charming, bold, and straightforward about his interest in me. He asked if I would be open to dating him. I said I was. But not without a final DTR with a certain young man I'd met two years prior, just to clear the air. Texas boy was cool with that.
I asked for a Skype session with Russia buddy and insisted it couldn't wait. I dropped the news of his rival and basically told him to stop dancing around the issue and tell me if I should move on or not. I fully expected him to say, "Go for it, best friend! Why do you think we're still just friends, best friend?" He didn't. He instead made his move (after realizing that he could lose me). Finally. My reaction? I spent ten minutes in my bathroom, trying to talk myself out of it. Or into it. Both, really. Eventually, I signed back onto Skype and said, "I guess this means we're boyfriend and girlfriend?" Then I called the Texas rival and left the single most awkward message of my life. That was September 29th, 2012.
So yes, that *insert random Russian activity* buddy you've been reading about is now my life buddy. It's been a fabulous first year of marriage, so far, and we're both looking forward to the future.
I didn't write this on my blog, but before I left for Piter, I prayed all summer for God to send me just one Christian friend to have while I was abroad. Well, he sent me one Christian friend...to have and to hold.
Best. Souvenir. Ever.
We kept up our Facebooking and texting, but it was different, now, because I finally realized that I'd been burying romantic feelings since Russia. I certainly couldn't tell him that, so I turned to my best friend at Vandy. After way too many nights of hearing me pine, she pulled that quintessential middle school trick: she went behind my back and told him I liked him, and that he needed to make a move.
Heh.
We had what the kids used to call a DTR - a "define the relationship" talk. It ended arguably worse than the first failed takeoff. Why? Because we both admitted our feelings, but he didn't want to date. He was iffy about long-distance, and even about the depth of his emotions. So, we stayed friends. Friends that talked on the phone, texted, Facebooked, and Skyped for months. About literally everything and anything. Yeah. Friends. (Aside: Being friendzoned by a guy you belatedly realize you love and who actually likes you back is weird. But that was the summer of 2012, maudlin details spared.)
In the fall of 2012, I moved to Planet Texas to begin grad school. Here's the part of the story where I introduce another suitor to compete with Russia buddy. Texas boy was charming, bold, and straightforward about his interest in me. He asked if I would be open to dating him. I said I was. But not without a final DTR with a certain young man I'd met two years prior, just to clear the air. Texas boy was cool with that.
I asked for a Skype session with Russia buddy and insisted it couldn't wait. I dropped the news of his rival and basically told him to stop dancing around the issue and tell me if I should move on or not. I fully expected him to say, "Go for it, best friend! Why do you think we're still just friends, best friend?" He didn't. He instead made his move (after realizing that he could lose me). Finally. My reaction? I spent ten minutes in my bathroom, trying to talk myself out of it. Or into it. Both, really. Eventually, I signed back onto Skype and said, "I guess this means we're boyfriend and girlfriend?" Then I called the Texas rival and left the single most awkward message of my life. That was September 29th, 2012.
On May 17th, 2014:
On June 5th, 2015:
Photos by Oakwood Photography
I didn't write this on my blog, but before I left for Piter, I prayed all summer for God to send me just one Christian friend to have while I was abroad. Well, he sent me one Christian friend...to have and to hold.
Best. Souvenir. Ever.
Until next time,
Katya
Katya
P.s. He still hasn’t seen that choir video. ;-)
