I’m on the plane now. Munich to JFK, the last flight we all have together. I can see my reflection in the screen on the seat in front of me, and I’m trying to use that to suss out my emotional state, but mostly I just look tired. It is currently Sunday, 9:30 pm Moscow time, and I have slept about three hours since waking up at 7 am Saturday morning. It’s been a time.
Moscow was wonderful, if you allow for the correct amount of cognitive dissonance. We got off the train from Kirov on Friday morning, and then we went to visit the cultural attaché at the US embassy. He’s in charge of all Russian-American exchanges, both ways. He talked to us about working in the foreign service, and about his career. He’s worked all over Central Asia, which was really cool to hear about. After that we went to the Red Square and had some free time to explore. Theo, Isaac, and I visited the Moscow Choral Synagogue. It was odd to see the Hebrew mixed with Russian instead of English, especially the Russian transliterations of prayers. We got to see more of that later in the evening, when the three of us and Sarah went to a Friday night service at the Moscow Center for Progressive Judaism. It was all the way across the city from where we were, and getting there involved the metro, an elevated train, and a lot of power walking. We were only 20 minutes late, so that’s sort of a win, I guess. Thanks to Uncle Mo for helping me get in contact with the rabbi. The oneg included blini, which I think we should add to our oneg, and beet salad, which I think we should not. The challah had raisins and these giant crystals of sugar on top. It was so good.
On Sunday, we visited the Kremlin. All Russian churches are beautiful, but the ones there seemed unreal, golden domes reaching into the sky.
We got back to the hotel at midnight, and had to be downstairs at 2:50 to get on the bus. I showered, packed, helped Rory stuff her suitcase way past capacity, and realized I had 20 minutes to sleep. So I read about yesterday’s protests instead. Some light reading, ya know?
We left Diana at the hotel, with promises to visit. We left Anna at the airport, with tearful hugs just outside security. And finally we left Russia, as the sun rose behind us.
New York has appeared out the window. ‘Breezeblocks’ is playing in my ears, and I can see almost all of our group from my seat in the plane’s last row. Sophie puts her book away, Sarah caps her pen. Natalia returns Mira’s portable charger. Theo unwinds from his contorted position, half in the seat and half on the floor. Nick, for some reason, is sleeping with draped the provided blanket over his head like a flapper out for a drive. Isaac and Benson share a pair of earbuds. And the music plays on. “Please don’t go, I love you so.” There is a jolt as we touch down.
Moscow was wonderful, if you allow for the correct amount of cognitive dissonance. We got off the train from Kirov on Friday morning, and then we went to visit the cultural attaché at the US embassy. He’s in charge of all Russian-American exchanges, both ways. He talked to us about working in the foreign service, and about his career. He’s worked all over Central Asia, which was really cool to hear about. After that we went to the Red Square and had some free time to explore. Theo, Isaac, and I visited the Moscow Choral Synagogue. It was odd to see the Hebrew mixed with Russian instead of English, especially the Russian transliterations of prayers. We got to see more of that later in the evening, when the three of us and Sarah went to a Friday night service at the Moscow Center for Progressive Judaism. It was all the way across the city from where we were, and getting there involved the metro, an elevated train, and a lot of power walking. We were only 20 minutes late, so that’s sort of a win, I guess. Thanks to Uncle Mo for helping me get in contact with the rabbi. The oneg included blini, which I think we should add to our oneg, and beet salad, which I think we should not. The challah had raisins and these giant crystals of sugar on top. It was so good.
On Sunday, we visited the Kremlin. All Russian churches are beautiful, but the ones there seemed unreal, golden domes reaching into the sky.
We got back to the hotel at midnight, and had to be downstairs at 2:50 to get on the bus. I showered, packed, helped Rory stuff her suitcase way past capacity, and realized I had 20 minutes to sleep. So I read about yesterday’s protests instead. Some light reading, ya know?
We left Diana at the hotel, with promises to visit. We left Anna at the airport, with tearful hugs just outside security. And finally we left Russia, as the sun rose behind us.
New York has appeared out the window. ‘Breezeblocks’ is playing in my ears, and I can see almost all of our group from my seat in the plane’s last row. Sophie puts her book away, Sarah caps her pen. Natalia returns Mira’s portable charger. Theo unwinds from his contorted position, half in the seat and half on the floor. Nick, for some reason, is sleeping with draped the provided blanket over his head like a flapper out for a drive. Isaac and Benson share a pair of earbuds. And the music plays on. “Please don’t go, I love you so.” There is a jolt as we touch down.