Some more pictures

A couple of weeks ago, I visited a local poet with the Klassens. His name is Dmitri Koro. He has an archaelogical dig going on in his backyard at the moment, but it is all hush-hush, so don't tell anyone!

It turns out Dmitri is also a fan of Leonard Cohen!

Dmitri explains to his American guest how one can objectively evaluate poetry. He said poetry is like music. You just know when a violinist doesn't quite hit the right note. Apparently, the same principle holds for poetry.

Farewell, dear Tomsk!

Today is my last day in Tomsk. I have enjoyed my stay here in Siberia. I improved my Russian, met new friends, felt what it is like to both break someone's heart and be heart broken, and learnt a lot about myself in the process. I am especially indebted to the Klassens for allowing me to stay with them for the final week of the program. Fr. Alexander and Matushka Elena are extraordinary people, and I am grateful that things worked out such that I could spend more time with them.

It is difficult to pick out one single thing I will remember from Tomsk. Perhaps people's general attitude toward life here will remain with me. At the risk of making a huge generalization, I would suggest that Russians know how to relax. Matushka Elena shared her translation of a poem by W.H. Davies (1871-1940) that I think captures the importance of taking a breather, even in the face of hardships:

Leisure

What is this life, if full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare!

No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep and cows!

No time to see when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.

No time to see in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.

No time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.

No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.

A poor life this, if full of care,
We have not time to stand and stare.

An Excursion to Fr. Nikon's

On Monday, I visited a monk with the Klassens and their German guests. He lives on the outskirts of Tomsk. He lives by himself, but constantly has visitors. Here are some pictures from the trip:
http://picasaweb.google.com/engineeria/ExcursionToFatherNikonSHermitage#

Valentin Aleksandrovich Serov

On Friday in class we discussed the Russian artist Valentin Aleksandrovich Serov (1865-1911). I really enjoyed the following paintings.

My host mother and her girlfriends

(From left to right: Svetlana, Natasha, Olga)

Photo taken in Olga's store

Reality Check

When I dropped by my host-mother's store today, I was met by a homeless person. He was completely drunk. He just sat on the sidewalk and stared off into the distance. Flies swarmed his face. One foot was bloody with cuts. He wore a thicket, dark jacket, even though it was well above 90. He had no teeth, a scraggly beard, and blood-shot eyes. My host-mother called the police. They arrived after about half an hour later. I asked Olga, "What are the police going to do with him?" "They'll take him somewhere else?" "And what then?" "He'll just sit in another place." And I sat there in the store, having stuffed myself with tvorog (a Russian pastry), blini, salad, and soup. I felt like vomiting it all back up. How can one be so indifferent to such suffering? A few hours have passed since this encounter, and nothing has changed. That man is no doubt lying in a park somewhere craving his next drink. I'm sitting in front of my laptop, worrying about my future, my needs, my wants, my career. Life just continues along. Sometimes I find this fact very difficult to deal with in the face of such misery.

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince... in Russian!

Yesterday, a number of the American students studying in Tomsk went to see the new Harry Potter movie.  My friend Steve and I decided to treat the occasion with the formality it deserved.