One month passed already, since I came back from Sochi. I am still sorting out the pictures, going through my notes. I dug out one piece of my writing what actually means a lot to me, and I asked my dear husband and daughter to read and correct my not- to -be -too- proud about English. They both did, and thanks to them, I dare to place it out here for your judgment. If you do not want to scroll down to this passage I do not blame you. You, who did- thank you! feel free to correct and comment. Here we go. Sochi, February 11, midnight Exactly forty YEARS ago, as a twelve year old kid from Siberia, I broke the law. Granted, it was only a law at a Young Pioneer camp, but just the same, I went against the rules of communal living, and put my egotistic personal interests above public ones. If I was to be caught, I would be exiled to Siberia. Can you exile a Siberian to Siberia? Of course you can, if she committed her crime somewhere outside of Siberia! Considering the vastness of Siberia, you have to travel far before you can be exiled back to Siberia. Indeed, I had gone far then. Ironically, I had gone all the way to where I happen to be right now- in the Krasnodar Region, near the city of Sochi, on the Black Sea. It was midnight of February 11 then, too. Nineteen seventy-four. The law I broke was called “The Law of the Sea,” the first of the seven Main Laws that governed my stay at “Orlyonok” (“Eaglet” in English), the premier Young Pioneer camp of the USSR. This ostentatious resort was one of two best children camps in whole entire Soviet Union. Back then, millions of us, young pioneers, could only dream about one day attending. It was our kids’ Utopia. It was our unattainable “Shangri-La” Supposedly, only children with outstanding achievements in academics, arts, sports and mostly Soviet propagating could be rewarded the opportunity to spend a few weeks at such a camp. In reality, the lucky offspring of high-ranking officials were the ones who went there regularly, and without exerting much effort towards being an outstanding achiever in anything. For kids of mere mortals, like my parents, the chance of climbing to the top of this Olympus was extremely thin and slim. And there I was, an extremely thin and slim Siberian girl, just off the 4 days train, freshly disinfected in a communal bath, thoroughly checked for lice, uniformed and positioned at the end of a row of other new arrivals, all of us reciting in unison our camp’s Seven Main Laws. The first one stuck out in my mind. Why do they call it the Law of the Sea, if, in reality, it was a “there is no way you can see the sea” law? I remember listening to the protracted explanation. It had something to do with very bad weather conditions in February, and the danger of being out there, on the beach, unsupervised. In a seashell, our chance to see the sea was at the mercy of God’s will for good weather and the camp counselors’ wiliness to brave the “extreme outdoor endangerment.” For almost half of my stay I waited for either one of those two supreme powers to grant us permission. God insisted on bad weather and our camp counselor kept insisting on the great dark dangers , lurking out of the sea. I think the latter one had a hard case of aqua phobia. May I remind you- I was Siberian. I planned on being Siberian for the rest of my life. I had never seen a sea in my life. That trip to Sochi was my only chance. The sea kept whispering in my ear, “ COMMMME… ommmm….” And so I broke the Law of Sea. One dark night, I snuck out of my dormitory, hid in the shadows, crawled through the bushes, hopped over a fence, rolled down the slippery slope, and fell- knees on gravel, gasping for the air, choked by the magnificent sight of immense darkness, roaring and rolling its splendid enormous waves toward me. Its overwhelming power and inexorable force crushed my soul, broke my heart open. It washed all my fears and worries away. I breathed freely, for the first time in my life. I was right where I chose to be, and did not care to move. Motionless, I worshiped the sea. Under my knees, the cold wet pebbles settled deeper. I took one and put it in my mouth. It tasted salty, like the tears running down my face. I swore to myself to be back one day. I vouched to become free to see the sea. Whenever I wish. 40 years passed. Here I am, Black Sea! I am back. Long time, no Sea. I grew up. I grew old. I left the Communist Party. I left Russia. I broke lots of laws, and will break more. I am free to come back to you, as I wish. Thank you for crushing my heart. Thank you for opening me up.
Posted on: Thu, 03 Apr 2014 00:29:51 +0000
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