Happy 19th

Today's got to be a holiday somewhere, even if it isn't in Russia (for once). In any case, To my dearly-beloved-and-travel-worn family:

 

I hope you all managed to enjoy yourselves on the extensive trip into the wildernesses of Utah and California. Dangerous places, from what I hear. Or possibly the only existing states (along with New York City, which is either a state or a city, nobody's really sure which) in the United States, if I go by what people on the street tell me. Utah's where all the Mormons live, right? Isn't that somewhere next to New York? I guess I can't really blame them for a lack of geographic knowledge, though. I know where Moscow, St. Petersburg, Omsk (that one is thanks to Sister Kovalevskaya. Every single English Club she'd introduce herself thus: "My name is Sister Kovalevskaya. I am from Omsk. Omsk is ze center of the world."), and vaguely where Vladivostok is... maybe. Everything else is just located somewhere to the west-ish.

 

I've told you about our Guard Babushka's, right? That's another one of those Russian Things. They all go out and gather around the entrances to the apartment buildings as soon as first light hits each day, and then they spend the whole day just standing around - sometimes alone and sometimes in groups - giving everybody who goes in or out the fish eye and,if he happens to be an unfamiliar face, demanding to know what he thinks he's doing here in OUR building and giving him a stern warning that he'd better Watch Himself. Or else. We've got about 5 who gather outside of our entrance on a daily basis, and luckily for us they've officially declared us Approved, at least as long as we don't go trying to do something ridiculous like trying to go out without a hat on or taking only a light coat in the summertime. Poor Sister Tolmachova had a run-in with one of them this week though, and although it was extremely hilarious, I didn't dare laugh out loud because I knew I'd risk certain death that way. Most of our Babushkas think that we're the sort of religious people who take confessions, so we spend a lot of time trying to tell them as politely as possible that of course we're grateful for their trust, but this just isn't our business; repentance is an individual matter.The other day one of them started telling us about how she'd gotten into an argument with the lady down the row, and as a result she'd been cursed with an unfortunate disease. We told her that it was unfortunate that she was going through this trial at this time, but we didn't think that it was divine punishment. Then Sister Tolmachova suggested, "but maybe it would be better for you to go and make up with that lady all the same." Oops. Obviously not the right words. "Me?! Make up with HER?! SHE's the one at fault here! SHE's the one who started it! I'M NOT AT FAULT! I CAN'T UNDO HER WRONGS! How DARE you suggest that I might be in the wrong!" Ah, well. Okay then. Guess there's that problem solved. We told her we'd pray for her and then walked away. As politely and non-threateningly as possible. Haha. I love Babushkas. They make my life entertaining.

 

Oh yeah, I got the package with the new memory card on Tuesday, which, needless to say, was a little surprising. I mean you'd only sent it less than a month before. In any case, thank you and Hooray! New pictures! Brother Noble went home for a couple weeks on Wednesday, and he before he left he kindly offered to send off (through the American Postal System) anything we wanted to get home a little quicker (and possibly a little safer as well). So I copied all my pictures onto my thumb drive and sent the flash drive with him. You should be getting it within the next couple of weeks, I hope. Of course it'd be extremely ironic if my flash card got lost, not in the Russian system, but in the American. I'd laugh, at any rate.

 

I guess that's all you get this week. Get some sleep, try to enjoy yourselves at home, and remember that I love you.

 

-Sister Read