July 4th RL: Random thoughts & transition to the next step in our journey

We’re on the train to Milan from Genoa, transitioning to the next step in our summer 2022 journey. We are going to meet up with Romik, Polinka, Maya, & Anya to continue our travels together, now in Italy. We’re all taking a bit of time from work too for the next two weeks.

The last two weeks swept with a lightning speed. It was amazing to be traveling again, to be backpacking, and to be doing it in the company of Georgia & Isabella. Even though we were in a close proximity to each other during the last several years of COVID, over the last two weeks we were able to see our kids from a different perspective and were able to appreciate how they have grown and the kind of adults they are becoming. 

Driven by FOMO we drove pretty hard trying to see (and eat) as much as we possibly could. The London part was easier because we were set there for a week, but in France, that meant getting up every day at 6am, finding a place to work, leaving at noon to grab lunch real quick, sightseeing, then grabbing our backpacks & daypacks which seemed to get heavier day by day (*alongside with our butts & other parts during this trip), and running to the train station, getting on the train that did not always have seats available or air-conditioning, walking to the hotel in the new destination, cramming in a bit more sightseeing before the day was over, maybe squeezing in a call or two afterwards, and repeating again the next day. They did that amazingly without complaining and it was great to experience this awesome trip with then. And now it will get even better.  

Some highlights from the prior days:

Yesterday we went to see Notre Dame de Paris musical in Genoa. It was completely spontaneous decision. We were contemplating going up the funiculars to see the city at night and then saw signs for Giselle the ballet, but the ticket office only had tickets to the musical, due to start in 12 minutes. Even better! We were hardly dressed for the occasion and what an occasion it was. It was a really awesome interpretation with some very creative stage design & heavy use of parkour and street dance moves by the beggars and soldiers that seemed to come out right from Cirque de Soleil. 

It was spellbinding. During the intermission Dan and I discussed how interesting it was that we saw Notre Dame the building in Paris not a week ago and now we are watching the musical in Italian. The older gentleman in front of us asked what language we are speaking. Dan said it’s Russian. The gentleman paused and said: “it’s OK, we are friends”. 

On the subject of Russian language in case native English speakers are reading this you may find this interesting, but it will span a few paragraphs... 

Being the occupier of the multiple countries around it during the time of the Soviet Union, Russia installed mandatory school curriculum in all the occupied countries and actively sought to diminish or eradicate native languages and culture. You could study in the native language schools, but these schools typically got less resources and the level of instruction was typically lower. Of course, it varied by region. When the Soviet Union was created and after the WWII, many educated and well to-do of the local populations were imprisoned, exterminated, or forcefully relocated to other regions. Likewise, others were moved into these countries in their stead. Most of our grandparents did not choose to live where they lived, similarly our parents did not have that choice. You can see traces of that in other countries controlled or influenced by Russia that were not forcefully added to the union: Poland, Hungary and so on. 

Dan & I were the third generation born into the system. He and I studied from the same Russian textbooks while he was in Lithuania and I was in Ukraine & Turkmenistan, and, other than a few words, neither of us speaks the languages of the countries (Soviet Union Republics?) into which we were born or where we lived. Russian is our first language, and it is a testament of the multi-generational occupation of the past. 

Being born into it, we lack a certain perspective, but it is what it is. We appreciate the tremendous power and beauty of the language, and much of the culture that it represents and so were, hopefully, able to instill that in our bilingual children. It’s easy to give up, it is harder to build. We don’t want to give up a significant part of what makes us who we are, and we love it that our children are being able to understand much of the perspective and richness that comes with it.

In the light of the present-day events, with Russia criminally and viciously trying to reunify its empire one should not jump to the conclusion that because anyone speaks Russian, they are a part of that criminal force. Outside of the former residents of the prior subjects of Russia, many Russians actively oppose its actions and had stated their case by leaving the country, actively fighting against it, or protesting other ways. 

On the subject of the magical experiences

Some of the deepest impressions are from the 1) Light show in Bordeaux – it grabs you and moves you to a new magical place. One of those experiences adults could relate to as well as kids. 2) A pleasant smell of perfume or incense that permeated all in pink Toulouse. 3) Pride party in Paris when a large part of the city on the Northern side of Paris between Notre Dame & Louvre became a giant night club with people being happy, laughing, dancing, and celebrating in the streets. Paris hardly lives up to the hype of being “the most romantic city in the world” in my opinion, but on that night, it very much did.   

On the subject of age

1) What are we - Boomers or Millennials asked Georgia when we sat down for dinner in glamorous Antibes Latin beat blasting… There was this Gen X somewhere, I thought :)…

2) Isabella was gentler yesterday: “In my mind you are still 42 years old. One time, a really long time ago, I’ve asked Georgia how old you were and she said 42. And so you are still 42 to me.” 

I’ll take 42 I guess… a really long time ago :)

3) Kids ordered cocktails and the waiter brought Georgia the grown-up strawberry daiquiri. She has mixed feelings but excitedly drank about an inch worth. Not to let a good thing go to waste I worked on it alongside with my beer. Then we walked around hot weather and all. She was going through the day listening to her feelings going through the range of light buzz followed by sadness. Me, I was mostly regretting only eating popcorn with my drinks. On the end we decided cocktails and hot weather may be overrated.

On the subjects of guns

Having come from a country where hardly a day goes by without another mass shooting being reported and continuing to navigate through the never-ending waves of pandemic, I’ve developed aversion to crowds. It’s physically uncomfortable to walk and stand with a large body of people around me. That feeling changed in London. Tighter gun laws mean that there is a high likelihood that the worst that can happen is a knife attack or car ramming into the crowd. It’s bewildering to consider that outcome to be the “more comfortable” feeling but I feel better standing in a crowd in London than NYC. Then again reading about the news of mass shooting in Copenhagen it is a false sense of comfort.  

Masks in London vs France vs Italy

The first time we were told to wear masks was on the train to Italy as we were approaching Genoa. London had the fewest number of people wearing them. It took effort traveling on the underground, going to the stores, and restaurants, walking in the crowds to see one anyone wearing a mask. It typically would be someone older or in a wheelchair. France had a bit more mask wearers but Italy, so far on the second day here feels more like the Northeast of the US, mask-wise that is. And, mind you they are serious about their masks, none of these lip service bandanas or even surgical. They all seem serious hospital grade or KN95s around us. 

On Jesus…

“He was a major influencer,” said Isabella after visiting St. Lawrence, the Beetlejuice church in Genoa.

Languages…

Tutta merda da portare via… remembering the half forgotten “quanto costa dreko naturale.”