LOVE IS NOT A POTATO

my kitchen, looking a bit more lived in than the last time it showed up on this blog

Today on the bus I was thinking about why I haven't felt so much like posting in this blog. Yesterday I almost wrote something about watching people get dressed at the pool, and then decided it sounded too weird. Although now it's going to sound even weirder because I'm not going to explain what I meant. I also thought about posting about this conference I went to this week, but it seemed boring and like it wasn't about anything. The pool post made me feel like I'm some kind of nature observer here, like I don't really live here and just spend my time taking notes on the crazy Russians and their crazy habits. And the conference was just something interesting I did, but didn't involve any good stories.

I think this posting dilemma exemplifies my situation here at the moment. I know that I'm leaving soon. I know that Krasnoyarsk is not my permanent home. I've known that all along. Siberia is a strange and fascinating land, and I love sending little tid-bits back to my friends and family in the U.S. But I guess the funny thing that's happening, and it is probably inevitable when one lives someplace for just one year, is that now that the time to leave is creeping up, I'm realizing that I've known these people for a while, and that I have a real little life here. I don't really feel like a visitor anymore. And yet, soon I'll be gone. I can't believe I've been here for over seven months. I really can't believe I'm going to leave in two or three (you can tell how much I've planned my next steps). It's harder to write about weird foreign things that happen because this place just isn't as weird and foreign as it used to be.

So there you go. I'm gonna try to turn this thing around before it becomes exclusively misty-eyed reflections on my time in Siberia.

As I said, I've still got a while out here.

p.s. the title of this post is my favorite new phrase, which I saw on a sign from the bus yesterday. I think it's the title of a play.