Between Babuski and Schoolkids

Perhaps the one thing lacking in my trip up to this point has been contact with people my own age (I'm 20). I have sat and reminisced with elderly women, and I have joked and played with schoolchildren, but I haven't just hung out with young adults like me. The closest I had come is the two students I now tutor in English, who are 15 and 16, and they constantly prove what a difference 4 years in age can make by saying things like, "Yeah, there's drugs, alcohol, teen pregnancy, and whatever... but the biggest problem for teens in Russia is parents. Parents are the worst. They just don't understand anything."

Honestly, I never really had any hope of finding anyone my own age, because the fact of the matter is, in Vytegra, there really isn't anyone my age. As soon as kids graduate high school at 17, they flee to the big cities in search of higher education, jobs, and modern conveniences. Between the ages of 17 and 30, there is a noticeable gap in the population here, as in most of rural Russia. So I gave up on making friends my own age.

Until last night. Out of nowhere, I got a call from Ivan, who drove our van to Oshta toward the beginning of the month. He (age 29) and his wife Marisha (age 24?) wanted to take me to the nearby Andoma Mountains and "hang out." So I agreed. They picked me up around 8 p.m., blasting loud rock music from their modern, German-made car, and we hurtled down the winding roads at 150 km/h (90 mph?) into the countryside.

They showed me the training school for the M.Ch.S. (Ministry of Emergency Situations) where Marisha is studying to become an accountant. They also train firemen, paramedics, and soldiers there. It was an interesting sight, especially since I gathered that access there is somewhat restricted. The guard at the gate was reluctant to let us in so late at night until he heard I was American; then he insisted that I go take a look.



From there, we went to the Andoma Mountains, which defy description. The picture below hardly even does it justice. We sat on the cliff overlooking Lake Onega and talked about absolutely everything within my vocabulary and a few things outside my vocabulary that could be explained by gesturing wildly. We even told jokes. It was nice to relax with people I could so easily relate to, even if they were still a bit older than me.



Ivan and Marisha dropped me off back home after midnight and promised we'll hang out again. And after the rough roads, I fell asleep instantly.

Today I was similarly surprised. After spending the bulk of the day translating at the Children's Craft House, I came home to find I had a guest, Ruslan. He had been invited by Nina Evgenyevna, who had sensed that I wanted to hang out with people closer to my own age. Ruslan is 27, so still a bit older, but he was also very easy to relate to.

We spent a good chunk of the evening at his parent's apartment playing Modern Warfare 2 (in Russian) on his computer, while he struggled to explain to me what on earth I was supposed to be doing. We laughed uproariously at my constant blundering. I kept accidentally shooting at the soldiers on my own side. But to be fair, I'm bad at video games in English, so I was bound to fail in a different language.

At his mother's insistence, Ruslan also showed me pictures of Chechnya, where he had been deployed in the army and from which he has only recently returned. It was the only time during the evening he stopped smiling and cracking jokes. I tried to ask him what it was like there, but he did not want to talk about it. All he would say was, "Everything you have ever heard about Chechnya is a fairytale." And that was that. I guess it's better to leave war to the video games.

So it's been a busy couple days, but I'm happy that I'm finally making friends here. Unfortunately, I leave Vytegra Monday evening, so that doesn't leave a lot of time for hanging out. Of course, there's always email, and I finally broke down and registered for Vkontakte (Russian Facebook). Thanks to the internet, at least, I can keep my new friends.