Day 13: Tyumen

Wait P.S.  I found out that Russian people ARE living in the hostels!  They're just living here. It's cheaper than rent.  They be chillin'.  I finally asked because I was just getting so confused.  European hostels are full of travelers, sight-seers, etc..  So, why are there Russia people just hanging out in these hostels all day doing nothing?  They live here.  Still doesn't explain the doing nothing part.  I'm especially still confused by the old men living here.  Did their wives kick them out?  Haha, maybe I shouldn't laugh at that...

Back to the story.  Across from me on the train these few days is this annoying family.  They play cards all night and wake up early and whisper, loudly.  Aware of the paradox?  Me too.

They had gotten on my last nerve this morning when they invited me to play cards with them.  Of course, despite the fact that I knew I wasn't going to be able to figure out how to play the game, I couldn't say no.

Turns out, they are amazing people.  We talked for 8 hours.  By talked I mean, they didn't know a word of English, but we just managed to figure it out.  Lots of charades.

The first two hours they tried in vain to teach me this card game.  I must have played 30 rounds, still no idea.  Though I'm sure they thought I was pathetic for not being able to figure out how to play this seemingly simple game, I did manage to impress them with my wicked card-shuffling skills.  And by THAT I mean, I simply shuffled and they thought that was exciting.  They don't shuffle the way we do I guess.  It's really the little things.  The little differences in cultures that are so amazing to me.

The family was a mother, father, and son.  The son, about my age, kept talking and talking and talking to me in Russian.  I probably didn't pick up 90% of what he was saying.  But I smiled and nodded.  Somehow I did seem to pick up the general concepts of what he was talking about.  Language is really amazing in that way, isn't it?  

Another side note: Russia is similar to America in that, when someone doesn't speak our language, our solution is to talk more and talk louder.  So....I still don't understand and now I'm more confused and my ears hurt.  Anyway.

Later we were joined by a military guy who knew a few words of English.  Then we were joined by his friend who works in the special operations unit.  He is VERY proud of this.  He showed me countless photos and videos of the Special Ops., of him beating the crap out of people, of his black eye and bloody knuckles, propaganda videos, pro military advertisements, allllllllll of the photos of him in his uniform holding various weaponry...he loves what he does.  Loves it.

Lastly, we were joined by a 12-year-old boy named Nikita.  Nikita heard me speak in English and he came over.  He loves English and said it was he dream to talk to an American in English.  This boy was so adorable.  So so adorable.  He was so happy to talk.  I gave him my email and address and he coved it away in his passport.  He was so so cute.  Whenever I think that I don't really love teaching, I think about kids like Nikita, and I absolutely love it again.  This kid was adorably brilliant.

I also learned today that Russian people are very protective.  If they like you, you're in.  A woman came on the train and tried to tell me to move my things and that I was in her space.  The mother in the family I met fiercely defended me and sent that woman packing.  It was fierce.  Like, Tyra Bank's Zoolander Face fierce.

The time flew by when I was talking to these guys.  8 hours seemed like nothing.  We had such a nice time.  Finally, it was my stop and I had to say goodbye.  Again, I didn't want to.

The dad gave me a big bear hug and said what I can only infer was "good luck with everything Katie."

The Special Ops guy followed me out and gave me a gift.  His coveted, Special Ops. dog tag.  I couldn't believe it.  I was honestly moved beyond words.  There may have been tears, I don't want to talk about it.