From Karen Porter’s Diary note

Nov. 7 (Sun.)…a love letter

My 4-day holiday weekend (for National Unification and Reconciliation Day) is drawing to an end. It’s 8 a.m., and Natasha and I just saw Natalie off on the 7:23 a.m. train to Moscow in the foggy and chilly morning air; and I’m back here in the warmth and quiet of my apartment. So many thoughts, so many feelings.

This is the foggiest morning I’ve seen – and the coldest. The old, large, and romantic Murom train station was full of people, even on this early Sunday morning; many of them, like Natalie, going back to wherever they had come from for the holiday. (I guess most of these passengers were headed for Moscow, perhaps many of them having Murom as their home town. Natalie had purchased the very last ticket available on the very last train with a seat because of the huge holiday travel volume.)

I love the old 1940s black-and-white films with the people crowding European train stations in World War II in the mist and chill of mornings or evenings – the eerie but romantic feel of those movies, usually with lovers parting with rapturous embraces and stretching out their long good-bye kisses to their beloveds as the young soldier goes off to war. And, of course, the “Casablanca”-type atmosphere with Humphrey Bogart and all the other great ‘40s actors. This morning at the Murom train station was just like one of those films , as we shivered in the chilly, foggy dawn, bidding Natalie good-bye until the next time I see her, whenever and wherever that may be. One wouldn’t have been surprised this morning to have seen Bogie or Bacall right there on that train platform, embracing and kissing – it was truly a scene from one of those films, and I suspect that some of the people on that platform were saying just as heartfelt and agonizing good-byes.

Natasha pointed out the beautiful, huge painting in the train station waiting room – a vast panorama of Murom as seen from across the Oka river, with that river in the foreground. It was probably at least 12 feet wide, hangs high up over the waiting room, with an obviously worn wooden frame. Natasha remembers that very old painting from when she was a little girl in the ‘40s and her parents brought her on visits to Murom, then to settle here (her mother’s hometown), from their home in Siberia. She describes the week-long (each way ) train journeys her family made when she was a little girl. Once she fell out of the upper bunk; and her father thereafter made it a practice to sit up all night to make sure she didn’t fall again, reserving daytime for his own sleep. She said the local Murom artist who painted that magnificent painting in the rail station inspired many of Murom youth to enter the arts, many of them becoming very successful and famous.

…

How can I summarize this weekend? I can’t tell it all; and , of course, I was too busy enjoying it to write in this diary, so I’m going on memory rather than close-to-the-moment impressions. But here’s a summary:

Wednesday evening (Nov. 3) – I finished Bill Bryson’s Shakespeare , and I could not recommend that book more highly. It’s a slim volume you can read in a sitting or two. As I noted earlier, Bryson’s one of the 2 funniest men I’ve ever read – but this is not a humorous book. Oh, he injects his wit here and there with some healthy sarcasm and irony. But he’s writing more of a detective piece in this book, in search of that man called “Shakespeare,” asking just who was he?

Bryson doesn’t pretend to know any more about Shakespeare than when he started his inquiry, nor does he pretend to know more than anyone else. Shakespeare, in the end, remains a mystery. Bryson’s an honest writer. He goes on a detecting adventure, trying to find out what he can and telling us only what is known with such readable and loving commitment. I learned more about Shakespeare than I’d never known, learned more than I’ve ever learned – and finished the book anxious to see the next Shakespeare production that comes to West Chester . He also debunks most of the “Shakespeare couldn’t have written Shakespeare” fantasies – for that appears to be just what they are, fantasies and delusions. I thank him for that.

Bryson also made me feel, which I am feeling more and more on this trip, that I want to spend the rest of my life living, appreciating, and enjoying the very best our world has to offer – the very best books, music, films, art, drama, and, of course, nature – the very best. I can do all of that without material possessions and money; and that’s what I will do. When I lay down Bryson’s book, I felt, simply, “I want to take it all in – Shakespeare, ballet, opera, theater, poetry, other literature, films, and everything else fine that this world has for me to see, hear, feel. I want to experience nothing else in my remaining years.”

Thursday (Nov. 4) – Having finished Bryson, I started a new book from “Natasha’s stash”: Piers Paul Read’s Alice in Exile . Now, I haven’t decided if this is shameless “chick-lit” or something beyond that – but it’s probably a good relief from the Nobel laureates and heavy Russian history. It starts in London in 1913 with two young lovers’ first meeting and promises, from the comments, to be a “slimline Dr. Zhivago ” moving on to the Russian Revolution and with Alice as a “genuine heroine.” I will say this: It’s a page-turner, hard to put down. I’m into the characters already and enjoying this book. If I like it, I may move on to some other of Read’s other 13 novels.

OK, after finishing Bryson, I then prepared the apartment for “company.” Not that I feel that I need to do much for Natalie – we shared our apartment in Moscow and pretty know how each other’s preferences. And Natalie’s an easy-going, non-demanding guest and friend. So it’s pretty simple to “prepare” – run the dust mop, make sure the bathroom and WC are clean, make her bed (that Natasha and Elena so sweetly had sent over here just for Natalie, complete with cozy, heavy, bright red comforter!), make sure I have some of her favorites on hand (muesli, plenty of tea, some pastries) and plenty of toiletries if she needs them, arrange the furniture in the best two-person mode…easy stuff.

Natalie came in on the 17:53 (5:53) p.m. from Moscow, and Natasha went with me to pick her up; then we took a taxi home.

LOVE LETTER PART I - Natasha: Here’s the first part of this “love-letter” part of this diary entry: Natasha, how can I thank you enough? I just can’t. Words can never say how grateful and loving I feel for Natasha, who gave up so much of her own 4-day holiday weekend just to make sure my friend had a great visit. I had thought that Natasha would just advise me on how to pick Natalie up at the train station (which she did, but she also went with me to make sure I knew how to do that), then a tour of Murom on Friday morning. That was it.

But, as the weekend went on, Natasha was always there to make sure everything was perfect. She not only took us on her tour of Murom (she could be a paid tour guide – she knows all the history, all the art, everything about this city) Friday morning but also told us she’d arranged, for Saturday evening, a visit to Murom’s craft and cultural center (after a tour of the monastery, one of my very favorite places here ) and that, because an excursion bus was coming through that evening, we could join the tourists for a special performance. Then, as I’ve already said, she was right there with me this morning to see Natalie off – which meant we were all up at about 5 a.m. My cell phone rings at 6 a.m. as Natalie and I stand in front of my building waiting for the taxi Natasha had arranged - it was Natasha calling just to assure us the taxi was on its way (the kind of thing she does to alleviate any anxieties ); then she met us at the station shortly after we arrived. So Natasha gave up what could have been a much-needed restful weekend just to make sure we were OK. I don’t know how to thank a friend for that, so all I can say is “thanks.”

So, back to Thursday evening, Natalie and I arrived here at the apartment and ate a hearty dinner – that great rice-and-chicken dish one of the professors had given me (I’d saved some of those wonderful dishes and canned goods just for this weekend ) – I promised her I’d try to get that recipe because she said it was one of the best dishes she’d ever eaten. We had a just-lovely time catching up on so many things – her job teaching English for BKC-IH, her schedule, her apartment, her roommate, her family, her life; my apartment here, my new friends, my students, my life here in Murom. We collapsed into our cozy beds with some pretty great expectations for the weekend – which were fulfilled.

Friday (Nov. 5) – We got up Friday and, after a leisurely breakfast and lots of coffee and tea (included that great supply of decaffeinated coffee Natalie brought me from Moscow – yes!!!!!!!!!), we headed out for a walk over to our class building (regrettably, locked for the weekend) and my neighborhood grocery store. At about 10 a .m. or so, we met Natasha and started our first tour of Murom, going to the lovely churches and cathedrals and down to the river bank, listening to Natasha’s wonderful history lessons. I had heard her histories before – but I was ready to hear it a second time. I needed that refresher and was all too happy to hear it again – and could go for it several more times because I never get enough of it!

We also went to the city’s museum, which I’d not been to before. Now, I expected a smallish museum with some local artifacts and such. This, folks, was a full-fledged, large, amazing collection not only of local treasures, but some priceless paintings by some great masters. This museum was a Moscow- or London- or Paris- level museum – I mean, some real treasures. It was amazing to find a museum like this in a city this size (125,000).

We toured until about 1:30 and were due at Elena’s home for a mid-afternoon dinner. Elena lives very close to our class building, so we came back here and walked there.

LOVE LETTER PART II – Elena and Vladimir: When Elena invites you to dinner, get ready for a feast! I’ve raved about Natasha – it’s Elena’s turn. Elena had spent her entire day (and probably then some, planning ) preparing for us the best dinner anyone could have. The salad was crisp and sumptuous, the main dish absolutely delicious, along with a carefully chosen and prepared aperitif, bread, and tea. Followed by large, sweet, green grapes. Then, the pinnacle of the meal: The absolute best cake I’ve ever eaten, a concoction including walnuts and bananas and a creamy frosting - first a huge hunk, followed by a second huge hunk that not one ofus turned away! Forget the waistlines! Elena had to have been “slaving over a hot stove” for hours.

But, best of all, was meeting Elena’s husband, Vladimir, the real treat. Hey, Elena: You got the best of the best (and so did Vladimir!). I’ve never met a more loving, hospitable, relaxed, fun, funny, intelligent, caring couple – never . And their having us into their beautiful home was a gift from heaven. Just as Elena has looked after my every need and desire since I’ve been here, she made sure my friend, Natalie, enjoyed the best of Murom and the best of Russian hospitality.

Kisses to Elena and Vladimir!

We went home totally full and totally happy that evening and didn’t sit up too long talking because we had had a busy and fabulous day.

Saturday (Nov. 6) – We got up Saturday morning with the feeling we’d better to do something to work off Elena’s cake! After a leisurely breakfast, we decided we’d spend the morning and early afternoon shopping at the Kulikova Ulitsa mini-malls. We were looking for some things Natalie needed for her new life and apartment, teaching for BKC – things like some bed sheets, a dish-drain rack, a hairdryer, and one of those “push-down” coffee makers she’d spied at my local grocery. We got the coffee-maker first, dropped it off here, then set off in the other direction toward town.

I was so happy to share my favorite “industrial-area walk” – my favorite sights. From the high bridge, we watched a freight car loaded with many cars of coal from some far-off place. I showed her the place I think is a little hostel, some buildings I find intriguing - all things I’ve learned to enjoy along that walk. Some places that looked like they had “seen their day” but which give rise to imaginings of some sort of “splendor” in the past.

Although I usually am not a shopper (as I’ve written before), I can enjoy a shopping trip with a friend who’s looking for something (better than my shopping for something), so this was really fun for me – plus, we were walking off that cake! We couldn’t find just the right (preferably green-based print ) sheets or dish rack, but Natalie was delighted to find a hairdryer! She found one that will help her curl her long blond hair and was thrilled with it the same way we’re all thrilled with something we find rather unexpectedly and really feel we need. And, along the way, Natalie told me something that had been a mystery to me: She said someone had told her she looked like Nicole Kidman (and I shared my thrill that someone told me I look like Helen Mirren !). I’d thought, ever since I’d met Natalie, “She reminds me of someone, but I can’t figure out who!” That was it: As soon as she said, “Nicole Kidman,” I said, “That’s it – that’s exactly who you look like!” So, if anyone reading this hasn’t been able to picture Natalie – think Nicole Kidman, a good bit shorter, longer hair – that’s Natalie! She could be Nicole Kidman’s sister!

We were to meet Natasha at 3, so we walked back to the apartment, very tired and happy (with the great hairdryer purchase !) and ate another of the great contributions to my gastronomic well-being by the professors – a jar of the most delicious mushroom-and-vegetable mixture, a superb lunch. Again, I’ve promised Natalie a recipe! I owe Natalie lots of recipes, thanks to all my professors whose food we ate this weekend and to Natalie’s plan to have a Thanksgiving dinner in Moscow ( for which I’d better start tomorrow Googling – or writing from memory - recipes for turkey, pumpkin pie, cranberry sauce, stuffing, etc.).

Now, we said we wouldn’t tell anyone, but I will blow our cover: Elena and Vladimir must have wrapped up half of that enormous banana-and-walnut-and-cream-of-some-kind-rapturous cake for us to bring home the previous day. So, after the mushroom dish, we both said, “Shall we?” Of course! We didn’t just each take a piece of the cake – we split it in 2 and ate it all! And I’m confessing about that now. We did that only because we were meeting Natasha and would “walk it off,” which we did.

The rest of the afternoon and early evening, we went to the monastery and Murom’s craft center.

The monastery in Murom is perhaps my favorite place of all…or one of them. Anyway, it’s a place of great peace and serenity by the Oka River . Peace and serenity. That’s it. We walked into the church only to see a baptism taking place, then walked over to see the monks’ animals and gardens, by the monastery school. It’s absolutely beautiful there, and I think the river is one source of its serenity.

I’ve been thinking “monastic” as an adjective to describe much of my life in Murom. Except when I have classes or social events (parties, dinners, etc .), and particularly on weekends, I live a what I might describe as a somewhat monastic life here. For example, I plan to spend today totally alone inside, doing nothing but writing in this diary, a little laundry and hair-washing, getting into my pajamas early, and reading for many, many hours. I’ll have no TV, no radio, no Internet, no phone conversations – just me in this apartment being, well…”monastic.” I always thought I’d love this “monastic” life – and I do love this (as long as I’m in control, not controlled by some head monk or some restrictive philosophy or theology). I’m not sure I would want it forever – or would I? Maybe, maybe not…

After the monastery, we went on to the craft center. Wow! Like the museum, I expected something on a less grand scale – but Murom ’s craft/cultural center is a large, well-equipped, and very professional place with lovely grounds and an exceptionally nice building. And they gave us a very personal tour of the place and all its riches.

First, one woman told us about all the different dolls they make – the legends, their meaning, their histories. Then we went into the “costume room” where Natalie and I took each other’s pictures in various colorful Russian headdresses covered with embroidery, lace, jewels, and all manner of beautiful needlework. We also saw the most beautiful folk dresses you’ll see anywhere, including some amazing special costumes for “Father Christmas” and the “Snow Queen.” Those 2 were breathtaking…just breathtaking. Then, we went outside where the visiting excursion bus, which turned out to be full of teenagers from a Moscow school, had emptied its occupants, who were enjoying a special “performance.” The performance was similar to one of those games you might see in any American or English “Renaissance faire.” The teen-aged tourists (all boys, we observed, except for 2 girls) had to run a kind of relay race to “liberate” 2 princesses (the girls on the trip), who were each tied to a stake. Great fun!

Then, the director of the center asked us, “Would you like to join the youngsters to make a doll?” YESSS!!! Of course!

So we ended the evening at the craft center in the big doll-making room with all the Moscow kids ( who turned out to be from a school in Moscow where they learn English and who seemed delighted to hear us speaking English, at one point all joining in unison to exclaim, “Hello!” to us) making little dolls that you wear around your neck. I could not have chosen anything I’d rather have been doing that evening. I want to make more of those dolls! The doll-instructor invited me to come over any weekday to learn to make other dolls – and I hope I can do that, perhaps on some days when I have no or few classes. I fell in love with the Russian dolls, each of which has a special purpose, usually based on a story, legend, or fairy tale.

You know, folks, these kinds of experiences are not something you can savor as just a “tourist.” You can enjoy these things, surely; but living here for this period of time and having these experiences is the only way to understand a country to any meaningful extent. I wish everyone could do what I am doing right now. It’s priceless.

After bidding our angel, Natasha, good-bye in the chill of the night, Natalie and I returned to the apartment and ate again – this time, the potatoes, dill pickles, and canned vegetables some other professors had given me. I mean, we eat well here! And, as I told Natalie, I had to come all the way to Russia to find her native South African “creamy rooibos” tea – I’d never had it before and have fallen in love with it. I had no idea that tea could actually be “creamy” and so aromatic as rooibus! Highly recommended. What we drink here is Greenfield rooibus tea, though I’m sure it’s available from other companies.

We again talked until tired, talking about so many of our favorite things, wonderful past memories of family and friends, and dreams for our futures….then “Tired?” Yes. Showers, bed. And I set the clock for 5 a.m. for Natalie’s early morning departure for Moscow.

LOVE LETTER PART III: Natalie - I didn’t come to Moscow thinking I’d make a lifelong friend, but that’s what Natalie is, a lifelong friend. It’s hard to give a friend her due, but I can say that this friendship is golden. We spent only a few short weeks together (about 5-1/2), but we were able to forge a friendship that – thanks to the Internet! – I see as growing over the years. At the very outset, I’ll say that the “age difference” just isn’t there – she’s 27, and I’m 63 – but I don’t think we ever really think about that.

Which reminds me of a dear friend, Claire Davis, from years ago – when I was in my 20s and in graduate school in English literature (University of Maryland), then first-year law school (Howard University, transferred later to Northeastern in Boston to finish 2 years), Lou and I lived on Capitol Hill in Washington, DC. I was the “parish assistant” (church secretary) for Christ Church (Episcopal) on Capitol Hill, a 9-3 daily job that allowed me to trek out to College Park in the evenings for classes. Claire was the secretary for the church’s day school for children. I was about 22 or 23 when we met, and Claire was 52.

Claire and her wonderful husband, Larry, adopted a baby, little Marietta, from a young Mexican woman who did some work for them (it’s very hard for couples in their 50s to adopt, with a private adoption like this one often the only option). I became Marietta’s babysitter in the evenings when we didn’t have class (mostly on weekends), bringing over my books, which I could study after I’d given her a bath and put her to sleep.

We all lived in the same lovely Capitol Hill neighborhood, a beautiful residential area in the shadow of the nation’s Capitol, with graceful tree-lined streets and avenues flanked by row after row of beautiful, often ornate, but always stately brick row houses. Lou and I lived in a third-floor walk-up on 6^th & North Carolina Avenue, SE ( a block from Mr. Henry’s restaurant and bar, home to famed singer, Roberta Flack, of “Killing Me Softly With His Song” and many other great songs); and Claire and Larry lived on A St., N.E., just a few blocks away. The beautiful old church was (and is) at 620 G St., SE. (I know: I typed that address thousands of times! ) [Through Claire and Larry, we also knew Robert (Bob) Proski, who later became a nationally famous actor, but was then performing early in his career on Washington’s great Arena Stage. He later “hit the big time,” to great critical acclaim, in many film and TV roles.]

Claire and I hit it off right away and became friends for life – and, as I feel with Natalie, age never mattered. We had too much fun, too much in common. We were “girlfriends” from day one. We could tell each other anything, enjoy anything together – and, basically, just laughed a lot. After Lou and I left Washington, we didn’t see Claire and Larry much; although once they appeared at a party we had in Philadelphia . And Claire and I would “catch up” in letters over the years, an occasional phone call. Then, just a few years ago, Larry died after a long descent into the frightening and fuzzy world of Alzheimer’s. Later, just a few months ago, Claire left this world after living a most wonderful life. I learned so much about how to live from Claire – her imprint on my life is invaluable and indelible.

Anyway, the thought of my friendship with Natalie this morning brings back my old friendship with Claire. The difference, though, is that we have the Internet! I think that Natalie and I can “keep up” much better because our amazing new technology that can connect people. We can swap photos, e-mails, chat, Skype, do it all!

Natalie’s passion in life is teaching English. After she left, I was thinking this: The most noble profession of all is not medicine, not law, not ministry – it’s teaching. Natalie has chosen to be part of the profession that truly creates the world’s future. And everything I love about Natalie contributes to her being not just a good, but a great, teacher. Just as Natasha, Elena, Lou, Beth, and all those others out there who have devoted their lives to molding great minds are part of the greatest profession of all, Natalie has chosen to do the most noble work she could ever do – and the world is all the better for that.

And this, dear friend, Natalie, is my love letter to you: We are “friends forever.” All the things we talked about this precious weekend, along with those weeks in Novogoreevo, are things I want to know about as the years go on.

I want to hear about your life as your hopes and dreams unfurl. I want to share the ups and the downs, as friends always do. Share with me the hundreds of new movies and TV programs you think I’ll enjoy, the thousands of books you’ll read, the many more friends you’ll meet, the dishes you’ll cook, the students you’ll teach, your Mom’s and Dad’s and brother’s life events, the romances you’ll experience, the beloved DOG you will someday own (your greatest wish!)…all that. I want to know when you’re settled in whatever country you settle in, whether it’s South Africa or England or Australia or Canada or the U.S.; with that DOG you want more than anything else, and…who knows?...maybe that farmer or sheep-herder or cow-wrangler or teacher or whatever husband…and that school where you’ll be able to engage in your passion for English-teaching forever…and maybe a few young-‘uns of your own (what a great mom and wife you’ll make!).

I want to be there, Natalie. And always will be, I promise.