A Return

Hello, again! It’s been a little while. My apologies; I didn’t mean to disappear like that. I hope you are all well.

I have returned to the US if the title didn’t give it away.  I had quite the return journey to the US. Instead of grabbing my early morning flight on Ryanair to Copenhagen and having 12 hours to explore, I missed my flight. I had left my passport in my friend’s bag after we had ventured out late one night. After getting my passport delivered to me at the airport, I managed to book a new trip to Copenhagen. It would only give me two hours in Copenhagen, but I would catch my original connecting flight to Oslo. However, now I can say I had a double layover, having stopped in Athens on the way. The day after arriving in Oslo, I took my flight back to the US on a new airline, Norse Atlantic Airways (a low-cost carrier). After touching down, I scanned my face and walked back into the US of A.

I have no idea if you’re about to ask me how long this will last. This wasn’t the easiest decision, but it made the most sense in several ways. However, I could’ve titled this blog post “Going Home.” Yet, I wouldn’t call this going home. Moscow is home.

My friends and work are in Moscow. My apartment is in Moscow. My clothes and belongings are in Moscow. Everything except me is in Moscow. I would be lying if I told you I didn’t miss Moscow or did not want to be in Moscow. Moscow summers are unbelievable. They are long and warm, and the sun shines for over 16 hours daily. While I still had children to teach during the summers, there were fewer of them, and it was easy for me to take time off as I wished. This made my summers in Moscow extra special. After spending so much time indoors of some kind, all you want to do is spend every waking moment you can outside. There’s a quote from the newer Great Gatsby movie (it might be in the book, too, but my memory of that is not as clear); Jordan Baker says, “And I like large parties. They’re so intimate. At small parties, there isn’t any privacy.” The same could be said about Moscow. A large city, yet, you can find your little corner and call it home. I could go blind, and I would still be able to find my way out of my apartment, cross the street to the tram station, go four stops to the metro, get on the train at the exact door I needed to make a quick exit (the first door of the third car), and walk out of exit number nine at Lubyanka metro station, walk into a small shopping mall, take the elevator up to the sixth floor, and sit in my favorite spot at my favorite beer bar that faces the FSB building.

Maybe I do the same things too often, or perhaps I find pleasure in the details? You can be the judge. All this is to say I miss where I made my home. If you are someone I met because Moscow brought us together, please know that this war changes nothing in terms of our relationships. I do not think differently of you and will never allow this war to ruin my memories and life. However, the truth is that I must face reality, meaning I must return to a place that once was my home. For those who have left, I hope you find a place to call home. For those who have stayed and those who have returned or will, I hope Moscow does right by you.

So, what does this mean? Where does this leave me?

I can’t be exactly sure. I can assure you I don’t plan on sitting at home twirling my thumbs. I’ll be getting back to work at a restaurant to start. However, I think I’ll give the YouTube thing a shot, finally. I don’t have an exact timeline for when I’ll have all that sorted out, but it shouldn’t be more than a couple of weeks.

Let me know what you would like to see in terms of a “cooking” section on this site and on my own possible YouTube channel.

Bye!