This is the week of the year when one should sit and reflect -- what good came of the year just ending? what adventures did we have? what mishaps might have been avoided? what conclusions can be drawn, and how might we proceed more wisely into the year to come?
And for what, and whom, do we feel grateful?
One of my friends has launched what she calls "The 2013 Gratitude Project" -- twenty-five acts of gratitude in 25 days to mark the year passing. We were excited to receive a "gratitude" package consisting primarily of Christmas cookies, with a lot of love to go with.
We made the list in part because I had shared a pot of borscht with her and her family. (I love Darra Goldstein's vegetarian borscht, which includes almost every vegetable you can think of, more even than Molly Katzen's version, and every time I make it I think of how grateful I am to have a Cuisinart, and how useful it would be to have an army of serfs to do the chopping if one didn't have a Cuisinart!) As mentioned in recent posts, though my family loves borscht, for some reason they can't even eat a whole pot, and I often freeze the remainder or share with friends.
The first part of 2013 for me was full of new adventures -- getting to know the city of Warsaw and the ins and outs of Warsaw University; finding our way around food and transportation and the medical system in Poland; sorting the kids and their school out and embracing the Canadian School of Warsaw; meeting new colleagues and friends at the Studium Europy Wschodniej, the Faculty of Artes Liberales, and other parts of the University; enjoying my fellow Fulbrighters all over Poland; and most importantly for me, exploring the linguistic landscape that is Poland and Polish -- with the help of my tutor at Klub Dialogu and by myself on the bus, at the bank, the clinic, the store, etc... My husband became "sklep Daddy" (like schlep Daddy, but to and from the grocery store!) and my kids learned to negotiate their own cultural and linguistic landscapes.
I am grateful for my family's flexibility and good cheer; for snow and ice and Central/ Eastern Europe; for the U.S. government, Fulbright and the opportunity to experience an utterly different academic environment; for skating and skiing and hot chocolate and cappuccino; for laptop computers, wi-fi, and the amazing ability to communicate with friends and family across the world, for free; for concerts and films and museum exhibits; for research libraries, bookstores, and cafes. And for blogging at the Manic Bookstore Cafe, which over the past year has enabled me to organize and understand my experiences and to share them with friends and strangers.
The second half of 2013, after we returned from Europe with two teenaged children and what seemed like a lot of luggage, has in some ways been even more fun for me personally. Building on her mom's retrospective habits, my daughter decided to feature me in her graphic novel project for world history class, so I was able to talk with her about my life in the Soviet Union as it was falling apart in the late eighties. Those images and memories became even more vivid in the retelling, and thinking about those friends and how their lives continue to develop and change, often for the better, has been a treat. I taught a great class of honors students during autumn semester and we galloped across two centuries of Russian literature and history. Trying to explain to them, and to my upper level 20th century lit students, just what went on in the late Soviet period and what it meant in terms of Russian identity and literary culture was made more difficult -- and perhaps more interesting -- given the news.
Indeed, memories of the Soviet period have in recent months seemed more relevant than ever because of the news. Vladimir Putin, EuroMaidan in Ukraine, the looming Sochi Olympics, the ridiculous treatment of the Greenpeace activists in the Arctic and their even more unexpected release, the amnesty at long last of Mikhail Khodorkovsky and of the Pussy Riot girls, and this week the tragic suicide bombs in Volgograd -- national and ethnic tensions and complications have been giving me the sense that sometimes we are back in a Cold War and sometimes we're in the midst of a spy novel or a Gary Shteyngart text... Politics have taken a strange turn, and I wonder where we will head next. But my own past experiences have given me a huge and valuable context, and I am grateful to be able to share my insights with students, colleagues, readers.
Warsaw was great, even though it snowed and snowed and snowed. Ohio has been great in its own way too -- especially today, almost the last day of the year, as I watch the snowflakes fall outside and try to concoct a version of the amazing chocolate/cream cheese/pomegranate torte that we enjoyed so much at our favorite (bourgeois) Warsaw cafe, the Ministerstwo Kawy. I am grateful for a wonderful holiday week with my mother, a new year's week with friends at home, our crazy little town with its much-anticipated basketball-drop on New Year's Eve, for a new year coming and a new semester -- new students, new courses, and a lot of cooking.
For Christmas Day this year I took advantage of two more meat eaters than usual to make the Central Asian Lamb Plov in Anya von Bremzen's book (as well as a vegetarian version I concocted for myself and my daughter). With the traditional side salads (a fantastic daikon and carrot salad, and an onion/tomato/green pepper salad), the meal was fantastic. So I can teach Russian and Soviet cuisine, even as the long-time vegetarian fraud that I am!
And for what, and whom, do we feel grateful?
One of my friends has launched what she calls "The 2013 Gratitude Project" -- twenty-five acts of gratitude in 25 days to mark the year passing. We were excited to receive a "gratitude" package consisting primarily of Christmas cookies, with a lot of love to go with.We made the list in part because I had shared a pot of borscht with her and her family. (I love Darra Goldstein's vegetarian borscht, which includes almost every vegetable you can think of, more even than Molly Katzen's version, and every time I make it I think of how grateful I am to have a Cuisinart, and how useful it would be to have an army of serfs to do the chopping if one didn't have a Cuisinart!) As mentioned in recent posts, though my family loves borscht, for some reason they can't even eat a whole pot, and I often freeze the remainder or share with friends.
The first part of 2013 for me was full of new adventures -- getting to know the city of Warsaw and the ins and outs of Warsaw University; finding our way around food and transportation and the medical system in Poland; sorting the kids and their school out and embracing the Canadian School of Warsaw; meeting new colleagues and friends at the Studium Europy Wschodniej, the Faculty of Artes Liberales, and other parts of the University; enjoying my fellow Fulbrighters all over Poland; and most importantly for me, exploring the linguistic landscape that is Poland and Polish -- with the help of my tutor at Klub Dialogu and by myself on the bus, at the bank, the clinic, the store, etc... My husband became "sklep Daddy" (like schlep Daddy, but to and from the grocery store!) and my kids learned to negotiate their own cultural and linguistic landscapes.
 |
| Tor Stegny in February, Warsaw |
The second half of 2013, after we returned from Europe with two teenaged children and what seemed like a lot of luggage, has in some ways been even more fun for me personally. Building on her mom's retrospective habits, my daughter decided to feature me in her graphic novel project for world history class, so I was able to talk with her about my life in the Soviet Union as it was falling apart in the late eighties. Those images and memories became even more vivid in the retelling, and thinking about those friends and how their lives continue to develop and change, often for the better, has been a treat. I taught a great class of honors students during autumn semester and we galloped across two centuries of Russian literature and history. Trying to explain to them, and to my upper level 20th century lit students, just what went on in the late Soviet period and what it meant in terms of Russian identity and literary culture was made more difficult -- and perhaps more interesting -- given the news.
Indeed, memories of the Soviet period have in recent months seemed more relevant than ever because of the news. Vladimir Putin, EuroMaidan in Ukraine, the looming Sochi Olympics, the ridiculous treatment of the Greenpeace activists in the Arctic and their even more unexpected release, the amnesty at long last of Mikhail Khodorkovsky and of the Pussy Riot girls, and this week the tragic suicide bombs in Volgograd -- national and ethnic tensions and complications have been giving me the sense that sometimes we are back in a Cold War and sometimes we're in the midst of a spy novel or a Gary Shteyngart text... Politics have taken a strange turn, and I wonder where we will head next. But my own past experiences have given me a huge and valuable context, and I am grateful to be able to share my insights with students, colleagues, readers.
 |
| This picture was taken April 3 -- just before the gorgeous Warsaw spring finally arrived! |
For Christmas Day this year I took advantage of two more meat eaters than usual to make the Central Asian Lamb Plov in Anya von Bremzen's book (as well as a vegetarian version I concocted for myself and my daughter). With the traditional side salads (a fantastic daikon and carrot salad, and an onion/tomato/green pepper salad), the meal was fantastic. So I can teach Russian and Soviet cuisine, even as the long-time vegetarian fraud that I am!
Comments
Post a Comment