Archive for the Tag Russia
Was an amazing time. 9 countries, 6 months and 3 people (including our 1 sweet baby). We met the Gypsy King in Moldova, became good friends with a poor family in autonomous republic Transnistria, fell in love with Crimean landscape, hated corrupted Russian police, had a good rest in Chechenyan villages in Georgia, melt in 42 Celsius degrees in Azerbaijan, got wet in Nagorny Karabakh, were asking questions about Turkey in Armenia and about Armenia in Turkey. And all of this with a small, even not one year old daughter Hanna. An all of this against a common opinion that with a moment of having a baby your world is over.
Our very last day of the trip and she started to walk!
In this busy time of repacking all our luggage in some small car workshop in Belgrade we didn’t give much attention to Hanna. She was playing with toys, boxes, everything she could find around. Soon we were supposed to drive to hotel with warm shower, so we didn’t care much about her getting more and more dirty. And suddenly: our dirty sweetest left toyes and chairs behind and… walked away! And then she was walking and walking, laughting and laughting. Must be amazing moment to feel that moving on your own is really possible.
Our big girl: first stood up in Bulgaria, said “mama” and “tata” in Ukraine, learned how to grab noses of policemen in Russia, was dancing in Chechenyan village in Georgia, had her first birthday in Azerbaijan, fell in love with olives in Armenia, said first words in Turkish in Turkey and… started to walk in Serbia!
Our days in Russia were like one big stomachache before the big exam – and long ours on the ferry to Turkey were like feeling just after the exam: all emotions pouring down our bodies and minds. read more »
Very soon it will be 6 years when Beslan massacre took place. But in destroyed school building people are still crying. read more »
Every morning the same game: Maybe a fast cigarette with shaking, sweating hands before starting? Shit I don’t smoke anymore. Or a sip of vodka? Bullshit, it’s morning. I feel like puking – have to find to a tree. I am sick. Starting the car means inevitable consequences.
I feel just like in school times before a big mathematics exam. You skipped the last classes, you are not prepared at all, you will fail badly. I am sick. Leaving the house in the morning, going to school means inevitable consequences.
And still I turn the key and start the car. Driving three minutes and you see him from far away. You go slower, even if it doesn’t help, you see his white blue car behind the trees, his big hat. You see him looking at your car, at your foreign number plate, you see him raising his arm, pointing at you. Your heart is beating into your neck, you swallow not to puke. You hate him and you stop your car. read more »