Nine Months

8-30-08

I'm at a crossroads. I like to look at the beginning of this school year as the beginning of the end. The last First Bell Ceremony I ever have to endure. The last school year I'll ever have to teach. I have nine months to go and I'm trying not to be too obvious about counting down – though my computer screen blinks the time remaining every time the desktop shows.

Nine months. So little time, yet so much. A lot can happen in nine months and though I'm sure the time will fly, I'm just as sure it will drag at the same time. As I sit and type I'm trying to drown out the techno music Nastya is pumping from across the hall. I'm looking across the room to figure out where they are going to put the couch that I was just informed would be added to my room. I'm looking at the dolls and stuffed animals that were left and I'm wondering how on earth I am going to survive the next month in this room. I wonder where they are going to put the tree plant that appeared by my chair the other day?

Don't get me wrong, it's not all bad living with a host family. My things are watched when I leave and my pechka is warmed in the winter. I have great conversations with my host mom and don't have to worry about washing my sheets or about drunks or children throwing rocks at my house in the middle of the night.

The problem is that I'm 28 and living in a child's room. I'm often left alone all day in my room, but it's hard to feel privacy with techno music pumping across the hall, or when Inna enters and lectures me about not eating enough. The extra couch is just one more thing, that much less mobility in an already tiny space. I've never been able to pump up music and go crazy. I've never been able to host friends in my village on my terms.

In addition to privacy and space, food is a huge problem. It may be new to you, but I don't like potatoes. Even if I did like potatoes I wouldn't want to eat them twice a day. Why don't I just cook you ask? If only it were that easy. I would have to bring most food back from the city, which isn't a huge problem in itself, but then I would have to store it in their refrigerator. How can I bring back food and not share with them when they share almost everything with me?

I'm tempted to ask if anyone knows if any apartments or houses are for rent but the possibility of offending my family is all too real. And is it worth it – to put everything on the line for nine months of privacy, space, healthy food and perhaps sanity? I'm inclined to think not. After a summer of freedom I just need to readjust. Besides, once I give myself a little time I'll be looking at the smurf and dolls with a mix of nostalgia and a reminder that although they may be here in nine months, I certainly will not be.