Who is Masha?

Who is Masha?

I’ve been “Mary’ for about 40 years now. My childhood name of Marysia, which I’ve associated with the feelings of embarrassment and frustration, was left behind when I started college.  No one has called me Marysia for many years with the exception of my college roommate who gave it a Long Island twist. On my first visit to Anglo American School in St. Petersburg, the question came up of what I wanted to be called.  Mary is much too American sounding. There was already a Marysia on staff, as well as 2 Marina’s…. so I was ‘christened’ Masha. Almost immediately Mary was gone and everyone started calling me Masha. How can 40 years of being programmed to respond to one name be so easy to change?  Who is this Masha?

Masha lives in the heart of St. Petersburg. Her spacious city apartment, on the second floor of a classic old building, overlooks a tourist filled canal. On the first floor are a coffee shop, a restaurant and a small grocery store. Within a block there are 10-20 restaurants, more grocery stores, flower shops, bars, etc.  Many of the main tourist attractions of St. Petersburg, including the impressive Hermitage Museum, are within easy walking distance from home. The 30 min.walk to work, over cobbled streets, bridges both large and small is a visual cornucopia. Each day a new detail comes to life.  Each weekend is smorgasbord of places to see and things to do.

 Luckily, both Mary and Masha love to teach. It feels so right to be back in the classroom. The nervousness of going back into the classroom after 6 years, a new school year, being at a new school, and going ‘international ‘ was greatly compounded by the adjustment to city life and life in Russia. Now that school has begun, I feel like I’m back in my element. Not that it’s easy!!!!! I’m spending about 10 hours in the classroom each day and then a couple more hours at home doing the things teachers do. But what a class to teach! Most of them have an intrinsic desire to learn, love a challenge, are risk takers, have a sense of wonder and humor, and they love school.  Three weeks and I have yet to raise my voice. They can be ‘trusted’ to go to and from classes, recess, etc. without an escort, they make good choices, and are wonderful friends and citizens. Most are English language learners, with varying levels of competency, but that adds to the diversity and the challenge I love.   Inside I (Masha)  am jumping for joy.

More about the school in my next blog…

Stranger in a Strange Land

It started as soon as  I passed through TSA at JFK airport. Gate 1 direct to Moscow. I was greeted at the airplane door by a rush of Russian from a dour, orange clad stewardess. I immediately missed my friendly Alaskan Airlines…and my MVP status!  Announcements were in Russian followed by a poorly made recording of very slow English.  Everything was quite efficient and I was even able to recognize the contents of my meal.

With only an hour and a half in Moscow to collect my bags, go through customs, and get to my next gate, I was rather anxious...Russian customs couldn't be easy!  But all went smoothly and I arrived in St. Petersburg, on time, with all of  my luggage to the smiling face of my new boss, Ron Gleason, a former Alaskan educator. I immediately felt at ease with him as he maneuvered the chaotic traffic to my home for two years.

My apartment is stunningly beautiful in the historic heart of St. Petersburg. Not really a residential neighborhood. Tourists are filing along the embankment below me,  I can hear the announcers on the  canal boats filled with vacationers taking pictures. Brides, their grooms and wedding parties stop to take pictures on the bridge below. (I am told it is customary to have your bridal picture taken in 10 locations in St. Petersburg.) The sound of horses clomping down the cobblestone is becoming familiar. But little else is..

I feel like I'm in a bubble. All around me people are speaking and I have no idea what they are saying. In the rare event that someone talks to me, I can only look at them dumbly. Being a stranger in a strange land makes you feel less than intelligent.

 The alphabet is soo confusing! So far,  I've figured out which signs say STOP and which ones say EXIT.  Whose idea was it to have the same letters as English stand for different sounds in Russian..the r is a p, the N is a e, the H is an N, etc. etc. Then there's these strange letters for all the z sounds, tsh, tch, shch, sh...ah ya!

  The ruble, at 29 to 1 exchange, isn't easy either I peeled off 3,000 for my first grocery shopping experience. I'm given change, a mixture of bills and coins and have no idea if I'm being ripped off. Dinners are 250-500 rubles (at the places I've been so far) and there is a kofe shop (or two) on every corner where you can get any type of liquor you want in your coffee...instead of sugar free vanilla, it's Baileys. or whiskey.

The 24hr. clock...Celsius... metric....directions in Russian on the phone, the microwave, the washing machine, etc. Even my Yahoo page comes up in Russian! Everyday, common acts have become a a mixture of logic and luck. But I guess that's what I get for becoming a  foreigner.

Letting Go..

 It's been the summer of Letting Go...things, relationships, habits....34 years of accumulation....

I remember when I first came to Alaska at the tender age of 21. The need to have a piece of property, a home, was so strong,  someplace to call my own, to  raise a family. It was all I wanted. In one of my teacher ed classes,  I wrote a paper on the "Development of the Need to Possess". Exploring the concept from when a 2yr. old  begins with 'mine' to the writing of a will to disperse all that one has accumulated over the years. The need to 'possess' in our society is fascinating.   After much angst, we did find the perfect piece of property in Bear Valley outside of Anchorage, and began building our humble home. Over the years, the the possessions came and went; all the baby paraphernalia, the toddler toys and all the remnants of living and  raising boys. The boys are now young adults, exploring their own needs for possession.

With the second toe of my left foot sporting a 4 inch pin to cure a hammer toe, I spent the summer going through every file, every box of memorabilia, every piece of clothing, every possession in my home. Not having moved in almost 30 years allowed for much accumulation. There were some things I was glad I saved, but most of them, I wondered why I did. Now that I'm done, it feels wonderful.

It was letting go of relationships that was oh so hard. The people in my life, the friends that have become my family, some I've only known for a couple years, others for much longer. Perhaps it's because I don't have much of family that friends are so important to me. I've surrounded myself with positive, supportive, loving people. I've had many an adventure, much laughter and memorable events. It's hard knowing that the adventures, laughter and events will continue without me. But I'm secure in knowing that most of my friendships will endure my international wanderlust.

Living in Alaska has given me a sense of place, a sense of belonging. Soon after arriving on a vacation in the Fall of '77, I knew it was where I belonged. I love it's depth and its breadth; its vistas, its remoteness. It was where  I found unconditional  love as well as unconsolable sorrow and became the woman I am. I will always be an Alaskan in my heart and soul.

So now I'm down to 2 suitcases. I have all I need. I have tied up all the loose ends of the past 34 years of living and am open to whatever the universe has in mind for me.