Oh my, what a small region it is…

cupNow I understand the connections that Vova has. I knew he had friends everywhere, but how high I did not know. I have a friend now up high and it is someone I met a few years ago. I guess you need to read this article first; (http://windowstorussia.com/travel-in-russia-are-you-a-spy-and-other-thoughts-part-1.html)

Errrr, well actually you need to read all these, but the first one will give you the main idea…

http://windowstorussia.com/travel-in-russia-are-you-a-spy-and-other-thoughts-part-2.html
http://windowstorussia.com/travel-in-russia-are-you-a-spy-and-other-thoughts-part-3.html
http://windowstorussia.com/travel-in-russia-are-you-a-spy-and-other-thoughts-part-4.html
http://windowstorussia.com/travel-in-russia-are-you-a-spy-and-other-thoughts-part-5.html

and last but not least…

http://windowstorussia.com/american-spy-in-russia-now-my-experience-this-last-week-makes-sense.html

I guess you can see that I became absorbed for a few days in what happened to me at the time…

Okay now that the ground work is laid, lets talk about today…

* * * * * * * * * *
Vova called me to come up to his home. I did not feel like it, but a friend of Vova’s from a few weeks ago, ran down and grabbed me. He insisted and he wanted me to meet his son. (Now I will leave names out, you will understand in a little bit.) Vova’s friend is very proud of his son and talked about him the first time I met him a few weeks ago. Well I sat down and then as this man turned to me and introduced himself, the past slid back in place. We both registered immediately as to our last encounter and shook hands under a more opportune moment…

I just sat for hours while an FSB played guitar, his father sang Russian songs and Vova (he called Vova, Uncle) danced as he played the spoons. Then he played American songs, which his father just loves and they were the happiest Russians in the whole wide world, for I knew the words to these songs…

Finally they got tired and all wanted naps. Russians seem to always, at least in the village, sleep in the afternoon. It is siesta time, like in Mexico and Vova calls it just that, “siesta!”

I had my hand shook again and was told if problems tell Vova and he would tell his family. Then if able, things would be worked out…

I walked away, shaking my head in disbelief, for what a small world it really is and you never know who you will meet and rub shoulders with. Sometimes we meet turmoil and other times we meet harmony…

* * * * * * * * * *
IMG0824AWell, what did I talk about yesterday?

Fish; and now I have more fish than I know what to do with…

One of the managers of the fish farm came by and handed me a sack of fish. Five fish to be exact, so I spent the time and cleaned them and froze them. This time I was smart, I froze them individually in food bags…

I am going to save them for Sveta, she loves fish and I know how to cook it perfect for her… 🙂

I say, “Money poor, but fish rich!”

It is a fish farm; you know?

* * * * * * * * * *

The monastery is busy, it is Apple Orthodox Holiday and people are everywhere. I was told not to work, but since it is a holiday, the church has three backhoes, three dump trucks and a bulldozer tearing up the village. At least it seems that way and sounds that way…

And they found the gold!

* * * * * * * * * *

It looks like I have found my home, not a house, not a place to live, but a home of where the heart is. It looks like I have found a place that accepts me as me and does not try to alter me. It looks like I found home and I realized such; when those empty places in my heart were filled, by Sveta and the Russian Village…

Strange, for sometimes home and love is on the other side of the world…

Post by Kyle Keeton
Windows to Russia…

PS: I was told something that is weighing on my mind and from the source, means that reality is exactly what I thought it was. I have to sleep on it and think for a few days…


kKEETON @ Windows to Russia…

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