Yuliya's Father's Cottage Part 2
We enter through the glassed-in porch
And I feel even more at ease,
Remembering that as a child
My own room once had been a porch
But there are even more windows here
With glass on all three sides.
Old curtain rods hang empty and
The room is flooded bright with light
(Although it's threatening to rain) .
But Vera quickly starts a fire
That takes the edge off of the day
And puts some water on for tea.
Simple things are important to Yuliya's mother.
The house has been vacant for awhile
And requires some 'sprucing up.'
We move some simple furniture outside
And Vera and I begin to sweep.
It brings me joy to lend a hand
Thus freeing Yuliya for her books
(She is studying for exams)
But Igor seems uncomfortable with this
(Perhaps it is that I'm a guest
Or maybe this is woman's work) ,
And asks me to accompany him
So we walk to a nearby lake.
We walk for almost half a mile
And pass quite a variety of homes.
There are summer homes both large and nice
And many much more basic ones
(Though none of them appear the same) .
It's surprising the community's so large
For there's no real shopping close at hand
And one must carry what one needs
From more distant towns when he comes
(For many people live away) .
As we emerge from a ravine
That once served as a road
The small lake stretches out before us.
Two men sit in their row boat fishing
Their rods as motionless as the day is still.
The lake bends lazily to the right
And vanishes behind a point of trees.
Even as we approach the lake,
The whole scene could be a painting
Hung on the wall of a vast museum
(Except for the ripples of a fish
That disappear long before they reach shore) .
Igor and I share my camera
Photographing each other
With a quiet reverence for this place
That would be no different
If we spoke the same language.
As we return we stop at a house
Which does not advertise itself at all
But serves as store and meeting place.
Its dusty shelves are nearly bare
And what we find of little use
But Igor meets someone he knows
And so we visit for a spell.
The cottage floors are mopped and clean
And fresh wildflowers decorate the table
When we arrive, Yuliya is at her books.
Igor sets out a cot and blanket for me
And I lay out in the yard for a while
Under a cold and cloudy sky
Snug in my blanket
Until it starts to rain.
I dash to get the cot inside
And Igor brings in the last few pieces
Of furniture from the yard.
As he brings in a primitive table
Whose legs and braces still look
Like the twigs they once were
(Though the bark is gone) ,
He says something to me in Russian
Which I don't understand
But his eyes joke about quality furniture
As he sets the table down with a bang.
Vera serves us a fine lunch of boiled pork,
Dark bread, tomatoes, cucumbers, and tea.
We listen to the rain fall on the roof
And pour out of the gutters into
One of two large barrels
Put there for this purpose.
It is a time for me to marvel,
To marvel at where I find myself
(How strange to feel so much at home
So far away from all I know) ,
To marvel at the generosity of friends.
Brian Johnston
Part 2 of 2: A trip to the Russian countryside in 1990
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