Monday, 8 April 2013

String Theory

I'm sitting in a café downstairs from head office inspecting the passport that has just been returned to me and the new visa it contains that tells me that I have to leave Russia on the 3rd of July.

Originally that had been the plan; go to Moscow, see some cools stuff, pick up a bit of the language and get some teaching experience. I figured 2 years with a well-renowned (albeit soulless) language school on my C.V. would be enough to get me onto the masters course I wanted, or back to Central America, teaching there. But now I don't want to leave, and though I will be over the border by the 3rd, I am already well on the way with plotting my return.

I suppose the fact that I even had a plan in the first place should have aroused suspicions. Thinking any more than 12 months ahead in anything other than abstract terms seems to me to be an Olympian feat of mental gymnastics. My brain just does not bend that way.

The new plan is still technically a plan, though it's far from fixed and may not entirely work out. But I have options and so I'm comfortable with that. The one thing that is certain is that whatever I do I want to be doing it in Moscow, a move that brings with it a different set of apprehensions.

When I was a child I used to have a recurring dream that everything I touched became attached to me by a piece of thread. I would try to cut the threads with a knife or a pair of scissors, but then I just be came attached to them too, and running only made the threads longer and thicker. Eventually I would get so tangled up I couldn't move at all.

Sometimes I feel like the threads are still there, connecting me to all the people and places that I've come into contact with. Some of them are tenuous, spidery things and other's are thick knotted ropes. they are not as indestructible as those in my dreams but they still pull at me from time to time.

My worry is that the longer I stay in one place the more threads there are tying me there, and the stronger they become. Before, it was easy; the stronger threads anchored me home, the centre point from which I was free to wander off an explore without feeling lost. But what happens if I end up tethered between two homes? Will I be stuck in a tug of war between The UK and Russia? Does it restrict my movement in other directions?

I have said in the past that I felt if I didn't leave Moscow soon I may never leave. I'm not completely sure how I feel about that, but I know that at the moment this is where I want to be, so I guess we'll see.

Things I've learnt recently:

  • What perfective and imperfective verbs are.
  • That hitting each other with branches in a sweaty wooden box is a perfectly delightful way to spend an afternoon with friends. And a good way to banish a hangover.
  • Spring is apparently taking a gap year.
  • Trying to discuss politics with a 15 year old is nothing short of masochistic.
  • My boyfriend makes better cookies than I do.

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