Getting Older

2:25 PM at 2:25 PM

It is funny how when you are young you impatiently count the days till your next Birthday, but when you get older you start to count how many days you have left before you have to add another year to your age. I can't really tell when or what year it is that I started not really thinking Birthdays are a big deal. I get excited about Christmas and the holidays more so than my birthday (I look forward to lots of family, good food, and drink). This year I am counting the days to Palina's Birthday (big 21!) and didn't for my own. There is just a point in your life when your birthday doesn't feel like the birthday's and excitement you had as a kid. I don't mean to sound down and depressed about it, because I am not. I just like to have a low-key day doing the things I like best. Which is exactly what I did this year.

I woke up at exactly 2:50 am on my Birthday morning. Totally by accident and I don't usually ever wake-up in the middle of the night. I looked at the clock and thought, 26 years ago I was only 4 minutes old. Crazy how I woke up at almost the exact time I was born. I always love moments like this and think they are special- things happen for a reason. After combing my hair in the dark for any gray hair, I crashed out again until the actual morning...when I was awaken by my favorite Peets Coffee Pumpkin spice latte and a new season of Weeds on DVD from Lisa. For those of you who don't know...Weeds is my all time favorite show and has BRILLIANT writers.

I took Wednesday off work, along with Lisa who wanted to take me to Santa Cruz. I really love Santa Cruz and appreciate it so much more that I don't live there anymore. Every time I visit I explore places I never knew existed when I was living there. We started the day by enjoyed nature in Henry Cowell Redwood State Park. I love the smell of redwoods and the ferns that grow underneath them. Being in the redwood forest reminded me how much I love nature and depend on it to be happy. I walked through the forest and realized one thing that is good about older (non kid) birthdays is that you can walk through nature and appreciate it, this life, that I have and was given because of my parents. The forest was practically empty (thanks to it being a work-day in the middle of the work-week) which was nice. We only ran into a few deer here and there.

After a few hours of hiking we made our way to Seabright Brewery for lunch and beer tasting. I had the Pelican Pale Ale which is the brewey's signature brew. It was probably the weirdest pale ale I have ever had. Very straw-like and it had a hoppy kick to it. It tasted like a wheat beer with extra hops. It was odd. Not a mixture I was expecting. Of course the Blur was what won my heart. The brewery describes it as: "A tradition IPA. Although golden in color this is not a light beer. With more than 65 bittnerness units its got a bite to it. This is a very agressive tasting beer." It was delicious and went really nicely with my black bean burger and fries. I ended up buying my first growler filled with it to bring home to share with my Pop. It is always amusing to me when I buy the most hoppy beer and the reactions I get. The waitress asked me if I wanted a smaller size? And gave me a look, like are you sure? It is bitter. And it was bitter. A perfect birthday brew.

Bellies full and head spinning a full buzz- Lisa took me to the Teahouse Spa for an hour soak in a hottub with tea and sauna. It was so relaxing and one of my favorite places and memories of Santa Cruz (from when I lived there). Soaking in the tub I felt like this was the most relaxed I ever could be. i also fell in love with their lavendar shampoo that is locally made in Santa Cruz.

After the hottubs we had to go back to the brewery, because in my buzzed state I realized I forgot my sunglasses there. Found the sunglasses and drove to the next brewery...but on the way stopped at the beach. We noticed the beach was empty (no one). This was the most empty I have ever seen the beach in Santa Cruz. So we broke the leash laws and let Jaime run in the waves and dig in the sand. The sky was so clear and the air so fresh. I ran like a kid across the beach and thought age is so over-rated. I felt so lucky to be able to experience my two favorite things in nature all in one day: redwoods and ocean.

We stopped at Santa Cruz Mountain Brewery which was in a warehouse and all local. I was disapointed in their IPA after my Blur. But was excited about the strawberry cupcakes from the bakery next door. We ended our day in Santa Cruz with a stop at Patagonia where I got a new capilene shirt for those cold nights sleeping in the tent. There was a little traffic on the way home, but we amused ourselves by making words out of business signs: Nagina Travels became Vagina Travels. And once again I was reminded I might be 26 but I still have the humor of a junior high kid.

I ended the night having a special dinner with my family (I missed Palina though) and was so excited to see my Pop got me that special Estate brew from Sierra Nevada. Can't wait to try it. It was probably what I wanted most of all.

So even though I am a year older- I am happy to be experiencing and living life. I feel thankful for all the people close to me in my life- friends and family alike. I feel so loved and grateful. Being 25 was a good year- I wrote a thesis, got a masters, had good beer, good laughs, adventures, and went to the motherland, Russia. I grew-up in some ways, I hope, and experienced tons of good times with family and friends. Life is good. I can't wait for another year of memories.

The Places We Call Home

11:34 AM at 11:34 AM

Ever since I have been back from Russia I fell into a sort of funk. I was homesick for a country and place I had a strong connection with. Over the years I have come to know myself as someone who doesn't like change and cannot stand the idea of moving away unless I am completely comfortable with the place. I have felt this comfortableness with very few places in my lifetime-Mendocino, Davis, Seattle, and now Moscow. It is something hard to describe to people and hard for others to understand. I even have a hard time understanding myself- why these places? I mean I travel to Costa Rica, Canada, Boston, and many other places...I love each vacation and trip and place and memories formed from these places, but I never feel a yearning for them like I do for my top favorite places. As a way to try and understand place and why, I have been thinking alot about identies and who are we based on the places we connect to or live in. I mean, luckily, I was able to do a whole thesis on this topic and explore it through creative stories rather than research and academic articles. I was able to create fictional characters to figure out why they do what they do and who they are based on their locations. My thesis and stories allowed me to put my questions and ideas on the page, but conclusions still seem far off, like a journey that may never end until life does. Do we feel connected to the places based on only certain experiences? That doesn't make sense. I mean one of the coolest things I have ever seen in my life were breaching humpback whales (only feet away from a boat) in the Atlantic Ocean off the coast of Boston. or Oktoberfest in Munich- no party or beer could amount to this event. These experiences have not pushed me to want to live in Boston or Munich. Could it be the homely experiences that bring comfort? Sitting in a Moscow Apt. while it rains outside, with a beer and good music? Or being able to eaisly navigate in the dark through my old room/child-home house in Davis while there is a power-outage? Or listening to the ocean waves while enjoyed a coconut latte at Moodies in Mendocino? Or instead of the small comfortable experiences, could it be the people? Family that is there to take shots of vodka with you in Seattle, or family to go mushroom hunting with in mendocino? This last weekend I went to visit Palina in San Luis Opisbo and I think I really needed to. Ever since spending a few days with my little sister I have felt so much better about being back in California. I remembered how hard it is to be away from people you have a strong connection with. I wished she lived closer to me so we could laugh about the small things in life and enjoy dog expeditions together. So is it the people that allow us to yearn and connect to the places? Or could it be the challenges and outcomes we experience at a place? Like graduating from college (twice) while working harder than ever in my life in Davis? Or learning the small things in Russia- like reading metro signs or ordering a beer in Russian?
Place.
It has to be one of my favorite words, because of all the unanswered questions running through my mind everyday.

A Country Worth Meeting

2:10 PM at 2:10 PM

After Saint Petersburg, coming back to Moscow felt like I was coming back to a familiar place that grew on me- a place I once was shocked by, I felt welcomed by. In our last week we relaxed more, took a break from tourist monuments and did everyday things- went to grocery stores, rode the metro over a dozen times, went to a mall, drank more beer, visited with family, and caught up on sleep. Every night before bed time I would study the Russian alphabet and whisper the sounds of the letters outloud. On the metro, walking through the city, and while in the grocery store I would put the sounds of letters together to read the words. Learning to read at least a limited amount in the last week made me feel as accomplished as finishing my 162 page thesis. The challenge of learning to say the words was only half the work. The words I could now semi-pronouce were unfamiliar to me- a vocabulary that became a new challenge to understand and learn. In my last week in Moscow I grew so excited and passionate about learning a language that seemed to daunting and intimidating in the first week. On my last day in the city- I felt brave enough to take the metro without my mom's translating help and even ordered two beers byself from a kiosk on the street. It might seem like a silly task- but the kiosks sell row of beers from behind a window. It is not like a grocery store where you can choose your bottle and take it up to the register to be rung up. You have to stick your head into the window of the kiosk and say the name of the beer, how many, and if you prefer it in a bottle or can. All of which I was able to do and then skip my way back to the embassy.

While I spent my last week focusing on the language, I also found myself finding comfort in the rushed city filled with unhelpful people. I started to notice Russians who all seemed to only reply in "niyet" and a head shake, were offering directions. Cars in the busy city traffic that would pummel any pedestrian that stupidly stepped into the streets were stopping to let people pass. I started to realize this busy and harsh city is really warm with a nice kick or punch to it. I started to relate to the fast pace and realize at home when I loose my patience with long lines, traffic, slow walkers or bike riders- it is really the Russian in me talking.

I spent time learning more about my Russian family- I met my mom's cousin's daughter Dasha, and her three young children. The youngest, Liza, who was eight told me she will teach me Russian. She is going to mail me letters she will cut out herself and words that start with each letter. I also grew closer to the "American" family and was able to watch Stefan quickly learn to ride a ripstick, along with listen to him recite memorized poetry (not at the same time, although maybe next time I will ask him to recite the poetry while on the ripstick). I had an amazing time talking to Dina about fashion, music, art, and connect on humorous level about the challenges of different Countries. Peter and I were able to go with my Pop to Tinkhoff a Russian brewrey that brewed its own beer there. We were hoping to finally get the hoppy stuff we were missing back at home, but found the Russians strictly brew pilsners (I had an unfiltered pilsner that was quite good) and lagers. I grew to feel at home in Peter and Dina's cozy apartment. The warmth, good food and drink, wonderful company, and laughs made me feel like I had just as much family in Russia as I do here, in Davis, the place I feel so tied too.

In our last days we went to izmaylovo (a Russian flea market of sorts that had artists selling things, and Russians selling antiques and items from the war that carried a weight and story that felt heavy). I was able to buy hand carved and painted matroyshkas like I have never seen before, cute antique postcards from the 50s and have writing still on them, a few other small things to bring home, and of course, I bargained to get some fur tails for the dogs. No one would believe me I would do it from the guy selling fur hats, but I felt like he might have some tails. Sure enough he had a black garabage bag full of them and to my surprise he accepted my deal of $1 each. After our big day of shopping we had the daunting task of trying to figure out how to pack everything back into our suitcases. Not only was it a hard task, but we were going to smuggle alot of things across customs- so hiding these items and deciding what the stories were going to be if we got caught were part of the challenge. Luckily we made it through customs with 6 bottles of vodka (well over the limit), fur tails, antiques that were not supposed to leave the country, and black caviar that we accepted as a gift from Nina's Maxime hours before the flight. As I walked through the Russian airport and security asked me "Have you accepted a gift from anyone while staying here in Russia?" I said no, like any good Russian would, and wished I could tell the security officer that the biggest gift I accepted was connecting to your country on so many different levels.

It has almost been a week since I have been home and I have been trying to write everyday but couldn't. I felt sick and like part of me was still left in Russia. My mind was numb and my head cloudy. I couldn't adapt back to this time and never had this problem before. It was like jetlag that never would get better. It was almost a heartache for a country I wish wasn't half way around the world from me.

The Davis streets that are usually so crowded at this time of year with all the students back, feel deserted. The signs that I now can read, feel dull and boring. The people in the grocery stores and airports all feel like they are going to slow. The hoppy beer that I drank like water now feels more bitter than ever. The english being spoken around me blurs together into sounds I no longer try to make out. The escalators at the airport feel slow and skinny.

I know every time you travel you grow as a person, but this Russia trip was huge for me. Maybe it is because I am in a point in my life where everything seems uncertain. But in Russia I learned two of the most important things I need right now in my life- bravery and courage. Costa Rica was an adventure with lots of memories. Germany was a beautiful country with amazing beer- that will always be one of my favorite places on earth. Russia was where I went to become brave and couragous. Through my connections with the culture, the people, my heritage and mom's memories- I have learned that the world is at my finger tips and is waiting for me to go explore it.