That tiny East-coast state typically boasts of incredible foliage, amazing skiing, glass-like lakes, and delicious slices of our country's history. And their rally-cry State motto is "Live Free or Die".
'Merica.
And make no mistake, I met some incredible Americans during my time in that state. Some from Wyoming of all places, some with accents that made mundane sentences deliriously hilarious, some from wildly wealthy families, some with sweetly ignorant ideas of what Idaho was all about (think spurs, billowing tumbleweeds, and swinging saloon doors).
And I'm thankful for having met each one of them...well, except for that one mean girl who played lacrosse...and her cousin with the scary eyebrows...but otherwise, each of them.
But the ones who left the deepest impression, who stamped my life with their friendship as easily as they got their passports stamped after crossing the Atlantic, were the Russians. There were Czechs (with teeny little speedos), a girl from Poland who, I convinced myself, was one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen, and a couple others from here & there.
But the Russians...underneath the stereotype of the huge fur hats & famous vodka (that part of the stereotype was based on fact...), are some of the most incredible, generous, compassionate people to ever grace my memory.
I met Ksusha (said like Xoosha). But no one called her that. It was "shortened" to Ksenia or Ksu. And she was a blue-eyed sweetheart with long, wild blonde hair. I began to pick up on the fact that the Russian girls seemed to think I was funny. Naturally, my little ego was smitten & advocated for quality time with them. For some reason, they allowed it, and I was given the precious gift of being able to learn about them.
Ksu did not put time into her physical appearance like I did. She showered and went on her way, no hair dryer, makeup, primping or fuss. Few of them did. And yet, they were radiantly beautiful because their souls shined directly out of their eyes & smiles. I don't think I will ever forget Ksu's smile. It is one of the warmest, most welcoming things ever directed at me. Pure happiness & acceptance.
Has anyone ever allowed you to feel that way? It's blissful & convicting all at once.
Their grasp of the English language was astounding & we had almost no trouble communicating. In high school, I discovered that I had a knack for deducing what a "foreigner" was trying to say when the correct words escaped him/her. And over the years, various individuals from other countries have told me the same thing. Exchange students would seek me out in the midst of conversations with others because of the luck I'd had earlier. It was like a word puzzle; I loved it. This trait was also responsible for roping me into making international travel arrangements for about 17 individuals. No sweat...ha. So, "the Russians" (said with love) and I were equally impressed with each other.
Ksu is still one of the least-pretentious people I know. She still wears flowing skirts and picks flowers and loves animals and loves to travel. A beautiful woman in every way. We would talk about work, the OMG-so-cute-I'm-going-to-feign-death-for-his-attention boy from Switzerland, shopping, more boys (or the same boys), or we'd just lay out on the dock by the lake together & listen to music.
When enough of us had the same day off, they'd beg me to reserve the Jeep and drive them into a nearby town that had a mall. Ksu was always in my shotgun seat, singing, laughing, or eating an orange. There was always so much laughter. I'm shaking my head now, thinking about it, because I don't think any of the girls in the back ever put a seatbelt on. How the heck are you supposed to help each other remember the words to the American pop singer if you can't see each others' promptings?? God probably just chuckled and cleared the way for us.
Ksu was one of my very first "safe places". It was just as astounding as it was amazing to have someone just let me be. We had almost nothing in common except a sense of humor and it was still one of the easiest friendships I have ever had. I don't remember ever seeing her upset. Even when she was telling me about the guy she was dating (and liked very much)...Michael was his name...and how they had talked about ending the relationship on friendly terms because at some point, she was going back to Russia and he to China. I could tell it hurt, but she was talking about nothing but good things. I believe I ended up being more heart-broken than she was. (Good-byes are not my strong point. Oy.)
The day I had to drive a bunch of them to the bus stop to get a ride to the airport was heart-wrenching for me. For one thing, please see above statement in parentheses. For another thing, my "safe place" was going halfway around the world. It signaled the end - the end of the summer, the end of making lakeside memories, the end of that season of our friendship. And it was raining. Like, really??
I still have the emails we've exchanged, though they are years old and no new ones have come to replace them. We are friends on FB who rarely speak...who don't need to. I will click through her pictures to remember and she will comment to share a laugh.
"Janellochka" was my honorary Russian name. And I often sign my name that way in correspondence with her. It's a thin, international thread that connects our New Hampshire season when we "lived free" to our current lives, our current selves. We have both changed & grown, but the girls that lived to swim & flirt & explore & get to the bottom of that Hawaiian Tropic bottle are still in there. It came too naturally for it to have gone away with the bus that day.
The last Ksenia told me, she was working as an interpreter for a government office, I believe. And I remember how proud (and envious) I felt. That girl...I know her...we go waaaaay back.
Ksu, you hold a very special place in my heart (where we shop & drink boxed wine & love silly boys), and I believe you always will. I value you & what you've added to my life.
Love,
Janellochka
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