I miss being a child, and miss home. They say if you miss something, you deplete your personal power, and show lack of respect and gratitude for the present moment, for where you are and who you are. Is it so? I don’t know. It would be wrong to say I don’t appreciate being on the Island. Indeed, I do. I think it’s one of the most generous gifts of fate, God, and my parents. But I miss them nonetheless, and I miss home.
I sometimes ask myself, does it actually make any sense at all. Life is very short, and does it make sense to go so far away and spend these short precious moments so far away from the people you love? But it’s a rhetoric question.
Just as I’m writing this, DHL arrived and brought some papers from my parents. I saw my Mum’s signature on the first paper and burst into tears.
Novosibirsk is at the same latitude as Glasgow, so it’s supposedly as gloomy and dark in winter, only it’s not, because of snow. Snow is white during the day, no matter whether it’s sunny or overcast, and during the night it’s there, it’s present. It covers the city with thick, soft layer. It hushes all sounds, and creates new ones. You can hear the crisp creaking of tyres on the snow, the squeaks of somebody’s feet, you can hear the humming of the motorway. The flats are so well-built (compared to the badly designed hundred-year-old tenements block I’m gradually getting tired of… should move on, perhaps…), so dry and warm; it’s such a fabulous feeling, to come home from the frost, with red cheeks, and be dazzled by the light and the warmth of your room. And the other way round is good, too: rug up in a dozen of jumpers and scarfs, and run out into the street, and walk swiftly to the underground (which looks like an underground palace, rather than a TUBE), or a coffee-shop, to dissolve into teas and conversation. To imagine how the snow sounds, take a Granny Smith apple and bite it hard. Such a delicious sound.
Anyway. This blog is called GlassGo Reflections, not the Sound of Snow or anything.
In Glasgow, meanwhile, winter has settled and a new academic year is at full pace, which we are not part of. Yesterday went to a seminar where Kat was giving a presentation on biofuels, and I realised how much I’ll miss university atmosphere and lifestyle. I definitely have to prolong it.
Life has been very hectic, even though I’m not working. Rishab and I went to the conference Be the Change in London for just one day, and heard inspirational speakers like George Monbiot and Stewart Wallis (new economics foundation, www.neweconomics.org). Then we saw Crude Awakening, a very good documentary on peak oil, very impressive. After that, we organised a discussion on economic development at our place, and it was an absolute hurricane. We asked people to come up with their ideal pictures of the world in 2050, and there were dozens of issues raised. Very intellectually stimulating, but also so much fun. We’re planning to continue this discussion sometime soon.
Before that, we went to York. It was absolutely hilarious. We left home at 5 a.m. to get to Edinburgh (I loved the bit where Rishab asked the driver how long it would take to get to Edinburgh, for which he got a reply: You’ll see.), and then a train to York, calling on other glorious cities of Northern England. We spent a day in York with two very good friends, Bhav from Manchester and Violeta from Moldova, admired the Cathedral, the Shambles, the pretty York streets and welcoming locals, and a local pub (where we had two portions of apple pie and magnificent hot chocolate with a formidable crown of whipped cream on top). On the way back to Edinburgh, a copper cable was stolen somewhere on the line, and the train was delayed (that reminded me of home). The best bit was that, though ScotRail had nothing to do with our bus connection to Glasgow, they still provided us with a taxi. A completely free taxi from the platform to the door. Very considerate. Especially so as we arrived home at 2 a.m., and at 8 a.m. the next morning were catching a coach to London.
I think that Heima (www.heima.co.uk) was a start of something seriously shifting in my mind. This film, and then Be the Change, and then Crude Awakening. Watching Heima, I suddenly realised very clearly that the life as I’m used to it, and as I’m used to dreaming of it, is too complex and unsustainable. Life, in reality, is simpler and closer, it generally consists of close-ups (my favourite photographic style). I don’t want a car. I don’t want all the stuff that the advertising industry is so keen on selling me. I don’t want to waste so much. I want my life to be as simple and happy as it has been, only perhaps even a bit simpler and happier. That’s something I want to remember and pursue.
