The Final Cut

We're back home and to our routines.  The journey began early last Friday by flying to Moscow arriving about 2pm.  We checked our bags for our next day flight and boarded a train for Paveletsky Station in downtown Moscow.  Forty-five minutes later we spill out onto the platform and were greeted with a cold, damp, slap in the face from Moscow winds.  The Weather Channel app lied.

Our dear friend Anna Bondarenko met us inside the train station and guided us to the subway which is maddeningly chaotic and not for the faint of heart. We hold tight to Anna who guides us to the right platform and train and we zip away to Red Square.  A few minutes later we're on the street and there it was again - another cold and damp slap across the face.  Brrrr.

We meander around a bit before making our way to Red Square only to find it closed for a military parade rehearsal (http://photoblog.nbcnews.com/_news/2012/11/02/14884922-remarkably-limber-russian-soldiers-rehearse-for-parade-in-red-square-moscow?lite)!  Rachael and Julie were unamused.  The story has a happy ending, though, as later in the evening Red Square was reopened and the girls had a field day taking pictures and seeing things few Americans have seen face-to-face.  Red Square being large and open means the wind cut through every layer of clothing we had on and chilled us to the bone.  Brrrr.

About midnight we're back at the airport where we collectively decided to spend the night in a terminal cafe instead of 2-3 hours in a hotel room that costs $200 a night and is little more than Motel 6.  It's a nice and clean motel and fantastically close to the airport, but it is not worth the expense for such a short amount of time.

We stayed awake all night drinking overpriced coffee and water (I had a $6 bottle of water that was about 6 ounces in size - apparently Jerry Jones is here pricing stuff), laughing the hours away.  Later we catch a 5am flight to Munich and layover for five hours which we all agreed was a terrible idea, hindsight being twenty-twenty.

Eight hours later we're clearing customs in Washington and yours truly got the "privilege" of having his bags ripped apart by a fastidious customs official.  We made our connecting flight to DFW arriving about 8:15pm Saturday night, bone tired, and ready to leave airplanes once and for all for a long time.  However, from the book "If anything can go wrong it will!" we pulled up to the jetway but our expert pilot completely missed the yellow line and airport employees had to back the plane out and try again.  Oh yeah, did I mention the pilot was a woman?  That explains the mishap.  I fully expect my traveling companions (Julie and Rachael), my family, and friends will rip me to shreds for that comment.  I only have one thing to say, ladies.  Bring it.

We FINALLY get off the plane and make our way to the baggage claim area and it was there I saw the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. Two words describe her - stunningly beautiful.  I walked over for a closer look. She spotted me and a big grin spread across her face, as did mine, and we fell into each others arms.  I hadn't felt those arms since October 17th.  God knows it was good to be in her embrace again.

Now it's Monday morning.  I got up around 4am.  Looking at Facebook posts, it looks like Julie and David are up too.  We're still on Volgograd time and it'll take a few more days to shake it.  Looks like Julie is coming down with what Rachael and I have been fighting (a chest cold), and David fought before any of us.

17 days.  That's how long we were gone, 17 days.  Why on earth did we leave our families (and in Julie's case two kids) and bite off that much personal vacation to fly half-way around the world at our own expense to insert ourselves into a place where we don't speak the language and don't fully understand the cultural dynamics?  It's an easy answer and is only one word.  Love.

A man once wrote about a certain kind of love, a love we are supposed to model every day.  He said if we do things for other people without love, we're nothing but irritating noise.  He said the kind of love we're supposed to give people is patient and kind and not envious or prideful.  He said the greatest thing is love.  In fact, he said that kind of love even trumps faith and hope.  That's potent stuff.  Intoxicating.

We tried to give that kind of love by interweaving ourselves into the fabric of the lives of everyone we came in contact with in Russia.  When I say everyone, I do mean everyone.  Yes, we hit a few walls here and there, but undaunted and encouraging one another we plowed ahead to interweave ourselves into the very fiber of their lives, especially those who were beaten down by the grind of life.  We tried to teach hope, bring hope.  We tried to be the texture of a different kind of life.  We tried to be salt and light.

Thank you for your love, your encouragement, your prayers, your notes of encouragement, and not forgetting about us while we were in that most beautiful place called, Volgograd, Russia.

If you want to know more about our trip or why we go, just call us and we'll be glad to talk more.

I sign this letter with love and respect, and on behalf of the Russia (Autumn 2012) Team - Julie, Rachael, David, Rick, John, and yours truly.

Mike

The End