no bread, banned books, good life

I love history. I've always enjoyed it. One of my favorite things about it has always been imagining the people that were a part of each historical event. While each book of history always includes a retelling from a certain perspective of the events, there is something about that firsthand retelling that sticks with me. I will remember forever the stories from the Holocaust; not only because they were chillingly evil, but also because they have been recounted to me in person by people who were actually there. I was never in Vietnam either, but some war heroes' dramatic stories about the delicate balance between self preservation and murder can transport me there instantly. And I've never walked the deserted and arid streets of Darfur, but sitting for hours with people who have been a part of that struggle from the beginning gives me a piece of ownership in that tragedy.

Today I spent time with two of my favorite women here; one, in her early 40's has become like a mother to me. She is very well educated and has spent the majority of her life working very hard for everything that she has gotten. The second woman is in her early 60's. She, like the first lady, is quite educated and has a huge bank of book knowledge from which she pulls often. She also works hard, but she has not had quite as many opportunities as the first lady. Today, as I met with each of them separately, we discussed life in the USSR, during the Perestroika, and after the USSR fell. Here are some of the highlights.

With regard to Books: Both women talked about the value of books. While most of them were banned during the 80's, these women went to great lengths to find illegal books, just for the purpose of strengthening the mind. They, to this day, have a love for books that is unlike many that I have known. They had to work hard for their jaunts into fiction. There's was not an easy stroll to the local Barnes and Noble or to the city library. Instead, it was a long trail of dark alleys and friends of friends. Each one distributing not just words on a page, but the chance to continue learning, the chance maybe to escape, the chance for just a moment to be famous, or great, or just content with life. I thought that in our day of tv, and everything being made into a film, that this was very interesting.

With regard to life then: It was hard. I dont think I realized how recently the people that I spend the majority of my time with had to fight with neighbors for slices of bread- an amount that was supposed to last for the entire month, for the entire family. I dont think I fully understood the idea of suffering and struggling for EVERYTHING that a family had. There were no new clothes, no surprise trips to the candy story, no asking mom or dad to buy something extra at the market. There was nothing; there was no money; there was no way to get money because it hadnt been printed yet. There was no system in place to stabilize anything. People did what they had to do to survive. When I asked each lady what that meant, they both got very quite. I'm sure it didnt mean life or death situations, but for two women, both of whom feel very comfortable with me, to go silent, it couldnt have been pretty.

With regard to life now: They have an incredible amount of faith and hope in the future. It cant get any worse than not being able to eat for days.

I walked away from those two conversations extremely tired. These two women are beautiful; the lines on their faces that before our conversations today just indicated older age now are markers of a life of struggle, and a triumph over oppression and looming defeat. These women have worked hard for everything- the right to proudly embrace their ethnicity, the right to live in a country that is controlled by them, even the right to work. But more than that, they have worked oh so hard to maintain the beauty that is intrinsic in a true woman.

What is my point? I know that my last few posts have been ramblings... I think my point is this: I'm starting to understand struggle, not in terms of my own reality, because in that realm I really have little of my own struggle to offer, but in terms of the sufferings of others. I spent the rest of the day in quiet humility. What a blessing it has been to have been sheltered from a life of overt pain and hardship. So what that my apartment is broken: So what that the heat doesnt work and the whole place floods... I have food on the table (and in the refrigerator, and in the cabinets, and on top of every surface...), I can buy bread. So no complaints from this Southern girl who is living in Central Asia... I have no right