Lost in Translation

Jim and Sally took me to my apartment to drop my things off and then we all headed back to their place so that I’d know where the live and so that Amy could get some shut eye.

So I started back for my apartment. It’s only 15 minutes walking from their house. Turns out though, that I really didn’t know where I was going. I was determined to find it on my own though – so I just kept looking. After about two hours not finding it (I’m not lost mind you – just can’t find the apartment!), I finally broke down and bought a map from the local hotel (which turns out to be just 2 blocks from the apartment).

My address is 57 Sverdlova #49. So I found Sverdlova street on the map (about two blocks from the hotel and got moving. Turns out though that Sverdlova street used to be longer than it is now. I was heading in the WRONG direction. My apartment building (called a Dom or house here) is actually located on Xoxryakova Street. Can you believe it?! I ended up after 4.5 hours at Jim and Sally’s apartment to have them bring me back. I was a hot, sweaty, muddy, rained on mess of a lost puppy dog at that point.

The really amazing thing though was that I wasn’t mad about being lost or that I couldn’t do it. I was really more just a time to be thinking about how dependent I am now. It’s like being a child. I had to ask people for help, deal with the rejection of the ‘general’ unhelpful nature of the stranger culture here, and finally come to grips that I’m ‘not all that.’ It was really a humbling morning (not to mention that I’d only slept for about 5 hours of the last 36). But I’m glad for the experience – plus I know where to find the grocery store and the local fruit stand now!