Writing from a chilly apartment in Kiev a few days before the anticipated turning-on of central heat, I’ve got my kitty laying across my ankles warming my feet while I warm her belly, and this laptop warms my lap. I find myself again returning to this blog after a long silence and lots of changes. And even as I try to think through the path that brought me to this point, the red blinking light on my blackberry pulls me away to read and answer something else.
TJ got a job in Kiev. I competed for a great spot in Tbilisi, but lost it to a woman who vacated her seat in Kiev. Through the musical chairs of bureaucratic rotation, we have managed to land in the same city for the next few years. Great luck! The only catch has been that my landing was six weeks ago, and TJ’s and children’s arrival is still three weeks off.
So I am now in a strange no-man’s-land of a nearly-realized dream. My days, the endless email cycle of several communicating time zones, is peopled by real and imagined exchanges. Me in clanking ministry board room pulling out cards and making an introduction, me in office car chatting about the cold, me chasing the kids on their bikes through a park, me introducing Yoshi to the old man at the music institute who teaches violin (I have started introducing myself to such people, and every introduction adds more dimension to my virtual world), me sitting along the benches at the side of the youth chess hall watching Ernest play, me quietly locking up a silent apartment and heading again to work. In my long walks at nine or ten back to the apartment, I am in my mind’s eye returning at five and in sunshine.