winter wonderland

Winter finally arrived this week, with fresh snow and frosty air. Now our life in Russia feels a little more legit. In honor of this, my former students Yuri and Sasha took me skiing in Park Druzhby (Friendship) on Monday morning. Now, I can hold my own in downhill skiing, but cross-country is another matter. It was my third time ever, the first being an experimental trek around the Williams soccer fields three years ago, and the second being last winter with Dan at Turtle Pond in Vermont (where I spent most of the time tangled in branches, my limbs splayed at odd angles.) I can say this: I am a consistent skiier. Every time I pick up any speed at all, I fall over. I doubt this is just because I'm uncoordinated. It's a mental thing. These skis seem so thin and insubstantial - especially with my heels unattached and sliding off left and right - that rather than risk slamming helplessly into a tree, I bail out. Nevertheless, my interest is piqued, and I will try again. Plus, the park is postcard-lovely, and I haven't exactly been doing anything but sitting around inside lately. In the course of our loop we were passed by many serious skiiers, and we ourselves passed several ambling babushkas and a few moms with strollers. Sasha's a really good skiier and helped me get the hang of it; Yuri made me feel a little better by stumbling magnificently in the final stretch. Thick snow started falling just about the time when we reckonned we could make it to Moscow if we kept on for a few days, but instead we returned to our thermos of hot, sugary tea. I examined my new bruises and decided they were quite worth it.