Russians, Orthodoxy, and Hagia Sophia

Dear Devoted Readers,

I'm writing from the unexpectedly free internet-equipped Ataturk airport in Istanbul. What bountiful duty free.

It's amazing how the longest journeys start with the first step, and sometimes that first step is full of the pungent aroma of what's to come.

Great flight out from Detroit to Wash, DC. Sat next to a 14 year old Albanian kid in the "Albanian families only" section of the plane. The group was full of laughter in this mix of Italian and Slavic that is Albanian. I asked one of the fathers what languages Albanian was related to. He said there were none.

Anyway, this kid was a huge fan of flying, and in this innocent way would tell me about running around the house in flight and how airtravel was better than rollercosters. He's also a varsity soccer player at Troy high school and a geography bowl state finalist. Needless to say we hit it off. He had this typical adolescent balance of innocence with the guilty grin coming from his pimply face that said "i"m going to drink and smoke and have sex on the Adriatic all summer." All Albanians prssed their noses to the windows all flight long. He told me he loved history and I said I was a history teacher a few years ago. He then told me some sort of bastardized Albanian epic history tradition of great conquerors who beat back the Turks time and time again. A good kid.

DC to Frankfurt saw me get sandwiched, this time in a group of fifty "young leaders" from teh former Soviet Union who had spent the academic years in podunk locations throughout the US, like hickville Toledo outskirts, and some West Virginia town that wasn't Morgantown or Charleston. So there I was, in a sea of sixteen-seventeen year old Russian speakers, all wearing teal blue teeshirts testifying to their nascent leadership abilities. I was fortunate to land between Olga and Lyulya, from Irkutsk and Tiumen respectively.

Olga had spent the year in a small Ohio town at a high school with 400 kids, made it to Columbus for a Swedish heavy metal show but other than that never traveled anywhere; not Cleveland, not Detroit. But she was a sweet girl and very curious, and had that wise-beyond-her-years way of speaking a second language, in perfectly formed, dense yet wooden sentences, such as "I do not believe you can choose your path" or "religion is only a foundation for moral behaviors." The girls spoke wonderful English, said how idiotic American high schools were, hwo their English grammar declined through the year, and, in response to my question, assured me that Russian teenagers think reading is cool. On the whole my line was: yeah but, you didn't see cosmopolitan, liberal, well-educated America. And hers was: yeah, but I saw American America. Ouch.

Olga is inclined towards Druidism and religions without too much doctrine. She thinks the mentally handicapped should be separated from the rest of society. She loves sloppy joes and salad dressings (not together) and is a fan of graffiti art. In fact, she think she was stuck with a lousy host family because on her application to the program she meant this interest, which may have scared away a lot of small town families.

We didn't get a proper goodbye or exchange of emails since I was off to make a connection, but I assure you Vladimir Putin himself couldn't have chosen such intelligent and curious young leaders. The future of Russia is in good hands.

Random and unexpected trip to the Hagia Sophia in Istanbul during my layover. I bought a quick visa, saluted Senor Ataturk, and hopped on the light rail. Within 45 minutes I was staring at the blue mosque on one side and the Hagia Sophia on the other, meanwhile I tried to avoid the rail cars, taxis, and teh souvenir hawkers. I'll seee if I have what it takes to attach photos to this thing. In short, it's the grandest interior space I've ever been in. It's like being in the Yosemite valley of holy spaces. the pictures don't really do it justice, but they do prove it is for real, which is what the blog is all about.

Isn't it amazing how body odor worldwide smells more or less the same? After a while it's not a reek, but just a pungent sort of coating, like an extra protective layer. I smelled a bit of Central Aisa in teh rail car and will hopefully get some of the real thing soon. I also intent to return home with a bit of my own odor-armor as well, be warned.

I didn't take any photos of me, so you'll have to trust it was in fact my camerawork.

My next entry will hopefully be from the Dushe.

See you,
Charles