Yuliya's Father's Cottage Part 2

We enter through the glassed-in porch And I feel even more at ease, Remembering that as a child My own room once had been a porch But there are even more windows here With glass on all three sides. Old curtain rods hang empty and The room is flooded bright with light (Although it's threatening to rain) . But Vera quickly starts a fire That takes the edge off of the day And puts some water on for tea. Simple things are important to Yuliya's mother. The house has been vacant for awhile And requires some 'sprucing up.' We move some simple furniture outside And Vera and I begin to sweep. It brings me joy to lend a hand Thus freeing Yuliya for her books (She is studying for exams) But Igor seems uncomfortable with this (Perhaps it is that I'm a guest Or maybe this is woman's work) , And asks me to accompany him So we walk to a nearby lake. We walk for almost half a mile And pass quite a variety of homes. There are summer homes both large and nice And many much more basic ones (Though none of them appear the same) . It's surprising the community's so large For there's no real shopping close at hand And one must carry what one needs From more distant towns when he comes (For many people live away) . As we emerge from a ravine That once served as a road The small lake stretches out before us. Two men sit in their row boat fishing Their rods as motionless as the day is still. The lake bends lazily to the right And vanishes behind a point of trees. Even as we approach the lake, The whole scene could be a painting Hung on the wall of a vast museum (Except for the ripples of a fish That disappear long before they reach shore) . Igor and I share my camera Photographing each other With a quiet reverence for this place That would be no different If we spoke the same language. As we return we stop at a house Which does not advertise itself at all But serves as store and meeting place. Its dusty shelves are nearly bare And what we find of little use But Igor meets someone he knows And so we visit for a spell. The cottage floors are mopped and clean And fresh wildflowers decorate the table When we arrive, Yuliya is at her books. Igor sets out a cot and blanket for me And I lay out in the yard for a while Under a cold and cloudy sky Snug in my blanket Until it starts to rain. I dash to get the cot inside And Igor brings in the last few pieces Of furniture from the yard. As he brings in a primitive table Whose legs and braces still look Like the twigs they once were (Though the bark is gone) , He says something to me in Russian Which I don't understand But his eyes joke about quality furniture As he sets the table down with a bang. Vera serves us a fine lunch of boiled pork, Dark bread, tomatoes, cucumbers, and tea. We listen to the rain fall on the roof And pour out of the gutters into One of two large barrels Put there for this purpose. It is a time for me to marvel, To marvel at where I find myself (How strange to feel so much at home So far away from all I know) , To marvel at the generosity of friends. Brian Johnston Part 2 of 2: A trip to the Russian countryside in 1990