I've been here for a week and to be honest the time has flown by. I've been fishing, getting drunk, swimming in the nearby river, exercising, getting drunk, eating good food, playing chess and getting drunk (which is a total fail if you combine the two). The food here is totally fresh, the air is clean and the sun is bright. Most importantly, I have spent all my free time with my family and I have never been in such a loving and wonderful environment as the one that surrounds my grandparent's flat. The affection does not feel forced at all, there is no fakeness about it and there is not even the hint of aggravation from anyone. All in all it's wonderful seeing my family and living in the flat I (partly) grew up in again, even if it's only for 2 weeks a year. It's strange being in the flat and seeing all my old stickers that I put up as a kid, and remembering where I slept, where dad slept, where my grandparents slept and where I sat around playing with my little panda bear and transformer (my two favourites).
My grandparents themselves are a curious old pair. Grandad has spent the last 40 years working in a local brewery and when he's not working he generally sits in a corner watching the TV and mummbling occassionally about different topics of interest- which for him usually constitute of politics and football.. what a lad. My nan is a massive ball of love and stubborness. I remember when she met my first girlfriend- the minute she walked through the door my nan sped towards her, grabbed her cheeks and squeezed them together, kissing her whole face and mummbling in Russian about what a wonderful girl she was. When she was younger, she played in the Soviet basketball team and after that worked two jobs and was constantly doing something to provide for the family. She's extremely strict and stubborn, but only in matters where she feels something isn't proper (like me coming home after 10pm..) so it's pretty tolerable- at least you can calm her down with a kiss, a smile and a few kind words.
Unfortunately stressful decades have taken their toll on her and she has now adopted the shape and texture of a basketball, so she doesn't leave the flat too much. She is the epitome of the Russian farmer woman stereotype: big, bossy and in your face. She could definitely beat me up. My nan is the sort of person that has no idea what depression even means, and thinks that dyslexia is a type of mental retardation. In fact the only time I have seen her down this trip is when we talk about the past- about when I was a kid constantly between houses because both my parents had gone to England, and about all the things she's had to deal with. But I'm not going to bore you with my life story.
I like this place as a little getaway from London. There are no wankers walking around feeling that dressing up is the only way they can impose on you what a wonderful, intelligent person they are. Guys don't act like bitches and everyone is straightforward. People like chatting casually in the streets, and there is a general openess about emotions that is quite refreshing. There's a river and a forest at my doorstep, and my family and family friends all around.
Overall, life is good. I feel content being with my family and at my roots. I wish I could talk about all the other stuff that I've been talking about with people here, who I've met and what I've been asked to do. Oh well. I think I am off to meet a man about a dog again tonight.
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