“It’s awfully early for the sun to be up,” I thought as I walked to the marshrootka stop in front of the culture house. It was 5:30 and the sun had finished rising a full 15 minutes ago. Even though it had only been a few months since I last made that walk through town, it seemed like a lifetime ago. I noticed a new magazine that had opened and another building, now finished, that had been under construction in the fall.
I thought about leaving my host mom again. It was easier this time. Maybe it’s because leaving home is always hardest the first time. Maybe it was because this time I know for certain when I will be back. Even though she loaded me down with 10 pounds of jam and a liter of beverage plus an assortment of booterbroad, I didn’t notice any extra burden. Things sent with love are easier to carry, I think.
I boarded the marshrootka and picked a seat. It was the same vehicle I rode into town on two days earlier. As we pulled out of town, I closed my eyes and tried to picture what it would look like when I returned with the town draped in green at last.