Moscow is my campus

The other day at work, while translating a document related to Dostoevsky, my coworker Inga took the time to explain some aspects of Russian history to me so that I could understand what exactly I was translating. As she explained to me some of the facets of the Great Schism, she made the comment, "Sharisa, you're going to know Russian history so well." And she and I laughed a bit. I thought about the conversations we'd already had about history and culture, but simultaneously pondered how much history Russia has. Inga is a wonderful teacher and mentor for me. And I don't know if I'll ever be able to claim that I know Russian history well, with all of its complexity and beauty and challenges. But, with the help of some wonderful Russian friends and the monuments and museums that surround me, I'm working in that direction.

And I've realized that there is no better place for me to be studying it than right here--right in Moscow where so much of this history took place, where I can talk to people who lived through it, or were taught it from the time they were young.

So Inga had a point.

And I'm learning more than I dreamed I would during this time while Moscow is my campus.

Through political conversations with native Russians, I've gained a deeper understanding for the way that they see the world. I've come to better understand what it means to be Russian. And I'm always grateful that, no matter how different our political opinions may be, we always come to the consensus that we are still people--we are still the same even if we come from different government. Having now lived in America, Ukraine, and Russia, I can't claim to perfectly understand all of the facets of those political relationships. But I will say that understand it better now than ever before. And I will always be grateful for this understanding.

And I've had countless adventures in Russian Orthodox churches, ranging from the iconic St. Basil's Cathedral, to the Church of the Assumption (where Russian tsars had their coronations for hundreds of years), to the unknown church down the street from me. I've attended Mass in a beautiful Catholic cathedral, with the service in both Russian and German.

Me inside St. Basil's Cathedral
Church of the Assumption

And I've entered the Moscow Kremlin. I've seen Lenin inside his tomb. I've walked the hallowed halls of the WWII museum dedicated to those who gave their lives in that great struggle for peace and freedom. I've stood in front of countless statues and memorials, pondering the greatness of those who have gone before.


On the bridge to enter the Kremlin
The Hall of Glory in the WWII museum. Celebrating the victory of the Allies.
Sevastopol--Hero City
And so, I will be forever grateful to Moscow for teaching me this summer--through her museums, her churches, her books, and, above all, her inhabitants.

I love this campus.



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