Tuesday, June 19, 2007

A Fuzzy Head and a Sore Arse (My Triumphant Return)

ceann cipíní orm ar maidin. My Belarussian tales of joy and wonder will be recounted in time, but this morning (afternoon?) I'm too shaky to make sense. The trip was amazing though, and at the risk of sounding like a soppy socks-an-sandals-wearing do-gooder, I have to say that I feel very privileged to have been a part of it.

I didn't do any cycling though. (The sore arse was as a result of some nice lady doctor and a syringe full of antihistimine)

And I managed to learn only two words of Russian over the course of the week, a poor result indeed for someone who considers herself to be a cunning linguist. Tellingly, they were "thanks" (spasiba!) and "cheers" (sounds like "nostarovia" but I've no clue how to spell it).

I learned that I can drink straight vodka if I put my mind to it, and that I have quite a goo on me for champagne.

I discovered that I am a more patient and more compassionate person than I thought, and that if I take anything with me from my trip, it should be that.

I'm off to the doctor now for antibiotics, tetanus boosters and a hug.