Live Adventurously

Last week I decided to join Facebook. I have spent many years resisting this but realised that if I wanted to keep up with news from Afghanistan this was the only way. Afghan friends and our group, Voices For Creative Nonviolence UK, use Facebook rather than email so I threw in the towel and joined up.

So far it has been a rewarding move. There are almost daily reports from Afghanistan and VCNCUK. I feel more connected and up to date. I also receive items from other groups with which I am involved, for example Quaker Asylum and Refugee Network and Friends’ House Moscow (Russian Quakers). News about resistance to war and other justice issues reach me through a small but carefully chosen group of friends who are local and who happen to be on Facebook.

There have been other advantages. First, family members are now in touch and I can be in touch with them. I’ve shed a few tears over some ofthe photos they share and love to see how my three great nieces and three great nephews are growing up.

Another lovely result is the number of people from my past who have been in touch. This has happened because I contacted a small number of people from different stages of my life and through them others got on touch. Some of these are people I knew since they were eleven! They are grown up now with their own families.

Because of my visual impairment I only work on the site on my desktop computer. I can’t imagine what it’s like using a ‘phone! A friend came round recently and explained the finer points of managing the site and also explained the rather strange vocabulary.

This morning I said good bye to a friend who is leaving Oxford. I’m really happy that we’ll be able to keep in touch on that giddy, garish, busy and brightly coloured screen which tests my powers of discernment.

I am really excited about returning to Perm this September. Oxford’s Russian twin city is really welcoming, it’s a bit like being in the north of England.

I enjoyed our visit last year but wanted to return as I felt that last year I had to spend a great deal of time coping with being visually impaired in new surroundings. I’ve written in an earlier piece about what it was like being a V.I.P. in Perm and I was certainly looked after.

This year I have offered to give conversation lessons with students at Perm State University, at whose invitation we are visiting. I’m preparing short texts for reading and discussion on The Street Kids’ School in Kabul, run by our friends the Afghan Peace Volunteers; the crisis in Calais and the wider question of asylum seekers, and something about the Arms Fair in London and the various groups opposing it. I could tell them something about Jeremy Corbyn as the election will take place while we’re there.
This year I’ve been learning Russian. It’s fascinating and also difficult. It will be fun trying it out in Russia! I’ve signed up to continue the course in September.

The most important thing about journeys and visits like this is that we, ordinary citizens, get a chance to talk to ordinary Russians. So much of the world’s ills are caused by physical borders and cultural barriers. We can break through both if we are willing.

Five years ago I moved into sheltered housing here in Oxford but continued spending time and working at St Francis House until the closure on 30 June. Over the past week or so, in the peace and quiet of this lovely little flat, I’ve been reading Dorothy Day’s diaries (1934-1980) and find them an unexpected companion in this time of change. I’ve had a print copy of the book for a few years but it was only when I found I could get a Kindle copy on my iPad mini that Dorothy’s words and thoughts were unlocked for me; I can no longer read normal print.

I’ve written earlier in this journal of my time as a Catholic Worker, the movement started by Dorothy and Peter Maurin in 1933, and although there is sadness around the closure of SFH, I am really grateful for my time spent in CW communities in Los Angeles, Washington D.C., New York and Oxford. Reading the diaries has brought back memories of my two stints in the U.S., one of three months and one of eighteen months. CW life for me began with reading ‘Loaves and Fishes’ by Dorothy in 1999 and reading ‘The Duty of Delight’ seems a fitting accompaniment to this period of transition.

Instead of reading the book chronologically, I began by reading the entries from 1970 to the end of Dorothy’s life in 1980. At the time of writing I’ve just completed 1934 to 1940. It’s interesting and moving to see how she was aware of the same difficulties, challenges and joys she experienced throughout her life. The entries are really personal and honest and reveal a genuine vulnerability in the life of a woman seen publicly as strong, determined and, at times, uncompromising.

Anyway, this is not a review but merely musings

Dorothy converted to Catholicism in her thirties and Peter Maurin was a great influence on her thinking. I think that from the earliest days of the CW she met, through Peter, many Catholic thinkers and writers who formed her thought, theology, spirituality and reading. She was avid to make up for lost time and she was always a voracious reader. I was amazed to find in her diaries mention of many of the classics of Catholic spirituality which I read during my noviciate. Some of these books really influenced me and I was delighted to find out how much Dorothy appreciated them. It occurs to me that, because Dorothy became a Catholic thirty years before the Second Vatican Council, most of her reading was written by priests and religious. Vatican II stressed the importance of the spirituality of the laity and since the sixties innumerable books of Catholic spirituality and theology have been written by lay people. In a beautiful irony, one of the most influential lay Catholics of the twentieth century IS Dorothy Day and her writings have inspired generations.

Dorothy also read fiction and loved listening to music on the radio. It’s wonderful to read in her diaries about how much she was affected by the classics of European and American literature. She always loved Russian writers and I was interested to learn that while Tolstoy and Dostoevsky were favourites from her youth, she found Chekhov spoke more to her in later life. This has inspired me to read more of his short stories.

It saddens me when peace activists tell me they don’t read fiction. For Dorothy, fiction, classic and modern, deepened her insight into the joys and sufferings of humanity. Me too!

It was the House of Hospitality, St. Francis House, which brought me to Oxford almost eleven years ago. The Oxford Catholic Worker community ran St. Francis House for twenty two years and it has been a joy to share in the work. Now things are changing and Clive and Mena, who own the house and started the work, are taking a different direction and hope that the house will continue to be a resource for the local community. They are wonderful people and all my love and prayers go with them as they embark on this new venture.

We told our guests, five asylum seekers, almost a year ago that the house would be closing. The long closure has been painful but also blessed. We have been reflecting on all the people who have lived at St. Francis House, guests and workers, and there have been so many inspiring people.

It seems a good time for me to put down some thoughts about what this closure has been like for me personally.

For some time now I’ve been aware that the work has been getting too much for me physically. I’m no longer young and my sight is failing. The closure of St Francis House has made me reflect on my life from now on. There are many positives in this, the main one being membership in the Society of Friends and being part of Oxford Quakers. Being a Quaker in Oxford opens up all sorts of opportunities for continuing the kind of work I’ve been doing as a Catholic Worker; resistance to war and warmaking, active work on behalf of marginalised people in Oxford and sharing in a worshipping community.

The last few months leading up to the closure of SFH were painful for me, mainly because of my concern about the guests and their future. I realise that I went through a genuine grieving and mourning period but certain things have contributed to my being able to turn this grief into positive and active joy.

First of all I am able to continue our weekly sandwich distribution to homeless people in the centre of Oxford. This has been part of SFH life for nine years and for five of those years we have been accompanied by a small but enthusiastic group of students. Food and drink preparation now happens at my flat and I feel a real sense of connection with SFH while carrying this out, especially as I’ve brought from SFH my favourite set of scales, my favourite tin for making shortbread and the big yellow teapot!

Secondly, I have been able to offer hospitality to one of our former guests during Ramadan. I was originally prepared to take two guests as I have a guest bed and the bedroom is big enough for two people to share for a short period, but this wasn’t necessary in the end.

There is a project in Oxford now which attempts to find accommodation for asylum seekers in spare rooms. I thought that I might be able to join this scheme by offering emergency accommodation for a couple of weeks. I don’t have a spare room but am happy to give up my bedroom for a short while and sleep in the sitting room. I thought it might be a good plan to ease myself into this and see if it worked, by offering accommodation to our young former guest, N., who had nowhere else to go and was planning to sleep on the streets. It has worked so far. It has been easy because N. and I know each other; it is summer and he is happy to spend time out of doors and seeing friends; observing Ramadan means he is often with his worship community and shares food with them after nightfall; he is on the list to take up accommodation in a spare room when one becomes available. I know it would be very different offering accommodation to a complete stranger but I think I might give it a go!

When the possibility of visiting Perm presented itself I thought, as I always do, ‘Will it be possible given that I am severely visually impaired?’ Well, I’m back to tell the tale so here’s how it went.

First of all I booked assistance at the airports in London and Moscow. This worked like a dream. From the moment I arrived at Heathrow I was placed in the care of staff who accompany passengers with disabilities through the airport and into the aeroplane. In Moscow it was the same and I was able to speed through immigration etc in a stress free fashion. The return journey was the same and I have nothing but praise for the staff in both cities who made the journey so much easier.

During the whole visit I had to depend on the help of my companions. In Afghanistan my companions shared out this assistance so that each day a different person took the initiative to help. This worked well in Russia too and sometimes my guide would ask someone else to offer their arm so that they could take photos or spend a bit longer looking at an interesting piece in a museum. I am really grateful for all the help Alison, Sue, Carole, Rico, Chris and John gave me as sometimes the pavements were uneven, and steps and staircases too. Not many buildings we visited were adapted for easy access and I know that people in wheelchairs have a very difficult life. I think there is legislation about accessibility but that comes from central government and the regions are not always able or willing to implement it.

My wonderful hosts, Danil and Olga, were terrific. I really enjoyed staying with them, and their inquisitive cat, in their apartment not far from the University. They are a young couple, he teaches physics and she works in the International Department at the university. They were so kind and considerate and made life simple in the flat. Both of them were happy to give me an arm when we went out and never failed to warn me of hazards in the way. This kindness gave me a lot of confidence.

Karen arranged a visit for me to the Perm Association for the Visually Impaired and Hearing Impaired. The Director is himself a V.I.P and the visit was most interesting as I learnt about the history of the association and the work they do. They gave me a wonderful DVD, made in 2013, which, although I don’t understand the speakers, gives an inspirational and comprehensive picture of the lives, challenges and accomplishments of V.I.P.s in the Perm Region. The film looks at all age groups, work and leisure and has several interviews with V.I.Ps. I’m going to ask a Russian speaking friend to watch the film with me to translate, although as I am learning Russian it’s good for me to watch alone to see if I can pick up the gist of the speakers.

Watching this documentary about V.I.P.s in Perm makes me realise that my visit to them only scratched the surface of what they do and I really want to return to learn more.

 

 

You may be wondering why I have suddenly included an essay in my journal.  Well, I have been finding it increasingly difficult to write on the WordPress page as I can’t in crease the font.  So I thought, ‘Why not cut and paste?’  And it worked!  Friends, you don’t need to read the essay but rejoice with me in this discovery.  It has opened up untold possibilities!

Is There Anything Distinctively ‘Russian’ About These Stories?

 

The stories under consideration in this essay all come from the nineteenth century and, while immersed in universal themes, they reflect in the unfolding of events aspects of Russian culture, society, landscape and climate which cast a special light on the unfolding of these themes. These works were written by Russians, about Russians and for Russians, so contain little explanation of customs, features of geography or social life. The universal themes are those of love, death, hatred, revenge, courage, mystery and spirituality.

Four of the stories deal with love and its destructive power. None of the protagonists in ‘First Love’, The Kreutzer Sonata’, ‘Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk’ nor ‘Grasshopper’ escapes unscathed, even the most culpable. Turgenev with Zinaida, Vladimir and his father, Tolstoy with Pozdmyshev, and Leskov with Katerina, reveal the destructive power of

obsessive love. The constraints of Russian society bring the unhappy lovers to breaking point. Vladimir’s father in
‘First Love’ is of higher social standing than Zinaida and this contributes to her acceptance of his domination. By contrast, the bored Katerina in ‘Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk’ has power over the workman Sergei as she is the wife of a merchant of standing. Boredom and shallowness are the characteristics of Chekhov’s Olga, which lead her to deceive her doctor husband. Both Olga and Katerina are products of a narrow provincial life which often trapped women in Imperial Russia where there was little to occupy them outside the home. It is difficult for the English reader to appreciate the isolating nature of Russia’s vast landmass and the unforgiving climate which made travel impossible for many months of the year.

Tolstoy and Chekhov in’The Cossacks’ and ‘The Steppe’ give us some of the most beautiful and evocative descriptions of two vastly different areas of Russian landscape. Even more, the two stories are about two outsiders, Olenin and Yegorushka; one a soldier off to duty in the Caucasus, and the other a young boy leaving home for the first time to go to school. Olenin is typical of young wealthy Russians of the period who, bored by life and weighed down by debt, seek a new life in the army in the strange land of the Cossacks. His journey is related by Tolstoy in many descriptive passages which convey the effect on the impressionable young man of the dramatic landscape:
The rapid motion of the troika along the even road made the mountains seem to be running along the horizon,their pinkish summits gleaming in the rising sun. At first the mountains only astonished Olenin,; and then they gladdened him; but then, as more and more intently he studied the chain of snowy mountains that rose, not from other black peaks but from the steppe, growing aloft and fleeting away, he gradually began to penetrate this beauty and to feel the mountains with his senses.

Similarly, Chekhov describes the strange, alien mystery of the steppe as it appears to Yegorushka:

When he awoke the sun was already rising. Screened by an ancient burial mound it was striving to spread its light all over the world, eagerly casting its rays everywhere and flooding the horizon with gold. Yegorushka felt that it was in the wrong place, for yesterday it had risen behind him and now it was very much further to the left. And the entire landscape was different from yesterday’s. The hills had vanished and wherever you looked a brown cheerless plain stretched away endlessly.

As well as the effect of the landscape on the spirits of Olenin and Yegorushka, the people both characters meet are influential in their progress. The rich array of characters in both stories are typically Russian and in both tales the strangeness of the behaviour and customs alarms and yet captivates the protagonists. Among others in the Cossack community Olenin meets Luka and their relationship is complex. They are both rivals for the captivating Maryanka
but their expectations and misunderstandings of each other confuse and perplex them

Yegorushka, a frightened yet inquisitive boy, when finding himself alone among the drivers delivering wool, makes friends with most of them, despite his shyness. Their life is hard and tedious, bound by the immense distances they have to travel over the vast steppe and Yegorushka is at the same time terrified and drawn to them.

Pantely, who fascinates Yegorushka, embodies a typical Rusian trait which occurs often in different characters in the stories, that of a fondness for storytelling. He tells tales to while away the long evenings after a hard day’s travel. Daddy Yeroshka too tells Olenin stories of his life as a young Cossack. Storytelling is used in “First Love”, ‘The Kreutzer Sonata’ and ‘The Sealed Angel’ but in these works the stories told are the main story. This device of stories within stories is a common one in Russian shorter fiction.

The journeys made by Olenin and Yegorushka are journeys of discovery and often delight. Not so the journey made by Katerina, Sergei and their fellow prisoners to the desolate wastes of Siberia in ‘Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk’. Exile to Siberia figures much in Russian fiction and even in Russia today. As well as the harshness and heartbreak in Leskov’s
story, Chekhov too presents a picture of penal life in ‘Murder’. Chekhov’s account is based on real life observation by the author himself, of Sakhalin Island.

‘Murder, and ‘ The Sealed Angel’ illustrate another important aspect of Russian nineteenth century life, religion. ‘The Sealed Angel’ tells the story of a group of itinerant workmen who are Old Believers, as is Pantely in ‘The Steppe’. Old Believers were a sect which renounced reforms in the Orthodox church and developed their own way of worship. These masons carried around their treasured icons and it is the story of one of these which Leskov tells. Icons are a major part of Orthodox worship and Old Believers took the reverence of icons to a higher level. It is Leskov’s skill as a writer which draws the reader into this strange tale of an outcast sect and engages our sympathy; we really care about the fate of the Angel:

And heating the stick of sealing wax he jabbed the boiling resin, still flaming, right into the angel’s face!My dear sirs,don’t hold it against me if I can’t even try to describe what happened when the gentleman poured the stream of boiling resin onto the face of the angel and, cruel man that he was,raised the icon up so as to boast of how he’d managed to spite us. All I remember is that the bright divine face was red and sealed, and the varnish, which had melted slightly under the fiery resin, ran down in two streams,as if it were blood mixed with tears…

Chekhov’s”Murder’ draws us into the chaotic life of people whose religious beliefs and practices are even more removed from Orthodoxy. Yakov’s obsessions cause him to murder his cousin yet he finds peace and a right relationship with God in the sufferings of penal life in Siberia.

In these eight stories we meet people from varied sections of Russian society in the nineteenth century. We meet them
in varied urban and rural settings and through them learn a little about life in Imperial Russia. Yet, as with all great
storytelling we feel, to differing degrees, connected to these characters and we care about what happens to them. They are living out the joys and, even more, the struggles
of life and even if, for them, this is in the context of Russia, their actions and responses resonate across centuries and continents.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Ivan Turgenev: ‘First Love’ from First Love and Other Stories, trans. Richard Freeborn, O.U.P. 1982

Leo Tolstoy: ‘The Cossacks” from The Cossacks and Other Stories, trans. David McDuff, Penguin Classics 2006

Leo Tolstoy: ‘The Kreutzer Sonata’ trans. David McDuff, Penguin 2007

Nikolai Leskov; ‘Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk’ and ‘ The Sealed Angel’ from The Enchanted Wanderer and Other Stories, trans. Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky, Vintage Books

Anton Chekhov: ‘The Steppe’ from The Steppe and Other Stories 1887-1891, trans. Ronald Wilks, Penguin Classics 1984

Anton Chekhov: ‘Grasshopper’ and ‘Murder’ from Ward No. 6 and Other Stories 1892-1895, trans. Ronald Wilks, Penguin Classics 2002

Ronald Hingley: Russian Writers and Society 1825-1904, World University Library 1967

The adventure for me started with catching the Airline bus around the corner from my flat in Oxford.  I felt a mixture of excitement and apprehension, not unusual for me!  The air travel to and from Russia was what one would expect.  Although I’m not a frequent flyer, I have done five long journeys by air; to Cameroon, Madagascar, the United States (twice) and Afghanistan, and airports and aeroplanes still have a novelty value.  I’ll write later about the experience of travelling as a visually impaired person but I want to focus here on the adventure of travelling on a Russian train.

We flew to Moscow but then took a train to Perm.   Taking this train transported us into the exotic, mysterious and evocative experience that is Russia.   The overland journey took a little less than twenty four hours.  Imagine my delight when I discovered, several weeks before we set out, that the journey was, in fact, the first day of the Trans Siberian Railway journey.  After landing in Moscow we went for a meal at a small restaurant near the railway station and then, around ten o clock, boarded the train.   The train seemed large, shiny, imposing and serious, compared to our brightly coloured, sometimes dingy, and somewhat toy like trains.  We had to climb up steps to enter the carriage which made me think of the train I often used to take between Washington D.C. and Baltimore.

Every carriage on our Russian train had its own attendant who was responsible for cleanliness, providing bedding, a simple meal and a seemingly endless supply of cups of tea which we were able to buy from her small shop/office near the door.  I slept really well that night; the movement of the train rocked me to sleep and we woke quite late, about nine , and prepared to enjoy the prospect of twelve hours speeding eastward through Russia to our destination.  The journey gave our group plenty of opportunity to get to know each other and those who had travelled frequently in Russia were able to share experiences and advice.  In between conversations we gazed out of the window at the scenery speeding by.

Much of the countryside we went through was forest, endless forrest it sometimes seemed, but also beautiful and restful.  I think the trees of these early autumn forests were mainly birch and firs.  The sun shone in the clear blue sky and we were able to step down from the train now and again as it stopped at some stations for maintainance.  At these stops, vendors sold ice cream, other snacks and souvenirs from stalls at the side of the track.

At the Moscow station, on the train and standing at the side of the track on our extended stops, my mind often turned to Anna Karenina.  It wasn’t just her tragic end but the fact that trains and train journeys played an important part in the novel, as in much of Russian literature.  I think this connection with trains and train journeys in literature added to my growing sense of really being in Russia.  Coming from a tiny island I was amazed and awed by the size of Russia, and we crossed only a small part of it.  The idea of making the Russian part of our journey by train was inspired, probably Karen’s idea, and it certainly gave a real sense of travelling far to reach our destination.

Of course, at the end of our stay we took the train again, but I’ll write about that when I write about Moscow.

 

It’s now a few weeks since we returned form our visit  to Perm, Russia and I now feel ready to write about the impressions made on me by this remarkable, beautiful, mysterious and hospitable country.   In this piece I’m just going to outline first impressions and then hope to develop the chosen themes, a little like the pieces on Afghanistan written last year.

Since our return I’ve been in touch with the others and we have all been suffering from jet and train lag and some of us have had colds and coughs.  By ‘us’ I mean seven people who visited Perm as part of the Perm/Oxford twinning link.  We were a diverse group and I learnt a great deal from my travelling companions on our long journey and many outings made in Perm.  Some spoke Russian, some were regular visitors and all had a fascination for the country.

I’m hoping to write about travelling on a Russian train, religion and culture, water, visual impairment and other disabilities, Perm State University and our hosts, and what ever else springs to mind.!

Two of us had no Russian at all and tonight we are signed up for a beginners’ Russian course.

Our two week stay in Perm has left me with a desire to explore the riches of this vast and paradoxical country.  Whether I am able to return remains to be seen but yesterday I signed up for a course at Woodbrooke, the Quaker Study Centre in Birmingham, on Quakers in Russia.  This seems a good way to proceed and perhaps I’ll be able to make contact with Russian Quakers.

We have just finished the sixth Peace News Summer Camp.  For five days we spent time relaxing, sharing , listening, singing, reciting poetry and lots of other good things.  For this post, however, I want to focus on a workshop we had talking about the Afghan Peace Volunteers.  The best thing about it was that we not only talked about them, we talked  to them!

Imagine a sunny August day.  We are in a cheery white tent on a tranquil Suffolk organic farm.  Sitting on hay bales we gather to learn more about ordinary people in Afghanistan, their hopes and fears.  We have a simple smartphone and with it we are able to speak to the Afghan Peace Volunteers.  The connection is, at first, tenuous but eventually we have an uninterrupted half hour conversation.

Because the connection is unpredictable we first hear from the APV who, through the splendid interpreting of Hakim, share with us their concerns about war situations around the world.  They have an extraordinary capacity to see a wider picture all the time.  While painfully conscious of their own situation, they never forget those who are suffering elsewhere, be it Syria, Gaza or Ukraine.  They have the open heartedness to feel with the sufferings of innocent people wherever they are, and place responsibility for the suffering firmly in the hands of the superpowers.  The constant plea is that governments look at what they are doing and work together to create a peaceful and just world.  They are clear that there can be no peace without justice.

Our workshop participants ask about the environmental costs of war in Afghanistan and how they feel about the removal of foreign troops.       Hakim has a lot to say about environmental damage and this topic is going to be followed up by the camper who asked the question.  While I was in Afghanistan many people expressed fear of the resumption of civil war after the withdrawal of troops but the other side to this question is that the troops did not provide safety during the time of occupation so perhaps the withdrawal will not make too much difference.  What is striking is that all these issues are very real to the people we are talking to; they have suffered recently from nearby attacks from bombers.

The APVs present at the Skype call are male and female and are articulate and impassioned.  They value such conversations and do not want to be forgotten.  They want us to share their story and tell people about their hopes and fears.  Technology links our serene Suffolk field with war torn Kabul and I know those present in the tent are deeply moved by the conversation.

Other campers took copies of the VCNVUK newsletter and ten people bought blue scarves.  These scarves are embroidered with the word BORDERFREE in English and Dari and publicise the Borderfree campaign on which the APV are working.  Money raised from sale of the scarves will go to the sewing project which makes duvets to be distributed in winter by the APV to families in Kabul.  The APV use all the tools of social media to spread the word about their life and work and my hope is that PN camp participants will use these platforms to get to know our beloved Afghan friends in Kabul.