You're going...where?

When people ask why in the world I want to go to Russia, I’m not really sure how to respond without sounding like a blathering idiot who makes big decisions such as going to Russia on a whim.

“Because I’m a Russian major…” is what I usually lead off with.

“But...why did you choose Russian? And what are you even going to do with your Russian?” most often comes next.

This is where it gets tricky.

How do I describe why I’m so drawn to Russia when I’m not really sure myself? Honestly (and this is where the blathering idiot part comes in), I think I chose Russian because it has such a unique, pretty alphabet. Look at it: Я люблю Россию. For all you know I could’ve just insulted your mother, but who cares when it looks so COOL?! …so it might not be the most intellectual, awe-inspiring answer to the question, but I’m pretty sure the Cyrillic alphabet is what first drew me to Russian. I also became obsessed with Russian when I saw The Hunt For Red October – the song that plays during the credits makes me want to cry. In a good way.

Well that’s all fine and dandy, but why do I actually want to go to Russia, to that far away, freezing land with danger, corruption, and communists lurking around every corner? Because, silly, those are called stereotypes and I’m not scared of them. Besides, I like the cold. In all seriousness, Russia intrigues me; the history, the people, the food, everything. Russia seems to be a country most people have their minds made up about. They see the actions Russia’s leaders take and then revert back to the days of building bomb shelters and acting like McCarthy. I want to make up my own mind. I want to understand why, not just see what.

After trying to explain why I chose Russian and why I’m going to Russia, the question of what I’m going to do with what I learn still looms in the air. The short answer is work for the government, which yields the “What, like…become a spy?” response. I’ll just leave it at that. After all, if I told you more…I’d have to kill you.

So, there it is: the most solid response I’ve ever given in response to why Russia. While in Russia, I’ll try my best to come up with a better answer as well as keep this blog updated fairly frequently. No promises, though.

I’m eighteen days away from getting on that plane. Eighteen days. Years of waiting have dwindled down to eighteen little days.

Bring it on.