Konstantin and Vera Stankevich visited us yesterday, the first time we’d seen them since they returned from their epic travels to Estonia, Russia, Belarus, and Italy. We had such a fun visit! Vera and Konstantin were chock full of stories — funny stories, interesting stories, curious stories, adventure stories, and even a herioc ice-cream eating story. It was obvious from their faces and their enthusiasm that they had a wonderful time on the entire trip, even the Belarus part (which we were more than a little worried about, due to the political situation there).
For Konstantin and Vera, part of the motive for the visit was to see Miki, our field spaniel puppy (or “poppy", as Vera would say in writing <smile>). Miki was shy with them for, oh, five or six seconds — then he was his normal bounding, playing, full-of-energy self. Konstantin got a good “group” picture will all three of our field spaniels looking at him — but getting them to stand still for that photo was a lot of work, and a lot of laughs.
Vera presented Debbie with three ball caps — one from Belarus (where “native” ball caps are very rare), one from Estonia, and one from Italy. She had a good story about the one from Belarus. It seems that ball caps aren’t real popular there in the first place, and the few that do exist all seem to be foreign-themed. In desperation, she enlisted all the members of Konstantin’s family (the reason they were in Belarus) to locate one. She painted a verbal picture of hordes of Stankeviches, scouring stores far and wide, in search of the elusive genuinely Belarusian ball cap. And they found one!
Recently I purchased (on eBay) a Soviet anemometer (a device for measuring wind speed). I couldn’t resist — it was only $4, and it was an interesting looking gadget, typically Russian with its massive, over-built design. When I got it, it came with what appeared to be a manual — but entirely in Russian, of course. I don’t read a word of Russian, so I took advantage of Konstantin and Vera’s visit to get some translation. This turned into something completely unexpected for me: a trip down memory lane for Konstantin and Vera (who both grew up in the Soviet Union) that had them laughing hysterically as they tried to translate the manual for us. At several points Vera was laughing so hard she had to wipe the tears from her eyes. I will never be able to convey the humor of the situation for them, though it seemed plain enough at the time. Mostly it was related to the pompous wording, the unwarranted seriousness of the manual, and the trappings of the Soviet era that just seem so silly today (like the official stamps and signatures page in the manual). When I brought that anemometer out, I never expected it to be such a source of amusement for us — I could throw it away now and it would have been worth 10 times its price just for that experience…
Like me, Konstantin is a shutterbug; they came back with bazillions of photos. I’d seen all but the photos from Belarus before their visit, and those were the ones I was most interested in. Konstantin gave us a “slide show” on his laptop, and I was very surprised by what I saw. I was expecting to see images that were as Soviet-like as the political situation there — but instead, I saw charming old towns, beautiful parks and buildings, and much renovation in progress. It’s very reminiscent of what’s happened in Toompea, the “old town” of Tallinn, Estonia, which I’m very familiar with. Most unexpected! The two photos above right are Konstantin’s, from Belarus, and I would never have figured out what they were without his explanation: they are bee hives! The bears each have a slot cut about where you’d think their belly-button is, and the house has a slot near the top of the door — this is where the bees go in and out. I wonder what possessed the apiarist to make such hives?
Our visit was capped by Konstantin and Vera taking us (Jim Barnick and I; Debbie couldn’t join us as she had another obligation, darn it) to dinner at one of our favorite restaurants: Descanso Junction. We’d eaten there once before with them, but didn’t realize that they’d enjoyed it so much. We had a great meal, but the real high point was the amiable conversation that bubbled along through the whole meal; four friends enjoying each others company. Oh, and there was also Konstantin’s expressive face to smile at — the best, I think, was the oh-so-satisfied and happy look on his face toward the end of the meal, as he said “I like this restaurant” in a reverent tone.
We were very reluctant to say good-bye, but we had to let them start their long trip home (they live over 100 miles away).
Good friends, good times; what more does one really need?
