POSTSCRIPT (AFTER THE TRIP)

I originally created this site to chronicle my experiences volunteering in Russian orphanages and living in Yaroslavl. When I left Russia in the spring of 2007, I had no intention of continuing to write about a trip that had reached its conclusion! Then I learned that if I didn’t update this blog, it would eventually be deleted, so I began posting infrequently just to keep the site alive.

But a year or so after returning home — and after fully decompressing from the dizzying and surprisingly long trajectory required to fully reacclimate to American culture and my daily routine — I realize that while I may have left the kids I worked with in Yaroslavl, they certainly hadn’t left me.

Sasha. Vovo. Anton. Dasha. Nastia. Losha. Masha. Gayna. Ena. Luba. Pasha. Maxim. Alona. Vitaly. Sergei. Vanya. Olga. Nadia. Tanya. Katya. Ilya. Roma. Alexei. Dima. Zachar. Ina. Natalia. Natasha. Elena. And so many more.

I like the idea of writing their names here as a sort of tribute to their wonderful giggles, which I still echo in my mind at the most unexpected moments; to their tears, which still trigger mine when I remember some of their pain that I witnessed; to their disarming delight at such simplicities as an hour playing outside, a used pair of gloves, a squirt of whipped cream or a cheap toy car. I am forever indebted to them, for nobody could have taught me more effectively the lessons they did, or verified more vividly that even the most helpless, voiceless, marginalized, anonymous creatures in any society can touch and change lives. I know they forever changed mine.

I hope that by continuing to chronicle, to the degree possible, the stories of the orphans, their homeland and their culture, that I am in some small but meaningful way doing the only things that the orphans ever really ask of any of us: Love them. Don’t forget them. Pay attention to them. And never underestimate the life-changing power of a quick smile or warm hug.