A Beautiful Day

A few posts ago, I mentioned about the snow and its relationship to Psalm 51. I concluded my writing by saying, “Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!” Well, for the past 24 hours, it has been snowing nonstop here in Tver, with at least a foot of freshly fallen snow blanketing the city. Indeed, it is really stacking up all over the place, much to my delight.

There were a few things that happened with this snow that I do want to mention. First of all, Julie and I REALLY feel sorry for those guys who are trying to lay bricks at the construction site right outside our window. At the peak level of snow, it was basically this routine: wipe away snow, lay a brick, wipe away snow, lay a brick. I can’t imagine that it is any fun at all for them right now.

The other thing that I am wondering about is snow etiquette: what are the rules when walking in freshly fallen snow? For example, this morning the sidewalks were covered with at least 6 inches of new snow, but there was a little path from the previous walkers who blazed a little trail. Inevitably, people coming from the opposite direction were using the same path as I was. If it was a woman, I would step out of the path into the ankle deep snow and let them walk on. If it was a man, I ended up doing the same thing. It seemed like no one was going to get out of the path for me, so I ended up always being the one doing it. I didn’t know if there was some protocol that I was unaware of. Perhaps it is this: the foreigner, who is easy to spot because his clothes aren’t all shades of black (which is definitely the predominate color here) and who has the invisible “F” (which stands for foreigner—in case you didn’t know) tattooed across his forehead, needs to move out of the way for the local. Yes, that must be it. I also found that if people would stop and talk, that they would also stay in the path instead of slowly inching their way out, all the while tamping down the snow. This, of course, was another way to “stick it to the foreigner with the crazy tattoo.”

Nevertheless, I must admit that I do love the snow. Even though it is messy, tough to walk in, an additional hazard for drivers, and altogether rather troublesome, I must admit that many a time during my language class today, I would look up from our work, glimpse outside, and make another comment about how I like the snow. I am sure my teacher must be getting tired of hearing it from the crazy man with the invisible tattoo—but STILL!!!