An ordinary miracle: Travelstan

by Ardak Naiman (Kazakhstan)

I didn't expect to find Poland

Eight months have passed. I'm at home in Semey city, which is located in Kazakhstan. The world's first spaceport perched on its territory. Its name "Baikonur" translates as "a rich valley" in the language of my native steppes. To tell a story is to leave off being an actor in it and to become an observer - to become somebody who has seen it and tells it and is no longer the participant. Today I can recount my story without any chagrin. Any travel starts with an idea in the head. Its plan is created. But no plan survives first contact with realization. My destination was the Munch Museum in Oslo. Painting "The Scream", to be exact. Dostoevsky was once in exile in the city where I currently live. I'm well acquainted with his works. He greatly influenced the formation of the worldview of Munch. I decided to see firsthand "The Scream". A few days before departure to Oslo from Warsaw, at that time this was the place of my research work and residence, I heard the painting was taken to the exhibition in Russia. Having traveled all over Scandinavia, I went to Moscow. Shortly before those trips I started a relationship. There are meetings that have serious consequences, even if you barely touch something or someone. It was one of those meetings with him. While walking around Red Square, I've been thinking about I wasn't supposed to be there and I had to go back. It was chance to see the very painting next morning. But I flew to him. We all go a little mad sometimes. I'd like to say the story had a happy ending, but it wasn't. Another's heart is always a dark forest, no matter how close it's to yours. I thought he was waiting for me and was honest. On returning I noticed his coldness. Cold tea and cold rice are bearable, but cold gaze and cold word aren't. Enlightenment is when you stop seeing things that don't exist in fact. All he needed was to get to my best friend with my help. I felt like I was being chased by hounds of belated regrets. Is it worth getting attached to people if it will be this difficult to part with them later? Any meeting is more than parting. There is emptiness before meeting someone, just nothing, but there is no longer emptiness after parting. After having met someone once, it's impossible to part completely. A person remains in the memory, as a part of the memory. The person created that part and that part lives, periodically coming into contact with its creator. In a short while I've discovered he was with her. Some of us think holding on makes us strong; but at times it's letting go. The lessons of a broken heart are cruel, that's a fact, but they are priceless for a better future. I've explored the world for a long time and have collected so much of it that I can continue to explore it within myself. Each person appears with a certain mission in our life. He or she can spend only an hour with us or stay for years. Some people come to break us into a thousand fragments. Others appear to help us piece them together. After returning home from Poland, I haven't traveled. There are cases where, one's days being paralyzed by a sedentary life, the best way to gain time is to change one's place of residence. In some situation you don't choose the person, the person chooses you. Thus a stranger from the United States appeared in my life. He sent me a photo this morning. It shows a plane ticket to Kazakhstan. He rushes off to my side because he wants to see my green eyes. Now I'm like that picture to which people fly across huge distances. But compared to it, I'm not soulless. I'm worried about green eyes won't disappoint him. I'm standing on the bank of the Irtysh River. The waves carry away my thoughts. I'm waiting for him.