Today marks forty days since the death of Alexei, Tatyana's (my host mom's) husband. For the past two days, Tatyana has been cooking almost nonstop in preparation for the arrival of friends and family who want to honor the memory of Alexei. My breakfast this morning was interrupted by the appearance of two of Tatyana's closest friends, who arrived late the previous evening to help Tatyana prepare for the gathering. Their arrival proved that Tatyana's seemingly tiny apartment holds many more people than one would think upon first glance, much like Mary Poppins' magical handbag, from which she pulls out a hatstand, then a mirror, then a ficus plant, etc. (This is crucial to your understanding of my living situation so I, of course, will include a link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AivZSC9J3Rs0). As I was eating my oatmeal with Tatyana this morning, the window above the kitchen cabinets suddenly swung open, revealing the face of Tatyana's sister-in-law. She greeted Tatyana and me with a broad smile and I, momentarily frazzled but not wanting to appear as such, simply nodded to her and then returned to my breakfast. She stayed in the little window for some time, smiling down upon my oatmeal as she talked and laughed with Tatyana. Then her face disappeared, which was terribly conerning to me, but she re-emerged momentarily from a door that I had previously thought belonged to a closet. I had no time to ponder this confusing realization that the closet was not a closet but in fact a hidden passageway, as I was already late for my 9 AM Saturday class on the globalization of Russia. (Oi! Class at 9 AM on a Saturday! Can you imagine?) I busied myself outside of my home for the rest of the day, not wanting to disurb Tatyana as she took time to honor the life of her husband. Whenever Tatyana sees me, she feels an unexplainable and inarguable desire to feed me, and I didn't want to overburden her on a day that was difficult enough as it is. When I finally returned home around 8:30 PM, I walked into the dining room to see Tatyana with her two friends as well as three people (two women, one man) who I had not met before. She enthusiastically ordered me to sit down, eat, and meet her friends. After introducing myself, the man, named Andrei, took my plate and began filling it with a little taste from every dish, of which there were many, laid out upon the dining room table. Tatyana then asked me, "Do you drink? Wine or vodka?" When I hesitated a moment, Andrei replied, "She'll have vodka!" Then, with a flourish, he poured a generously-large shot glass with vodka. We all raised our glasses and took a drink. After eating more, then answering questions about where I lived, what I studied, and how my name was pronounced, Andrei gestured to the framed portrait of Alexei that was leaning against the wall. "He was a beautiful man", Andrei spoke. The room quieted as he re-filled all of our glasses. Tatyana then said to me, in English, "I wish you could have met him. I loved him.. I still love him.. I will always love him." To this, we all raised our glasses again and drank. Tatyana then asked me if I was of Russian blood, due to my admirable ability to drink vodka. I replied that my family hailed not from Russia, but from Scotland, to which the entire table raised their glasses and drank. Throughout the rest of the evening, many toasts were made. We drank to Russian literaure, to American literature, to my beauty (during which I blushed profusely and stammered "thank you" again and again), to Alexei, to my beauty and cleverness (again, lots of blushing), and, finally, one last time, to the beautiful and wonderful man Alexei was. It was a marvelous evening, as well as a marvelous way to remember a man who I never knew, but who I now understand was someone worth knowing.