Day 11: Storm, female priests, language

ast night there was a storm, the little houses were shaking a little and rain knocked on the big windows. The morning after the storm then featured the greatest sunrise ever seen, with waves that made our beloved lake look like the Atlantic Ocean. As said earlier, this lake really feels like the sea.

We then went to interview Matjushka Varvara, a female priest (actually a sort of minister, just like Andrej, since there are no real priests in the Old Believers' religion). Varvara is 80 years old, has five children and uncounted grandchildren. She was made the priest or minister of this church by the previous priest, also a woman, when this previous priest died: On her deathbed, she asked Varvara to take over this position from her, and because it was necessary and there was nobody else who could do it, Varvara accepted.

Later we interviewed Matjushka Zoya, who used to be a doctor and is now also a priest or minister in one of the churches. We had a long and deep conversation with her, too, and got a lot of apples from her garden as a present. Strong ladies, open and devoted to what they do.

We walked around, and met Timofey who was busy working on his potato field. We talked with him for a while. Turns out one of the crosses in the church is indirectly "his", as it was a donation from Timofey's father to the church, in order for his son to be protected: Timofey was a parachutist.

In the evening, Bettina went around the area alone again. Without a whole team that runs around with sound equipment and tripods and so on, it's often just easier to get in touch with people who'd otherwise be naturally a bit shy in front of a whole group. We schedule interviews with people whom we find particularly interesting, of course, but if we did only that, we'd miss out on many small moments, and we'd miss many people who aren't well-known around the villages. So for photographic and for film material of more people, Bettina sometimes goes around alone, less intrusive, allowing a more personal and quick touch with people met. Since Bettina speaks neither Russian nor Estonian, there are of course also quite cute situations coming out of this: The speechlessness allows for a sublime contact, amusing situations, mutual laughter, it's an entirely different situation and feeling than if you can exchange your thoughts. Both sides become a bit like friendly dogs who are circling around each other for a while, trying to express basic emotions or attitudes, but not able to say anything to each other. Some nice photos come out of this. The kids are a bunch of locals and holiday guests who play together bilingually, running around and shouting in both Estonian and Russian languages (so much Bettina understands even without understanding the words, of course).

And naturally, Liza is around, too, with her favourite dog Tobi. She's always somewhere, and has obviously adopted us as some of her new friends: She still tries to teach us how to throw berries up in the air and catch them with his mouth, and we fail miserably, which she visibly enjoys. And she keeps sharing her favourite pets with us: Here's Liza on the street with Tobi, when Bettina met them in the evening.