The Nutcracker

It's 6:30 in the morning and I hear a noise coming from the balcony - what is it? I wonder. I turn over in my mattress on the floor only to find that K is not on the mattress next to me.  So I follow the noise - it sounds like a hammer pounding a nail into a piece of wood.  And then I see that it's K squatting on the balcony floor with a rock in his hands - he's hitting the shell of a walnut on a wooden cutting board.  I ask him what he's doing and he, very casually, explains to me that he's getting the walnuts from the shell, as if he's done this before. 
Ever since we arrived in Tajikistan, I have been amazed at how quickly and seemingly K has adjusted to a lifestyle that is so different to the one he is use to in Canada.  He manually fills the washing machine with water and rinses the soap out in the bathtub (instead of just putting the clothes in the washer and then in the dryer once it has been rinsed automatically), sets the dastarkan, tablecloth, on the living room floor for all our meals (instead of eating on a dining table), gives old bread to the girl who comes asking for any leftover bread every morning (children begging for food is not something he has seen in Canada), sleeps on the floor with M and myself (instead of crib in his own room in Canada) and takes a bucket bath (instead of in a baththub filled with water and his bathroom toys).  Nothing seems to phase him and he doesn't question why things are different than in Canada - he's soaking it all in.  

After reaching M’s childhood home, K was all smiles when he saw his grandmother, Babulia, calling him from the window on the fourth floor of the apartment building. He grabbed my hand and we headed up the flight of stairs and found Babulia in the hallway with her hands wide open for a hug from her grandson that she has never seen. K climbed up the last flight of stairs and ran into her arms and gave her a kiss. It was as if he knew her and hadn’t seen her in a long time. K went into the apartment, sat in the entrance hallway, took off his shoes and hugged his grandfather, Dedushka Mabatsho. He then proceeded to look throughout the apartment he had never been in saying "I need to see something." He walked through the living room onto the balcony to look out the window - it seemed like this home was familiar to him.

As I watch K interact with his Tajik family with familiarity and comfort, I am truly amazed.  It really is quite something how children can adapt to a new way of life so easily without any judgement - something we adults can learn from.