Sophie’s August: When She Flew, and Flew Some More

Dear Family,

It’s finally the end of the summer, and I think this has probably been the most exciting summer of my entire life. There’s probably no need to read another letter after this one, honestly.

But I’d appreciate it if you did anyway.

The month started off in Latvia, where I completed the last few weeks of my study abroad. I wanted to be pretty frugal throughout my time in Latvia, but when it got to be the last week I think my mentality switched from exceedingly cautious to celebratory and congratulatory for not spending too much of my money during the first five.

I say this because, during the last week, I almost bought more food, souvenirs, and experiences than I did during the rest of the trip put together.

Hands down the best of all of these purchases was the €15 spent on paddle boarding down the river Daugava for 3 hours.

My friends and I had spent our stay in Riga watching other tourists paddle down the river that we crossed at least twice daily as we traveled to class, to old town, then back again to the library. My good friend Amanda desperately wanted to paddle board down the river, and I was less interested. It sounded dirty, wet, and expensive.

AND it was the most magical way of capping off my experience in the beautiful city of Riga. I don’t think a picture can capture the magnificence of rounding the corner that took me out of the harbor and on to the river, but I’ll put one in anyway. As I took in the bridges that towered over me, that I had so frequently walked on our ridden across; the sun that seemed to run through all of the water in front of me; the trams and buses that drove by carrying regular Latvian people going about their everyday business while I was on the river on my paddle board—Riga suddenly felt so massive and beautiful, and I felt like I knew it better than I have known any place I’ve visited before.

That feeling of familiarity and nostalgia for a city I only knew for six weeks deepened as we paddled off of the river and onto a canal that ran through all of our favorite places to visit and stroll. It even went under the mall where we liked to buy €1 chocolate muffins and watch movies in Russian with Latvian subtitles. It ran through our parks, bus stations, and random bridges that we never spent much time considering before.

From the water that ran through it, the city came together in a way that I had not previously understood.

I am normally content with what I have and what I have experienced; I have vague desires to travel and see new places, but I think I’d be happy to live my entire life in the neighborhood I grew up in, even after each of my experiences that led me to diverse and wonderful places. But Riga helped me realize how special it is to not just live in a new place, but to feel like you know it.

Now I hope I have the chance to feel that way again, about yet another home.

I left Riga early one Sunday morning, tired and ready to go home (to Provo), but sad to leave my friends, volleyball, yummy fish, slightly cheaper food, my hosts, and my Russian teacher. Oh, and uh, my excellent Russian-learning opportunities, of course.

Not as sad to leave behind the tragic lack of free public restrooms and water fountains. I am a BIG fan of America’s performance in that category of public amenities.

I arrived in Provo late at night after a very long 24 hours of travel, featuring a magical 4-hour layover in the Frankfurt airport with my favorite travel buddy, Amanda.

We had some good times, even though the travel was stressful at times. I’m glad we had the chance to relax and play around in the Frankfurt airport, since once we landed in Denver for our second layover, there were about negative 5 minutes to waste.

I don’t know if you’ve ever flown through Denver, but I’m guessing there’s a good chance you have since I’m pretty sure the population of the Denver airport on August 12th was greater than the entire population of Latvia.

Amanda and I had an hour and a half to get from our German flight (which arrived late), through customs, through Denver airport security, and to our gate (via the little TRAIN they have to transport patrons from terminal to terminal). It was the most anxiety-inducing hour and a half of my life, especially when we were trying to find the end of the security line and had to helplessly watch it get longer and longer as we chased its tail all around the airport.

When we got through security, we probably had 10 minutes until the scheduled departure, which is already typically too late. We ran to the train, and ran to the gate printed on our boarding passes. Naturally, the gate had changed since Lufthansa printed out our tickets in Latvia. So we ran back to the train, took it to the next terminal and had to run much, much farther to get to the correct gate.

I uttered many apologies to and startled quite a few loafers (some very amused and invested in my success, others likely less so) on the moving walkway, leaving Amanda behind in an attempt to get to the gate before they closed it.

We got there just a minute after they closed the doors to board the plane.

I was trying so hard not to cry as I listened to the desk attendants figure out whose fault it was that five people from the late Lufthansa flight were late for their United departure so they could decide who would be paying for our hotels. I knew that staying in a hotel in Denver for a night before going home to Utah would not be too bad. I was just so tired from not sleeping for so long and running and almost making it.

Fortunately, I think God remembered the last time I was left in an airport without a fully fleshed-out exit plan and decided to extend a little olive branch to me and the other German flyers. As I watched the unobtainable plane out of the vast airport windows with a similar mixture of anger, frustration, sadness, and disbelief with which Mr. Darcy regarded Lizzie in Pride and Prejudice after she rejects his proposal, I saw the retractable walkway that had already completely detached from the plane begin to slowly extend, creeping back towards the aircraft.

Apparently, the plane needed to refuel, and they decided to let us poor, sweaty wretches onto the plane to SLC while they filled up the tank. Amanda and I were delirious from the combination of sleep deprivation, running fatigue, and victory.

I definitely offered one those, “Thy will be done always of course but thank You SO much for doing this for me,” prayers in that moment.

We arrived nearly on time to SLC, and Hannah and Emma were kind enough to pick me up from the airport and host me for the few days I was in Utah as I was moving stuff back into my apartment (which I had optimistically put in storage hoping someone would want to take my contract for the summer months—no one did).

During these few days, I went to work.

Something about being away from work for six weeks while also throwing my money into rivers and European restaurants and rent for my aforementioned unoccupied apartment made me very anxious about money. So I went back to work on Monday after a full day of virtually sleepless travel the day before.

I’m still working at the BYU Bindery (just north of BYU campus), and while it’s still summer, I get to spend eight hours a day there instead of just four. It’s riveting.

I’m actually quite enjoying it. My boss keeps giving me (the new Quality Team Leader™️) new responsibilities as he embarks on a quest to reinforce in the minds of our employees the importance of quality checking all of our products. I’m having fun trying to become an expert in something new by studying the printing and binding standards given for the products we send out, something I’m pretty sure no one else in the bindery does.

Theoretically, I’m supposed to be training people. And going around to every step of the book-making process to check their work. And making sure things are running smoothly in the back area of the bindery where I currently spend most of my time? I’m a little confused about how and when I’m supposed to do all of these things, but my boss seems confident that I’ll just start doing it all “when I feel ready.”

The other day, he told me, “Just make sure everyone is checking books the way YOU would check them. I don’t care about anyone else’s opinion; your opinion is the only one that matters.”

I’m honored, of course, but I honestly have no idea what I’ve ever done to give him such confidence in my opinions about the quality of an Addiction Recovery Manual. Not a clue.

The number of times in the past few days that someone has come up to me with a book, pointed to a random spot, and asked, “How do we feel about this?” is probably somewhere around a hundred and three. Do I know why I make the decision I do half the time despite all the time I’ve spent studying how many sixteenths of an inch long a nearly imperceptible scratch can be before it’s technically considered bad? No, not really. It’s mostly vibes.

But now everyone asks me for my opinion and takes it as fact. It’s a little tiring, but motivating.

While trying to adjust to this incredible influx of power, I only got about three days of work in before I got back on a plane and flew to Alaska!

Honestly, after that week, I never wanted to fly again.

I flew to Anchorage on the 15th of August and got back early in the morning on Monday the 19th after a magical four days staying with my friend Rebekah’s family for her wedding!

I met Rebekah during the six-week leg of my mission that took place in Pullman, Washington before I made it to Ukraine. During those six weeks, I met this wonderful young woman: a student at WSU in want of a few friends in the Church and very in love with her long-distance boyfriend who was still in Alaska while she was away at school.

Sister Bird, Rebekah, and I became fast friends. I am sure that God brought me to Pullman for a few reasons, but I think that Rebekah was a primary one. I felt so happy on her wedding day as I watched her vow to her husband, promising to be his partner in all things.

I loved being there. I loved Alaska’s natural beauty, mountain views, and friendly people. I loved setting up for a wedding, all the while thinking about my own and wondering what Rebekah was feeling as she married Manny. And I loved being there for my friend who has been kind enough to stick with me even after I left her after six weeks of friendship nearly three years ago.

And as much as I loved Alaska, I was very excited to go home to Provo again. Because this time, Luke was going to be there!

After nearly two months of daily calls and figuring out time zones and odd schedules while I was in various parts of the world and Luke was in Maryland, we are finally in the same city again! Two months doesn’t sound like an incredibly long time when I think of all the long-distance relationships I’ve been around, but it was certainly enough to make me deeply grateful for Luke and his presence in my life.

So, in case it needs saying, I’ve spent a lot of time with him this week. It’s made me really happy.

I thought that between Latvia and Alaska there wouldn’t be much time for feeling lonely or homesick, and I was happy and comfortable for most of the time I spent in those places. But I also did really miss Luke, and now I think I’m more excited than ever to get married this winter.

It’s been odd to discover that I now have two homes: one in Provo and one in Maryland. No matter which of those places I reside in, I find myself simultaneously perfectly comfortable and missing aspects of the other. I’m enjoying being back in Provo, but I also feel sad that I won’t see my family or my Maryland home again until Christmas.

But I’m happy and hopeful.

I believe this is going to be a heavy but exciting semester. I really can’t wait—but then again I probably could. We’ll see how I feel next month 😉

I love you all and hope you have a wonderful September. To my Utah family, I hope I get to see you soon. To my other family, my prayers are with you and I am always missing you.

Love,

Sophie