Tag Archives: wait for me

Russian family history programme pt 2

I left you a while ago with Russian family history programme pt 1 , saying that when I posted the story I would be in Belarus with my daughter.  I had planned on my return to write about our trip, telling you of the good times and the bad, the ups and the downs, the laughing and the crying and the hectic days we spent travelling around Minsk, Slonim and Lida with the production team from ‘Zhdi Menya’ (Wait for me).london screen shot wait for me

I was all set to continue the adventures – the pictures and videos were all chosen and ready for the words to put into place, BUT, so many people have said I should work it into a talk.  What should I do?  The blog would be easy, just putting words add some of our pictures and ‘bobs your uncle’ as they say.

I was talking to a friend last week, another family and local history ‘nut’, who I had not seen to chat to since my adventure in May.  Well, after sitting with a coffee and one of her slices of wonderful cake, she asked me about the trip, I was going to say ‘journey’ but everyone uses that phrase now for things that happen in their lives, and quite honestly, I’m getting bored of the phrase, so trip it now is.  She asked me how it went, she drank her coffee – mine got cold.  After sitting quietly while I went through the events, what we saw and how life is in Belarus is, ‘you have to do a talk’ were her words.  So, a talk it will become.  Whether groups will want to invite me to tell them of my trip and how my daughter and I met her father’s family, that will be a different matter.

The tale will be family and local history – a little bit UK and a little bit Bellarus.  It will tell how the effects of a war enabled me to meet my husband and have two wonderful children.  And it will also tell that language can be no barrier if people really want to communicate. 

copyright sklinar family

copyright sklinar family

It could be fun as I have never liked Powerpoint.

So, I had better start my project just in case someone would like to hear the story of a lady called Nadia