This is surreal.

As I type this, I am sitting in the volunteer village cafeteria with roughly 100 Russian and international volunteers watching the Biathalon. Cheers erupt every time a Russian athlete appears on screen. I literally stopped typing for a few minutes just now because the room was full of cheers urging a Russian athlete to cross the finish line in first place. He missed it by 4 seconds or so. The room groaned with disappointment. Not to worry though. There are multiple other Russian athletes to urge forth. Every time cheering erupts I catch myself thinking it's odd. Why is everyone cheering for this strange man? There is no Canadian on screen. And then I remember. I'm in Russia. Watching Olympic events that are taking place mere kilometers, mere minutes away from me. I am here. This is surreal.

The last couple days my brain has been orbiting on a mind blowing loop. Things have started to feel comfortable here. I know the bus system, trains, etc. I have friends and my room contains my stuff arranged in the order I like. My job is second nature. And then I see the rings, or the row of flags, perhaps an athlete tramps by with all their gear talking about their upcoming competitions. Instantly I am pulled into the shocking revelation that this is not just another day. This is the Sochi 2014 Olympic Games. I am here. This is surreal. But surreal quickly fades to the usual, that is, until it becomes unusual again. Today one of my good friends here witnessed in person an Olympic record get set in speed skating. I have no doubt that she was also the happy victim of this mind warp. Yesterday, two of my friends went to the Opening Ceremonies on tickets gifted to them. Minds. Blown. I watched the Opening Ceremonies rehearsal in person surrounded by thousands of Russian and international volunteers and then 6 days later watched official production on TV surrounded again by thousands of Russian and international volunteers. I have no way to express what I felt when they lit the torch. This is surreal.

I can only imagine how the athletes feel. They too have settled in. They have found their ways around. They are surrounded by friends that they have trained with and competed against for years. Their training programs are completely memorized. And then, they see their names on a competition list, they find themselves standing at the top of a hill looking down on the Olympic Rings and the athlete's village nestled into the hill. Never mind the moment when they stand at the top of their run counting down the seconds til countless years of training culminate into that one, all important run. Everything is the same. Everything is completely different. Mind blown. This is surreal.

How does one capture this experience? I don't know. You try to remain in each moment. Try to keep yourself from growing accustom to this place and all that it means. You try to capture what you can in countless photos (thank God for digital cameras). You talk to everyone about what you have seen, heard, and felt. Somehow all these things make it feel more real. If you can, you scrounge up enough time and energy to write a blog for your friends and family back home. It's not enough -- it's all we have.

This is surreal.