Willful Suspension of Disbelief

Just got home from the Opera and Ballet Theater, where I saw Prokofiev’s Romeo and Juliet.  As a rule, I find ballet pretty boring, but I took a chance on this Shakespeare adaptation.  I was definitely not disappointed, and blown away by some aspects, especially the Lady Capulet.  I had never heard the ballet before, and found it positively moving.  The production made me feel sympathy towards characters I had previously disdained, like Tybalt (he was a great big strong Bashkoristani).  I did, however, have two serious criticisms.  1) The dancer playing Romeo was rather limp-ankled, especially compared to Tybalt.  Of course, a great many male ballet dancers are, as we say in Russian, light blue, but I had a real hard time accepting him as a heterosexual love interest.  He was, to be scientific, a Faggotus Maximus.  2) The ending was, incredibly, anti-climactic.  Romeo stabbed himself instead of drinking poison, and everything wrapped up quite quickly and dispassionately.  Then of course came the inevitable synchronized applause.  Overall I found it quite moving, but I wasn’t exactly bawling at the end.

What else can I tell you from the last few days.  Today got off to a rocky start.  I’d agreed to help some high school students who are preparing for the YeGE, Russia’s new SAT-type entrance exam.  This promised to be interesting because the test is very controversial.  Unfortunately, I ignored my alarm clock this morning, and woke up only when the teacher called me.  Whoops!  After that, I was expecting some students who I’d invited over for tea as a make-up class.  Only one showed up, and so much the better, since she’s the only one whose name I know.

Friday night I went to our local Scottish bar to hang out with a couple foreigners doing some sort of hearing-impaired education project.  The bar was a riot.  It purported to be Scottish, but one wall was decorated with the Beatles, another with Elvis.  Most important, though, the house beer was great and all the bartenders were in kilts.  A huge tv projected music videos, and just when I had gotten up to go to the bathroom, they showed Queen, followed by John Lennon, followed by none other than Roy Orbison backed by Elvis Costello, Tom Waits and Bruce bloody Springsteen.  It was a war between my brain and my bladder, and I was the battlefield.  Anyway, I’ll definitely go back to that bar, if only to find out what they wear under those kilts...

Thursday night was Thanksgiving and I was so thankful to be invited to the Consulate General’s home.  As I’ve been reading F. Scott Fitzgerald, I was positively enraptured by this ex-pat scene.  Moreover, after seeing how well the American government provides for its diplomats, I’m now considering a career in the foreign service.  The point, though, is that Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday, and, turkey being hard to find here, I was extremely grateful to enjoy a real Thanksgiving dinner with other Americans.  They had everything: turkey, cranberry sauce, sweet potatoes with marshmallows, mashed potatoes, corn casserole, goyish green beans, pumpkin pie, pecan pie, apple crumble, I could go on.  Apparently, as we Fulbright ETAs were allowed to send ourselves teaching materials, so diplomats can send themselves foodstuffs.  Hence the StayPuft mini-marshmallows.  To top it all off, the Consulate General is a Buckeye, and his roommate at Miami University was from Beachwood.  How’s that for the irony of fate?

Well friends, I’m exhausted as you only can be when you oversleep at the beginning of a long day.  Much love.