Back in Black

So I’m back in Ekaterinburg after the Grand Tour, and while it feels good to be “home,” I returned with extremely mixed feelings.  Europe is so pleasant, friendly and easy, whereas Russia is generally pretty cold, both physically and emotionally.  I came home to find my internet company has gone over and my apartment smells even worse than before.  Of course, part of this melancholy might come from the fact that I was on vacation; I had no responsibilities except to have fun with my awesome friends.  Anything is going to feel difficult after that.  It was just such a harsh transition, returning to Russia and being immediately shoved on the subway and fined for not having our train tickets when exiting the station.  Still, it’s nice to be in a place where I speak the official language, if with a heinous accent.

The conference in Moscow was fun, and improved by our childish antics.  Highlights included: Lauren cutting the boys’ hair, dancing to 90s hits in a deserted club, watching Hedwig after singing the songs all over Berlin and spiking the mors (a sort of homemade cranberry juice) at the fancy Fulbright dinner.  It was wonderful to see everyone, inspiring to hear what all my fellow Fulbrightniks are up to and exciting to steal all their ideas.

Oh yeah - I never wrote about the end of our time in Europe.  On our last day in Prague, we met up with a friend of a friend of Jason’s, who gave us the most amazing historico-cultural tour of the city.  Can you imagine living in such a touristy city and still being willing to entertain three foreign strangers?  He taught us so much about the city and even gave us candy and Prague calendars.  Later that day we met up with my friend Lenka who had been living in Ekaterinburg.  Lucky for her, the task of explaining Prague was done, but she showed us even more cool stuff, like the senior show at the academy of art.  On our last night there, we followed our hearts and split up.  Jason went to the museum of Communism, Matt to read Kafka in a restaurant and I checked out the local puppet theater.  They were performing their smash-hit production of Mozart’s Don Giovanni, an opera which, it turns out, he wrote for Prague.  I loved the theater, show, concept (a drunken Mozart puppet conducted the “orchestra”), everything, so much, even if I nodded off a bit during the first act.

From there we took an incredibly disorganized and uncomfortable train ride to Vienna.  We arrived at 6:30 a.m. with just enough time to glance around the city, regret not having more time there, and eat breakfast in the historic Cafe Central.  This restaurant, one of Trotsky’s favorite haunts, was exquisitely beautiful and the food was good too!  Then we hauled ass to the airport and flew back to Stepmother Russia.

So now I’m sitting in a free wifi food court, drinking a proper half-liter Russian beer and missing my travel partners terribly.  I still have about two weeks before school starts again, which is good since I have some serious sleeping to do.  Without internet at home I won’t be able to chat any time soon, but if you’re reading this, chances are you’ll be getting a postcard soon.

Much love from a most ambivalent Abbichka.