remember

eating ice cream with the mafia

once i was sitting on a curb in a little square in moscow, eating an ice cream with a friend, when men in dark suits came into the park, drew their guns and stood guard at each of the park's entrances. my friend and i, the only people in the square, decided it wasn't the best place for an ice cream. we got up and ran.

journey to st. petersburg

during my summer in moscow, i called one of my old professors who lives in st. petersburg and arranged to visit her by train. i bought my train ticket for the russian price, arguing with the woman who sold tickets that i shouldn't need to pay the tourist price since i lived in moscow. she gave in but would only sell me a single, so i had to go through the same thing on the way back home.

i enjoyed my weekend in st. petersburg, staying with natalia, my favourite professor from my undergraduate studies. it was a hot and muggy summer's night, and i slept with my bedroom window open, waking in the morning to mosquito bites covering the half of my face that wasn't up against the pillow.

flatmates

i lived in moscow for a summer, doing research for my master's dissertation. my home for those months was a two-bedroom flat in the heart of the city, where i lived with its owner, a wonderful russian woman who taught at the university, and the cockroaches, who fled the kitchen whenever i turned on the light.