Moscu

En español!!!

This is what we're gonna do!

From “Fonske” <amlozano@iies.es>

Date Sunday, July 11, 2004 10:24

To “List of contacts”

Subject it's the theatre

dear all,

moscow; variable weather and avenues drawn up with waved plotter. the underground and the beer; one, two. and that's why gorbachov becomes unpopular. not for the reason which all the statesmen have become unpopular from ancient times (tamara used a delightfull spanish expression – she was russian), for the empty shelves and the plate full of nothin, but by the vain attempt to remove from the moscow people the daily sopor of beer and underground, from the same foggy dust that surrounds marshal zhukov, hammer of nazis, with his brown horse from where he looks proud, right in front alexander's gardens. to rise the price of the beer was an unbearable bite of reality for the weak forces of russia. lenin will be buried, not when some people want, but when the only real death, the forgetfulness, has finished him. that's a principle's declaration. kremlin, will the witness.

moscow; something i've already seen in sofia, in budapest, in zagreb. but here the streets are imperial and more solid; they are taken out from my excited imagination. everything calls to literature and reality. from bolshoi to the metro as people's palace. i would like to detail some impossible anecdote. but from moscow i will keep the melody, not the lyrics. i've got clear in my mind the policeme, with their huge huts as if they were generals, checking out the papers of everyone that seems suspicious for them. we shouldn't appear dangerous for him. they look us with indifference. our moscow was easy because of our connection, irene, that shared her time and friends with us, from her close distance. i always thought that irene was on her way back. among shaslyk, alexander gardens up and down in the middle of the bright moscow summer, she taught us how an expat lives. as she said "slav-lovers know each other". they were reality bites amidst the afternoon, the evening, and the morning.

today moscow will be behind , wherever it was and the maps told (but we love maps). it will remain there, despite of the hurted feed of sebastián and the odd medicine that ricardo dictated (and in his mind, a grotesque image), as if it were not related to us, because actually we just were unguilty spectators. one day i will be in the mood to tell you what everybody said about moscow but that nobody dare to whisper. we had to see it with our eyes. here you will find the worst of several days, and in the meantime, some of destiled essence of the best. for those you like the sharp, i will mention the beautiful, long-legged women, accesible and tender. maria used to say that they easily got angry if you didn't talk to them. so what. bottle music clubs ara just a lazy excuse for the absence of hot water in our quiet hotel near vladykino. in moscow, in its summer, women look at you waiting for you to look at them, but hoping you don't notice (or maybe yes). so, maria insisted in our handsomeness for those moscow girls. so, among slowfast dancing, with rumba and gast gesture. i take off my jacket, i throw it to adelardo. as in a slow motion camera, adelardo takes it and smile (but i don't remember anything). sonja says: "it's the theatre". for you girls, though i know you are not that much interested, i will tell you that russian guys are usually skinny and ugly, far from their cousins the czeck, legendary handsome. yes, moscowe is weird and attractive. moscow is as well ismailovski part, its flea market, its hotels where you are offered with whores straight in your room, with phone calls in the middle of the night.

i'm going, but i little i'm staying in moscow, a little we all are staying, on the other side of the moskova, crossing through the red square, that just means beautiful, with the sun rising.

the hugs and the kisses,

fonske

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