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From
“Fonske” <amlozano@iies.es>
Date Wednessday, July 14, 2004 19:34
To “List of contacts”
Subject
asia and europe aside
dear all,
in yekaterinburg, during summer,
the sun never sets. as the afternoon dies the buildings seems to
sleep under a light darkness.
towards east, however, where asia begins so close, you can appreciate that
sun is not gone, but that he just bent the corner. maybe that's why i have
the odd feeling of being far, because i'm next to an objective and absolut
reference. siberia is announced in low, clear, key. the city is industrial,
it's easy to imagine that in a place like this is where the romanov lost their empire. an orothodox cross and some
icons in which the romanov appear as saints highlight the site. people
approach to the cathedral (called "of the blood") with a respect that i
haven't found in christian western. if marx was right and religion is opium
for the people, then that drug, because of the prohibition, has rooted in
russia. in this city everything is ready for the change. not even
sverdlovsk, that ordered the death of the imperial family, survived them a
year. however, his name last til the nineties in the name of the town.
russian mafia has hit hard. in the cemetery, one of the pantheons shows a
natural size estatue. it's a gangster, dead young in mafia war. he appears
playing with the keys of his bombastic mercedes. everyone of these stones
has something to tell, provided you want to listen to.
we wander in yekaterinburg, guided by a map
without numbers and the instinct of the traveller. parks, streets, buildings,
churches; in an open air scenario, protected by the russian summer, a
group of people dance with no music, training a choreography that for us has
no meaning at all. their spectator are us and another russian group that
can't speake a single word of english. then starts to rain and we should
look for shelter.
there's a mob
atmosphere that surrounds the city. everything can happen. not even veronika,
that was not a witch but an architect and knew that she would meet us again, blinked
when we asked her for the address of the musical instruments shop. sure as she was, after saying she could
speak our language, left with no noise, without letting know exactly where
the store was (because she didn't know). then we found her the next day, in
the same place. she saw us and greet us cheerfully, just in front of the
monumento to the casualties in afghanistan and chchenia. later everything
was easy, because we already had a guide (or explicit political marshal!!!).
even we found the shop.
veronika make special yekaterinburg. veronika made good yekaterinburgo.
we walk yekaterinburg's streets
with
veronika aside. watching everything with different eyes. with veronika we had lunch and
dinner where only the russians do it, sharing a piece of life. i remember i
innocently asked her "do you want to live here for your whole life?". we
were in front of a juice at the gordon's. she looked at me weirdly and
answered "what kind of question is that one?". and for a moment, i saw the
doubt crossing her eyes.
streets lights are switched
off at one a.m. streets appear quiet, but they're dark. there's a law that
obliges to the shops to keep their lights on. with that shining wander
around yekaterinburg. i feel chased by some sort of restless. maybe they
want to go home. but i insist. we see a place. its aspect is suspicious (even
to me, but still i want to get in). i talk to the bouncer, a fellow in black
that hardly speaks english. he looks surprised that i want to enter. talk to
his companion in russian and smile oddly. i feel i bit nervous. but i hide
it. go outside, with my jacket on my shoulder to fetch my companions. with resignation, they pay
the fiftly rouble cover and go upstairs with me. we are registered in the
entrance. at the counter, we order without faith three vodka with orange. the place is called zebra club; it's just a room of about fifty
square metres with a techno ibiza atmosphere. the gogos dance bearing their
full-of-cocaine nose, after the panel that not even adelardo dared to cross.
and
of course, the police, that arrested with no arrest to adelardo and with joy,
invite him to have lunch and didn't want to check his passport, because he
was already a friend so it was obvious his passport was right. he
recommended him to pay visit to a different kind of friends. unknown russia, impossible russia.
late in the
evening, we left our dodgy hotel. we're going to irkutsk. a brand new volga car give us
a ride to the station.
the hugs and the kisses,
fonske.
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