*
Waking up to a roaring sound of a thousand Russian-speaking
teenagers coming from the hallway of the hostel. It’s just before 9 a.m. and
it’s very disrupting. Aysena and I can’t sleep. They are from “the village”, as
Aysena explains it, which is another way to say kids that aren’t from the city
or “that don’t know how to act”.
Aysena, Aina, Tristan, and I start out our day journey at a
café near a small Pushkin statue.
Egg, Onions, and Greens Pastry. Cream Cheese filled
Pastries. Orange Juice.
An inside public market sparks my attention. A few Armenian
vendors swindle Tristan and I into buying a blood orange and a plum. They
forcefully want us to have a picture of them.
*
*
We continue walking along the main river in St. Petersburg.
On a whim we find a small second hand shop with plenty of antique eye candy.
One of Tristan’s famous conclusive one-liners that I find
myself using again and again: “I can’t call you a liar if you’re telling the
truth.”
Visiting The Peter and Paul Fortress, the glorious cathedral
inside and the Trubetskoy Bastion Prison.
*
*
*
Eating at a Japanese restaurant.
Chicken with Vegetables and Noodles. Green Tea.
At the NikO Pianobar off Pushkin Street. I’ve got a gig
booked here in this warm cozy smoky atmosphere. It’s not terribly crowded but
for a Monday night it’s nice. Mostly young adult couples are my audience along
with my friends. I run through my long list of songs with mostly success.
Dmitry, the manager, who doesn’t speak hardly any English, takes a liking to
it. After I finish my act a Russian band goes on performing rock n roll songs
from the 50’s and 60’s. Aysena and Aina are hollering and having a good old
fashion time. As well a few couch surfing faces make an appearance. One of
them, Natasha who is a real friendly type, starts talking with Tristan. She
invites us to hang out after the show.
†
We take our time walking to this bar Natasha knows about.
Our group is a little slow because Aysena and Aina have been drinking. There’s
a lot of commotion in the street as Ays shouts and acts overly friendly to
passerby’s.
*
*
At the bar, but only for a little time because we have to
catch a train.
Lentil Soup with Pita Bread.
*
As things continue the girls are losing more and more of
their common sense. And it makes things difficult in commuting back to the
hostel for our luggage. We flag down a taxi and get in. The Russian man has to
stop the car twice to let Aina and Ays throw up. He’s terribly patient
surprisingly, considering the last two taxis we tried to use refused us
service. Eventually, we grab our stuff and walk to the train station. We don’t
have tickets though, only a screenshot of the registered tickets online from
Aysena’s phone. I have possession of the phone now because Ays is in no state
of mind to be leading the group. But I don’t know where to go and because I
don’t understand Russian fluently my asking questions to any employee there is
useless. And Ays isn’t offering any help whatsoever. She just keeps spouting out
criticism and plopping on the ground like a toddler in an effort to pass out.
She shares sporadic conversations in Russian with Aina that only exacerbates
the situation and causes Aysena to lose her composure. She’s running off away
from the train in a fit now, sometimes dropping her bags carelessly. Tristan
and I are left to carry most of the luggage and maintain our togetherness at
the same time. It’s like trying to control a pair of two-year olds. As much as
I’m surprised to see this dark and frantic side of the night, I can’t say I
didn’t see this coming. It’s almost reminiscent of the former escapades of
drunken drama I had to experience with my ex-girlfriend. It’s really strange.
Somehow, through asking multiple train employees at the platforms, we manage to
find our designated car and settle into the packed shared train bunks. That was
the most stressful I’ve been in a long while. I hate alcohol in the hands of
people I’m supposed to respect.
Around 3 a.m. I lie back on my stiff bunk and try to catch
some Zzzz’s.
* Images taken
by me.
† Images taken by Aysena.
† Images taken by Aysena.
No comments:
Post a Comment