The harsh realities of the Russian capital through the eyes of a foreign student - part 1

Last night, she MOST HARD Jonathan Campion, editor and translator in 2005 in his third year teaching at the university I went to Russia to learn some Russian. Then I happened to visit two cities in a few hours' drive north of Moscow. In Yaroslavl, I lived in the apartment of irritable mistress, pasted on your face whiskers, so I could participate in a theatrical production, spent his evenings on Fridays with his classmates in a nightclub, called "Joy's party" and made friends with the Georgian and Azeri traders who traded on the urban clothing market. In Tver, I lived in a university dormitory in the company of a dozen friendly Finns. My memories of joyful times interrupted by the eviction of one apartment, you can not select from the other and several bouts of the unbearable Russian flu. However, the most prolonged trouble occurred to me on the last day of my stay in Russia. It was a warm May evening in 2006, and ended the day before my second semester. Rather than fly home, because the validity of my visa expired, I decided to take the train and go to Kiev to celebrate his 21 th birthday there. I was going to take the train, get on it from Tver to Moscow, where to stay overnight at my friend Helen, in an apartment on the colored Boulevard, and the next morning to go to Ukraine. View from the window train. Old pictures I began my 48-hour trip, and collided with the first problem in a minute. Plastic handle of my suitcase broke down when I carried him down the steps of the hostel. I had to carry a suitcase on a belt, it was my winter clothes, a laptop and all the trinkets that piled up at me for a year. When I got out of taxis at the station in Tver, my hand had already been wiped out in blood. I dragged the suitcase to the train, chose a spot on one of the blue metal benches and stretched his legs, putting them on the bench opposite. I asked the couple, who sat side by side, how long are we going to stand still. The woman rolled her eyes when he heard my accent, and at the same moment a train with a metallic sound moved. Tver out of sight, and soon we were driving past the lakes and wetlands of northern Russia. That spring I traveled by train to Moscow six times. Four-hour journey to the capital cost less than a cup of coffee and gave the opportunity to penetrate the culture and livability of Moscow. The train was moving slowly in the Tver region, leaving behind a lovely wooden houses and brightly-painted fences. At some small stations in the car went in elderly women faded bandanas and began to sing folk songs, walking in the carriage back and forth. Passengers threw them into plastic cups small coin. On a trip I ukachalo, but that day I was tired, he numerous cases and farewells. When we passed the stage between the wedge and hooks, started the twilight, and I fell asleep. When I woke up from his trouser pocket was gone, my cell phone from a backpack - the camera, and out of the bag, I put on her head when asleep, the laptop was gone. The couple with whom I spoke, too, vanished. Read more: