post-soviet pavement

... is an interesting phenomenon. it's kind of like a major natural disaster (think katrina or some lesser hurricane), mix in a lot of mud, add a lot of scary holes and ditches, and then paint with your magic bruch all over an urban area of nearly a million people: you might have chisinau.

so, i was sampling some of the local vodkas and beers at the house of an unnamed companion (whose parents work in italy, mind you) and i, as the guest of honor, was made to drink lots of vodka. lots of $3 bottles. good shit, mind you, but only when you drink it properly, which entails never actually smelling the vodka. you take an open-faced sandwich of the smelliest food possible (in this case canned meat or fish and bread), take a huge shot, then put the food under your nose as you might smell a perfume sample or some other interesting olfactory experience, then eat. vodka taste & smell disappear, you are all the better feeling wise, and the hangover/sickness effect is negated, as you now have a full stomach.

so, i stopped count after 7 shots, switched to beer, which ran out after an hour, then went on to the vin de casa (house wine). it's literally home brew, and comes in all sorts of containers. this came out of what best can be described as an industrial strength pickle jar. before i know it my new friend Laur (an actor, always the hedonist, slightly older and more mature than my companions) & i head to a veschni bar (literally an 'eternal bar').

so, my memory stops then, and i somehow end up 3 hours later at dawn with laur and a huge hunger. but a good breakfast is hard to find in chisinau, and on a weekday it is all but impossible. so we get some more beers. but somehow i notice myself wincing with pain. as the drink wears off i am like in the worst pain of my life. but i am 3 km from home and there are no taxis to be found. so i hump it home and am dying with pain, my host family is getting up, and they think i have done some sort of all night dance marathon: my mom elena is like "misha cem bolshe tanzivatz"

no, i just got wasted and twisted my ankle. poor misha.

more to follow...