Joyous Alexandr
Last day of my weekend. Spent it with Kelsey wandering the Middle East and Asia on foot. Morocco was a beautiful structure, but the best of the day - Qatar. Informative, interesting, friendly, beautiful. I did not understand Hungary. It had a lot of wooden sticks and a strangely shaped metal rock in the middle. Israel was an uncomfortably hot and stuffy greenhouse. Naturally, by our second pavilion I was fatigued. Three hours in, we escaped the Middle East in search of beer.
In the hidden Moldova wine bar a very friendly lady poured us generous samples of various Moldovan wines and pretzels that tasted like animal crackers. A big-boned Moldovian boy wandered around with a black eye and brightly-colored vest. The friendly lady was replaced by a spritely Moldovian girl who laughed and cursed a lot. When we tried to pay, there was no change in the register so the girl took the small bills we had, half of what we owed her, and exclaimed, "Let it be!"
The short detour did not distract us from the main goal of beer. We went to Russia's Snow Bar, where the Russian bartender boy I'd once met in the village happened to be working at the completely empty bar. I'd been walking back from a party late in the dark and he had said привет as a joke and was surprised when I responded.
Kelsey and I bought two bottles of Baltika 7, sat on the barstools, and watched the bartender be a total nutcase. He was already drunk, but he celebrated our new company with a White Russian, which he made with vodka - стандарт - and coffee. He tried to teach me the correct conjugations of танцевать and tongue-twisters like "рыбак рыбачил рыбу" and something else that I couldn't even begin to repeat. He blasted techno music and danced around and laughed, kicking an empty bottle around the floor.
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