"Don't tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass." ~Anton Chekhov The spring chapter of my St-Petersburg journey was a time of sharing. The city experienced a stunning transformation as greenery returned to the gardens and nights turned white, streets regained the leisure of outside mingling, and festivals congregated folks seeking sunshine, the touch of music, art and heartwarming smiles. St-Petersburgians are light worshipers; the gloomy atmosphere of the winter months tends to generate a somber tone in the conversations, a feeling of being warmth-deprived, a yearning for the soothing months of summer and the days spent at the ( дачаdacha). Witnessing nights being translucent and inhabiting in a constant state of light was a bit disconcerting, I must admit, but the continuity of days seem endless, as they were the possibilities. | Documentary by Насти Самущенко |
Welcoming loved ones to St-Petersburg somehow redefined my perceptions as cultural passenger, allowed me to develop a deeper sense of belonging, and to practice the awareness of being local in relation to my visitors from afar. What is our perception as foreigners traveling in a given city? How does a foreigner passing-by relate to the culture of a new city? The practice of traveling is multifaceted and possesses an intrinsic element of wandering. People travel for the most part with the purpose to reach a particular destination, in which case wandering is not desirable; however, one can travel with the intention to let destinations and experiences come to oneself by allowing wandering and embracing unexpected paths in the journey. Traveling with intention implies paying attention to cultural nuances that often escape the eye of the tourist, be willing to perceive differences and recognize their value, noticing the new reality not filtered trough the lens of the native culture. Sharing is inherent to traveling with intention, and the most compelling way to bond emotionally, to connect intellectually, to let oneself exist in the co-ownership of experiences; it is an act that requires trust, and involves thinking collectively, feeling communal, negotiating boundaries and finding a safe space to freely express oneself while honoring the community spirit. I am grateful for the opportunity to walk the streets of St-Petersburg hand in hand with those who were seduced by the idea of traveling to Russia, joining my sabbatical voyage, and discovering the wonders of such complex society. Contemplating the city in a new light through the lens of my visitors prompted me to reflect once more on the learning that occurred through the course of the previous months spent in delightful solitude or in the rewarding company of Russian youth. The reflection came this time accompanied by deep nostalgia facing the proximity of my departure. I realize that the most compelling lessons I learned this past year were ignited by conversations I had with students at the university, cafés, museums, outdoor spaces, and the stories we built together. They trusted me to speak from their heart, to listen with intention, to share personal feelings, diverse opinions without the fear of being judged. I was not alone in my journey of discovering, they offered me a rich variety of opportunities to approach the Russian idiosyncrasy and immerse in its intricate social paths. Spring found me also in Moscow. Words fall short to express the vertigo I experienced when I walked on the Красная Площадь (Red Square), and witness the overwhelming grandeur of the Кремль (Kremlin); the memory of my grandfather more vivid than ever, stories from his exile in Russia coming alive, commemorative music of old glories filling the air. Moscow's architecture offers the visitor a window into Soviet times. The power that the Kremlin exudes is intentional; never before I heard buildings speaking that loudly, never before architecture was so overpowering. It is a massive fortitude overlooking the Москва-река (Moskva River), and it is composed of emblematic buildings such the Государственный Исторический музей (State Historical Museum), the ГУМ (State Department Store), the Собор Василия Блаженного (Cathedral of Saint Basil), and Мавзолей Ленина (Lenin’s Mausoleum). The atmosphere in the square feels solemn; stone walls that witnessed the transformation of a nation; walls that still today are contentious, tensions with a different name transpiring the red brick. Moscow does not embrace you with pastel-colored palaces and charming canals, Moscow is determined, audacious, controversial, a world city. Moscow was home of many heroes, including my grandfather, and while I only had the chance to flirt with it for a bit, I am ecstatic for this brief encounter.
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“Love is life. All, everything that I understand, I understand only because I love. Everything is, everything exists, only because I love. Everything is united by it alone.” ~Leo Tosltoy
Despite the celebratory tone of the events, the faded faces of poster-made photographs parading through the streets looked with melancholy at the eyes of our contemporary society that continues to tolerate war, that has let political tensions escalated and neighbors become enemies, that has forgotten we all belong to the human family and should approach each other with empathy and respect. The world is crying tears of sorrow witnessing untamed outbursts of racial hate, religious disagreements, land disputes, rights violations.
The journey to global citizenship involves walking together intentionally toward cultivating peace and cooperation; let’s demonstrate a genuine commitment to participate responsibly and advocate for non-violent action to deal with conflict, so our society can become a more peaceful place for future generations. We must choose peace in our souls and work relentlessly to ensure that peace is our present and our legacy. What should be more eternal than peace? Let’s forge together a culture of peace by which we live; let solidarity be our muse.
\'Cities have the capability of providing something for everybody, only because, and only when, they are created by everybody.” ~Jane Jacobs As I continue to reflect on the notion of intentionality, I have been inspired by the creativity with which the young St-Petersburg approaches social interaction and explores models of engagement beyond the global corporate establishments. Urban visionary Jane Jacobs understood cities as living organisms in constant change, being shaped by the ways citizens interact with them, being adapted to the changing needs of the specific communities that conform the city fabric.
In exchange, one can savor barista-made cappuccinos and lattes, enjoy pots of an endless variety of loose tea, biscuits, cakes and каша. The first anti-café opened in Moscow in 2011, and this model, originally conceived in Russia, resonated well with folks interested in free-spaces and unmediated conversation. There are several anti-cafés in St-Petersburg;I am particularly fond on Цифербург (Zyferburg), where classical piano music often performed impromptu transports me to a state of embracing melancholy. Anti-cafés offer citizens a superb space for conversation, art performances, film discussions, poetry reading, solitude and solace. Anti-cafés display a variety of atmospheres within the airy space that they usually occupy, inviting customers to engage in conversation, read and write, connect digitally, play games and music, rest and sleep. They are filled with a miscellaneous of furniture pieces and styles, books-you-take-books-you-leave, a range of instruments, memorabilia, aiming to provide a space to just ‘be’. They are a reflection of the city’s intentionality and the commitment to give life to vacant properties at a symbolic price, and to nurture the convivial need that human beings crave. There is a history of such places in the country, particularly in the Leningrad of the seventies and eighties, a reminiscent of the traditions of the Soviet underground, when all forms of cultural interaction were privatized, and people felt compelled to create safe spaces for conversation, artistic cultivation and engagement within the privacy of their own flats; the type of environment that would foster free flows of ideas and creativity, where writers and musicians gathered and hosted literary events and kvartirniki (apartment concerts) –that, interestingly, are experiencing a revival nowadays, as an alternative to the less-inviting atmosphere to community bonding that night-clubs display. Anti-cafés are hidden from the eye of the tourist and are treasured by locals as a way of resisting the high cost, fast pace of the coffee culture exported by corporate chains such Costa Coffee or Starbucks. I learned about anti-cafés from those who have taught me the greatest lessons during my time in Russia, my students. They hosted inspiring class gatherings, poetry readings and music performances at Цифербург (Zyferburg), revealing once more the power of exploring non-traditional learning spaces, the value of the ‘city as a classroom’, the understanding that learning takes place in social contexts and culture is the determining factor for constructing knowledge. I am a firm believer that the most powerful learning happens in environments that are conducive to building trust, to liberating the mind from academic boundaries, to exploring the full potential of one’s mind and heart through dialogue and understanding.
![]() Cities speak, cities tell stories. Cities embody a mosaic of human experiences. Cities are landscapes where narratives travel waiting to be told, waiting to be heard. Cities can be ruthless, can isolate, marginalize, imperialize; cities can also foster creativity, cosmopolitan bonding, free-expression, self-realization. Cities witness an incessant flow of passengers who travel to the city, through the city, from the city. The semiotics of the city is intricate and city dwellers construct and reconstruct meaning within the realm of challenges and opportunities posed by urban landscapes. How do we develop an understanding of a particular city? Decoding the languages spoke by the city requires awareness of the visible and invisible entities that make up the quotidien, the ordinary; it involves noticing the physical apparent traits of a city as well as the less tangible aspects associated with citi-zens and human behavior. What do we notice when we move through the city? What are willing to notice? I have always trusted a city that serves the public with a transit system of good quality; it is an indicator of how committed the city is to the well being of its communities. A city that believes in offering transportation alternatives to passengers supports mobility in a more democratic way that urban spaces designed just for drivers, promotes a sense of collective daily commute, and cares about the vulnerability of our environment. When it comes to public transportation, my preference has always been the metro, whenever available.
All cultures have a sense of an underground, and the surface representation of culture is rooted in underground traditions, heritage, historical and present-day tensions. What we perceive in the surface of a society is not a complete representation of its culture, and therefore it is imperative to ‘go underground’ to gain a better understanding of the city. St-Petersburg offers passengers a very efficient way to travel underground. The metro system is the most beautiful I have ever seen, and the deepest in the world -the Admiralteyskaya station with 86 meters of depth is the deepest of the St-Peterburg metro. The original 1899 blueprints for the Leningrad metro were not implemented until after World War II, and in 1955 the first metro line from Площадь Восстания (Ploschad' Vosstaniya) to Автово (Avtovo) opened in November 15th. The St-Petersburg metro infrastructure’s current operational length is 113.6 kms, with 67 stations, that absorb 41% of the approximately 2 billion trips taken annually by public transport passengers. The St-Petersburg metro' s phenomenal architecture of marble structures, brass ornaments and vibrant stone mosaics is a legacy of past glories, endured times and labor valour -Soviet symbology, literary tributes, ideological statements-, and contemporary intentionality -efficiency, musicality, tidiness and free wifi. I adore the diverse flow of passengers on the metro, I can feel lost in a crowd with which I share the common purpose of traveling. I embrace the transient feeling of sharing a ride with a stranger or give the gift of a smile to someone in the other side of the escalator. I savor the rush of getting in and out the metro, and while riding, detenerme a observar las caras de los pasajeros, sus expresiones, imaginar sus historias. “Listen! |
Departing from St-Petersburg, we ourselves will engage in international metro research and base our observations in a variety of criteria such: language of the metro maps, functionality of the metro, schedules, building aspects, lighting, sustainability of the metro infrastructure, behavior of passengers, the spoken and unspoken rules of conduct. We envision to develop visual narratives of our metro observations in a variety of media and language expressions, and juxtaposing our perceptions with the data collected digitally from passengers worldwide. It is our hope that this work will unveil commonalities of human behavior in connection to city traveling, and will foster awareness and empathy about the way we relate to our fellow citizens in our native and foreign transit environments, often drenched by anonymity and isolation. |
“Education either functions as an instrument which is used to facilitate integration of the younger generation into the logic of the present system and bring about conformity or it becomes the practice of freedom, the means by which men and women deal critically and creatively with reality and discover how to participate in the transformation of their world.” ~Paulo Freire, Pedagogy of the Oppressed
The Russian New Year celebrations found me in Nicaragua, sharing memorable moments with my families from Providence and Olas de esperanza, and celebrating another year of fruitful collaborations among Providence College students and El Manzano youth. Conversations about connecting communities across borders have been prevalent within the Global Studies program at Providence College and has recently inspired me to expand its outreach in order to get St-Petersburg folks involved in the Waves of Hope venture. We, globalistas, aspire to engage learners in study abroad experiences that have a meaningful impact in local dynamics. The mission of our program understands that students and instructors, working side by side, need to interact in authentic cultural settings locally and internationally in order to gain a global perspective, and expects us all to participate in project-based initiatives that foster a deeper appreciation for cultural diversity.
Our commitment to service-learning inspired us to fully explore the potential of collaborative learning beyond traditional classroom boundaries and establish partnerships with NGOs working with Hispanic populations in the Providence area and Latin American countries to address educational challenges and promote sustainable practices in connection to art education, reading and writing literacy. Community engagement at the local level and abroad enables us to learn about and practice reciprocal relationships, and to cultivate our linguistic understanding and intercultural awareness. |
Involving Russian college students with English and Spanish linguistic backgrounds in the literacy week project we co-developed with Waves of Hope would be incredibly powerful –as it would offer an additional perspective to the kaleidoscope of experiences we are weaving from different angles, and it would enrich the variety of expertise and personal strengths brought into the partnership. My Russian courageous teachers have demonstrated such depth in understanding intercultural relationships and a genuine interest in engaging with youth in international rural settings that are unknown to their mostly urban experiences. Service-learning is still a young practice in the Russian university curriculum, and students could act as facilitators for future conversations around its implementation and serve as agents of change.
The prospects of such expanded partnership are exhilarating, and gathering around ‘the giving tree’ for conversation and intellectual exploration would gain a new purpose of reimagining educational spaces and enacting connections that would truly foster a more organic approach to education where participants contribute meaningfully to the learning of all involved. | The cohort of North-American and Russian students participating in the Waves literacy project would foster a deeper sense of cultural awareness, as learners would experience different facets of cultural immersion –within the Nicaraguan local community as well as within the student community to be formed abroad, blending perspectives from the west and the east that will collide in the common objectives of serving, learning and connecting. LISTEN to the MUSTN'ts, by Shel Siverstein |
"El ave que huye no se rinde, le rinde culto al aire." ~Martha Asunción Alonso, Skinny Cap
21/1/2015

After what it felt like an eternal impasse, escribo. The sense of stillness that I often experience when I am at home in Asturias turned to be a surprising turmoil of emotions this time. Reencuentros is perhaps the best word that captures six weeks of reflection, nurturing company and regained strength to continue a journey of discovery in St-Petersburg, that seems now scarily fleeing. Dialoguing with the past forces you to question decisions that impacted your present and might shape your future. Whenever I was faced with the question ‘What made you leave home?’, I struggled to produce a sensitive answer that did not convey betrayal, an answer that was true to my genuine desire to learn about myself and those who speak other languages, who live different lives, who express creativity and love in ways I could have never imagined. Reconnecting with old friendships that felt incredibly young and supportive made the blurred lines of my adolescence neat and senseful. My forty-four year old soul that has traveled the world in search of questions found at last the courage to share stories with a soothing sense of confidence, with the understanding that I still belong. I no longer feel burdened by the guilt of having abandoned my homeland, but reassured that my one-way ticket has an open return…a la casa que me vio nacer, al valle que me hizo crecer…
The geographies that compose the atlas of my life are not as divergent as one might think, the coordinates are established on the need to belong, on the feeling that I matter in the lives of others. As I am listening to Barbieri’s piece, ¿Por qué se oprime el alma? from the zarzuela A mis dos mujeres, I cannot help but thinking that memories sometimes sting, leave your soul dismantled, but being forgotten is an acute pain that human beings cannot bear. I want people to breathe my passion for life, my freedom, to be touched by my warmth, to feel my lightness, to remember me with a smile.
The geographies that compose the atlas of my life are not as divergent as one might think, the coordinates are established on the need to belong, on the feeling that I matter in the lives of others. As I am listening to Barbieri’s piece, ¿Por qué se oprime el alma? from the zarzuela A mis dos mujeres, I cannot help but thinking that memories sometimes sting, leave your soul dismantled, but being forgotten is an acute pain that human beings cannot bear. I want people to breathe my passion for life, my freedom, to be touched by my warmth, to feel my lightness, to remember me with a smile.
Por eso existió Muelle, fragmento, por Martha Asunción Alonso
|
Tampoco la poesía es del escriba,
o el pan del panadero, ni siquiera la cruz
de los cristianos.
Tampoco en la intemperie, hijos míos,
hay flechas de itinerario alternativo.
Por eso existió Muelle.
Para que nunca nos exiliemos de este álbum
(sigamos siendo todopoderosos
y tan rápidos
y jóvenes los padres libres,
feligreses los hijos).
Por la luz.
Por el cuero lactante de este invierno:
por vosotros.
o el pan del panadero, ni siquiera la cruz
de los cristianos.
Tampoco en la intemperie, hijos míos,
hay flechas de itinerario alternativo.
Por eso existió Muelle.
Para que nunca nos exiliemos de este álbum
(sigamos siendo todopoderosos
y tan rápidos
y jóvenes los padres libres,
feligreses los hijos).
Por la luz.
Por el cuero lactante de este invierno:
por vosotros.
I have been reflecting a lot lately on intentionality, particularly in the context of urban dynamics. I always –and perhaps naïvely nowadays- trusted the dialectic potential of cities, and while mindful of my limited understanding of St-Petersburg, I do believe it is committed for the most part to the social well-being of its citizens. It is fascinating to observe how the royal legacy, aristocratic idiosyncrasy, and a historic yearning for Westernization juxtapose with the contemporary identities present in the city. St-Petersburg dwellers celebrate with pride the world heritage of Petrograd and Leningrad, mindful of its architectural majesty, cultural polychromy, and humanistic stance, while they also challenge themselves and strive for originality and innovation.

Alternative art venues, such Project Loft ЭТАЖИ (ETAGY) or Pushkinskaya 10 offer more democratic opportunities for designers, film-makers, painters, photographers, writers, to showcase and share their work in social spaces beyond the city’s magnificent museums and private galleries. ЭТАЖИ is a 5-story building in Ligovsky prospekt 74, formerly a bakery that has been converted in community loft spaces devoted to modern art, local design, and slow-food, organic dinning. The creative energy of ЭТАЖИ is intoxicating -its intention sincere, the conversations that foster powerful, the diversity of the programming absolutely fantastic, and its commitment to promote positive social change through art inspiring. I treasure my Friday afternoons at ЭТАЖИ, wandering through the exhibition halls and corridors, writing at the Green Room Café, noticing the change of seasons from The Terrace, an open-air space for installations, often lost in language and in translation, feeling sometimes the nostalgia of our Providence AS220, already experiencing a sense of belonging to this versatile community. ЭТАЖИ is forgiving, is inspiring, spoke to me with the words of Rilke: “Go into yourself. Find out the reason that commands you to write; see whether it has spread its roots into the very depths of your heart; Describe your sorrows and desires, the thoughts that pass through your mind and your belief in some kind of beauty - describe all these with heartfelt, silent, humble sincerity and, when you express yourself, use the Things around you, the images from your dreams, and the objects that you remember.”

Pushkinskaya 10, an icon of the St-Petersburg counterculture in the post-war Soviet era, is an emblematic site of independent artwork. It houses a fascinating mosaic of galleries, concert venues and studios, and supports a vibrant artist community beyond the imperial canon of the city’s official fine art. It also offers a residency program for those seeking freedom and mindfulness in contemporary art making. On the afternoon of November 9, inspired by the Berlin of 1989 and visions of a borderless world, I walked into Pushinkanya 10, and was welcomed by the voices of graffiti tattooed in the walls, classical music cords emanating from the windows of artists apartments, and a invitation that I could not refuse. As I was wandering through the courtyard, mesmerized by this compelling urban canvas, I was approached by these two folks, Misha and Valera, who in a blend of Russian and broken English, persuaded me to enter the John Lennon Temple of Love, Peace and Music –those who know me well can attest that curiosity is my compass, so I was easily persuaded by this invitation. Not knowing quite what to expect, I followed Misha and Valera into a tiny studio enlarged chaotically and beautifully by the most incredibly collection of Beatles memorabilia I have ever seen. Hours went by soaking the British tunes of those who believed that all you need is love, and listening to the exhilarating tales of artist and temple regent Коля Bасин, who devoted his life to bring the Beatles dream to his native Russia.
The evening has settled by the time I left the Temple; I crossed the courtyard now dark and silent a bit disoriented, and as I exited to bustling Ligovsky prospekt, the city lights of St-Petersburg awoke my mind from what it felt like a dream. I was pulled into the crowd heading to the subway still feeling feather-light, after being wandering in a Dali-like landscape; the clocks have melted away under my feet, I have experienced stillness and I breathed dreams.
“A dream you dream alone is only a dream. A dream you dream together is reality.” ~John Lennon
Shadows on the wall Noises down the hall Life doesn't frighten me at all Bad dogs barking loud Big ghosts in a cloud Life doesn't frighten me at all Mean old Mother Goose Lions on the loose They don't frighten me at all Dragons breathing flame On my counterpane That doesn't frighten me at all. I go boo Make them shoo I make fun Way they run I won't cry So they fly I just smile They go wild Life doesn't frighten me at all. Tough guys fight All alone at night Life doesn't frighten me at all. Panthers in the park Strangers in the dark No, they don't frighten me at all. | That new classroom where boys all pull my hair (Kissy little girls with their hair in curls) They don't frighten me at all. Don't show me frogs and snakes And listen for my scream, If I'm afraid at all It's only in my dreams. I've got a magic charm That I keep up my sleeve I can walk the ocean floor And never have to breathe. Life doesn't frighten me at all Not at all. Not at all. Life doesn't frighten me at all. |
Maya Angelou’s verses resonated deeply with my learning partners this week in a creative writing workshop I crafted around Universal Children’s Day (November 20th). Words come short to describe the depth of Maya Angelou’s life and the legacy of her work. An inspiration to many, a heroine of our times, taught us lessons of fortitude, liberation and art. The Southern cadence of her voice and the powerful message of her lyrics captivated this young Russian audience newly acquainted with Angelou’s extraordinary poetic soul. Poetry dialogued with children’s rights in challenging, sensitive conversations that culminated with I wish writing reflection, and a renewed awareness for responsible action. I wanted to share some words from our learning circle:
“all children in the world were considered as flowers that should be kept delicately, so that no one would have even the smallest think to impede their innocence.” “all children would be brought up in a peaceful world without wars and free of fear.” “all children on Earth will have parents, food, health, toys and happy childhood.” “all the children played chess.” |
…and a final wish for us, adults, accountable for nurturing respectful relationships with ourselves and the world around us, relationships that matter:
Never let that child in you be afraid of playing. Never let that child in you stop being daring. Don’t let anybody tell you: ‘you are failing’. Walls are for drawing, not for fencing. Childhood flames subsiding, daunting adulthood shading; child, don’t hide, don’t tame your bravery. The world is running, racing fiercely; you bike along the seawall, don’t rush your journey. Keep on sketching your life with your color pencils. Walls are for drawing, not for fencing.
Never let that child in you be afraid of playing. Never let that child in you stop being daring. Don’t let anybody tell you: ‘you are failing’. Walls are for drawing, not for fencing. Childhood flames subsiding, daunting adulthood shading; child, don’t hide, don’t tame your bravery. The world is running, racing fiercely; you bike along the seawall, don’t rush your journey. Keep on sketching your life with your color pencils. Walls are for drawing, not for fencing.
I was fifteen when I first met tormented Rodion Raskolnikov and encountered the St-Petersburg of outcasts depicted by Dostoevsky in Crime and Punishment (Crimen y castigo –at the time, I read the text in Spanish). The Russian realism masterpiece was part of our 10th grade curriculum, and being such an avid reader, I devoured the novel shaken to the core by the daunting nihilism and the alienation experienced by human souls in the story. I was really challenged by the moral dilemmas posed by Dostoevsky and continued to be years later when I revisited his work. I could physically feel through Raskolnikov’s raw monologs his internal struggle between a rational justification for crime and his mental anguish and guilt. I was ambivalent about Dostoevsky’s antihero, and mostly fascinated by the costumbristic portrait of underground characters living in the shadows of the St-Petersburg bourgeois society. |
It was very powerful to actually wander through the neighborhood where the novel was situated and written, specially taken by the hand of such well-informed and poetic narrators as Alina, Nadia and Nadezhda. On a crisp November morning, we headed to Dostoevskaya metro station and exited at Sennaya ploschad’ (Haymarket Square). |
Almost immediately I sensed a very different energy in this part of the city. I was welcomed by a beautiful crisol of faces and languages, the hustle and bustle of the streets, the chaotic atmosphere of the market, the animated vendors -having grown up in the Mieres Plaza de Abastos backyard, these sounds transported me home. The atmosphere in Sennaya ploschad’ contrasts dramatically with the manicured gardens, pristine promenades and imperial architecture of Nevskyi prospekt.
"You're not Dostoevsky,' said the citizeness, who was getting muddled by Koroviev. |
Historically, the square has been a trading center, a hub for migrants and rural merchants, despite its unprivileged geographical location away from the Neva riverfront –where mansions of noble and royal families and government buildings were erected. The segregation of this part of the city was intentional and responded to Peter the Great’s vision for a Westernized St-Petersburg, modern, cosmopolitan, distanced from traditional Russian peasantry. The Sennaya ploschad’ of the mid-19th century portrayed in Crime and Punishment reflected an even deeper socioeconomic breach in the city that preluded the October Revolution of 1917. During Soviet times the square lost its eclectic bazaar flavor and became a symbol of industrialized power –a subway station, in the center of the plaza where the market used to be, and several other metal constructions were raised; the square was referred at the time as Peace Square. Today Sennaya ploschad’ is again a very vibrant mosaic of clothing and food vendors -who have taken the place of historic hay merchants, street performances and cafés, presided by the legacy of Soviet urban planning.
My ciceroni lead a fascinating walk from Sennaya ploschad’ exploring the real scenarios of Crime and Punishment: dissonant streets cram-full of apartment buildings pressed against each other, only accessible now through gated courtyards with rusty doors that we managed to enter; Kaznacheiskaya ulitsa, where Dostoevsky lived at the time he wrote the novel; Raskolnikov’s apartment in Grazhdanskaya ulitsa; kanal Griboyedova, the scene of the crime;Kokushkin and Voznesenski bridges; the taverns of Stoliarny pereulok… I drank in my teachers’ words as we walked; they spoke so proudly about their national literary hero, recounting the events of the novel with passion… and the story unfolded again in front of my eyes, the Dostoevskian world of the отверженный (outcast) revealed once again dark and provocative.
"Suffer! Maybe Nikolay is right in wanting to suffer. I know you don’t believe in it—but don’t be overwise; fling yourself straight into life, without deliberation; don’t be afraid—the flood will bear you to the bank and set you safe on your feet again. What bank? How can I tell? I only believe that you have long life before you." ~Fyodor Dostoevsky, Crime and Punishment |
Autumn, by Alexander Sergeyevich PushkinOctober has arrived - the woods have tossed their final leaves from naked branches; A breath of autumn chill - the road begins to freeze, The stream still murmurs as it passes by the mill, The pond, however's frozen; and my neighbor hastens to his far-flung fields with all the members of his hunt. The winter wheat will suffer from this wild fun, and baying hounds awake the slumbering groves. |
There is nothing more compelling than learning about a place through the stories of locals; the eyes of an outsider are never able to capture the genuine spirit, the chants and whispers, the joys and struggles experienced by a town. I was incredibly fortunate to explore Tsarskoye Selo, Pushkin, in the company of a local. On a cadent autumn afternoon, we wandered through the vast Ekaterininsky Park, spreading like a forest, guarded silently by majestic marble statues, presided by the baroque imperial palace and decorated with precious pavilions, bridges and fountains, that Catherine the Great commissioned to prominent 18th century European architects.

Tsarskoye Selo provided summer solace to the Russian royalty and hosted an active intellectual life; the Russian empress was especially fond on the arts and was committed during her reign to expanding public educational opportunities in the country. While indulged by the splendid architecture of the Russian цари’ summer residence, the calmness of the gardens and the stunning colors of the fall, I was mostly seduced by the tales I was told. There was a timid sense of pride in Olga’s hometown narratives, particularly when sharing childhood memories. The magnificence of Ekaterininsky Park was her playground; the labyrinth of the French garden her puzzle, the Turkish Bath pavilion her old-time favorite refuge; frequent visits to the palace and the concert hall with her parents instilled on her a deep appreciation for art, literature and music, and certainly shaped the sophisticated young woman she is today.
Tsarskoye Selo is daringly beautiful; architectonical glories embedded in a stunning natural environment, a clear statement of imperial power, a historical testimony. But history is written in books, often filtered by dominant discourses; I am more interested in the real stories told by real people. We walked for hours through the park and I listened to the rhythms of Olga’s voice, I listened to the trees, and while transported in time, I felt incredibly present -I experienced a true sense of wholeness.
“Trees are sanctuaries. Whoever knows how to speak to them, whoever knows how to listen to them, can learn the truth. They do not preach learning and precepts, they preach, undeterred by particulars, the ancient law of life.” ~Hermann Hesse, Wandering
Author
A curious mind, a believer in dialogue, an idealist dreaming in multiple languages, a nomad heart in search of belonging.
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