Радиостанции России

I woke up Wednesday morning pretty bummed. No missed calls, no voicemails, and no text messages. Without showering or getting dressed, I grabbed a yoghurt, brewed some chai, and, dismayed, slipped back under my covers. Not quite ready to give up, I kept my cell in arms reach at volume 7 as I halfheartedly read “The Song of the Falcon” by Gorky for my literature class. It was only 8 o’clock. Perhaps the Office for Foreign Affairs at Moscow State University hadn’t opened yet. An hour and a half later, I lay in the same position, even less-heartedly reading Gorky and even less optimistically (I had by this time tossed it in frustration to the foot of my bed) waiting for my phone to ring. It rang. Unknown number.

I, disbelievingly answered, “Слушaю” (I’m listening). In the split second before my ears adjusted to attentive-listening mode, necessary for any fast-paced Russian cell phone conversation, images of my new friendship passed before my eyes. A photograph– Hillary and I cheek to cheek– to replace the one of Bush and I. Hillary and I taking Vodka shots together (flashback to kentucky?) Hillary and I in the White House, on Vacation, birthday parties…

Hil and I

So I guess its pretty obvious what happened. The guy was calling to invite me to be a student in the welcoming group before she gave her huge speech in the main 1000-person auditorium. He said my name was on the list. He said sorry about not calling earlier- but it had to do with security. He said to come in 20 minutes. Even if I ran from my apartment to mayakovskaya (my metro), pushed aside the kissing lovers on the 200-stair escalator to make a faster descent, and sprinted from universitet metro station (in some sort of shoe respectable enough to greet Hillary Clinton in) I would still be 20 minutes late. I went back to reading Gorky. Oh well.

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