Not very often, but every once in a while, I miss Moscow. I don't miss the horrible pollution or the bad traffic or the violent crime and scary accidents (boy, I saw a lot of corpses in Russia. A. Lot. Of. Corpses.)
But I do miss parts of the culture. The place. The feel. The language. The city.
I used to speak Russian very well. And I knew Moscow like the back of my hand. I don't think I know it anymore, though.
I just discovered that Radio Moscow (Radio Moskva) is one of the stations available on Real Player. It's 1:39 in the morning, and I'm listening to the host and his guest (one Vera Vassiliyevna) talk about huge, hearty South American tomatoes. (Did you know that they make a wonderful decorative plant?) And, dumb as it may be, it's very soothing. I haven't really heard strong Moscow Russian in quite a while. It sounds good.
Tomatoes. Go figure.
I used to listen to Radio Moscow all the time at home in my place near Ostankino. It was good radio for weekend afternoons and evenings alone, doing dishes, reading, just hanging out. It makes me miss an era in my life when I was fearless and financially stable. (And I had a hideous kelly green car. The Original Crapmobile: a 1987 Zhiguli, Model 5. Loved that stupid car.)
Okay, enough melancholy for almost 2 in the morning...