Oh, I'm in Europe

I can't decide which is stranger: the ubiquitous smoking indoors, or the ubiquitous drinking outdoors.

Last night, our program director, Vera, led us to a club owned by a friend of her daughter's. It's called Masterskaya (Мастерская, or The Studio) and is located in the center of town. The city at night is so beautiful, and the area we walked through to get to the club looked so very European. Inside the club: dim lighting, pale walls, a cloud of smoke hovering above the tables, just crowded enough to be cozy. It was only 300 rubles, about 10 dollars, to get in. Not long after we arrived, the band began playing. A cellist, violinist, pianist, and accordion player gave us two hours of tango music that simultaneously broke and soothed my heart. All four were outstanding musicians. I've never seen an accordion played that way, and the cellist was superb--such a stereotypical artist, all floppy hair, passion, and effortlessness. I sipped my drink and smiled at my friends and felt beautiful in my nicest dress. I needed it. It couldn't have been more perfect.

I'm paying for my lazy weekend now, but somehow the homework just doesn't seem like such a big deal.