|
Post by Valodya Bassarov on Mar 22, 2005 21:03:54 GMT -5
"Very well, we should head back to the protest anyway." Bassarov pays, but realizes that he doesn't have that much money left and since the leaders are gone, they do not have the travel stipend they were promised. He might have to get a job at some point, unless he wants to borrow money from his parents. Since his relationship with his parents is already strained he doesn't want to bother them.
The three head back out the door for the protest.
"So I suppose you've never been to a protest, have you Selja? I like them. I prefer them to say...going to the movies..." Bassarov doesn't have much of a life outside politics. Fun and politics have become one.
|
|
|
Post by Selja Hakalamaki on Mar 22, 2005 21:06:39 GMT -5
"No, I've never been to a protest. Really I've been fine with the way things are going, but I can at least look. It never hurts to look." I say as we walk.
|
|
|
Post by Valodya Bassarov on Mar 22, 2005 21:09:40 GMT -5
"It is interesting since there are people of all kinds of political beliefs here. I bet that there are at least seven different socialist groups here today, from democratic socialist, sparticist, to Maoist. That's one of the reasons I like these things since so many different people unite against something we think is injust. Today it is against the potential invassion of Syria." Bassarov explains.
|
|
|
Post by Selja Hakalamaki on Mar 22, 2005 21:31:55 GMT -5
"I thought the invasion was to get rid of terrorists." I state. "But I'm glad that you and your friends can get people to unite. That's always a good thing."
|
|
|
Post by Valodya Bassarov on Mar 22, 2005 21:35:46 GMT -5
Bassarov doesn't say anything in response. He figures it is best not to debate politics with her.
"But anyway, it is great you are done with your classes. Maybe we can do something this evening to celebrate."
|
|
|
Post by espiranza on Mar 22, 2005 21:35:58 GMT -5
I spend some more time in the village interviewing the villagers, but they will tell me nothing.
Frustrated I return to my own village. I missed three days of work, but at least the season is coming to an end.
I feed some fruit to the quetzal caged outside our small shack home, then help my mother make some dinner.
"I could not find out anything. The village was in ruins and people were missing, but the villagers would not tell me what happened." I say to my mother and father.
|
|
|
Post by Eva Schicklgruber on Mar 22, 2005 21:38:16 GMT -5
(regardless of any previously stated location this is taking place in Munich.)
"Well look at this, a puppet of the leftist government sent to rain on our parade. Will we let this stand?" I shout out to the crowd, who all shout back NEIN!! As I look over the crowd I see one man, surrounded by guards, who is remaining unusually calm... I may have to talk to him when we're done.
|
|
|
Post by Selja Hakalamaki on Mar 22, 2005 21:39:36 GMT -5
"That'd be nice, thanks. Maybe we should go out for dinner instead of just staying around a hotel and eating that microwave crap." I say hopefully.
|
|
|
Post by Valodya Bassarov on Mar 22, 2005 21:42:12 GMT -5
"Sure, that sounds like a great idea. Hopefully Sakari can join us as well." Bassarov turns to Sakari wondering when he will be leaving for Helsinki.
|
|
|
Post by soledad on Mar 22, 2005 21:45:01 GMT -5
The socialist party in Bogota gives me the phone number of Alejos, a socialist who was at the meeting in Moscow. Maybe he can tell me what happened to Alvaro, our beloved leader.
I call him and leave a message:
"My name is Soledad Madera. Please come to Columbia. I need to know what happened to a socialist who was in Moscow. Maybe you saw him. Please call me..." I leave my number and hope for the best.
|
|
|
Post by Selja Hakalamaki on Mar 22, 2005 21:52:43 GMT -5
"Yeah." I say, trying to sound enthusiastic. Personally I was hoping to spend the time with just Bassarov, but I don't let on.
|
|
|
Post by Sakari Lehtinen on Mar 22, 2005 21:55:06 GMT -5
Sakari stands beside the two, leaving a modest tip behind, which was all he could afford.
"I'll be leaving as soon as we have some other business taken care of, or at least started." I reply.
|
|
|
Post by Valodya Bassarov on Mar 22, 2005 21:55:50 GMT -5
"That's right. So how do we go about meeting the IRA?"
|
|
|
Post by dead character on Mar 22, 2005 21:56:04 GMT -5
I sit in my hotel and look out the window at the streets of Damascus. I start to write.
"There is no war yet, but the rumors still circulate. I look out at the street and everything looks peaceful and quiet. People carry out their daily business doing their best to live a normal life under the shroud of fear. I am afraid and waiting. It is this waiting that is the worst..."
|
|
|
Post by Selja Hakalamaki on Mar 22, 2005 22:02:55 GMT -5
"The IRA, what?" I ask, somewhat surprised. I have already decided that I am willing to spend the rest of my life with this man, regardless of what sort of odd political things come up, but this one comes as a shock.
(work time, g2g)
|
|