More than likely the top spy reporters from Wikileaks are way too busy telling us what the Ambassador from Portugal said over afternoon tea in 1977 to take note of my own diplomatic activities, but as it so happens I have been pretty international the last few days.
For starters, there was the Belorussian underground cabaret. Ever since I mentioned some vaguely Belorussian heritage back in July, my friends have been kind enough to point out everything they know about Europe´s last totalitarian dictatorship... aka the old country. Nevermind that the country of Belarus didn´t exist for any of the time that my ancestors lived there, I´m perfectly content to adopt assorted homelands. So the Belorussian cabaret happened to be performing at a former (or possibly current) squat around the corner from me (my talent for moving into the classiest neighborhood a city has to offer never fails to impress). We wandered through a tunnel into an underground chamber that was two stories high with a stage. The concert was really cool. I was fortunate to have my very own Russian/Belorussian translating friend, who looked at me at one point during the concert and said, Rachel, I am pretty sure you are the only American in the room. About half way through the concert, a bold, flashy blend of German Cabaret, American puppet theater Vaudeville and Belorussian... Belorussian-ness (?), it occurred to me that I really hoped the place didn´t burst into flames, because we were so tightly packed into a windowless, smoke-filled chamber... but, it didn´t and here I am to tell the tale.
My absurd slavic escapades continued when the same friend invited me to the opening night of the Berlin Russian Film Festival, to which she, as a Russian, had received a complimentary ticket. Considering my new-found love for everything Rusky, of course I accepted. When I met her at the fully decked out, Soviet-style cincema (as mentioned in a previous blog, apparently there is a strong correllation between the political power of a particular country´s Communist Party and the sparkley-ness of all of said country´s theater curtains), the tickets were gone. Apparently this was an invitation-only event. And, I was not invited.
I spotted my friend across the room, waved, and proceeded to walk over to her to explain the situation.
"Sorry", I said, "There aren´t any tickets left, so I think I have to go home."
"Rachel, you just walked past the guards, you are already in", she responded.
Ok, so, I looked behind me only to see 4 beefy guards, who I had obliviously walked right through. Oblivious is admittedly a word that has been used more than once to explain my interactions in Germany, but this was even impressive for me. I really do not make a habit of sneaking into things. I am obnoxiously honest about such things. But, she was right, I was already in.
The only possible solution was to quietly walk upstairs, sit dead center, and relax and enjoy the show. We saw the Berlin opening of a movie that is nominated for an Oscar for best foreign film. It is called Kraj in Russian, Am Rand der Welt, in German, and who knows what it is called in English. So, if I understood the movie properly (Russian language with German subtitles), it was about the experience of a train driver who returns to Siberia after the Second World War, interacts with Russians imprisoned in the Gulag, and falls in love with a German girl who survived in the wilderness of Siberia during the war, and had no idea that the Second World War happened until she met him. It was fascinating. It was also cool to hear from the ambassadors, directors, actors, etc who showed up for the film. It was also nice to drink their champagne. Thank you Russia. First my ancestors snuck out, now I snuck in!!!
And diplomatic activity number three, my trip to the Bangladesh Embassy. So I suppose any reader to this blog (if in fact there are any) has noticed my preoccupation with Bangladesh. At the dinner at the end of the summer where we learned a lot about Bangladesh, I befriended the first secretary of the Bengali Embassy. Actually I had no idea he was the first secretary. He was just sitting kind of near me, and we were chatting, and the next thing I knew I was invited to visit the embassy.
So I went.
Well, once I got on the train to head to the embassy, it occurred to me that I maybe should have read something about Bangladesh before going. But, it was of course too late, so I winged it. We had such a nice time. The First Secretary and I sipped tea and chatted about democracy and life and corruption and who knows what else. I´m pretty sure that on the classy diplomacy scale this puts me at 1 and real politicians at -4 or so. Plus Bengali tea, delicious.
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