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It’s the First of September, and I am teaching out of town once again, in a different music school. The journey is even more tortuous than to my previous workplace. The same bog-like streets, stray dogs which the cars end up running over, drunkards in the local trains, the shaky footbridge over the tracks. It never ends, it is the cross which you carry and carry until you find yourself hanging from it.
As for my classmates, Artem got himself a teaching post at a music school in Moscow’s inner city; Vika and Nadia were accepted for post grads. Vika now hangs out with musicologists, she listens to what they say, remembers it all, writes it down when she gets home and that’s how she gathers material for her dissertation. Tanya and Lena got positions as research fellows at museums and pub
