From the West!

  Stench of urine, hooch and cabbage on the staircase was taking the breath away. Worn lastrico and a gallery of antisemitic phallus interpretations on the walls disgusted all over again. As usually broken elevator made me admire whole four floors of cocklike artistry, paired with breathing with an atmosphere lacking oxygen even more than Himalayan peaks. With a bit of a pant and a feeling of irreversibly lost health I have pressed yellowish and partially broken doorbell. I wasn’t pretty sure if it triggered any effect though, as shouts coming out from the corner flat would easily top a TIR horn. Ferocious knocking truly outraged plywood substitute of anti-theft doors, which pathetic clatter failed dismally with the racket on the floor. Without unnecessary rush I pressed on hideously screwed handle. 

  The door have given up easily and then I saw… (no, not the thing that the tainted western mind would be thinking about), the view that was such a disgusting cliche. The impression was close to deja vu. For the, kurwa (which is unfortunatelly not translatable in any language or any context, ever, never and KURWA), hundredth time my brother was utterly wasted. I found him, kneeling on the floor and rubbing his occiput. There was, therefore, something unsettling in this image of eastern downfall. Smell of hooch was losing against the scent of industrial linoleum polish after passing doorstep of his postcommunist chamber. And the gaze of him, who kneeled as Henry IV under the walls of Canossa, was undoubtedly less misty than you could suppose considering assumed state of blackout caused by water-ethanol mixture. 

  Muttering speech which consisted of meaninglessly combined “western rot, lack of friction and my fucking head” wasn’t enough to figure out what has happened here. Here in the lair of a guy soaked with eastern culture so much that oppressed potatoes begged for granting an asylum in his household. Gesture of hand thrown into the air has pointed kitchen direction. I stepped over a plastic bag and entered the kitchen. Nothing out of ordinary was going on there, except maybe a bottle of coke standing on the top. It might have, or even should have drawn attention of someone who knew my brother. 

  Bottle of brownish, saturated with carbon dioxide fluid couldn’t have possibly been dragged here by his own being. He wasn’t expecting any unwanted guests and Jehovah witnesses stopped knocking his door a long time ago. What’s more it was the middle of the week. Something was undoubtedly out of usual. As unusual as appearance of honest politicians somewhere in the democratic world.

From East...

The odour of western corruption was recognizable well before I got to the staircase. Not any staircase, of course, but ours, eastern, with real Slavic lastrico and panelies. Lastrico itself grimaced recognizably as if it smelled the capitalistic stench. I ran up the stairs (as the elevator haven’t passed its annual examination by the UDT - Umbrella Dodging Technicians or whatever they call each other, I mean, we all know that this is another administrational cell established to fuck up your life). With a bit of a pant and a feeling of irreversibly lost health I opened the door to my flat and stepped on my carpet. Its texture was undoubtedly unusual, emanating with anxiety. Disturbed I headed towards kitchen (which took me like 2,5 steps together with avoidance of yellow plastic bag). I was right! She standed in the kitchen, tall and proud, gazing at me with utter contempt, so common for Western folks. Some like to enjoy it while sipping whisky. Others just during warm weekend. Whatever warm ,which I have seen only in television, means. Fortunately i know its true form, it is unable to deceive me with its sweet flavor. Slavic instinct is well suited to defend against obesity and caries by the way, as it is most common to use it as a poison against uncommon guests, ideally distant family members and Jehovah witnesses. Suddenly my stream of thoughts was abruptly stopped by a hit on my occiput against under-ceiling cubbyhole, mysterious lost of balance was not caused by intoxication though, and western rot couldn’t have been so strong… Shined linoleum. Utter lack of adhesion in contact with woolen socks is an inspiration for sci-fi writers and designers of magnetic rails for a good reason. Stars swirled in front of my eyes disrupting order of rubber fugue imitation. Wildly rotating constelations were of no help while I was trying to recall, deduce or solve this puzzle by any means. Shopping, perfect tidiness and western rot, what’s more in the middle of the week!

So we begin!

Eastern block countries started to lustfully stare in the west direction after the process of decommunisation (if one is trying to imagine the lustful stare, he (or she) should put abominable, greasy piece of knuckle in front of a dog, top it with bacon (I mean knuckle, not the dog) and then seperate animal from it with impenetrable plexiglass). The forbidden fruit as we used to describe heritage of west culture, has been stimulating our imagination for a quarter of the century (if you will put aforementioned knuckle in front of obese person who is on a strict diet, you can easily and quite vividly imagine the idea of the forbidden fruit). Many say that as we assimilate trends of the West, we forget our Slavic roots and eastern mentality (here you can use the same knuckle to envision eastern mentality, simply take the knuckle and throw it away, just not to let it be eaten by anyone else, even if you’re starving to death). This process, however, began long time before the decommunisation, for centuries our habits and traditions were blending on multiple fields. Here, on this blog, our goal is to show you the history of mixing west with east, their cuisine, habits and people, in one cultural melting pot. As we’re not historians, sociologists or even keen antropologists you should take everything written down here with a pinch of salt. If this salt accidentaly contaminated your eye, you should close it and let the speech syntesizer read the note for you outloud. We will try to diversify coming notes, sometimes you may find some photos here, maybe a video, everything of course in available centuries ago HD technology (high demoralisation). Cheers and stay tune!