A Russian Story- Part 1

Don’t cry for me, Romania!

Photo by Maria Emelianova

To go, not to go, to go?

Moscow... World Rapid and Blitz Championships. I had promised myself to play this time. Watching the live transmission from St. Petersburg 2018 I cursed myself at least a dozen times for not being there; promised myself to play after finishing 8th at the European Blitz Championship in Monaco once again...

 „I must go then.”

„Dear Irina,/ Unfortunately...”- a great start of the answer I got from the Federation about my upcoming trip to Moscow... „They don’t believe in me, maybe I should not go after all...”. It is a bit funny how being young, one doesn’t believe in himself even though people keep telling him how capable and talented he is. A few years later though, things tend to change- no one seems to believe you’re capable of any progress, while your belief in yourself grows exponentially day by day... „F*** everyone, I will go!”.

A few clicks later, I was registered in the tournament and had a ticket.

There’s a sort of going back to my childhood every time I come to Russia. Why? Well, even though I was born in an independent Moldova, the Soviet reminiscences were still there. People had a hard time forgetting the horrors of War but also the little guilty pleasures borrowed from Russia stayed in Moldova until nowadays. Eating „sirniki” , „borodinski” bread and „borshi” are to this day my biggest pleasures. That’s why I always have mixed feelings coming here, it’s like being able to have all I wanted as a kid without the need of any adult consent!

Any guesses on what I did on my first evening after landing in Moscow? Had some „borshi” of course! With a full stomach and a warmed heart, I went to bed. Sleeping proved to be a difficult task though- uneasy thoughts were assaulting my brain „I will show them it was a mistake not to support my coming here!” , „What if I play badly?”, „Why do I always have to prove something?”, „Will there be a Romanian flag next to me tomorrow?”,  „Maybe it was better never to leave home...”

A little tear made it’s way to the pillow... 

They say Moscow does not believe in tears... Romania, do you?

(To be continued)