After returning from a day at the museum of modern history, I found the apartment full of people - my host mom's two daughters, two grandsons, their wives, her great granddaughter, and three other friends. One of her friends was the cutest little old lady I've ever seen. After informing me that she and my host mom have been friends for 62 years, she proceeded to load my plate with food: some type of potato salad, bread, tomatoes, cucumbers, a cheese-garlic spread (YUM), liver (eh...), caviar on eggs (......), chicken, and some type of little fish. A million toasts were made and everyone ate, drank, and was merry.
My host mom started the rounds of toasting by reading a poem that she and one of her daughters had made to honor the memory of her husband, who passed away a while ago. Today is his birthday, and he would have been 92 years old.
I quickly realized that if her husband would have been 92 years old on today of all days, this means he was born on 7 November 1917, the day of the revolution.
So...tonight we celebrated his birthday, which also just happens to be the on the day of the revolution.
We were probably celebrating both.
I love it.
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