uno mundo

There are times, like this exact moment, when I miss Moscow so much I can taste it. You see I am sitting in a coffee shop, World Cup Coffee & Tea, studying for the GRE and all I can think about is how much I miss One World Café.

During last year and a half of nursing school, when going to library made me realize just how young college freshmen are, I studied exclusively at One World. I was there so often the baristas knew my order and often had it waiting for me, in fact, I ran into on the baristas here in Portland the other day and she referred to me as “hey! Hazelnut latte!” (Oh man do I miss those hazelnut lattes.) I was one the regulars. All the faces were familiar, and I had nicknames for all the other regulars. I shudder to think what their nicknames for me were.

Such is not the case with World Cup Coffee & Tea. For one, it’s not even in Portland, but Beaverton, so I’m stuck people watching in the suburbs. (It is, however, attached to a Powell’s location, thus the basis of its appeal.) There aren’t any Hot Construction Workers, or weird haired people, just old women, businessmen and mommies and their children. Note to self: don’t move to the suburbs at this point in my life. I miss the Moscow-People. I miss the essence of One World. I miss sitting at the table with the secret drawer.

I’m sitting in a coffee shop, listening to Ben Folds, and missing Moscow.

Do you know what the weird thing about it is? I have a longing for Moscow, but not necessarily for home. Moscow and home are not synonymous anymore. Well, Moscow will always be home in the sense that it’s where I’m from, where my parents are and it will always be a place of comfort. But my heart isn’t there, and I don’t belong in Moscow anymore.
I’m very much in love with Portland, and am quite happy here. I don’t know how long this will last or how long I’ll be here. But for now, Portland is home.