CURIOUS ABOUT COMMUNISM? (I Shouldn't Have Come Here?)

Tomorrow, I'm traveling to a communist country. I'm actually allowed to tell you its name, but I don't want to. I want to understand the communists better so I can begin to comprehend why they hurt my family and so many others. Or maybe it wasn't as bad as some people have claimed?

My mother, while twirling several strands of her crow black hair, said that conditions in early communism were much better than in later communism (including before and right after the collapse and revolution). Early-stage communism does possess some utopian elements, which tend to manifest fairly evidently, sooner or later.

"In theory, it sounds nice, ideal even. Yet when put into practice by imperfect and often traumatized and/or abused people, the results can ultimately prove to be catastrophic, anti-human, and anti-life."

Now I'm visiting a communism that survived, prevailed in spite of everything. Communism. To me this word sounds so much better than fascism and national socialism. The truth is that, first and foremost, I'm writing this as an apology both to communist zealots and anti-communist ideologues and demagogues. Too many times, I've rejected you, I've looked down on you, I've judged you, I've insulted you, I've criticized you, I've attacked you. Not anymore.

You are the reason I've decided to embark on this voyage. I'm waving goodbye to my mother right now. She begged me not to go. "Daughter, Sena, named after my grandmother, how can you travel there when you can barely speak the language? I implore you. Please don't go."

But I didn't change my mind this time.

...

Russia!! I know I said I wouldn't tell you, but I'm too excited! Initially, I thought I'd travel to Communist Korea; but, when I thought about what happened to that hapless young man, I suffered from nightmares and changed my mind, just in case.

I remember someone once saying that the Russian language is faggoty or faggot-like or whatever. I'm not sure what to think about that. I guess Russian can be more theatrical and dissonant compared to many other languages. Perhaps one could argue that the Russian language is also a bit of a struggle (perhaps both the storm and its eye) of opposing forces and styles, et cetera.

Upon leaving the airport and walking into the foreign (both old and new) world of Saint Petersburg, I can't help but laugh when I see a bunch of handsome policemen, all clad in pink and red and in good shape, stationed at seemingly every street corner.

"Bloody Poutine!"

Internally, I want to reply to these revolutionary cries from the Saint Petersburg police with my own yells: You're all monsters. Why do you insult your glorious leader this way? Don't you listen to and read the words of anti-imperialist livestreamers, podcasters, writers, and political theorists? Do you want to commit a revolution against your (criminal) government? Don't you see the real criminals are in the West and Israel?

The book in my purse reminds me of better options. It's limited edition, NonViolent Communication. "When you say 'Bloody Poutine!' I feel angry because I want to hear additional information to help me better understand what's happening and why you're saying that. Could you please explain it to me?"

"We'll do better than explain. We'll escort you to the karaoke-casino where Vladimir Poutine himself is having a swell time. (A hell of a time, in fact!) He's singing 'The Glorious Land' by PJ Harvey. I can't remember what else. While I walk you there, I'll try to explain. More than fifty percent of young Russian men have died in the war. I don't know how many of us believed in the war one hundred percent, but you'll have to admit that for so many lives to be sacrificed in this seemingly never-ending war is a profound sacrifice, not to mention a profound loss."

"But at least some of the podcasters I listen to tend to take Russia's side (or at least often did in the past)."

"Most of them live and grew up in the West. Many were born there (too). Most of these people had and have it better than most. They're obsessed with politics and dogma."

"Is Russia on the verge of revolution?" I ask, my voice trembling a bit.

"No," he says and smiles, giggling. "No, it's just that things have gotten so bad that we have to perform some anti-government dissident political theater from time to time. I'm not sure that all of the masses really believe in it, though."