Moscow

What can I say about Moscow.
Can I say how beautiful it is here? Can I say how it is a huge fairy tale city? Can I say that the towers of the Kremlin melt perfectly with the huge skyscraper of the Samsung building?
The city merges old buildings with new. It merges new money with old babushkas.
I fall in love with this city. I fall in love with Cortney and Adam, the other two volunteers. I want to touch them and I do. I touch them on their shoulders - they bring me to tears.
We sneak bottles of vodka and paper cups of coffee on to Red Square and toast. To the city. And to us.
We throw pennies, kopyeks, over our shoulders in front of the gates, as we've seen the others do.
We take each others pictures.
I forgot how nice it is to travel with friends, and the three of us have spilled our guts to each other the way people who are thrown together do. We tell each other intimate secrets. We hold each other and choke up when we speak of the children, and what they did to make us happy or so sad.
I feel especially close to Adam and this thrills me and excites me and makes me hopeful. Adam is much older than I am. And since Cortney goes to sleep early, the two of us go out for beers or coffee and we tell each other our stories and we make each other laugh. And when we walk down the street and our arms or shoulders touch .. or when he leans over my shoulder into my ear to point out a landmark ... I feel so hopeful. Adam is going through a breakup with his wife; he is older than me and is not really "available," but I feel so much hope. That some day, I will be loved.