Anna Kern, the unnamed woman that Pushkin’s poem “To. . .” is to.

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This is me at cafe Квартира 44 ("Apartment 44") in Moscow, enjoying some good Russian food, Cuban tobacco and Kentucky bourbon. I come to write this blog from my experiences as a student of Russian, a teacher of Russian history and with an interest in all things Russian. Since I was a teenager I have worked to reconcile the Cold War narrative in the U.S. of "Russians" as the greatest threat to American Way of Life, with the great genius and humanity I discovered in Russian literature. I feel that the more I learn about Russians, the more I learn about people in general—their successes and failures, hopes and fears, the good, the bad and the beautiful.