![]() “I wouldn’t mind a little deprivation if everything wasn’t so dull and gray. Five months of bitter cold, inedible food, filthy dorms, boring classes … how would she survive it? Two weeks in the Soviet Union and she was already anxious to go home. The gristle is the best part! Only four and a half months to go.” If you don’t like fish head soup or unidentified gray meat, that is your problem. “The Soviet Union produces much food that is tasty. “What are you talking about, comrade?” Karen put on an exaggerated Russian accent. “There’s nothing to eat,” Laura complained. Somewhere nearby, invisible to the naked eye, there was, apparently, a fire hazard. “Flammable,” Karen mumbled, reflexively translating. ![]() Laura and her roommate Karen tramped along the frozen mud road that led through the university, past a wall with OGNEOPASNO! painted on it in huge red letters. ![]()
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