Jón Ólafsson

There is a man standing close to the door when I enter the train at Aeroport metro station heading downtown. He might be coming from Sokol or even all the way from Rechnoi Vokzal. He is not tall but well built. Broad shoulders, thinning light hair. His features are manly. He is reading a magazine [...]

It was a bit like Bugsy Malone. Children in adult roles. The are all dressed up in military uniforms in this case, but the event is organized by people who are themselves old and whose views are, well, nationalistic. The cadets, aged 7 to 15 are invited on the stage where they dance waltz under [...]

Moldavia? No Mordovia. No one has ever heard of Mordovia. Even Moscovites get confused. Mordovia, when they finally get it, smells of camps. It’s in Siberia, right? No. Not right. It’s right here. Closer to home than Piter. Almost. But the smell is right. It is famous for camps. Therefore the association. There still is [...]