Babuska- lunchtime

This is them dancing as I first arrived

Russian band performs in a commercial center of Irkutsk- another example of breaking through the dark clouds

The architecture is grey, shoddy, and without artistry. It's the height of summer, but the intermittent rain, chilled air, and feel of the people matches that of winter. The Hangover of Communism is etched across the disgruntled faces of the population of Irkutsk.I munch on some black currants I purchase at a farmers market, my hands stained by their dark juice, for the moment sustaining me as I explore the streets.Somewhere in the distance- the vibration of music. Though it sounds like an eerie lamentation, I'm drawn to it nonetheless.In the middle of this city with a heavy negative energy, I witness the human spirit swimming upstream against the current.A younger mustached man in a plaid shirt and an elderly Asian woman, seated, her cane resting between her knees, both semi-awkwardly sway their bodies to the music. It's not close to ballet, but this flow of expression draws my singular focus. My body tingles with the recognition of the blessing they're unconsciously offering others .I film them for a minute, then pocket my camera and join them. For two minutes we sway and groove together, a smile spreading across their faces, Heads turn from those walking by, perhaps via our vibration, we'll help rouse and awaken the same energy of joy which exists inside each of them.The song ends and I nod at my fellow dancers in thanks and acknowledgement. They beam smiles back to me and the old lady takes my hand and holds it dearly to her face. I offer them some currants, then watch as they eat the ripe fruit, the juice staining their hands, bonding us.I walk away in gratitude for this beautiful moment shared.