Manic Bookstore Cafe

When I was preparing for a month-long study abroad trip to Hungary and Poland, taking first and second year college students to places they might not visit on their own, I decided to frame the course in terms of empire. For U.S. students even Austro-Hungary may be unknown, but in Budapest there are still physical and architectural traces of that empire, the Ottoman Empire and even the Roman empire. Heading to Warsaw gives me a chance to talk with them about partitioned Poland (1772 through 1918) and to discuss three empires: Russian, Prussian, and Austro-Hungarian. Plenty of fodder for conversation, especially in the context of today's European Union. What did it feel like to be a Polish subject in the Russian empire? A Jew in Austro-Hungary? A Ukrainian living in Warsaw or Budapest today? Aquincum, an ancient Roman city now  on the outskirts of Budapest, photo 2019 The framing is related to my university's general education program, where students are required to take courses

On Thursday I fled Denver in the face of what was promising to be an epic snowstorm. (My AirBnB host, who grew up in Michigan, advised that Denver is quick to hit the panic button, but I didn't dare stick around to find out. I needed to be home before Monday!) In the plane, waiting for de-icing, I checked my e-mail and learned that I had been added to a so-called "stop-list" of U.S. citizens who are being personally sanctioned for our attitudes toward the Russian government and its internal and foreign affairs. It's not often that you end up on a list with the head of Lockheed Martin--certainly nothing I ever expected. But then, I also had never thought of myself as a Russophobe, and now that's the label that has been affixed to me by the Russian Federation. I had just been upgraded to first class--apparently not a lot of people were fleeing Denver that morning!--so I did what any Russophobe would do: I ordered a vodka from the flight attendant. An American vodka,