a big happy euro-vision

Last summer I had the privilege of being introduced to one of Europe’s most spectacular on-going traditions, Eurovision. In the middle of an otherwise uneventful night, Jeff and I were pulled out of our cozy (yes, cozy despite what Jeff might say…and despite the cockroaches…and despite the gypsies living on our balcony) room at the Buddhist Meditation Center and onto the streets of Chisinau to watch the popular competition broadcast to a giant screen on the city’s central square.

The masses turned out, completely enchanted by the flashing lights, sequins, spandex, and techno beats of their favorite pop artists. Every country sent the best of the best, but only one would emerge victorious: Dima Bilan, who, since his debut on the European pop scene, has inspired a hair style that, although strictly associated with trailer trash and NASCAR in the US, has taken all of Eastern Europe by storm. Yes, if your 3-yr old son does not yet have a mullet, you will soon be kindly referred to a proper hairdresser. If your 8-yr old doesn’t have a mullet, you can bet he’s a hopeless outcast on the playground. And as for you, 26-yr old single dude, no mullet definitely equals no ladies for you. The point is Diman Bilan. In the eyes of Eastern Europeans the world over, he is the male equivalent of Mariah Carey: man-diva to the max.

And what’s more, Jeff and I got to see him live in concert at Sheriff’s (Transnistria’s monopolistic super-company) birthday bash in Tiraspol. Until that moment, never had I wanted anything so badly without knowing it (roll that around in your head for a minute).

And now…the follow-up. The Dima Bilan team conquered Eurovision in Serbia last summer and in jubilation Russia bombed Belgrade (and, as Jeff wisely noted, pawned it off as a fireworks celebration). As a result, Moscow was granted Eurovision hosting privileges for 2009. I know you all thought I was coming to Moscow to do research with the ORCA grant. Actually, I came for the party of the century.

BUT, if not for a few average-sized billboards and a few chance sightings of Eurovision buses parked outside the Red Square Ritz-Carlton, I would never have known that Moldova’s favorite international television event was taking place in the recently resurgent powerhouse capital of the CIS. I had to beg my host family to turn it on and endure the idiotic melodies and loud, unvarying rhythms. I had to ask passersby on the street the following day which of the talented lip-synchers won. I had to write a Eurovision blog post in desperate attempt to fill the void of nonparticipation in this year’s Eurovision festivities…. The end.

Ps. Norway won. Dude looks like DB. Slightly different hairstyle. More updates soon on the effect that may have on the surrounding population.