Where does the Motherland begin? Thirty years ago, I would have easily answered with the words from the song: "from the picture in the primer; songs that our mother sang to us; from good and faithful comrades, living in the next yard." But the country we were born in is gone. And we, digging in the fragments of the collapsed Empire, collect puzzles from different ideologies and from different historical eras. Trying to find a national idea, juggling mutually exclusive symbols.
