Grits ain’t groceries, eggs ain’t poultry, and Mona Lisa was a man…

For an explanation of why the blog’s been weird lately, click here.

Vilnius, Lithania…

Wait, people here eat grits!? Amazing museums. Russian deportation photojournalism. Old lady with blonde hair and drawn-on black eyebrows. Young lady with black hair and drawn-on red eyebrows. I don’t get it. Gigantic hamhock(spelled “ham hog”) covered in spicy ketchup.

Cathedrals. Saints. Statues.

Terrified stone faces. Huge size disparities. Pile of sick outside the hostel(yuck). Loudest, longest street sweeper ever. Cutie from Argentina who sleeps like a rock. Wooden stairs. Church bells.

The Davis Cup, with Morroco leading. Searching for mysterious French speakers. Cili Pica. Dumplings with curd. Strawberry mash. Upusis? What does that mean? Strange neighborhood with lots of rules. 

River in the park, park on the river. Nigerians in the university. Night bus to Warsaw. Good night!

Didn’t hear much music that I remember in Vilnius, so today’s title comes from here…in homage to my shock at seeing grits in Lithuania…

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