It was my last night in Minsk. Because of how safe the city felt during my time there, I allowed myself to be out past dark. I was enjoying my time in a little wine bar about three blocks from my hotel, and I reasoned that I could walk that far along a busy street without issue.
Just before 10:30, I left the wine bar. There were a few people out and all of the lights on the buildings were beautiful. All of a sudden, as I was walking along, every street light and every light on the buildings went out. I looked around in surprise, and realized the street had gone from reasonably busy, to almost completely deserted. It was nearly silent.
All of a sudden, I hear sirens and from out of nowhere, a few police begin walking down the street. I hear someone talking loudly into a loudspeaker, of course in Russian, and of course, I didn’t understand.
My first instinct was to make a mad dash across the street and duck into my hotel. I could see it! I was so close! I considered running, I considered heading back to the now closed wine bar, I considered approaching the police with an innocent look and my halting Russian. But in that situation, nothing looked overly friendly. And even though I was pretty sure I was innocent (? Was there a curfew I didn’t know about? Was I not supposed to drink wine past 10pm?), I didn’t want to end up in a Belarusian Prison.
The loudspeaker continued to get louder and I walked casually faster, pretty sure any minuted I’d start being pursued in a short but dramatic chase.
I stopped and waited for the walk light to turn at my hotel (which is better, to break what was looking like a curfew, or to cross the street without knowing if jay-walking was illegal?) The loudspeaker police got closer and finally went past me without so much as a second glance.
The light turned and without hesitation, I ran to the relative cover of my hotel, beautifully well lit, police-free, and delightfully normal.
And that was the inconclusive end to my late night adventure in Minsk.
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