Gogol Bordello: the Night that Changed My Life.

so somehow i still haven't blogged this experience, despite it having happened a couple days ago. shame on me.
I must give an edited version of my experience- my spiritual journey, if you will- for various reasons, those being to protect some privileged information and to *try* and keep me from rambling about it, literally forever.
On April 23rd, around 7am, I wake with a start as i hear the faint buzzing of my cell phone on the desk. "SHIT. TRAIN!" i think to myself as i get up; dressing within what feels like seconds, i run out of my room, out of my building, heading for amtrak with a prayer to the concert gods in my speedily beating heart.
fast forward to six hours later: i made my train, but i couldn't sleep on the way there, so i get off groggily at union station in chicago, and await my ride, shamrock shake in hand, in the seat i claim as my very own at the mcdonald's there. by this point i am excited and maintaining a general sense of well being, thanks to simply being in chicago, and being on my way to a concert; yet i have no idea what is in store. ride arrives. we drive around. we eat at Let's Go Diner Restaurant in *the* hippest part of town (go there if you can- the grub is worth the feelings of displacement upon realising you're the only one in the place without a v-neck on.) i need a skirt for the show, as am i told i will regret wearing jeans (this turns out to be true, true, true.) we shop, we drive, we park, and then we are at Congress.
**this is where the magic starts, so if you were skimming(and i promise i wouldn't blame you), you should start paying attention.**
standing in line (3rd rather than first to our dismay) we (me, and my companions, roommate and a friend) we meet some cool people, we encounter some annoying people, it rains a little and we are cold,but all in all the vibe is good. for the others, it's no big deal, but my first big shock comes when i look to my left and just around the corner at which we are standing, some people are exiting a tour bus. it doesn't occur to me that gogol bordello will have parked right next to the stage doors, so you can imagine my surprise when Eugene and Pedro(aka the love of my life in my starstruckier, lamer moments) waltz past.swiftly denying an encounter with a way too excited fangirl, i am able to gauge the level of coolness i will need to maintain with surprising ease. this becomes a little more difficult when, a while later, Yuri and Sergei stop to talk to us- actually one of my companions, but i think all in all i maintained an acceptable level of calm. we hang out a while later, then friendly Security Guard Mike tells us it's time, we can go in now.
Rushing to the doors of congress, i raise my hands to be patted down, and then i run on my numb little feet to the very front of the stage. we score spots front and center, and hold them as the place fills.i wait somewhat impatiently, and finally there are soundchecks and tech people leave the crowded stage and lights come down and everyone is making way for some relaxed- looking guys on stage left. They're the openers, and frankly they aren't that good, but being in the front row they successfully do their job of getting the crowd- or at least me- warmed up.then the fun starts. i wait even more impatiently, because i know what's next. the stage is cleared once again, and then a very different crowd overtakes it. Devotchka arrives and immediately begin filling my soul with wonder. their set, while not the main event i am so stoked for this entire time, is like some fascinating break from reality. am i really this close? i listen to these guys all the time, and now i'm seeing them, they're real people. it's not like i've never been to a concert before; i have, and i've seen some acts that are equally, if not more, important to my musical preferences. but this felt like magic. i looked at their eyes, i heard the fervor for what was going on and i felt it. by the end of the set, i had been hypnotized by sound, mesmerized by the stylings of a rope dancer in yet another moment of complete perfection, and completely ready for the culmination of the night. devotchka's set ends, they leave the stage, i am crushed against the gate and the crowd behind me is pulsing with excitement.
stage setup, lights, and then out they come. they come one by one, they begin to play their respective instruments, the crowd goes crazy for each and every one. last is eugene, and as he begins to sing, the glue that holds the chaos together cures and some perfect masterpeice is being created in front of my eyes. the show goes on, song after song i revel and scream and jump and throw my arms into the air and am crushed and pushed and don't care. every movement they make is theatrical, every new moment feels like hearing some beautiful new language for the first time. even the parts i don't understand, i feel an urgency to experience fully and completely and to never ever forget it. the music is gypsy punk, and the spirit of that is present in a tangible way. it feels foreign and new, yet so present, like it reacts with something inside a person. it feels personal but immeasurable, and it feels like the greatest connection i ever had to something that isn't even tangible; some sounds, a feeling, the emotion of experiencing something so new and exciting. the moments they create and the combination of feelings they stir with every leap across the stage and every strum of a guitar or a bass or note on an accordion or a violin or beat on a drum or a block of wood, feels like magic at work on my soul.
after the show ends- and then ends again, following a fantastic encore- we head outside. it's raining, it's even colder, but we're riding a euphoric high and we barely notice. arriving at the car, my roomate's friend gets a text. it's a member of the band, he wants to know what we're doing. excited all over again, we run to find him, and he ends up hanging out in the car with us. we talk about canada, he tells us about their busy schedule for the last few days. it's surreal that i am experiencing on a personal, person- to- real live person basis, the very thing i have just finished falling in love with. after a while we head out, it's still raining. "we go to the bus," his russian accent tells us. a new wave of thrill. we enter the bus. there's sergei, two girls and a guy. they're talking, so we sit and we say hello and we listen. yuri tells a story sergie warns us is "terrible" (it is) but we listen nonetheless. we get into a conversation with the girls on the bus. they're from venezuela and italy, they're sisters. the older one tells us we should travel, that it makes you smarter, that you have to see the world, and i promise her i will. the younger one is drunk, vaguely obnoxious and superior and keeps complaning about americans, but i can't hold anything against her because the moment i'm in is not something to complain about. eventually they leave, more people come, and as it gets closer to curfew, the band begins to file in- the bus has to leave at 1:30. so we sit, and we talk. a roadie talks to us for a while, then tommy through a mouthful of mexican food of which he does not know the origin. pedro comes in, and i ask how he likes chicago, he says it's a cool city. i fight with surprising strength the urge to touch his solitary dread, knotted into a bun on the back of his head- it is the most lovely and enticing thing i've ever seen; i immediately want to hug him. people get on the bus, some sit in the front, but other sneak past and head to the back, tired or just not in the mood to hang in a crowded room with fans, either of which works for me because just seeing them is enough. eugene comes in, and in the one moment i promised myself i wouldn't make a fool of myself, i awkwardly giggle and shake his hand as i answer his question by telling him that yes, the show was amazing, and then he is gone. more time passes, i continue questioning whether what is happening is even real, and then it is 1:30 and we have to leave. outside the bus we say our goodbyes to yuri, who has been our ambassador into this guided tour of joy incarnate. we go to the car. "that does not happen to ANYBODY," says Hannah, and i realize how bizzare it is that meeting some people on a bus is a highlight in my life, but only long enough to notice and not care at all because i am so damn happy.
after that, we go find food, we sleep a couple of hours in the car because we have trains and buses and drives to make. i sit in union station at the amtrak terminal, and half- sleep but feeling half- dead, i feel like i am in purgatory. i awake to one of the 4 alarms i set (not wanting a more disastrous repeat of the beginning of this story) and look around, thinking, it was too good, and now my life is over. where am i? what do i do now? these thoughts carry through, as i board my train, as i jerkily wake time and time again from the train jostling my tired and achy body, as i get off the train into a thunderstorm and i walk into my dorm room, removing my sodden clothes and going straight to the shower. i go about my day tiredly, waiting for the time when i can regulate sleep and begin to feel normal again. but i woke up this morning, and tess is still gone, having adventures with the band which, for me, were cut short by responsibilities i didn't know i would be so ready to abandon, had i still been able, by the end of my experience. and i'm sitting in my room all day, nursing various bruises from my night, stinging little souvenirs that yesterday were swollen and already are beginning to fade. i feel in a spiritual limbo, because even though maybe it was just a concert and maybe just a cool band i got to hang out with for a while, the feelings i felt during that time changed something in me, and i feel different, and i have a band called gogol bordello to thank for it, and i won't forget.