I began my studies in the 1990s. It was a strange time. On the one hand, we felt pressure from the lingering effects of the recession and the uncertainty of employment. It seemed that no one could count on a pension anymore.

The world felt wide open, even if at that stage this only meant Europe and the Erasmus exchange programme. So I studied in Spain and St. Petersburg. St. Petersburg was in a stage of development. There was Baskin-Robbins being served on the Nevsky Prospect and a Pizza Hut on the banks of the Moika. But in the dormitories on Vasilyevsky Island there were broken windows, showers which only sprayed cold water and stray dogs howling through the night. It felt like a long way from home.

Still, it was a hopeful time. Alternative culture flourished and at Pushkinskaya 10 we celebrated the age with the Russians and believed in the spread of human rights and transparency, as well as the breakdown of the old hostilities between the East and the West. How naive and innocent we were – even if we would not have used those words to describe ourselves back then.