Sleep Dream.  I’m in Jugendstil Riga. With a handsome fellow in his 40’s, finely featured, slender, with brown hair and a beard. Aspects of cousin Igors, aspects of Rainis. Intelligent eyes. Dressed in a dark suit. We enter the first floor. It is somewhat shabby, as is often the case with Riga apartment buildings. However, this space is not typical of Riga, I now realize. It is light, with white tiles and walls, blue trim. As I write, it seems like it could be a space out of Spain, or NY. The bearded gent lives on a higher floor, but goes to an apartment door on the first floor. He is determined and serious, in a typical Igors way. He explains to me that he is going to complain to the inhabitants of this first floor unit. „My apartment is right above theirs. There is a stench of vodka that floats up from their place into mine. I want it to stop!“ He is absolutely clear about his being in the right, that he has the right to demand being heard by the neighbor and have his demand for changes in behavior be followed. So much like Igors.