4 a.m. in Madrid, pretty quiet. My jet lag has been much worse this time around. Perhaps falling asleep intermittently throughout the day on every horizontal surface in Manuel's apartment hasn't been the best strategy. Think I'm gonna ride this night out and crash early tomorrow. Anyway, it's cool only speaking Spanish this week, you guys should try it. My Spanish is okay, it's like I have all the tools but I struggle using them fast enough. Nevertheless, it's satisfying eating dinner with Manuel's family and realizing that not an English word has been muttered and that I've only missed seven beats or so. But seriously, it's a great feeling when you think, "Oh my god, all that work paid off and I understand them and they understand me." Don't get me started on the importance of learning a foreign language. Speaking of which, I still don't know much more Russian than I did the week before and it still hasn't started to worry me. It'll hit me in Moscow.
I have however, learned a little more about Russian history. Allow me to share: turns out Ivan the Terrible is not his real name. Our mistranslation of "Terrible" comes from the Russian word Grozny which back in the day meant "awe-inspiring" "great" or "dreadful" in a reverential sense. It seems however, that the word грозный has now taken on the meaning of "terrible, fearsome, menacing." The words transformation well suits Ivan IV's systematic murder of the Boyar class via drunken decapitation parties. Anyway, he was a godsend in unifying strategics parts of a fragmented Russia.
Something to try! Try anchovies. Seriously. I had never tried anchovies before I met Manuel's parents a year ago but I now have a great deal of respect for the tiny, canned fish. They're super salty and the texture is soft but put them on top of sliced french bread with cut up tomato on top and you're mouth will thank you. It's delicious. The Spanish really don't get enough rep for their food. That's it for now.
Hasta luego / Пока / Keep it real
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