Language Barrier

Last night I took the bus home from Lindsay's apartment after getting back from the banya. A little ways before my stop I stood up and walked towards the door and adjusted my bag and backpack.  I happen to make a quick glance around (while doing the 'Russian Face' where you don't smile, because that's just what people do here) and notice this older gentleman seated close to the door. I turn back and look straight ahead and listen to the Russian pop song that is playing over the speakers on the bus. I can't help but look back at this man again. His face is wrinkled and his hair is gray. He wears a straight typical bus-riding Russian face. But I notice that he is tapping his foot along to the song. Then I notice that he starts moving his hand; drumming against the bag in his lap. I can't help but smile. It's almost contagious, and before long I notice my foot is slightly tapping along also. I know that he's been watching me a little, and he knows I've been watching him. As the bus stops, I look over and give him a small smile. Just before stepping out of the bus, he returns the smile, and with a slight happy laugh says something to me in Russian.

Walking home from the bus stop, I wished I knew Russian. I wished I knew what that kind old man, who made my night said, to me. The language barrier is a real thing, and what I hate about it is that it limits how we connect with other people. Now, I'm a lover of words just as much as the next guy, but good communication can be had without understanding words. And happiness can be passed along just a well through smiles. That's what I love; we can connect with other people even with the language barrier, and that just makes me happy.

People are pretty stinking great!