Vallaura's Blog

"Writing is a way of talking without being interrupted."

москва, 2015

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When you travel to a place, you have a lot of destination in mind. You jotted list of places-to-visit, food-to-try and things-to-buy. Normally, I do that as well. But this time, this particular trip, I have only one destination in mind.

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He was surprisingly different from what I used to know. He said, this is me working, and you had only saw me having holiday in Copenhagen and he said that I have not yet seen him as family in his hometown. valid point. So, I was really enjoying getting to know him more through this trip. I wrote this to remind myself, maybe hundred years from now, when I am gray and old(er), and starting forgetting everything. I wrote this as remembrance of God’s words that answer prayers even to those prayers that you have never spoken of.

1518070_10153268649272398_4462402641133767976_o-2This post was originally drafted in March. But I am posting it in October. I could not remember most of the details that I had when I was in Moscow. Whoa. Time had corrupted even the best memories I would ever have. But, I do remember that he took me to one of the best sushi places in Moscow. It was a fancy place with cozy ambiance, delicious sushi, warm earl grey and amazing companion. We then went for a walk to the White Church and tried to take picture with Moscow Kremlin at the back. It did not work out well. My phone was dead, low battery. And then his phone did not have a good lighting. Hahaha… But we had fun trying. Good memories.

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I remember the first night in Moscow, we spent walking around Moscow in the middle of the night, missing the last metro. We had a non-stop drinking and eating and sharing stories in that 24h cafe. Then we had an early breakfast in my shady hostel pantry. hahahaa… that’s so much fun, remembering I had to attend a seminar an hour after that.

11357322_10153314001507398_5521844775178070878_oI could not remember much after that night, except this place. Oh. Your home. Your home in Moscow. Not in the metro station of course, but this was the metro station I should alight, as you told me. You introduced me to your Russian mom and brother. And this woman was amazing. She just opened herself as if I was not a stranger for her. I would have ask her to have a picture with me if she did not have something on her face which I suspected to be just a pimple like the one I was having at that time. And we prayed. We kneeled down on your bedsides and we prayed together, Russian mom, you, me and later on russian brother. It was one of the best moments in my life. No exaggeration. Because since that night, I kneeled down on my knees in every bedside I had. I am not the same person when I left that home of yours. Good memories.

Indeed, I am not the same person after I met you. Sometime I question whether or not I should be grateful meeting you in the first place. Because I dont know how to be me again.

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And oh! You showed me to this dog statue where I can rub his nose to get a “oodachi” or Good luck. 🙂 Good memories. What good memories we had.

 

 

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