Am I... becoming happier? Oh my god. (c)

A tweet after America.

I always knew I was destined for something, and, drifting aimlessly with the current, I believed: I am on my path. But the moment came when I grew tired of waiting for the continuation of my story – it was so boring that I successfully forgot some of the events and characters.

Getting ready for America, I thought: this will be a great test of stability, maybe overseas civilization will turn me into a brave adventurer, expand my narrow conceptual boundaries. I want to tell you my stories and submit the level of my madness to your judgment.

Story one (How to meet people? Answer: you don't, people will meet you themselves)

I flew without friends or companions, so during the layover in Frankfurt, which lasted – stay calm, I survived it easier than I planned! – eighteen hours, I was left alone. I drank hot tea, which seemed much more soulless than the one my Belarusian roommate makes, while simultaneously browning white bread in a hot skillet.

Feeling lonely at the airport is normal. Missing home is normal. By the way, it might sound rude, but that was the last time I missed home on such a scale.

I tried to settle into an airport chair to fall asleep, but it didn't go very well – I lay with my eyes closed, aimlessly drifting in my thoughts, until I felt someone cover me with a blanket. I shake off the drowsiness and open my eyes. In front of me is an African American man, glowing with joy and apologies, not at all embarrassed, muttering that, miss, your feet must be cold, how can one not help a girl whose feet are cold, I would give you warm socks, but I don't have any, take the blanket for now, since your feet are cold.

Now I know that this was Hector. He is from New Orleans, Louisiana, he loves his elderly parents (later I will see these people with kind faces, marred by dozens of curved lines radiating from their eyes), he idolizes honey and would like to become a lawyer. That is how I met my first American friend in Frankfurt.

From here, my tips flow smoothly:

1. Buddy, don't be afraid to accept help, even if it seems unnatural to do so. Just admit that you need help. I understand: I used to be shy even to ask where the post office was.

2. Feeling lonely at the airport is normal.

3. Try not to lose touch with everyone you meet on your way. Upon returning home, messages like “what’s up” or “i miss you” will seem like a lifeline to you.

By the way, there was another Hector in my American life. He walked up to me on a busy Chicago street and said: “Hey, amazing boots!” Half an hour later, Hector was showing me Chicago skyscrapers and treating me to a sweet apple, while I learned that he loves dusty bars, hates his profession as a lawyer (oh!), and believes there are people who undeservedly take everything.

These memories are so warm that the love for them sometimes makes it hard for me to breathe.