That's how we ended up settling in Little Havana, a Cuban neighborhood in Miami... a tiny, tiny apartment... there's a 3cm hole under the door, and through it, 'guests' come to visit us—Florida cockroaches... or lizards... and once, there was even a mouse. But on the bright side, we only paid $500 a month for two, which is very cheap by Miami standards. We're surrounded by a Spanish-speaking community; the Cubans are a bit intense, crazy even—when you walk down the street in the morning, you hear characteristic whistling, greetings, obscenities, and loud kisses behind you... 'Hola, chikas bonitas! Hi, mami! Hola, muchachas...' At first, it was fun—we aren't used to that back home, and suddenly you're getting so much attention! But after a couple of days, it started to get genuinely annoying: you're standing at a bus stop waiting for the bus, and passing cars honk at you, nasty Cuban faces lean out of the windows blowing kisses and compliments or offering rides... one guy even pulled up to us twice while we were waiting—we barely managed to explain we didn't need his help, since he didn't understand English... eventually, we just started telling them all off—some in Russian, some in English... or answering their Spanish in Russian.)) At night, or even in the evening, it's better not to go out at all—it's dangerous. Also, one thing surprised us: you walk to work in the morning and see someone's sneakers hanging high up on the power lines... that's how the progressive Cuban youth entertain themselves—stealing shoes and throwing them up there.

Our commute to work became shorter, but there was no entertainment provided—this isn't Miami Beach, where you can take a peaceful evening stroll through the city at night... everything is different here... so we had to come up with our own entertainment and tried to spend our shared days off wisely.