Misunderstandings all over the place

We have been touched by the kindness of so many good people here, from the concierge of our apartment building  who daily blesses us with her shy smile, clean hallway floors and a beautiful  garden, to the sweet woman who sits in her glass cube at the bottom of our metro escalator and never fails to wave and smile at us.  With our very limited Russian, we can't tell them how much we appreciate their goodness so we went to google translate to write out several notes in what we assumed was proper Russian.  We took our stack to Anya, our native born secretary to see what she thought of what we had written.  After she stopped laughing hysterically, she re-wrote every one. 

Most of our notes were only mildly wierd but harmless but the one we painstakenly wrote to Claudia and Victor, our landlords, had her doubled over cackling.  We tried to tell them how much we love our apartment and the goodies they bring to us from their garden and how we love having them as our landlords, etc. However,  Google used some 19th century phrase that evokes the era of slavery and serfdom and how we love being in their benevolent power.  Anya said, "Never use Google Translate again.  Only use me!" 
She is super smart.  She speaks English, Ukrainian, Spanish, Japanese (served her mission there and teaches it at a university here).  She keeps everything moving around the office but we will still need our google translate in the grocery store.  This is Anya with our mission president and wife at our home for dinner.

My worst misunderstanding was last Friday evening around 10:00 as we boarded the metro, returning home after dinner at another senior couple's home in central Moscow.  The train was pretty empty, especially the car we entered.  Just us and a disheveled looking man who had been drinking a bit too much.  As Dick and I settled into our seats on one end of the car, the man was at the other end, facing us.  What he couldn't see but I could was a darling little boy with his parents in the next car, behind the man.  The little boy and I started waving at each other.  Our waves and smiles got bigger and then we were throwing big kisses at each other.
 After several minutes, the previously ignored man staggered determinedly to us, plopped down next to me and started trying to grab my hands, then Dick's hands.  We were shocked and instinctively pulled away.  He then wrapped his arms around himself and pointed to me, then continued to try to touch me.  He wanted a hug.
Apparently, he thought all of that affection was directed toward him.  In his inebriated state and with my eager waves and kisses, he thought he had found Mom.  As we totally rejected him he wove his way to the doors and got off at the next stop.  I felt terrible that I had broken his heart but the little boy and I continued to have fun.

I hope our drunken friend remembered nothing about his unhappy experience with his "mother".  I do need to be more careful where my waves are headed. 

Metros are a blast.  This way of getting around is so much fun.  People are endlesssly fascinating and I can always read.  I absolutely do not miss driving.  I miss family and friends but not my car.

I'm including  pictures of our fabulous metro.  My favorite is the Watercolor Train.  Each year the Moscow Museum of Art outfits this train with beautiful works

from their collection.  I get so excited when I see it coming.  The outside is beautifully colored with various landscapes, not the utilitarian blue/gray. 

Life is wonderful, the Gospel is true and we are forever blessed to be part of this vast army helping to build His kingdom.