New Thing Number Thirty

I slaughtered Russian--intentionally--in front of Russians.

I may have marred my reputation forever.

So what happened, my little brother came home from Moscow. All while he's been out I have been so excited for him to come home, because we both know Russian really well and the rest of America pretty much doesn't. We'd have soooooo much fun speaking a "secret language" and making people think we were plotting their deaths when really we were talking about watching a movie later. The possibilities are endless. >:]

So my little brother came home from Moscow. And of course he needed a welcome poster at the airport. So of course I made him one. 

I wanted to be clever and to make him laugh after a long day of travel (seriously--you leave at the crack of dawn, essentially stop time for 24 hours, and arrive home later that same night). So, with all my clever genius, I made him a poster that would be understandable only to someone who speaks both English and Russian (or at least is familiar with the Russian alphabet). 

I wrote уйeлком хоум which literally spells out welcome home, but with Russian letters. Then I excitedly stood at the airport with my gobbledegook poster and waited for my little brother to come down the escalator. 

What I wasn't anticipating was that there was a score of Russian babushki and dedushki also waiting at the airport, also expecting friends to arrive from Russia. 

They saw my sign.

At that point I didn't even bother trying to tell them that I speak Russian, very well, in fact. I just watched them as they frowned at my sign. And cocked their heads. And frowned at my sign. And frowned some more.

Well, so much for helping to promote international benevolence.