Thursday, February 20, 2014

Last January

Last January: struggling with the Cyrillic alphabet. I mean, alfaveet.

This February: reciting excerpts of Pushkin.

I am immensely grateful for having been able to study Russian this past year. It's the type of gratitude that is so large I could almost fit Russia inside, maybe with the Urals and a few peninsulas sticking out. It's hard for me to explain what Pushkin means, not just to me, but to Russia. Think Shakespeare,  but even more important. And even more lyrical.