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My confidence plummeted when I entered the Moscow Art Theatre School. I had given my brightest smile to the security guard only to be met with a mild gruff and a head nod. I was anxious about starting classes in Moscow and having to comprehend the Russian language and English Translators simultaneously giving me whiplash from looking between the two. Used to general friendliness, as an American I was cautioned against Russian hospitality. “You know they don’t smile, right?” I was constantly warned and prayed for before my journey. But even though I prepared myself for staleness, I was not fully ready to be greeted with such a cold, short reply. Not even a reply! Not knowing how to respond to the lack of a response, I stood awkwardly for a beat before nodding my head with my lips pressed together and continuing forward. At the end of the day, there was a new security guard with the same response but I was armed with a new weapon; I had learned how to say Hello and Goodbye in Russian: Здравствуйте (Zdravstvuyte) and До свидания (Do svidaniya)! I didn't see my first security guard for a couple days. I had plenty of time to practice on the other doormen, but I was waiting for the one who shattered me. I walked in one brisk morning and made eye contact with him at the door. I smiled slyly and breezed on over to him. “Здравствуйте,” I said in the most Russian way I could muster. Not missing a beat I was met with, “Здравствуйте.” Without looking up, I was scanned through. Pouting I made my way to the elevator. That day in class I learned how to say Good morning: Доброе утро (Dobroye utro). I thought there's no way he could resist my charm. It became a game for me to try to win his attention. All I wanted was eye contact or a friendly smile. I don’t know why I wanted to engage with him so badly. I guess I didn't want him to be lonely on his shift. Being persistent paid off. Most of the people I passed on a daily basis became used to seeing my face around. They became more open knowing that I wasn't simply a tourist, I was embedding myself into their culture and appreciating everything Moscow had to offer me. One day I walked in the building and smiled right away at the guard. I approached him and said “Hello. Good morning. How are you?” in Russian. He actually smiled at me! Doing a victory dance in my head, my smile widened. During my last month in Russia, smiling became a regular thing between us. I would have to stay late for rehearsal and he would make sure I was alright going home late. He spoke often about The Americans when people came to visit. He was proud and it felt so amazing to be connected to him in such a simple way. I never knew his name. I couldn't remember how to ask for it in Russian. But on that last day of classes I couldn't deny we shared a small connection. As I tried to contain my tears on the elevator ride down to the first floor, where I would exit the door for the last time without returning, I shook my head and sighed. The doors opened on the first floor and I walked out, trying to swallow. I walked down the 5 steps to the front desk and right up to the security guard into his outstretched arms. He knew I was coming, and that made me want to cry even deeper. I said, “До свидания,” as he gave me a tiny squeeze. He replied, “Goodbye, Beautiful,” in my language. It is incredible how people so different can connect with a language barrier over something as simple as constant kindness. I’m humbled to be complimented by this man who genuinely smiled with me and not just at me. I walked out of the building into the rainy night that matched my tears. I hope to go back one day to smile with him again.