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My blog has been abandoned for almost three months now, and in the meantime I seem to have found a job and paid off my parent's time debt with interest after five years in Russia. I've devoted hours to equipping my house briefly so that I can move in and be independent again. Along the way I've got calluses on my hands from screwing furniture, I've discovered that' canapé' is not just those deceitful weddings and' confortable' is not an adjective synonymous with tasteless. In the hardware store in Hernani I'm already greeted by my name and I've even started to follow in Instagram interior design beads, which are now mixed in my feed with horny Russians and NBA blacks.
progress-loading-bar-ui-indicator-text-animation-web-design-template-interface-white-screen-69650880The bar of my repatriation process is being completed. I no longer live in the village under the roof of my parents, surrounded by relatives, but in the city, with my brother a stone's throw away but surrounded by strangers, as in Moscow. And what I'm trying to do in the neighborhood, I give shelter to the porter, the cheese-shop and my neighbor, the "Miss" Conchi, that woman in her fifties who knows the life of the whole community, who loves to tell it and in general is part of the scenery of any staircase of neighbors in the capital of the kingdom.
I lost some friends of Madrid during my Russian voyage, I was counting on it, I keep the best ones and I have made a few new ones on my arrival, but I see them all less than I would like. It's what has to get old, you assemble furniture and time becomes more expensive. And after all this circumlocution came what I wanted to tell you, the need to meet people, after all I had never lived in Madrid city. Abroad you make pineapple with immigrants like you, you are all new and you are all alone, outside their habitat people open for pure survival, but back home the social circles are already formed and it is not so easy to access.
You need a can opener and the most obvious seems to be' pointing at something'. We are the first generation to spend the afternoons of childhood and youth in' extracurricular activities', in judo, English or swimming, that invention made by the parents of the nineties to entertain children' when they leave school'. And the invention became a heritage and those children, today adults, have taken it as their own. All gods are pointed to something, those who don't do pilates do yoga, those who don't go to the gym are runners or paddle tennis, and if they're not vegan cooking classes, they are Latin dances. Urban tribes are created that speak a language almost in code and advertise it on social networks. "Think, Victor, of something you like, that you always wanted to do and couldn't do." And here's the problem, after years of living a day and far from home, without too much time for me, I must have been stunted because I just don't know.