The Accordion Man

Tonight I went to get wine at this little pub on the hostel grounds.  There I met an old Russian man and a young Italian man.  The Russian man loves English.  But he kept telling me I don't speak English, I speak American.  He also kept telling me I know nothing, which is probably true in the grand scheme of things.  But he told me so many times "you know nothing," that the Italian guy and I kept exchanging looks, and laughing to each other.  

The Russian man was a musician and he played me a song on the guitar, Seasons in the Sun.  Then he told about how he was a famous musician, an accordion player, but last year he had a surgery and now he can barely use his hand.  He got really upset about it a few times throughout the night.  It was sad.  But he took me somewhere and played piano for me.  

He was a funny old man.  He asked me why Americans don't travel to Russia.  I tried to give an honest answer about how we are kind of xenophobic, but he just stopped me halfway through and told me I know nothing.  He also told me I should go to America and tell all my friends that Russians are kind (they are) and they don't want war with us despite whatever the news says (me either).  I promised I'd do my best.  Russians are kind and they don't want war.  He also assured me that Russians had nothing to do with the interference of our political election.  I'm not so sure on that one.  Then again, I know nothing.