I met Vladimir Putin. This is what I learned.

“So, leaving your motherland, then? So young, so soon! And for what? America, the country that’s bound to collapse?!”

The smirk on his face was as I had always seen it on TV. It emanated a mix of confidence and arrogance. I had never liked it. Sitting in front of him though, I found his style and body language made me more relaxed. I felt I could continue the conversation in a more casual manner than I expected. Putin certainly appeared casual both in his body language and appearance. He wore a turquoise Puma tracksuit. I had recalled images of him in a white judo robe — he’s famous for his love of the sport — but this was just a tracksuit. What surprised me is that he was barefoot. I looked at his toes. I’m a runner and my toenails are ugly as hell. I’d developed an instinct of examining people’s athletic shoes and feet. Putin’s toenails were perfect, in their shape and shininess. It was clear he had taken good care of them. Probably he had a pedicure specialist in his team.

“Yes. That’s how things are turning out in life, Vladimir Vladimirovich”, I replied timidly, hinting at some external circumstances, not wanting him to think that I was abandoning “the motherland”.

What occupied my mind though was not how he was judging my looming departure to the US, but how he’d found out. I had received my H1B visa just weeks ago and only my close relatives knew about the radical change that was about to happen in the life of my family. Well, I guess that’s what secret services and spies do…