My observant and friendly landlady, directly upon my return from a first summer month in Russia (probably 1987), immediately commented on how my face had changed. Surely it had, as little as I would’ve noticed. For the inner life snd social experiences I had there were quite more suitable to me than anything I had experienced in the West, from the Berlin Wall to San Francisco’s Golden Gate. 
Robert Darwin, upon seeing his son Charles once again after more than five years, noted how the shape of his head had quite altered. Certainly. 
Stephen Lapeyrouse . . . Notes Dropped Along the Way 