The Russian Lesson
A woman who comes to my film club decided that we should do a language exchange. She offered to teach me Russian and she’d use her English in the process, to teach me. I was anxious about this but wanted to at least give it a try.
On the day of the lesson, I left my apartment and saw that I was waiting for a marshtrutka with a gentleman who works at the computer shop downstairs that I frequent to make copies for my classes. When he noticed me he said “zdrastuvutye” in a surprised tone and then, as the marshtrutka was safely on its way, he (who was now sitting directly across from me) leaned in and asked me what I was doing in Ukraine. I told him where I worked but he did not recognize the name of the university. I told him it was by another university, the Harvard of N—, and it turns out that was where he went to school. I complimented him, as the students I’ve worked with from that university are quite enthusiastic and have an excellent grasp of English. Satisfied, he sat back, thought for a moment and leaned in again. “Do you like it here?” he asked. I told him that yes, I did. He looked out the window. He didn’t seem to like my answer. He thought for a moment and said, puzzled, “I can’t believe you like it here.” “Patcheemoo nyet?” I responded. “Why did you come here?,” he wanted to know. I explained I wanted to learn a foreign language, and I was actually on my way to tutoring. He then gave me some advice about learning Russian, “you must think in the language!”
He’s right. I tried in the past. It slowly dwindled down to counting in Russian, and then...nothing. “I dream in Russian,” I responded, which is true, be it a simplistic baby Russian. And I told him I thought of getting a cat and speaking to it in Russian. “No. You must get a bird and teach it phrases.” This was another excellent and original idea, but I declined. Who wants a bird, anyway?
He settled back again until our ride was almost over. Again, he looked at me and said, “but why do you come to our shop? There is a place to make copies across the street from the university.”
I suddenly felt extremely guilty and caught. I love the place that he is referring to. A family run business where the owner, wife, and two sons are extremely friendly, pleasant, and take excellent care of me. But there are students there all the time, and I always feel like a moron trying to explain things or being politely asked questions only to have no idea what is being asked. Plus, it’s just a lot easier to run downstairs and out of my apartment to the front of the building and get the copies made and come back to my apartment and sort everything out before my lessons start. My fellow passenger seems pleased with my answer, but informs me that they use their copy machines there too.
We get off at the same stop and I trot away quickly, as I am late to meet my tutor. She and I go into McDonalds for our lesson. We barely get started when we attract the attention of a young man sitting next to me. “Do you know English?” I asked in Russian. “Sure,” he responded in English and he asks me what I’m doing there. I explain in Russian (I mean it’s my tutoring session, afterall!) and then he asks me why I am learning Russian and not Ukrainian, which leads me to try to sidestep this potentially awkward situation (with political connotations), although to me it seems obvious. “Everyone in N—speaks Russian.” Duh, dude.
He doesn’t seem entirely happy with my answer, saying that people at home speak Ukrainian (uh, not really, I’ve done informal surveys with all my students, I only have two who speak it at home) and then that people in villages do (which is true, but I don’t live in a village). Eventually he lets up and I continue my lesson and he tries to help before he finishes his meal and goes.
I am not opposed to learning Russian. I just wish it were easier. And think about the situation from when I left my apartment (where I speak to no one) to the actual tutoring session itself—I accidentally met two people who speak English very well and one of whom seems upset that I’m learning Russian instead of Ukrainian. It almost makes me question the point of learning Russian at all…
On the day of the lesson, I left my apartment and saw that I was waiting for a marshtrutka with a gentleman who works at the computer shop downstairs that I frequent to make copies for my classes. When he noticed me he said “zdrastuvutye” in a surprised tone and then, as the marshtrutka was safely on its way, he (who was now sitting directly across from me) leaned in and asked me what I was doing in Ukraine. I told him where I worked but he did not recognize the name of the university. I told him it was by another university, the Harvard of N—, and it turns out that was where he went to school. I complimented him, as the students I’ve worked with from that university are quite enthusiastic and have an excellent grasp of English. Satisfied, he sat back, thought for a moment and leaned in again. “Do you like it here?” he asked. I told him that yes, I did. He looked out the window. He didn’t seem to like my answer. He thought for a moment and said, puzzled, “I can’t believe you like it here.” “Patcheemoo nyet?” I responded. “Why did you come here?,” he wanted to know. I explained I wanted to learn a foreign language, and I was actually on my way to tutoring. He then gave me some advice about learning Russian, “you must think in the language!”
He’s right. I tried in the past. It slowly dwindled down to counting in Russian, and then...nothing. “I dream in Russian,” I responded, which is true, be it a simplistic baby Russian. And I told him I thought of getting a cat and speaking to it in Russian. “No. You must get a bird and teach it phrases.” This was another excellent and original idea, but I declined. Who wants a bird, anyway?
He settled back again until our ride was almost over. Again, he looked at me and said, “but why do you come to our shop? There is a place to make copies across the street from the university.”
I suddenly felt extremely guilty and caught. I love the place that he is referring to. A family run business where the owner, wife, and two sons are extremely friendly, pleasant, and take excellent care of me. But there are students there all the time, and I always feel like a moron trying to explain things or being politely asked questions only to have no idea what is being asked. Plus, it’s just a lot easier to run downstairs and out of my apartment to the front of the building and get the copies made and come back to my apartment and sort everything out before my lessons start. My fellow passenger seems pleased with my answer, but informs me that they use their copy machines there too.
We get off at the same stop and I trot away quickly, as I am late to meet my tutor. She and I go into McDonalds for our lesson. We barely get started when we attract the attention of a young man sitting next to me. “Do you know English?” I asked in Russian. “Sure,” he responded in English and he asks me what I’m doing there. I explain in Russian (I mean it’s my tutoring session, afterall!) and then he asks me why I am learning Russian and not Ukrainian, which leads me to try to sidestep this potentially awkward situation (with political connotations), although to me it seems obvious. “Everyone in N—speaks Russian.” Duh, dude.
He doesn’t seem entirely happy with my answer, saying that people at home speak Ukrainian (uh, not really, I’ve done informal surveys with all my students, I only have two who speak it at home) and then that people in villages do (which is true, but I don’t live in a village). Eventually he lets up and I continue my lesson and he tries to help before he finishes his meal and goes.
I am not opposed to learning Russian. I just wish it were easier. And think about the situation from when I left my apartment (where I speak to no one) to the actual tutoring session itself—I accidentally met two people who speak English very well and one of whom seems upset that I’m learning Russian instead of Ukrainian. It almost makes me question the point of learning Russian at all…
posted by Molly | 12:33 AM
2 Comments:
Te loobish? Because you love it?
does this mean you'll be trilingual when you come home (or quatra-lingual, with french?)
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