Foreign Language

This blog post is brought to you by the phrase, Я не понимаю, meaning “I don’t understand.”

I’ve officially been in Russia for ten days, and the culture shock is definitely wearing off. It’s very much a different world, and in many ways a very backwards one, but if you accept that fact (or embrace it) life in St. Petersburg becomes much less frustrating.

First of all, as I mentioned before, I do not have internet access in my homestay. So far, I haven’t found a convenient location with free wi-fi, which is why it has taken me so long to update my blog. Most Russians do not have wireless internet in their homes, and I was not fortunate enough to be placed in a house that could connect to the internet. As a caveat, I should mention that there are plenty of wireless signals in my vicinity, but all of them are security-enabled. Since hacking is not one of my technological talents, I’ve been rather removed from email, skype and blogging. I have found this very interesting, though, since Russians are known for their collective mentality. I suppose that mentality does not stretch to the realm of internet access, however. That is the one area of Russian life where sharing is not the norm.

It’s said that language shapes culture, and here, that seems to be perfectly accurate. For example, several words in English do not translate into Russian – neither the words, nor the concepts. Here is a short list: efficiency, personal space, privacy, challenge (as in mentally challenged or vertically challenged, in my case), fun, excitement, and tolerance. Some of these words don’t surprise me as being untranslatable, and some are just funny. I’ll break it down for you:

Efficiency – the goal of American life, it would seem. So many products and services are popularized and advertized for increasing efficiency and supposedly making your life easier to manage. In fact, this is one of the biggest factors of successful American businesses outlined in the socio-anthropological work, The McDonaldization of Society. (It’s a good, quick and pleasurable read, if you have the time.) This is a totally unknown and rather laughable concept in Russia, however. The sheer number of lines one stands in every day is a testament to that. Lines in the metro station, lines for the cashier, lines for restrooms, lines for the elevator, the escalator…it never ends. “Hurry up and wait” is the slogan of this city. My favorite example of lack of efficiency is what happened to me a few days ago. I take the metro to and from school, and I usually avoid rush hour by going home early. This past week, though, some friends and I decided to visit a cathedral in the area and go home at 5. Big mistake. We found a gargantuan horde of people outside the metro station (probably close to 200 people) trying to fit through one open door to get inside. There were six doors to the metro station, but five were closed. After that experience, I know precisely what it feels like to be a camel shoved through the eye of a needle.

Personal space/privacy – St. Petersburg is a pretty big city of approximately 5 million. It’s not like New York in that high-rises aren’t everywhere, but it’s still a lot of people for a relatively small space. People are accustomed to pressing into each other to fit into the tight apartments, metro cars and alleyways. Thus, when they speak to you, they get much closer to you than Americans would. Also, they don’t much care if they invade your bubble, because they themselves don’t have bubbles. As an illustration, by host mother has a 4.5 year-old grandson named Alyosha. He and I often eat at the same time, or watch television together. However, I’ve noticed that Alyosha has no problem stretching his legs over me or pushing his toys into where I’m sitting. It’s not that he’s being rude, it’s just that plopping on top of me or accidentally touching my leg is not a problem to him. In America, people apologize to each other for accidentally brushing into them or their belongings, as if any uninvited physical contact is a cardinal sin. Americans feel the need to ask forgiveness for intruding on another’s sacred personal space, while Russians do not think people have a two-foot radius of no-man’s-land surrounding them.

Challenge – This one surprised me, though as I think about it, it makes sense. Russians are very direct and straightforward, and I don’t think they use euphemisms in their daily speech. Thus, calling someone “challenged” wouldn’t really happen. The concept doesn’t make sense to them. (A funny story about this: my friend made a joke about the Leaning Tower of Pisa being “gravitationally-challenged” and his host dad, who speaks impeccable English, could not understand what the phrase meant. My friend tried to explain the concept of challenge to him, and he simply did not get it.)

Fun and excitement – These two words have been a serious struggle for me ever since I began taking Russian. I once asked my professor how to say I was excited about going on a trip, and he said, “Russians don’t get excited.” After living here for 10 days, I’ve found this to be mostly true. It takes a LOT to get Russians to smile when they aren’t around family and friends. Yesterday, my fellow students and I went on an excursion to Pavlosk Palace and rode the train to get there. On the way back, a man walked into our car and played the accordion and sang for us. He was funny and good, and he actually made a few Russians in the car with us SMILE! After his song, he held out his hat for tips and made about 30 rubles from my friend and I alone – we figured that any man who can make Russians smile at a stranger deserves to be rewarded.

One note on the word “fun” before I move on: Coming to Russia and not being able to say it has made me very aware of how often I use it. I’ve had to catch myself numerous times and change what I was going to say because the word “fun” does not translate. (I looked it up in a Russian-English dictionary. The closest translation was “happy” or “pleasing.”) My host mom’s grandson went off for his first day of school and I wanted to tell him to have fun, but I couldn’t. A friend of mine was leaving for class and I wanted to wish him a fun time, but I couldn’t. My host mom asked me how a concert I attended was and I wanted to say the experience was fun, but I couldn’t. I settled for “good.” NOT THE SAME. I can’t say that I write for fun, that I think doing Sudoku is fun or that I’m only studying Russian culture for the fun of it. They don’t understand the concept! I mean, they definitely enjoy themselves and laugh and smile like other people (though certainly not as often as Americans do), but fun is just not a part of the culture. It’s become a joke among us American students. A friend of mine was leaving to go do something and I said to him in English, “I’d tell you to have fun, but I can’t!” He was amused.

Tolerance – admittedly, this word has been abused in America and has become an idol of political correctness, but experiencing its absence makes me appreciate it more than I used to. Russia is gigantic and encompasses more than 100 different ethnicities in its borders, but it is a very prejudicial and hostile place if you don’t fit the mold of what is accepted. During orientation, the program coordinators warned all males in our group that if they had dark hair, tanned skin, dark eyes and facial hair that they might be stopped by the police. Why? Because they look Caucasian, and anybody from the Caucasus is considered a potential terrorist. Racial profiling? You betcha. But people here don’t like anyone who looks like they don’t belong. Fortunately for me, however, they are generally forgiving when you butcher their language. (Funny story about that: I wanted to buy a notebook for school, but all they sell here are graph paper notebooks instead of lined paper. I tried to explain to the cashier – in spectacularly broken Russian – what I wanted and apologized, saying that I speak poor Russian. Her response, though patient and surprisingly kind, was “I know, but go on.” lol)

That's all for now!

Katya