So There Was This One Time…

You are in for a treat, because this post is brought to you by two words. The first is анекдоты (ah-neek-DOE-ty), meaning “anecdotes” (though Russian anecdotes are usually short stories with punch lines). The second word is now my favorite in the entire Russian language: верблюд (veer-BLOOT), meaning “camel.”

The following are five stories I’ve been dying to retell:

5. Close Encounters of the Deaf Kind

For those that don’t know, I took 3 years of ASL (American Sign Language) in high school. Although I’m out-of-practice, I still try to understand sign whenever I see it. The other day, I had the opportunity to put my rusty reading skills to the test when I saw a pair of Russian deaf women on the metro. I didn’t understand much of what they were saying, though I did catch something about how one woman’s mom was driving somewhere the day before and saw something funny. Honestly, however, even if my interpreting skills were at their peak, I probably wouldn’t have understood too much more. Russian sign is its own language, much like spoken Russian is different from Polish, Czech or Croatian. There might be overlap in ASL and RSL, but it wouldn’t be the same. Anyway, I had fun watching them sign and seeing their expressiveness. (I don’t know if you’ve had the privilege of watching deaf people talk, but they are extremely dynamic with their facial expressions.) I also enjoyed watching them because I understood what they were talking about better than anyone else on the metro, for a change. Thus, I indulged in a few moments of linguistic superiority. Don’t judge.

4. Never Trust the Militsia

I’ve said already that the police in Russia are corrupt and that I’m afraid of them. In case you didn’t believe me, this is what my professor told me happened to her husband: He was heading toward his car after making a withdrawal from the bank (or something to that effect) when the militsia stopped him and asked for his documentation. He opened his wallet to get his paperwork and the militsia noticed he had a good amount of cash. They started to question him about where he had gotten so much money and eventually made him come down to the station to write a statement saying how he obtained it. They stuck him in an interrogation room, made him take out all the money in his wallet and lay it on the desk, and gave him a pen and paper on which to itemize who had given him money. Then they left the room. Just as he was beginning to write, the lights went out. The door opened again, the militsia swept around the room, then the lights came back on – and the money was gone. The husband asked, “Where’s my money?” and the militsia replied, “What money?” What could he do, report the crime? To the people who had committed it? They let him go and he went home. Never trust the militsia.

Another, less frightening story from the same professor: She had her purse stolen and reported the crime to the militsia. They said, “thank you, we’ll look into it.” Two years passed, and she finally got a call from the militsia, saying they might have captured the robber. Two years later! They asked her to come in and make an identification. The conversation that ensued was hilarious.

Militsia guy: “Do you think you could make a positive identification?”

Professor: “It’s been two years. Besides, all I saw was his behind as he ran away.”

Militsia guy (totally serious): “We’ll make the suspects turn around. Do you think you could recognize his behind?”

Professor: “Uh…no...”

Militsia guy: “Oh, well. Good day.”

~ click ~

Moral of the story? Don’t expect swift justice from the Russian militsia. And next time you get your purse stolen, keep the image of the hooligan’s rear end engrained in your memory, just in case.

3. Classy People Like Teremok

I’ve already talked about this amazing restaurant chain in Piter called Teremok: the one that serves a million variations of блины (blintzes) and is possibly the thing I will miss the most, when I leave. Well, yesterday, after spending a couple hours in the Russian Museum (where excursion buddy and I saw Russian icon art from the 13^th century!) we decided to eat at Teremok. While I was in line, I turned around to say something to excursion buddy when I saw a man and woman in period dress standing behind him. They were probably on their lunch break from working one of the nearby historical sites, but they were still entirely decked out in 18^th-century aristocratic garb, white powder wigs and all. I was really tempted to pull out my camera and take a picture, but I fought the urge. I don’t know about you, but there is something really anachronistically funny about Duke and Duchess Russia ordering fast food.

2. Putin Looks Like Dobby

If you think all I learn in my Russian classes is how to speak Russian, you are quite mistaken. I’ve learned a great deal about Russian life, culture, food, history, architecture, as well as the random opinions of my professors. One of the more recent amusing tangents in Grammar was my fault, when I asked (in perfect Russian grammar, I might add) what my professor would do if she met Putin. What began as a simple question launched into a discussion about how she thought Putin was a great guy (tidbit for Mom: apparently he’s a fabulous communicator and master of the Russian language) but she thought he looked like Dobby, from the Harry Potter movies. Fortunately for my prof, in case any FSB agents happen to be reading my blog, this connection has been made before. Google “Putin and Dobby” and you’ll see.

1. It’s 10 o’clock – Do You Know Where Your Camel Is?

If you’ve ever taken foreign language classes, you know that you have to come up with sentences using whatever grammatical structure you happen to be discussing in class. It can be difficult to think of examples on the fly, or just plain boring. Solution? Pick a random, silly word and use it in as many examples as possible. Like “camel.”

When my friend Jay first whipped out the camel sentences, it was absolutely hilarious, and everyone thought so. Now, however, some of our professors have begun reaching their heretofore-unknown camel tolerance limit and react to his examples with a mixture of mild frustration and tempered amusement. Naturally, that makes camel sentences even funnier. There’s talk of everyone coming in one day, ready with examples featuring other random animals, but it probably won’t happen. We wouldn’t want our teachers jumping into the Neva in despair. Or, purposefully teaching us improper Russian grammar…

Until next camel,

Katya