Russify
Note: The following post is extended in length, but diverse in culture…
Once upon a time, Husband-Will’s self-development group decided to have a party. ‘Why not make it international?’ they decided. ‘I’ll bring Russian food,’ volunteered Husband-Will. ‘Why not American cuisine?’ queried Wife-And-Chief-Chef-Cheryl-Thinking-Of-All-The-Tried-And-True-Recipes-To-Choose-From. But alas, North America was already covered by Friend-Michael, who was bringing a Canadian dish, and thus the Chef was faced with whipping up an edible Russian meal.
Right, something Russian shouldn’t be that daunting of a prospect for me. In fact, Russia has a special place in our family’s collective heart. More literally, our children’s hearts…and the rest of their bodies…are Russian by birth. Husband-Will and I spent some wonderfully memorable time in that amazingly enigmatic country. I have spent countless hours studying the Russian language, hoping a) to be able to converse with my then-toddler children, and b) to achieve some level of proficiency should the need arise. Doesn’t everyone need a bit of Russian language in an emergency?
What has resulted is fairly passable conversation, as long as we stay on a toddler level! I’m a pro at saying, ‘Don’t touch that!’
Warning: Linguistic Diversion Ahead:
There is an embarrassing drawback in wanting to learn a language with as ‘native’ an accent as possible. Admittedly I can do a reasonably native Russian accent; it’s nothing learned, just have an ear for it. That’s not to say I’m a good mimic. I’m downright worthless at other accents. Fakeroony! But, I’m chuffed when a Russian compliments me, after our initial greeting, saying that my accent is spot-on. BUT (and here’s the life lesson)….having a good accent is no substitute for knowing vocabulary! And so the conversation goes something like this (translated into English of course)…
‘Hello,’ I say, putting on my best ‘native Russian’ accent.
‘Hello,’ replies the actual native Russian.
‘My name is Cheryl, nice to meet you.’
‘Nice to meet you as well. Your Russian is very good.’
‘Thank you. I don’t know many words and don’t understand it very well, but I can speak a little.’
‘Oh no, your Russian is very good! Where did you learn it? In university? Do you have family that is Russian? Were you ever in Russia? For holiday? For business? What parts of Russia did you visit? What, you’re American? I have friends who went to America once. They enjoyed themselves immensely and…..’
From the second sentence, I am lost. I have absolutely no idea what this person is saying. The bright glint of initial interest in my eye has turned into a glazed stare as I try to decipher one or two words which will help me understand what in the world this person is communicating! I have to repeat my ‘no-this-is-not-just-self-deprecation-I-really-don’t-understand-much’ disclaimer. And so, the native Russian politely turns away with a confused look on his face, unable to comprehend the total dolt with the good accent.
But back to the original topic…
I decided to experiment with borscht, a lovely vegetable soup with beets-giving-it-a-superbly-dark-reddish-hue, with a dash of dill and a spot of sour cream. Yum! Traditionally eaten with black bread or pirogi, little meat turnovers. So, after cheating by using store-bought puff pastry, I made a batch of pirogi as well…
Warning: Second Linguistic Diversion:
Please note that the pronunciation of pirogi is peer-ah-GEE, not puh-RO-gee. Sorry, just a quirk of mine…accents, you know.
And since we had so much quantity, the kids and I would have a Russian meal as well. Won’t hurt ‘em. They need to be in touch with their Russian heritage. What a great opportunity….! Their response?
Alexei-aka-Alex: ‘Yuck, I don’t like the soup. I like the meat things, dipped in ketchup, of course.’
Ekaterina-aka-Kate-and-ever-the-diplomat: ‘Well, the soup’s okay, but I have to say that I’m more American or Irish in my food tastes.’
Guess we’ll have to touch their Russian heritage in other ways (or dip everything in ketchup)!