Before I started studying Russian, Denwood tried to ease my fears of embarking on the notoriously difficult language. "Once you get the alphabet down, it's not too different than studying a romance language."
Right. I've never studied a romance language with six cases and three genders. But I must thank you, Denwood, for giving me the confidence to start on the task, which, from my wobbly pressboard desk stacked with Russian grammar books, seems near impossible at the moment.
Yes, cognates exist. Stop/stop, stul/chair, vada/water, and they get better once you start on scientific and political vocabulary! But I'd gladly trade a handful of these gems for a word for hello I could actually wrap my mind around. For some reason Russian speakers are quite attached to greeting one another with an onslaught of consonants that goes something like Zravstvujtye. Yikes. So much for breaking the ice without verbal trippage.
First days of Russian lessons
I'm now two days and 10 lessons into this attempt, not counting of course the class in Istanbul in which we mostly joked around with our teacher about Russian and Russians in Turkish. I have 5 hours a day.
First is two hours of Reading and Listening with V. Her beauty and unique interpretation of professional attire has won her a nickname among the foreign teachers and students that I know better than to put into print. She's patient and a decent teacher, and for the record I prefer her attire to the unique interpretation of professional attire popular among 20-something TEFL teachers.
Next I have two hours of Conversation with A. Bless her heart for enduring the excruciating task of conversing with me Russian. She's Kyrgyz, and also teaches English. Let me say first that she is nice, kind and from what I've seen, a wonderful person. Let me say, with that out of the way, that she talks a bit like Barney - yes, the big purple dinosaur - teaching new words to his teething television audience.
She also wasn't able to tell me the Russian word for interpreter. "Translator," I offered, assuming the problem was with her English. "A person who writes Russian from English, and English from Russian."
"I know, I know," she said, and tried to find it in the dictionary. "I don't know Russian word."
This is my excuse if I leave Bishkek sounding like a fool.
After a break for lunch, 2 hours of Russian Grammar with J. Great teacher, doesn't waste a single moment of the lesson. She teaches only in Russian, clarifying only in English if you are completely lost. The irony in this is that she seems to be the only teacher who speaks proper English. It is a huge confidence boost to be able to communicate with her in Russian, even though she seems the only Russian speaker in the world with which I can do so.
Stay tuned
Next installment - Kvas, plov and innocents abroad. Probably.
1 comment:
Three genders? Like, "he," "she," and "it?" I'm thoroughly more impressed with Russian than I was before.
It sounds a little excruciating to learn Russian, but also a little bit fun somehow. ^ ^ And Denwood's a sweetheart.
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