Posts from November 2009

How About ‘Getting Married’ in Russian?

Posted by josefina No Comments
Nov 29 2009

There’s one thing I’ve always had trouble expressing in the Russian language. No, it’s not «мои чувства» [plural: my feelings], but something that has not so much to do with me as a matter of fact. For years now I’ve struggled with the following: how to say in Russian that two women are married? Perhaps you’re thinking to yourselves right now – “Why on Earth would you ever have to say such a thing!” As a matter of fact one of my best friends back home in Sweden is a woman married to another woman (the woman she’s married to is Russian, which sometimes makes my effort in trying to put it «в русских словах» [in Russian words] rather comical) and thus this «естественно» [naturally] comes up in conversation from time to time. But in Russian is it not so easy to express this because there is one verb used for when a man gets married and an entirely different one for when a woman gets married, even though what it all comes down to is the same for both sexes: first «свадьба» [wedding], then «брак», and – for quite a lot of people these days – «развод» [divorce].

For men the verb used is «жениться» [to get married]. Since that almost literally translates into English as ‘to get/take/acquire a wife’, then it is rather obvious that it needs to be followed by an object (the wife) «в предложном падеже» [in prepositional case]: «жениться на ком?» [to get married to whom? (lit. to get married ON whom?)]. After a man is married he becomes «женат» [married], which seems like a logical word now the he has «жена» [a wife]. For example:

«Пётр Иванович женился на Насте» – [Pyotr Ivanovich got married to Nastya (diminutive of Anastasia)].

«Ваня женат на Наташе» – [Vanya is married to Natasha].

For women not just one verb is used in Russian language, but a combination of a verb and an adverb: «выйти/выходить замуж» [to get married]. Literally this phrase translates into English as ‘to go out after (your) husband’, and thus it is no surprise that the question we must ask afterwards to turn the expression to a complete sentence is: «за кого?» [after whom?]. The perfect form of the verb «выйти замуж» is used when you’re talking about a) the future; or b) doing it only once. If you’ve done it more than once, then the verb form you’re looking for is imperfect: «выходить замуж». Once a woman is married in Russia she becomes «замужем» [married (lit. ‘after (her) husband'], which also is very logical considering that she has «муж» [a husband] now. For example:

«Вера Васильевна вышла замуж за Пашу» – [Vera Vasil'evna got married to Pasha (diminutive of Pavel)].

«Дарья замужем за Михаилом» – [Daria is married to Mikhail]. 

In Russia it is tradition to go around town and pose for pictures in front of all sorts of «памятники» [monuments] after the wedding together with family and friends. Why not do like this happy couple and go to the picturesque little town of «Павловск» [Pavlovsk] outside Saint Petersburg to create those unforgettable shots?

And now for the tricky part – if the verbs concerning marital status in Russian is so gender specific, then how to say something like: “My friend is married to a woman”? «Моя пордуга замужем за женщину» [My friend is married (fem.) to a woman]? «Моя подруга женат на женщине» [My friend is married (masc.) to a woman]? Both of these sentences are principally wrong and equally incorrect and cause Russians only to laugh. Believe me; I’ve tried them both more than once. Also I’ve tried saying something like «моя подруга вышла замуж за женщину» [my friend got married (fem.) to a woman] and «моя подруга женилась на женщине» [my friend got married (masc.) to a woman]. In the last sentence I use the verb «жениться» so badly and grammatically erroneous that you should not under any circumstances whatsoever make a note of it!

But the thing is that even though it is not yet legal in Russia for same sex couples to get married here, Russians are far from foreign to the concept. After all, people everywhere are still people and will love each other in many different ways even though heterosexuality may be the only officially accepted form. Russian language may still lack the proper verb for it, but after all it has one verb concerning marriage that is only used when the subject is plural: the perfect form of «пожениться» [to get married]. You can’t use this perfect form with the pronoun «он» [he], it is only used with «они» [they]. And ‘they’ doesn’t necessarily have to be «он и она» [he and she], but could just as likely stand for «она и она» [she and she] or «он и он» [he and he]. That’s why I can always save the day by simply saying:

«Они поженились» – [They got married].

Or even «мои подруги поженились» [My (female) friends got married] if I feel like being a little bit more specific…

«Приключения шведки в русской больнице» [The Adventures of a Swedish Girl in a Russian Hospital]

Posted by josefina No Comments
Nov 24 2009

After publishing my last post here – over a week ago now – I promised myself that I would not blog again until I got well enough to not write about anything related to illnesses. That might have seemed like a great plan when it was still «понедельник» [Monday] and my first fever-free day since coming down with «свиной грипп» [swine flu] only a few days before. On «четверг» [Thursday] this plan turned out not to be so great anymore. On Thursday I woke up to my fourth fever-free day, but still with «тяжёлый кашель» [a heavy cough (this noun ends on a soft sign, and thus make a note of that it is masculine!)] and also «мне было трудно дышать» [it was hard for me to breathe]. Since the fever left my health had not improved at all and thus I decided that «хватит болеть уже» [enough with being sick already] and called up my friend, whose mother is «врач» [a doctor]. Her mother said that I might have «пневмония» [pneumonia] as «осложнение» [complication; sequela, condition resulting from an earlier illness or disease (medicine)] after the swine flu. I was in no condition to go outside and that’s why my friend came over to my place, picked up her phone and «вызвала врача на дом» [called a doctor to come to (my) home]. At this point it should be noted that I have suffered from enormous «страх перед больницами» [a fear of hospitals] my whole life, that «я ужасно боюсь врачей» [I'm terribly afraid of doctors] and that all of this adds up to some sort of «фобия» [phobia, strong and persistent irrational fear] that I can’t get rid of. On Thursday I tried to explain this to the two Russian doctors that turned up in my home, but – like always – they did not understand me at all. Well, perhaps I wouldn’t understand people who told me that «у них страх перед филологами» [they have a fear of philologists] and that’s why they «боятся членить предложение на части речи» [are afraid of dividing a sentence into parts of speech]… Or, which is even more likely, I would’ve thought this fear just as illogical as the doctors find my fear of hospitals.

 This ancient phone actually works! Despite looking like it was simply forgotten here in the last century… Don’t you think that it is strange that «тихий час» [quiet hour] lasts for not one hour, but two? Why isn’t it called «тихие часы» [quiet hours] instead? Maybe because the plural «часы» in Russian also means ‘clock’ and that would make it ‘quiet clock’?

Life, it turned out last Thursday, is apparently still filled with plenty of things I haven’t done yet. But one of them I got done with right then and there: «я поехала в больницу на скорой помощи» [I went to the hospital in an ambulance]. Yes, now I can say that I’ve been in a Russian ambulance! How cool is that? I think it is pretty cool – at least now afterwards! I arrived at the hospital together with my friend to find the waiting room filled with other sick people that were all «с вещами» [with things; personal belongings]. I paid little to no attention to this until I was brought to the doctor some three hours later and the first thing he said, without even really looking twice at me, was: «Итак, вы хотите здесь остаться на ночь?» [So you want to spend the night here?]. My reaction at this was to scream loudly in panic and beg him to listen to my lungs first, and only after this tell me his sentence. He smiled. He listened to my lungs for a while, nodding to himself slowly as he listened, and then sent me to get them x-rayed. I came back from the x-ray and ended up with another doctor because the whole hospital was in such a chaos that my Russian friend in the end concluded: «Это не страна – это катастрофа!» ["This is not a country - this is a catastrophe!"] The other doctor was a woman and she liked me for some reason and started to talk to me while looking at the x-ray of my lungs. She said that «нет пневмонии» [there's no pneumonia] on the x-ray, but that this doesn’t mean that I don’t still have it. She smiled and added that this is especially possible considering my difficulties breathing and the fact that I’ve been sick for over a week now. And that’s how I came to be hospitalized in Russia!

My friend and another friend, whose father just happens to be «ректор нашего университета» [the rector of our university], got my keys and went to my home to gather together my things for me. I was not allowed to leave the hospital. About an hour later the rector himself turned up at the hospital in the middle of the night together with his daughter to hand me a big bag filled with food. They also took my coat and my shoes that I had to give away in order to be officially hospitalized. So I was led into this gloomy room with green walls and a single bed (after the first night I was moved to a double room, but remained alone in it until about two hours before I left on Monday) and placed on the bed by a nurse. She put «капельница» [a drop counter] into the vein on my right arm, but since I was not in such a great mood and really very afraid of where all of this «жидкость» [feminine: fluid] was going to go once inside my body since I’m convinced that my veins are already full with my blood and can’t hold anything more. So I got nervous that my veins would explode and started jumping around and thus the needle shifted and the fluid poured under my skin instead. This was even worse, of course, because also under my skin I didn’t have much room… So I ended up with a small ball under the skin on my arm and spending the whole first night crying and not sleeping at all because of the pain.

All things considered, «я рада, что у меня не хватает опыта для того, чтобы сказать: вот так выглядит обычная палата в русских больницах» [I'm glad that I don't have enough experience to say: well this is what a usual ward in Russian hospitals looks like].

«В пятницу» [on Friday] many things changed for the better for me in the hospital because I found a friend. At half past six the nurse woke me up and said: «Пора сдавать кровь!» [It is time for a blood test!] Then I started (or simply continued) to cry as lingered in the line and trying to be the last one, while I kept repeating over and over again: «Я хочу домой!» [I want to go home!] I noticed how another patient, this young, tall and rather broad-shouldered man, also tried to be the last one in the line and kept looking at me strangely. Later in the day he explained to me that he was jealous of me, since he’s just afraid of hospitals as I am, but I’m allowed to cry since I’m «женщина и маленькая» [a woman and small] but the is not because he’s «мужчина и большой» [a man and big]. After we had been united in our fear of the place where we were located against our will we became close friends and wondered the long hallway together. My weekend at the hospital turned out to be a nice rest mostly thanks to him, as a matter of fact. During my first week of being sick I hardly ate anything at all, and due to this I lost a lot of weight. But during the weekend my new friend kept feeding me all sorts of good food and thus I managed to gain back some and regain a lot of energy in the process, too. He turned out to be a real gentleman! We were so inseparable during the weekend that the nurses suspected us to have become a couple even…

This is one of the views from the floor in the hospital where I was. When I took this picture my new friend told me not to and that I shouldn’t show «некрасивые стороны его родины» [the shabby sides of his native country]. But I always want to show Russia just as she is, and because this is how she looks a lot of the time I wanted to take a picture of it.

All in all I am very thankful now that I ended up in the hospital on Thursday, even though I didn’t want to go there in the first place. When I was there I got a lot of medication and a lot of rest and got to eat a lot and now I’m feeling much better. Even though the hospital was pretty much in chaos and rather crazy the whole time I was there – there’s after all «эпидемия» [an epidemic] going on right now – I think the doctors and the nurses did the best they could working under such strained circumstances. «В понедельник меня выписали» [on Monday I was discharged from the hospital] and could go home with just a small cough and breathing normally! Life is full of different experiences, and many of them aren’t really pleasant while we’re going through them, but in the end that’s really what they are and that’s why we need them – as experiences. Now I can say that I’ve been «в русской больнице» [in a Russian hospital]. What’s left for me to do in this country? Well, my «научный руководитель» [academic guidance councilor] put it this way: «Тебе осталось только побывать в русской тюрьме» [All left for you to do is spend some time in Russian prison]. Let’s hope that’s one experience I WON’T be gaining! And let’s also hope that this is the last post I’ll be writing on the subject of «болезнь» [feminine: illness, disease, sickness, malady; trouble] for some time to come!

Anyway, now you all know the reason as to why I didn’t write anything here for an entire week… I promise a soon return to posts on only grammar and literature! 

Reading for/about the Sick: «Униженные и оскорблённые» [The Humiliated and Insulted]

Posted by josefina No Comments
Nov 17 2009

Though I am still not entirely «здорова» [healthy] yet, today I «чувствую себя гораздо лучше» [feel much better] than the days before and that’s why I finally have enough strength to write a post. I was «очень тронута» [very touched] by all of your kind wishes of health and for me to get better soon, which is why I think I’m improving as fast as I am! «Болеть» [being sick] is, as we all know, one of the most boring situations a human being can be in. When you’re sick you can’t really do anything at all, except stay in bed and try to sleep as not to let the fever get the best of you. But when you’re sick you can also «читать книгу» [read a book], because reading books are very easily done when in bed. The problem is what book to choose. My choice was the only novel written by «Фёдор Михаилович Достоевский» [Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoevsky] that I haven’t actually read before: «Униженные и оскорблённые» ["The Humiliated and Insulted"]. Before this I had already managed to read everything by Dostoevsky, some novels even twice (either both in Swedish and Russian or both in English and Russian) wrapping it up about a year ago with «Подросток» ["A Raw Youth"]. Do not let this surprise you, though – after I first read ‘Dusty’ (as I like to call him after the Allen Ginsberg poem) at the age of 18 I managed to swallow almost everything from «Бедные люди» ["Poor Folk"] to «Братья Карамазовы» ["The Brothers Karamazov"] within a year in different translations. Somehow I never got a around to «Униженные и оскорблённые» ["The Humiliated and Insulted"], even though I tried once to read it in an English translation when I was also sick – I was 19 at the time and living in Saint Petersburg. But I couldn’t do it. The book was too full of «болезнь» [sickness] for my taste back then and I put away the book for good after about a 100 pages.

Five years later I picked it up again and this time I found it relieving to read about all these «нездоровые» [unhealthy] people in Saint Petersburg back in the 1800′s. Everyone in this book «болеет» [is sick/ill]. On every page you find things like: «Я сделался больной» [I became sick], or «Она похудела» [She had lost weight], or «Он побледнел» [He had turned pale], or «Она была в бреду» [She was delirious], or «Он хворал» [He was ill/sick]. The imperfect verb «хворать» [be ill, be sick] is old and thus used in modern Russian language mostly when talking ironically of disease, but back in Dostoevsky’s days this verb wasn’t old at all (or not AS old anyway) and that’s why when he uses it then it is without any irony. Reading about other sick people when you are sick yourself is refreshing and you feel like you’re not alone at all but part of a world filled with other sick people also going through fevers and pains. But then again, I’m still in a town «в карантине» [in quarantine] and around me are thousands of other sick people so why I am feeling alone? Because you don’t really get to meet any other sick people when you are yourself sick…

 Meet my «полка с книгами Достоевского или о Достоевском» [bookshelf with books by Dostoevsky or about Dostoevsky]. It used to be ONE bookshelf, anyway. As you can see clearly on the picture above, «великий русский писатель» [the great Russian writer] has started to spread to other book shelves…

Let me tell you something about Dostoevsky. Judging from what I’ve got by him and from what I’ve read of him and about him and the fact that I’ve translated him and written a BA thesis on him and even worked «в музее Достоевского в Омске» [in the Dostoevsky Museum in Omsk], I think I know a thing or two about him. When dealing with Dostoevsky you should know this first of all: «Фёдор Михаилович жизни-то не изобразил» [Fyodor Mikhailovich didn't portray life]. If you think you’ll find «реализм» [realism] when opening up a copy of «Записки из подполья» ["Notes from Underground"] then you are sorely mistaken. Dostoevsky called what he wrote «фантастический реализм» [fantastic realism] but that was not really what he was about anyway; what he wanted to do was «найти в человеке человека» [to find in the human being a human being]. That’s why we shouldn’t get hung up on small details in his novels that are unrealistic or seem illogical. Let’s take “The Humiliated and Insulted”, for example, since I’ve just finished reading it. This book could also be called “Much Ado about Nothing” (perhaps Dostoevsky knew this title had already been used before him in world literature). In this book not a single character work as much as a day – if you don’t count the main hero when he’s writing his books – but keep going around to each other to solve problems that seem unsolvable to them, but not to the reader.

«Униженные и оскорблённые» is a novel about highly complicated «личные отношения» [personal relations] between a small group of people related to each other in one way or another. The main hero is «Ваня» [Vanya], a young writer that has just had a big success with his first novel, despite being chronically ill and already early on in the novel he declares that he is dying (but then does not mention it anymore). Vanya is in love with «Наташа» [Natasha], a girl together with whom he grew up in the country side before going to Saint Petersburg to study. Natasha is in love with «Алёша» [Aljosja], the stupid and rather thoughtless son of «князь Валковский» [prince Valkovsky]. Prince Valkovsky used to be good friends with Natasha’s parents, «Ихменевы» [the Ikhmenevs], and they also worked for him but now they are in a fight over some money and that’s why they have all left the province for Saint Petersburg in order to settle their differences.

The novel begins with how «Ваня» [Vanya] becomes witness to how the old man «Смит» [Smith] with his equally old dog «Азорка» [Azorka] die in public and decides to move into the old man’s apartment. At this apartment his grandchild «Нелли» [Nelly] shows up one day. Nelly is also chronically sick with epilepsy and living under awful conditions with drunkards and so Vanya saves her and as he tries to do so he runs into his former classmate «Маслобоев» [Masloboev] in the street – who is very drunk also, but decides to help Vanya save Nelly. Nelly turns out to be the daughter of «князь Валковский» [prince Valkovsky], who before both «унизил» [humiliated] and «оскорбил» [insulted] her mother even though he was officially married to her and stolen a large amount of money from her, causing her to die «в чахотке» [in tuberculosis] «в подвале» [in the basement] without any money and leaving her daughter to beg on the streets for food. Prince Valkovsky is not bothered by this at all, and in his evil, selfish and disgusting character we can see how Dostoevsky is beginning to work his way artistically toward such unforgettable bad guys of his like «Свидригайлов» [Svidrigajlov] in “Crime and Punishment” and «Ставрогин» [Stavrogin] in “The Devils”. Prince Valkovsky is never accused of sexually abusing under-age girls in the book – which is the ultimate crime in the world of Dostoevsky, the only crime you are never forgiven – but toward the end we are informed that he recently got engaged to a fourteen year old… Before this he tries desperately to get his foolish son Aljosja away from the poor Natasha, and thus hooks him up with the wealthy young girl «Катя» [Katya]. Aljosja proves his lack of stamina by dating both girls and also visiting some prostitutes in-between hiss two women and after always coming home to Natasha to fall at her feet and beg her forgiveness… In the end of the novel everyone is recovering from the humiliation and insults, and gaining back all the weight that they lost during the 1,5 year that the novel took place and during which they were all suffering from various diseases. Except for epilepsy Dostoevsky is not the kind of writer to specify just exactly what his characters have come down with.

An illustration of «Нелли» [Nelly] from the book in a collection of Dostoevsky’s works in 12 volumes published in 1982. Why is it that I can’t read a single book without it ending up looking like this – filled with post-its?!

When we’re talking Dostoevsky we must never forget that no matter how unrealistic his artistic world is, he is first and foremost «христианский писатель» [a Christian writer]. That’s why the key to understanding his sometimes feverishly strange yet wonderfully captivating dialogues between people over vodka in different questionable establishments is to always keep an eye on where he puts «Новый Завет» [The New Testament]. In this novel it turns up early on in the apartment of the old man Smith, and was the book that he used to teach Nelly. In the culmination of the novel Nelly brings up the Good Book again, and the part quoted is how Jesus said «прощайте обиды» [forgive insults] and that’s when we realize what this book is about: «прощение» [forgiveness]. In the same way we can easily come to terms with “Crime and Punishment” by looking at what chapter Sonya reads to Raskolnikov. Remember Lazarus? Yes, of course you do, and then it is no surprise to you that this is a novel about «воскресение» [resurrection]. Putting things simply – Dostoevsky didn’t think outside the box, i.e. the Bible; he only thought inside the box. Think this somewhat limited his chances of reaching a broad audience world-wide? Well, not really. Despite claiming to rather want to ‘stay with Jesus, if Jesus is outside the truth, than with the truth’ Dostoevsky did well as a writer and succeeded in becoming the most influential 19th century writer in the 20th century.

Did you know that The Old Testament is called «Ветхий Завет» in Russian? I got this question on an exam once, and after answering it correctly the professor was so impressed that he decided not to ask me anything else. Just thought I could give someone else this tip!

Now I’m off to bed once again…

«В карантине» [In Quarantine]

Posted by josefina No Comments
Nov 13 2009

«Вот и началось…» [And so it has begun...] Yesterday I woke up with a cough and a terrible head ache, went to the doctor at the university who convinced me that «у меня нет свиного гриппа» [I don't have the swine flu] and sent me to the pharmacy to retrieve necessary medicine. And yesterday I did believe her, because I kept getting better steadily during the day. Then today I wake up some time after lunch and realized that I have much higher fever than yesterday and greater pain in my entire body. After consulting with my mother in Sweden over the phone, it was settled finally that «у меня есть грипп A/H1N1» [I have the A/H1N1 flu]. «Вот и прекрасно!» [ironic: Well isn't that wonderful!] Today, while rolling around in my bed, I found out per sms from a friend that «университет закрыт на неделю до 20 (двадцатого) ноября» [the university is closed for a week until the 20th of November]. Now I have read up on how things are locally in the town where I live, «Екатеринбург» [Yekaterinburg], and as it turns out I am far from alone. The past three days 12,500 people have become sick here, and 70% of them are very likely to have the A/H1N1 flu, as you can read more about in this article here: «С 13 (тринадцатого) ноября в Екатеринбурге вводится карантин» ["Beginning on the 13th of November Yekaterinburg will be in quarantine"]. At least I won’t be missing out on any classes due to my sickness… And I’ve never been in quarantine before. Could be interesting. If I weren’t this sick, that is… The only reason as to why I’m writing this is to forewarn all of you readers that you might not hear from me in a while! I’ll be back once I’m feeling better, could be a few days, could be a week. I don’t know. I’m off to bed now, or else I might just pass out in front of the computer. «Нехорошо!» [Not good!]

«Моя личная армия лекарств» [My personal army of medicine].

Two Years with Russian Blog!

Posted by josefina No Comments
Nov 9 2009

«Да!» [Yes!] «Наконец!» [Finally!] Today is not just another day, today is «девятое ноября» [the 9th of November] and a very special day. Why? Not simply because today is «день рождения великого русского писателя Ивана Тургенева» [the birthday of the great Russian writer Ivan Turgenev] – happy 191st b’day to the author of «Отцы и дети» ["Fathers and Sons"]! – but also because «в этот день» [on this day] two years ago I published my first post here on this blog. So it is finally official: «я пишу для этого блога про русский язык, русскую культуру и русскую литературу уже два года» [I have written for this blog about Russian language, Russian culture and Russian literature for two years already]. «Ура!» [Hurrah!] I thought I’d take today to switch to a more personal tone in this post – something I rarely do due to the enormous amounts of grammar that constantly need to be dealt with and explained. Today I will tell you a little something about «моя жизнь тут в России» [my life here in Russia]. After all, most of the readers of this blog have probably noticed a steady decrease in the amount of post published here these days, and there’s an explanation for this. This explanation is «моя русская жизнь» [my Russian life]. Before continuing any further I would also like to say that – just like I did in my post a year ago – all of your comments are very dear to me! I love it when you correct me and my sometimes sloppy grammar (big shout out to all the native speakers who read this blog! Thank you! both Russians and native speakers of English, that is…). I love it when you share your thoughts and experiences from Russia with me, and I would very much like this dialogue between us to continue also in the future. So keep reading, and I’ll keep writing – anytime I get – and keep commenting! I love the comments. They give me so many new ideas of what to write about, so keep them coming!

 On nights like these I fall in love with Russia all over again…

What can I say about myself, then? When I started writing this blog two years ago I was 22 years old and living my fourth year in Russia. Now I’m 24 years old and this is already my sixth year in this country. Originally I’m «из Гётеборга» [from Gothenburg] the second biggest city «в Швеции» [in Sweden]. I moved «в Россию» [to Russia] in late August 2004 when I was 19 years old. First I lived in Saint Petersburg for a semester, while I studied Russian as a foreign language. In February 2005 I moved «в Омск» [to Omsk] «в Сибири» [in Siberia] where I also studied Russian as a foreign language. I stayed in Omsk for a year and a half and even though it is pretty much impossible to sum up that experience in just a few words, I can say this much: it changed who I am forever. Summing things up even more I can say that I have grown up in this country. When I arrived here I didn’t know anything. I was a teenager with nothing but a huge dream: I wanted to become a professor of Russian literature. But at the time I didn’t speak Russian at all. All I knew when I arrived were two words: «пиво» [beer] and «привет» [hi]. Needless to say, my first week in this country was splendid… I am living proof that it is actually possible to «выучить язык» [to learn (completely, fully) a language] just by living in a country and studying hard and trying with all that you’ve got. Now I wasn’t always the best student. Right now I am the best student I have ever been, as a matter of fact, but I’ve always tried hard and spent a lot of time with Russians. And that’s how I learned this language and this country’s culture – from spending a lot of time with Russian friends. If you don’t have anyone to talk to, then you’re not going to learn how to talk. So during these past five years and plus-two months I’ve done a lot of talking! That’s one of the best advices I can give to anyone who wants to learn Russian – find Russian speaking friends! If you’re not in Russia, then go to a language club or café and sit there with your little phrase book and try your best at making conversation. Who knows? Maybe you’ll not only learn something new, but also find a new friend in the process….

I moved «в Екатеринбург» [to Yekaterinburg] in late August 2006 and have been living here ever since. All the time I’ve been a student «в Уральском государственном университете» [at Ural State University], «на филологическом факультете» [at the department of philology]. Now I’m a second year student «в магистратуре» [in the Master's program] and will be graduating in June next year with a diploma that says I’m «преподаватель русской литературы» [a university teacher of Russian literature] with all «отлично» [‘excellent', the equivalent of an A or a 5] grades – so far, anyway (keeping my fingers crossed). I have already worked as a university teacher, though, at Ural State University since October 2007. But I don’t teach what I’ve actually studied; I teach Swedish as a foreign language. And that’s one of the main reasons as to why I don’t have enough time to write here as much as I would like to since the beginning of this fall semester – this year I have three groups in different levels and I teach three evenings straight a week, leaving me almost dead by Friday night. I have two hour classes every Wednesday, Thursday and Friday from 18.30 to 20.30. But I love to teach, and I love my Russian students. We learn from each other, I teach them Swedish and they teach me Russian, they teach me about Russian reality and I try my best to show them what Swedish reality is like. I would also advice anyone who ever gets to chance to teach abroad to take this chance – it can give you so much! You’ll meet lovely people, though – of course – there are going to be many though times and rough patches and hard obstacles to overcome. Thankfully, I only have lectures in the Master’s program on Mondays and Tuesdays, so that leaves me with enough time to prepare my own classes the rest of the week. When I’m not stuck reading tons of Russian literature for seminars, that is…

I love Russian literature. I don’t think I’ve ever loved anything as much as I love Russian literature (except for my family). That’s why I also love this painting of «Владимир Маяковский» [Vladimir Mayakovsky] that I came across on my way home one evening.

As you’ve probably noticed if you’ve been reading this blog already for some time, I have two favorite Russian writers that are dearer to me than all the rest of them (although I appreciate all of them equally!): «Фёдор Достоевский» [Fyodor Dostoevsky] and «Варлам Шаламов» [Varlam Shalamov]. My Bachelor’s thesis was on Dostoevsky’s time in Siberia, and my future Master’s dissertation will be on how he used material that he collected during his time there in his future novels. But in the future I would like to go on and research the connection between these two writers; I would love to write a doctoral dissertation on how Shalamov used Dostoevsky’s “Notes from the Dead House” in his “Stories from Kolyma”. To get even more personal I can reveal that I have applied to study at a graduate program in the U.S., but I’m not sure if I’m going to get in. Come early February and I’ll know where I’ll be headed next – perhaps, to California! If not, then I will continue to dedicate myself to Russian literature and Russian language somewhere else. Perhaps I’ll move back home to Sweden and start working at the university there instead. I would have loved to stay in Russia for all of my life, but for many reasons this is not the best place to start an academic career. And I really want to start an academic career! Does that sound silly? I suppose it is a little bit silly. But then again, most dreams are a bit silly… My ultimate life goal – or maybe it is just a dream anyway – would be to move back to Russia in a couple of years, once I’m done with my Ph. D. and go teach somewhere in Siberia. I love the city of «Томск» [Tomsk], where I’ve been twice, but I think I’d rather go to «Иркутск» [Irkutsk] and live there instead, even though I’ve never even been there… Not even traveled through!

I think it is true that once you’ve become very close to a foreign culture, when you’ve come to close that it has become a part of who you are, then you can never truly let go of it. Even if I’m not always going to live in Russia, a part of my heart will always belong to this country. People here often ask me about my future, and since I don’t know where I’ll end up, I always tell them: «Несмотря ни на что, душа моя требует России!» [Despite everything, my soul demands Russia!] There is still much in this country left for me to discover, and still I have many stories that I haven’t yet told anyone… This country has taught me a lot. And I am so thankful for everything that this country has given to me – education, experience, friendship. Maybe this sounds like I’m already saying «до свидания» [farewell] with another eight months left to spend here? That’s not entirely true. I’m just summing up what I’ve come to understand so far. And what I’ve come to understand is this – life is beautiful. And no matter what we must always appreciate, respect and love life.

 What it all comes down to is that I’m just «обычная девушка» [an ordinary girl] and like all other girls I love «пить вишнёвое пиво» [to drink cherry beer]. So is there a better way to end today’s post than to say «на здоровье!» [cheers!]?

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