Posts from January 2010

Doing it Russian style means doing it «коллективно» [collectively]

Posted by josefina 14 Comments
Jan 29 2010

The title of today’s post might (actually have been intended to) lead my dear readers’ minds astray. Despite whatever you might have thought that this post was going to be about, let me assure you that «нет, не это я имела в виду» [no, that was not what I had in mind]. What I actually «имела в виду» [had in mind] was something entirely different – the importance of the «коллектив» [collective; group of people] in Russian society and culture. It is not surprising, I guess, that the country which once tried to build «коммунизм» [Communism] would still have some features of the «все за одного, один за всех» [all for one, one for all] type of thinking intact today. How do I know this? you might ask. As a matter of fact, I know this because I learned it while being a part of a «дружный коллектив» [harmonious, united; amicable collective] in Russia during the past year and a half. This united and harmonious collective is the «группа» [group] of students with which I am currently studying «в магистратуре» [in the Master's program] at Ural State University here in Yekaterinburg. But before telling you of how things are done «коллективно» [collectively] in today’s Russia, I must spend a few words explaining «система высшего обрзазования в Российской федерации» [the system of higher education in the Russian Federation]. I’m not going to tell you EVERYTHING about this, though, both because it is impossible (it is really THAT complicated) and because that is beside the point. What I will focus on today – and through which I will illustrate an important aspect of «коллективность» [fem. ‘collectivity'] – is «сдача экзаменов» [passing of exams] in Russian universities.

The process of passing exams is known as «сдача» in Russian, though you might come to find any of the following translations when looking up this word in the dictionary: lease; surrender; delivery; change, money received back after paying for goods; hit back. It is called «сдача» because of the phrases «сдавать экзамен» [impfv. to TAKE an exam] and «сдать экзамен» [pfv. to PASS an exam].

 All students at institutions of higher learning in Russia have the following in their possession: «зачётная книжка» [a student's record book]. Colloquially it is known as a «зачётка». In order to receive your «диплом» [diploma, certificate given upon completion of a course of study (i.e. high school, university, etc.)] after finishing your education you must turn your «зачётка» in and you’ll never see it again in your life. That’s why this picture is almost sad – soon I will have to part with ‘her’ forever…

At the end of every course in Russian universities you are given a «список вопросов к экзамену» [list of questions for the exam]. It is imperative for you to be aware of the fact that this list is never – as is the general practice in most other countries – given to you at the BEGINNING of a course, but only at the very END of it. While taking a class in a Russian university you never can be completely sure what is actually required of you to know in order to pass it. Sometimes you’ll get a «список литературы» [list of literature (required reading)] in the beginning of a class, but far from always. The amount of questions varies greatly – from only ten up to a hundred. On the exam you will be handed what is known as a «билет» [ticket] from the professor. This ‘ticket’ contains a certain number of the questions from the list mentioned earlier. «Если повезёт» [if (you) get lucky] it could be only one question; if you don’t get so lucky then you might have to answer up to five questions… In Russian universities almost all exams are «устные экзамены» [oral exams]. But before you are brought in front of the professor to start explaining the answers to them, you get an hour or two to prepare your answers «письменно» [in writing]. The tricky part about passing exams in Russia is that the professor can always ask you more questions than what was initially on your «билет». Usually they do this if they feel that you haven’t really answered good enough to pass it. Or if they’re unsure what grade to give you – if you actually deserve «отлично» [excellent (the equivalent of A or 5 in other grade systems)] instead of «хорошо» [good (B or 4)]; or «хорошо» instead of just «удовлетворительно» [satisfactory (C or 3)].

After passing an exam the professor will write your grade – by hand! – in your «зачётка» like this. Once a grade has been written in it there’s nothing you can do to change it. You can cry, and you can shout, but it won’t make «хорошо» miraculously turn into «отлично».

So where in all of this does the «коллектив» so proudly stated in today’s title enter into the picture? I’ll tell you exactly how: in how I and my «учебная группа» [study group; group of students] prepared during January for our exam in the subject «История и философия науки» [History and Philosophy of Science]. The «список вопросов» [list of questions] for this exam contained forty questions and we’re twenty students in the group. Thus we divided the questions between us and each person prepared answers to two questions. Then we e-mailed the answers to one girl in our group and she compiled all of our answers into one big document which was sent to everyone. It is not just my group that decided to prepare for exams «коллективно» [collectively]; I’ve heard that it is actually a very common practice found all over Russia. Usually only a few people in a study group go together this way; it is rarer to find such a group like mine where everyone is prepared to take «ответственность» [responsibility] for themselves as well as for the others. Because to do something like this «коллективно» [collectively] is dependent on the fact that everyone delivers – since ALL questions are included on the exam and it will be your fault if you didn’t prepare an answer in time and an other student failed the exam because of it.

On the above-mentioned exam «мне повезло» [I got lucky] – one of the questions on my ticket was one of the questions for which I had prepared the answer… No wonder «я сдала на отлично» [I passed it with the grade 'excellent']!

And I don’t know whether I should feel happy or sad about the fact that I only have ONE exam left to pass here in Russia. In a way, I feel very sad about it because when I turn in my «зачётка» [student's record book] after passing «государственный выпускной экзамен по русской литературе» [state final exam in Russian literature] in a month, I know that it will be «конец эпохе» [the end of an era]. On the other hand, I also feel equally happy because I know a completely new adventure awaits me after all of this has been done (yeah, I did get accepted to Berkeley!)…

Russian Cases: «с чем?» [with what?], or «творительный падеж» [the instrumental case]

Posted by josefina No Comments
Jan 24 2010

«Что это?» [what is this?] This is «книжный шкаф С ПОЛНЫМ СОБРАНИЕМ сочинений Владимира Ильича Ленина» [a bookshelf WITH (THE) COMPLETE COLLECTION of works by Vladimir Il'ich Lenin]. But in order to answer the question «сколько в нём томов?» [how many volumes are there in it (lit. ‘in him' since the noun ‘collection' in Russian is neuter)?] I’d recommend you to count them yourself…

A fairly large amount of time here has been devoted to discuss «падежи русского языка» [the cases of Russian language]. And this is a fact that should not be shocking to anyone, considering that Russian language has no less than «шесть падежей» [six cases] (now THIS kind of information might shock some!). Previously on the blog there have been posts on «винительный падеж» [accusative] and «дательный падеж» [dative]. And so it has finally come to this: «творительный падеж» [instrumental case]. This particular case is also known as Russian language’s ‘wildest case’. To whom is it known as this, you might wonder; who considers it to be «дикий» [wild, savage; barbarous, tameless]? Well, I think it this is such a common thought that it must have crossed anyone’s mind the first time they came face to face with it (implicitly ‘anyone’ in this context means ‘anyone who’s ever tried to learn Russian’, but I think you got that, right?). «Творительный падеж» [instrumental case] is ‘wild’ first and foremost to people with native languages lacking anything like it. It changes the words in ways unheard of to us. Let me give you an easy example of this: take the tiny, nice, masculine noun «путь» [way, path; track, lane; road, avenue] and put it in the instrumental case and you’ll receive something that’s almost completely transformed: «путём»! Did you see that? Did you see how the instrumental case just changed HALF of the whole word? Now if that’s not «дико» [wild] – I don’t know what is!

The instrumental case affects (or – even better in my opinion – ‘inflicts’) Russian masculine and neuter nouns in one and the same way: adding to their ending «-ом» (if the noun has a hard ending) and «-ем» or «-ём» (when the ending is soft). I’ll give you a couple of examples to illustrate this:

Neuter with a hard ending: «повидло» [jam, marmalade]:

«Я люблю пироги с повидЛОМ» – [I love pirogues with jam].

Masculine noun with a hard ending: «привет» [greeting; regard; remembrance; compliment]:

«Я пришёл к тебе с приветОМ…» – [I've come to you with a greeting... (the first famous lines from the poem with the same name by «Афанасий Афанасьевич Фет» [Afanasy Afanas'evich Fet])].

Masculine noun with a soft ending: «товарищ» [comrade]:

«Мы с товарищЕМ встречаемся часто» – [I and (my) comrade meet often].

«Что это?» [what is this?] This is «девушка с ружьём» [a girl with a gun]. «Ружьё» [gun, rifle] is a neuter noun with a soft ending.

Feminine nouns are also inflicted with just as much of a ‘heavy’ change in their endings because of the instrumental case. Female nouns with a hard ending receive «-ой» whereas those with soft get either «-ей» or «-ёй» or simply «ю» (the last goes for ALL abstract feminine nouns that end with «ость» and should be considered as kindness on behalf of this otherwise rather cruel case):

Feminine noun with a hard ending: «вода» [water]:

«У тебя есть бутылка с водОЙ?» – [Do you have a bottle of (lit. with) water?]

Feminine noun with a soft ending: «учительница» [teacher]:

«Я поговорил с твоей учительницЕЙ» – [I have spoken with your teacher].

Feminine noun with a soft ending: «земля» [earth; land; ground, dirt, soil; territory]:

«Что под землЁЙ?» – [What is under the (here) ground?]

Abstract feminine noun with a soft ending: «ответственность» [responsibility, accountability, liability; amenability; trust]:

«Необходимо относиться к этому с ответственностьЮ» – [It is necessary to refer to this with responsibility].

«Что это?» [what is this?] This is «дети с воздушными шариками» [children with balloons].

Now so far we’ve only discussed what happens to the three different kinds of Russian nouns in SINGULAR – «в единственном числе» - when they’re forced into the instrumental case. (Some of you diligent learners of Russian language might not think this case at all ‘wild’ or ‘cruel’ like I do, but you actually LIKE it – hey, whatever floats you boat!) The most interesting thing with the instrumental case is, however, what happens to the same nouns «во множественном числе» [in plural]. When we’re talking plural in Russian you don’t have to worry any longer about whether a noun is feminine or masculine or neuter. All plural nouns in Russian are affected (or – once again – inflicted) in the same way by the instrumental case. All you need to remember is whether the ending is hard or soft. If it is hard you add «-ами» to the ending of the word. If it’s soft, then you’ll add «-ями» instead. It is a little bit difficult for me to give you exact examples of this that have not only grammatically but also semantically correct structures, but I’ll give it a try. And you’ll see clearly that even NUMBERS in Russian are also affected by the cases!

Feminine noun with a soft ending: «спальня» (plural: «спальни») [bedroom]:

«У меня квартира с двумя спальЯМИ» – [I have an apartment with two bedrooms].

Masculine noun with a hard ending in singular: «брат» [brother], but SOFT ending in plural «братья» (are you taking notes? well, you should be!):

«Я видела его с тремя братьЯМИ» – [I saw him with three brothers].

Neuter noun with a hard ending: «место» (plural: «места») [place, location, position; standing, role, function]:

 «В поезде купе с четырями местАМИ» – [In the train there are compartments with four places].

In today’s post I’ve tried to focus solely on sentences in which the instrumental case comes after the preposition «с» [here: with]. Of course that’s not the limit of this case in Russian language – far from it! The instrumental case only goes truly ‘wild’ when it is used completely without any preposition whatsoever. But let’s save that grammatical moment for another day, shall we?

«Выходные в Вологде» [A Weekend in Vologda]

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Jan 19 2010

The famous and magnificently beautiful «Софийский собор» [Saint Sofia Cathedral] where Shalamov’s father, «Тихон Шаламов» [Tikhon Shalamov], worked as «православный священник» [an Orthodox priest] in «Вологда» [Vologda] in the early 20th century upon his return from missionary work in Alaska. Behind it you can sneak a preview of the house where Shalamov was born, which is now a museum…

Saying «Россия – большая страна» [Russia is a big country] would be an understatement of as great proportions as this country itself. I think it would be better to describe the Motherland as a «огромная страна» [huge country] or even better yet a «громадная страна» [enormous country]. Because Russia is so big and vast I have – naturally – not been able to visit most of it, even though I’ve been to more than twenty Russian cities. Most of the places I’ve managed to visit during my five plus years in this country – except for «Санкт-Петербург» [Saint Petersburg] and «Москва» [Moscow] – have been either «в Сибири» [in Siberia] or «на Урале» [in the Urals]. This is also natural, since I’ve spent most of my time in this country living in cities located in Siberia and in the Urals and thus traveling around ‘locally’ has always been the easiest for me. Up until the past weekend I hadn’t seen anything or been anywhere in the big and beautiful «европейская часть Российской федерации» [European part of the Russian Federation], something I have dreamed of doing for many years now. This past weekend I finally got to see more of this great country when I visited the beautiful city of «Вологда» [Vologda], located in «русский север» [the Russian north]. In order to get there all the way from «Екатеринбург» [Yekaterinburg] I first had to fly to Moscow, which takes about two hours, and then take the train north for another ten hours. Yes, that’s how BIG this country really is – so vast that one can travel for days and days and still remain within one and the same country, meeting people who speak one and the same language… The reason as to why I did this was to attend «вечер памяти» [a memorial evening] for my favorite writer Varlam Shalamov there on the 17th of January, the date of his death in 1982.

 The museum «Шаламовский дом» [Shalamov house] is located in the center of Vologda, not far from the bank of the river with the same name. Most of it is now «картинная галерея» [an art gallery], but two whole rooms on the first floor are dedicated only to the great Russian writer’s memory.

Those of you who have followed this blog for some time now probably know very well that this is far from the first time that I’ve mentioned the name of this splendid Russian 20th century poet here. If you’ve missed the previous posts on this subject, (in all of which I’ve tried my best not to go over the top with my borderline obsessive passion for him and his works) I would recommend you to take a quick look at such posts as A Great Russian Writer: «Варлам Шаламов» [Varlam Shalamov], «По уральским местам Варлама Шаламова» [Visiting Varlam Shalamov's Ural ‘Sites'] and “Listen While You Read, or -Read as You Listen”. This trip to Vologda was very special to me for two reasons: first of all because it was my first time in the town where he was born; secondly because I was given the opportunity to travel there not alone but as a part of a «дружеский коллектив» [friendly collective (group of people)] made up of me and seven other young Russians. With these young Russians I share the same fascination for Shalamov and they are all tightly connected with the splendid Russian site dedicated to him. How did I get this opportunity? you might be wondering. Well, this journey in fact began already in September with a correspondence with the website’s administrator, both concerning my own scholarly research on Shalamov (which soon will be published on the site) as well as a discussion of some comments left on this blog by him… One thing led to another and all of the sudden we were friendly enough to be «на ты» with each other. And when he told me sometime during the past fall that a group of people were going to Vologda in January 2010, I asked if I could tag along.

And of course there’s a «памятная доска» [memorial board] on the wall of the house where the poet was born. Written on it is the following: «В этом доме 18 (восемнадцатого) июня 1907 (тысяча девятьсот седьмого) года родился и жил до 1924 (тысяча девятьсот двадцать четвёртого) года великий русский писатель Варлам Тихонович Шаламов (1907-1982)» [In this house on the 18th of June 1907 was born and lived until 1924 the great Russian writer Varlam Tikhonovich Shalamov (1907-1982)].

After a day of walking around with him in the busy and chaotic Moscow, Vologda made the impression on me of being a very quiet and cozy provincial town (though this is not entirely true as the city has almost half a million inhabitants). The city center is highly picturesque, with plenty of old wooden buildings as well as many beautiful churches, and it was a pure pleasure to walk around there taking picture of everything. It was very cold during the weekend that I was there and thus the river Vologda was both frozen as well as covered with a heavy layer of glittering white snow. On and around the river Russians of all ages were enjoying their Saturday and Sunday off by skiing on or riding down the slopes. Looking out over this stunning winter landscape was almost like looking at a great painting…

Located across the street from the house where Shalamov’s family lived is «шаламовские горки» [‘Shalamov hills'], named not after Varlam but after his older brother Sergey. The hill is popular as a place for kids to slope down on in wintertime, something that we know Shalamov did often in childhood. And something that I have now also done… surviving the steep slope without breaking anything!

During my trip to Vologda I not only made friends with other young future Shalamov scholars, but also with the leading Russian scholar on his works «Валерий Васильевич Есипов» [Valery Vasil'evich Yesipov] who lives and works there. For me it was a great honor to meet him in person, to also be a guest in his house on Saturday, and to even be able to make more than a couple of toasts in vodka with him… On Sunday he gave our group a tour of the museum where he works, «музей “Вологодская ссылка”» [The Museum of Exile in Vologda], which was highly interesting. Many famous people in Russian history, including Stalin himself, have been exiled to this northern town during the centuries. On Sunday evening the event for which we had traveled all the way there for took place, and even I was asked to say a couple of words in front of the audience. The trip was finished in the usual grand Russian manner of endless hospitality – with plenty to eat and plenty to drink in a local little restaurant called «Погребник» [‘The Little Cellar'].

Another museum worth visiting while in Vologda is «музей “Вологодская ссылка”» [the museum of Exile in Vologda] located in a 19th century building known as  «дом Сталина» [the house of Stalin] for it was here that the future «отец народа» spent a month and a half renting a room during the winter of 1911-1912 before escaping.

But I think one of the absolute best parts of this trip was on the way back on the train when all eight of us sat together and read poetry by heart to each other… It was already late, the lights on the train had already been dimmed, and so as not to wake the other passengers we were almost whispering the poems one after the other… It was a truly wonderful experience. An experience that made me realize that in order to be able to play this game better in the future I must learn more Russian poetry by heart…

Word of the Week: «Возвращение» [Return]

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Jan 14 2010

Officially the project «мост любви» [bridge of love] was turned down by «правительство города Екатеринбург» [administration of the city of Yekaterinburg] a couple of years ago. But that project concerned another bridge (which can be seen far away in the background). The tradition to put a «замок» [lock] with your names and the date of your wedding (or engagement) is still strong among people in love in Yekat…

«Наконец!» [Finally!] «Я вернулась в Россию!» [I have returned to Russia!, or I'm back in Russia!]. And what better way to mark this return but to explore the word «возвращение» [return; giving back; repayment] as our word of this week? Not only because we haven’t had a ‘word of the week’ for a long, long time but also because this word comes closely connected with two interesting verbs: «возвращать» [to return, give back; to repay (a debt, loan, etc); to restore; to recover, regain; get back] and «возвращаться» [to return, come back, go back]. Both of these are «глаголы несовершенного вида» [imperfect verbs (lit. ‘verbs of the imperfect aspect')], and I’ll talk about how they look «в совершенном виде» [in perfect aspect] in a little moment, but let’s focus on the last one of them first: «возвращаться» [to return, come back, go back]. You probably noticed that the biggest difference between «возвращаться» and «возвращать» is that one of them ends on «ся». These two little letters are actually what used to be the pronoun «себя» [me; ourself, myself; ourselves; herself, himself; itself; themselves, yourself; yourselves] and is a sure indication of that this verb is a special kind of verb – a «возвратный глагол» [reflexive verb]. The adjective «возвратный» [return (attrib.); reflexive (gram.)], as you might have guessed already, shares a common «корень» [root] («возвра-») with our word of the week «возвращение» and is thus also concerned with things ‘coming back’, ‘returning’ or simply ‘reflexing’ something back to another thing. Another noun that sounds even closer to it this adjective is «возврат» [return; recurrence; repayment]. You’ll often come across this noun in stores in Russia used in the following phrase: «товар возврату не подлежит» [the merchandise is not liable to return, i.e. cannot be returned]. It feels good to finally have shared my knowledge of this kind of Russian store policy with the rest of the world! And this would, of course, mean that if you see a sign saying «товар возврату подлежит» then you can return what you’ve bought there and expect to get your money back. Might not sound important right now, but you just wait until it turns out that your new pair of «валенки» [pl. felt boots (worn in Siberia during winter)] does not match ANYTHING else that you’ve got in your closet and you realize that in the country where you live it doesn’t get down to minus 40 C that many days of the year anyway… 

How to best explain the Russian grammatical phenomenon of «возвратные глаголы» [pl. reflexive verbs]? If your native language lacks this, then it could be a little bit «трудно понять» [difficult (pfv.) to understand] at first. (I say that even though I was taught as a teacher never to ever tell a student that something was «трудно понять», but to use the adverb «интересно» [interestingly] instead.) The main difference between verbs that are reflexive and verbs that are not is that reflexive verbs don’t always need to be followed by an object. This is because the tiny «ся» at the end of them already indicates that the object and the subject are one and the same. Thus when you’re using a reflexive verb you are ‘reflexing’ the action of the sentence back to yourself. Does that make sense? When using the imperfect «возвращать» in the meaning of ‘to return’ the question that follows is it «что?» [what?] as in this example:

«Она всегда возвращает деньги вовремя» – [She always repays money in time].

The object in this sentence – the «что» so to speak – is «деньги» [pl. money]. The same goes for when you’re using the perfect aspect of this verb which is «вернуть» in the context of ‘to return’. But this object doesn’t always have to be direct one, it could also be an indirect object and answer the question «кому?» [to whom?]:

«Он вернул мне учебник по астрономии» – [He returned the textbook on astronomy to me].

But with the reflexive verbs «возвращаться» (impfv.) [to return, to come back, be back] and «вернуться» (pfv.) [to return, to be back, make back; cut back; retrace one's steps]  you don’t always need an object – be it direct or indirect! That’s because the subject is enough to make the action described by these words understandable. Let’s have a look at two examples, in which all of the words following the verb are just descriptions of time or place:

«Он возращается поздно вечером после работы» – [He returns late in the evening after work (usually, if not always since here you have this verb in imperfect aspect)].

«Она вернулась на Урал» – [She came back to the Urals].

The last sentence can also be translated as ‘she’s back IN the Urals’. Then it does not indicate any motion in any direction whatsoever in translation, as is always the case with this verb in Russian. That’s why it is very important that you remember to always ask yourself «куда?» [to where?] after using the verbs «вернуться» and «возвращаться». Even though you’ll often be tempted to ask «где?» and then use the completely wrong case (I won’t even tell you which case is the ‘completely wrong’ one because I don’t want you to know enough to make this mistake!).

Don’t you think it looks like Lenin’s arm is waving back at me and saying: «С возвращением!» [(Congratulations on your) return!]. Here he’s standing in downtown Yekat squeezed in-between a brand new «торговый центр» [shopping mall] and the seasonal recreational «льдяной парк» [ice park].

P.S. Don’t despair because of what I said above if you’ve recently bought yourself a pair of «валенки» [pl. felt boots]! I bought a black pair of those myself back in the winter of 2005/2006 and I can assure you that they look awesome paired with a black miniskirt!

«Отдыхают все!» [Everybody’s on Holiday!]

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Jan 9 2010

At least «в России» [in Russia] and at least «до 10 (десятого) января» [until the 10th of January] it is true that «все отдыхают» [everybody's on holiday]. Even though there was much talk in 2009 about finally abolishing those ten days that every Russian gets off in the beginning of every year «из-за экономического кризиса» [due to the economic crisis], nothing has yet changed. This means that the traditional treat to the Russian people (but not necessarily such a delight for the Russian economy) remains and is still known by most as «пьяная неделя» [‘the drunken week']. At this time of the year in Russia it’s not business as usual but one big, long «отдых» [rest, repose, relaxation; recreation; refreshment; comfort] for everyone. At least «до понедельника» [until Monday] anyway… But what to do with all this «свободное время» [free time]? many Russians find themselves wondering somewhere in between all the official holidays that need to be properly celebrated with family and friends during these days. Obviously the 1st of January is largely taken up by tending to one’s «похмелье» [hangover], and just as obvious is it for «русские православные христиане» [Russian Orthodox Christians] that the 7th of January will be devoted to celebrating «Рождество Христово» [Christmas]. That’s «два дня» [two days]. Let’s say you’ll also need one day to prepare for Orthodox Christmas. But this still means that you only keep yourself busy for «три дня» [three days] out of ten… «Что делать?» [What to do?] Well, how about simply using this time to «отдыхать» [repose, rest, relax; (be on) holiday, vacation]? Once you’ve reached the conclusion that you agree with the usage of this verb in this context, then suddenly another question arises: «как отдыхать?» [how to repose, rest, relax; (be on) holiday, vacation?] Let’s have a look…

 

Why not do like «Медведев и Путин» [Medvedev and Putin] did during the first days in January and «кататься на лыжах» [go skiing]? After all, it is «зима» [winter] and most of Russia is covered in snow, though not especially hilly in many areas… This type of «отдых» [rest, repose, relaxation; recreation; refreshment; comfort] is known as «активный» [energetic, dynamic, active] in Russia.

Here you have another type of «отдых». This kind of ‘rest’ is easy to recreate in the privacy of your own home because all you need is to «собрать друзей» [gather together friends] and «накрыть стол» [set the table]. Then everything is ready for you to «проводить время в весёлой компании» [spend time in a cheerful company] and – hopefully – «поговорить по душам» [have a genuine and sincere talk] with someone… Because everybody knows nothing helps you relax as much as interacting with other people!

In Russian language (almost) each and every verb has both an imperfect ‘version’ and a perfect ‘version’. In Russian this is not known as ‘version’ at all, but properly named «вид» [aspect]. All Russian verbs (almost) have both «несовершенный вид» [imperfect aspect] and «совершенный вид» [perfect aspect]. The verb we’re talking about today is «отдыхать» in imperfect aspect and «отдохнуть» in perfect aspect. And the most correct way to «отдыхать» [repose, rest, relax] should eventually lead to a need to use the perfect «отдохнуть» instead, since if not, then no real «результат» [result, effect, outcome, consequence] has been reached. Generally speaking, the perfect aspect is always about results, whereas imperfect focuses more on «процесс» [process; operation; cause; act]. You can say something like «я отдыхал у родителей» [I rested with my parents (or: I spent my vacation at my parents' house)] first and then explain further by commenting «из-за моей мамы я не мог отдохнуть» [because of my mother I couldn't unwind (completely)]. If you go somewhere on holiday every year, then the verb you’ll want to use to express this is imperfect: «Каждым летом мы отдыхаем в Сочи» [Every summer we spend the holiday in Sochi]. But if you’re really tired and stressed and feel like you just need to take a day to yourself then you’ll want to make use of the perfect aspect instead: «Мне надо отдохнуть!» [I need to rest, repose; unwind, relax!]

A third way – and very funny way – to use all of this «отдых» is to watch something good, be it a movie or a show, in the movies, on TV or on youtube. Why not have a look at animated «Медведев и Путин» [Medvedev and Putin] sing and dance into 2010? What do you think?

Next week it’ll be «назад на работу» [back to work] for Russians, and for me not only «назад в учёбу» [back to school] but also «назад в Россию» [back to Russia]. Yes, I’m excited!

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