Posts under The Russian Emotion

In Russia Snow Walks…

Posted by Josefina

A couple of days ago - I think it was «в среду» [on Wednesday] - we received our first snow here in Yekaterinburg: «выпал первый снег» [the first snow fell (down)]. On Wednesday, however, I had the bad luck to be feeling a bit under the weather - in Russian «я захворала» [I got ill; this perfect colloquial verb «захворать» means ‘to be taken ill' or ‘(with instrumental case) to come down with (something)']. Because of this I was unable to catch «первый снег этой зимы» [this winter's first snow] on camera and when this snow melted away in just a few days I felt very sorry for myself due to this, since I badly wanted to write a post about it here and as always attach some current photographs «из современной России» [from modern Russia]. Then I thought about the fact that this is «моя шестая русская зима» [my sixth Russian winter] and that I have plenty of pictures of snow from the five previous Russian winters that I have experienced in this country. And as I went through my archive of photographs on my «съёмный диск» [external hard drive] I was reassured that it is indeed so. But there’s always something special with the first snow. Every year it falls as if for the very first time. There’s something exceptional about those first fragile white snowflakes that makes us feel and act like children again. And this ‘something’ makes us smile as we look out the window and instantly feel an urge to put on our heaviest clothing and go out and try to catch one on the tip of our tongues… In my mind and in my memories Russia will always be dressed in snow. For the most obvious of reasons, when I look back and think of Russia I always see this country as a white wonderland where the skies are clear and blue, where the sun shines over glittering «сугробы» [snowdrifts] along endless Siberian highways… I know that most people who have never ever been to Russia - I know because they have told this me many, many times - think of this country as looking exactly like that «круглый год» [all year around]. But we who have been here, we who have lived here, know that this is not the case. But we also know that winter is best in Russia, don’t we?

And here we are again! Tomorrow it is already «первый день ноября» [the first day of November] and that means that «осень» [fall] has officially ended and that it is time for «зима» [winter] - «русская зима» [Russian winter] - to take over with full force! When the first snow came down on us this week, I looked out the window and then turned to my Korean roommate and said: «Снег идёт!» [It's snowing!] Only after a while, as I watched the snowflakes tumbling around in the air outside, did it occur to me that the verb «идти» [impf., verb of motion used for movement in a particular direction: to go; to walk; to come; to come out; to follow] was no where near a correct one to use when describing the way the snow was moving.

 «Снег идёт» [It is snowing] somewhere on a Russian railroad.

Thus yesterday I asked one of my Russian friends who is a Master’s student of «русский язык» [Russian language] this important question: «Почему снег именно ИДЁТ в русском языке? Почему он не ходит?» ["Why is it that snow in Russian language walks? Why doesn't it go around (without any particular direction)?"] «Ходить» is the indetermened variant of the verb of motion «идти», it indicates a movement there AND back again and means ‘to walk, to be able to walk; to run, to operate; to be going around’. She understood my confusion, but - «увы [alas!] - could not give me any answer other than that it, of course, would make more sense to describe snow coming down from the sky with another verb completely. The thing is that Russian language lacks such a thing as «снеговать» or even «снегить» [I made up both of these verbs; do not make a note of them!] as apart from, for example, my native language (Swedish!), and thus must use what it’s got. What does it have then? What else can we say when we see snow outside our windows but don’t really think ‘it’s walking’ but doing something different entirely? Let’s have a look!

«падать» impfv.: to fall; to crash; to decline, go down, fall.

«Снег падает» - [Snow is falling].

And from this combination of noun and verb you can make another noun in Russian that describes this exactly: «снегопад» [snowfall].

«Выпадать» is impfv. and «выпасть» is pfv.: to fall out; (of snow, rain, etc) to fall; to turn out to be; to fall to, to befall.

«Снег выпал ночью» - [The snow fell at night (in the night, during the night)].

«вьюжить» is a verb that I have only heard from Russians but can’t find in the dictionary, though it is clear that it is made from the noun «вьюга» meaning ‘snowstorm; blizzard’. I’m not sure if this could be combined with «снег» in such a sentence as «снег вьюжит» [‘snow is storming' or ‘it's snowstorming']. Perhaps one should be content with just saying «вьюжит» [‘there's a snowstorm/blizzard going on'].

The same goes for the verb «метелить» made from the noun «метель» (fem.) [snowstorm; blizzard]. I always have a hunch here that you can’t say «снег метелит» but must go for a construction like «на улице метелит» [‘there's a blizzard outside'] instead.

But since the most common verb used «со снегом» [with snow] in Russian is after all «идти» let’s have a look at how to make use of «совершенный вид этого глагола» [the perfect aspect of this verb] - «пойти» [to begin to walk, to set out; to start moving; (of snow, rain, etc) to begin to fall]:

«Скоро пойдёт снег» - [Snow will soon begin to fall].

«Вот и снег пошёл!» - [And so snow has begun to fall!]

Yet on this photograph we have snow without any motion at all! Here «снег лежит» [snow is lying]…

 

It’s That Time of the Year Again: «Сезон гриппа» [Flu Season]

Posted by Josefina

And then it’s that time of the year again - «осень» [fall], which equals «сезон гриппа» [flu season] in all countries located in the more northern part of this our splendid globe. The object of our common affection - «Россия» [Russia], officially known as «Российская федерация» [Russian Federation], or why not call it old-school by «Русь» [Rus'], or perhaps keeping it not-so-short and but-oh-so-sweet with the words «территория бывшего Советского союза» [the territory of the former Soviet Union] - is just such a country. A country located «на севере» [in the north]. This year, «этой осенью» [this fall] we «северяне» [northerners; plural form of: «северянин»] have a new flu to be worried about, the so-called «свиний грипп» [swine flu]. In an effort to illustrate how this new threat to public health is dealt with «в русской провинции» [in the Russian province] I will post «два объявления» [two notifications] on the blog today that I’ve photographed in the Russian reality around me.

«Грипп снова диктует вам моду?» [Is the flu telling you (lit. dictating) what to wear (lit. fashion) once again?] «Прививка - лучшее средство для борьбы с гриппом!» [Vaccination - the best way to fight (lit. for a fight) the flu (lit. with the flu)!].

Here we find the interesting verb «диктовать» [impf.: dictate] Perhaps you can see that it shares a common root with the noun «диктатор» [dictator]? And how to use this verb, you might wonder? Well, have a look at this:

You should combine the verb «диктовать» with an indirect subject in dative: «кому?» [lit. to whom?] and the direct object in accusative: «что?» [what?]. Here’s an example of what a sentence might end up looking like:

«Он всегда диктует мне как жить» - [lit. He's always dictating me how to live, though a better translation would be: ‘He's always telling me how to live'.]

«Внимание» [Attention]. «Убедительная просьба всем проживающим в общежитии, не желающим прививаться против гриппа, написать отказ на имя ректора в свободной форме и сдать оный заведующей общежитием» [A persuasive request for all those living in the dormitory who do not wish to take the vaccine against the flu to write a refusal to the principle in free form and give it to the manager of the dormitory].

The note above I found hanging on the wall next to the elevator on the first floor in the dormitory where I live yesterday. I didn’t know that all people at our university have to «прививаться» [refl. impfv.: (of a vaccine) to take] against the new «свиний грипп» [swine flu]. Today I read that «Вакциной от нового вида гриппа будет привить каждый третий житель России» ["Every third inhabitant in Russia will be vaccinated against the new type of flu"]. I hope they won’t include foreigners though! I’m very afraid of needles. I think I just might have to sit down and write one of those «отказ на имя ректора в свободной форме» [a refusal to the principle in free form] and try to explain my enormous fear of everything having to do with hospitals in general… You could also make of note of the rare use of the pronoun «оный» which is old and used very rarely in modern Russian. It means «тот» [that] and «тот самый» [the same] and is made from pronoun «он» [he; it].

New words today - and excellent words to use this season - are as follows:

«грипп» - [flu].

«прививка» - [graft; vaccination, inoculation; jab].

«вакцина» - [vaccine; animal lymph].

But don’t get me wrong - «я же желаю вам всем здоровья!» [I really wish all of you health!] 

 

«Возвращение!» [The Return!]

Posted by Josefina

Today’s post is long overdue. «Я знаю!» [I know!] It’s been almost a week since the last post. «Простите меня [Forgive (pl.) me!] But there’s a reason for the delay - or, many reasons even! «Будьте снисходительны!» [Be (pl.) permissive; pardoning; forgiving!] Today’s post is named «возвращение» [return] but it won’t be about the splendid movie «Возвращение» ["The Return"] by contemporary Russian movie director «Андрей Петрович Звягинцев» [Andrey Petrovich Zvyagintsev] - though I highly recommend you watch this movie in the original Russian (with subtitles if you can find it) - but about another «возвращение» [return]: «моё возвращение в Россию» [my return to Russia]. «Моё возвращение на Урал» [my return to the Urals] took place on Sunday evening, and since it’s already Thursday you might be wondering what I’ve been doing during the past four days? Since I’ve evidently been far too busy to blog about grammar and the like? Well, as always «моё ежегодное возвращение в Екатеринбург» [my annual return to Yekaterinburg] means dealing with a lot of stuff, mainly collecting «разные справки» [different ‘documents' - the magical Russian word «справка» means ‘reference; enquiry' in English but exists in Russian reality in the form of a small piece of paper that proves something or other about your person and is authorized by an official stamp and an accompanying signature]. Life in Russia demands a wide and assorted array of different «справки»! First of all I had to gather together a small collection of «медицинские справки» [medical 'documents'] in order to be allowed to live in the university’s «общежитие» [dormitory; hostel]. Most of you readers are already - I think - aware of the rule of having to obtain a negative HIV-test before applying for a visa to the Russian Federation. Well, actually you have to prove you’re even healthier than that once you arrive in the country - at least if you’re going to be living in a «студенческое общежитие» [student dormitory]. You have to а) «сделать флюориографию» [do fluorography (i.e. make sure your lungs are free from tuberculosis)]; and б) «пройти санпропускник» [pass a sanitary check-up (i.e. make sure your hair is free from lice)]. If you’re not sure what Russian «справки» might look like, check out my impressive collection below:

«Справка» - «существительное женского рода» [is a feminine noun] and that’s why it changes into «много справОК» when put in the case that we all love and know as GENITIVE PLURAL - meaning that they’re ‘many’. If you don’t have one then you have to say: «У меня нет справкИ». But thankfully - as you can probably tell by the picture above - I didn’t have that problem this week when I officially reclaimed my room in the dormitory for yet another year to come. My favorite is the one with the x-ray of my lungs… looking good, «не правда ли?» [is it not true (or: don't you think so)?]

Now the picture above is all that remains of these «справки». I had to hand them over to the «заведующая общежитием» [manager (fem.) of the dormitory] order to receive my new «пропуск» [pass] and be allowed to come and go here as I’d like for the next academic year.

 Generally speaking, I’m very excited to be back in Russia! Even though this is my sixth year in Russia - «мой шестой год в России» - and I should be getting tired of this country by now, I am not. Not at all! There’s always something left to explore here, and that’s one of the reasons why «я так люблю эту страну» [I love this country so]! Russia is always a surprise, sometimes not-so-pleasant, but most of the time very pleasant indeed. And one can never learn everything there is to know about Russia, not to mention everything there is to say in Russian! On Monday afternoon, as I walked the streets of Yekaterinburg for the first time in more than a month and a half, I couldn’t stop smiling. It feels good to be back. And I hope that my return to Russia will mean more inspired as well as more frequent blogging! The summer is always a slow time, but I have lots of new ideas that I would like to try on the blog this fall. I am hoping to be able to give you tips on Russian movies to watch (see the title of this post for where to begin if you feel like getting a head start). I thought we’d mix Soviet classics with contemporary Russian movies, and that I would only recommend the movies I’m sure you can get a hold on out there in the world. «Как вы думаете, это хорошая идея?» [What do you think, is it a good idea?] I’m usually not a movie person, but this summer I happened to watch the Soviet classic «Влюблён по собственному желанию» [‘In Love out of Free Will'] from 1983 and fell completely in love with it! Out of free will, by the way!

As a way of preparing myself for this fall’s new classes «в магистратуре» [in the Master's program] I bought «очень патриотические тетради» [very patriotic notebooks]… they only had three different ones and so I had to buy two with the red Kremlin on them. And that’s okay even though my personal favorite is the one with the big Russian flag…

 

Breaking Russian News: «Авось» Goes International!

Posted by Josefina

Remember the post «Авось!» or a really Russian Expression” in which I decided to try if «авось» [perhaps; possibly; maybe] works also outside of Russia? In the post I posed the following question: Can one say «авось повезёт» [maybe (I'll) get lucky; perhaps (I'll) have some luck] a day or two before taking the TOEFL test outside of Russia - in my case: «в Стокгольме, столице Швеции» [in Stockholm, the capital of Sweden] - instead of preparing during several months in advance for the test «от которого зависит всё твоё будудщее» [on which your entire future depends]? And «сдать» [pass] it? I didn’t just pose this question - I actually tried it «в действительности» [in reality]. On myself and my own future. And guess what, «дамы и господа» [ladies and gentlemen]? It works, it really works! Now all of you - from the most frail beginners to almost fluent speakers of Russian language - all of the world’s lovers of «русская речь» [Russian speech] that are still just friends with «русская грамматика» [Russian grammar] can use this «исконная русская фраза» [original Russian phase], this «традиционное русское выражение» [traditional Russian expression] in their every day life «вне Российской федерации» [outside of the Russian Federation]. I scored 107 out of 120 on the TOEFL test (my university of preference in the USA asks only more than 68 - but let’s not spoil things with talking about what’ll happen only «через ещё годик в России» [after yet another (little) year in Russia]…). Some of the readers of this blog might argue - and most correctly, too - that it wasn’t really the Russian «авось» which helped me in only making 13 points worth of mistakes, but the fact that I’m almost fluent in English. «Может быть, вполне может быть» [maybe, quite (possibly) maybe] is what I say to them as I add this: But who can exclude a little help of «авось» in a one-time case as this one? What we need to make a firm conclusion is a «широкий статистичексий фундамент» [broad statistical foundation] - anyone out there willing to try «авось» in their own lives?

«Авось и на самом деле всем вам повезёт!» - [Perhaps all of you'll really get lucky!]

Today I thought we’d continue to talk about luck; or more specifically: «русское везение» [Russian luck]. You might be seeing this Russian word for ‘luck’ for the very first time - «везение» [luck; good fortune], whereas you’ve both read, heard and pronounced the word «удача» [luck; success; fortune; stroke of good luck; good innings] many times before. This is the word most commonly used when wishing each other ‘good luck’ in Russian: «Удачи!» [note that when wishing someone something in Russian you always put what you're wishing them in GENITIVE - thus turning «удача» into «удачи» - don't forget!]. But is it worth knowing also «везение» as it comes from the verb «везти» which is used in the expression «везёт кому-нибудь» [someone is lucky; someone has luck]. And since people - even Russians - tend to get lucky from time to time, it is an expression that can come in handy ever so often. The verb «везти» is one of those extremely interesting «глаголы движения» [verbs of motion], and being as such it is imperfect and only in ONE DIRECTION (for movements in many directions this verb has a close friend: «возить»). «Везти» can be translated into English - apart from into ‘to have luck’ - as ‘to wheel; carry; tote; trundle’. When used to tell of someone having luck the following is important to know: 1) always put this verb in THIRD PERSON SINGULAR, i.e. «оно»: thus present tense «везёт» turns into past tense as «повезло»; 2) the sentence’s SUBJECT should always be in DATIVE, for example: «тебе везёт» [you have luck], «мне не везёт» [I don't have any luck] and «им повезло» [they were lucky; had luck]. Using dative is a very smart and subconscious Russian way of taking away all personal responsibility from the subject of the sentence, which means that to have luck in Russian (or why not say ‘to have Russian luck’?) doesn’t really have anything to do with actions you may or may not have taken. And isn’t that really what luck is all about?

Let’s take a look at two pictures as we try to understand this expression even better:

«Утром в Новосибирске нам повезло с погодой - “мороз и солнце, день чудесный″ - прямо как из стихотворения Александра Сергеевича Пушкина[In Novosibirsk we were lucky with the weather - ‘frost and sun, what a fantastic day' - just like in the poem by Alexandr Sergeyevich Pushkin!]

«А после обеда в том же Новосибирске нашему везению с погодой пришёл конец, и начался сильный снегопад…» [But after lunch in the very same Novosibirsk our luck with the weather came to an end and a forceful snowfall began...] 

 

It’s all about the Learning Process!

Posted by Josefina

Always when I’m back home in Sweden and thus living outside of Russia, one and the same question is constantly on my mind: «Как изучать русский язык вне Российской федерации?» [How to study (learn; read; explore) Russian language outside of the Russian Federation?] The main point within this simple question could also be posed in many other ways, like for example: «Как учить русский язык вне России?» [How to learn Russian language outside of Russia?] or - this one is for the truly ambitious - «Как выучить русский язык, не будучи в России?» [How to learn (this perfect verb means that you reach a certain result, in languages it is almost synonym to becoming fluent) Russian language, not being in Russia?]. All of the questions above center on the largest problem for all people trying to learn a language without living in a country where it is spoken. If wake up one morning and find yourself living in «Петрозаводск» [Petrozavodsk], for example, you’re bound to be surrounded by it constantly and sooner or later forced to speak it - even if you’d rather not because «тебе стыдно за твой акцент» [you're ashamed of your accent]. Learning Russian language if you are living, like I am right now as I’m writing this post, in a small red house somewhere deep in the Swedish woods without any Russians around to speak to for miles and miles - «это немножечко потрудней» [it's a wee bit more difficult]. That, however, doesn’t mean that it can’t be done! It just takes a little longer and more effort.

The question is, if you’re living far away from Russia but still feel that in your soul you have a burning desire to learn this language, what to do? «С чего начать?» [With what to begin?] For a start you could surround yourself with Russian language on a day-to-day basis. It can be very basic, simple things - but still, Russian in front of your eyes every day many times. «Как это сделать?» [How to do that?] I’ll tell you what I did once long before I moved to Russia and used to spend the summers in my mother’s little red house in the Swedish woods. (This is where I am right now, that’s where this idea came from to begin with…) My mother gave our little place in the sun a name - in Swedish, of course - “Sjöglimt”. This could be translated into English as “A Gleam of Lake” or “Lake Twinkle” or whatever one would like if one really had to translate this ironic name into English (it is situated right on a lake, thus being far from just a ‘gleam’ or a ‘twinkle’ of water). But what would it be in Russian? I decided to try and translate the name into Russian and paint a sign saying - in both Swedish AND Russian - “Welcome to Lake Twinkle”. This sign would greet visitors approaching the house, as well as cause unwanted ones to back off since any message written in thick Cyrillic letters out in the middle of nowhere can’t be good news… So that’s what I set out to do. And here is where it gets interesting!

 This was sign #1: «Привет ко озеро взгляд» [‘Hello to Sea Glance']. I made this sign during the summer of 2004, using only my dictionary and some common sense. How many grammatical mistakes can you make out? I think all of it clearly shows that at this point in my life - after only WANTING to learn Russian for about a year, but not really having started to study it - I did not know Russian at all.

This is sign #2: «Добро пожаловать на “Озёрный взгляд”» [‘Welcome to "Laky View" (Lacustrine; penetrating to lakes)"]. I made this sign during the summer of 2006, using everything I had learned during two years in Russia. Here you finally have the real Russian welcome - «добро пожаловать» combined as it should be with the preposition «на» [here it means ‘to'] because the question we must ask ourselves is: «куда?» [whither; to where?]. And the case that answers this question is of course «винительный падеж» [accusative]. (More about this case’s prepositions in a post to be written in a not-so-distant future). One can still have all sorts of opinions about the name «Озёрный взгляд» and how strange it may sound in Russian, but at least it is written within quotation marks - just like on the sign of any good old Soviet/Russian «санаторий» [sanatorium; convalescent center] or  «дом отдыха» [‘House of Rest'].

So what am I suggesting you should do? Go home to your poor mother’s «дача» [summer house], pick a name for it, translate it into Russian and paint it with big, thick Cyrillic letters on a sign to scare of the neighbors? (Or just get them talking - maybe both!) You could do that. Or you could write what different things in your home are called on post-it notes in Russian and then put them on the specific items. Whenever you use something, like «холодилник» [the fridge], you’ll see this word and you can even repeat it out loud. Or try to find out what different actions are called in Russian and say them when you’re doing them.

Like for example what I’m doing when I’ve been out rowing my boat the last couple of days: «грести, грести, грести…» [to row, to row, to row...]. It is really all about the learning process! And about the importance of making mistakes and then learning from them: «На ошибках учимся!»