Posts tagged with "strange russian expressions"

Do you know that in Russia the expression “birthday suit” translates as «костюм Адама»  if talking about a male and «костюм Евы» if talking about a woman. But «фиговый листок» means exactly the same thing, a fig leaf, in its proverbial sense. Just be careful with the stress or you end up saying “worthless leaf” which, come to think of it, is exactly what this proverbial leaf was.

I know, I know, I am expected to write a post about Russian curse words. I do have a couple of really good excuses for not having it ready just yet. But it is in the works. In the mean time, consider this an introduction into the world of Russian words not usually found in textbooks.

The words «фиг» and «фига», in their meaning of “the bird” aka “the highway salute” aka “the finger” aka “f***k off” gave rise to countless words and expressions that are, in themselves, a study in the richness, complexity and flexibility of the Russian language.

At a glance these words seem to be related to a fig tree. If that was the case, «фиговое дерево» [fig tree], and not birch, would be a Russian national tree (on the basis of linguistic influence). However, it doesn’t seem to be related to the words I’m going to talk about. Besides, «фиговое дерево» is not even the most popular translation. Instead, it is «инжир» or «смоква». Note the stress is on the first vowel. But more on this in just a little bit.

As for the «показать фигу» [to flip a finger] gesture, it’s not done using just the middle finger. Instead, the whole hand is made into a fist with the thumb tucked in between the pointing finger and the middle finger. Would it surprise you to learn that this gesture has more than one name – «фига», «кукиш», «дуля», and «шиш».

The expression «фиг тебе» really means “you won’t get anything from me”. So it’s not nearly as obscene as “f***k off” translation that it sometimes gets. The gesture and the words, although not nice, are mild enough to be used even by women and children such as in phrases:

«Смотришь в книгу, видишь фигу» [Looking at the book and seeing nothing] – an expression favored by teachers and mothers.

«Фигу тебе с маслом!» [lit. You get a nothing with butter on it] – innocent enough that elementary school-aged children use it freely.

«Иди на фиг!» [Go to hell!] – acceptable even around youngsters, although not exactly the best way to handle things.

But let’s move on from the basics to some more advanced words. One of the most useful words in Russian language is «фигня» which can mean a nothing, a trifle, nonsense, stuff and a range of other things.

An amusing article with a title «Фигня как социальное явление» [Фигня as a social phenomenon] classifies «фигня» into two broad categories of «абстрактная» [here: transcendental] and «конкретная» [specific].

So basically, you can use this one word to describe pretty much everything going on around you or with you. In fact, have you ever read a book “Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff – and it’s all small stuff”? I think, if it ever were to print in Russian, a perfect title would be «Не страдай фигнёй; а кстати, всё – фигня».

This brings us to two popular phrases in the “verb + «фигня»” format:

«Страдать фигнёй» also «маяться фигнёй» also «заниматься фигнёй» – to waste time doing something or obsessing over something that’s small, meaningless, useless, etc. Also, to procrastinate as in «С понедельника перестаю страдать фигнёй и начинаю искать работу» [On Monday, I will stop procrastinating and will start looking for a job]

«Пороть фигню» – to talk nonsense as in «От стеснения он сбился с мысли и начал пороть фигню» [He felt so ill at ease, that he lost his thought and started talking nonsense]

But let’s move on to bigger and more complicated words. The noun «фигня» can be used to create all sorts of fantastic and highly useful words, such as

«Фиговина» [a thing, an object] – if you find yourself in an informal setting and desperate to remember a Russian word for some (any) object, you can use this word instead. For example, «Саша, ты вчера эту фиговину искал?» [Sasha, were you looking for this thing yesterday?]

«Фиговый» [worthless, rotten] – stress is the key here. When «и» is stressed, the adjective has a meaning of “of a fig tree”. When «о» is stressed, the meaning changes dramatically – «фиговая жизнь» [lousy life], «фиговое качество» [poor quality], «фиговый помошник» [worthless helper].

«Офигеть» [to flip over, to freak] – this verb can also be used as an exclamation. The emotions covered by «офигеть» can be either positive or negative.

  • «Я офигел, когда официантка принесла счёт» [I freaked out when the waitress brought over the check].
  • «Концерт был – офигеть!» [The show was awesome!]
  • «Офигеть как холодно!» [It’s freakishly cold!]

«Офигенный» [unbelievable] – do not confuse with «фиговый» (bad) since «офигенный» is usually a good thing, except when it’s not.

  • «Концерт был просто офигенный» [The show was simply unbelievable].
  • «За билетами на концерт была офигенная очередь» [The line for the tickets to the show was unbelievable]

Пофиг» also «пофигу» [screw it] – when you just don’t care about something. For example, «мне обычно эти концерты вообще пофигу» [usually I don’t care a bit about these shows].

«Пофигист» – if you are a laid-back person who doesn’t really care about too many things or doesn’t react strongly to much; if you tend to say “screw it” and “whatever” to pretty much whatever, this is a good descriptive for you.

«Фигово» [crappy] – oh, this can be used in so many ways to describe conditions of various objects, as in «сделано фигово» [of inferior workmanship] and persons, i.e. «на душе фигово» [feeling blue] as well as global phenomena «на Ближнем Востоке сейчас фигово, что и говорить» [it goes without saying, the situation in the Middle East is discouraging].

How socially appropriate are these words and phrases? They are inoffensive (usually) in informal conversations with people you know well. However, keep in mind that «фигня» is really a euphemism for a much stronger-flavored word familiar to Russians «от мала до велика» [young and old], the one that is not fit to print or say «в приличном обществе» [in a polite company].

Warning: This is a very long post and the winner is announced at the very end of it. If you’re wondering “who is this on the picture”, the answer is somewhere in the middle of the post.

«Время подводить итоги конкурса» [It’s time to wrap up our contest].

Before I announce «победитель» [the winner], I got to say this – Russian blog readers ROCK! The total of 83 comments is a new record for this blog. But as I wrote before, this is one of the situations when «качество» [quality] means more than «количество» [quantity].

«Огромное спасибо» [Huge thanks] to Rob, Minority, and Delia for fielding the questions and offering help with grammar, translation and additional research. Richard, thank you for your most interesting questions, especially about the word «пошлость» [vulgarity or kitsch].

Overall, the comments confirm my belief that this is a blog where comments oftentimes provide more valuable information on the topic than the posts themselves.

One of the contributors, Stephanie, added a wonderful saying «повторение – мать учения» [repetition is the mother of learning]. It is a very popular one, so let’s roll with it. I’d like to quickly review some of the entries and add my own «три копейки» [two cents-worth; lit. three kopeks] to them.

JT’s entry: «Всё идёт по плану» [All is going according to the plan]

«План» in Russian usually means “plan”, “draft”, or “plot”. It can also mean a “topographic map”. Curiously, it also means «анаша» [hashish].

Mark’s entry: «Говорят, что кур доят» [Don’t believe everything you hear; lit. Some say chickens can be milked]

One of «самые вкусные» [tastiest] of Russian candies are called «Птичье молоко» [lit. Birds’ Milk]. You can usually find them in the Russian stores in the US, although they lose much of their “melt-in-your-mouth softness” after the lengthy transport and storage.

Richard’s entry: «Я не я, и лошадь не моя» [I didn’t do it! Lit: I’m not myself and the horse isn’t mine]

This one made me smile as I haven’t heard it much after moving to the US! There’s a particular word that comes to mind when I hear this phrase – «отнекиваться». Typically translated as “to say no” or “to disavow” it loses some of its linguistic charisma, just like another wonderful word – «поддакивать» [to say yes].

Alison’s entry: «любовь – не картошка» [love is not a potato]

Ok, this sounds cryptic, but there’s a second part of the saying: «любовь – не картошка, не выкинешь в окошко» [love is not a potato; it can’t be thrown out of the window]. So true! After all, «любовь зла, полюбишь и козла» [love is cruel]. Another weird love and gardening saying is «прошла любовь, завяли помидоры» [love ended, tomatoes wilted].

Delia’s entry: «подложить свинью» [to play a dirty trick or to cause a major inconvenience; lit. to lay a pig near someone]

If you are wondering why pigs were singled out for the purpose of lying near someone, it’s because pigs, in Russia, are usually associated with «нечистоплотность» [impurity, frequently of thoughts or intentions]. Sounds interesting? Then find out more in this post about different animals in Russian sayings.

Simon’s entry: «Нет худа без добра» [every cloud has a silver lining]

The well-known corollary of this is «нет добра без худа» [good luck brings bad luck]. One of the traits that foreigners notice in Russians is a certain measure of fatalism. Another saying that goes with it is «в каждой бочке мёда есть ложка дёгтя» [every barrel-full of honey has a spoon-full of tar].

Drew’s entry: «Кто,кто? Конь в пальто» [Who? Who? A horse in a coat!]

Thanks, Drew, for reminding me of this saying! I wish there was something as universal in English to slow the barrage of the “Knock-knock. Who’s there?” jokes. Sometimes the mythical «дед Пихто» [Grandfather Pikhto] is substituted for the proverbial horse. There’s much speculation as to who this Grandfather Pikhto is, but some say that he’s a spirit of the «тайга» [boreal forests] which are abundant with «пихты» [fir trees]. As to the horse in a coat, it’s popular enough that there’s a statue of it in the town of Sochi.

Olia’s entry: «Словами сыт не будешь» [One can’t live on words alone]

Thank you, Olia, for this entry. It goes particularly well with the giveaway theme. Although matreshkas aren’t particularly nourishing either. Another good phrase along the same lines is «кормить обещаниями» [to feed with promises] and a corresponding «обещаниями сыт по горло» [fed up with promises].

Rob’s entry: «Россия – родина слонов» [Russia - the motherland of the elephants]

Rob always provides exhaustive comments, so the only thing I can add to his explanation is this link to a page on Lurkmor.ru

Kate’s entry: «успех – это успеть»

Richard asked for the best way to translate it. Let’s see… «успеть» has a meaning of “to have time” and “to make it” (as in “to be on time”):

«Последние сто метров до причала пришлось пробежать, но нам удалось успеть на паром» [We had to run the last one hundred meters, but we made it to the ferry]

So I’d translate the phrase as either “success means having enough time” or “success means making it”. As another Russian saying goes, «кто не успел, тот опоздал» [you snooze, you lose].

And finally… the big announcement of the winner. Cue in «барабанная дробь» [drum roll]… First, I filtered out the comments of those readers who graciously removed themselves from participation. Then, I the rest of the comments (51) through a random number generator

Congratulations, Agata, on becoming the official winner of the Transparent Russian blog giveaway. You will be receiving an e-mail from Transparent shortly.

Once again, my heartfelt thanks to all who participated in the contest and commented on the blog post.

What’s this on the picture? Keep guessing while reading through this post or scroll down for an answer. Either way, there’s a surprise for you in store. Just read the rules (actually, just one rule). Good luck and have fun!

A lot can be said on the subject of Russian immigrant experience. But one thing is for sure – Russians here in the US celebrate a lot more holidays than average Americans. We eagerly adopt many American holidays, especially the ones that guarantee an extra day off. But we never abandon «свои праздники» [our own holidays].

So the last few days have been a blur of Facebook «поздравляем»s [congratulations] messages, phone calls from my Russian friends, and «праздничные стихи» [holiday-themed poems] on Odnoklassniki.ru, one of Russia’s most popular social networking sites.

Apparently, when it comes to celebrating, «хорошего понемножку» [too much of a good thing isn’t good] is replaced with «чем больше, тем лучше» [the more the better].

This «настрой» [attitude] is contagious. I want to «окунуться в работу» [lit. dive into work] and write lots of great «посты» [blog posts]. Of course, as the Russian saying goes, «если хочешь поработать, ляг поспи и всё пройдёт» [if you have an urge to work, take a nap and it will pass].  So I’m stocking up on «чёрный чай» [black tea] and «шоколад» [chocolate], the two of my favorite energy sources. Not a chance of me napping on this diet.

Here’s something else that psyches me up this month – turns out, over the last year and a half, I’ve written 99 posts for this blog. In fact, «это – сотый пост» [this is the 100th post] of mine on this blog. «Вот такой маленький личный юбилей» [This is a small personal anniversary] and a cause for celebration.

«В одиночку и праздник не в радость» [Even a holiday is not enjoyable when you’re celebrating it alone]. If I get no comments on this post, it’ll be «дело дрянь» [a bummer]. «С другой стороны» [On the other hand], this just might become the most commented on post ever on the Russian blog beating the current record-holder. How so?

Because (and if you’ve read this far here’s the reward I mentioned earlier) I’m going to run «конкурс» [a contest]. So here we go:

Contest

To enter this contest, all you have to do is to comment on this post in the next 7 days (before 11:59pm EDT on Tuesday May 17, 2011) and share your current most favorite Russian expression. Optional – Feel free to translate it into English, either by yourself or with help from dictionaries, online communities, Google Translate, Multitran.ru or any other source.

Important Rule

Absolutely no «бранная лексика» [obscenities] or «непристойности» [off-color expressions]!

The winner will be chosen by «жеребьёвка» [random drawing] from all the comments on this post and will receive a pretty-looking «матрёшки» [nested dolls] similar (but not the same) to the ones in the photos.

«Готовы?» [Are you ready?] Let me start you off with my current most favorite Russian expression:

«Не было бы счастья, да несчастье помогло» - this is used to describe a blessing in disguise, lit: the good luck was brought on through some bad luck. It is not the same as saying “if it’s not for bad luck, there’d be no luck at all”.

Lovable muts, a pair of old felt boots, an accordeon-playing old man in an intricately decorated room of a small village house can only mean one thing - this is a Russian craftsman.

If you are interested in all things Russian (and since you’re reading our blog, I guess you are), then it’s likely you regularly read (or rather, view) the posts from EnglishRussia.com. If you do, then you likely have seen this post about an old craftsman who takes the meaning of «жить по-царски» [to live like a tsar] quite literally. I was amazed to see the kind of work this man’s done using old-fashioned simple tools. Which got me thinking…

It seems that Russians have a complicated and very contradictory view of Russian workmanship. Sure, there’s undoubtedly lots of pride in Russian ingenuity, inventiveness and ability to create state-of-the-art end results on decidedly shoe-string budget.

As the saying goes, «голь на выдумку хитра» [lit.: poor folks have a knack for inventions; necessity is the mother of invention].

The quintessential story of a Russian «мастеровой» [artisan, craftsman] is Nikolai Leskov’s «Левша», or “A Story of Cross-eyed Lefty from Tula and the Steel Flea”.

The story, written at the end of the 19th century, is one of the mandatory readings for all Russian schoolchildren. The plot revolves around a competition of a sort, between English craftsmen who made a tiny mechanical flea and a lonely Russian craftsman who one-upped them by putting tiny horse shoes on each of the flea’s legs.

If you’ve ever been puzzled over Russian desire «показать Западу кузькину мать» [to teach the West what’s what] and its constant obsession-bordering competition with the West (think space exploration and Olympic Games), I urge you to read the story (in Russian, if at all possible).

It has all the essential elements:

Russian master craftsman is most likely self-taught and from a humble background.  Russian air and soil, the innate Russian-ness of the countryside and its people (kind of like terroir effect on wine) and not fancy university degrees are the fundamental ingredients of a true craftsman.

Russian craftsman is unappreciated, neglected or even purposefully «притесняется» [oppressed] by the government to whose very might and glory he strives to contribute.

Russian craftsman is driven by his love of work and a sense of duty and does not even think about financial rewards. (Nice contrast to Western materialism here)

Russian craftsman, poor and neglected as he usually is, has to make do with the most basic tools and scrounge the materials. His Western counterparts, on the other hand, have top-of-the-line equipment and access to any and all resources.

But when it comes to competing with the West, Russian craftsman, when he puts his mind to it (or when he is “persuaded” by the government), always wins.

These are the fundamentals that combine in the archetypal «мастеровой» [craftsman]. Don’t believe me? Consider this modern-day Levsha’s work and his life story:

Nikolai Aldunin was born in a small township; worked as a machinist and lathe operator – neither of the jobs requiring a college degree; became interested in whether it was really possible to «подковать блоху» [put shoes on a flea] and learned the secrets of the craft on his own.

Unlike the original Levsha, he does have a bit of a support from the government in the form of periodic newspaper articles and unending promises to open a museum of his work.

You see, all the elements are still present, over a hundred years after the original Levsha was written.

With so much emphasis on unbeatable Russian craftsmanship, it seems weird that «Сделано в СССР» [Made in the USSR] and, later on, «Сделано в России» [Made in Russia] wasn’t exactly the mark of quality. Unlike American jeans, Finnish furniture, South Korean electronics or even Chinese thermoses, «отечественные товары» [domestic goods] were not something desirable and did not inspire pride. Ok, there was an exception as the song goes: «в области балета мы впереди планеты всей» [when it comes to ballet, we are ahead of the entire planet].

From the Soviet times, anything «сделано в России» [made in Russia] had a «реноме» [reputation] of being unreliable and requiring frequent repairs.

Even when foreign companies started bringing their technologies, production equipment and spare parts to assemble them in Russia, it was reported that «после того как та или иная марка начинает производиться в России, качество её меняется нередко не в лучшую сторону» [once a brand starts being manufactured in Russia, its quality oftentimes changes and not for the best].

Don’t you think it’s a paradox worth thinking about? Have you bought something “Made in Russia” recently? Please share your experience.

Sometimes Russians may say something that sounds so strange that you cannot – even though you know the meaning of all the words in the sentence they just uttered – for the life of you understand what they mean. An example is the famous expression «да нет» [‘yes no'] which I up until a couple of days ago always thought was closer to «да» than «нет» but I was wrong. When Russians say «да нет» what they really mean is «нет». For example: «Ты пойдёшь завтра в кино[‘Are you going to the movies tomorrow?] «Да нет, не пойду» [No, I'm not going].

But an even worse situation could occur when you’re a beginner at Russian or just a regular newbie in Russia and someone says to you: «Давай возьми What on Earth do they mean? Let’s try to understand by taking a closer look at these two words: «давай» is the imperative form in singular from the imperfect verb «давать» [to give] and «возьми» is the imperative form in singular from the perfect verb «взять» [to take]. Logically, the sentence «давай возьми should be translated as ‘give take!’, but let’s remind ourselves of the fact that the imperative form «давай» can also mean ‘let’s’ or ‘come on’ in Russian. Thus, when a Russian says this to you they are in fact not asking you to give them anything, but wanting you to take something from them. For example: «Давай возьми ещё кусочек тортика!» [Come on (go on) and take another piece of cake!]

Have you noticed that Russians say «мы с тобой» [‘we with you'] when what they really mean are «я с тобой» [‘I with you']? Once you get a hang of it and understand that the «мы» in the expression «мы с тобой» doesn’t mean ‘we’ as in ‘the person speaking plus other people not present at the current moment’ but actually only two people – «я и ты» [I and you], things will move very smoothly in Russian daily life. What can be tough on the beginner is the first time you meet someone with whom you are «на Вы» and they say – with only the two of you present at the time – «мы с Вами» [‘we with You']. You might begin to wonder “Who are all these other people?!”, but do not worry, they’re only talking about you and themselves – in plural. The first time this happened to me I started to look around me for these ‘other people’ but it, of course, turned out to be a fruitless search.

But there is another expression that truly ‘takes the cake’ as Strangest Russian Expression: «Лапшу на уши вешать кому-нибудь». Yes, what does that expression mean? Let’s break it down word by word. «Лапша» means ‘noodles; noodle soup’ [in the expression this word is in accusative: «лапшу»]; «на уши» (note that the stress falls on the preposition here!) means ‘on the ears’ since «уши» is the plural form of the word «ухо» [ear]. The verb «вешать» means ‘to hang; hang up’ and is imperfect ‘partner’ of the ‘verb couple’ that has the perfect verb «повесить». The expression’s last word, «кому-нибудь», is dative and means that the ‘somebody’ in this context is an indirect object. So, what do we get? “To hang noodle soup on the ears of someone”? Yes, as a matter of fact that is the complete translation of this expression. But does that make any sense? No, I’m afraid not. That’s because what it means has clearly very little to do with noodles, maybe it has something to do with ears, though, since it means ‘to fool somebody’ and ‘to lie to somebody’. The ‘fooling of someone’ and ‘lies told to someone’ in this expression is not first and foremost just untruthful, but more of a tricky and humorous character. I can’t seem to think of a proper English variant, maybe someone else has any idea?

I’ve asked many Russians about the origin of this expression and received different answers. The most probable – perhaps because it is both culturally and historically interesting – is that the word «лапша» in itself is an ‘exotic new thing’ since it arrived in Russia only in the early 1990′s and was for a long time something ‘foreign to Russian culture’. Hence it was (maybe still is?) something that one can hang on people’s ears – figuratively speaking – when telling lies to them.

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