Reflections from the first glorious Russian summer- 2008

After I began my formal classes, my Russian correspondents were happy to help. As I began these classes in the summer I had the time and space to study and practice. For a few weeks it was a pretty comfortable pattern. My class was on Thursday, so I would spend the weekend working on my exercises in the book and early in the week over Skype Irina and I would go over vocabulary. I soon learned how to send scanned copies of the pages of my textbook so she would know what I was reading and writing. In my first class I was instructed that I needed to write my Cyrillic letters in the handwritten form, not block printing. I needed a little pastoral counseling on this. Handwritten Russian of course looks different than block printed letters same as English. I spent an entire weekend with penmanship paper carefully learning these letters it seemed for the first time.
I began to get used to writing in Cyrillic I was also impressed by how neat my handwriting looked. I liked the Russian student I was becoming. I was very proud maybe a little too much. I decided to scan and send my written work to Andrey. At this point most of motivation was becoming a deep desire to impress all three of them. Andrey had worked so hard with me and given so much time. I was eager. My heart was like that of a small child wanting to impress a favorite teacher. I decided to impress him, with of all things, my penmanship.
I can hear the collective laughter of every teacher I have ever had. My mother and my grandmother have amazing penmanship. I always envied how beautifully formed their letters were. My grandmother in particular had handwriting that was so beautiful it was made for sepia colored postcards. My father on the other hand had penmanship that was completely illegible. When my father returned to get his university degree in his 40’s he used to handwrite all his research papers and my mother would type them for him. These were the days before computers and word processing. This was a typewriter in the most typewriter-y sense of the word. I remember one evening in particular I was working on homework at the kitchen table and my mother was in the dining room typing up a paper for my father. I think it was on the Civil War. I am working to the dulcet tones of tak- tak- tak my peaceful study interrupted by the occasional outbursts from my mother; practically apoplectic yelling “PAUL! What the hell does this mean!!??”
In graduate school I learned a secret to improve my messy handwriting. I discovered that writing in another alphabet actually improved my handwriting in English. As a teacher I write on a board everyday as part of my educational pedagogy. After spending an entire summer practicing writing in Russian if I was not thinking. I would begin to teach my class and mix up Latin and Cyrillic letters on the board.
Using a new alphabet has a learning curve, and Russian has a steep one. What I received back the next day was covered with red marks and an added page of instruction on how to form the letters. “Too many curlicues! See attached pages.” I forgot Andrey is not easily impressed. I was determined so I learned and practiced the letters his way. Someday we may be sitting at his table in Tashkent getting ready to go to the market. I fully expect him to hold up my neat shopping list before we head off. “Elizabeth, what in God’s name is дбмя!”
And so it goes on through the fall. Russian class every other week now more and more vocabulary to learn. I am using the website Irina invited me to and have become a faithful user. This new site has actual lesson modules one can work through and interestingly enough much of the vocabulary presented follows my textbook if not in exact word then in theme. But in reality the best thing about this site is that as the fall progresses I am adding new Russian friends to help and work with. Even with all these new friendships in exotic places like Ryazan, Kaluga and Izhevsk I still treasure my online conversations every week with Leonid. What started off as earnest yet struggling conversations as the weeks go by we can both hear real progress. Leonid has a dry and quick wit which in fact does translate into English. He is extremely patient with me which I have always appreciated. I need them both. Andrey to kick my butt and Leonid patiently waiting for me to pronounce (over and over and over) a word like: добросердечный. I have often said to him that one day we will sit at a table eating, talking and moving deftly between English and Russian as if no barrier exists or ever existed. He told me this is a good dream.
The best thing about Leonid and one reason why I love to work with him is that he always has a good story or saying. He tells me about his time in school, the compulsory military service, how he became a member of the Communist party, what life was like in Russia during Perestroika and Glasnost, how life has changed. Conversations with Leonid are always a minimum of 2 hours and I always learn something and sometimes even some Russian. As time has gone on I have become very comfortable trying to speak Russian with him I used to be too afraid of disappointing him but that is another story….
Life and reality soon break into my idyllic study. By the end of October I realize I need to take a break from the class and will be on my own. I cannot return until June. I begin to panic. I feel like my needs are so great no one will be able or willing to help me. I feel like I may become a burden. So I hang back a bit I try to work on my own. I send Andrey a few things but it as if my brain, once a furtive factory of Slavic sounds has now shut down and the machinery. I can feel the rust creeping into my brain.
For nine months in the spring, summer and fall of 2008, I fiercely held onto Leonid, Irina and Andrey careful not to upset them or overwork them. With some varied success in my opinion. Politics tends to set Andrey off. I honestly can’t blame him and often agree with him although I am not sure he believes me. I understand his deep suspicion of American democracy and intentions. I know it is never personal. Come to think of it I really should learn “I agree with you.” in Russian. I like that fact that he gets like this because there is a real passion in these explosions. Maybe because the West has always been the enemy so this kind of animosity is natural. While sometimes these conversations have left me feeling stressed I really love talking about politics with him. I hope one day to have one of these conversations in person. It should prove amazing. Maybe it is like being present at the moment of creation. It is fascinating enough in English it must be amazing in Russian. If I ever visit Andrey (and I really hope I do) I will put “starting an argument over US foreign policy” on the list with making him pie, visiting Navoi Park, watching the birds on his balcony, doing the four hour Saturday shopping, and eating famous Uzbek melons. Maybe the tourist office should put him into the promotional materials. I only say this out a real deep affection and gratitude.
I let my Russian class, my Skype practice sessions with old friends and now some new ones and extra online lessons eat up my summer. It has been a glorious summer but I am unsure of how much progress I am making. The summer folds into the busy fall. But by late November I seems to have not only proven to myself that I can learn some basic Russian and can improve but also I have developed a little community around me. By Thanksgiving my contact list on Skype has now added a few more characters that I work with. I also have a new laptop computer so I can bring my Russian and my Russians with me everywhere. Once, when my laptop slid out of my bag and down the stairs at school one of my students exclaimed “OH NO Mrs. Rossano all your friends are in there!!” The laptop was fine. And then one evening I read a passage and said a few sentences to Andrey and sent him the mp-3. Later during our weekly chat he wrote. “I can hear you smile when you speak Russian.” Finally some real progress.