Disapproval

I asked Katya, my host sister, what she’s been doing in English class. She said that for the entire semester, more than 2 months now, they’ve been reading the same article. She showed me the article. I read it. It was very long, and in a completely ridiculous, opaque style, and this horrible thing from the 1980s about how America has a problem with poor people because these poor people are insufficiently versed in traditional American values. Namely, they keep having illegitimate children and they refuse to work at McDonalds. And the fault for the moral failure of these poor people lies with whining intellectuals, hippies, feminists, and the black power movement. It was really sort of an amazing article, actually. Aside from the fact that I am fairly certain that a very small percentage of the graduating class of Frederick High School, let alone these poor Russians could read this article, who searches conservative political journals for texts for language classes? And incidentally, why would teaching school children about “the Pilgrims and Squanto” solve the problem of the widening economic gap? Wait a minute, I just remembered that Squanto escaped from an English slave ship... school children are supposed to learn about subversively bowing to the land-stealing exploits of their former capturers? And who is named Squanto, seriously.

Today in grammar class we read a sentence including a verb meaning “to laugh ironically once.” Our teacher did not appreciate our inability to come up with an English equivalent. She just sat there and repeated her request, waiting for us to come up with something. So we just talked among ourselves about various funny words for ‘laugh,’ such as ‘chortle.’ Natasha kept advocating the word “smirk” as a solution to our translation problem, and we tried to convince her that smirk is only for smiles and not for laughs, and this went on for a while... then at some point it turned out that Natasha never understood we were only talking about laughs and not smiles... the whole conversation was basically a good opportunity to demonstrate various smiles and laughs, which was good practice for the end of the class period, in which we all had to read these little monologues demonstrating correct use of the imperative, but with “good, Russian intonation, with gestures,” which turned out to mean “in theatrical style with hands flying everywhere.” I no longer blame Russians quite so much for smiling so little. It turns out that, when one is out of practice, it is difficult to use the necessary muscles- my own facial muscles were quite sore after just a few minutes of this unaccustomed smiling business.

I don’t think anything else interesting happened today. I showed Valentina Petrovna the singing Hallmark card Mama sent me, and she explained to me that it was completely unimpressive, that they also have singing cards in Russia. Including ones that sing “Hibby Birzvet tooyoo” or some equally interesting interpretation of that traditional American song. She’s hard to impress, Valentina Petrovna, I’ll give her that.

I’m posting the link to Joseph’s blog, and you should all click on it and scroll down until you find the post with a picture of the moon over the water, and read the post above that picture, because it is very funny, and well represents the way I often feel about Russian-American relations as well. And explains why I find myself doing things like defending the war in Iraq. ‘Cause we’ll do what we want, you commies, and we don’t need any advice from you.

Here, for instance, is a somewhat-accurate transcript of an exchange in grammar class today, representing the combativeness of all involved in discussion of the relative merits of America and everywhere else:

Irina Milyetavna: Susanna, when was the Statue of Liberty erected?
Me: Um, I don’t know, in some period in which the French were particularly happy with us.
I.M.: Hah! An American, and doesn’t know when the Statue of Liberty was built! When approximately?
I give some wildly inaccurate date and am further mocked. Eventually other students come up with the right date.
I.M. And what does the Statue of Liberty commemorate? Monuments and statues are always for some reason.
Students: It is for freedom.
Further discussion reveals that France gave America the statue upon the signing of some international agreement. Irina Milyetavna is satisfied that we did not erect the statue just for the silly idea of freedom, but as a pawn in the game of international politics.
I.M.: So, did you know that in China there is a statue bigger that your Statue of Liberty? [look of triumph]
Me: The Statue of Liberty is not important because it is big. It is important because it symbolizes freedom.
Natasha: I would rather have more freedom than a bigger statue.
Someone else: Is the Chinese statue the same thing except bigger?
I.M.: Well, no, of course not, it’s a statue of Buddha. It’s bigger than your statue.
Eddie: Well, I guess they won. We’ll all have to become Buddhists.
Me: Is it bigger than Cristo Rey in Brazil?
I.M.: No, the statue in Brazil is bigger. The one in Brazil is the tallest, and the Buddhist one is in second place. The Chinese built a statue that is bigger than yours.

Irina Milyetavna likes China because they are still pinko commies like her. She is always talking about how silly it was to try to become capitalists, and how everyone should just stick with what they used to think, as a general rule for the world. I feel that studying abroad is supposed to make me more accepting of other countries views of the world, and lead me to accept that every country has its own advantages, and whatnot. Actually it is making me rabidly nationalistic. I expect this problem to be solved when I get home and have to deal with the DMV (or does Maryland have an MVA? I forget) because I lost my drivers license on the number 7 bus.