I was riding on the metro the other day, heading home from work, playing Bobby Carrot, a Samsung cell phone game of dubious quality that I have beaten near 5 or 6 times. Still, I never get tired of helping Bobby find his way through mazes of doom and disaster to satisfy his rather limited life goal of eating carrots. It’s soothing.
Plus, it’s either that or I study logic games. I had decided to chill with Bobby the Rabbit instead of the sinister LSAT writers because the logic problem next on my list started with the following:
“Four students, Faith, Alison, Ingrid, and Lisa were each to take a test in June.”
I, following the general pattern of logic games, defined all the variables (F, A, I, L), then reread the part about taking a test in June. I shuddered, dropped the pen, and decided to waste my time with a rabbit instead. Starting anything with FAIL, even in acronymic form, is not my idea of positive reinforcement.
Bobby Carrot makes me feel like a winner.
I spend quite a few hours a day in the metro, as I’ve mentioned previously. While recently taking a ride with some friends, I said something like, “Wow, Moscow really is beautiful in some areas.” The guy driving said, “Well, yeah, what did you think it looked like?” My answer: “Uh, torn leather seats, dirty windows, and graffiti.” That’s the impression you get from riding in the metro all day long. There are quite a few beautiful metro stations, of course, but the experience of traveling above ground and traveling below it are quite different.
And, clearly, traveling outside Moscow presents you with yet another alternate view of the city. In April, Fabian, who is one of my coworkers, and I visited Kiev, Ukraine, in order to renew our visas. Leaving the country to get a visa into the same country is actually more logical than you might expect; Russia has a 90-day limit for foreigners who are traveling on our type of visa, so it was necessary to leave in order to come back in. The following are pictures from the trip to Kiev.
My speech patterns have settled into teacher mode, probably for the long term. The inflection, speed, and words that I choose while speaking are now set at Intermediate-High English. I don’t think it’s a bad thing - I’m undoubtedly a lot more intentional about what I say and perhaps a bit clearer. Actually, I bet I speak faster in Russian now then I do in English. The change in speech speed is very distinct, almost to the point of hilarity. I quite enjoy the trust and confidence that my students have in my Russian ability. When we speak English, it’s something like this:
“Chris... what do you think... is the best... hamburger at... McDonald’s?” - generic Russian friend.
“Well, I think that... it’s probably the Big and Tasty... because it’s so... big. And... tasty.” - me.
And in that same conversation, a friend will switch into Russian at a BLISTERING speed, assuming, although their English may be better than my Russian, that I somehow understand.
“Is it... as... [switch to Russian] as-big-and-tasty-as-the-burgers-that-you-have-in-the-United-States-because-I-heard-that-some-things-here-aren’t-like-the-real-thing-that-you-have-in-the-States. [switch to English] Is... that true?”
I think I should just put up a sign that warns people in advance. Yes, we are speaking English at a slower-than-native pace. No, it’s not a reflection of your intelligence. Yes, I am trying to give you the time to formulate your thoughts, to not rush you. Yes, if we switch to Russian you don't need to speed up to cover any English deficiencies.
Maybe I could wear a t-shirt with something to that effect.
This is not true across the board, however. Many of my students have astounding vocabularies and speak completely fluidly. The funny situations result from the small “brain farts” that they have occasionally. My favorite mistake to date has been made a couple times by an upper-level student. She sees the word “ahead” and somehow switches the “h” to an “sh” which causes me to start, as I visualize blueprints and tools when she mentions “planning a shed.” Or one of my students talked about “inculcating a feeling of happy” - basically a 10-point word combined with a minor stylistic error. Those make me laugh a bit inside. Sometimes outside, though I prefer to hide the humor of the situation. Even today, I heard another one that made me genuinely laugh. My student mentioned that, when tidying up the bathroom, she really hates "cleaning the miracle." I can't tell you how dirty my miracles get in Russia. Mirrors too.
I feel like I talk more about the metro than about anything else. But let me share one more story with you, then I promise I’ll be quiet for a while about it. In order to get down to the metro, you must take a escalator. They go pretty deep, but I try to climb up and down instead of just riding. The largest amount of steps I’ve managed to climb up before reaching the end is somewhere around 320. That’s with the escalator moving, so it’s clearly quite a few floors.
Anyhow, on the way up, I generally look at the ground in order not to trip, so you see quite a few feet (or rather, feet in shoes). Some people stand on one step, and some people keep one foot on one step, the other foot on higher step. While this isn’t comfortable for me, I understand the desire for stability. What I don’t understand is the people who straddle two stairs, who have one foot on stair 1 and one foot on stair 3 or even 4. I saw one girl who was practically kissing her knee, riding up the escalator. Can someone help me understand the desire for the Captain Morgan pose? What’s to gain? No one is tying any shoes or doing yoga or posing for model shoots... You should try it at home: put one foot on the ground, then put one foot on your kitchen counter while you're preparing a salad. That’s about the height difference I’m talking about. I’ll leave you with that thought. How many stairs do you normally straddle on the way up the escalator? Why? Discuss.
