Showing posts with label Russia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Russia. Show all posts

Friday, April 24, 2020

Bard Translation & Translatability Initiative, The Translation Symposium at Bard College (video conference), 24 April 2020
This was such a wonderful experience for which I am deeply grateful. I have never done a panel paper before! Here is my paper in case you are interested in reading it (it is not word-for-word what I said but is basically what I presented): “There is no native language: The perpetual question of “How would you say that?””
This made me feel so happy and enriched.

P.S. I am stodgily going with the classical rhetorical meaning of "beg the question". But I acknowledge that language morphs and expressions gain new meanings.

[I have a typo, at least one: schoolteacher is one word without a space.]

Thursday, April 16, 2020

A Poem with a Long and Somewhat Facetious Double Title of Which This is a Part: Street Smarts nor City Smarts nor Guile Have I None (Well, I Have Some) + Men are Exasperating

(Notice to the Reader: This poem is from my Spring 2019 semester abroad in Saint Petersburg, Russia, and is based on personal experiences there. This was my first ever taste of city life. It is not meant to denigrate Russia, a place where I very much enjoyed being, nor is it meant as an insult to men.)


I have been catcalled in two Russian cities,
The ones they call capitals,
And asked out by an overfamiliar fellow
Who followed alongside and would not leave,
Stopped suddenly by an old, impertinent smoker
Who stood passing time at the crosswalk corner.

I have heard the most unpleasant, loud kiss
In the air beside my face
As I walked on the sidewalk to university,
Heard strange compliments from behind me
As I sat with another girl in the metro station,
Heard a guy lean over to his friends and say, “She’s cute,”
Not realizing I could understand.

I have been hailed stubbornly at night from a red car
With my friends on a street corner,
Been looked at going down the long metro escalator,
Been flirted with by a few more pleasant persons,
And asked sweetly after by one decent friend-of-a-friend.

I have been asked my name out of nowhere,
Asked my number ...
Asked where I am from by a too-interested drunk stranger,
Asked why I am not smiling,
Asked why I look scared—
As if you would understand.
As if you cared.


No one showed this small-town girl
The ropes to living in a city.
No one taught me beforehand in this language
How to say the words, “Get away from me”,
Or how to ignore someone without feeling ashamed
Or walk past a sales-boy who slyly startles me
Into stopping and now stands blocking my way.

They taught me how to ask directions and how to be polite,
How to buy metro tokens and
Keep my possessions held tight.
No one told me when it is safer to be a foreigner
Who understands nothing
And when it is better to speak my best Russian
With a flawless accent,
Except that we should pretend to not know Russian
If we are stopped by the police.

No one could have thought to tell me
How to make sure I get on a bus travelling the right direction.
Someone did instruct me
To shove my way confidently in and out of a metro car
And warned me to say “no” firmly
If I ever do not want something
But not what to do in case I forget how to even utter the word.

I have learned that averting my gaze
Is not a sign of humiliation
(It is a survival tactic),
And sometimes I choose the road and oncoming traffic
Instead of the sidewalk,
Where the men waiting in lines ogle
As if standing in a group
Gives them the right to be rude
(I will not refer to their brazenness as courage).

I have learned that I cannot always keep my wits about me:
When I am surprised I may surprise myself
(It is a wonder I did not find myself in real trouble).
I have learned to stare straight ahead,
Pretending I cannot see the several young men on the street
Who may or may not move aside,
All while I strive to be aware of my surroundings,
Wanting to pass them by as quickly as I can
But not to look like I am running away.

I have learned that walking with confidence
Limits the power of those watching me pass.
I have learned that many men
Are willing to treat me like a slut if I am wearing heels,
Regardless of how else I am dressed.
I have learned that if I am lost I had best not show it,
Because some men are kind
And others are scoundrels.


22 May 2019, origination; 28 December 2019 and 2 January 2020, expansion; March/April 2020, edits

Sunday, June 2, 2019

A new friend here at Smolny inspired this with a really heartwarming parting. I am grateful to and for all of my friends and for knowing that we matter to each other. This one came with a melody. (Link is not to a movie, just a recording of me singing it.)

It's nice when someone doesn’t want to say goodbye
When the leave-taking hurts so much you start to cry
And you smile truly through those tearful eyes
Because in this wistful feeling - you recognize
The heartache caused only by the cherished tug of friendship ties
Yeah, it hurts sometimes how swiftly our time flies
And it can be so very painful to say goodbye
Yet it’s nice all the same when a friend doesn’t want to leave your side
It's nice when someone doesn’t want to say - goodbye


May 31, 2020
Saint Petersburg, Russia


Tuesday, May 14, 2019


They say we all live under the same moon,
And it seems to be true,
But the sun seems rather different
Every place where I pass through.



Poetry, sort of?








Sunday, March 10, 2019

~ Some think spring has almost come in Petersburg ~
(11-26 February 2019) 
At first this existence seems beautiful
Appears some brilliant, pristine crystal
Then that very ice melts and
What remains is cigarette butts
And the stench of sidewalk refuse
Suspended in the brumous delta air
Snow turns to chilling sleet
Then to flurrying snow again
Swirling and shimmering down
Into half-frozen slush puddles
Beneath insidious bands of icicles
Those precious jewel-flakes twirl
As if descending royal stairs
Only to join the sparkling city dirt
As the damp cold redoubles
To the tune of forlorn cats
Wailing outside balcony windows
Wind blows
Feet slip
And people flow like rivers
_
_
_
_
That entire thing started on 11 February with this:
“At first this life seems beautiful //
Then the ice melts and what’s left is cigarette butts and the stench of sidewalk refuse.”
If I were more of a true #nihilist I would have left it at that.
The official beginning of spring in Russia is 1 March. At the very end of February there was hardly any snow around. Since then we have had lots of snowfall and now another bit of a thaw. I was neither so morose nor so disgusted on 11 February, but some of the street smells in warmer weather are truly quite revolting, and it was nearly amazing to see the buildup of cigarette butts on shrinking sidewalk snowbanks. I am sharing this even though I am not entirely satisfied with it. I rarely am anyhow with what I write. Maybe I will rewrite it later.






Tuesday, February 26, 2019


Я приехала в Петербург / Учёба за границей

Вот я в Питере,
пролетев через моря,
провожу время в краю мостов,
чтобы через старо-новое окно
взглянуть на обширный мир. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
I Came to Petersburg / Study Abroad

Here am I in Piter,
Having flown across the sea
To spend a while in this land of bridges
And, through an old-new window,
This expansive world to see.

(25 января 2019 г.)
Небезопасно!

УВАЖАЕМЫЕ ПАССАЖИРЫ!
ДЕРЖИТЕСЬ ЗА ПОРУЧНИ!
ИНАЧЕ ВЫ ВСЕ УПАДЁТЕ,

И ОБЩЕСТВЕННЫЙ ТРАНСПОРТ
МОЖЕТ СКОРО ПРИВЕЗТИ
К ОБЩЕСТВЕННОЙ СМЕРТИ. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Not Without Danger!

DEAR PASSENGERS,
PLEASE HOLD ON TO THE HANDRAILS,
OR ELSE YOU WILL ALL GO TUMBLING

AND THIS PUBLIC TRANSPORT
MIGHT SOON GREATLY COME
TO RESEMBLE A PUBLIC MORT.

(20 февраля 2019 г.)

(Inspired by the constant announcements made in both Russian and English in many Petersburg buses, trolleybuses and metro cars, and by the occasion of helping a woman on one bus who had lost her balance.)

Friday, February 8, 2019

Над головой висят сосульки - Icicles hang overhead (English below)

Вчера:
Я выхожу на улицу, и кричит женщина : «Девушка, не стойте там! Посмотрите наверх!» Да, я вижу. Над головой висят сосульки.
🚷⚠️🙄🙏

Сегодня:
Выйдя на улицу, я смотрю на крышу на рабочих. Начинает молодой человек махать и улыбаться мне с крыши. Он кажется таким милым и весёлым и поднимает мне настроение.
☺️💓🎶





Yesterday: 

I walk out onto the street and a woman shouts: "Young woman, don't stand there! Look up!" Yes, I see. Icicles are hanging overhead.
🚷⚠️🙄🙏

Today:
Having gone out onto the street, I look up at the workers on the roof. A young man begins to wave and smile at me from the roof. He seems so sweet and cheerful and raises my spirits.
☺️💓🎶

Thursday, February 7, 2019

Some cats staying warm and entertained. (Video from the weekend.)


Russian coins are like a mini grammar lesson for your pocket. They are also attracted to magnets, as I found out when one stuck to my laptop.


Monday, February 4, 2019

"You need to marry a Russian Jew from Philadelphia."

My Russian host mother (N.G.) told me tonight that I should marry a Russian Jew from Philadelphia (where 20% of the population are Russian Jews!) and then we can eat Russian food and speak Russian while living in America. She also said that this husband should preferably be wealthy so that I can have an easy life and my children will always have something to eat. Honestly, why not? Most of my corner of the world seems to think I should marry a Russian (the people who say this are Israelis, Russians, Americans . . . ). Usually they ask me why I am studying Russian and then suddenly suggest that I will marry a Russian. The other day when N.G. first started talking with me about questions of life and family she said, “First of all, a husband should be kind/good (добрый), second, he should be kind/good, third, he should be kind/good. If he is not, then it will not matter to you whether he is wealthy or good looking.” Before that she had been asking me about who I might consider eligible as a husband and whether he would need to be of a certain religion, nationality or ethnicity. We have been having a hoot here and get along quite well.

Saturday, February 2, 2019

Music and Islamic newspapers at the metro station


So, on the way home yesterday I ended up with an Islamic Russian-language newspaper when I stopped alongside the wall in the metro corridor to watch this musician (short video below). I was fishing around in my bag and a man approached me and asked if everything was okay and if I was interested in this newspaper. I said I did not want it but he said he would give me one free of charge so that I can see what it is like, so I took it, why not. On the way home today from a Shabbat service the same man approached me and then recognized me and smiled. He asked me how life was and said something else that I did not quite make out. I did not really listen because I was not feeling comfortable. I very briefly responded to him and then said "do svidaniya" and left. Now I feel awkward and I do not know if he could discern that I am a foreigner. Will he and the other newspaper men be there again tomorrow?

* * *

The answer is yes. It's just that I was taking the bus before, not the metro. I shall have to work on my "I can't see you" skills.


Tuesday, January 29, 2019

Today's adventures - The lost and the kind - Day 5 in Russia

Today's adventures - The lost and the kind - Day 5 in Russia

This rural girl lost her way in the city today. Did not get lost location-wise, but lost the way to her destination on two occasions. I live furthest away of all the Bard-Smolny students from the university. I left my dom at 09:15, a time that was supposed to be early enough for me to have a margin of error. I got to Smolny at nearly 12:00, and we were meant to meet there at 10:45 (even I was not the last arrival!). First I seem to have taken the wrong bus from my street. It came to the end of the line much earlier than expected and then I had to take another that ran for a very, very long time. When I finally reached ploschad' Truda I wandered around confused for something on the order of a half hour, not recalling the path our group took yesterday. I had the correct street but the wrong side of the intersection. A man on the street asked to where I was trying to go when he saw me looking at my piece of paper and at the numbers on the buildings, so I told him and tried to follow his directions but ended up confused again back at the ploschad'. The same thing happened when I approached a man at a gate for help. I had forgotten that the underground crosswalk here goes multiple directions below the entire ploschad', not just underneath one street. This intersection confused other people too. Two separate Russian women asked me for directions. One asked how to get to a building that was not familiar to me and I simply told her that I did not know. The other was in the same situation as me, trying to figure out whether the street in question actually continued on the other side of the intersection and how to get there. I told her that I did not know and also wanted to find out. Yesterday the Program manager told me to expect people to approach me for directions since I blend in with the locals when I am on my own, and it was funny that it happened so soon. I think I would have finally figured out how to cross the street within the next 10 minutes but, to be sure that I did not end up even later, I called the Assistant Program Manager to tell her I was lost. The only problem is that the mobile phone is very quiet and I have always struggled to hear people on the telephone, even more than in person. So she began texting me since I could not hear her. She texted me in English but I had not yet figured out how to text in English, so had to figure out what say in Russian: I see a yellow arch, now I see Galernaya st. building thirty two (I had to also write out the numbers because I did not know how to enter digits). The very first things out of her mouth when I arrived were that everything would be okay and, "Did you cry?" (no, I did not, and she thought that was good). She will look at the phone with me tomorrow and see if they have another one that would be easier to hear on. I hope to buy a SIM card for my own phone soon because it might be easier to use, both for hearing and for writing messages. A drawback is that the cold does cause it to malfunction.

The public bus attendants on the four buses I took today (it should have been only two total today) were all women and were all kind. When my first bus this morning came to the end of the line the attendant told me more than once that this was the end, so I need to get off, but also helped me find the next bus stop where I could pick up another bus line. The second incident today was me getting on a bus on the way home that was not going to either of the stops near my dom. The static signs and digital signs indicating the bus numbers and routes and the route tags on the buses seem to have some disagreement with each other. The attendant looked sad that I had paid for the wrong bus and very diligently did her best as I went several stops on her bus to explain to me which number bus to take and from where I could take it. I disembarked and waited for the correct number bus. This time as I got on the attendant was close enough that I could speak to her right away. I asked if I could get to such-and-such street. She was not sure what it was, so I said the name of the street next to it and she said yes. I remained standing, partly because I was feeling tense, but after a few stops she came and insisted that I sit, so I did. When we got to the stop before mine I was not sure whether mine was next. The attendant came and told me without me asking that the next stop was mine, not this one, something that helped my nerves. As I walked down the street with the bus stops to my street I began to shiver for the first time here. I felt very tired and very hungry. It was already dinnertime when I got back because I walked around longer than expected with some of the group after lunch and then had trouble with the buses.

This morning we had our preliminary Russian placement test. There were some words on it I did not know and others the forms of which I was not sure how to choose from. Others in the group are much more fluent than I am, especially, understandably, the heritage speakers. I am trying to remember when I feel inferior that I am not stupid and that I simply have more to learn. We all had lunch with the Russian as a Second Language instructors and the program managers and we conversed almost entirely in Russian. The academic advisor for Bard-Smolny students thought it was funny when one of us four Bard students in the group said that Bard campus is in the woods and I interjected that Bard was not located in the woods, that if anything I live in the woods but Bard is not in the woods! Tomorrow the two-week language intensive starts. I am nervous. I want to learn as much as possible while I am here.

I will be so tired tomorrow. I meant to go to bed earlier tonight but also meant to be back here several hours earlier. Maybe tomorrow?

Monday, January 28, 2019

Sunday, January 27, 2019

On my 4th day in Russia, 27 Jan 2019

On my 4th day in Russia, 27 Jan 2019


After lunch with the group I split off on my own to witness more of the 75th anniversary commemoration of the lifting of the 872 day Leningrad Blockade (872, а не "900 дней и ночей"!) on the "Road of Life". I watched the performance of songs and poetry recitation by young people from Youth Patriotic Action "Muse of the Blockade" and the Committee on Youth Policy and Interaction with Public Organizations, saw part of a prerecorded video interview, looked at posters and newspapers from the time of the blockade, walked along a chronicle of the siege, and read heartbreaking personal stories of children of the blockade on a wall of memory arranged for the occasion. After wandering around the city center for a while, I used my pocket atlas of the city and the sight of the church across the street from me in order to find my path back to Gostinyj dvor metro station. This proved to be less difficult than I had imagined. My trip to Poland in 2016 flying all by myself, my bus trip to Boston last summer, my visit to Brighton Beach over spring break and my exercise of intentionally getting myself lost in Kingston once I finally obtained my driver license seem to have been a perfect course of preparation for this adventure in Russia. I walked alongside the Fontanka (and, yes, briefly, on the Fontanka, where many people were walking and a memorial of flowers was placed). My toes finally began to feel the chill of the perhaps -12 degree weather (positive 10 degrees or so for Fahrenheit) through my two pairs of socks and my excellent boots as I tramped on in my long coat, knee legwarmers, hat and earmuff, and thin gloves plus thick gloves, with a ruby-purple scarf wrapped around my head. Slipped I have, but not fallen yet. My boots are wide soled and lend me stability. The weather here really seems not much different from what we have in some New York State winters. I recommend that you find a below-ground crosswalk or a metro station entrance if your fingers begin to ache; the warmth brings relief with surprising quickness. City life has never been my life, and cities have usually provoked some claustrophobia in me. But here I love seeing the buildings. They have beautiful colors and there are no skyscrapers severing you from the vast dome of the world. I felt perfectly comfortable setting out on my own as the rest of the group left the restaurant together. The Petersburg metro at first pass strikes me as much more pleasant and easily usable than the New York subway system. For a brief moment concern struck me on the metro escalator when I saw only one zheton (metro token) in my hand and thought, "But I bought two! What happened?!" . . . but then came the hilarious realization: "Oh, I used one to enter the metro in the first place, of course!" In honesty, there being no expectation of a smile or interaction with strangers whom you encounter on the street feels so much more natural to me (the others have mentioned how hard it is not to keep smiling automatically - not a problem for me, you see!). And, knowing that crowding each other is expected, I really do not mind it. There is less hesitation surrounding one's every move. Keep all important possessions in internal pockets or clearly in your sight and you should be fine. Up on the streets adults tow small children on sledges. The sidewalks are busy and slippery, yet people rarely walk into one another. There is a true advantage here this time of year for those who love the sunrise but struggle to rise early enough to see it - the sun does not rise so early. The sunlight throughout the day is fresh and gentle, remaining so similar to the light of dawn and dusk. It is beautiful.

Upon returning to my host dom I succeeded in requesting an additional blanket for the bed. My room is somewhat cold at 16 to 18 degrees (60 to 65 Fahrenheit), not unlike my room in the States. There are many everyday vocabulary words as of yet unknown to me, but for certain I will improve, and for certain I will feel very frustrated with myself. What may seem most ironic to some is the fact that, aside from not being able to converse very well in Russian at the moment, I feel more at home among the Russians so far than among the others from the United States. One of the cultural notes given us was that Americans tend to stick out in groups in Russia because they are very loud. I find it strange and grating when some of the others start speaking with excessive volume. Even to me they can seem like "loud Americans". At least two of us are usually quiet ones (we also seem to be the main science nerds of the group). At the hotel some of us discussed our nervousness about moving in with host families and struggling with the language. It seems to me that the type of uneasiness they described matches my usual experience almost anywhere at any time. In a way my excessive baseline anxiety may turn out to make all of this easier for me than for them. Whether I have ever experienced jet lag before I do not know. Since arriving here I have slept without major complaint, felt tired throughout the day but not become too sleepy before nighttime, and gotten up in the morning without issue. I have gone to bed between midnight and 1:00 in the morning each night since arriving (I will need to start getting to sleep a bit earlier moving forward). Perhaps my extraordinary sleep schedule at home this month before my departure mitigated potential difficulties of the transition. I was staying up until 3:00-4:00 in the morning regularly. Then I had only one and a half hours of sleep the night prior to my flight and not more than one hour of sleep on the airplane.

Ate dinner a while ago, and now preparing for tomorrow. I shall take the bus for the first time in the morning with my new rubles in hand.

Pictures and video to follow at a later time.

Friday, January 25, 2019

Nothing quite in this way of being abroad with fellow citizens reinforces how little I belong among my own countrymates.