Thursday, April 28, 2011

Now That's Funny!

It’s an adventure learning Russian. I set a goal for myself to start a conversation in Russian every day of Lent hoping it would become a habit. I’ve always studied pretty hard, but I have shied away from actually talking to people unless I couldn’t get out of it. It has become a bit of a habit, but sometimes I wish I could keep my eager Russian mouth shut. I should say that all I’m about to relate were exchanges in Russian. Read on.

Recently, I was seeking advice as to where to buy flowers to plant in the pots I brought with me as well as in a couple of triangular planters on our balcony. I got the point, but didn’t understand everything. I was told to go to the manager of our compound. He told me that he only had roses. Okay, too tall. I was then introduced to a man who I was told (I thought) had flowers to sell. He would meet me at the gate Monday at 1:00. Okay. I was there; he was not. He was on Uzbek time. He rang my bell at 1:15. I left the house with him and he told me that he’d pull his car around. When he did, he opened the passenger door for me to get in. There were no flowers in sight. Apparently I misunderstood about him having flowers. My first thought was ‘no way am I getting in this car’. My thoughts quickly raced from “I may get murdered, kidnapped or worse” to “Women here get in stranger’s cars every day”* to “You know you’ll procrastinate if you don’t do this today.” So I got in. When we got to the bazaar, I bought flowers, I bargained successfully, he drove me home. Easy. Oh, and he would not take any money from me even though he had to pay to park. When I got home I was ready to get soil to plant. I went back to the gate guard, my helper. I told him what I needed. He called over another man who went to work digging soil for me. I stood waiting with the guard and we tried to talk. After I realized that it was going to take some time, I decided I should change my clothes. I was still dressed nicely from my lesson and lunch at the Embassy. So I told the guard I would change clothes then return. That’s what I thought I said. I actually said that I was going to take my clothes off. He looked at me. I repeated it adding the word for clothes just in case I needed it. He continued to silently look at me. I thought. I reran the sentence through my head. CHANGE CLOTHES! I corrected myself. CHANGE CLOTHES! We laughed. I swore him to silence. Poor man. The Muslim culture is prevalent here. I can just hear him, “Really ma’am a simple thank you will do.”




This is Rustam who helped me plant lots of flowers while my parents were here visiting. He told me if I ever needed anything just call out "Rustam!" I already have.








I will take this opportunity to remind you of the specificity of the Russian language. There is a base verb for dressing; a prefix is added it you want to “get dressed”, “change clothes”, “put on an item of clothing” (this, apparently is different than getting dressed), “take off an item of clothing” and “undress”. I’m not at all surprised I made the mistake, just aghast.

Later that day, after the man who fetched the soil for me surprised me by spending a couple hours planting the flowers for me, I made another mistake. I wanted to tip him so I asked him if I could pay him. He gave me the same look that the guard gave me. I repeated the question changing the pronoun. Same look. I then realized that I had asked him if I could buy him. Oh, dear. I was so flustered I couldn’t think of the verb for “to pay”. All I could think to do was dig out money and hand it to him. He wasn’t sure whether to take it or not then I remembered the proper verb. Whew!

During one of our dinners out with the Embassy staff, I ordered a drum. Yes, a drum. I always mix up the Russian word for drum, барабан, with the Russian word for mutton, баранина, so I ordered a drum. The kind, patient waitress politely asked me, what? I saw Doug’s head shaking in the background. I ignored him and ordered another drum. In spicy sauce. Seeing her grin, I realized something was wrong and, given the fact that I was ordering in Russian, I figured it was me. Doug corrected me and I reordered. Oh, by the way, the drum was delicious.
Remember, I am here representing our country. Thank God for diplomatic immunity!

*Most people who drive a car use it as a taxi to make extra money. It’s like hitchhiking which I was sternly and morbidly warned to never, never do. Apparently it works here.

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

The Poor will be with Us Always

A local friend of mine shared this story with me. It is a true account of her experience with a beggar.  
He stood in a small alcove in the underpass out of the light. When I first noticed him, he looked sinister so I averted my eyes and quickly moved on.
The next time I passed under Amir Timur I walked on the far side of where I had seen him and I looked at him. He stood with crutches. He was missing part of one leg – the left one – below the knee.

Was he there to beg? I wondered. Why would he hide himself while hoping to receive handouts? Who would see him? Who would approach him if they could see him? Perhaps he hid from the malitzia.

No, I thought. He’s hiding in embarrassment. He’s too proud to beg and too desperate not to. He doesn’t want strangers to give him money, but he’s too far gone to not take it when they do.

I kept walking. I gave him nothing.

When I was next in the underpass I walked closer to him watching him. I walked slowly past him very aware of him in my peripheral. After several steps I stopped. I took out a 500 soum* note, walked back and gave it to him. He accepted it, held it against his heart and nodded to me.

I can’t do this when I’m with a friend. They all tell me “He’ll just drink the money away.” He may. I realize that. When someone is that miserable and can find some comfort in alcohol, who am I to think he shouldn’t? I hope he does something responsible with the money, but if he drinks I hope he is soothed. Soothed from pain or soothed from his place in this world.

I passed 500 soum to him once or twice more as he stood in his alcove.

Then one day I saw him somewhere else. He was standing at a bus stop holding sacks from an expensive bazaar. He was standing at the bus stop on two good legs. I stared. I think my mouth hung open waiting for words to explain what I saw. He saw me. We looked at each other for a moment and he lowered his head. We sat on opposite ends of the bus and not once even glanced at each other.

I used to feel haunted by the memory of the sight of him standing pitifully in the dark recess of the underpass waiting for help. Now I am haunted by the suffering of this good soul who knows he’s done wrong and, in public, hangs his head in shame before a woman.

*about 30 cents

I will share with you my personal account of my experience with a local beggar.

Every time I walk to the corner fruit and vegetable stand I pass a legless old man who sits in a wheelchair. He does not actively beg, but people stop and hand him money from their car window or stop on foot to chat and leave a little something with him. One day I decided to give him an apple. It's not much, but, like my friend's friends above, I am wary of giving money to beggars. When I handed him the apple, he cupped it in his hands, brought it to his face, kissed it and smelled it. It's aromatic he told me (in Russian). Then he thanked me.

We have probably all seen people who beg. Some who beg act like we owe them. If we give them a dollar, they look as if to say, "That's it? $1?" I will stop to give this man more fruits and vegetables because he was so appreciative and grateful.  

When I consider what the Bible says about giving to the poor I have to realize that it doesn't tell us to give only to those who will be responsible with what we give them. It just tells us to give what we can. That's hard for me to swallow. Just like when the Bible tells us not to judge, it doesn't tell us not to judge incorrectly; it just tells us not to judge. Period. Even if we are right. Even if they are wrong. Don't judge. Period. That's even harder.

I'm making you think today because I have had to think. Next week I'll share some funny things that have happened recently to lighten up a little.