Tonight I'm going to take a break from my exciting and artistic and culinary life to deliver a little heartfelt post to you all:
I love being in Russia despite all the goofy things that go wrong and all the things that seem weird to me (and maybe even moreso because of these things.) I love the people here and I love the Russian style of living and outlook on life. Everything here seems a little bit more in-the-moment, a little more carefree, and yet thoughtful at the same time. I'm always surprised by the weird mix of characteristics that make up Russians - their love of the countryside paired with their desire to move to larger cities, their academic focus on a specific career and their ability to live a life outside of school. The fact that they have so many odd rules and yet live largely outside of the law. I love it all.
But I feel like no matter how much I learn about Russians they will never really learn very much about me. I feel like language has always been a huge part of my personality. If there's one thing that I think I can do, it's hold my own in a conversation. I can talk fast and use big words and sometimes be a little intimidating with my speech, if I do say so myself. And I honestly think that's a huge part of who I am. So it's really starting to frustrate me here that I can't really convey these things that make me me to the people I meet here. Because I tend to be quite fond of them. Sometimes I'm amazed I have any Russian friends at all when I must look so stupid to all of them. And this might be taking it a little bit far, but I feel like the Russians that I do associate with don't really like me for the reasons I think people should like me for (these being mostly my sharp wit and entertaining speech habits) because those don't really exist here. It's weird.
It's not that I feel like I'm a different person here. It's not that I feel Russia has changed me significantly. It's more that a vital part of me is trapped behind the ever-present language barrier. It's not that I don't have interesting conversations here. (I do.) It's not that people don't like me here. (They do... or at least I think some of them do.) It's just that all of my interactions are like half-interactions where I can only represent the tip of the iceberg that is the intellect of Ithaca.
And that's the most discouraging part. As weird as the food here is, as unreliable as the hot water is, the one thing that I get most homesick for is just conversing with someone unhindered. Not worrying about understanding the words we're saying to each other is a luxury I may never look at the same again.
I love being in Russia despite all the goofy things that go wrong and all the things that seem weird to me (and maybe even moreso because of these things.) I love the people here and I love the Russian style of living and outlook on life. Everything here seems a little bit more in-the-moment, a little more carefree, and yet thoughtful at the same time. I'm always surprised by the weird mix of characteristics that make up Russians - their love of the countryside paired with their desire to move to larger cities, their academic focus on a specific career and their ability to live a life outside of school. The fact that they have so many odd rules and yet live largely outside of the law. I love it all.
But I feel like no matter how much I learn about Russians they will never really learn very much about me. I feel like language has always been a huge part of my personality. If there's one thing that I think I can do, it's hold my own in a conversation. I can talk fast and use big words and sometimes be a little intimidating with my speech, if I do say so myself. And I honestly think that's a huge part of who I am. So it's really starting to frustrate me here that I can't really convey these things that make me me to the people I meet here. Because I tend to be quite fond of them. Sometimes I'm amazed I have any Russian friends at all when I must look so stupid to all of them. And this might be taking it a little bit far, but I feel like the Russians that I do associate with don't really like me for the reasons I think people should like me for (these being mostly my sharp wit and entertaining speech habits) because those don't really exist here. It's weird.
It's not that I feel like I'm a different person here. It's not that I feel Russia has changed me significantly. It's more that a vital part of me is trapped behind the ever-present language barrier. It's not that I don't have interesting conversations here. (I do.) It's not that people don't like me here. (They do... or at least I think some of them do.) It's just that all of my interactions are like half-interactions where I can only represent the tip of the iceberg that is the intellect of Ithaca.
And that's the most discouraging part. As weird as the food here is, as unreliable as the hot water is, the one thing that I get most homesick for is just conversing with someone unhindered. Not worrying about understanding the words we're saying to each other is a luxury I may never look at the same again.
Interesting post, seester. I think you pegged it with your wonder about "learning enough Russian". Glad you can keep seeing a bigger picture.
ReplyDeleteThat said, don't forget how cool you really are, no matter the language. You're just cool all the way 'round, and your intellect is still there no matter the language.
I thought about those I've met and enjoyed being friends with who don't have English as their first language. Many didn't have nearly the skill you do with another language, so it made speaking with them difficult. However, they were still really cool people, and who they are was much more than their ability to speak clearly our native English. You're amazing, and there's more to you than words.
Just imagine how much better you will get at speaking Russian now that you realize the importance of language that is concise, yet perfect. You'll get there, and I imagine you already have without knowing it.
ReplyDeleteAnd...She has always been "that way" since she was very young. Verbally entertaining, whitty, creatively vocal. She can sing it, she can write it, she can convey her intelectual and artistic thoughts brilliantly. Can't wait for her to come home and "spew forth" stories about all that she has had the good fortune of experiencing in her time away from Alaska, and Protland. But, then I am a bit biased.
Anxiously awaiting your return home, my Dear Daughter.