SUNDAYS AT VERONIKA'S

Flashback: The First Sunday

From the moment I showed up in the foreign language cathedra, the professors in the Department of Foreign Languages have referred to me as their “colleague” or “coworker.” I appreciate this respect but it makes me feel a little guilty… I’m working far fewer hours and have far fewer real responsibilities than any of them, so I don’t feel like I’ve earned the status and dignity implied by being a colleague…

But anyway, the first or second Sunday I was here (I forget which), one of my “colleagues” who has done a lot more to earn the title, Veronika, invited me to her place the next Sunday to speak English to some guests. As arranged, I met one of Veronika’s friends/former students at the main entrance to the academy. We introduced ourselves as we headed to his car. This was weeks ago, and I haven’t seen him since, so I forget his name. Pavel, I think. Anyway, I liked him; he was one of those big, bluff, unshakably cheerful young Russian men that seem to be ubiquitous here … until the Siberian winter hits in late October and everyone’s spirits plunge.

His car was a Japanese model. Almost every car-owner I know in Novosibirsk (which is not a representative cross-section, but still) has one—and they all have their steering wheels on the right side (which is the wrong side for Russian roads, just so that’s clear).
The car trip was of the kind I’ve learned to expect here but never gotten used to… we weaved through the lanes, within inches of other cars’ fenders, and barely a scythe’s-length ahead of the grim reaper... When we miraculously arrived at Veronika’s apartment, my driver was promptly sent off to schlep the next carload of people. To judge by the number of guests already in the apartment, he had been doing this all day. It had sounded like it was going to be casual and intimate, just some chatting among friends. But when I arrived, Veronika’s modestly-sized living room already had a classroomful of people in it, sitting on whatever surfaces were available—and more kept coming.

They had all showed up to hear two native English-speakers, me and this guy Mike Pritchard from London. He was a friend of Veronika’s and she had brought him to the academy a few days earlier, so I’d met him. Mike doesn’t have much Russian. He talked for a while in English. More on that in the next post.

Then Veronika asked me to talk in Russian for a bit to give all the Russians in the room a break. I explained who I was and what I was doing in Novosibirsk. Part of it, of course, was the additional research I’m expected to do on education and attitudes about citizenship here. I asked them a few questions about this… did a civics curriculum exist in Russian schools? Nope. No surprise. I had already heard this.

Veronika said I could switch to English, and I did. I asked about religion. How many people were not religious, how many were Christians, and how many had some other affiliation? There was a mix of non-affiliates and Christians… nothing else. Did it have any bearing on political views in Russia? The short answer, which everyone seemed to agree on, was “no.” Religion here was a private matter. I explained that the reason I asked was that I felt religion had too much of an influence on politics in the United States… that it should remain a private matter, but had entered into politics to a dangerous degree with the religious right. (I’m sure that won’t surprise anyone who reads this.)

People asked me for details, made their own comments… all very interesting, but with their knowledge of English and my knowledge of Russian, we could only go so deep. Still, it felt very satisfying to have drawn even these few broad contrasts between our cultures from this one discussion…