Rambling about Margarita

I just got off the phone with my mom which as usual decayed into this hour long Abby monolog in which I just sort of carry on in full loon mode discussing any and every topic which comes to mind. I suppose this is what happens when you speak English with another English speaking person on a very rare basis. And so there was the Abby monolog which sort of further decayed into me telling ridiculous stories about my host grandmother, Margarita. Which I sort of forgot how many there are and how amusing they are.

First off- Margarita is a very nice woman. She makes very delicious borsh. And she’s very good at being generally overbearing and treating me like a completely incompetent person. But I think it would be hard to remember that although this foreign student doesn’t fluently speak your language and has never before lived in Russia, she is still a competent independent adult (sometimes). So I always try to remind myself to accept her quirks and overbearing-ness as her attempts to protect me. Sometimes this helps, sometimes I just get frustrated with her anyways.

Now on to the good stuff-

As I ate my dinner a few nights ago, Margarita proudly exclaimed how glad my mother would be that I was no longer a vegetarian. She explained how there would no longer have to be complex meals cooked for me since as I already told her I was the only family member who had come up with such a ridiculous idea to not eat meat. Then she asked me why I had become a vegetarian. I really hate this question because I feel that generally it’s not asked in an “I’m curious” mode but rather a “Give me your ridiculous reason so that we can engage in this long and annoying debate about how that is a bad and stupid reason.” Anyways, so I don’t like this question and usually (in English) I just say that I don’t like the taste of meat. But seeing as how I was currently eating a bowl of soup with a large hunk of chicken meat floating in it, I didn’t feel that that reason would satisfy Margarita. So I just told her that it was sort of this gradual transition and I didn’t really have a reason (silly me!) and now I have realized how ridiculous it was to not eat meat. She seemed satisfied that I had recognized my mistake and proud that she had fixed the silly American girl who didn’t eat meat.

And then approximately 5 minutes after this conversation ended. She asked me if she should buy колбаса (sausage) for me to take on the train with me. And I said no. First of all, I never eat meat except when she puts it in front of me and makes me eat it. i.e. I do not frequent the hotdog stands at various points around town. Second of all, seeing as she had been planning the food that would be packed for me for the train for approximately 2 weeks, I was sure that this food would both last a lifetime and take up more room in my suitcase than all of my clothes, and so I just immediately declined any food item which she suggested for the train package. Then apparently frustrated with my rejection of the колбаса, for some unknown reason, she began to ask me questions about sausage products in the U.S.

Margarita: What kind of sausage do they have in the U.S.?
Me: Like what brand names? I don’t know. I didn’t eat sausage when I lived in the U.S.
Margarita: (laughs) What do you mean, you don’t know. What kinds do they have?
Me: Like what types of sausage? I don’t know.
Margarita: Do they have (a long list of adjectives describing sausage of which I understood or recognized none of the words)?
Me: (blank stare)
Margarita: Repeats the question.
Still didn’t understand any of the adjectives describing various types. I kept waiting for her to say солёный because that means salty and I figure that could be a type. But she never said it. Thus, I continued to sort of blankly stare.
Margarita: (in disgust) You don’t know what types they have.
Me: No.

Okay, I rarely have discussions about meat products in America (in English or Russian). Unless the discussion focuses on how good “summer sausage” is. I engage in that discussion on a fairly regular basis. Regardless, I can not name a single person who has experience in both American meat products compared to Russian meat products and adequate Russian language skills to have a conversation on this topic. I am probably one of the least qualified individuals to be involved in such a conversation. And Margarita was not surprisingly under whelmed.

Also this doesn’t actually have a story to go along with it. But as I have mentioned earlier Margarita is quite hip and involves in SMS with her grandson on a nearly daily basis. I am fairly sure he hates the fact that his grandmother is constantly sending him SMS. But the most brilliant part of it all is that there is this magnifying glass lying around the apartment which she always has to use in order to read the text on the cellphone. So she sits there holding the cellphone in one hand and the magnifying glass over the top of it to read the SMS. It is pure brilliance. I nearly laugh every time I see this.

Also, watching news program with Margarita is pure torture. This is mainly because at intervals of approximately 5 seconds, she exclaims ужас/ужасно/какой ужас/просто ужас...etc This all just generally translates to “oh the horror.” This continues for the 30 minute program. Sometimes it is interrupted by her attempts to explain the news story to me. It is strange what she decides to explain and what she figures I understand. I would say that 90 percent of the time I already understood what she decides needs explaining. The other 10 percent of the time her explanations have completely nothing to do with the actual content of the news. Like she decides to explain the most trivial piece of information. I am living an existence where I do not approve of or appreciate trivial pieces of information. Or excessive wordiness.

It’s strange living with a woman whose entire perception of the world is based upon the price of bread. In Soviet times, it was only 20 kopecks and now it is 35 roubles. Then she does some very quick math and tells me that it has increased for example by 15 times. This is repeated with the price of cheese, the price per kilowatt for electricity, and the rent for the apartment. Mainly I am more surprised with the rapid math skills than with the actual price differences. Although the price differences are fairly astonishing. As one of the other Americans told me “You can get drunk and chain smoke for the evening for less than 5 bucks!” That was the one and only time we hung out.

I think Russians are good at math because they constantly count the numbers on their public transportation tickets. Speaking of public transportation tickets, I recently received my first lucky ticket!!! Meaning that the sum of the first 3 numbers was equal to the sum of the last 3 numbers. 354-462. But I decided not to eat the ticket (as you are supposed to) but instead it is now proudly displayed on my desk. And by proudly displayed, I mean it is hidden under a pile of papers so that Margarita will not throw it away in her cleaning of my room.

Although this entry will not be posted for a long time (after I return from Archangelsk in all likelihood), I am currently packed and ready for my departure. As ready as I will ever be for a 20 hour train ride with a bunch of Russians.

Bon Voyage!