Being a foreigner is always humbling. I speak Russian well, and I like to think I'm pretty capable of getting around and getting done what I need to get done, and often it's pretty cool being the token American (it's the best pick-up line ever), but it can sometimes be tough and frustrating to be a foreigner. It gives me a lot of respect for all the immigrants I know in America.
For example, my bike has been giving me some trouble lately (Chinese parts + 200-pound me + Vladimir's crappy roads = all sorts of problems), and, if I were in America, I would be able to go to my local bike shop and tell them that the threading that holds the sixth cog in place in the rear cassette is stripped out and is causing that cog to disengage and is making all the gears wobble. All those technical terms and descriptions, though, are a lot harder for me to do in Russian. And this is Russia, of course, so you have to be ready to stand up for yourself and call out people's BS or you'll get cheated left and right, but that's a lot trickier for a poor foreigner. If the Pasha working at the bike shop tells you that there is nothing he can do because he doesn't have the parts, and, even if he did, it would just break again because of A, B and C, and that his "expert" opinion will run you 500 rubles, I need to be able to tell him that I won't stand for that and describe the problem again and give a suggested fix--in Russian. That unit wasn't in my high-school Russian textbook.
Specifics aside, it is always fun to watch people's reactions when I unveil my foreignness. People tell me that I look Russian enough that no one would really suspect that I'm an American when they see me walking down the street or riding the bus. But, when I open my mouth, I always see people's thought processes start up. When I'm talking on the phone on the bus, for example, I love to watch people giving me sideways glances and trying to listen to me talk--and that happens whether I speak English or Russian. Just today, I was in a market here in Vladimir killing a little time looking at some clothes and shoes before a haircut appointment, and I got into a big conversation with one of the sellers about prices and trends in America. I started off by asking him the regular questions about prices and sizes, and I could tell he knew I wasn't Russian. He finally asked where I'm from, and the conversation started from there.
My advice to anyone living as a foreigner--don't worry about it. Be sensitive to the home culture and try to learn the language and appreciate and respect the traditions, but don't try to hide your foreignness. It's virtually impossible, and it's unnecessary--only a spy needs to be mistaken for a local. And, anyway, it's kind of cool to be a foreigner, even if it's tough sometimes.
For example, my bike has been giving me some trouble lately (Chinese parts + 200-pound me + Vladimir's crappy roads = all sorts of problems), and, if I were in America, I would be able to go to my local bike shop and tell them that the threading that holds the sixth cog in place in the rear cassette is stripped out and is causing that cog to disengage and is making all the gears wobble. All those technical terms and descriptions, though, are a lot harder for me to do in Russian. And this is Russia, of course, so you have to be ready to stand up for yourself and call out people's BS or you'll get cheated left and right, but that's a lot trickier for a poor foreigner. If the Pasha working at the bike shop tells you that there is nothing he can do because he doesn't have the parts, and, even if he did, it would just break again because of A, B and C, and that his "expert" opinion will run you 500 rubles, I need to be able to tell him that I won't stand for that and describe the problem again and give a suggested fix--in Russian. That unit wasn't in my high-school Russian textbook.
Specifics aside, it is always fun to watch people's reactions when I unveil my foreignness. People tell me that I look Russian enough that no one would really suspect that I'm an American when they see me walking down the street or riding the bus. But, when I open my mouth, I always see people's thought processes start up. When I'm talking on the phone on the bus, for example, I love to watch people giving me sideways glances and trying to listen to me talk--and that happens whether I speak English or Russian. Just today, I was in a market here in Vladimir killing a little time looking at some clothes and shoes before a haircut appointment, and I got into a big conversation with one of the sellers about prices and trends in America. I started off by asking him the regular questions about prices and sizes, and I could tell he knew I wasn't Russian. He finally asked where I'm from, and the conversation started from there.
My advice to anyone living as a foreigner--don't worry about it. Be sensitive to the home culture and try to learn the language and appreciate and respect the traditions, but don't try to hide your foreignness. It's virtually impossible, and it's unnecessary--only a spy needs to be mistaken for a local. And, anyway, it's kind of cool to be a foreigner, even if it's tough sometimes.
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