And can you imagine?

I am supposed to be writing an essay as part of a take home test for our Russian culture class. Neither my clothing choice (a flannel on an 80 degree day) nor my mental state (four hours of sleep on the overnight train from moscow) are well suited to this task. Instead I will tell you a story that was told to me while I was here in Russia. Since I have no camera, this is a story that doesn't require one. En plus, il me semble que j'ai quelques lecteurs francaises, qui aiment les commérages sur ma famille d'accueil plutôt que mes efforts plus academiques. Oh and by the way, Na-miss mo ba ako? Kasi miss kita. Miss kita talaga. And the obligatory: Я так рад что не кто не поймут мне потому что, я ничего не могу интересно сказать по-русский.

This story starts with the fact that in Russia, or at least at my homestay, vegetables are a rarity. In fact, for reference here is a sample weekly menu:

Monday: Buckwheat soup "с мясом". Literally "with meat". When I say literally I don't just mean the translation is literal. I actually mean that any word more specific than simply meat would be untruthful. Dessert is black bread and butter with a cup of tea.

Tuesday: Pasta with sausisski (sausage, obviously). The pasta is prepared in the standard way. First the speghetti noodles are boiled in water. After that they are drained and allowed to stand in the collander for just enough time to cool to room temperature. Naturally, this is so that they can be fried on a skillet with a generous helping of butter. This complex method ensures that the ends of the spagetti are properly browned and crispy. The sausisski are actually two hot dogs, fried alongside the pasta. The uncut hot dogs are presented together with the pasta on the plate with a garnish of ketchup.

Wednesday: Pork fat soup...I think. Danny's favorite. An anecdote about this soup, we actually had it twice one week. The second night, Lena asked me (I'm the responsible one) if I would be able to heat it up for dinner because she would be out at a friend's. I didn't think I could mess it up, until I took the pot off the counter and put it on the stove. The soup had actually congealed completely. Like, into a solid. At room temperature. I melted and served.

Thursday: Pelmeny! These frozen meat dumplings aren't bad. I even put the sour cream on top like a real russian.

Friday: Chicken nugget-ish things, mushrooms, rice, side salad. Nastia, who this story is (was supposed to be, will be?) about, is home on Fridays. I think she is the health-conscious one of the family. This means we get mushy chicken nuggets (which I realized last week are either partly or entirely made of tuna). The rice base is garnished with mushrooms. I know that mushrooms aren't vegetables, but I was still excited. Oh what's that? You made sure to pickle them first? Thank you. THE SIDE SALAD!!!! VEGETABLES!!! Ok, so maybe it is just cucumbers, celerey, tomatos and dill with vegetable oil and salt. But hey, I can't complain (except online).

Anyways...the purpose of all that was just to make the case that I don't get vegetables on a regular basis here. I am no vegetablephile. I don't normally go seeking out my own personal supply of vegetables. But after a month of this routine, I went to the local grocery store before lunch. After my eyes acclimated to the sight of non-earth-colored foods I tried to make a decision. The produce section mainly contained the contents of my Friday-night side salad, so I worked my way over to the frozen food tub. Leaning against the unpackaged frozen fish, I saw a bag that suggested it's contents included peas, corn, red pepper, broccoli and rice. Perfect. Clutching my treasure suspiciously, I made it back to the apartment.

Nobody was home. It was the perfect opportunity to enjoy my vegetables in peace. When at last I had a heap of vegetables in front of me, a fork to my mouth and a smile on my face, Nastia came into the kitchen and plopped down across the table. I knew I should have checked the living room. Red-faced, Nastia flashed me a pitiful look, put her head in her hands, gave a few unconvincing sobs, and then looked up again.

"I don't know what to do!" She said.

"Hmmoooh." The vegetables were burning my mouth.

"You must understand...I have a a psychology exam in two days, and when I take it, I must decide the course of my life!" Her speech was, as usual, in a British/Russian accent and topped with a sour cream sized dollop of melodrama.

"Oh no," I said, my body reeling from the introduction of plant matter, "What decision do you have to make?"

"When I take my exam, I must choose whether my specialty will be in Developmental Psychology, Psychological Consulting, or Therapeutic Psychology." She paused for emphasis. "And can you imagine?"

"Well, I'm sure you will be happy no matter what you choose." Translation: I'm sure those three things are identical no matter what you say. "In two months you will hardly remember why this was such a big decision." As a side note, Nastia's two favorite English phrases are "you must understand," and "can you imagine." She uses them to both introduce thoughts and end them, as well as as exclamations.

"You must understand, in matters of the heart, matters of love, I am very skilled." She touched her heart with her hand. "It is in these, how do I say in English...pragmatical matters in which I cannot make decisions. Can you imagine how difficult this is for me? For instance, with the choice to get married, this is no problem for me. With my fiance..."

"Hold on!?" (for more information about this use of punctuation and it's innefficiency click here) Nastia is 22 and I know she has a boyfriend. "You were married!?"

"No," she chuckled. "I am not married."

"But you had a fiance"

"Yes"

"So you broke it off?"

"Yes"

I realized at this point what Nastia wanted. She was not upset. She was bored of studying and I was the only other person in the house. When she realized that I had absolutely no interest in consoling her, she baited with gossip. I took.

"So what happened?"

"His name was Alyosha." she began. "We met at the Jazz club where I worked. He gave me his buisness card. You must understand, he was a very important lawyer. One of the richest men in St. Petersburg." With Nastia, everyone she knows is one of the richest people in St. Petersburg. The especially rich ones are all in love with her. "But can you imagine, I was so young and he was so old. I told him my mother wouldn't allow it. I lied, you must understand."

"Oh...how old were you?"

"Eighteen."

"And how old was he?"

"Forty-two."

"Oh?" I had the sudden thought that my vegetables were getting cold.

"But he was, how can I say. Ah, I forget my english....déterminé." She gave the word in French.

"Determined?" I offered (good thing I practiced my French last semester.)

"Yes, and so he called my mother, can you imagine, and asked her if she would allow us to go out together. She consented of course."

"Of course."

"And so we had our first date. He choose a method which I think is one of the best for starting love in a relationship. He took me skiing, first time in my life. You must understand, when you teach someone in this way, you must touch them and guide them." She reached out to my arm in mid-bite to demonstrate. "This is very good for starting a relationship."

"Uhh. I'm sure." Note to self: never go skiing with Nastia.

"We went out, to date, together for only two weeks. And he invited me to his house for the first time, outside of St. Petersburg. He is a very rich man, but can you imagine, such a beautiful house."

"Wow, that sounds great. Did you have fun?"

"Well, you must imagine (hybrid) I was very nervous. You see, he was much older than me, and I was still using the formal address with him, while he used the informal address with me." This is referring to vui and tui, the two forms of the word you in Russian.

"That's interesting." Translation: That's weird.

"But his house was so wonderful. You know I am not this type of girl, but this night we knew each other. He was my first love, and you must understand...."

Let's back up. It took me awhile to realize...at first I passed it off as just bad English. But no, this girl had actually used the verb to know in the biblical sense in all seriousness. Wow.

"...two months later we travelled to Cairo together, and we were engaged to marry."

"Woah." Translation: Woah

"But, you often learn things about a person when you travel together. I found his true character on this trip. Maybe it would have been best if I would end it after we returned."

"I see, and when did you end it?" I forgot about my vegetables.

"Two years later."

At this point, Nastia told me that she was very busy and needed to study for her exam. I didn't mention that it wasn't my fault we were talking about her 42 year old fiance, and apologized for keeping her.

With this wild story, and Nastia's nonchalant delivery fresh in my memory I finally got to my then cold vegetables.

Can you imagine?