Adventures in Language Learning

Stores a block from our apartment
where I do most of our shopping.

Русский язык - ето мне тёмный лес.*

Living in a foreign country while beginning to learn its language tends to produce awkward and humorous situations.  At least this has been the case for me over the past month of living in Moscow and beginning to study Russian.

My frequent shopping trips (I go to the grocery store nearly every day) occasion my primary interaction with Russians and, frequently, communication challenges.  Take today's trip to the nearby Citimarket, for example: I wanted to buy q-tips, and although I do not know how to say "q-tip" in Russian, I figured I would be able to find them on the shelf.  I made several circuits around the little shop, searching fruitlessly for the q-tips, picking up tissues and dish soap in an effort to seem as nonchalant as possible, before I planted myself in front of the beauty product section, scanning the shelves to no avail.  

After a few minutes, a helpful store clerk comes up to me to see if I need help finding anything (at least that is what I assume she said).  Since I have no idea how to explain what I'm looking for, I say, "I'm sorry, I don't know the word in Russian."

She says something I don't understand, but which I take to be an offer to help anyway.  So I say, "It's small...for my wife," and trace the shape of a q-tip with my fingers.

She points to some tweezers.

"No," I say.  Then I make an eye-wiping gesture to indicate the intended use of the q-tips.

I buy the lion's share of our groceries
at the Sugar Lion Supermarket.

She says something about glasses, and I say no, and then she makes a motion like she's applying mascara, and I say no again.  "I'm sorry," I say.

"One second," she says, and goes to wait on another customer.  While she's gone, I make a last ditch effort to find the q-tips on my own--and I find them!  They are labeled as "cotton buds."

Triumphant, I return to the checkout counter: "Here! This!"

A look of recognition comes to her face, and she says something else which I don't understand, and mimes using the q-tip to clean around her eyes and in her ears.  

I ask, "What you say in Russian?"

"Vatnaia palochka," she says.

"Vatnaia palochka," I repeat, "Vatnaia palochka."  I pay for my things, and thank her.

***

I don't know how Russians take my pathetic attempts at communicating in Russian, but I quite enjoy the oddities of usage sometimes occasioned by Russians speaking English.  Yesterday, for example, I was trying to buy a coat in a shop when a clerk who could speak English came to my rescue.  I wanted a smaller size of coat than was on the rack, but wasn't succeeding in explaining this in Russian.  Happily, I did succeed in English, and she brought one out for me.  

I tried on the coat in front of a mirror.

"It's your coat," she exclaimed, "Gorgeous!"

*"Russian is a dark forest to me."  "It's a dark forest to me" is the linguistic equivalent of the English expression, "It's Greek to me."