Starting from 0

As the school sorts out my so far relatively non-existent work schedule (fortunately I’m getting paid all the same), I still have plenty of time to wander around this city, and figure out the metro a little more. Although I’d like to consider myself an expert in the business, I have to admit it’s still a little daunting when there is no indicator on the train, nor can you always read the sign in the station telling you where you are….the trick is to either count (which I as one of the most distracted people on the planet I fail at after having perhaps 100 thoughts in between stops), or you have to listen, and learn to read. It’s become sort of a game for me, guessing what the stop name sounds like, and then comparing it to the recorded voice over the intercom. It sure helps in learning the alphabet, which I’m becoming a pro.

Or trying to. Sometimes for lunch my friend Iulia and I will go to MyMy’s (pronounced Moo Moo’s with a kitsch little cow on the sign to go with it), which is great, because it’s cafeteria style, you grab what you want, or point at it, and they dish it up for you. The biggest challenge is always at the end, when they ask you what beverage you want (or rather I think that’s what they’re asking, because what more could I possibly need?). I look at the menu, which is half in Russian, the bit they understand, and half in English, the part I understand. To get between the two, I try to find the English print for what I want, and then attempt to pronounce the Russian part, assuming I get all my letters right.

To date, I have had about 5% success rate…that one time at another sandwich place where I asked for something that I didn’t know what it was, but the picture looked pretty. I’m hoping that’s what I got, anyways. There was another time that I asked for “borsch” which is simple enough, since it is the same word in English after all. The rest of the time, the waitress looks at me with an exasperated expression and then holds up the menu, waiting to look at whatever thing I point at. Ah yes, she nods, the %*!@#$%E. Da, da, that one. Fortunately I have yet to eat anything I didn’t like, and I haven’t mistakenly ordered shrimp. Although it’s frustrating to have to start at zero, I’m refusing to give up hope, and I play the alphabet game as I walk down the street, trying to make sense of every sign and every print. I feel like a little kid, learning to read for the first time, waiting for that exciting moment when those silly symbols take on more meaning than ever before. I can’t wait.