Book, Blog and Subscription Recommendations

I like the word Saskatchewan. Did I spell that correctly? LOL

I studied Russian for a few years - my favorite word was pencil, which cannot easily be adapted from the Cyrillic alphabet for English pronunciation. It is something like "karandage" but the ending is very soft, like the end of "lodge", but even softer. I used to love saying that word. I was surprised when I went to Russia that I could read and understand a lot, since I studied it so long ago. It's a fairly simple language.

I took a year of Russian long ago and found it was fairly simple except for the alphabet - and don't they have declensions, too? It has a lovely soft sound. Much later when I worked in a psychiatric hospital I was surprised at how much I could dredge up to speak with a patient who knew no English. But I'm sure I've lost it all by now!

I like "hello" in Russian. To spell it phonetically using our alphabet, it's something like Zdrasvuhtschuh.

This message was edited Sep 25, 2010 10:10 PM

Wow, I don't remeber any of that. I learned a little Russiian when I was 18 and the choir I was singing with went on a cultural exchange tour to the USSR and Poland.All I can remeber is the word for 'thank you', at least I thinlk I remember it, spaseebah (phonetically) or something like that. Now that you mention it, it does have a soft sound.

I had a language adventure there too, or rather a lack of language adventure. We had just arrived in Moscow, and the 120 of us were given lodging at a dormitory-like hotel on the outskirts of town, We had been taken there from Red Square via public transportration, and I watched very carefully which stops to transfer at in the maze of subway. Several of us were planning an early morning foray into town rayther than take the morning 'rest' time before our official tour of Lenin's tomb. We figured we could meet up with the rest of the group at noon as they were led through the very long waiting line. The other folks were going shopping for handcrafts at the State-run topurist stores, while I wanted to stroll around the streets for a few hours to see a bit of every day life rather than all the planned and guided activities. I took my bearings from the sun (had no map) and started off along the streets, I had a small amount of money, with which I bought some delicious dark rye bread and kefir at a small shop, all with only the words, hello and thank you, and a lot of poionting to things, and proceeded to have a little picnic in a small park where grandmothers were taking care of young ones and old men were sitting around playing some kind of board game. it was quite peaceful, but I did get a lot of curious looks, as vists from Americans in 1978 were not at all common. Sorry folks, but this is a long story, if any are still with me here. At any rate, I headed back to Red Square to join up with my group. The streets became exrtremely crowded as I approached, there were barricades set up blocking some streets I had memorized to return, and I realized there was some kind of event going on. It turned out to be a bicycle race in the streets around the Kremlin and the Square. Throngs of people were watching the race, and streams of people were walking along the sidewalks, 5 abreast in both directions. it was impossible to even get close to the line headed for the tomb and guards were manning the access routes. I did try to communicate with one of them to no avail. He stared straight ahead ignoring me completely. Plan number 2, find the tour bus and meet the group there after they get throught the viewing. I located the parking lot and was met with a sea of hundreds of busses all looking exactly the same. No go. Plan number 3, walk up and down with the crowds, hoping to find someone from my group somehow in the milling muiltitudes. My main problem was that, being young and foolish, I did not have enough money left to pay the subway fare having planned to ride back with the group on the tour bus. Amazingly, after many agonizing rounds about the Square, I happened upon two members of the choir walking the opposite direction in the vast stream of people. I did an abrupt about face and fell into step with them. Before I could utter a word, one of them cries. "We found them!" with great relief ion her voice. I broke the news that in fact they had only found me, and I was lost too. All's well that ends well. They had money and I had knowledge (how to return to the hotel via the subway). Needless to say, our tour directors were nonplussed by these unruly Americans who nearly lost themselves in downtown Moscow and kept a much tighter rein for the rest of the trip.

I just found this and first of all I must work too much because I read but could never do as much as you all do. Also I almost never read fiction so I shall take some of your suggestions and pick out some on audible.com. After all "Understanding diesel engines" was never mentioned by any of you.

MHF - marvellous story!!! I love the shout of 'WE FOUND THEM" - its so true, when we are lost, it is the finding of the others (We are here, where are you?) - I love that turn about of lostness. I've done it so often, usually with DH (is it him that wanders off or me? one of life's mysteries).

And quite right Sofer, Understanding Diesel Engines should be on the list right after Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintainence - author please to add to list. Really made me chuckle.

Tracy loves "Zen and the art of motorcycle maintenance" so much that he has the lotus wrench from the cover tattooed on his arm. :)

Good story. You were one together teen.

What a great story, Holly! Were you petrified? I would have been! A plucky lass to be sure.

Wow Holly sounds like you too dislike "tours" like me. Adventure in RedSquare sounds fun.
I did a similar got lost in Edmonton AB but only cause I was hypoglycemic and after two hours of wandering brain dead some kid gave me a candy bar to wake me up. I was frozen and had no idea where I was. I too had no money so started walking to the river and two hours of frozen darkness I got back to thehouse I was staying at. They just asked where I had been not concerned at all due to my history of adventure. I spent the whole night vomiting on the bathroom floor from the giardiasis I had for the previos week. One near death of many.

When in Russia I purchased a watercolor painting from an out-of-work architect on the street near Red Square. Less than 1 minute later there appeared some sort of "officer" at my side, who continued to follow me at close range until I left Moscow for Leningrad (now St Petersberg). He made no effort to be inconspicuous and it was spooky. A nice cultural exchange story - the flight attendants on the Aeroflot Airline flight traded clothing with tourists, things like shirts and belts so that it was not so obvious when they buttoned their jackets. I was warned by the embassy to not wear jeans, since people were mugged for their Levis. Imagine what would happen if you wore your True Religion jeans!

PORTLAND!!! Can you not recognize a man with a crush when you see him? All russian men in Red Square look like officers, its the fashion.

Laurie his scowl was not at all attractive! And the radio he held to his ear did not add to the allure.

HE IS RUSSIAN! That is red square courtship! He was letting you know he was a good catch, employed, could eventually aspire to 'nice dascha in lakeland, no problem! I have connections. Watch me ride horse, shoot bears, or comrades, no problem' - oh sorry that's the other guy who hangs out in Red Square, I think he runs what is left of a government - good job, by Russian standards.

But I take your point, not appealing.

LOL When I was there the USSR still existed and things were secretive and tense. And besides, I fall in love with brains, not brawn!

'What you want brains for, pretty lady, you have plenty brains for both of us' the old smoothie would say.

Yeah, those guys with one thing on their mind are not all bad. HaHa

Why willow, you little devil, you. But I do enjoy good conversation.

You women are so sexist. You have no sensitivity to the 'real man' and expect the perfect man with the perfect butt, with the...... I think it is time to have a man's movement. The men's movement will gather at every bar, fire pit, fishing hole, sports event and talk about our feelings while we pound on each other as we keep drinking to enebriation. This while trying to "one up" each other. There will be arm wrestling, beer shot competion, babe stories, lots of tape measurers to certify the real average's of man's length all while we rev the engines of our souped up cars and expensive motorcycles and toys. Men feel better with other MENS imput not the opposing sex. This is our poster boy. Our slogan "Remember the Club!" LOL

My goodness, and modest too. Guess he isn't voting for the tape measure suggestion.

Good picture of your uncle Yeti. ^_^

Not uncle Yeti but Uncle Neander. Or maybe CrowMag is cousin.